The Ambassador of Athena

I dreamt again of the man in the tuxedo. He was sitting in the back of a SUV, reading a newspaper. One of the Gorgons was driving the car through the shapes of the black hills, following a huge truck. The sky was still dark, but in the east the sun started to rise.
“We will arrive at Mount Rushmore around noon.” The gorgon snarled.
“Great. We will have the statue before the gods even get a hint about our plans.” He answered and folded the newspaper. “And when they do, it’s too late.”
The scene dissolved into mist and I woke up.

I almost fell out of the bunk bed before I orientated. When I got to the floor without breaking any bones or other serious injuries I woke up Johanna and Jessy. He moaned and turned around, which was a good sign since the day before he was as lively as a sack of coal. The clock at the wall told me it was 8:00 am, enough time before the National Park would open.
After everyone was ready to leave we gave Jessy some medicine combined with ambrosia and nectar. He could stand and walk, but he still looked awfully pale. He avoided eye contact with me and just sat in the back of the Camaro. Johanna also avoided looking at me, so the whole drive to Mount Rushmore was more or less silent.

We arrived there just after they opened. I paid the parking fee and parked between a big black SUV and a red minivan right next to the entrance.
A park ranger greeted us and handed us a map when we walked through the big gate. The Hall of Records was marked, but obviously it wasn’t open for public.
“I think I know how to get to the Hall, follow me.” I said after a quick look on the map to my two companions. Thankfully they obeyed and followed me down the trail to the ridge that led to the entrance. When we reached the right spot I checked if anyone was close to us and as soon as there were no other tourist in sight we hit the bushes next to the road.
The ridge was rocky and steep, filled with gravel and earth. We were all sweaty and dirty when we finally reached the top of the ridge and entered the small valley where the Hall of Records was carved into the stone. The gate was nothing special, just a square hole in the wall. In the entrance a capstone was set on a pedestal, a bronze plate on it read:
“..let us place there, carved high, as close to heaven as we can, the words of our leaders, their faces, to show posterity what manner of men they were. Then breathe a prayer that these records will endure until the wind and rain alone shall wear them away.”
“They never finished the planned Hall, but a few years ago they placed this vault here to fulfil at least one of its purposes.” I said when we entered the cavern. “We’ll look for an entrance to the Hall of the statue inside, its only 20 meters deep.”

The hidden entrance was easy to find, at least if you are a demigod. As soon as Johanna set foot into the cavern an engraving on the back wall lightened up. It was a Ζ, Zeta, probably for Zeus. When Jessy touched the letter a panel the size of a door slid aside and revealed a hallway lit by magic torches that lit up when we entered.
This tunnel was beautifully made, with marble in several different colours, golden inlays and granite columns. We followed it, our weapons drawn, just in case. The tunnel ended after a few meters in an octagonal room, in the middle of it, on a pedestal…
“The Statue of Zeus of Olympia” I whispered.
I’ve seen pictures drawn after descriptions of it, but seeing it in real life was way better. It showed Zeus sitting on a throne, around 13 meters high, with ivory skin, golden hair and beard and a ebony cloak wrapped around his waist. His one hand held a bundle of bolts, made from pure electrum if you could trust the ancient stories. Zeus must have stood model for Phidias - the most talented son of Athena at that time - because it looked different from all the pictures and statues I’ve seen from the father of the gods. A ray of sunshine lit his face, coming from a hole in the ceiling.

Jessy and Johanna explored the Hall, and so did I:
There were several huge bronze plates with the reason why the statue was brought here (Roosevelt, a son of Jupiter, brought it here from a well-known son of Hades who decided to take over the world), a short history of America, Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter and last but not least a record of the places the gods used to stay. I have to admit that I felt pleased when I found among France, Spain, England, Rome, Greece, Egypt, Mesopotamia and America also Austria on the list of former residences of the gods.
The statue radiated power; you could feel the force rolling in waves through your body.
After a few minutes Johanna asked the question that should have come to my mind earlier:
“How are we supposed to bring this statue out of this Hall?”
But before I could think about an answer I learned my next lesson in the demigod business: Never underestimate monsters.
Just after Johanna had asked the question smoke grenades flew through the hole in the ceiling and everything went foggy.
“Oh, look who’s surprised to see us” a voice said from above, and a silhouette appeared in the hole, a silhouette of a man in a tuxedo…

Notes

Sorry, this is a short chapter, but I am going on a visit to America on Monday and I could not leave you without a new chapter. See you again in two weeks ;)