The Cult of Dionysus

Apollo

I gasp. I'm back in the Waystation, sprawled across the couch. Standing over me, frowning with concern, are my hosts, Josephine and Emmie, along with Leo, Callida, and Calypso.

"I-I had a dream." I point weakly at Emmie. "And you were there. And...the rest of you not so much, but-"

"A dream?" Leo shakes his head. He's now dressed in a pair of grimy overalls. "Man, your eyes were wide open. You were lying there all twitching aand stuff. Calli had to turn you on your side so that you wouldn't choke on your tongue. I've seen you have some visions before, but not like that."

I realize my arms are shaking. I grab my right hand with my left, but that only makes it worse. I try to ignore the fact that Callida Rivera was the one to save me from an embarassing death. "I-I heard some new details, or things I didn't remember from before. About Meg. And the emperors. And-"

Josephine pats my head as if I'm a cocker spaniel. "You sure you're okay there, Sunny? You don't look so hot."

There was a time when I would have deep-fried anyone who called me Sunny. After I took over the reins of the sun chariot from the old Titan god Helios, Ares called me Sunny for centuries. It was one of the few jokes he understood (at least one of the few clean jokes).

"I'm fine," I snap. "Wh-what's going on? Calypso, you're already healed?"

"You've been out for hours, actually." She raises her recently broken hand, which now looks as good as new, and wriggles her fingers. "But yes. Emmie is a healer to rival Apollo."

"You had to say that." I grumble. "You mean I've been lying here for hours and nobody noticed?"

Calli shrugs. I notice she's changed her clothes and her hair is wet, as if she's just showered. She's wearing some khaki cargo pants and a cropped black tank top, giving her a commando-mechanic look. "We were kinda busy talking shop. We probably wouldn't have noticed you as soon as we did except, uh, somebody here wants to talk to you."

"Mmm," Calypso agrees, a worried look in her eyes. "He's been very insistent about it."

She points toward the rose window.

At first, I think I'm seeing orange spots. Then I realize an apparition is floating toward me. Our friend Agamethus, the headless ghost, has returned.

The ghost drifts toward us. His mood is difficult to discern, since he has no face, but he seems agitated. He points at me, then makes a series of hand gestures I don't understaand- shaking his fists, lacing his fingers, cupping one hand as if holding a sphere. He stops on the other side of the coffee table.

"Sup, Cheese?" Leo asks.

Josephine snorts. "Cheese?"

"Yeah, he's orange." Leo says.

"Why is that?" Calli asks, looking at the ghost with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. "Also, why is he headless?"

"Calli," Calypso chides. "Don't be rude."

"Hey, it's a fair question." Leo shrugs.

Emmie studies the ghost's hand gestures. "I've never seen him this worked up. He glows orange because...Well, actually I have no idea. As for why he is headless-"

"His brother cut off his head," I supply. The memory surfaces from the dark stew of my mortal brain, though I do not recall the details. "Agamethus was the brother of Trophonius, the spirit of the Dark Oracle. He..." There's something else, something that fills me with guilt, but I can't remember.

The others stare at me.

"His brother did what?" Calli asks.

"How did you know that?" Emmie demands.