Apollo excerpt

Did I introduce you all to Apollo yet? Here's a bit of an early #NeonGods chapter. Dig on it, feel free to email or message on social media. The manuscript is close to beta read and a line edit is coming. Then a publish for all my Descendants headed towards the City.




It was once said that the Greek god Apollo, offspring of Zeus and Leto was born clutching a golden sword. He came into being on Delos along with his twin sister Artemis. According to legend, he was a precocious infant. At his first taste of sweet ambrosia, Apollo transformed from a tiny baby into a grown man.
His second birth wasn't like that. Not at all. Apollo descended behind the wheel of a 1985 Chrysler Lebaron. Speeding down a busy street at half past six on a Saturday afternoon, the god gripped both sides of the steering wheel like he was trying to strangle it.
One or two other drivers noticed the erratic driving and screams, each shaking their head in disappointment. Always a fast learner, the god quickly extrapolated the break from gas pedal and got a feel for the steering. He came to a red light and noticed vehicles around him stopping. Lightly pressing the break, he coasted to a stop and smiled at his traveling prowess.
But the god had yet become acquainted with the automatic gear shift and as he threw the door open and stepped out, the Lebaron lurched forward with no one at the wheel. Around him, other drivers shrieked and pointed in his direction. Some cursed and held up various fingers of their hand. Apollo joined in. He stood and screamed in his native tongue, waving his hands furiously and spitting. He was always a fast learner. Meanwhile, the ghost car traveled unattended up the block and through an intersection before finally careening into the side of a building. Apollo watched it curiously. Where was he? He knew it wasn't Delphi nor his birth place of Delos. This was an isle of man and he was in front of the veil. 
He entered a narrow alley thrown into shadow by adjacent buildings. He could smell food somewhere close and supposed that meat was being laid on the fire. Up ahead, a small structure, lay at the end of the alley. Dark covered windows on both sides of the door, the shanty was was lit by a single bulb suspended like a fake sun. A wooden sign hanged just underneath it. On the sign was a word drawing. He recognized it as Greek immediately. The word meant fortune and luck. Tyche!
The door creaked open and a woman shuffled outside in slippers. She was thin as reeds, long wavy gray hair settled down her back. "I've been waiting for one of you."
The voice was high pitch and cracked. Apollo took a step forward and noticed the woman wasn't looking at him but at something to his right. He turned and saw nothing. Taking another step, he realized the woman had no eyes. Or more succinctly, her lids rested on sightless corneas. She stood still but waved at him in short, jerky movements.
"Get over here goddamnit! I told you you've been expected!"
Apollo had no idea what the woman was talking about but it was clear she was welcoming.
"Where's Tyche?"
"Ah, a Greek!" The woman said. "Come closer. I want to see your face."
Apollo stepped in front of her and took her by the hands. He placed them on his face and waited. She ran her fingers down his cheeks and cupped his chin, then placed her thumbs onto his eyes and ran them up to his forehead. She felt the curls of his hair.
"Which one are ya?"
Apollo removed her gnarled fingers from his face. He stepped beside her and entered the small establishment. It was as downtrodden inside. Lit by candles at each corner, the room was perhaps the size of a small Roman bath. He smelled incense and cat urine as he walked to the center of the room where a single chair and television accompanied a tiny desk covered by newspaper clippings. He wondered vaguely about the papers considering her sight but let it pass. The woman intuiting his question, stepped beside him, ran trembling hands over the headlines as if they were in brail. He bent and read aloud.: "Multiple sources confirmed. The gods have landed."
"Which one are ya boy? Zeus? Orpheus?"
"Apollo."
The woman squealed in delight. "Have you been awake long?"
"Not long."
Apollo allowed himself to be sat in a chair and was given a cup of tea. It was hot and tasted of cinnamon. He let each sip linger on his tongue.
I've been waiting for somebody to show up at my door." She croaked.
"There are others?"
"Oh yes, there are many."
"Where?"
Apollo downed the last of the tea. He placed the cup in her shaking hand.
"More?" She inquired.
Apollo shook his head and as he did, the woman seized his wrist. "With kind eyes you'll see them deity." Her gray face cut into him like a razor. In the dim light it was like looking at a steely metal mold. Apollo recoiled and noticed his senses dulled. The tea.
"Better a sip than a smoke as they say."
Apollo was reminded of the Pythia. Known as the Oracle of Delphi, the Pythia  had got her name from the python that he himself had slain. She had been a powerful prophetess, her mystical operations a supposed mystery.
"Enthusiasmos." He said quietly.
"Ah, you do see!" She beamed at him. Her yellowing teeth and wolfish grin cracked her face into something macabre. "It was always you, dear Apollo. You gave me sight!"
"When did you awake?" He asked.
"Oh, I didn't Descend child. I was born human. But when the stars fell, I witnessed their fiery descent. Your descent.
"You haven't told me where they are."
"Because I don't know!" She spat. "They're around, many from both sides of the ocean."
The woman sat a candle down on the table and struck a match. It took her a couple tried but she got the wick lit, using her index finger and thumb as a guide. She looked up and Apollo swore she could see him.
"There's a storm coming. A big'un."
"What have you seen Pythia?"
The woman cackled and opened the door. Apollo felt the cool summer breeze on his bare arms. Although a warm night, it still brought goosebumps. Or perhaps it was what she said.
"The storm." He prodded.
"Beware it child, the clouds are rolling in angry. Best to find shelter while you can."
Always a riddle. Apollo thought perturbed.  She closed the door leaving Apollo on her doorstep. Then the bulb overhead went black. He looked up into the clear night sky and thought of rain.