Free Helen and Troy's Epic Road Quest by A. Lee Martinez Page A

neighborhood that she couldn’t tell much about except that it was gray and dingy.
    â€œWaechter said there would be a sign,” he said.
    She pointed to a street sign reading AUGURY AVENUE . “Does that count?”
    â€œIt’s a little literal, isn’t it?”
    Helen said, “Depends. How many people do you think know the definition of the word augury ?”
    â€œWell, there’s the two of us, obviously.”
    â€œObviously. So either we’re just two people who took Honors English together or it’s our sign.”
    He drove down Augury Avenue. In the space of a few blocks, a subtle shift transformed the neighborhood around them. They couldn’t say exactly when the transition had happened. It wasn’t as if they had felt the crackle of electricity down their spines or noticed all the people disappearing one by one. However it had happened, it had happened unnoticed, and they found themselves driving through an empty neighborhood.
    Their curse marks stopped itching.
    Cars were parked on the streets, but none moved down the road. The brisk pedestrian traffic had vanished. While the sounds of a bustling city could be heard, they didn’t have any visible source. The brick buildings all looked several decades old but in pristine condition. There was a smattering of graffiti, and a few scraps of litter blew through the streets, but it all seemed meticulously placed.
    Troy rolled the Chimera to a slow stop. “Weird.”
    Helen stepped out of the car. When her hoof hit the street, a tingle ran up her leg, the sense that they weren’t in the world they knew anymore.
    â€œI’d call this a sign,” she said.
    â€œYeah, but of what?” asked Troy.
    A breeze kicked up, blowing a piece of wrinkled paper past Helen’s face. It snagged on her right horn. She pulled it off and read it. It was a crude photocopied advertisement for a lunch truck: “The Meat Wagon. We got what you need.”
    She handed the paper to Troy. “What do you think it means?”
    â€œProbably means we should find this thing.”
    Helen sighed. “Great. So the first leg of our quest is all about finding a lunch truck. Where do we start?”
    â€œHow about over there?” Troy pointed to a lunch wagon parked just down the block.
    Helen hopped back in the car. “That was easier than I expected.”
    As they approached the Meat Wagon, they spotted the first people they’d seen since entering this mystical street. The single customer was a woman, perhaps forty, dressed in a bathrobe and disheveled. The guy behind the counter was a hairy, thick fellow in a fez.
    The truck itself sparkled like a polished diamond. If that diamond were made of aluminum and smelled of grease.
    Helen and Troy parked beside it and approached. They kept their distance, but still caught the tail end of the current customer’s conversation.
    â€œWhat you’re going to need to do,” said the truck operator, “is get on the first flight to Galveston you can book. Then you’re going to check into the hotel at this address…” He scribbled something on a napkin. “Tell them Castor sent you and they’ll give you a discount rate. Then, on the night of the next full moon, take a swim in the pool. Enjoy yourself. Eventually, you’ll notice some flowers on the bottom. Take one—and only one—and get out of the pool and walk back to your room without looking back.”
    She reached for the napkin, but he pulled it away.
    â€œThis is very important now. Because you’ll be tempted to take more than one flower. And you’ll definitely be tempted to look back. If you look back, then it’s done. The flower will disappear. Your journey will be over. There won’t be any second chances here. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
    She nodded vigorously.
    He looked unconvinced but handed the napkin to her. “I’m