TWENTY-ONE
THEY DROVE FOR A DAY AND A HALF, hauling the Airstream, making their way through the tapes in Daire’s glovebox. It had become something of a mission, and maybe a bonding exercise to try to identify the song and the artist, so she could write them down on the notepad Harry provided.
They didn’t get through the whole collection, though they were nearly there when Harry grew serious and told her to switch the music off. All she saw on either side were fields. Civilization had dwindled a few miles back. Now they were surrounded by farmland, with only sporadic houses dotted around far from the road.
“Are we there?” she asked, wondering why a doctor would live on a farm. “Why does he live out here? When did he leave Olympus?”
“Asclepius continued to do work for us up until just a
