by Joan Holub
Huh? Since she wasn’t supposed to talk to mortals, Clotho silently pocketed the stone. She only smiled as he pinned a button to her chiton that read GAME ON! and waved her through another arch.
Once past the second arch she wound up standing in a dimly lit, enormous room packed with eager young mortal and immortal customers who’d come for the grand opening. She scanned the crowd and spotted Aphrodite, Athena, and Pandora. Cassandra had likely stayed behind in the bakery, hoping to sell goodies to customers who wandered by, as well as to help prepare for Zeus’s birthday party tomorrow.
Some godboys were standing near the MOA goddessgirls. She easily recognized Ares who held his spear and wore a helmet. And Poseidon, the god of the sea, who was holding a drippy three-pronged trident. And was that black-haired godboy with him Apollo? Probably. He looked a lot like Artemis, his twin. However, Artemis was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Persephone.
Squinting, Clotho noticed an enormous, deep pit in the center of the room and, at the room’s far end, a small stage. At one side of the stage was a long, fancy table laden with snacks and drinks, likely all supplied by Cassandra’s bakery. And maybe including (fingers crossed) something a kitten would like! Lots of kids were gathering around the table, putting goodies on small plates and then wandering off to munch them. She started sidling her way toward the table to check out the offerings, but halted in her tracks when trumpets blared, grabbing everyone’s attention.
A spotlight flashed onto a man and woman wearing golden crowns, who came to stand atop the small stage. The man lifted his arms and spoke in a voice that commanded everyone’s attention. “Greetings, one and all! I am King Oeneus, ruler of Calydon on mainland Greece, east of the Ionian Sea.”
The woman beside him smiled brightly and added, “And I am Queen Althea of Calydon. We humbly welcome you, immortals, mortals, and beasts, to the grand opening of our new shop, Game On!” The pair whipped their purple velvet capes in grand flourishes and bowed low. Thunderous whoops and cheers sounded from the excited crowd.
Beasts? thought Clotho. Her eyes darted around, finally spotting two centaurs standing over in a corner. They had the upper bodies of humans and the lower bodies and legs of horses. The reddish-brown hair on their heads matched that on their haunches.
After the royals straightened, the king continued speaking in a loud voice while waving his arms excitedly, sort of like an energetic music conductor or a magician. “Today we open with our first game. Prepare to witness a sensational spectacle! Behold… the arena!”
At his words, the hundreds of candles in the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling of the large room suddenly brightened. What had at first appeared to be a mysterious dark pit was now revealed to be a round sunken arena that took up most of the floor space in the center of the room.
Everyone, including Clotho, rushed to stand along a waist-high railing to look down into the arena some twenty feet below. At the moment, it was empty of people. Two rows of bleacher seats ringed its upper edge just below the railing, but no one took a seat just yet.
Behind them on the little stage, the king chose that moment to announce, “Today, two teams will battle it out in that arena in a test of skill the likes of which has never been seen before!”
A thrilled gasp rippled over the crowd, and excited chatter broke out. “This is gonna be the coolest thing ever!” “Oh my gods!” “Cannot wait!”
Since all attention was focused on the arena in anticipation of what might happen there soon, Clotho could have headed for the snack table. Should have, and then gotten herself outta there.
But like the others, she was irresistibly drawn to examine the arena. It was similar to the one at the Colosseum in Rome, Italy, she couldn’t help noticing. She and her sisters sometimes met there to spin mortal fates. However, the Roman Colosseum was outdoors and much bigger, whereas Game On! had a domed ceiling to keep weather out.
Thinking of the bakery she’d visited earlier, she decided that this arena’s setup was sort of like a gigantic doughnut—the doughy part being the balcony where she and everyone else now stood, and the doughnut hole being the actual arena in the middle, sunken more than one floor below. It was divided into thirds, sort of like three pizza slices. Only, one of the pizza slices was currently lit for a game, while the other two were curtained off.
Clotho leaned forward and craned her neck to study the one-third part of the arena where the upcoming game was apparently to be played. Wowza! It was amazing! An elaborate set that included sculpted hills, towers, and randomly placed obstacles like craggy rock towers and trees. There were rope ladders, trampolines, and a waterfall, too. The walls surrounding the arena were painted with figures resembling famous Greek statues and landmarks in scenes that celebrated glorious feats of the goddesses and gods.
“It’s mega-awesome!” a strong-looking mortal boy shouted out from beside her. “But who gets to be on the teams?” The boy was holding a very large club as if it weighed nothing at all. This must be Heracles! He was one of the few exceptional mortals who attended Mount Olympus Academy. Just beyond him at the railing stood Ares, Aphrodite, and Athena.
King Oeneus spoke again, confirming her guess about the boy’s identity. “Glad you asked, Heracles! It is now time to choose our two captains, who will then get a chance to select their team members. You should all have received a numbered stone upon entering Game On! My queen will randomly choose the first team captain by calling out a number. Please check it against your stone.”
A hush fell. The queen reached into a bag and pulled from it a small piece of papyrus. After reading something written upon it, she called out, “Number fifty-one!”
There were murmurs, and then a mortal boy’s voice rose from the crowd. “Hey! That’s my number, Mom!”
“Looks like Prince Meleager will be the first team captain,” said the happily surprised queen. She clasped her hands in delight and smiled at her son with great affection as he showed off for everyone, making muscle poses.
Clotho cocked her head to study the prince. Meleager? Why did that name sound so familiar? And why did hearing it make her feel so… uneasy? Like with all mortals, she had surely read his name from the Destiny List on the day he was born. But there had been so many names over the years, she couldn’t remember them all. For example, she hadn’t recalled Cassandra’s or Pandora’s names when she’d met them today. So what was different about Meleager that made her recall his?
“Today’s other team captain will be…” The king pulled another piece of papyrus from the bag. After glancing at it, he paused to draw out the tension, then loudly called out, “Number twenty-five!”
At his words, a tall, slender young mortal woman with hair as long and golden as Aphrodite’s sprang from the crowd to more cheers. She wore a white chiton and matching sandals, and had the muscular legs of a runner. “That’s me! I’m Atalanta!” she announced, holding up a stone painted with the matching number.
“Congratulations, captains! You may now each select four additional players from among those assembled here to be on your teams. No Mount Olympus Academy students for this first game, though, in order to keep skills fairly evenly matched,” directed the queen. Disappointed grumbles came from some of the MOA-ers. “Don’t worry,” the queen told them, “you’ll be able to play a second version of this game tomorrow, with new additions to make the battle even more challenging. And another all-new game will be introduced tomorrow for you to test-run as well!” Her words soothed the MOA students, instantly changing their grumbles to cheers.
“Now, Meleager, since you drew the higher number, you may choose your team first,” the king chimed in.
Everyone turned toward the prince, awaiting his teammate choices. But Meleager just stood there. He was staring at Atalanta, who was standing only a few feet away from him. The look on his face was weird, sort of lovey-dovey.
Observing this from a distance, Aphrodite smiled. Clotho heard her murmur, “I smell an insta-crush.”
; “ ‘Insta’?” echoed Athena. “Oh, I get it—short for ‘instant,’ as in liking someone at first sight?”
Ares’ eyebrows rose as he interrupted to ask Aphrodite, “Who—you mean Meleager and Atalanta?”
Nodding, she replied, “Mm-hm. That boy is crushing on Atalanta or my title isn’t goddessgirl of love and beauty.”
When Meleager continued to stare at Atalanta without speaking, Atalanta planted her hands on her hips and frowned at him. “C’mon. Choose, dude! Let’s get this show on the road!”
“Ha! Atalanta has got to be at least sixteen or seventeen years old,” Ares scoffed quietly to Aphrodite. “Meleager’s our age, like twelve or thirteen. No way she’s going to see him as anything but a kid.”
Aphrodite nodded. “Alas for Meleager, you’re right. Although Atalanta is very young-looking, I happen to know that she’s nineteen and got married recently, a romance I helped to blossom. Matters of the heart are often complicated.” She exchanged a smile with Ares. His eyes on hers went goo-goo sweet for a moment. The two of them were crushes, Clotho had read somewhere. Probably in Pheme’s gossip column.
Atalanta’s urging seemed to temporarily shake Meleager out of his smitten daze. His gaze whipped across all the faces of those standing in the balcony as he prepared to select his team members.
Clotho decided she had lingered long enough. While everyone’s attention was on Meleager, she edged away from the crowd at the railing, eyeing the snack table again.
As she sidled toward it, she heard the prince announce, “I pick my cousins Plexippus and Toxeus. And the centaurs Hylaeus and Rhaecus.” Cheers sounded, and Clotho glanced back to see two red-haired, freckle-faced guys move to stand at his side. One looked maybe fourteen years old and the other maybe fifteen. The pair of centaurs she’d noticed earlier clip-clopped over to him as well to round out his team.
Atalanta made her first choices in a sure voice. “I choose two of my fellow Argonauts—Jason and Euphemus. They’ve got skills!”
When the crowd chuckled at her enthusiasm, she set a hand at her hip. “What? They do! I ought to know. I sailed with them and the other Argonauts on the ship Argo. And guess who won the Golden Fleece?” She tapped a fingertip on her chin, pretending to think hard.
“The Argonauts!” the crowd whooped, supplying her with an answer she already knew. Jason and Euphemus raced over to join her, and the three of them punched victorious fists high. Clotho grinned. Those mortals had been instrumental in stealing the famed Golden Fleece from that oak tree the Fates had sat in last night!
“Next, I choose Theseus,” Atalanta said. “To honor his bravery in defeating the very scary Minotaur, a monster at King Minos’s amusement park on the island of Crete.” More cheers sounded as her third choice, a boy with dreadlocks and brown eyes, shot over to join her.
Everyone held their breath as she surveyed the crowd, searching out a final team member. Many tried to catch her eye, including a mortal girl named Medusa, who had a dozen snakes for hair. Right now they were all wiggling wildly and gesturing toward Medusa for consideration, even though she probably wasn’t eligible due to being one of those special mortals who was a student at MOA.
Finally Clotho made it to the snack table. Her brown eyes went wide as they took in the bounty upon it. There was plenty here that a kitten might enjoy—little tuna sandwiches, chicken rolls, beef tips, and more. Score! She opened her bag, digging around for something to use as a food container.
“Watch out, will you? You trying to squash me or something?” complained a tiny, squeaky voice from within her bag.
Huh? Were her finger puppets talking now, or what? Clotho peered deeper inside her bag, then blinked. Eight little beady eyes stared back up at her. She jerked back in surprise, accidentally elbowing a flask of water sitting on the edge of the table. Crash! The sound of the flask hitting the floor echoed into the quiet that had fallen over the crowd in the balcony as they awaited Atalanta’s final choice.
“Calm down. It’s just me,” said the tiny voice.
“Arachne?” Clotho hissed. “How did you get here?”
“Hopped on your shoulder back in the shop stairwell, then parachuted via web strand into your bag when you picked it up. Easy-peasy,” that annoying spider explained.
Just then, a shout rang out from Atalanta. “You! I choose you! What’s your name?”
When no one responded, Clotho glanced around. Oh no! Atalanta was pointing. Right. At. Her!
Rising to her feet, Clotho grabbed her bag, slinging its straps over one shoulder again with the spider inside. “Who, me? I’m, uh, I’m Clotho,” she blurted out. Argh! Third time in a row she’d given her real name! Too late to make up a fake name now. But just as before no one seemed to realize she was one of the Fates, so she supposed it didn’t really matter.
A path through the crowd opened between her and Atalanta. Smiling big, the young woman jogged over and clapped a friendly arm around her. “Perfect-o! Clotho is a cool-o name-o,” she said, playfully mimicking the o sound at the end of Clotho’s name. “Welcome to Team Atalanta!”
Clotho tried to pull away. “No! You don’t want me on your team-o. I mean team. I’m not really good at games. Or sports. I knit.” Soft giggles rippled through the balcony at her goofy reply.
Atalanta just looked at her curiously as if she wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not. Then she grinned and elbowed her. “Ha-ha! Good one. S’okay. I like to pick a wild card in team sports. Keeps things interesting. Besides, smarts are mostly what’s needed in any competition, and you look smart to me. You’ll do fine.”
Clotho shook her head in protest. “I’m honored to be chosen, but—” Before she could politely but firmly decline, Atalanta tugged her back through the crowd. (That girl was strong!) Within seconds they’d joined the eight others standing near the king and queen’s stage.
“Let’s hear it for Team Meleager and Team Atalanta! Good luck to both,” declared Oeneus and Althea.
Clotho gazed around. The audience of immortals and mortals was now wildly cheering. Though she’d only read three of those letters that unhappy mortals had sent to her and her sisters, she was certain she’d never forget a single hurtful word of what they’d said. So it felt kind of good to hear everyone, especially the mortals here, rooting for her.
Before she knew it, two grinning stagehands wearing sparkly Game On! hats were herding all ten participants down a ramp, heading for the arena below. As they walked, Clotho and the others waved and smiled at the cheering onlookers, who watched their progress from up on the balcony.
What would happen if she performed well in these games? Clotho wondered dreamily. If mortals somehow learned she was a Fate, brave deeds done by her in the upcoming challenge might make them think better of her and her sisters.
Clank! The sound of the arena’s metal gate swinging shut behind her and the other team members pulled her out of her wistful daydreaming. Her footsteps slowed. Wait a minute. What was she thinking? That fantasy could never be. Zeus and her two sisters were totally against the Fates ever revealing their identities to mortals or hanging out with them. She needed to get out of here, pronto.
Whirling around, she saw that she was trapped in the arena! Dazzled by mortal cheers, she’d been lulled into making a very big mistake. Competing in this game was definitely going to result in her mingling with mortals. Which would break Zeus’s third rule for what felt like the bazillionth time today!
She ran back to send a pleading look through the bars of the metal gate at the two stagehands who’d remained on the ramp beyond it. “Wait! Yoo-hoo! Let me out. I—I can’t play after all,” she told them.
One of them peered closely at her through the bars. “You sick?”
“Well, no,” Clotho admitted.
“Then you stay. And you play,” ordered the other stagehand. “Once this gate is closed, it won’t reopen till the winning team is declared. Off with you! Go suit up in your combat gear with your team.”
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�Wait—” Clotho started to argue, but the stagehands were already tromping away.
Bawk! Bawk! Arachne’s voice floated up to her from inside her travel bag. That spider was making chicken noises at her?
“Hush! I am not a scaredy-cat—er, chicken,” Clotho hissed at Arachne. “I simply cannot be here. Zeus wouldn’t like it.”
Before Arachne could reply, Atalanta clapped a hand on Clotho’s shoulder. Clotho sagged a little. Because… Ow! Her team captain did not know her own strength!
“C’mon, Clotho!” Atalanta urged. “This is gonna be so-o fun-o!” She giggled. Apparently, she really, really thought it was funny to mimic Clotho’s name by adding os to the ends of other words. Her grin was so friendly, though, that it was kind of flattering. This was how friends probably treated one another, she decided, bestowing cute nicknames. Was Atalanta trying to be her friend?
She let Atalanta lead her away from the gate and over to the cubbies along one wall of the arena. There, like everyone else, Clotho stowed her bag and sandals, then dressed in combat gear, including a helmet, boots, and a shield. Then the others picked out spears and arrows. Gulp! Clotho didn’t know how to use either!
“Ya know, being the only female crew member sailing the Argo got really old,” Atalanta said to her as they suited up. “Nice to have you aboard for this game. I figure us women-os gotta stick together, righty-o? Show the boy-os our girl power!”
Clotho smiled weakly. “Yeah. Um, stick together… girl power… righty-o.” Having no other choice, once they’d all been properly outfitted, she followed Atalanta and other players into the arena.
Their footsteps seemed to activate some kind of magic. Instantly, everything in the arena—landscape features and obstacles alike—began to come alive and shift position and even change shape! Trees swayed. Hills sprouted flowers or brambles, which formed hedges, which then turned into animal topiaries. Towers and rocks grew smaller, then larger, smoother, then craggier, and then reverted back again. Large and small trampolines bounced themselves around the arena aimlessly, dipping low as if inviting players to jump up and down on them.