Oh My Gods

by Alexandra Sheppard

Dad pursed his lips so hard that they practically disappeared. Aphrodite swore under her breath. Eros glared at her.

  “Mother, keep your thoughts to yourself. This is Helen’s announcement to make,” he said.

  “It gets worse,” I said. “The other thing is that he filmed the video. He promised that he wouldn’t show anyone. But,” I said, holding back the tears, “he lied!” The reminder of Marco’s betrayal made me cry even harder.

  “You’re not pregnant, then?” Dad asked.

  “WHAT?” I shrieked. “Why the heck would you think I was pregnant?”

  “Well, you looked so upset. And the first thing you did was tell us about your secret older boyfriend. I suppose, as a father, I just assumed the worst.”

  “I’ve got to admit, you had me worried there for a second too, darling,” said Aphrodite.

  “And me. Sorry,” Eros said.

  “Well, there’s more. The third thing you need to know.” This was the big one. Telling the truth was going to hurt, but I had to be brave. “I tried everything to stop Marco from sharing the video. So I thought that … that if I told him why he shouldn’t share it, he wouldn’t. I trusted him.”

  Four pairs of eyes stared back at me, waiting. But they must have known what I was about to say.

  I took a deep breath. “So I told him the truth. About us. Where you’re from and what … what I am.”

  Telling the truth didn’t make me feel any better. I had betrayed them all.

  I’d never felt more ashamed. The longer they were silent, the fiercer my cheeks burned with embarrassment. I wanted to slip out of the front door and never return.

  “Aren’t you angry at me?” I asked between sniffles. Anger I could take. Dad’s rage or Aphrodite’s spite was exactly what I deserved.

  But I couldn’t deal with their silent disappointment.

  Dad nodded, his lips pursed so tightly they looked like a straight line. “Yes, I’m angry. I’m angry at my children for breaking the rules, including you, Helen,” he said. “Above all, I’m angry at myself. Moving you in with us was a grave mistake.”

  I sniffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “My duty is to protect you and I’ve failed.” Dad looked the most serious I’d ever seen him. It scared me.

  “But it’s going to be OK, isn’t it, Dad? Marco didn’t tell the newspapers that you were gods. He’d look crazy if he did!”

  The gods exchanged glances and shifted in their seats. Eros put his arm around me and hugged me even tighter.

  “I don’t think you understand, Helen. The Council are serious about enforcing the rules. Deadly serious,” Dad said.

  What did that mean? The other gods were way too quiet.

  Dad sighed. “The first rule: Gods must not reveal their immortal identity unless there are extraordinary circumstances. I’m afraid this counts as rule-breaking, Helen.”

  My heart pounded dull and heavy in my chest. “Yes, but Marco won’t tell anyone else. He promised,” I whispered pathetically.

  “It doesn’t matter, Helen. The Council already know,” Dad said. He produced a small cream scroll from his back pocket. The same one that Hermes delivered. “This is the official message from the Council.” He unrolled the scroll at both ends, and we all leaned in to read … absolutely nothing. The scroll was blank.

  Suddenly, the paper flickered into life. Lines of handwriting appeared, floated off the page and hung in mid-air. The writing slowly expanded, becoming larger and larger, until it could be read from the other side of the room.

  Devastated as I was, I couldn’t help but feel impressed. It looked like something from a sci-fi movie.

  The words said:

  The Rules were put in place in order to maintain harmony between gods and mortals.

  To break these rules is to disrupt a careful balance designed to protect mortals from harm.

  It has come to our attention that Rule One has been broken.

  You must come to Mount Olympus and prepare for judgement.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure he kept that promise,” Apollo said grimly. He was the only one who looked angry.

  “Apollo, not now!” Dad said.

  “Do you realize what you’ve done, Helen? Thanks to your lover boy, we will never see earth again!” Apollo spat.

  “W-w-what?” I stuttered.

  Apollo smirked. “Don’t you get it? Cranus and the Council will push for the maximum punishment. We will be banished to Mount Olympus for the rest of our lives. And that’s if the Council are in a good mood. If they’re not, then—”

  “QUIET!” Dad roared, his face puce with rage. Apollo fell silent.

  “Tell me. Then what? What happens?” I asked. Despite Eros having his arm around me, I suddenly felt cold.

  “Then we’ll be stripped of our powers and immortality. It will kill us instantly,” Aphrodite said. Her eyes filled with tears. It was the most human she’d ever looked.

  It terrified me.

  “But that’s not fair!” I gasped. “This was my fault. Why should you be punished for it?”

  Dad smiled weakly. “The Council won’t see it that way. You were in our protection, and we’re all responsible for one another. We will be tried and sentenced as a family.”

  “How long do we have? Before the trial?” I asked.

  “We leave for Mount Olympus on Friday night,” Dad said.

  Two days. I had just two days before my life changed for ever. The tears returned with full force, and I sobbed harder than ever before.

  “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled between sobs.

  Dad looked at me sadly. “So am I.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  The morning after, I got ready for school in a stupor. My head swam with all the ways that I’d messed up in the past few days. I’d betrayed my family for a boy.

  Plus, I’d have to tell my mates that Marco and I were over, too. That’s if they were even still talking to me – I hadn’t heard from any of them since our bust-up.

  I didn’t know how I was going to get through the day. My friends would definitely know that something was up, but what was I meant to say? Sorry I’m not myself today – turns out that my dream boy betrayed my entire family for a bit of cash from the local newspaper.

  When I came downstairs for a quick breakfast and Dad was there, whistling to himself as he made his morning espresso, I thought he’d officially lost it. How could he act normal at a time like this?

  “Having a day off work?” I asked. Dad was wearing jeans and a polo shirt. Hardly scruffy, but definitely not the sort of outfit he usually wore to the university.

  “Helen, darling, how’s your day looking? Any important lessons or assignments due?” he asked.

  I shook my head. Homework was the last thing on my mind. How could he pester me about school at a time like this? Did I imagine Hermes giving us a warning from the Council last night? We had much bigger things to worry about.

  “Excellent! Then get changed into your normal clothes and meet me back down here at nine thirty a.m., please. I’ll deal with your school,” Dad said, punching buttons on his phone. “We’re going on a trip together.”

  Huh? Was this my dad actively helping me to skive off school?

  I sent the girls a message saying I was off sick (which was technically true – I didn’t have any physical symptoms, but my brain was mashed). I could tell them that Dad randomly decided on a surprise day trip, but then I’d have to explain why I’d been having such a tough time lately. The last thing I wanted to think about.

  Gosh. Lying before I’d even left the house.

  I went downstairs to find Dad waiting by the front door. We got the tube into Central London. I reminded Dad that I didn’t have the chance to finish breakfast, so needed to eat some food. We stopped by a cool-looking coffee shop with wooden benches. To eat, I ordered three custard tarts (two for now, one for the road). Dad stuck to his usual order of an espresso. Dull as ever.

  Being in town on a school day was su
ch a novelty, but there was still a Mount Olympus–sized elephant in the room. I picked at my custard tart while Dad read the newspaper. Was he looking out for mentions of Aphrodite’s video?

  I went to take an Instagram photo of the cute pastries, but Dad reminded me that might not be a good idea. “Helen, please refrain from using social media for just one day. Not only would I like your full attention, but it may also well give away the fact that you aren’t in bed recovering from a tummy bug,” Dad said.

  He was right. I’d have to save the Insta-brags for later. “Is that what you told the school?”

  “I did. It should explain your absence for the trial over the next few days.”

  The trial. This weekend. It hovered over my thoughts like a rain cloud. We’d have to talk about it eventually. But I didn’t want to ruin our first day out together since … I couldn’t remember when.

  After our coffees we walked down Oxford Circus, past all of the shops. For a minute, I got all excited and thought Dad was going to take me on a wild shopping spree. But then I remembered that this was Dad. The only shopping spree he’d consider would be one in a dusty second-hand bookshop.

  We carried on walking for about fifteen minutes, took a left turn and then I realized where we were headed to because the building was smack bang in front of me. The British Museum.

  When I lived with Mum and had my monthly day trips with Dad, we nearly always went to this place. At the time, I thought Dad loved it so much because the entry was free and he was tight. Now, it made much more sense. The place is stuffed with ancient statues and paintings from all over the world. Including Greece. For Dad, it’s the closest thing to a time capsule. He perked up as we walked through the grand columns towards the entrance.

  “You know, darling, it’s been years since I’ve been back to this place. I think the last time was with you,” Dad said.

  We both remembered the time well, then. It was the last normal day out I had with Dad because Mum had the accident not long after and everything changed for ever. I just nodded in response.

  “Anyway, the best thing about coming back now is that I can give you one of my special tours! You wouldn’t believe the gossip I have on some of these statues,” Dad said with a wink.

  The tour turned out to be our most fun trip to the museum yet. I got to drop by the unwrapped mummy, an exhibit that terrified me as a kid, and see that it didn’t look quite as scary as I remembered. The thought of the trial didn’t go away, but it wasn’t all I was thinking about either. Anything had to be better than sitting in school and putting on a brave face.

  When we reached the Parthenon exhibit, Dad seemed to get a bit emotional.

  “You should have seen this temple in its heyday, Helen. Imagine a huge gold-and-ivory statue of Athena in the centre, surrounded by water pools sparkling in the sunlight,” he said. “On feast days, the scent of roasted meat would fill the air. Athena’s priestesses were the most powerful women in the city of Athens, you know.”

  “Just fascinating! You sure do know your stuff,” said a woman’s voice with an American twang. We both turned to find an old couple hanging on to Dad’s every word.

  Dad even went a little wild in the gift shop: pyramid-shaped erasers for me and a book on the history of London’s sewers for him. He insisted it was an intriguing subject. I said I’d just take his word for it.

  Before we knew it, it was lunchtime. We walked around for a bit before deciding on a Japanese restaurant near the museum. I ordered my favourite thing to eat at Japanese restaurants: a plate of chicken katsu curry bigger than my head. Dad swapped his usual black coffee for a pot of jasmine tea.

  “You’re not eating anything, Dad?” I asked after the waiter noted down our orders.

  “No, darling. I only eat so that my dining companion won’t raise any eyebrows. It would look very strange indeed if, say, when I took Lisa to dinner, I sat there and ate nothing.”

  “Nothing like Apollo, then,” I said smirking. Maria still complained about the size of his appetite. “Where does that food even go?”

  “Food does much the same thing to you as it does to us,” Dad said. “Some foods can boost our energy, and too much of other foods can affect us too. The only difference is that food isn’t essential for our existence.”

  So Aphrodite really was on to something with those organic green smoothies every morning.

  “While I very much enjoy the tastes and smells of food, and the joy of sharing meals with the people I love, it feels somewhat distasteful to eat something I don’t need. Especially when so many people go without,” Dad continued. I’d never thought of it that way.

  “Anyway, one of the many benefits of the modern world is that far fewer people are hungry. It’s heartening to see humanity improve and develop over the centuries.”

  I put my chopsticks down. It annoyed me so much when Dad brought up this conversation. Humanity may have “developed” since the days of no soap or plumbing, but there are still some terrible things going on in the world.

  As if he predicted my incoming rant, Dad held up one palm to stop me from interrupting.

  “Yes, yes, I know. Humanity is far from perfect. Fewer people may be starving, but inequality is rife the world over. Helen, you don’t have to tell me. I’ve seen it all,” Dad said. “But I have to give credit where it’s due. The world is a far kinder place to live now than it was three thousand years ago.”

  While Dad flagged down the waiter for the bill, I wondered what would have happened if Mum had never jumped on her bike. Or if that driver had never knocked her over, or if she’d held on until the ambulance arrived. Would she be here with Dad and me, tutting because I decided to eat meat even though she raised me vegetarian? Would I even have a relationship with Dad beyond monthly trips to museums? No Maria, Aphrodite or Eros. No creaking house filled with ancient artefacts. No gods interfering with my life.

  No trial. It didn’t take long for my thoughts to return to that. The restaurant was practically empty after the lunchtime rush. My questions couldn’t wait any longer. But where to begin?

  “Dad. I’ve been meaning to ask. Why does Cranus have it in for you?” I phrased my question carefully. Even though the restaurant was practically empty after the lunchtime rush, I didn’t want to risk being overheard.

  Dad sipped his tea. “Some years ago, Cranus’s wife came to me for counsel. She was desperate for a separation, and he wouldn’t agree to it,” he said. “I overruled Cranus and assisted her in starting a new life far away from him. Unfortunately, he remains bitter about it to this day.”

  “So he blames you for stealing his wife?”

  “Something like that, yes,” he said. “Ever since, Cranus has been looking for the perfect opportunity to pounce.”

  My heart sank. “And Cranus is on the Council, right?”

  Dad nodded. “He’s their most powerful and longstanding member. Ultimately the Council strives for fairness, but Cranus holds a good deal of power. It will make our trial … challenging.”

  I started to wish I hadn’t asked. Was it better to go into the trial knowing what to expect?

  I was dreading it either way.

  “I don’t know how best to prepare you for the days ahead, Helen,” Dad said, as if reading my thoughts. “But I’ll answer any questions you have.”

  “What will I have to do? At the trial?”

  A waiter brought a fresh pot of jasmine tea for Dad and took my empty plate. We were quiet until he disappeared back into the kitchen.

  “A trial – especially one involving us – is quite the event back home,” Dad said. He was also being careful with his words. “Many people will be interested in the trial. And interested in you, too.”

  “Why?” I didn’t have immortal life or special powers. I was just another half-mortal child of a god. There have been plenty of those in history.

  Dad looked surprised at my question. “Because you’re a child of Zeus.” Did he realize how pompous he sounded talking about hi
mself in the third person? “But there’s another layer of intrigue. You are on trial. I imagine it’s the most exciting news to reach that sleepy little realm in centuries.”

  The idea that I was known on Mount Olympus was too surreal for me to grasp. “So I’m, like, famous there?”

  Dad nodded.

  “So how will we get to Mount Olympus, anyway?” I asked. I imagined whirling portals to another dimension, or winged horses flying us to a cloud-topped mountain.

  Dad snorted like I’d said something silly. “We don’t, my dear. Mount Olympus will come to us. Our technology allows for the trial to happen in both realms at the same time. None of us want to visit Mount Olympus unless it’s strictly necessary, Helen.”

  Oh. I felt slightly deflated. “Right. So where do we go?”

  “The trial will take place in a court of mortals, somewhere in London. Where exactly will be determined shortly.”

  In just a few days, I’d be in a court room facing the Council. It began to feel less like something happening in a crazy fever dream, and more like real life.

  I wanted to be as prepared as possible, even if talking about this trial made me feel sick with nerves. “Dad, what else can you tell me about this trial?”

  “Forgive me. I forget that you know nothing about the legal system back home,” Dad said. “We will face the twelve Council members. Now, an interesting fact about them is that their gowns signify their rank. The longer they’ve been serving, the darker the gown.”

  Here we go with the not-so-interesting facts. I should have asked Athena.

  “Stop there, Dad. Can you tell me stuff that’s, you know, relevant?” I asked.

  “Right. Of course. The trial will last for two days and we can’t leave the court at all while it lasts. So be prepared for an overnight stay, as well as a dinner with some of our most senior officials.”

  “Fine,” I said, nodding. Usually the thought of a dinner with Mount Olympians (who I can only assume are as stuffy as Dad) would have me rolling my eyes. But it didn’t feel important.

  “And we gods need to submit a written testimony, which is our statement of defence,” Dad said.