by Joan Holub
Hestia glanced over her shoulder at Zeus and frowned. “I was hoping he and his armies had lost our trail. That’s what it seemed like, anyway.”
“Well, I’m thinking that our trail is pretty easy to follow,” Zeus replied. “I mean, everywhere we go orchards and plants spring up.”
Poseidon gave a snort. “Definitely easier to follow than a trail of breadcrumbs.”
“Pythia told me to drop a seed in every village we came to,” Demeter said, sounding hurt. “I’m just doing what she said. Using my Magic Seeds to help people.”
“It’s the right thing to do,” Hestia said from beside her. “And you should keep doing it.”
Hera was behind them. “I don’t know,” she said doubtfully. “Maybe you could hold off dropping seeds until we reach Lake Stymphalia, Demeter. We don’t need any more monsters attacking us right now.”
“Aw, you’re just jealous because Demeter’s got the Magic Seeds and you don’t,” Poseidon needled her.
His words caused silence to fall over the rest of the Olympians. The gloomy forest air got even chillier. Everybody knew that Hera was upset about not having a magical object of her own, but until now nobody had dared to say it out loud. They all knew how angry she could get. All of them except Zeus and Apollo had lived with her in the smelly belly of the giant Titan King Cronus for years. But Poseidon couldn’t resist teasing his sister.
“I’m not jealous of a bunch of seeds,” Hera said firmly, her voice as cold as ice.
“Maybe the aegis will turn out to be your magical object,” Hestia said hopefully. “You could wear it over your tunic.”
Hera made a face. “I don’t know. A shield doesn’t sound all that exciting to me.”
“It sounded pretty cool the way Pythia described it,” Zeus offered. “It has one hundred tassels of pure gold hanging from it.”
Hera gave him a small smile. “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”
Zeus was relieved. If we could keep Hera happy, everybody else would be happy too.
“We should pick up our pace,” he said. He held up his thunderbolt, which had shrunk to the size of his arm. It glowed with a shimmering white light. “Bolt and Hestia’s torch will light our path.”
“Don’t forget Chip,” Hera said, holding the stone in her palm. A glowing arrow appeared, showing them the way to go and lending even a little more light to the darkness.
The Olympians continued on in the direction of Chip’s arrow. Darkness surrounded them like a black fog. It was quiet, but not a pleasant quiet, unfortunately—more like an eerie, thick quiet that didn’t feel natural.
And though Chip, Bolt, and the torch did help fight the darkness, it was becoming harder and harder to see. Even so, Zeus could make out Hera in front of him and Hestia and Hades by his side, but the light cast by the objects wasn’t strong enough to illuminate the whole group.
Apollo, who was in the rear, softly sang a song.
“Into the woods the heroes go.
Our hearts are brave but our spirits are low.
The darkness is as black as tar,
And we haven’t traveled very far—”
“What a depressing song,” Hera interrupted. “Can you lay off the lyre for now?”
Apollo sighed. “Just trying to cheer everyone up.”
“Are you still feeling comfy in this gloomy place?” Poseidon asked Hades.
“Not exactly,” his brother said. “In the Underworld it’s creepy, but it’s also . . . peaceful, I guess. But this creepy is something else. It’s . . .”
“Evil,” Hera said, her voice flat. “I feel like I’m swimming in evil soup.”
Zeus glanced up, hoping to see a break in the trees. Instead he saw something move in the tree branches. He stopped cold.
“Look,” he said, holding Bolt up toward the trees. “Do you see something moving up there?”
“Nuh-uh,” said Hestia.
The others didn’t see it either. But as Bolt’s shimmering light shone on the treetops, Zeus could have sworn he saw movement again.
“It’s probably just the wind,” Demeter said, but her voice sounded a little shaky and she and Hestia huddled more closely together.
As the others continued on, Zeus stayed put for a moment, staring overhead. In the black canopy above he thought he could make out little dots . . . tiny, red, glowing dots. Or were those . . . eyes?
“Look up,” Zeus called out. The rest of the Olympians stopped and gazed upward. “They look like little red eyes!”
“Probably just bugs,” Poseidon guessed, but his voice was as shaky as Demeter’s had been.
“What kinds of bugs have red eyes?” Hera scoffed.
“Well, flies do, but they don’t really glow,” answered Hades. “Maybe it’s some kind of glowworm?”
Zeus shook his head. “Up that high? I don’t know.”
“Well, whatever they are, the sooner we get out of here, the sooner we’ll get away from them,” Hera pointed out. She consulted Chip’s arrow. “Forward!” she called.
They kept walking into the gloom. Zeus strained to see farther in front of them, hoping for an end to the trees. But all around him there was a wall of darkness. Then out of nowhere came a mighty yell.
RAWR! A shadowy figure leaped out of the darkness ahead and charged toward the Olympians.
CHAPTER FOUR
Feathered Fiends
The Olympians screamed in terror. The flame on Hestia’s torch tripled in size, feeding off her panic. The bright glow lit up their attacker.
It was Poseidon! He must have gone ahead and then doubled back on them. “Ha! Gotcha!” he cried, and then he doubled over laughing.
Hera tried to punch him in the arm, but he managed to dodge her. “What is wrong with you?” she yelled.
“I was just kidding around,” Poseidon said, still grinning. “You know, you’ve been grumpier than usual.”
Hera shrugged. “Now that I know you’re my brother, it sort of feels natural.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve got armies of monsters and Titans and Cronies to fight,” Zeus reminded them. “So we have to stop fighting with one another!”
“And scaring one another too,” added Hestia, whose face was pale in the torchlight.
“All right, all right,” Poseidon said. “I see your point. Let’s get moving again.”
They plodded on through the dark forest. The dead quiet they had felt earlier was replaced by strange sounds, like the rustling of branches and swooshes of wind, but they couldn’t feel any breeze on their skin.
“What was that?” Hades suddenly cried out.
“What was what?” Zeus asked.
“I felt something . . . whoosh behind me,” Hades said.
“I felt it too,” added Apollo. “But when I looked back, I didn’t see anything.”
“I think our imaginations are playing tricks on us,” Hera said. She looked at the amulet she wore. “Come on, Chip, get us out of here! Where to next?”
“Isn’t that, like, the five-hundredth time you’ve asked Chip for directions?” Poseidon asked.
“If it weren’t for Chip, we’d be lost in this place,” Hera reminded him.
“Lead the way, Hera,” Zeus said.
They marched on in silence. Then, just when Zeus thought he couldn’t take another second of the creepy darkness, he saw a weak sliver of light through the trees up ahead.
He pointed. “I think we’re getting to the edge of the forest.”
Demeter nodded. “Even the ground feels different.” She pressed down with her foot on the path in front of her. “It’s all . . . squishy.”
“And smelly, too,” said Hera, wrinkling her nose.
Hades sniffed the air. “Smells pretty good to me.” Which made Hera let out a snort.
Zeus broke into a run, eager to be rid of the forest for good. Where the trees ended, a damp marsh began. Even though the canopy of treetops was gone, the sun still shone only weakly on the marsh. And the air still felt thick with gloo
m. Swamp plants with shiny green leaves, and skinny strands of marsh grass, poked up from the mud beneath his feet. Just past the marsh the pale sunlight illuminated a wide, black lake.
“I think we’re here!” he cried. “Lake Stymphalia!”
Hera held up the amulet. “What do you say, Chip?” she asked it.
“Es-yip, ere-hip,” the magic stone confirmed.
Zeus took a step into the marsh, and his foot immediately sunk into the sticky mud. “Gross!” he said. “But at least we’re out of that—”
A thundering sound interrupted him. Zeus looked up to see an enormous black cloud rise from the roof of the forest behind them. Hideous shrieks filled the air as the cloud descended on the marsh.
“Jumping jellyfish!” Poseidon yelled. “That cloud is made up of birds!”
Poseidon was right. And there were thousands of them! Maybe even zillions. They cackled and cawed at the Olympians, and the sound was deafening.
For a moment the Olympians were too stunned and frightened to move. As the attacking flock of birds circled closer, Zeus got a better look at them. Each had a pair of evil, glowing red eyes. Their feathers appeared sharp and silver, like they were made of metal. And their fierce, heavy-looking claws shone like brass.
Instinct kicked in, and the Olympians ran in all directions, trying to get away. Zeus was heading for the lake when he remembered something.
You’re supposed to lead these guys! he scolded himself. You need a plan!
He scanned the marsh. There was no way to defend themselves in this open ground. But they had been safe enough before, in the forest.
“Back into the woods!” he yelled to the others.
Screeeeech! The birds shrieked and swooped down from the sky, rocketing at the Olympians like missiles.
Hestia had heeded his suggestion and was already at the forest’s edge, with Apollo at her heels. Poseidon ran in from Zeus’s left, and Hera and Demeter charged up on Zeus’s right.
“These are some angry birds, Bro!” Poseidon yelled as he sprinted past.
Then Demeter let out a cry. From the corner of his eye, Zeus saw her trip and fall facedown into the marsh. Hera quickly reached to help her up, but Demeter gave a yelp.
“I hurt my ankle,” she said, tears filling her eyes as she set up.
Zeus raced over to his sisters. He and Hera each grabbed one of Demeter’s arms. Together, they picked her up and carried her back into the forest.
“Hey! Wait for me, guys!”
It was Hades, plodding toward them through the middle of the marsh. Zeus watched in horror as the birds dove right at Hades.
Whirring sounds filled the air as the birds began to shoot feathers that were sharp as arrows. Hades froze in his tracks.
“Heeeeeeeelp!” he yelled, sounding terrified.
Suddenly mounds of white glop dropped from the sky all around him. Where the glop hit the marsh grass, the plants instantly sizzled and died.
“It’s deadly bird poop!” Poseidon shouted in horror.
Hades’s brown eyes grew wide, but he was still too afraid to move.
“Hades, run!” Zeus commanded.
“Put on your helm!” added Hestia.
Remembering the helm seemed to unfreeze Hades. He quickly put it on and turned invisible.
The birds shrieked even louder now, angry and confused. More sharp feathers rained down from the sky as they circled over the spot where Hades had been.
Zeus held his breath, worried for his brother.
Would Hades make it safely back into the forest?
CHAPTER FIVE
It’s Battle Time!
Wow, that was close!”
Zeus jumped at the sound of Hades’s voice in his ear. Then Hades appeared before him, holding his helmet.
Hestia ran up and hugged him. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”
Apollo snapped his fingers. “That’s it!” he cried.
“That’s what?” asked Hera.
“What I couldn’t remember before,” he said. “Lake Stymphalia is special because of the Stymphalian birds!”
“ ‘Special’?” asked Demeter. She was leaning against a tree, with her hurt left ankle extended in front of her. “I could think of a better word. Like maybe ‘cursed’?”
“Cursed is right,” agreed Hera. “So what do we do, oh mighty leader?” Her piercing blue eyes peered right at Zeus.
Before he could answer, Poseidon piped up instead. “I know what we should do. We should retrace our steps and get far away from those killer canaries!”
“We can’t retreat,” Zeus argued. “We have to go to Lake Stymphalia to get the aegis.”
He gazed out past the edge of the trees toward the marsh. The birds circled the lake now, waiting. Suddenly they broke away from one another, darting in different directions across the sky. In seconds, hundreds of birds moved into formation, spelling out a word in the air: “CHICKENS.”
“Will you look at that? They’re not only dangerous; they’re insulting!” Poseidon cried. “We’ve got to get out of here, I tell you!”
“But what about Demeter? She’s hurt,” Hestia pointed out.
Demeter gingerly put her foot down. “I’m okay. See?” she said bravely, but she winced when she tried to take a step.
“I hate to say it, but I think Boltbrain is right,” said Hera, using one of her favorite nicknames for Zeus. “We’ve never backed down from a quest before.”
“Exactly!” Zeus exclaimed. “Pythia said we’d have to do battle to get the aegis. So maybe she meant we’d have to battle these birds. They might have it stashed in a nest or something.”
Poseidon shook his head. “How can we fight them all? Maybe Pythia can give us another quest instead.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Pythia? Pythia? You there?” But the oracle did not appear.
“She doesn’t come when you call her,” Hera pointed out. “She just shows up when she wants to.”
Apollo strummed on his lyre and began a new song.
“Down from the sky the weird birds did swoop.
Then they bombed us all with their poisonous poop.
As we once-brave heroes turned quickly and fled,
Some poop almost landed atop Hades’s head.”
“Hey!” Hades protested, sounding a little embarrassed. “That poop is deadly stuff! Did you see what it did to those plants? I’m not ready to live in the Underworld permanently, you know. And I bet none of the rest of you are either.”
Apollo put down his lyre and shrugged. “Still, if we retreat now, that is the song that will be sung about our quest.”
The seven Olympians looked at one another. They knew what Apollo meant. Nobody wanted to go down in history as a coward—Poseidon included.
“All right. Let’s stay and fight,” Poseidon said reluctantly. “But it won’t be easy. There’s a lot of them, and once we leave this forest, we won’t have any cover. They’ll poop all over us.”
“Not if we take them down first,” Zeus said. He nodded to the others. “We’ll need to combine our magical objects this time, to increase our power.”
“Do you think Demeter could use one of her seeds to make, like, a mega-weapon or something?” Hera asked. “Or a giant bird net?”
Demeter shook her head. “Oh no. I don’t have that many seeds left, and I’d rather use them to save villages than to fight birds.”
“But I can add my helmet to our magical power-up, right?” Hades asked.
“I have another idea for using the helmet,” Zeus said. He knelt down, picked up a stick, and used it to draw a plan on the dirt path. The others watched and listened, nodding silently. For once they were in agreement.
When Zeus was done, he stood up. “All right, everybody,” he said. “It’s battle time!”
He, Poseidon, and Hestia stepped out of the forest onto the marsh. Immediately the circling birds turned in midair and started to fly toward them.
Hades put on his Helm of Darkness and followed behind the
first three Olympians. “Here I go!” he called as he went invisible.
When the birds got closer, Zeus held out his thunderbolt. “Large,” he commanded. As Bolt grew to its full size, Poseidon held up his trident, and Hestia held up her flaming torch.
“Let’s do it!” Zeus yelled. The three Olympians touched their magical objects together. The weapons began to glow brightly with enormous power, sizzling with energy.
Boom! A bright, white light exploded from the top of the objects and cast a glow across the marsh. Frightened and confused, the birds broke formation for a few seconds.
“Olympians, attack!” Zeus shouted.
At Zeus’s signal, Apollo, Hera, and Demeter—still limping—came out of the forest and took their positions. The seven Olympians created a C-formation around the edge of the marsh—Apollo farthest left, then Hera, Zeus, Poseidon, Hestia, Demeter, and finally Hades, who stood closest to the birds yet was invisible to them.
Zeus thrust a fist into the air, and Hades immediately began to shoot arrows upward. Demeter joined in too.
Squawk! Squawk! Their arrows made contact! They knocked the birds off course—but couldn’t penetrate their metal bodies.
“Maybe these arrows will do the trick,” Hestia said, raising her supercharged torch. Its flames took the form of fiery arrows that zipped through the air. The first arrow hit a bird, exploding into a fireball and sending the bird spiraling into the water. Ka-pow!
“It worked!” Hestia cried happily as more mechanical birds exploded and began to rain down as bits of metal.
Sploosh! Next to her Poseidon was using his powered-up trident to shoot strong water blasts at the birds. Just one blast knocked at least a dozen birds at a time out of the sky.
“Now, Bolt. Zap!” Zeus yelled. Immediately a jagged yellow charge of electricity launched into the air. It hit one metal bird and fried it, and then bounced off and hit another. Electricity loves metal, and Bolt’s charge bounced from bird to bird, taking down one after another.
Farther down the edge of the marsh, Hera had abandoned her bow and was hurling rocks at a bird hovering over her head.
Whomp! A rock made contact and sent the bird reeling away.