by Lucy Coats
“You can examine him properly now. He’ll stay calm for a while. I’m Eunice, by the way, daughter of Nereus, and one of the Nereids.”
“I’m Demon,” he said, holding out a hand. “Official stable boy to the gods on Olympus, and son of Pan. Nice to meet you.”
Eunice giggled, holding out her own webbed hand. “We don’t do that down here—we wiggle ours instead. But it’s nice to meet you, too, Demon. And even nicer that you’re not one of my forty-nine stupid sisters. I’m so bored of their fancy jewelry-trying-on parties and silly gossip. I want to do something interesting. I wish I could have a proper job like you—I’d love to look after the Hippocamps. I’d be better at it than those stupid Tritons, anyway!”
“Well, I guess you can help me with this lot, then,” Demon said. “But we’d better hurry. I don’t want to find out what Poseidon will do if I don’t report back to him soon.” He turned to the silver box. “I need a cure for these Hippocamps, please.” The box began to flash blue as it flapped its fins and moved closer to the still-dopey beast. The see-through skin around the box bulged slightly, and a tube with a suction cup emerged from under the barely open lid, moving over the ragged, peeling scales with a slurping sound before sliding back inside.
“What IS that thing?” asked Eunice, her pale aquamarine eyes widening as she watched.
“Hephaestus made it for me. You know, the smith god? The one who makes all the magic armor for the Olympians? He’s really good at inventing stuff.” He was about to explain what the box did, when it started to flash and make whirring noises. “Here it goes. We’ll have a cure in a minute,” he said, crossing his fingers.
“Running preliminary diagnostics,” said the box, its tinny tones muffled in the water.
“What’s ‘preliminary diagnostics’?” Eunice asked.
“Take no notice,” said Demon. “It uses fancy terms to make it sound clever, but mostly because it likes to annoy me. ‘Diagnostics’ just means it’s looking for the right medicine.” The box spat a blue spark and made what sounded suspiciously like a snort.
“Hipponautikos akropyodermatitis detected in subject,” it said. Demon glared at it. “More commonly known as persistent itchy itch.”
“Itchy,” the Hippocamp whinnied drowsily. Then its eyes snapped open. “ITCHY!” it screamed. “ITCHYitchyITCHYitchyITCHY!” Then it flung itself backward, writhing and wriggling its scales against the pen walls. Immediately, its stablemates joined in, until the whole cave was filled with an echoing chorus of horrible Hippocamp screams and the harsh sound of scales being rubbed off against coral.
CHAPTER 3
A GODLY FIGHT
“STOP IT!” yelled Demon. But it was no good. The Hippocamps were in a dreadful frenzy of agonizing itchiness. Neither he nor Eunice could get anywhere near them to blow soothing bubbles up their noses—there were too many flailing fish tails and razor-sharp hooves flying about to even try. Demon fumbled inside the front of his tunic and pulled out his dad’s magic pipes, hoping against hope that they’d work underwater. Cramming them against his lips, he blew hard. A swirl of silver music curled out, quite visible against the churning turbulence around the terrified sea beasts. The music split into nine parts and shot forward, coiling around each Hippocamp’s muzzle like a halter. There was an immediate silence. Every one of the nine panicked creatures sighed deeply, closed its blue eyes, and fell asleep.
“Wow!” said Eunice. “That’s way cooler than my trick!”
Demon didn’t waste a moment.
“Quick, box,” he said, “I need a cure right now, before they all wake up again.” For once the box didn’t argue. The shiny membrane that covered it strained and swelled, and a large copper-colored pot of ointment erupted from its lid with a loud POP.
“Apply liberally to all areas,” said the box. Then, with a wheezing sound, it closed and shut down. Demon grabbed the pot and wrenched at the lid. It wouldn’t budge.
“Come on,” he said. “Come ON! Open, you Zeus-blasted thing!”
“Here,” said Eunice, swimming forward to help him. “I’ll hold, you twist.” Demon strained and grunted, and at last, with an earsplitting CLUNK, the top came off. As soon as the pot was open, they dug their hands into the gloopy yellow gunk inside and started to smear it over the Hippocamps’ scales.
“I really hope this works,” said Demon, “because I never want to hear those Hippocamps screaming again. It was AWFUL.”
“I know,” Eunice agreed, wiping the last of the ointment off her fingers. Just then, the first of the Hippocamps gave a sleepy whinny. Demon crossed his fingers and toes. Could the ointment have worked so soon? Maybe the Hippocamps would be hungry when they woke up. He looked around him, noticing several bales of silver seaweed piled up in one corner.
“Is that what they eat?” he asked, pointing. Eunice nodded. “Well, at least it’s not leftover ambrosia cake,” he said. “That would get disgustingly soggy down here.” As they swam around, filling each manger, Eunice shot a barrage of questions at him about the Stables of the Gods and Olympus. How many beasts did he have to look after? (A lot.) Why didn’t he like ambrosia cake? (Because it was boring eating it day after day, and it didn’t taste that nice!) What was the most difficult thing he’d ever had to cure? (Doris the Hydra’s cut-off heads.) He hadn’t talked so much in ages, and he found he liked being with someone his own age a lot.
“Eunice … ,” he started. But then all the Hippocamps woke up at once, plunged their noses into the full mangers, and started munching.
“Look!” she squealed. “They’re getting better!” Demon looked. Their scales were gleaming and healthy once more, with tiny new goldy-bronze ones starting to fill in the now-healed pink patches.
“Oh! Thank Zeus’s left armpit,” he said. Demon glanced down. “Oh, all right. Thank you, too, box.” The box glowed a pleased kind of blue and flapped its fins. “Now come on, we’d better go and find one of those Tritons to take us to Poseidon.”
Eunice rolled her eyes. “Stupid Tritons. I bet the Hippocamps got sick because those idiots weren’t looking after them properly. It wouldn’t have happened if I’d been in charge. Don’t worry—I’ll take you to the throne room. I’d better join my stupid sisters again, anyway, or I’ll be in trouble, and that’s where they’ll be.” Chattering on, she led the way upward through the hole in the cave ceiling. Demon followed, trying to copy the graceful, easy way she swam without much success. As he floundered at her heels, he sort of wished Poseidon had given him flippers as well as underwater breathing.
He was concentrating so hard on his swimming that he didn’t notice when Eunice stopped dead in front of him.
“OOF!” she gasped as he rammed right into her back, knocking her head over heels through an arched doorway and into a gleaming pool of air and light. Demon suddenly noticed that the water had gotten very hot around him just as Eunice seized him by the hand and dragged him behind a pillar.
“Shh!” she hissed fiercely. “Look!” Demon took a choking breath of damp air and looked about him with wide, awed eyes. He saw a glittering cavern with an endlessly high deep-blue arched ceiling that was decorated with sparkling diamonds to imitate the night sky above the ocean. The smooth walls glowed the exact shade of the inside of a pearly oyster shell. There was a small crowd of sea people and dolphins pressed up against the walls, all looking terrified. In the very center of the room was a high dais with a throne placed on it that seemed to be carved out of one giant sapphire. In front of the throne stood two gods, nose to nose and clearly very angry.
“Say that again!” roared Poseidon, his beard bristling as the water roiled and bubbled around his feet.
“My celestial horses can beat your slow old Hippocamps any day of the week,” yelled a purple-robed god who Demon knew must be Helios because of the golden crown of sun rays on his head. Beams of heat shot out from his eyes, turning the light in the cavern orangey-yellow and the water even hotter.
“Gentlegods, gentlegods,
there’s only one way to settle this,” said a voice, apparently coming from nowhere, a voice Demon knew very well. The god Hermes took off his invisibility hat and strolled out of thin air toward the furious gods of sea and sun. “You two must challenge each other to a race. I suggest once around the earth, one of you taking the sea route and the other going by sky. Invite all the gods and goddesses to watch—and the victor gives a feast.” The water calmed and became cooler.
“Very well,” said Poseidon, stalking back to his throne and sitting down. “Consider the challenge given, Sun Boy.”
“Done,” said Helios. “I’ll meet you seven days from now, Father of Fishiness. Prepare to lose that golden trident of yours!” With that, he let out a blast of blinding light and disappeared.
“Wretched jumped-up Titan,” muttered Poseidon, his eyebrows twitching into a fierce frown. “Always trying to pick a fight.” The water in the throne room darkened and began to churn. Several sea nymphs and mermaids squeaked and fled.
“Come on, dear uncle,” said Hermes soothingly. “I’ve seen those Hippocamps of yours. They’re fast, and if you rest them well, they should beat Helios easily. Don’t forget, those celestial horses of his will be pulling the sun behind them—they won’t exactly be fresh.”
“Hmm,” said Poseidon. “Well, my Hippocamps aren’t exactly in top form, either. At least they weren’t. Maybe Zeus’s stable boy has managed to cure them. Where is the wretched brat, anyway? He should have reported in by now.” Eunice gave Demon a little shove.
“Go on,” she whispered. “Tell him the good news. It might put him in a better temper.” Demon swam clumsily forward.
“Er, I’m here, Your Opulent Oceanosity,” he said as Hermes winked at him encouragingly. “The Hippocamps are doing well. Their scales are growing back nicely, and they’re eating like … well … horses.”
Poseidon scowled at him. “They’d better be fine,” he growled, “or I’ll have you on your knees scrubbing salt off of seaweed for the next hundred years. Consider yourself assigned to the Stables of the Ocean till further notice. I want my Hippocamps in tip-top condition for the race. You’re looking after them full-time till then.”
Demon’s heart gave a horrible blip and sank right down to his toes. What sort of state would his own Stables be in after a whole week? He’d sworn to the griffin that he’d be back in a couple of days—he didn’t trust it and the Nemean Lion to cope for any longer than that, anyway. What WAS he going to do? Giving Hermes a look of complete desperation, he bowed to Poseidon and stammered out the only thing he thought might stop the god from turning him into a coral reef.
“Y-yes, Y-your M-mighty G-godnificence, I’ll get down there and see to it at once.”
CHAPTER 4
HERMES TO THE RESCUE
“Please, Hermes, please,” Demon begged the messenger god silently as he swam slowly back toward where he’d left Eunice. “I really, really need to talk to you.” But Hermes stayed firmly in the middle of the throne room, chatting away with Poseidon in his usual lighthearted manner. The water was calm and cool again, and he could hear chattering voices ahead of him and squeals of girlish laughter.
“Ooh! Here he is!”
“Isn’t he cute?”
“Why don’t you introduce us to your boyfriend, Eunice?”
Suddenly he was surrounded by a whole gaggle of Nereid girls, each dressed in a different-colored floaty robe. It was like being in the middle of a whole garden of sea flowers. Demon felt himself blushing as Eunice took him firmly by the arm.
“Girls, this is Demon. Demon, these are my sisters, Maira, Neso, Erato, Halia …” She stopped. “Oh, never mind. You’ll never remember all forty-nine of them, and they’re too silly to bother with, anyway.” She pulled him out of the circle of admiring glances and giggles, and turned to face them. “Now go away. I’ve got to show Demon the way back to the stables.” Pouting, the pack of girls swam away.
One of them turned back, shaking her finger at Eunice. “Just wait till I tell Amphitrite about you, Eunice. She’ll be cross if you’re not there to brush her hair at bedtime. You’re meant to be nymph-in-waiting to the queen, not helping some stupid stable boy.”
“I don’t care, Thetis,” said Eunice defiantly. “You know I like being with sea beasts more than brushing royal hair. And he’s not stupid. Come on, Demon, let’s go.” By this time, Demon’s face was redder than a ripe cherry. Why did girls always have to be so giggly and weird? Why couldn’t they just act normal? He wrenched his arm out of Eunice’s grip.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, horribly embarrassed. “You don’t need to come. I can manage to find my own way.” Eunice’s face fell.
“Oh. All right, then. I just thought …” She looked so downcast that Demon immediately felt guilty.
“I didn’t mean …”
“I only … ,” they said together.
“You go first,” said Eunice, still looking upset.
Demon could see he needed to explain.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he said. “It’s just … your sisters … Queen Amphitrite … I don’t want to get you in trouble …” He was suddenly not sure what to say.
“Really? Is that all? Oh, never mind them. I told you they were silly, remember? And Queen Amphitrite will let me off, if I explain.” Her face turned a deeper green, and Demon realized she was blushing, too. “I-I-I thought it might be because you didn’t like me. My sisters always say I’m much too bossy for my own good, but I was only trying to help. I’d really like to be friends with you, if you’ll let me.” Demon breathed a sigh of relief. “Friends” was just fine by him, and he could definitely use all the help he could get.
“Friends,” he agreed, holding out his hand and waggling it at her. “Is this how you do it?”
Eunice laughed. “Pretty much,” she said, flapping her webbed one in return.
The Hippocamps had eaten all their silver seaweed by the time their new friends got down to the Stables of the Ocean. Just then, Demon heard a loud whistle, and Hermes dropped through the hole in the ceiling.
“Fancy seeing you here, stable boy,” said the god, his usual mischievous grin spread all over his face. “Did a little fishy whisper that you might be needing me? Are you in trouble AGAIN?”
“Yes,” said Demon, too relieved to see him to bother with politeness. “Or I will be if I leave the Stables of the Gods with Griffin and Lion in charge for too much longer—and Poseidon wants me to stay here for a whole week. You know what happened the last time.”
“I do, indeed. And we can’t have the whole of Olympus smelling of poo again, or the goddesses will be after you.” Hermes tapped one long fingernail against his very white teeth, clearly thinking. “Tell you what. I have a young man called Autolykos who’s in a bit of trouble at the moment over some cattle he stole. He’s not bad with beasts, and he owes me a favor or two. I expect he’d look after the Stables for a week. He’s a cunning little fellow.”
Demon tried to picture a clever thief looking after the giant scorpion, and failed miserably. But what other choice did he have? “Thank you, Hermes,” he said gratefully. Then he had an awful thought. What if this Autolykos got badly bitten or even stung by the giant scorpion? He’d need protection. Demon put a hand to his neck and unfastened his magical snake necklace. “Maybe I’d better lend him Offy and Yukus. Otherwise he might get killed. Some of my beasts aren’t very friendly, you know. And what about Hephaestus’s box?”
“No, no,” said Hermes. “You keep all that. I’ll make sure he’s safe, don’t worry. You just get on with looking after these fine beasties. I’ve got places to be, people to see. Bye for now!” With a wave of his hand, the god put on his invisibility hat and vanished.
“Was that really Hermes?” Eunice whispered. “Only … only he doesn’t seem like a g—I mean …” Her voice stuttered to a halt, but Demon knew exactly what she’d been trying to say.
“Doesn’t seem like a god?” he asked. She nodded. “Well
, no, he doesn’t. At least not like some of the other ones I’ve met. I’m always scared they’re going to turn me into little piles of ash—apart from Heffy and Hestia—but Hermes is really ni—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Eunice, cowering with fear, had darted into a cleft in the rock. A second later he saw why. With a rush of dark water, Poseidon swam into the cave. Demon fell to his knees beside the silver box.
“H-h-hello, Your Serene Saltiness,” he said. Poseidon gestured impatiently.
“Get up, get up. All this wretched bowing and scraping drives me mad. Now, let me see how my lovely Hippocamps are doing.” Crooning in a most un-king-like way, he went from stall to stall, patting noses and stroking spiky manes. “Well, well. They seem quite recovered.” He clapped Demon on the shoulder, sending him shooting backward through the water. “Good job, stable boy. You deserve a reward. Now, let’s harness them up and put them through their paces. I’ll show you why I’m going to win this race.”
Poseidon showed Demon where his racing chariot was, and how to harness the nine Hippocamps to it. Meanwhile, Eunice remained huddled in her rocky hideaway, putting a green finger to her lips. Demon tried not to look at her, not wanting to give her away, as he and the sea god fastened buckles and threaded straps together. Poseidon’s help was a big surprise. Hades had made Demon do all the hard work of harnessing the earth dragons, but the king of the sea seemed to like doing it himself. Finally, the chariot was ready.
“In you get,” said the sea god, pointing to the seat beside him. Demon climbed in rather nervously. The last chariot he’d been in was Hera’s, and that hadn’t been a good experience at all. This one was a bit different. It was made in the shape of a long streamlined silver shell, and had two low bucket seats lined with cushions of soft, spongy red sea moss. Poseidon was strapping himself into one with two thick strands of green ribbon kelp, which passed around his shoulders and clipped with two large silver crabs to a third that went between his legs. “Buckle up, stable boy,” he barked. “And prepare for the ride of your life.”