by Maz Evans
‘Oh, no, you can’t go!’ trilled Patricia. ‘We must have some lunch. What are you going to cook for me?’
‘Madam – mark my words,’ said Zeus, more menacingly than Elliot had ever heard him speak before. ‘If it is the very last thing I do, I will see you pay for this. And trust me – I have all the time in the world.’
‘Good,’ said Patricia. ‘You’re going to need it. Home Farm is mine. Elliot is mine. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it.’
‘We have to get to the hospital!’ shouted Elliot, starting back up the path.
‘You’ll keep,’ said Zeus, before turning and running after Elliot.
‘You can run, my little muffin, but you can’t hide,’ Patricia called after Elliot. ‘You’re mine now. And I’m going to make sure you get everything you deserve.’
And with Patricia’s triumphant laughter burning his ears, Elliot raced off to save his mum.
29. Council of War
‘This has to stop! NOW!’
Virgo’s words echoed around the council chamber like a ricocheting bullet.
‘Whatever are you bellyaching about, child?’ roared Taurus. ‘Is this about the dishwasher-emptying rota again? We’ve told you before, as the youngest Councillor, it’s only right you do it four times more often than your senior colleagues . . .’
‘The Titans!’ Virgo panted. ‘Cole’s Law! The detentions! All of it! You have to stop it!’
The Councillors peered intently at Virgo. Excellent. They were taking her concerns seriously.
The chamber filled with peals of laughter. Maybe not.
‘Stop it?’ said Pisces. ‘Why on Elysium would we stop it? Cole’s Law couldn’t have been more successful! All the dangerous immortals are contained. The threat to our security is all but neutralized. And our opinion ratings have never been higher.’
He threw a graph towards Virgo.
‘Zero?’ read Virgo.
‘I know – marvellous, isn’t it!’ bleated Aries. ‘With all the Elementals in Tartarus, there’s no one to participate in the opinion polls. We’ve never been so popular! And just look at this report in the Daily Argus. Sums it all up perfectly, I think.’
Virgo took the paper and read it aloud.
COUNCIL MATTERS
By Pliny, Political Editor
The new world is safer! A triumph we think
Those rogue Elementals locked up in the clink
Now all decent beings can go through their day
Safe in the knowledge the duds are at bay
All hail the Council! A wonderful measure
Protecting the freedoms we rightfully treasure
We’d happily list how the Council has blessed us
But two great big Titans have come to arrest us . . .
[NB Due to staffing shortages, the next edition of the Daily Argus may be delayed. For ever.]
Virgo felt a new sensation bubble up inside her. It was sort of . . . hot – burning hot, even – and it was rapidly spreading from the pit of her stomach, up through her chest and surging into her mouth as if it were volcanic lava.
‘NO!’ she shouted, throwing the newspaper on the floor and stamping her foot.
The Councillors stopped dead and stared at her in disbelief. No laughing this time. She would remember this tactic for other confrontations. It was clearly very effective.
‘Whatever do you mean, “no”?’ said Sagittarius. ‘No, what?’
‘Just no!’ said Virgo, stamping her foot again. This really did feel most optimal. ‘No to the injustice! No to the imprisonment! No to the . . . just NO!’
‘But you voted,’ said Aquarius.
‘Then I want to unvote!’ cried Virgo. ‘This isn’t right!’
‘Don’t be absurd,’ said Cancer. ‘You can’t unvote! This is the law!’
‘Then the law is STUPID!’ yelled Virgo. ‘And if you won’t change it, I need to find someone who will!’
The Councillors drew breath as one.
‘Are you threatening us?’ whispered Pisces.
‘Not threatening,’ said Virgo, searching for the optimal phrasing. ‘Just . . . informing you that I will take undesirable actions if you don’t do as I ask. I know, for instance, that Zeus is highly displeased . . .’
‘What is the meaning of this?’ roared Taurus. ‘I don’t understand!’
‘That’s just it!’ cried Virgo. ‘You don’t understand! You don’t understand anything! You don’t understand life on Earth! You live up here on your cloud and you have no idea what it’s really like! So life on Earth is bizarre. Some individuals are unkind, others are unhygienic – and, yes, maybe some are dangerous. There are strange habits and customs, many I don’t understand. Why must one pledge allegiance to a football team, even when it is sub-optimal? Why are all the worst insults prefaced by “with all due respect”? And what is the point of morris dancing? Mortals disagree about everything – and some disagreements are so bad they hurt each other. But my observations tell me that most individuals on Earth want to be happy. They want other people to be happy. They might not talk to each other on the train, but when something goes wrong they fall over themselves to give money, time, even their own blood, to help. They might never meet their next-door neighbour, but when they hear of strangers in trouble somewhere else in the world, they organize walks, runs or bathe in baked beans to help. There are so many good, kind mortals – far more than bad. They love. They laugh. They like it there. Earth is thoroughly sub-optimal. And yet, the more time I spend there, I have come to believe that it is . . . sort of . . . strangely . . . perfect.’
She took a deep breath. Where had that come from?
The Council was dumbstruck.
‘I see,’ said Taurus slowly. ‘Now I think we all understand.’
Virgo exhaled slowly and silently congratulated herself. Reason would always win the day. She was, after all, entirely right. Again.
‘So what do we do?’ she said eventually.
‘Oh, I think we’re all agreed,’ said Taurus, looking around at his colleagues for support. They nodded gravely.
‘Excellent,’ said Virgo. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Good,’ said Taurus, rising slowly to his feet. A huge shadow fell over Virgo. She didn’t remember Taurus being that tall.
‘Virgo, Councillor of the Zodiac and former Guardian of the Stationery Cupboard,’ he began. ‘It is the finding of this Council that you pose a clear and present threat to the security of our world.’
‘That’s an excellent . . . What?!’ Virgo cried. ‘I’m sorry, I must have misheard you, I have this beetle in my brain . . .’
‘At these times of heightened security, we cannot take any risks with public safety,’ Taurus continued.
‘Wait – you can’t think that I . . . that I would ever . . . You’re not seriously suggesting . . .’ Virgo floundered as the shadow spread across the chamber.
‘Therefore, it is with a heavy heart, that under section 156dolphinThursday7a of Cole’s Law, you will be detained in Tartarus until further notice.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ cried Virgo, feeling her eyes starting to sting. ‘I am completely—’
A huge net fell over her head.
‘What are you . . . ?’
Virgo turned around and found herself staring up at the gigantic forms of the Titans.
‘Gotcha,’ said The Ram. ‘Told you I’d teach you some manners.’
‘No! Let me out!’ Virgo screamed, pulling at the mesh of the net. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong!’
‘Yet,’ said Pisces. ‘Virgo – this is for your own good. You will be released as soon as the present threat is over. Although who knows when that might be?’
Virgo tugged and tore at the net, but it was no good. She was trapped.
‘And I believe that concludes your contract with us,’ said Taurus to the Titans. ‘As per the terms of our agreement, you may return to Tartarus, where you will be allowed to co-mingle with your fellow prisoners and e
njoy greater privileges than in your previous confinement. We thank you for your service and wish you well. Goodbye.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ said The Ram, pointing to the golden band around his ankle.
‘Ah, yes – of course,’ said Cancer, jangling a set of keys. ‘Stay still.’
She unlocked first The Ram’s, then The Brain’s golden fetters.
The moment the ankle bands were taken off the Titans, a strange transformation began. Virgo watched in terrified silence – they had been big before, but as soon as they were released they began to grow . . . bigger. The muscles that had bulged from their arms strained and inflated before her eyes. And their eyes . . . their eyes turned a deep shade of blood red.
‘Th-th-there you go,’ stammered Cancer, cowering in their shadow. ‘You are free to leave. Sort of.’
‘Mind how you go,’ gulped Taurus. He returned to his seat and shuffled his paperwork.
The Titans didn’t move.
‘Uh . . . as I said, the Council thanks you for your service and wishes you well. You can use the elevator. And kindly take Ms Virgo with you.’
Virgo looked at the Titans. They were still motionless.
‘Is there something else?’ said Cancer eventually.
‘No,’ said The Ram.
‘Well, then . . . off you go,’ said Aries. ‘Safe trip.’
Once again, the Titans stayed exactly where they were.
‘I’m sorry – have we not made ourselves clear?’ said Aquarius. ‘What are you waiting for?’
‘Further instructions,’ said The Ram.
‘There are none,’ said Pisces. ‘Your work here is done. Now please leave.’
‘OK, thanks,’ said The Brain, but his brother grabbed his arm.
‘Sorry, fish-face,’ said The Ram. ‘We don’t answer to you.’
‘Oh, yes you do,’ snorted Taurus, rising from his seat in a fury. ‘We were quite clear – you do this for us and we will downgrade your sentence. If you’re not very careful, you will be returned to solitary confinement, where you belong!’
‘I don’t think so,’ said The Ram, flexing his enormous biceps. ‘You see – we’ve had a better offer.’
‘A better – what on Earth are you talking about?’ roared Taurus. ‘You answer to us.’
‘Not any more,’ said The Ram, as the elevator bell pinged through the chamber. ‘We’ve got a new boss now.’
‘A new boss!’ Taurus raged. ‘Whoever would have the presumption . . .’
‘Hello, everyone,’ drawled a languid voice from the lift. ‘Long time.’
Bound by her net, Virgo was unable to see the new arrival. But the voice was painfully familiar.
‘Thanatos!’ said the Council as one.
The Daemon of Death stalked to the centre of the chamber and bowed slightly.
‘Titans – arrest that Daemon immediately!’ Taurus commanded.
The Titans stomped towards Thanatos. But when they reached him, they merely took their places either side of him and crossed their almighty arms.
‘Oh, how embarrassing,’ chuckled Thanatos. ‘Didn’t you get the memo? The Titans work for me now.’
‘No, they do not!’ spluttered Pisces. ‘We had a deal!’
‘Not really,’ said Thanatos. ‘You see, I spoke to the Titans too. But my terms were better. You merely offered to upgrade their imprisonment. I offered them their freedom.’
‘Er – I think you’ve rather forgotten something, Thanatos!’ said Taurus. ‘We’re in charge around here! And you’re a wanted fugitive!’
‘Ah, yes – thank you so much for reminding me!’ smiled Thanatos. ‘You’re quite right, of course. We can’t have both of us trying to run the show now, can we?’
‘Precisely,’ said Taurus. ‘Imprisonment is the only option.’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ said Thanatos. ‘Titans?’
‘Yes, boss?’ said The Ram.
‘Seize the Councillors.’
‘Our pleasure,’ said the Titans together, and advanced on the Councillors with their nets.
‘What is the meaning – what do you think you’re doing?’ roared Taurus. ‘You have no authority here!’
‘Oh, I think you’ll find I do,’ said Thanatos, pulling the Sacred Code from the shelf. ‘You wrote the amendment here yourself: Any immortal posing a threat to security can be detained in Tartarus indefinitely without trial. It doesn’t say by whom . . .’
‘You can’t do this!’ said Pisces. ‘We’ve done nothing wrong! We’re here to protect the immortal community.’
‘Tsk,’ whispered Thanatos. ‘I’ve got several thousand Elementals who don’t entirely agree. They’re rather miffed with you, I’m afraid.’
‘You can’t put us down there with them!’ said Aquarius.
‘You’re quite right – and I have no intention of doing any such thing,’ said Thanatos. ‘As tremendous good fortune would have it, now that the Titans have been released, a solitary confinement facility has just become vacant in the deepest depths of Tartarus. I think you’ll find it very cosy.’
The Titans caught the Councillors in their nets and dumped them in the lift.
‘The Gods won’t let this happen,’ Virgo said, struggling in her net. ‘We’ve got three Chaos Stones. They’ll come for you.’
‘I’m counting on it,’ said Thanatos. ‘In fact, I anticipate a visit from your friend Elliot any time now. Then I will have everything I need.’
‘You’ll never take the Chaos Stones from him!’ declared Virgo.
‘Oh, I won’t have to,’ said Thanatos, plucking a grape from the table. ‘Elliot Hooper is going to hand them to me himself. And then your precious Gods will finally get precisely what they deserve.’
Sweeping the Council’s paperwork off the golden table, Thanatos climbed up and stood in the centre.
‘Hear me now!’ he proclaimed, his voice reverberating around the glass pyramid. ‘I, Thanatos, Daemon of Death, King of the Daemons, declare war on the Olympians! I will not cease to fight until their tyranny is overthrown. I, your rightful ruler, take command of the Earth and everyone in it. This is my solemn vow. And I dare anyone to stop me!’
Virgo yelled at him from the elevator: ‘They’ll stop you! Elliot and the Gods – they will defeat you!’
‘I’ll enjoy watching them try,’ smiled Thanatos. ‘Goodbye, young Virgo. I doubt we’ll be seeing each other again.’
And with that, the elevator doors slammed shut and Virgo felt herself plummet through the endless darkness to Tartarus.
30. Free at Last
Josie Hooper was ready. For too long she had been trapped within her own body. She needed to be free. And it was nearly time. She could feel it.
But before she could go anywhere, she needed to know that her Elly was safe.
She tried to smile at the sisters. They had refused to leave her, even when the doctors and nurses tried to force them from the bedside.
‘If you lay a single finger on me, no medicine in the world will save you!’ the blonde one had cried. Josie liked this girl so very much. She reminded her a great deal of herself.
Josie looked around the strange white room again, trying to find something – anything – that she recognized. There was a bed and a bathroom. That was all. It wasn’t her home. The only thing that she knew was hers was the patchwork quilt. She remembered stitching it with her mother-inlaw when she was getting married.
‘This’ll keep you safe and warm,’ Audrey had said as they sat and sewed for hours. And Audrey was right. Even in this strange place, Josie felt safe and warm beneath it.
The dark-haired sister held her hand and started to sob softly.
‘We will take care of him,’ she said. ‘I swear it. We will be his family.’
Josie could no longer speak, but she hoped that her eyes conveyed her thanks. These were good people. They loved her Elly. He’d be safe with them.
She felt herself start to float away again. No. Josie f
ought back. She needed to stay. She needed to see her boy. But it was hard, so hard not to go . . .
‘Hush, little baby, don’t you cry,’ came a voice, pure and clear. It was the blonde sister. ‘Mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby.’
Josie didn’t know if it reached her lips, but she smiled inside. She loved this song. It always helped her to sleep well.
The dark-haired sister joined in harmony:
‘Hush, little baby, don’t say a word.
Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird don’t sing,
Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.’
The music rang through Josie and her soul joined in. She had to go. It was her time. She began to float, leaving the shackles of her body behind . . .
‘Mum!’
The voice hit Josie like a tidal wave. It was him. It was her boy.
‘Mum!’
She felt Elliot throw his arms around her. He was safe.
Josie smiled with peaceful relief. Now she could take her leave.
‘Mum – you have to . . .’
But Josie had already begun her journey. As she let herself float away, her soul sang out to her beloved little boy:
‘So hush, little baby, don’t you cry.
Daddy still loves you and so do I.’
And with a calm, smiling breath, Josie Hooper was finally free.
31. Broken
Elliot walked numbly out of the hospital, past Hypnos quietly waiting outside. Words and phrases washed around him – ‘nothing you could have done’, ‘incurable’, ‘only a matter of time’. He didn’t know who said them and he didn’t care.
Mum was gone.
The only voice he could hear was the one in his one head. That one was loud and clear: ‘You failed.’
‘Come on, Elly – let’s go,’ said Aphrodite, her tear-stained face smiling into his. ‘We’re going home.’
‘Home?’ he said in a daze. ‘I don’t have a home.’
‘You have ours,’ said Zeus, not taking his eyes from Elliot. ‘Mount Olympus. Hephaestus will be waiting for us.’
Elliot knew the Gods were waiting for a response. He had nothing. He couldn’t imagine ever feeling anything ever again.