by Joan Holub
Athena was already in the lunch line when she spotted Artemis holding a full tray and heading toward the goddessgirls’ usual table. Wagging their tails, her dogs dodged between students to follow her.
“Here you go.” The eight-armed lunch lady was ladling up bowls of celestial soup with four of her hands and handing them out with her other four hands. Thanking her, Athena took the bowl she was offered and grabbed a few crackers, too. As she went to sit with Artemis, she scanned the room.
“Have you seen Persephone?” she asked as she sat down.
Artemis blew on a spoonful of soup. “Nuh-uh. She probably ate earlier.”
“Yeah, probably,” Athena agreed. “Do you think Aphrodite’s eaten already too? I saw her going outside just now.”
Artemis shrugged. “Must have.” Changing the subject, she asked, “So do you think Heracles and the rest of the wrestling team will make it back in time for the Games tomorrow?”
“Fingers crossed.” Athena took his letterscroll from her pocket and handed it to Artemis. She’d brought it, wanting to get her friends’ takes on what the surprise Hercules had mentioned could be.
When she reached the bottom of the letter, Artemis grinned and raised an eyebrow. “X-O-X-O?”
Athena felt her cheeks go warm. “What do you think the guys are planning?” she asked to cover her embarrassment. “A party for the girls?”
“Could be,” Artemis said distractedly. Nodding toward the cafeteria door beyond Athena, she added, “Hey, look. There’s that boy again—the one we saw chasing Pegasus on our way to the track this morning. What was his name again? Bellboy? Bellbottom?”
“Bellerophon,” Athena said, without turning around.
“Well, don’t look now,” said Artemis. “But he’s coming this way.”
Of course, Athena immediately looked over. Catching her eye, Bellerophon smiled and waved. “You’re Athena, right?” he asked her when he reached their table. “Zeus’s daughter?”
Athena nodded.
“Can we talk?” he asked. Flicking Artemis a quick glance, he added, “Alone?”
Artemis shrugged and clanked her spoon into her empty bowl. “I need to get going anyway. I’ve got practice. Plus, there’s a shipment I need to unpack before tomorrow and some other stuff to check on too.”
Picking up her tray, she stood. Her dogs, who’d been lying under the table, scrambled to their feet to follow her. As Athena watched her friend go, she wondered if she should’ve offered to help out. But Artemis didn’t seem to want any help.
Hearing a chair scrape the floor, she looked over to see Bellerophon sitting at her table. “Sorry to bug you,” he began, “but I need a favor.”
Athena stiffened. “A favor?” she asked cautiously. Because she was Zeus’s daughter, some people figured she had an “in” with him. Usually the favors they wanted involved her asking him to do something for them.
Bellerophon hesitated. Maybe he sensed her sudden coolness toward him. “It’s about Pegasus.”
“Um-hm?” said Athena, taking another spoonful of soup. Having seen him with the winged horse, she had a feeling she knew what was coming.
He looked around the cafeteria as if to make sure no one was listening. Then he leaned forward and whispered, “I want to ride him.”
“Wish I could help,” she told him. “But you’ll have to ask my dad. Pegasus belongs to him.”
Bellerophon frowned. “But—you are supposed to help me.”
“Says who?” she asked, cocking her head.
“Says my dream!” he blurted out. “You were in it. You gave me the golden bridle!”
Dream? Golden bridle? Athena stared at him with shocked recognition. So it wasn’t Heracles she’d seen in that strange dream she’d had when she’d fallen asleep at her desk yesterday. It was this boy!
A dream wasn’t anything to be taken lightly—especially since they’d apparently shared the same one. If she’d appeared in this boy’s dream and made a promise to help him—it meant something!
Athena tapped her spoon lightly on her bowl, thinking. “Tell you what. How about if I introduce you to my dad? Then you can ask him if it’s okay to ride Pegasus.”
Bellerophon looked a little nervous at the idea, which was no surprise. Almost everyone, even Athena herself, found Zeus intimidating. His height, his muscles, his electric touch, and his status as King of the Gods made sure of that.
“Okay,” Bellerophon agreed finally.
Athena rose from the table and picked up her tray. “C’mon,” she said. After placing her tray in the tray return, she led the boy to the front office.
Nine-headed Ms. Hydra, Zeus’s administrative assistant, was eating her lunch at the counter there when they entered. Her orange head swiveled toward them, but her purple head continued to gulp down the yambrosia she was spooning up. The rest of her heads were keeping tabs on her office work.
“If you’re here to see Principal Zeus, you’ll have to come back later,” her orange head told them. “He’s in a meeting.”
Athena peered over at Ms. Hydra’s pink head, a question in her eyes. “With the king of Lycia,” the pink head mouthed silently. Pinky, as students called this head, was almost as gossipy as Pheme, at least when it came to Zeus news.
Suddenly there was a terrible crash from Zeus’s inner office. His loud voice boomed through the closed door. “Thunderation! You say it may be coming this way?”
All eighteen of Ms. Hydra’s eyes went wide at once. “Oh! This sounds bad. Could mean disaster for MOA!” her gray head wailed. This one was her worrywart head.
Trouble? What was she talking about? Athena wondered. And what was headed this way? But before she could ask, another huge BOOM came from Zeus’s office. Her dad must be throwing things again. He only did that when he was upset. Very upset.
“Maybe now’s not a good time,” Bellerophon whispered.
Athena nodded. “Probably not. Let’s go.”
As the two of them went into the main hall, a couple of students pushed in through the bronze doors up ahead. Athena heard a loud whinny from outside. Instantly Bellerophon’s face lit up. “Pegasus!” He raced outside.
Athena quickly followed, watching as Bellerophon zoomed down the granite steps that led to the courtyard. Taking Pegasus by surprise, he leaped onto the horse’s back and wrapped his arms around its neck.
Athena gasped, half-expecting Pegasus to shake the boy off. Instead, the winged horse only stood calmly, as if waiting for something more to happen. Slowly and purposefully, it turned its head and gazed directly at her!
This was exactly what had happened in her dream, she realized. An urge came over her to complete the dream for real now. Because surely this must mean that she was destined to grant Bellerophon’s wish. Forgetting all about asking Zeus, Athena swept her arm through the air in an arc, chanting:
Behold! Behold!
A bridle of gold.
Let it gentle the ride.
Of the horseman—uh, horseboy—astride.
As the last word of her chant died away, a shiny golden bridle magically appeared. It settled over the top of Pegasus’s head. Bellerophon glanced over, sending Athena a grateful smile. Then he took off, galloping into the air. “Yahoooo!” His shout of joy startled several students crossing the courtyard.
“When will you be back!” Athena remembered to call out. But he didn’t seem to hear. As horse and rider sailed away, the king of Lycia himself came stomping down the granite stairs past her. Without a word, he leaped into his chariot and drove off.
Uh-oh! Now that his visitor had gone, what if Zeus left his office and came looking for Pegasus? When he was in a stormy mood, there was nothing he liked better than to go sky-riding and toss around his thunderbolts.
Athena ran to the olive grove at the far side of the courtyard just in case Zeus did come out. There, she nervously awaited Bellerophon’s return—hoping she wasn’t going to find herself in big trouble for impulsively granting his wish.
> 13
Artemis
Friday, mid-afternoon.
ARTEMIS WAS AT THE ARCHERY RANGE, training her three silver arrows to fly straight and true, when she heard a whinny. It was followed by the loud whoosh of wings directly overhead. As she released an arrow, she took her eye off the target for half a second to look up.
There in the sky she was astonished to see Pegasus with a rider on his back who clearly wasn’t Zeus. It looked like that kid, Bellybutton—or whatever his name was—from lunch. How had he gotten Pegasus to give him a ride? she wondered as horse and boy disappeared into the distance.
“Artemis!” Apollo’s sharp call interrupted her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder at him and Actaeon. “You’re not focusing!” her brother said sternly. Gazing toward the target, she saw what he meant. She’d not only missed the bull’s-eye, she’d missed the entire target! Actaeon went to retrieve her arrow.
“Sorry,” she said. Apollo was right. She couldn’t afford to be sloppy. Now she’d have to train that arrow to fly right all over again.
It was just so hard to concentrate on practicing right now. She had so much else to do, and it wasn’t getting done. For one thing, the targets here on the range were too holey from arrow tip punctures. She needed to unpack the boxes of new targets to replace them. But she also needed to get to bed early tonight. Because the Girl Games were tomorrow!
Actaeon ran up to her with the arrow she’d shot. His hand brushed hers as he gave it to her.
“Thanks.” She felt herself smile in a goo-goo way at him. She couldn’t help it! But she hoped Apollo hadn’t noticed. She didn’t want him to start teasing her right in front of her crush.
“No problem,” said Actaeon. Then he looked over at Apollo. “That’s enough practice. I think we could all use a break.”
“Yeah,” Artemis agreed. “There are some things I need to do.”
Apollo rolled his eyes. “Oh, all right.” He whistled to her dogs, who’d been napping in the shade under the stands. “I’ll take them for a run, then drop them by your room,” he offered.
“That would be so great,” said Artemis, relieved. As grouchy as Apollo had been lately, she knew it was only because he wanted her to do well in the Games. She just wasn’t sure if it was for her sake or his. Maybe both. She was too tired to figure it out.
Feeling Actaeon’s gaze on her, she looked up into his concerned gray eyes. “You look stressed out. Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?” he asked.
Maybe a hug? Artemis thought. Honestly, she felt overwhelmed and really could use a hug right now. But she’d rather die from a scorpion sting than ask!
Actaeon was staring at her kind of weirdly now, like they were the only two people on the entire range. Had he guessed her thoughts? “Maybe—” he started to say.
Apollo butted in. “Hey, Actaeon, don’t forget. We have that . . . thing . . . to do.”
“Thing?” Actaeon glanced at Apollo, then seemed to remember. “Oh, yeah. That thing.”
His eyes held secrets when he looked at Artemis again. “But I can skip it,” he told her. “I mean, if you need help.”
He was so sweet to offer. She wanted to tell him the truth. That she really could use help unpacking the shipment Hermes had delivered yesterday afternoon. But she didn’t want him to know she wasn’t as on top of things as she should be. Besides, it wasn’t fair to mess up Actaeon’s plans just because she’d let her own stuff get out of control.
“No, that’s okay.” She stepped back. If she wasn’t careful, she might accidentally give herself away. If he was just being friendly, how embarrassing would it be if she’d actually asked for a hug? Ye gods! Apollo would have teased her to death over that. She was glad neither boy could read her mind.
Splitting off from them, Artemis started toward the gym. On the way, she paused to watch Skadi aim and release an arrow. Zzzing! Bull’s-eye. It confirmed her belief that Skadi and the Amazons would be her biggest competition in tomorrow’s contest.
Artemis cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Awesome shot!”
The Norse goddessgirl’s long blond hair fluttered as she turned her way. “Thanks!” she called back. As the girl drew another arrow from her quiver, Artemis moved off.
The Egyptian and Amazon girls were hanging around the edge of the range, watching the other archers. Satet and Neith were sitting cross-legged on the grass and said hi to Artemis as she passed. “Where you off to?” asked Satet. She was wearing her red crown again.
“To the gym,” Artemis told her. “Got some supplies to unpack.”
“Need help?” Satet asked.
“Yeah, we’re done practicing for now,” added Neith. She picked up her antelope-horn crown from her lap and put it on as she stood.
Satet rose too and dusted the grass off her skirt. Glancing at Penthe and Hippolyta, who were standing nearby, she said, “You’ll help too, right?”
The two Amazon girls gave her a startled look. It was probably the last thing they wanted to do. But before they could come up with any excuses, Satet turned back to Artemis. “See? Plenty of help here.”
Artemis hesitated. These girls were guests. They shouldn’t have to help. But she had to admit, she could sure use some. Even the Amazons’ reluctant help would be better than nothing!
Besides, Satet had offered to help once before. For all she knew, it might be rude to turn down such an offer in Egyptian culture. Just in case, Artemis said, “I’d love some help. Thanks.”
“No problem. Lead on,” said Satet. She and Neith headed off with Artemis to the gym. Sighing, the two Amazon girls followed.
Just as they got there, Principal Zeus and Professor Ladon, who taught Beast-ology at MOA, came around the corner from the front of the gym. They were so deep in conversation, they didn’t seem to notice the girls standing by the side doors. Zeus looked to be in a thunderous mood.
Artemis’s eyes followed him and the professor. As the other girls chattered among themselves, she saw Zeus shake a fist in the air. “—could absolutely ruin the Games!” she heard him declare.
Her heart began to beat fast. What was he talking about? What could ruin the Games?”
She listened hard to hear Professor Ladon’s response, but only caught a few words of it as he and Zeus moved on. Still, those words made her shudder down to her toes: “—have to cancel them.”
Cancel the Games? No-o! She glanced around at the other girls, trying to gauge if any of them had heard. But they were still chatting away. While she was practically having a heart attack, they were blissfully unaware.
Her hands shook as she fumbled in her pocket for the key Zeus had given her to unlock the door. Was this her fault? Had Zeus discovered some humongous problem she wasn’t aware of? Something she should’ve taken care of? Only, what could be big enough to cancel the Games? Her shaking fingers pulled out the key, but she was so freaked out that she dropped it.
“Butterfingers,” muttered Penthe as it clinked against the stone step they were standing on.
Artemis ignored her snootiness. She had way bigger things to worry about! Scooping up the key, she managed to unlock the doors.
Inside the gym’s storage room, the boxes of supplies were sitting just where she and Hermes had stacked them. Artemis was surprised anew that there were so many boxes. She didn’t remember ordering this much stuff.
“Where should we start?” Satet asked.
“Open the ones labeled ‘beanbag animals,’” Artemis said, pointing at a group of boxes. “They’re for the relay races.”
“There sure are a lot with that label,” said Neith as she sorted through the boxes.
She was right, Artemis noticed. That was strange. They’d only ordered twenty stuffed beanbag animals to hand off in the relays. Those should’ve all fit in a couple of boxes.
“Oh, how fun!” exclaimed Satet as she tore open the box Artemis handed her and saw what was inside. She lifted out a small stuffed unicorn with a rainbow-colo
red horn and showed it to the other girls.
“It’s adorable!” Neith agreed. Diving into the box she’d just opened, she came up with a little green crocodile. “Isn’t this one cute!” She hugged the crocodile to her chest.
Penthe plunged both hands into her box. Then she held up a silver-gray horse in one hand and an orange cat in the other. Artemis could tell she liked them, but of course Penthe wouldn’t admit it. “Are these going to be prizes?” Penthe asked instead.
“Not exactly,” said Artemis. “The runners on the relay teams will be handing them off instead of batons.” She ducked her head, expecting laughter.
But, instead, the girls were delighted. She didn’t have the heart to tell them there was a chance the Games could be called off. And anyway, it might not happen, right? So why start any rumors? Maybe she had misunderstood Zeus and the professor. Until she heard otherwise from them, she was going to carry on getting ready for the Games and hope for the best!
“Can the teams choose which animal they want to use in the race?” Hippolyta asked. She was cuddling a floppy-eared brown-and-white toy dog in her arms.
“Sure,” said Artemis, a bit startled. “Good idea.” It amazed her that these tough Amazon warrior girls were going crazy over stuffed animals. Satet and Neith were too. To think that she’d been worried that true athletes might consider them too girly! Aphrodite’s idea had been a good one after all.
Digging into another box, Artemis finally found a packing slip. It read:
TWENTY BOXES OF ASSORTED STUFFED
BEANBAG ANIMALS.
FOR DELIVERY TO MOUNT OLYMPUS ACADEMY.
Her eyes bugged. Oh no! There were supposed to be twenty animals. Not twenty boxes of animals. She knew she should’ve done all the ordering herself! She’d let Aphrodite take care of the relay race order, and she’d made a mistake. Artemis supposed they could return the extra boxes. But then she got an even better idea!