by Joan Holub
“I won’t tell, promise,” Eos said hurriedly as the other goddessgirls came toward her. “Thanks, Apollo. I really appreciate it.”
“Sure. Later,” he said. Then he headed off, whistling for the dogs to follow him from the cafeteria.
7
Zeus
WHAT WERE YOU TALKING TO my brother about?” Artemis asked Eos as the two of them and Nyx exited the cafeteria behind Persephone, Aphrodite, and Athena.
“Not much,” Eos replied vaguely, wanting to keep her promise to Apollo. “I was just petting your dogs and stuff.” Luckily, Artemis seemed satisfied with this answer and didn’t press her further. Nyx didn’t either. Phew!
Since it was close to seven by now, the girls all said good-bye to Nyx when they reached the base of the marble staircase that led up to classrooms and dorms. Eos was last to give her a hug. “Thanks for inviting me to your celebration,” she said. “It was a lot of fun.”
“I’m glad you were able to come,” Nyx replied. “Enjoy yourself tonight, and I’ll see you at dawn.” Then she waved to the girls and quickly disappeared through the Academy’s front doors.
“So . . . um . . . do you think your dad might be back from that tournament he went to?” Eos asked Athena as the girls started upstairs. Now that she knew for sure that Zeus would grant her request to make Tithonus immortal, she was eager to see him.
Athena nodded. “He flew in on his winged horse, Pegasus, while I was giving the reindeer their food and water. He’s probably in his office, since he told me he had some work he needed to do tonight.” With one foot on the bottom step of the stairs, she paused. Raising her eyebrows at Eos, she added, “Sounds to me like there is something you want to see him about, after all.”
“Yes, actually, there is,” Eos said, reversing the emphatic no she’d given on their chariot trip back from Ephesus.
The other three girls had bunched around them on the stairs and looked at her expectantly. It was obvious they were curious to know her business with Zeus.
“I . . . um . . .” Suddenly Eos remembered Tithonus’s request before she left for the unveiling. “I want to ask for his autograph for a friend of mine!” she blurted out. “He asked me to try to get it if I saw Zeus.”
Aphrodite grinned. “Would this be your extra-special friend we’re talking about?”
Eos felt her cheeks flush. “Well, yeah.”
“Piece of cake,” said Athena. “Zeus loves signing autographs for mortal fans.”
“Want someone to go with you?” Persephone asked. “The rest of us can start organizing some games upstairs in the dorm. We were thinking that would be a fun way for you to get to know some of the other girls before Aphrodite and I leave for my mom’s.”
“Thanks, but I’d kind of like to meet Zeus on my own,” Eos replied. Truthfully, she wasn’t looking forward to meeting him at all, but for Tithonus’s sake she would. And she would have loved the girls’ company for moral support. But just as Apollo didn’t want word getting around that he’d given her a prophecy lest other students start asking for them too, she guessed Zeus wouldn’t want it known that he’d granted her friend immortality. If that news got out, he’d no doubt have a stream of mortals like Medusa coming to him with the same request!
After saying good-bye to the other four goddessgirls, Eos followed signs to the main office. There she met a nine-headed lady, whose name tag read MS. HYDRA.
“Is Principal Zeus in?” Eos asked her.
Ms. Hydra had been filing papers behind a tall counter, but now all nine of her heads swiveled toward Eos. “And who might you be?” demanded a grumpy-looking green head.
“Eos. Goddessgirl of the dawn,” she replied. “I was hoping to see Zeus tonight since I have to leave MOA super early tomorrow to do my job.”
Ms. Hydra’s heads arched their eyebrows. “Did Principal Zeus give permission for you to stay the night?” her gray head asked briskly.
“Well, no,” Eos admitted. “But Hera did. We were both at the unveiling of Nyx’s statue at Artemis’s temple in Ephesus, and—” Hearing thumps and grunts coming from behind a door at the far side of the main office, she broke off speaking and looked toward the sound.
“Principal Zeus is very busy at present,” the office lady’s purple head said with an impatient sniff. “It’s after hours and we’ll both be leaving soon. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“Puh-leeze? I won’t be here tomorrow. Like I said, I have to leave super early because of my job.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth it occurred to her that, since bringing the dawn only took a half hour or so to complete, she could return to MOA to speak to Zeus afterward. But she wanted to get this over with before she lost her nerve. So she smiled her most winning smile and coaxed, “It won’t take long. I just need to ask him a question.”
While more thumps and grunts came from beyond the door across the way, Ms. Hydra’s heads argued among themselves about whether or not to grant Eos’s request. Finally the office lady’s sunny-looking yellow head extended its neck toward Eos and said, “I’ll see if he’s willing to be disturbed.” Ms. Hydra came out from behind the tall counter and crossed the room to knock on Principal Zeus’s office door.
“Enter!” thundered Zeus.
Eos cringed at his loud voice, and a shiver ran down her spine. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. If not for Apollo’s prophecy assuring her that Zeus would grant her request, she might have chickened out then and there. Instead, as Ms. Hydra opened Zeus’s door and then stuck two of her heads inside the room, Eos tried to peek in around her. But the partly open door blocked her view.
“Visiting student here to see you,” Eos heard one of Ms. Hydra’s heads announce to Zeus. “Name is Eos, goddessgirl of the dawn.” Then another head, probably the impatient purple one, said, “I told her you’re busy and it’s late, so if you’d rather not see her . . .”
“Not a problem. Show her in!” Zeus’s booming voice replied. “Four hundred forty, four hundred forty-one . . .”
Huh? What was he doing in there? Eos wondered. Counting an enormous pile of bronze and silver drachmas?
Ms. Hydra withdrew her two heads. Then all nine of them nodded at Eos. “Go on in,” they chorused before heading back to the front desk.
Eos tried without success to calm the butterflies in her stomach as she stepped inside Zeus’s office. Her eyes went to his enormous desk. The large golden throne behind it had fancy back and seat cushions in blue and gold, MOA school colors. And it was empty.
“Welcome to MOA,” a loud voice boomed at her. She swung around, her gaze shooting deeper into the room to find the red-haired, red-bearded Zeus lying on his back on the floor. His two muscular arms were lifting a four-drawer file cabinet high above his chest. “Four hundred fifty-seven, four hundred fifty-eight . . . ,” he huffed as he pumped it up and down, grunting with the effort.
“Hera told me she’d invited you here. Forgot to tell Ms. Hydra, though.” Then he went on counting and grunting, without looking at her.
“That’s okay,” said Eos. That file cabinet looked mega-heavy. Zeus started pumping it with only one hand, then tossing it back and forth between his left and his right! She stepped back, wary of such strength.
“So what do you need?” he asked. “Did it just dawn on you that since you were here you should take the opportunity to meet the King of the Gods and Ruler of the Heavens?” he added with a big laugh. “Four hundred ninety, four hundred ninety-one . . .”
Zeus made jokes? This was unexpected. “Um. Not exactly, but . . . ,” Eos began, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.
“You’re Helios’s little sister, right?” Zeus roared out as she debated how best to word her request. “Great guy, Helios. Sunny personality. Ha-ha!”
“Uh . . . yeah,” Eos murmured. Definitely a joke. Weird. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected Zeus to be like or how she’d thought he’d treat her, but certainly not like this. He was being so . . . so nice. I
t actually kind of rattled her.
“Go on. . . . Four hundred ninety-seven . . . Four hundred ninety-eight . . . So why did you really come to see me?” he boomed.
“Five hundred!” he exclaimed after two more pushes. “Done!” Zeus tossed the file cabinet onto the bottoms of his huge sandaled feet. Still lying on his back, he pumped his legs in the air, twirling the file cabinet around and around like some circus performer. Too nervous to speak now, Eos took another couple of steps back and glanced toward the open office door.
When she said nothing more, Zeus regarded her with his intense blue eyes. “Well?” he thundered. “Speak up. What are you here for?”
Eos gulped. After clearing her throat, she drew on all her courage and said, “I have this friend back home. His name is Tithonus? He’s mortal, and I was wondering if—”
“Stop right there!” ordered Zeus. He kicked the cabinet from his feet, causing it to land a few yards away from him, standing upright on the floor. Bam! With that he leaped up and strode over to loom above her. All seven feet of him. Sparks of electricity zinged and popped from his arms and fingers as he planted his hands on his hips.
Eos gulped again. Her eyes slid sideways, taking in all the scorch marks on the office walls. Then her eyes found the door again. “Uh . . . maybe I should just go. . . .”
Suddenly Zeus took hold of her arm. Bzzt! “Ow! Wait!” she said, feeling a few sparks lightly zap her. He didn’t let go, but instead steered her to one of the visitor chairs set in a row before his desk. As she stood, somewhat dazed, next to the chair, Zeus plopped down on the golden throne opposite.
“Sit!” he commanded, and she did. Her chair’s cushion was covered with small scorch marks too, she noticed with alarm.
Electricity fizzled from Zeus’s fingers as he steepled them together on top of his desk. He leaned forward, his muscular arms bulging. “I think I know what you’re about to ask,” he told her.
Eos jumped in her chair. “You d-do?” she stuttered.
Zeus rolled his eyes. Then he kicked back in his chair and crossed his sandaled feet on his desktop. A stack of papers on it fluttered haphazardly to the floor, but he took no notice. “You want me to make your friend immortal, right?”
Eos blinked in surprise. Had he somehow read her mind?
Zeus sighed. “If I had a drachma for every time someone asked that favor of me, I’d be even richer than I already am.”
Eos’s heart fell. “So you won’t do it? But Apollo prophesied that you would!” She hadn’t meant to tell Zeus about the prophecy, but Apollo had only asked her not to tell any students, so she really hadn’t broken her promise.
Zeus’s bushy red eyebrows shot up. “A prophecy? Well, that changes things!” Getting up from his desk, he began to pace around the room, muttering to himself. Though Eos strained to hear, she couldn’t make out even a single word. At last Zeus stopped in front of her. “Can you remember exactly what you asked and what Apollo said?” he asked gruffly.
Eos nodded. His prophecy was etched on her brain! “First I asked Apollo if you would help me make Tithonus immortal,” she told Zeus. “And then he said: ‘It seems that Zeus will grant your request.’ ”
“I see,” said Zeus. He folded both arms over his chest and looked at her with a thoughtful expression on his face. “The thing is, immortality can be a tricky gift to grant. You say you asked Apollo if I would help you make your friend immortal. So because of the way you phrased your question, I’ll have to lend you some of my power instead of doing the job myself. I have no choice. Prophecies must be obeyed.” He set a hand on her shoulder. “I hereby give you the power to grant your friend immortality when you see him next.” A strange tingling zapped through her and then was gone.
It was a moment before the realization of what he’d done dawned on the goddessgirl of the dawn. “Wait! I really wanted you to make Tithonus immortal! What if I don’t do it right—”
“Too late,” interrupted Zeus. “What’s done is done.” He strode to his office door. “Now I’m off. Got a chess match to win! Against your dad!”
“Huh?” Her dad? Eos stared at him, astonished at how casually Zeus had mentioned him.
“You mean down in the Underworld? Where you imprisoned him?” She didn’t tell him she had never visited her dad there even once.
Hearing the tension in her voice, Zeus nodded sympathetically. “I know his imprisonment must not seem fair to you, but war is like chess. Two sides. Winners, losers. Your dad’s not a bad fellow. It’s just that he wound up on the wrong side in this war, and . . . well . . . rules are rules. Losers in war must go to Tartarus in the Underworld.”
“You’re right—it doesn’t seem fair!” she insisted.
“I can understand how you feel,” Zeus said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “But I made the rules of war long ago to cut down on strife in the world. Your dad’s comfortable down there, though—lots of hobbies and studies. And he’s become a first-class chess master. I’ve been practicing at tournaments in hopes I can finally beat him one day.”
Her dad was comfortable in the depths of the Underworld? He played chess? This was not at all what she had imagined his life there to be like. With the exception of Nyx’s home, Hades’ famous palace, and the Elysian Fields (the Underworld’s most desirable neighborhood, where everyone feasted, played, and sang for forevermore), she’d thought the Underworld was all doom and gloom!
A competitive gleam lit Zeus’s eyes. “And I have a feeling that tonight’s the night I’m finally going to win!” Looking determined, he stomped off toward the door.
Eos turned in her chair, so she could watch him over her shoulder. Pausing in the doorway, he informed her, “Remember, this whole immortality-granting power I gave you is just a one-time thing. Also, your borrowed power will expire twenty-four hours from now.”
Yikes! thought Eos. That meant she only had until tomorrow evening to make Tithonus immortal! Stunned at all Zeus had just told her, she sat glued to her chair for several moments.
But at last she jumped up. “Wait! How do I do it? What are the words to use?” She dashed through the door, past Ms. Hydra, and out into the hall.
Zeus, however, was gone.
Eos stood there uncertainly. Was there a special spell she should use, or what? she wondered. Confusion swirled in her brain. Not just about the spell, either. There was the dad stuff too. What was she supposed to make of all that Zeus had told her?
8
A Slight Misunderstanding
EOS WAS STILL STANDING IN the hall outside the main office when Ares bounded up to her. “Thank godness, I found you!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “Apollo told me you’d gone to see Zeus, but I wasn’t sure you’d still be around. C’mon, I need your help!”
He grabbed her hand. His blue eyes were big and round. He looked almost . . . scared. Scared? The godboy of war? No way! The very idea momentarily put thoughts of immortality spells and her dad right out of her head.
“What’s wrong?” she asked Ares as he began tugging her down the hall.
He looked over his shoulder at her, but didn’t stop moving. “Back at Artemis’s temple, when you asked me for my autograph, you mentioned that your friend . . . um . . . Titmouse?”
“Tithonus,” Eos corrected.
Ares nodded, which caused a lock of his blond hair to fall forward over one eye, just like Tithonus’s cowlick often did. “Yeah, him,” Ares said, shoving back the unruly lock. A while ago he’d been voted handsomest godboy in a Teen Scrollazine reader poll. Eos supposed he was, but only if you were into annoying, blond-haired, super-athletic boys.
If she ever were to have a crush, she’d choose someone gentler and more modest than the godboy of war. Someone with a grand passion for things and a sense of humor, too. Someone more like . . . well . . . Tithonus. Not that she’d ever admit that to anyone. Especially not Aphrodite, who saw romance blooming everywhere she looked!
“Wait. Stop. Where are we going?” asked Eos. She tu
gged on his hand and Ares paused, letting go of her.
“You said your friend was a bug expert, and you sometimes help him.” Ares rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “So you know about bugs. And, uh, I was wondering if you could, uh, identify a spider I found in my room. I’m worried it could be poisonous.”
“Well,” said Eos, “I’ve picked up a few things from Tithonus, but he’s the true expert. And spiders aren’t actually bugs. Or insects, for that matter. They’re arachnids. They have eight legs, instead of six, no wings or antennae, either. Plus, they can’t chew.”
“See?” Ares flashed her a blinding white smile. “You do know a lot about . . . er . . . arachnids.” Suddenly he paled, and his anxiety seemed to return. “Won’t you please at least come take a look at my, er, problem?” Seeming to assume she wouldn’t tell him no, he took her hand again, tugging her toward the end of the hall.
Eos followed, suspicious now. Was it possible this big, athletic godboy of war was afraid of spiders? Yes, it was. Lots of people were. She wasn’t that crazy about them herself. But being around Tithonus had made her much less afraid of arachnids—and insects as well—than she might’ve been otherwise.
Deciding she owed Ares a favor since he’d been so nice about signing his autograph for Tithonus, she said, “Okay. I’ll take a look. But I’m not promising I can identify it.”
“Great!” Ares said. “Follow me!” Letting go of her hand, he took off up the wide marble staircase so fast that she had to practically run to keep pace with him.
As they hurried up to the dorms, Eos tried to calm him down. The more he learned about spiders, the less afraid he might become. “So my friend Tithonus told me spiders aren’t actually poisonous. But some are venomous. Which means they inject their toxins with fangs.” She was surprised she’d remembered that. Maybe her attention was less scattered than she gave herself credit for!
Remembering something else, she added, “And though almost all spiders have venom, which they use to weaken their prey, the venom seldom has any effect on humans. Bees and wasps are far more dangerous. In fact, only a tiny fraction of one percent of spider species in the entire world have venom strong enough to make people sick.”