Who Let the Gods Out?

by Maz Evans

  Elliot and Virgo turned back to the demolished room, where the Queen was zipping up her white gown and smoothing the worst of her disheveled hair. She picked up the two halves of her broken teapot.

  “I never really liked this set anyway,” she said as the real Jeffers burst into the room, still in the pink dress, but with a lump the size of an apple on his head.

  “Your Majesty!” he cried, taking in the destruction of the sitting room. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  “We are fine, thank you, Jeffers,” said the Queen calmly. “But Mr. Hooper would like some crumpets and peanut butter. And we might need a new table.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said a confused Jeffers, who backed out of the room, rubbing his wounded head and trying not to trip on the hem of his dress.

  Elliot picked up Hypnos’s trumpet and put it into Hermes’s satchel.

  The Queen walked over to the original Imperial State Crown and handed it to Elliot.

  “I think you had better take this, Mr. Hooper. Clearly it could do great harm in the wrong hands.”

  Elliot took the crown reverently in his hands. He had it. He could save Home Farm.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said quietly. “Sorry about the mess.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said the Queen. “And good luck finding the other stones. If I can be of any further assistance, you know where to find me.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Elliot, as Jeffers reappeared with a plate of buttered crumpets and a silver pot of peanut butter. “Thanks.”

  “Now if you’ll excuse me,” said the Queen, “I must prepare for the ceremony. I can’t possibly open Parliament with my hair like this.”

  She extended a hand to Elliot and Virgo. “Good-bye, Miss Virgo; good-bye, Mr. Hooper. I’ve a feeling we’re going to be seeing a lot more of you.”

  And with a regal smile, Queen Elizabeth II turned to leave the room, crunching over broken glass and china with every elegant step.

  “Your Majesty?” Elliot said admiringly to her retreating figure. “You rock.”

  “One knows,” said the Queen with a wink.

  The rest of the Queen’s day passed as planned, the State Opening of Parliament proceeding without a hitch. Most observers wouldn’t have noticed anything extraordinary as the Queen watched serenely over the proceedings, playing her regal role to absolute perfection.

  But toward the end of the ceremony, the keenest of eyes might not only have noticed the tiny curl of white steam escaping from the top of the Imperial State Crown, but also Her Majesty’s contented smile at the thought of the lovely cup of Earl Grey she was going to enjoy in the carriage on her way home.

  As Pegasus touched down at Home Farm, Virgo leapt triumphantly off his back.

  “I can’t wait for the others to get back!” she cried. “We have to celebrate!”

  Elliot held the bag containing the crown tightly to his beating chest. Celebrating would have to wait. There was something he had to do first.

  “I need to check on Mom,” he said quickly. “You wait in the shed and tell them the good news. I’ll come up when I’m done.”

  “Oooooh—the Jacuzzi!” said Virgo, running toward the shed. “I can’t get near it when Hermes is here … ”

  “I’d better go and fetch the old boy,” said Pegasus, launching into the sky. “No rest for the wonderful … ”

  Checking that no one was watching, Elliot slunk away to the relative privacy of the fields behind the farmhouse. With a deep breath, he reverently pulled the crown out of the bag.

  Elliot stared at the magnificent diamond at its heart. The Earth Stone was the size of a small apple and had been cut with countless flat edges, which refracted the afternoon sun into a hundred rainbows on the ground. How could something this beautiful corrupt anyone? It could surely only be a force for good?

  Elliot slowly reached out and touched the huge diamond. As his fingers made contact with the Earth Stone, it immediately started to glow with the strength of a thousand sunbeams. He snatched his hand away as if he’d been bitten. The glow disappeared.

  “Whoa,” whispered Elliot. It was true. He really had the mystical Earth Stone at his command. For the first time in his life, Elliot had an inkling of what real power felt like.

  He reached out again, this time placing his whole palm on the Earth Stone. As he connected with the diamond, it felt like it had been made for his hand alone. The incandescent glow illuminated the field, and for a moment, there was nothing in the world but Elliot and the Earth Stone. It was a good feeling.

  He tightened his grasp around the Earth Stone, and as he pulled his hand back, the huge diamond came away from the crown like a head from a pillow. Elliot tossed the useless crown on the ground and cupped his hands around the Earth Stone. He closed his eyes.

  “Find me treasure,” he whispered, experiencing a sensation the likes of which he’d never known. A million tingling atoms flowed through his veins at the command, empowering every inch of his body. He felt bigger. He felt stronger. He felt … invincible.

  As the Earth Stone’s rays hit the ground, it began to tremble and shudder beneath Elliot’s feet. A distant rumble became slowly louder as the diamond glowed brighter in his hand, blinding him with its supernatural glow. Elliot had to resist the urge to roar with the power that surged through his body.

  A thin black line snaked along the ground in front of him. The rumble became stronger; the line widened and the quaking Earth started to open up. Elliot just had time to step aside before there was a jolt, as if the soil were about to be violently ill, then it suddenly exploded in a shower of rubble, propelling him across the grass. Elliot instinctively covered his face with his hands, dropping the Earth Stone, which immediately extinguished.

  The explosion passed. Elliot waved his hand to clear the air and spat a mouthful of grit from his lips. What had just happened?

  As the dust floated back to the Earth, Elliot struggled to comprehend the scene before him. Scattered all around, as if they had fallen from the sky, were unimaginable precious treasures. Some were buried artifacts, others raw gemstones from the ground. There was gold, silver—he couldn’t even name some of the shining lumps that littered the farmyard. But Elliot didn’t care. Whatever they were, they were worth a fortune. He’d become a frequent customer at Mr. Macgregor’s pawn shop in the village, where he’d sold all of Nan’s jewelry and anything else of value over the past months to raise some cash. He thought of Mr. Macgregor’s eyes bursting out of his head when he saw this haul.

  “Epic,” whispered Elliot as he gathered armfuls of the precious loot and put the Earth Stone carefully into his pocket. Imagine what else he could do with its power? He could find gold and jewels anywhere. He and Mom could be rich beyond their wildest dreams. And never have to eat beans again. Perhaps the Earth Stone could be borrowed on a more permanent basis …

  But these were matters for another time. Right now he had to let those stupid loan people know that he had their money. He exhaled weeks of pent-up worry into the dusty air. At last. Home Farm was safe.

  Elliot sprinted toward his front door, stopping only to collect the bits of booty that fell from his arms. He burst into the farmhouse, laden with his treasure.

  “Mom! Mom! We’re celebrating!” he cried. “I’ve got … ”

  “Hello, honeypot,” chirped Patricia Porshley-Plum, blocking his path to the kitchen, her eyes as warm as winter. “Ooh—are you playing pirates?”

  “How did you get in here?” Elliot asked suspiciously.

  “You should be more careful, munchkin,” trilled Patricia. “Leaving that gate wide open like that? Anyone could have gotten in … ”

  “Are you okay, Mom?” said Elliot, pushing past Patricia to where his mom was sitting happily in the kitchen.

  “Oh, we’ve had the loveliest time, haven’t we, Josie?” said Patricia, looming behind her and squeezing her shoulders.

  “Lovely, Elly. We had scones.”

  “Of course we did,
dear. We’re not animals,” said Patricia.

  “You look tired, Mom,” Elliot said, glancing at Patricia. “Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down?”

  “What a lovely idea, Josie. That way Elly and I can have a little chat about our busy-bee day.”

  Pausing only to give her son a loving squeeze on her way past, Josie headed quietly upstairs to her bedroom.

  “Ellykins. I know what’s been going on,” said Patricia gravely, as soon as Josie was out of earshot. “You poor, poor little pickle! What a lot you’ve had to deal with! You should have asked me for help.”

  “We’re fine, thank you,” said Elliot, sensing greater danger from this awful woman.

  “Of course you are, sugarplumplum. Or at least you will be now.”

  Elliot’s blood cooled by several degrees.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well … Momsy and I were talking over lunch the other day—you know, girl talk—and she told me about your … money worries.” She whispered them like the dirty words that they were. “I know about the house.”

  “Mom doesn’t know about the house,” said Elliot. “So how could she tell you?”

  “Mommies know everything, pumpkin,” said Patricia, her eyes betraying that she’d slipped up. “But you don’t need to worry about that silly loan anymore.”

  “Why?” asked Elliot suspiciously.

  “To think they sent that horrid ickle-bickle letter threatening your home—some people have no shame,” she said with her monkey-bottom pout.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The loan. The twenty thousand pounds. It’s history, all gone, pffff!” trilled Patricia, with a voice like a frantic merry-go-round. “I’ve paid off your debt in full.”

  Elliot couldn’t believe it. How could he get someone so wrong? All this time he’d thought Patricia was a rotten, interfering harridan. And yet she’d given them this wonderful gift. His gut instincts were never normally this off. But he’d never been happier to be wrong in all his life.

  “Mrs. Porshley-Plum—I don’t know how to thank you,” he said.

  “Oh, no need to worry about that, my little porkie pie,” said Patricia. “Anything to see you and Momsy happy.”

  “That’s—that’s amazing.” Elliot smiled. He couldn’t believe it. After all that, salvation was living next door. Life was full of surprises.

  “Virtue is its own reward,” said Patricia, standing to leave. “And besides, Mommy has already thanked me in a super-special way … ”

  “Sorry?” said Elliot.

  “I’m sure it’s for the best—this place must be so much work for you … ”

  “What do you mean?” asked Elliot, his blood temperature starting to dip once more.

  “All that cleaning and all those bills to worry about. Not to mention finding some more suitable … care for Mommypoos.”

  “What’s for the best?” asked Elliot, now practically a Popsicle inside. “What have you done?”

  “It’s good news, dumpling,” said Patricia, pulling a sheaf of papers from her handbag and tossing them on the kitchen table. “We’ve finalized all the paperwork today.”

  “What—what are these?” said Elliot, his panic blurring the legal gobbledygook before his eyes.

  “It’s so exciting, pookie!” shrieked Patricia. “Mommy’s sold me your farm!”

  Elliot choked back the sickness that spewed up his throat.

  “No—no—you don’t understand!” he cried. “She—she’s not well! She doesn’t know what she’s doing! She’d never sell the farm! She’s … ”

  He held all the treasure in his arms out to Patricia.

  “Here—take this, let me buy it back,” he said, tears filling his eyes. “You can have it all—I can get you more. I can get you anything you want. Just … please … ”

  “Oh, there, there, there,” said Patricia, chucking Elliot a paper towel to dry his eyes. “There’s no need to do that. Besides, you’re going to need that money.”

  “Why?” choked Elliot.

  Patricia’s face lit up like a jack-o’-lantern.

  “To find somewhere else to live,” she sneered. “I have legally purchased Home Farm”—Patricia chuckled as she played her final ace—“for twenty pounds.”

  There was a scream in Elliot’s head as a roar of blood rushed to his brain.

  “Get out!” he yelled as his fingers tightened around the Earth Stone in his pocket.

  “Elly?” said Josie sleepily, wandering back into the kitchen. “What’s all the noise?”

  “That’s no way to talk to your elders and betters,” said Patricia, ignoring Josie as she parked her handbag on her arm. “My lawyer says the house sale should take about four weeks. I suggest you start packing … ”

  “Packing for what?” said Josie anxiously. “What house sale? Where are we going, Elly? What’s happening?”

  “Get. Out,” said Elliot menacingly, wishing the ground would open up and swallow Patricia whole. The diamond began to glow in his palm.

  “Urgh,” snorted Patricia, taking a disdainful look around the kitchen. “This really is a mercy killing. The rats must be complaining to the public health board about this place … ”

  “Elly, I don’t understand,” said Josie. “Why is she saying—?”

  “I said … GET OUT!” yelled Elliot, his body igniting with the power of the stone. As his voice exploded into the air, the kitchen filled with the diamond’s light. The ground beneath Patricia’s feet burst open, nearly sending her tumbling into the small ravine it created in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Elliot?” cried Josie in disbelief.

  “What the … ! This place is a death trap!” shrieked Patricia as she teetered over the chasm.

  Elliot stood panting in the middle of the kitchen, his blue eyes darkened with the tint of pure hatred.

  “I think you should leave, Patricia,” said Josie, rushing to her son and pulling him into her arms. Elliot dropped the Earth Stone to the floor and collapsed into his mother’s embrace.

  “Fine with me.” Patricia scowled. “But mark my words. So long as there is breath in this body, in four weeks the pair of you will be where you belong—out on the street!”

  Patricia stormed out of the farm, leaving Elliot crying in his mother’s arms. He stayed in her embrace for an eternity, shaking with agonized sobs.

  “I can’t do it, Mom!” he gasped eventually. “I can’t do it anymore!”

  “Shhhh,” soothed Josie, stroking his head. “I’m sure we can make it better. Now tell me what’s happened. Something at school?”

  Elliot looked tearfully into his mother’s calm face. She’d already forgotten.

  But he couldn’t. In four weeks, Elliot and Josie would lose Home Farm.

  Patricia Porshley-Plum had won.

  “So let me get this straight,” said Thanatos, arching his long, thin fingers beneath his chin as he stretched out on his throne of bones. “You have failed to kill the child. You have failed to fight a woman in her nineties. And you’ve failed to bring me my Earth Stone.”

  “And I’ve lost my beautiful trumpet,” sulked Hypnos as he reclined on his sumptuous fur-lined bed in the Cave of Sleep and Death. His shrill voice echoed around the dark, barren chambers of the cave. Outside, the river Lethe murmured and the poppies at the cave’s mouth rustled. “But looking around this place, you failed to understand the basics of interior decor. Would a little wallpaper be too much to ask … ?”

  “MY PATIENCE WEARS THIN!” roared Thanatos, leaping from his throne and flinging aside the black, wispy drapes surrounding his brother’s bed. “If I thought for one minute you were double-crossing me … ”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Hypnos smiled, his brother’s fury immediately cheering him up. “It’s all under control—trust me. You’re far too suspicious … ”

  “I wonder why,” said Thanatos, pinning his twin against the wall and grabbing his kardia. “I’m warning you, brother. Betray me aga
in and I—”

  “Can’t kill me!” Hypnos grinned. “You swore an oath … ”

  “Which I will uphold as I tear you apart, piece by piece, leaving only your loud mouth to tell me where my Chaos Stones are. Perhaps I should start now to remind you where your loyalties lie … ?”

  “Thanatos?” said a new voice outside the cave, cutting through the air like a moonbeam.

  Thanatos spun around.

  “Who’s there?” he shouted.

  “Too slow!” taunted Hypnos, taking advantage of his brother’s distraction to free himself from his grip.

  “Get back here,” snarled Thanatos. “I’m not done with you.”

  “Well, maybe I’m done with you,” trilled Hypnos. “You’re not the boss of me. And you’re no fun anymore. See ya.”

  And the Daemon of Sleep unfurled his wings and whizzed out of the cave with a whoop, shaking the sea of poppies that wafted at the cave’s entrance.

  “Who is it?” Thanatos demanded again. “Reveal yourself.”

  The intruder stepped into the cave.

  “Well, well, well. How did you find me?” Thanatos smiled admiringly.

  “Charon,” said Elliot, walking into the darkness. “It’s amazing what he’ll do for three bottle tops and a pen cap.”

  “You’ll have to excuse me—I rarely entertain mortals,” said Thanatos, pulling up a chair for Elliot. “Not live ones, anyway. The Underworld doesn’t seem to … agree with them. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Elliot wiped his puffy eyes. This was his only hope, the only way to keep Mom safe. He’d told himself that all the way here. He placed the Earth Stone on the table between them. Thanatos’s eyes flickered with desire.