by Maz Evans
“Remind me to teach you the word ‘subtle.’ ” Elliot smiled as he ushered everyone back into the limo.
“Well done, baby,” said Mom with a proud smile. “I love you so much.”
“Love you too, Mom,” said Elliot, giving her a great big hug. “Now let’s party!”
The limo screeched around the circular driveway and raced back to Home Farm, leaving only a trail of party streamers, a waft of pink exhaust fumes—and one deeply suspicious history teacher, resolved to get to the bottom of the strange world of Elliot Hooper.
Elliot, Josie, and the immortals partied with willful abandon all night long, pushing all thoughts of the next day as far from their minds as they could. But as Friday dawned, so too did the reality that this was their last day at Home Farm.
“The harpy-faced hag,” huffed Aphrodite through her dark glasses. “Why, I’ve a good mind to scratch her evil eyes out—”
“Temper will get you nowhere,” said Athene, reading through the paperwork for the millionth time. “But this is watertight. She has legally bought the farm.”
“P’raps I should go and negotiate with her,” said Hephaestus, sharpening his ax.
“We can’t break mortal laws,” said Zeus. “However unfair they are.”
“Why can’t Elliot just buy it back?” called Hermes beneath his sleep mask. “He only needs twenty quid. With the Earth Stone, he could buy King Croesus a condo.”
“It’s no good unless this stupid Horse’s-Bum wants to sell it now,” said Zeus.
“Chances of that are slimmer than a supermodel’s sandwich,” sighed Hermes. “There must be something we can do?”
“Maybe she’ll have a change of heart,” said Zeus, putting his arm around Elliot’s dejected shoulders. “After all, the only person who can stop this sale now is Patricia herself.”
“BOSH!” yelled Hermes as he shot blindly up in the air like a rocket, hitting his head on the ceiling. “That’s it!”
“It is?” said Zeus, not at all sure what was what.
“Where are you going?” Athene yelled after the flying messenger as the discarded sleep mask hit her in the face.
“No time, babe,” shouted Hermes, pulling on the invisibility helmet as he flew out of the gate. “Hold tight … ”
“It’s only a house, Elly,” said Aphrodite as the clock ticked toward the midday deadline for Patricia’s purchase. “We’ll help you find a new one.”
“I don’t … what’s happening … where are my things?” said an agitated Josie, trying to unpack one of the dozens of boxes that filled the farmhouse.
“It’s our home,” said Elliot, holding Josie’s hand as he switched on the television to distract her. “It’s the only place Mom knows. The only place that’s familiar to her. We have nowhere else.”
The Gods looked helplessly at each other as Elliot tightened his grip on his mother’s hand and whispered reassurances in her ear.
At 11:55 a.m., Patricia Porshley-Plum tottered into the farm, still smarting from the smack on the butt that the open gate had administered on her way in.
“Hello, cutie-pudding!” shrieked Patricia, barging her way into the house.
“Can no one shut a bloody gate!” huffed Hephaestus, heading out to his fence.
“It’s not midday,” said Elliot angrily, looking at the grandfather clock. “It’s not yours yet.”
“Details, details, my pookie. Well, well, well—isn’t this quite the party?” said Patricia, eyeing up the fuming immortals. “How nice to see you all again.”
“Can’t say the same,” said Aphrodite tartly.
“Aw, that’s lovely, dear, just lovely,” said Patricia absently, looking around the house she couldn’t wait to tear down. “It’s so important to make lovely memories. And this will be a lovely memory of your last day at Home Farm. In fact, Home Farm’s last day too. The bulldozers are outside the fence.”
“I don’t … I can’t … what … ?” started Josie again, as Aphrodite put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“Please,” said Elliot frantically to the Gods. “Do something … anything.”
“We can’t break mortal laws,” said Zeus sadly.
“We can break their snotty noses, though,” said Aphrodite, her beautiful face screwed up in hatred as she made for Patricia on the other side of the room. Athene held her back.
“Aphrodite—let me handle this,” Athene said, calmly approaching Patricia. “Mrs. Porshley-Plum. Without question, you are the most MISERABLE, TWISTED, ODIOUS GORGON FART!” she screamed. “I SHOULD TAKE THIS CONTRACT AND—”
Zeus quickly clamped his hands over Elliot’s ears to spare the boy from the torrent of filth that spewed out of Athene’s mouth. But from the hand gestures alone, Elliot could gather that whatever Athene was suggesting was going to be extremely energetic, very uncomfortable, and Mrs. Porshley-Plum was going to be doing it rather a lot for a long, long time.
“UNTIL IT DROPS OFF!” puffed a red-faced Athene, taking her first breath for over a minute.
“Charming, my dear,” said Patricia, unmoved. “But in three minutes, I will own this farm. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You’re a monster,” boomed Zeus.
“You’re a witch,” hissed Aphrodite.
“You’re on the TV,” said Josie, as Patricia’s pointy nose appeared on the screen.
“What the devil?” huffed Patricia as Athene turned up the volume on the local news report.
“And finally, a lovely Christmas miracle to roast your chestnuts as we cross live to Little Motbury for a special announcement from local businesswoman Patricia Porshley-Plum,” said the news anchor as the screen switched to outside Patricia’s house.
“Wait! That’s not me!” cried Patricia as her identical twin started to speak.
“This special time of year has caused me to reconsider my selfish and greedy ways,” the on-screen Patricia started. “I realize that by slavishly pursuing my own wealth, I have hurt this community. Not to mention my roots—this hair dye is appalling.”
“Are those wings on your shoes?” Aphrodite smiled, squinting at Patricia’s high-definition feet.
“But, but, but … ” stammered the Patricia in the room, regretting the second sherry she’d had her butler pour at breakfast.
“And so I’ve decided to give back to the community from which I’ve taken so much,” TV Patricia continued. “I’ve donated all of my vast wealth to charity.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOO!” screamed Patricia as her cell phone started to ring.
“And furthermore,” TV Patricia continued, striking a pose for the cameras, “I’d like to open my house to the poorest members of our society, to become a hostel for those in need of shelter and a place to get back on their feet.”
“WHAT—WHAT—WHAT DO YOU WANT?” she screamed down her cell phone as the grandfather clock struck midday. “Bankrupt? No—that’s not possible. Of course there are sufficient funds in my account, it’s only twenty pounds! What do you mean I forfeit the sale? I can’t lose Home Farm! I WANT IT!”
Elliot looked more closely at the picture on the TV. Patricia’s shoes definitely did have tiny wings on the side. And there were a couple tucked into her perm as well …
“Finally, I’d like to take this opportunity to apologize to those I’ve wronged,” said Hermes, disguised as Patricia. “Never again will I be the avaricious idiot I’ve been my whole life. And I will definitely get my colors done—these autumn shades make my skin look flatter than a banana pancake. Now, please—come and enjoy my wine cellar—the first ten inside get a free bottle of Château Lafite! Boom!”
“No—not the Château Lafite!” screamed Patricia, running for the door as Athene joyfully ripped up the paperwork for the house sale. “Stop—all you disgusting poor people, get your impoverished fingers off my lovely things. Stop! Stop!”
“Wait a minute!” shouted Elliot. “You forgot something.”
He rummaged around in his pocket and pul
led out a twenty-pound note.
“Here,” he said. “Now we’re even.”
“Aaaaaaaaaargh!” Patricia raced out of the door and immediately tripped on the path, leaving one of her shoes stuck in the paving stones.
“Allow me to ’elp you,” said Hephaestus, dragging her toward the fence.
“Get your filthy hands off me!” roared Patricia, kicking the gate with her remaining shoe. “GET ME OUT OF HERE!”
“Suit yourself,” said Hephaestus, lumbering toward a large lever by the fence. “Cheerio.”
And as the immortal blacksmith yanked on the lever, Mrs. Horse’s-Bum was catapulted high into the air with a shriek, her petticoats flapping in the breeze, straight over the fence, past the retreating bulldozers and as far away as the eye could see.
Christmas Day was a celebration like none Elliot had known. By late afternoon, Elliot and the immortals were flopping around the creaking dining-room table, piled with enough food to feed a continent.
“I’m stuffed. Seriously,” groaned Hermes, downing his fourth piece of Yule log cake.
Elliot happily tucked into his third bowl of Christmas pudding, fighting off Virgo for the last of the brandy butter.
“Who wants to pull another cracker?” said Aphrodite to a chorus of groans from the group, who were tired of being squirted with water or having a custard pie thrown at them from her trick crackers. “Spoilsports,” she pouted, pulling one by herself and being showered in rose-scented pink glitter.
Elliot looked over at Mom, who was happily chatting to Athene. Elliot’s mind flashed back to the previous Christmas, when Grandad had been so ill he couldn’t make it downstairs for Christmas dinner, so he and Mom had sat around his bed with their tiny portions of cold turkey. He wished his grandparents were here to see the cheer around the table, but he knew that they’d be happy just to know that he and Mom were safe and being so well looked after.
“Prezzie time! Boom!” shouted Hermes, flying over to the giant Christmas tree, which was not only surrounded by mountains of presents but also topped with a real fairy.
“HELLO!” yelled the fairy down her cell phone. “I CAN’T TALK! I’M ON THE TOP OF A CHRISTMAS TREE!”
Hermes sifted through the gifts, flying them around the room until everyone had a pile at least as tall as themselves.
Elliot set to work on his particularly huge stack. Athene had given him an encyclopedia that contained every single subject known to man—plus a few that weren’t—and projected moving holograms of each entry. Aphrodite immediately looked up the rudest thing she could think of.
From the Goddess of Love herself, Elliot received a box of mischievous potions, for everything from growing excess body hair to making someone speak backward—as well as the confiscated wishing pearl she had hidden in the bottom of the box, winking as Elliot slipped it into his pocket.
The gifts went on and on—his own bottomless satchel from Hermes, a pen from Zeus that threw thunderbolts with a click of the top, and his own copy of What’s What from Virgo.
But his favorite gift came from Hephaestus, who quietly dropped a knotted handkerchief in Elliot’s lap on his way out.
“’Appy Christmas,” the blacksmith mumbled as he left the busy farmhouse for the peace and quiet of his forge.
Elliot unknotted the handkerchief. Inside was his father’s watch, restored to perfect working order and complete with a set of pencil-scrawled notes on the improvements Hephaestus had made. Elliot wasn’t sure he’d ever need his watch to unlock a combination safe or trigger an explosion, but he was truly touched by Hephaestus’s gesture.
Virgo leaned over and stole a piece of Christmas cake from Elliot’s plate.
“Hey—that’s mine!” objected Elliot.
“Your rules.” Virgo smiled, swallowing it whole. “Not mine.”
“Do you have a minute, Elliot?” asked Zeus. “I think I need to walk off that fourth plate of turkey.”
Elliot and Zeus walked up into the fields, which were still thriving with Demeter’s exotic fruits and vegetables. It was slightly odd seeing giant pineapple trees covered in a thin layer of snow, but they appeared to be in excellent health in the icy field.
“How are you, dear boy?” Zeus asked Elliot. “Really?”
“I’m fine,” said Elliot honestly. “Everything’s fine now.”
“You’re a hero,” said Zeus. “I don’t know many mortals—or immortals—who could have resisted Thanatos like that. You’re an exceptional young man, Elliot Hooper.”
“I haven’t stopped him, though, have I?” said Elliot, voicing the doubt that had been nagging at him since his return from the Underworld.
“No,” said Zeus softly. “Unfortunately Thanatos still has allies. It won’t be long before someone comes to his aid—indeed, I suspect they already have. But don’t underestimate what you did. If you hadn’t, Thanatos would have taken the Earth Stone, and I dread to think what could have happened.”
“I’m sorry I stole it,” said Elliot, desperate to unburden himself from the guilt he’d been dragging around for weeks. “I didn’t think I had any choice.”
“But you did make a choice. The right one.” Zeus smiled, producing the Earth Stone from his pocket. “I never thought I’d see this again.”
“What are you going to do with it?” asked Elliot.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” said Zeus as he came to a halt, his blue eyes meeting Elliot’s.
“What do you mean?” said Elliot as Zeus placed the Earth Stone in his palm. “Why are you—?”
“Thanatos can’t touch you,” said Zeus, wrapping Elliot’s fingers around the glowing stone. “You’re the only person who can keep it from him.”
“Are you sure?” Elliot asked. Thanatos’s oath in the cave swirled around his mind. The Chaos Stones in return for his mom. Could Zeus really trust Elliot? Could Elliot really trust himself?
“Guarding the stones won’t be easy,” said Zeus. “They are a heavy burden to bear. One that I couldn’t face.”
Elliot remembered how powerful he felt when he used the Earth Stone. He could get used to that feeling. Too used to it, perhaps.
“They corrupted powerful Daemons like Erebus and Thanatos—you’ll need every ounce of goodness in your heart to makes sure they don’t consume you.”
“So you’re saying I could end up like Gollum?” gasped Elliot.
“What? Running your own successful chain of high-end jewelers?” said Zeus. “No, I meant you’d go mad.”
“Right,” said Elliot, holding his Earth Stone up to the light and casting rainbows all around.
“This is serious, Elliot,” said Zeus, in a harsher tone than Elliot had heard him use before. “The stone will do its very best to conquer you—don’t let it. Only ever use its powers if your life depends on it. Every time you use the stone, it will tighten its hold over you. Be wise, Elliot. And be careful.”
It was good advice. Elliot pushed Thanatos’s oath to the back of his mind. It was best left there.
“Where shall I keep it?” asked Elliot, feeling a large diamond was probably against Boil’s “jewelry” rules.
“Hephaestus thought of that,” said Zeus. “Such a clever guy. Open your watch.”
Elliot opened it and saw that the lid had been divided into four equal parts.
“There you go,” said Zeus.
Elliot held the Earth Stone to the watch, wondering how it was going to fit, being at least ten times larger than the space allowed for it. But, as if hearing his thoughts, as soon as the diamond touched the watch, it shrank into its place, gleaming brightly as it filled a perfect quarter of the lid.
“We’ve still got three more stones to find,” said Elliot, tucking the watch back inside his pocket.
“Yes, we do,” said Zeus. “And after Christmas, we’ll start looking for the next one. And the one after that. We’ll beat Thanatos in the end, don’t you worry.”
Elliot said nothing, but desperately wanted to share
Zeus’s optimism.
“We’d better get back,” said Zeus. “Your mother wants to watch the Queen’s speech and so do I. She’s a fine-looking lady, that monarch of yours.”
“Be careful,” said Elliot. “She could ninja-kick you into the middle of next week.”
Zeus chortled happily as they set off back to the farm, where everyone had gathered around the TV on the plush armchairs. Virgo signaled to Elliot to come and sit by her.
“Listen,” she said nervously. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you. Something important.”
Elliot shuddered and gritted his teeth. Christmas brought out the mushy in people, and girls were the worst. He waited to hear Virgo’s heartfelt declaration of love and wondered how he was going to let her down gently.
She punched him in his right arm. Hard.
“You are such a gorgon fart,” she said.
“Shut up,” said Elliot.
“You shut up,” said Virgo, the two of them jostling on the sofa, neither seeing the smile on the other’s face.
“Shhh—it’s starting,” said Josie as the Queen took to the screen.
Elliot listened to Her Majesty’s good wishes for the following year with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he had no idea what it would bring. The Gods were a huge help, but Mom’s health wasn’t getting any better. Thanatos wouldn’t be happy until the Chaos Stones were his and Elliot was dead at his feet. The Gods could only protect him so far, and Elliot knew that he was going to have to keep his wits about him if he wanted to be here next Christmas.
But for the first time in a long time, Elliot felt traces of hope. He had spent so much of his life facing an uncertain future that he knew he could handle it. And now he had something he had never had before. Whatever life had in store, whatever the future held, Elliot Hooper knew that he would face it with his friends.
A knock at the door reverberated through the house.
“Whoever could that be?” said Zeus. “Did someone forget to shut the gate again? I’d better go.”
Hauling his bulk off the sofa, he padded out of the room to the front door. The others listened intently, poised for action as he unlatched the lock and pulled the creaking door open.