by Lucy Coats
He had no more time to think, though, as long rainbow arms seized him by the neck of his tunic and dumped him like a naughty puppy onto the earth in front of his mom’s door. As he got up from his knees, he could hear a familiar sort of wailing on the other side. He pushed the door open cautiously.
There was his mom, bending over not one but TWO toddlers, a boy and a girl, who were both bawling their eyes out. Who on Zeus’s earth were they?
“Oh, Demon,” said his mom, looking up and rushing over with tears in her eyes to give him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. This is your new twin brother and sister, Ajax and Agatha. We’ve got to get them away. Those awful horses have already eaten two fauns and five of Old Demos’s chickens. They’re rampaging round the whole village now, trying to get into the houses. Listen!”
Mouth hanging open at hearing the surprising news that he had new siblings, Demon listened.
Just over the hill and coming closer was a terrible cacophony of neighing, along with the clatter of galloping hooves. Demon knew his mom couldn’t understand it, but he could.
“Man-meat,” the horses were screaming. “We want man-meat!”
CHAPTER 5
MAN-EATING MARES
A freezing finger of fear slid down Demon’s spine. His family was in danger, and he was the only one who could save them! He knew what to do.
“Stay there, Mom! Lock the door after me, and hide! Don’t come out till you hear silence,” he said, and dived outside again, ignoring his mom’s distressed cries from inside.
There was no time to be afraid. Putting aside all the questions in his head about his mom’s new family, Demon pulled his silver pipes out and ran toward the racket. Four beautiful chestnut mares were rearing and battering their hooves against the earth walls of the neighboring house, which were beginning to crumble. Whistle-screams of terror came from inside, and Demon remembered that the blacksmith, Filippos, had two little girls.
“Hey!” he shouted, his heart beating faster than a rainstorm on leaves. “Over here!” Immediately, the horses’ heads whipped around. Their lips were drawn back over sets of sharp white teeth, dripping with bloody red foam. As they began to pelt down the dusty road toward him, Demon took a deep breath and blew a massive blast on his dad’s pipes. But still they came on, so mad and raging with hunger for man-flesh that he knew they couldn’t hear him. Demon blew and blew, but it was only when they were close enough that he could see their eyes that he tried one last desperate move—the new twiddle that his dad had taught him before he left for the Mountains of Burning Sand.
As if a taut rope had been strung in front of them, the four horses crashed to their knees and fell down, dead asleep at his feet, strings of red spittle from their jaws soaking into the dust of the road. Demon stared, wild-eyed, at the remains of golden bridles on their heads as he started to put his pipes away. His hand trembled and shook, making it hard to get them into his tunic. That had been very close indeed! He wasn’t sure that even Offy and Yukus could have mended him if he’d been chomped to pieces.
“Oh, Demon,” his mom cried, running out from the house, a twin under each arm. “Are you all right? I was so worried—you shouldn’t have—”
But Demon interrupted her. “Where did they come from, Mom?” he asked, pointing at the twins.
His mother blushed. “Oh, well . . . you know . . . me and your dad.” She stopped and cleared her throat. “Me and your dad have been seeing a bit of each other, and Agatha and Ajax came along last summer.” She looked at Demon. “I got lonely when you left.”
“Oh, Mom,” he said, and ran over to hug her and the twins. “I’m sorry I haven’t been home, it’s just . . .”
“I know,” she said, laughing. “Your dad told me all about it. You’ve been busy with those beasts of yours. And being Chiron’s apprentice.” Her voice went a bit wobbly. “We’re so proud of you, son.”
“Ee-on,” said Ajax, pointing at Demon.
“Oss,” said Agatha, pointing at the four beasts on the ground.
“Ahem!” said a deep voice behind them. Demon turned around. Filippos the blacksmith and his wife, Hekuba, were standing there with large hammers over their shoulders, while their daughters stared at the horses with wide, round eyes.
“What are you going to do with them now that you’ve knocked them out cold, lad?” Filippos asked.
“Take them up to Olympus,” Demon said. “If I can get them onto the Iris Express.” If Iris will even come and get me, he thought. Hekuba tapped him on the shoulder as the other villagers straggled down the dusty road and began to crowd around the unconscious beasts, staring and exclaiming.
“Begging your mom’s pardon, but we leave the gods alone, and they leave us alone, except on the big festival days at the temple, of course,” she said, eyeing the blue sky above, and gripping her hammer more tightly. “They live up there, and we live down here, and that’s how we like it. We don’t want no Iris Express here.”
The villagers murmured nervously in agreement.
Demon understood. He’d felt much the same when he first got to Olympus.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’ll only take a moment, then we’ll be gone.” He frowned, looking down at the unconscious mares. “How did these four get here, anyway?”
There was a chorus of replies.
“It was that hero!”
“Ran off, he did.”
“That Heracles had no business leaving them tied up here,” said Filippos, his big voice booming out over the noisy crowd. “They bit through their ropes in no time, even though they were made of gold.”
“Heracles,” said Demon, clenching his fists. “HERACLES was here? Where is he, the beastly bully?” He peered around as if Heracles might be hiding under a bush.
“Said King Eurystheus didn’t want them,” said Hekuba. “Told us he was off to find a new home for them and he’d be back soon. But it’s been a whole day, so I reckon he’s just dumped them on us. Wait till I see him again—I’ll give him a taste of this!” She shook her hammer in the air.
“Never mind that silly hero,” said Demon’s mom, stopping Agatha from crawling up to explore a chestnut mare. “He’s not coming back, and Demon needs our help.” She turned to him. “Call your Iris Express and we’ll all help lift the horses on for you. The sooner they’re away from here, the better.”
The crowd oohed and aahed and chattered as Demon closed his eyes, his hand on his pipes. Please, your Dadness. Let Iris come, he begged silently.
“Iris,” he called softly. Nothing happened. The villagers were all looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat. There was nothing for it. He would have to shout and take the consequences.
“IRIS!” he yelled. “IRIS EXPRESS FOR ONE BOY, FOUR BEASTS! OLYMPUS-BOUND!”
The rainbow roared down out of the sky, making the villagers jump back, murmuring in awed voices. Demon glanced behind him. They were all on their knees with their heads bowed, even Hekuba.
“Now that’s the kind of reception I like,” purred Iris. The villagers all gasped. Demon supposed it was strange to hear a rainbow talk, even if she was really a goddess. “You could learn a thing or two from these good people, Pandemonius,” she said, her tone changing.
“I’m very sorry, Iris,” Demon said. “But we do need to get these four up to Olympus. They can’t stay down here.”
“If there’s even one tiny bit of horse poo anywhere near me when we land, I will drop you into Hephaestus’s volcano, I really will.”
“There won’t be, I promise,” said Demon, crossing his fingers. Surely horses didn’t poo when they were asleep. Did they?
Iris snorted. She didn’t sound convinced.
A team of willing, but slightly scared, villagers, headed by Filippos and Hekuba, hauled the four mares on board the rainbow.
“Don’t leave it till there’s another emergency,
” said Demon’s mom, giving him a hug. He felt a lump fill his throat, so it was hard to speak.
“I wish I could stay longer,” he said as the twins began to wail. “I’ll come back to visit as soon as I can.”
“I know you will, son. Now go and sort out those beasts. Try not to get eaten.”
He smiled, the corners of his mouth a little wobbly. It was hard to leave his mom again, but he had no choice.
“I’ll do my best,” he said, stepping onto the rainbow. “Bye, Mom!”
The four mares lay on the grass, still sleeping. Iris had used her rainbow arms to roll them out as gently as she could, and now it was up to Demon to deal with them. He stood, looking down at the two big beasts, wondering where to put them—and how to get them to the stables. If he woke them up, they’d start eating the nymphs, or the other beasts, and he couldn’t have that. He couldn’t ask Hestia for any more meat, either. Getting that lamb for the griffin had been hard enough.
“What am I going to do?” he said aloud.
“Do about what?” said a cheerful and familiar voice behind him. It was Hermes, god of thieves and messenger to the gods. As Demon explained his problem, Hermes frowned and scratched his head.
“I see your point, young Pandemonius. Can’t have them eating the nymphs, and certainly not the gods,” he said. Demon shuddered. He hadn’t even thought of the gods being eaten. What sort of trouble would he be in if they took a chunk out of Hera?
“What you really need is for them to act like normal horses,” said the god.
Demon nodded. “But how—”
“Don’t worry,” said Hermes, his white teeth flashing in a godly grin. “I’ve just had one of my more brilliant ideas! Hang on—I’ll be back in two shakes of a nymph’s polishing cloth.” He clapped his invisibility hat on his head and disappeared.
Before Demon had time to do more than open his mouth to ask where Hermes was going, he was back. Beside him stood a strange being, all long thin arms and legs, and eyes like pools of deep water. It seemed to be wrapped in a cloak made of darkness and shadows, and in its hand it bore a torch of black-and-gold flame.
“Pandemonius, meet Morpheus. Morpheus, meet Pandemonius,” Hermes said.
“Delighted,” said the being in a soft, soothing voice that made Demon want to curl up under his spider-silk blanket and sleep forever. His eyes drooped, and his mouth opened in an enormous yawn as he sank to the ground. Who on Zeus’s earth was Morpheus? And how could . . . he . . . help?
CHAPTER 6
PSYCHE’S PROMISE
A blast of icy air hit him in the face. “Wha—” he spluttered, eyelashes thick with frost as he floated up from a dream of honey cakes.
“Wake up,” said Hermes irritably as Demon sat up with a jerk. The shadowy being was still standing there.
“What happened?” Demon asked, wrapping his arms around himself to get warm.
“You fell asleep,” said the god. “Morpheus has that effect on people. He’s the spirit of dreams. I’ve protected you now, so it shouldn’t happen again.”
Demon’s tummy rumbled loudly. He looked at Morpheus.
“Was that you, putting honey cakes in my dream?” he asked the spirit. “Now I’m starving.”
Morpheus laughed. It sounded like a bell tolling.
“I only work with what’s there already,” he said. “Now, what is your desire?”
Demon gestured to the four sleeping beasts.
“I need to make these four act like normal horses,” he said. “At the moment, all they want to do is eat everyone.” He frowned. “But I still don’t see how Hermes thinks you can help.”
“Who better than I?” Morpheus asked. “Who else can reach deep into their heads and give them permanent dreams of hay and peace?”
Demon stared.
“Can you really?” he asked.
Morpheus nodded. “But there will be a price.”
Demon stifled a sigh. There always seemed to be a price.
“Well, as long as it’s not turning me into charcoal,” he said. “What do I have to do?”
The spirit reached inside his billowing shadow cloak and pulled out a shiny black crystal.
“This is a dream catcher,” he said, handing it to Demon. “You will keep it with you always, for the next year, and at the end of that time I shall come to collect it. Everything you would have dreamed, good or bad, will be inside it.”
Demon looked at the crystal. It seemed to have rainbows moving around deep within it, and it felt curiously squidgy.
“What will you use it for?” he asked.
“Mending the holes in my cloak,” said Morpheus, spreading it out to show ragged holes in the shadows. “The nightmares tear at it, you see.”
“All right then.” Demon tucked the crystal in beside his dad’s pipes as Morpheus bent over the mares, whispering in their ears as he stroked his torch over their heads. Demon stepped forward, but Hermes held him back.
“Don’t interfere,” he said quietly. “They won’t be burned. Morpheus carries only cold flame.”
As Demon watched, the mares relaxed visibly, going limp as wet seaweed. Morpheus beckoned to him.
“Play your pipes,” he whispered. “Wake them.”
Demon pulled out his pipes for the second time that day and blew the wake-up call, praying to every god on Olympus that whatever Morpheus had done had worked. Slowly, sleepily, the mares’ eyes opened. Morpheus waved his torch in front of them in a strange, rhythmic movement, murmuring and swaying gently in a way that made Demon want to go to sleep again.
“Keep playing and don’t look,” said Hermes. So Demon did, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on their sixteen hooves. Suddenly, with a scramble of legs, the four mares heaved themselves to their feet. Demon took in a sharp breath, making the pipes squeal horribly.
“You can stop now,” said Morpheus. “They’re fine.” Slowly, the mares came over to Demon on wobbly legs. They lipped at his arms gently.
“Hello,” they whinnied. “Who are you? We’re Swift, Shining, Yellow, and Terrible. Where’s the hay? We’re hungry.”
“I’m Pandemonius. Follow me,” he said, letting out the breath he’d been holding with a whoosh. “And welcome to Olympus.”
Having said good-bye to Hermes and Morpheus and thanked them, he settled the mares into stalls in the stables and gave them each a pile of sun hay to munch on. But he soon noticed they were having difficulty eating with their pointed teeth. He fetched a rasp from the cupboard.
“I think I need to file those down a bit,” he said. As he worked, the mares told him their story.
“Our master, King Diomedes, was a cruel giant,” Swift told him. “We were born hungry, and he starved us till we would have eaten anything. Then he filed our teeth sharp. He bound us to bronze mangers, and fed us criminals and traitors till blood and man-flesh were the only things we could think about. After years and years, Heracles came. He killed our master and freed us, but then he tied our mouths up with golden bridles and ropes, and dragged us before a king who lived in a jar. But the king didn’t seem to want us, so Heracles dragged us away again and tied us to trees in that village where you found us.”
“He beat us with whips,” neighed Terrible. “We tried to escape, but he was too strong for us. And then, when he left us, we were so hungry.”
Yellow nuzzled Demon. “We’re sorry we ate the fauns.”
“And the chickens,” whinnied Shining.
Demon leaned against Yellow, almost unable to speak for the anger that filled him.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly. “You’re here now. You’re safe.”
He stumbled out of the stables, his fists clenched. How dare Diomedes turn those horses into meat-eaters? How dare horrible Heracles tie them up and beat them? What had they ever done to him? He walked toward a little grove of trees, nee
ding some peace and quiet to calm down by himself.
“One day I’ll get even with you, Heracles,” he growled as he entered the cool green of the grove and headed for his favorite stone bench by a willow. Then he stopped. The bench was already occupied by a hunched-over figure dressed all in white and gold. He could hear muffled sobs. Oh no! It was the newest goddess, Psyche. Why was she crying? He turned around, intending to tiptoe away. It was never a good idea to be around an upset goddess. Dreadful things could happen. He put one cautious foot in front of the other, but he hadn’t gone more than three steps before an imperious voice rang out behind him.
“Stop!” it said, sniffling a bit. “Come here.”
Reluctantly, Demon turned around again, dragging his feet as he approached the goddess. Her black hair was all messy, her nose was bright red at the tip, and her deep blue eyes were swollen and pink around the edges. She reached out and grabbed him by the ears, bringing him up close, so that she was glaring right into his face.
“If you EVER tell anyone you saw me looking like this, boy,” she hissed, “I will tell Aphrodite you put beast poo in her nightie drawer.”
Demon blinked. As goddess threats went, he’d had worse. “I won’t, your Divine Weepiness. I promise,” he said, trying to back away. But Psyche’s grip only tightened, and her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“You’re Pandemonius the Beast Keeper, aren’t you? Pan’s son?”
Demon nodded with difficulty.
“A little birdie told me that you haven’t been doing your job properly,” she said, an unpleasantly sly note creeping into her voice. At this, Demon forgot to be careful.
“Who told you that?” he asked, struggling to get free. “It’s not true. It’s NOT.”
“Be silent, stable boy,” said Psyche, making a little twisting gesture with her hand. Immediately, Demon’s tongue froze to the top of his mouth. She pushed him down onto the bench and stalked around him, intermittently sniffing and wiping her nose with a dainty lace hankie.