Zeus's Eagle

by Lucy Coats

  Demon bit off a cry of pain and fear, and then there was a long moment of chaos as Golden Dog jumped up against the huge feathery beast, barking frantically.

  “Friend! Friend! Friend!” he yelped as Eagle flapped and Demon was shaken this way and that like a piece of straw. Suddenly the chaos stopped. Demon fell to the floor and crawled to huddle up against the wall and count his bruises, as far away from the edge as he could get. It was a long way down! Golden Dog shielded him, his tail a whirling mass of fur and stars.

  “Friend!” he barked again as Eagle soared out into the blue nothingness above, wheeled and flew in again, crash-landing on a massive perch carved out of a single piece of marble.

  “What do you want?” the giant bird squawked, his terrifying golden eyes flashing red fire. “And how did you get past Hera?”

  Demon didn’t dare to speak, but Golden Dog’s jaws lolled open in a sharp-toothed grin.

  “I can get anywhere,” he barked. “And I wanted to see you, Old Beaky. So does this son of Pan. We need your help.”

  Eagle looked at Demon suspiciously. “What help?”

  Demon quickly explained about Psyche and Eros, yet again.

  “. . . and Amaltheia will die without the Water of Eternal Youth,” he finished.

  “That old goat,” Eagle said. “Is she really still around? Well, I suppose Zeus would want me to help her, and it’s not as if he needs me anywhere near him right now.” He bent down and snatched up a bloody bone, snapping it into tiny fragments with savage pleasure. “Wretched god. How does he think being a pigeon is going to impress some silly princess? It was bad enough when he turned into a cuckoo for Hera! To be honest with you, I’m bored out of my feathers sitting here doing nothing, and I haven’t had a good battle for ages.”

  Timidly, Demon held up the little bottle.

  “Talking of feathers, Chiron sent this for you,” he said. “Shall I put it on for you?” Eagle cocked his head and bent down toward Demon, who tried not to flinch.

  “Perhaps I shan’t eat you after all,” he said. “But I warn you now, if Zeus comes back and finds me missing, I can’t answer for the consequences for either of us. Are you willing to risk it?”

  Demon gulped. He didn’t really have a choice, did he?

  “Yes,” he said, visions of lightning bolts and tiny clouds of ash and dust fleeing through his head. “I am.”

  CHAPTER 9

  MAGIC WATERS

  Demon slid ungracefully off Eagle’s back, landing in a heap at Psyche’s feet. Golden Dog had done his usual vanishing act, saying he would meet them later.

  “I brought him, Your Divinity,” he said. “As requested.”

  Psyche seized him by the arm and pulled him up.

  “Does Zeus know?” she hissed in his ear.

  “I can hear you perfectly well, you know,” said Eagle. But, of course, she couldn’t understand him.

  “No,” said Demon. “Not yet. But we’d better hurry.”

  “Mind my feathers,” said Eagle as Demon gave the young goddess a boost up onto the great bird’s back and scrambled up behind her. The huge wings started to beat, and with a leap they were soaring upward.

  “Where exactly are we going?” Demon shouted as he clung to Psyche’s waist.

  “The source of the River Styx, of course,” she shouted back. “That’s where the spring is.”

  Demon’s heart did a great leap against his ribs, fluttering and banging like a moth in a jar. The River Styx flowed through Hades’s realm. He’d already been to the Underworld once, and he didn’t want to tangle with the King of the Dead again. Not for anything. But it was too late now. They were shooting through the blue sky like a lightning bolt, so fast that Demon didn’t even dare to open his eyes for fear that they would be blown out of his head. He should have known that Zeus’s Eagle would fly like no normal bird.

  “WHEEE!” Psyche shrieked. “This is fun! Go faster! Go faster!”

  Goddesses! Demon thought, clinging on even tighter. They’re all mad. But he didn’t say it out loud.

  Soon the pungent, medicinal scent of pine trees floated up from below, and the wind on Demon’s face slowed. He dared to crack one eye open and found that they were circling over a looming mountain, crowned with triple peaks of crumbly gray rock. At its foot were endless pinewoods, their dark green tops waving in the breeze. Eagle tucked in his wings for landing and dived toward a small break in the trees. Demon saw a golden flash of fur below, and then he and Psyche were tumbling off into a gloomy glade, surrounded on three sides by gnarled and ancient trees whose branches were festooned with beards of hanging gray moss.

  On the fourth side was a rocky archway, framed by crumbling blocks of stone. Demon squinted at the glowing green letters above it as Golden Dog pranced and wagged around them.

  “Death’s Last Sting Guards Youth’s Fair Spring,” he read aloud. “What does that mean?”

  “That!” barked the dog, running forward as a deafening hissing started in the darkness of the entrance. Six bright points of light blazed and flared, and then Demon saw it. A gigantic three-headed snake with diamond eyes slithered out of the cavern, the writhing green and silver coils of its body as thick as a hundred-year-old tree trunk. It was heading straight for them.

  Psyche screamed and hid behind Demon as Golden Dog barked and barked, trying to distract it. Then Eagle was in the air again, his talons reaching down to grab the enormous reptile behind the middle of its three heads, pulling it upward as he shrieked a challenge.

  “Look out!” Demon yelled, ducking as the twisting snake tail lashed out toward them. Psyche threw herself on top of him, taking him to the ground as it whistled over their heads, missing them by the width of a hydra’s eyelash. Then it was gone, up into the sky, with Eagle’s battle shrieks fading into the distance.

  Psyche scrambled off him, planting a foot right in the middle of his back.

  “Come on,” she said, her voice sharp and urgent. “We don’t have much time. Bring that dog with you.”

  Demon rolled over, struggling for breath, got up, and staggered after her. A horrible moaning and groaning came from within the cavern, making all the hairs on Demon’s body stand up like tiny ice needles.

  “Be careful,” whimpered Golden Dog as he slunk along behind Demon on his belly. “Don’t annoy the ghosts.”

  Demon stopped dead, just under the glowing green letters, one foot hovering over the threshold.

  “Ghosts?” he whispered. “What ghosts?” And then he saw them. On one side of the dark, damp cavern was a jostling line of spectral gray shapes, all clawing at each other and trying to crowd through a single narrow door. Right beside the door stood a spring, which oozed black oily water like treacle down the rocky wall and smelled like rotten eggs. That must be the source of the Styx! As Demon tiptoed in sideways, trying not to attract their attention, he saw that each moaning ghost held a small disc of copper, which it was waving in the air.

  “Charon’s obols,” he whispered. Charon was the old ferryman who rowed the souls of the dead across the Styx and into Hades’s realm—but he needed paying. Demon took a step toward them, but then Golden Dog’s jaws gently gripped his wrist, tugging him in the opposite direction. Demon turned his head and saw Psyche kneeling by another spring, filling a stoppered jug made of pink glass and decorated with cherubs. Unlike the Styx, this spring bubbled out of the ground into a small marble basin, clear and clean, and shining with a soft, rosy light like the palest dawn.

  Demon knelt down and pulled out his own bottle, taking out the cork and slipping it into the basin.

  “What are you doing?” asked Psyche.

  “Getting some for Chiron,” said Demon, putting the cork in again and ramming it down firmly. “He told me to.”

  “Well, don’t tell Aphrodite,” said Psyche. “She wants to be the only one to have it.” Then she gave Demon
a sly look. “Take a sip,” she said.

  Demon stared at her.

  “Wh-why?” he asked, too horrified to be polite.

  “I want to see what it does, of course, stupid,” she snapped. “And you’re young enough that it shouldn’t be noticeable.” Then she noticed Golden Dog, who already had his head in the basin, lapping.

  “Stop it, you idiot animal,” she said. But the dog drank on. All the burrs and tangles fell out of his coat, leaving it sleek and shining. He began to glow, and then, with a poof and a strong scent of jasmine flowers, he disappeared.

  “Oh well,” she said. “I guess that answers that question.”

  “What have you done?” Demon wailed, too upset to be careful. “Where has he gone?”

  As one, all the ghostly heads snapped around.

  “Oh no!” said Psyche. “Run!”

  Demon didn’t need telling twice. He ran—straight out into the unnatural darkness of a raging storm, with Psyche close behind him. Thunder crashed all around, and lightning lit up the three peaks of the mountain. Demon saw Eagle, his wings outlined with fire, drop the three-headed snake. The creature crashed onto the very topmost of the three pinnacles. Immediately it began to writhe and wriggle downward, back to its lair. There was no more time to worry about Golden Dog.

  “Eagle,” he cried. “Quick! Come and get us!”

  But instead, Eagle shot off toward the lightning. A piercing cry reached Demon from the clouds.

  “My master calls me! Find your own way home!”

  Frantically, Demon turned to Psyche, whose black hair hung in ropes around her wet face.

  “Eagle is summoned by Zeus and that snake is coming fast. Can you get us back to Olympus?” Please! he thought. Please say yes!

  But Psyche shook her head. Her eyes were very big and her face was very pale. He’d never seen a goddess look scared before—but then, she hadn’t been a goddess for very long.

  “My powers won’t be complete till I’ve finished my task,” she said through chattering teeth. “I . . . I can only do little things.”

  Demon thought fast.

  “IRIS!” he yelled. “IRIS! BOY AND GODDESS PSYCHE FOR OLYMPUS!”

  But Psyche was shaking her head again. “Iris won’t come,” she shouted. “Aphrodite forbade her to help me.”

  A particularly loud crash of thunder made them both put their hands over their ears, just before another sword of lightning slashed the sky open. Demon caught a glimpse of the snake, halfway down the mountain now. Its six diamond eyes were blazing like angry white fires.

  “Look!” he screamed. “It’s coming! We have to get off the mountain NOW!”

  Grabbing Psyche’s hand, he started to pelt downhill through the pine trees, his breath coming in short, panicky pants.

  Zeus was in a rage and the snake was, too.

  How were they ever going to escape?

  CHAPTER 10

  RAINY RESCUE

  Every time the lightning flashed, Demon fought the urge to cower down and burrow into the earth. Was it him the King of the Gods was angry with? Was Zeus toying with him, watching him run and run until he finally chose to strike him down? Psyche was ahead of him now, leaping over fallen logs like one of Artemis’s golden deer. Demon clutched at his pipes with one hand and tucked the little bottle of water more firmly into his tunic with the other.

  “Please, Dad,” he shouted into the storm. “Help us!” But there was no answer from Pan. He risked a glance over his shoulder. Was that a flash of diamond eyes in the trees behind? He held onto his pipes even harder. They were his one and only chance to stop the snake if it caught up to them.

  But snakes are deaf. It won’t work, said a panicky little voice in his head. He ignored it, brushing the stinging rain out of his eyes with his free hand. Something tickled his nose. It was the feather in the horsehair bracelet Pegasus had given him.

  His horsehair bracelet!

  What had Pegasus said? If you are ever in real danger, call me three times. I will come if I can.

  Well, if this wasn’t real danger, Demon didn’t know what was.

  “PEGASUS! PEGASUS! PEGASUS!” he screamed, his voice cracking on the third call.

  Psyche nearly fell as she looked back at him, her face screwed up with fear, stumbling to a halt. Then her eyes widened. She mouthed something Demon couldn’t hear and raised one arm, pointing, as she ran back toward him.

  He whirled around. The snake was in sight, all three sets of jaws open and its six sharp needle fangs dripping venom.

  Demon grasped his bracelet and called out one last, desperate time as Psyche reached him.

  “PEGASUS! PEGASUS! PEGASUS!” he yelled before he put his pipes to his mouth, ready to blow for both their lives.

  “STOP!” came a trumpeting call from the heavens. Then the big white horse was hovering above, wings outspread. He landed between them. “GRAB MY MANE!” he whinnied. Demon grabbed. With a dizzying whirl he found himself high up on Pegasus’s withers. He leaned down to Psyche.

  “Quick!” he said, holding out a hand.

  Psyche landed behind him just as the snake caught up with them and reared back to strike. Pegasus leaped into the air, beating his wings desperately. There was a rush of air by Demon’s foot and a burning sensation as a drop of venom hit his bare ankle. The snake had missed—but only just! Quickly, Offy and Yukus slithered down his body, their own snake tongues flickering as they lapped up the poison before it could do any harm. Demon was too exhausted to do more than tell their rescuer to head to Olympus. He slumped over Pegasus’s neck, exhausted, as they flew into the storm.

  The winged horse dodged through the clouds, jinking and swerving as the lightning bolts flew around them. Demon gripped with his knees and wound Pegasus’s mane around his fingers, trying desperately to cling on. He could feel Psyche shivering behind him as she hung on to his waist tighter than a griffin gripping its prey. Gradually, as they flew higher and higher, the storm grew gentler, until, as they landed outside Aphrodite’s palace, it had shrunk to a whirling mass of black clouds and noise around Zeus and Hera’s palace.

  Psyche slid down, her precious pink jug hugged to her chest. She put out a trembling hand and stroked Pegasus’s velvety nose as she looked up at Demon.

  “Thank you both,” she said. “And I owe you, Pandemonius. I’ll tell Hera how brave you were.” She straightened up, her face determined. “And I’ll speak to Zeus, too. If I have to. But before that, I must clean up and find Aphrodite. She has a wedding to plan.” With that, she turned and walked away through the pink marble doors to the love goddess’s palace.

  Demon wriggled into a more secure position and felt Pegasus flinch. Oh no! Had the snake venom got him, too? He peered down, trying to see.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  “Not so much,” the winged horse replied. “But the chimera burns aren’t too good.”

  “Are you strong enough to fly me back to Chiron’s cave? I can treat you properly there,” Demon said.

  “Yes,” said Pegasus. “My wings have been through worse than this.” They soared into the air again, then swooped downward toward the gray-green dot of Mount Pelion with its necklace of sand and sea.

  As soon as they landed, Demon leaped off Pegasus’s back.

  “I’ll be back to treat you in a minute,” he said as he ran into the cave, then skidded to a halt, taking in the situation at a glance. Chiron was lying down, holding a sleeping Hygeia in one arm, and stroking Amaltheia’s head with the other, humming a deep, soothing hum which filled the cave with peace. The ancient goat’s horns had fallen off and her body had shrunk to nothing but skin and bones. The little bottle of green liquid was lying on its side, empty, and the whole cave was strewn with half-full bowls of herbs and concoctions. In the corner stood the magic medicine box, tipped over and with a huge hoof-shaped dent in its side. I
t was emitting a low whine, and a stream of crackling red sparks poured out of one corner.

  The centaur god said nothing, but shook his head sadly, still humming. Demon wanted to cry. Had he gone through all this for nothing? Was he too late? No! Surely not. Surely that was a tiny flicker of Amaltheia’s eyelid? He was not going to give up now. He would cure her. He would!

  Demon ripped the bottle of water out of his tunic and took out the cork with his teeth. Lifting the old goat’s hairy lip with his thumb, he began to dribble in the Water of Eternal Youth.

  “Come on,” he muttered. “Come on, old goat. I’ve been nearly cut in two by an eagle, chased by a mad snake, and made your Zeusie nearly obliterate Olympus with a storm. You can’t let me down now. You have to live.”

  He felt a large hand squeeze his shoulder. “Time to let her go, young healer.”

  But Demon shook his head.

  “No!” he said. “It’s got to work. It’s got to.” And as he said the words, something amazing happened. It was as if spring herself had laid a blanket of new health over the old goat. Her hair began to sprout, flesh appeared on her bones, and a brand-new set of curling horns erupted from her head, silver like the rays of the moon. Streams of golden milk began to flow from her udders as she leaped up with a great MEH of surprise, capering around the cave as if she was a newborn kid, sending bowls flying and milk spraying everywhere, before heading outside with bleats and leaps of joy.

  Chiron let out such a roar of laughter that Hygeia woke with a wail.

  “No more crying for you, little one,” he said, tossing her in the air and catching her again. “There’s enough milk now to feed a hundred babies, let alone a little shrimp like you!”