by Joan Holub
All ten students on Poseidon’s and Athena’s teams stared at her in horror. The long-ago war between the Titans and the Olympians had been terrible. Led by Zeus, however, the Olympians had prevailed in the end.
“Well, that doesn’t sound good,” said Hades, finally breaking the tension.
“I thought you couldn’t make predictions without the omphalos,” Athena said to the Oracle.
“It is not a new prediction. I have seen it before,” Pythia replied. Then she tugged her hood to shadow her face again. “That is all. You are right. My gift of prophecy is indeed gone.”
“So you don’t know who our opponents in this coming battle will be?” Poseidon pushed.
Her hooded head shook back and forth.
“I’m guessing that’s a no,” murmured Panacea, Athena’s teammate.
“The Titans are our greatest enemies. You don’t suppose that—” said Dionysus.
“No,” interrupted Hades. “They didn’t steal the omphalos. They’re all safely locked up in Tartarus, remember?” He and Heracles were now kneeling with their eyes pressed along the crack in the floor, trying to see into the depths of the earth.
Heracles poked his club into the big hole the fist had made and moved it around, testing to see if he could locate anything or anyone. With a sigh, he stood, appearing to give up on finding any clues down there. “Yeah, that’s what we thought about Typhon, though,” he reminded Hades. “But he still somehow managed to escape.”
Amphitrite shuddered. Everyone had heard about Typhon, even the merpeople. He was a monster made of whirling tornado-strength winds that had escaped from imprisonment in Tartarus not long ago. Tartarus was said to be the most awful place in the Underworld, where only the truly evil wound up. And he’d turned out to be evil, all right. He had ravaged many lands before attacking Mount Olympus Academy, too.
According to Pheme’s column in Teen Scrollazine, the goddessgirl Iris had bravely helped Zeus recapture the monster. Now Typhon was imprisoned in a new, secret location where he could never make trouble again.
“Hey, where is everyone?” asked Pandora, looking toward the sanctuary exit. “Why didn’t the other teams come back?”
“They were farther ahead when we left, so maybe they didn’t notice the shaking,” suggested Delphinius.
“Or maybe they’ve already figured out the clue and gone ahead to the next temple,” said Poseidon, sounding seriously worried. “C’mon. We should all get back to the games too.”
“You want to continue with the Temple Games when we’re under attack?” asked Amphitrite, astounded.
“Maybe we should discuss all this with the other teams,” Harmonia said quickly. “Get their agreement in calling the games off for now.”
“Well, I’m captain of my team, not you,” Poseidon told her hotly. “And I say the games are still on for my team.” With that, he, Hades, and Delphinius put their heads together to discuss the Oracle’s original clue in low tones.
Amphitrite heard Athena speak to one of her teammates. “Panacea? Since Pheme can contact Principal Zeus with her scroll, would you go find her and ask her to message him about what’s happened? As if to reassure everyone, she added, “He’ll know what to do.”
The very second Panacea departed, the Oracle piped up again, drawing everyone’s attention. “Just remembered one last thing. Gaia is angry.”
“Who’s Gaia?” Pandora asked, cocking her head as she tried to place the somewhat familiar name.
“Goddess of the Earth,” Hades replied in dark, ominous tones. “She’s kind of moldy-smelling and is always hanging out around the River Styx that borders the Underworld. I’m pretty sure she encouraged Typhon to attack MOA.”
Heracles frowned. “Why would she do that?”
“Because she’s his mom,” said Hades, which caused several students’ eyes to widen in surprise. “And the Oracle’s right about her being angry. Gaia is always ranting about how the Titans deserved to beat us in the Titan-Olympian war.”
Quick footsteps sounded as three temple priests rushed in. Their faces paled at the damage they saw, and they scurried to the Oracle’s side to make sure she was all right.
“Out, everyone. Shoo!” said the priest who had earlier welcomed the students to the temple. “Now!”
As Amphitrite hastened to leave along with everyone else, a tiny rock lodged in her sandal. Before she could bend to get it out, Athena fell into step with her.
“Poseidon’s right, you know,” Athena offered as they walked quickly. “Thanks to Zeus’s magical scroll-gadgets, the whole world is watching. We don’t want to panic anyone. So until we hear from him with other instructions, I agree we should get on with the competition.”
Pandora caught up to walk with them on Amphitrite’s other side. “You okay, Thetis? You’re limping. Were you hurt in the quake back there?”
“No, I’m fine,” said Amphitrite. “Just got something in my sandal is all.” She paused, pressing one hand against the wall for balance as she pulled the little rock from her sandal.
When she straightened, she saw that Athena was staring hard at her. “You’re Thetis? Of-the-Sea? Daughter of Nereus?” she asked.
“Mm-hm. That’s me.” The lie was coming more easily, but Amphitrite grew a little nervous at Athena’s disbelieving expression. They hadn’t actually been officially introduced earlier in the courtyard, but what if Athena knew her sister somehow? Or had seen a drawing of her somewhere? Had she guessed that Amphitrite was an imposter? Shivering shrimps! This must be how Pandora felt all the time, her brain whirling with questions.
“Sorry for staring,” said Athena as they all hurried off again. “It’s just that Aphrodite and I were assigned two kindergarten buddies named Thetis and Amphitrite from Mediterranean Undersea Kindergarten when their class visited MOA earlier this year. But they were just five years old, so . . .”
Relieved laughter bubbled up from Amphitrite’s throat. “Those were—” she started to say.
But her words trailed off as they stepped out of the temple and into the sunlight and she suddenly realized why none of the other five teams had come back inside the sanctuary. Priests and guards were standing at the temple entrance. They had blocked the other teams from reentering, leaving them to hang around outside.
She, Athena, and Pandora were last out, and their teams were waiting at the bottom of the temple steps. Under Poseidon’s frowning gaze, Harmonia was busy telling the other teams what had happened inside. He couldn’t exactly stop her, though, since she wasn’t on his team.
“I started to tell you that those were my little sisters you met,” Amphitrite continued to Athena as the three girls rushed down the stairs. “There are fifty of us in my family, so our parents took the easy way out and gave some of us the same names. You met Amphitrite Two and Thetis Two. I’m Am—” Amphitrite barely caught herself in time. Again. She had to stop doing that! “I mean, I am Thetis One,” she finished.
“That explains it, then,” said Athena, smiling as they joined the others in the courtyard.
“My sisters talked about you all the time after their visit,” Amphitrite added. “Still do. They adore you and Aphro—”
“Excuse me? Can we get back to important matters?” asked Poseidon, overhearing.
“Like the games?” Hades hinted pointedly.
Athena blinked at them, and then her expression turned determined as she refocused herself on the competition at hand. “Oh yeah. Right.”
Amphitrite couldn’t believe it. Didn’t either of these two team captains see that there were bigger things to worry about now than winning a game? Apparently not. As the others went on speaking, she opened her fist. She still had the forgotten pebble she’d pulled from her sandal, and now held it up to study it. With a fingertip, she brushed away the light layer of dust coating it. Underneath it was a lustrous, pale golden color, and perfectly round. It wasn’t a rock at all. It was a pearl!
Before anyone could see, she quickly stuck it
in her pocket (which was now in the skirt of her chiton), her mind racing. She hadn’t come looking for pearls. But this one had found her by getting lodged in her sandal back in the sanctuary. It seemed more than a coincidence. What did it mean? Could it possibly have come from the legendary enchanted strand? Maybe there were more pearls in the sanctuary somewhere. If so, that would explain why treasure-hunters who had searched for the legendary strand in the sea had never found it.
Just think! If she could locate the entire magical strand, there would be enough pearls for all forty-nine of her sisters. They could each make their own dearest wish come true. “And my wish would be to be able to live on land or sea!” she murmured under her breath.
She glanced up at the temple behind her. Unfortunately, the grouchy-looking guards at its front doors didn’t look like they’d be up for letting her back in to look for more pearls. Not right now, anyway.
“Hello?” grumped Poseidon, drawing the attention of nearby students. “In case you haven’t noticed, Artemis’s team has left Delphi already. They must’ve figured out the riddle and gotten a head start on us.”
Anxious murmurs arose among his team members. “We need to focus,” Poseidon said, gesturing at them to huddle up. “Figure out our first destination. Until Zeus tells us otherwise, the games are on.”
At that moment, Panacea finished speaking to Pheme as Athena had requested, and was passing by on her way to rejoin her team.
“Hey! I just remembered something I was going to say before. It’s about the Oracle’s clue,” said Amphitrite, not bothering to keep her voice down. Stopping Panacea, she said, “Remember when we met in the courtyard, you told me how your whole name means a cure for all things? And that the ‘pan’ part of your name is the Greek word for ‘all’ like in the Oracle’s clue?”
Pandora cocked her head curiously. “I wonder what my name means, then?”
Panacea opened her mouth as if planning to answer, but Poseidon interrupted her. “Focus! This is no time for discussions of word origins,” he said in exasperation. He looked at Amphitrite. “Why did you think the word ‘pan’ might be important?”
“Because there’s a temple in Rome, Italy, called the Pantheon. The word means “all divine” because it’s a temple dedicated to all Roman gods, not just one.” Then suddenly she got excited, because she’d just remembered something else about that particular temple. “And it has a big open hole in its roof called an oculus!”
“Oculus. Like an eye!” said Athena, brightening. Amphitrite glanced around, realizing that all talk among the six teams that were still there had ceased, and she and Athena now had everyone’s attention.
Heracles nodded. “An eye in the temple roof. So water could rain in during a storm.”
“Which would make it look sort of like the temple was crying!” Amphitrite finished.
The other students stared at her, stunned. “How did you know—” Poseidon began.
She shrugged. “I read a lot, mostly about travel and adventure stuff. We have tons of sea scrolls scavenged from shipwrecks in our school library with all kinds of useful information about the world.”
Pheme was writing on her scroll-gadget again. As everyone realized that Amphitrite had solved the Oracle’s riddle, there was a sudden flurry of activity. Students began readying their various means of transportation to head for the city of Rome.
Teams took off, flying by chariot, cart, winged mount, winged sandal, or under the power of their own wings. Amphitrite watched Athena loosen the straps on her sandals to free the silver wings at her heels. Instantly the wings began to flutter and flap, causing the goddessgirl to rise and hover about six inches above the ground. Then she zoomed higher and away.
Amphitrite looked back at the temple door and sighed. The guards were still there. She’d have to wait till another time to get past them and search for more pearls.
“Let’s go!” called Poseidon. He lifted off, as did the remaining teams.
Hurriedly, Amphitrite bent down and unleashed the wings on her sandals, just as she’d seen Athena do. But nothing happened. The sandals’ wings remained stubbornly still. “C’mon, you dumb sandals. Let’s go. What’s wrong with you?” she scolded them.
Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed hers. “Whoa!” she yelled. And just like that, she lifted off the ground and was pulled skyward!
“Only immortals can make the winged sandals work,” Poseidon told her briskly. “So you’ll need to keep hold of my hand.”
Not needing to be told twice, especially with the ground zipping beneath her at a furious speed, Amphitrite held on tight.
6
First Challenge
Poseidon
POSEIDON SWOOPED DOWN AND GRABBED Thetis’s hand when he saw that she was unable to make her winged sandals fly. At his immortal touch, the wings on her sandals began to flutter, then flap.
“Whoa!” she said, sounding nervous. As they rose higher over Greece, her hand gripped his tightly, and she also clasped his arm with the fingers of her other hand. The wind whistled in his ears as he whisked them both away toward Rome.
After a few minutes, she calmed enough to smile up at him. “This is fun! And I’m not a bit scared.”
Surprised by the happy gleam in her turquoise eyes, he grinned down at her. “Then why are you cutting off my circulation?” he couldn’t resist asking. His eyes moved pointedly to her white-knuckled fingers digging into his arm. Laughing that bubbly laugh of hers, she loosened her grip a little, then let go. But her other hand still clasped his extra tight.
“No need to worry,” he assured her. “As long as we’re holding hands, your winged sandals will keep you aloft.”
“Well, that’s handy,” she joked, giggling.
He smiled again, raising an eyebrow. She had a fun side that he was only just now beginning to appreciate. “I’m kind of surprised you can’t fly on your own. Your dad’s a god,” he said.
“My mom’s not a goddess though,” she told him, her eyes on the scenery below. “She’s half mortal, half mermaid.”
“At least you’ve been able to swim and walk since you were a little kid, right?” he said. “That’s two modes of transportation, anyway.”
She shot him an uneasy glance, then looked away. “Uh, yeah.”
What was that about? he wondered. But he often found girls hard to comprehend. And besides, he had other important stuff to think about right now. As they sped on, they saw other teams in the distance. All were moving in the same direction—northwestward toward Rome. However, none drew near enough to chat. Like him, they were focused on one goal—winning.
“Look—merpeople!” Thetis said a few minutes later. She was gazing raptly at the Ionian Sea below, which lay between Greece and Italy, north of the Mediterranean. Poseidon could see the flip of their tails when she pointed them out to him. There were pink-tailed ones, silver-tailed ones—tails in almost every color of the rainbow, in fact. Some of the mergirls peeked out to wave, and Thetis waved back.
“Could we go down there?” she asked him. “I could really use a quick dip. I’m starting to feel like I’m drying out.”
“I can fix that,” said Poseidon. With his free hand, he twirled his trident above his head like a baton and said a quick magic spell:
“Water from the sea,
Rise up to me!
And fill prongs three.”
Right away, the trident’s three pronged tips began sprinkling Thetis with cool drops of saltwater that he’d somehow magically drawn up from the sea below. Startled by the sudden wet drops, she let go of his hand. “Help!” she cried out as she began to fall.
Like a shot, Poseidon raced down to catch her with his free arm. Once he had her in hand again, he threaded his fingers with hers to make it harder for their hands to slip apart. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess I should’ve warned you before I did that. But those saltwater sprinkles will protect you for another twenty-four hours.”
“Thanks,” she said, still sounding brea
thless from her fall. “For the sprinkles and the rescue.” Then her eyes flicked to something beyond him.
Following her gaze, Poseidon noticed that Ares’ chariot, which had been far behind them a while ago, was now drawing near. Had he and his team seen what had just happened? Kind of embarrassing, because he and the guys prided themselves on not dropping those they winged sandal-transported.
“How did you do that trident sprinkle trick?” Thetis asked, pulling his attention back to her. “Is it something I could learn?” She stared at his trident eagerly.
He shook his head. “It’s a spell I developed. Took me a year to get it right, and it only works for me, since I rule the seas.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “I have a trident at home. It’s the same turquoise color as my hair and all glittery. Not as big or powerful as yours, but I was kind of hoping you could teach me to do that same spell. Then my sisters and I would be free to travel on land as well as sea for as long as we liked without ever getting landsick.”
She looked so wistful that Poseidon found himself wishing he could make that happen for her. But the only god with that kind of power was Zeus, and he didn’t grant such favors lightly.
“Ooh! Look at all the people down there,” Thetis exclaimed, suddenly cheerful again. They were flying over the country of Italy now, about a hundred feet or so above cozy villages, winding roads, and green hills. Having heard about the competition, mortals covered the hillsides and stood in village streets below, waving signs and cheering them on.
Thetis waved back, blowing kisses left and right. Poseidon was used to being adored by mortals—took it for granted, in fact—but her enthusiasm was catching.
“Hey, you’re not excited or anything, are you?” he teased.
A long strand of turquoise hair had blown across her cheek, and she pulled it away, tucking it behind one ear. “You bet your trident I am! Plus, everything is so beautiful from up here. I never realized. I guess it’s nothing new to you, though.”