Amphitrite the Bubbly

by Joan Holub

  Next stop: The Temple of Uppsala in Sweden, for challenge two.

  Good luck, teams!

  You’ll . . .

  Suddenly, Zeus’s message began to break up. A map to Uppsala appeared at the bottom of Poseidon’s scroll, but the lines and labels on it were faint. He looked around and saw that everyone seemed to be having the same problem. Luckily, before the maps disappeared completely, he and the other captains were all able to trace the route to the next temple.

  “I hope Zeus fixes those technical bugs soon,” said Medusa. Her snakes nodded in agreement.

  No other team was eliminated this round, since Artemis’s had already been disqualified for showing up at the wrong place. Still, Poseidon had racked up the very first win, and others came by to congratulate him. It felt great! As the students who had been measuring outside filed in after learning the news of his team’s win, each sent him a thumbs-up or came over to pay tribute to him.

  “Let’s get going,” Poseidon told his team after a few minutes. “We don’t want anyone else to—” He broke off when the Pantheon suddenly began shaking and quaking.

  “It’s happening again!” said Thetis, looking scared. “Just like at Delphi.”

  “A real earthquake this time?” Pandora asked, her eyes wide.

  “No, it’s the roof that’s shaking, not the ground,” called Athena, gazing upward.

  “It sounds like ginormous feet are stomping around up there,” said Iris.

  Suddenly the pounding stopped. “Fee Fi Fo Fum! Fear us, Olympians. Here we come!” an army of deep voices shouted down from above.

  Along with everyone else, Poseidon was looking up when a huge eyeball appeared and stared down at the students through the hole in the ceiling.

  Thetis gasped. “Is that a . . . giant?”

  7

  Giant Trouble

  Amphitrite

  AMPHITRITE STUMBLED BACK IN SURPRISE as actual giants began leaping through the oculus down into the Pantheon. There were five of them. Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Their feet hit the marble floor so hard that it shook when they landed.

  Knocked off balance by the shaking, the students stumbled and bumped into one another, some falling to their knees. It was mass confusion!

  “You okay?” asked a voice.

  Amphitrite pushed back her hair to see Poseidon offering his hand. Though her legs had been getting stronger, they’d been no match for the wobbling floor, and she’d fallen. She nodded up at him as she took his hand, and he pulled her to stand.

  “We’re surrounded,” one of the Chinese goddesses on Medusa’s team murmured shakily.

  Hearing the fear in her voice, Amphitrite reached out and gave her a hug, just like she would’ve done for one of her little sisters. She hoped Poseidon wouldn’t mind her comforting members of an opposing team. After all, it seemed to her they had far bigger foes at the moment.

  Namely giants! Their captors towered as tall as oak trees. They were big and bald, their bare feet covered in dirt like they’d just crawled out of the earth itself! They had long noses and hairy knuckles. But the really odd thing about them was the steam that curled up from the top of each giant’s head like wild, wispy, constantly moving hair. Each sported a hairdo of a different color steam—pea green, orange, purple, yellow, and hot pink.

  While blocking the way out of the Pantheon, the giants inched toward the students, corralling them into the very center of the room. They were trapped!

  Athena pointed to the green-steam giant. “You stole my dad’s omphalos!”

  Amphitrite whipped around to see that the giant was indeed in possession of the stone egg from the Temple at Delphi. It sat atop his bald head like a crown. Steam funneled up from him, through the bottom end of the egg, and out through its top opening.

  He grinned and thumped his chest with a big fist. “Me Prince Porphyrion. Egg mine. Me tell future from now on. Olympians’ future look bad. Giants’ future look good. Heh heh heh.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Medusa demanded. The snakes on her head were hissing and lunging wildly at the giants to no avail.

  “Think that giant can really use the stone egg to see the future?” Pandora whispered to Amphitrite.

  “Hope not,” Amphitrite whispered back. “I think only the Oracle can do that—or could when she had the egg, anyway.”

  “If you give that omphalos back, we’ll ask Zeus to go easy on your punishment,” Athena commanded in a strong, clear voice.

  The purple-steam giant shook his head and pointed at the green-steam giant, who seemed to be their leader. “Nuh-uh. Porphy like crown.”

  “Yeah,” said the yellow-steam one. “Porphy gonna be king. Mommy say so.”

  At this, Ares started laughing. “King of what? Kindergarten?”

  The giants all took a threatening step toward Ares and the other students, forcing them to draw into a tighter group. For a few seconds, the oculus threw light on the omphalos, and Amphitrite noticed something she hadn’t back in the Oracle’s dim sanctuary. The carved net design that covered the egg had glossy, gleaming little bumps all along it. They were spaced evenly, one on each carved knot.

  And the bumps caught the sunlight whenever the giant moved his head. She squinted, trying to see them better. Was it possible . . . were those bumps actually pearls embedded along the knots in the carved rope? Could this carefully designed geometric pattern that resembled a net actually be the legendary string of pearls?

  A thrilling hope shot through her. She felt in her pocket for the pearl she’d found in the Oracle’s sanctuary back in Delphi. It was still there. Had it popped off the omphalos when the giant’s fist had grabbed it? She wondered how she could get close enough to see for herself without getting clobbered by one of these grumpy-looking giants.

  “No!” Porphy raged. “We not in kindeegarten. School dumb. Me gonna be king of the wor—” he started to say.

  But then a new voice interrupted him from out of nowhere. A woman’s voice, though she wasn’t visible. “Zeus knooows we have the omphalos. And he is powerless to stop whaaat I have planned,” she crooned.

  “What? I—I don’t believe you,” Athena said in a worried voice. “Who are you? And where are you?”

  “I know that voice,” hissed Iris from somewhere inside the group of students. “It’s Gaia!”

  Hades nodded. “Yeah. I think her voice is coming from that stone egg. She must’ve shape-shifted into something small enough to fit inside it.”

  Then the voice became so quiet the students could no longer make out what it was saying. Porphy cocked his head as if to listen better. “Okay, Mommy,” he replied, and reached toward Pheme. With a hairy finger and thumb, he plucked the only two-way-communication scroll the Olympians had right out of her hands.

  “Hey! I need that!” she protested.

  Porphy and his giant pals ignored her and got busy turning the scroll-gadget upside-down and shaking it like a rattle, trying to figure out how it worked.

  “Someone’s got to escape to MOA to let Zeus know what’s happening,” Poseidon said in a low voice.

  “I’ll do it,” Iris offered. Quickly she wound up a ball of magic and pitched it high overhead. Only instead of a ball, she tossed out a rainbow for transportation. Brrrng! It arced high, hurtling toward the oculus.

  But the orange-steam giant simply raised one meaty hand. He caught the ball of rainbow magic Iris had thrown and squashed it into nothingness. Pfft!

  “So much for me getting word to Zeus,” said Iris, her shoulders drooping.

  Thunk! Porphy had finally given up on the two-way-communication scroll and dropped it into the hole at the top of the egg.

  “Why are you bugging us like this?” Pandora dared to shout up at Gaia. “What did we ever do to you?”

  “Glad you asked,” Gaia’s disembodied—or rather, egg-embodied—voice replied after a minute. “I’ve been stewing over Zeus’s imprisonment of my son, Typhon. I figure if you Olympians can butt into my boys�
�� business, we can butt into your competition.”

  Astonished, anxious murmurs rose from the students at this, but Gaia talked on. “I’ve sent Zeus a message just now on this amusing little scroll-gadget. He’s already replied, agreeing to let my five boys join in the Temple Games as a new team.”

  “No way!” Eros began.

  “Liar!” someone else called.

  “These are our games. I say we battle these giants here and now!” shouted Ares, taking a fighting stance.

  “Inadvisable,” said Gaia in voice that was eerie for its calmness. “Because I have one hundred giant sons in all. And if you don’t let my boys compete, their brothers will come. Think of it as a hundred Typhons let loose on the world.”

  An unhappy silence settled over the students.

  Amphitrite scanned her team’s faces. “The hundred fighters the Oracle mentioned?” she asked worriedly. Poseidon sent her a grim look. No wonder Gaia was acting so sure of herself, Amphitrite thought. Even Ares—god of war—wouldn’t be able to fight off a hundred giants!

  “Ah, I see you finally understand things,” Gaia gloated. “All I’m asking is that you give my boys the same hope as you. The chance to win a temple built in their honor. Is that so wrong?”

  “I don’t trust her,” Amphitrite whispered to Poseidon.

  “Me neither,” he agreed, nodding.

  Suddenly, the scroll-gadget came hurtling down to Pheme again. She caught it and scanned its current message. “It’s true,” she told everyone. “Zeus has agreed to let these five giants compete.”

  “Good, that’s settled, then.” Gaia cackled gleefully. “The competition will continue, and Zeus will provide me with my own two-way scroll-gadget for the rest of the games. However, since the rules say there can be only six teams by this point in the competition, I’m afraid one of your teams will have to drop out. Iris’s team.”

  “What? That isn’t fair!” complained Zephyr. Other students also began grumbling in dismay.

  “Is too fair,” said Porphy. He crossed his arms, which looked as thick and strong as the columns that stood around Mount Olympus Academy. “Iris mean to our brother Typhon. Iris out. Giants in. Or . . . deal off. Right, Mommy?”

  “Right,” cooed Gaia’s voice. “And we all heard you try to bail out of the competition a few minutes ago. An automatic out. Rules are rules.”

  Frowning deeply, Iris nevertheless nodded. “I’ll find Artemis,” she said quietly to those around her. “We won’t be far behind you, wherever you go. We’ll watch for a chance to help.”

  Brrrng! Iris tossed out a new rainbow. None of the giants attempted to stop this one, though. It arced high, forming a trail of colors that shot up through the oculus and off into the distance. The other five teams watched helplessly as Iris, Aglaia, Hephaestus, Zephyr, and Boreas headed out across it.

  “Zeus and I have agreed to keep our distance from the game from this point on, so I must go. Good luck, sweet giants. Let the games continue!” Gaia shouted cheerfully. A ball of dust and vines shot from Porphy’s head and up through the oculus, taking the giants’ mom with it.

  “There she blows,” muttered Hades.

  What had she gotten herself into? wondered Amphitrite. Yesterday she’d been safe, though maybe a little bit bored, at home in the Aegean Sea. And now she was in a dangerous contest against a team of giants!

  “Let’s beat it to the Temple of Uppsala in Sweden!” Poseidon shouted.

  “Before these giant buttinskies can get there first,” seconded Medusa.

  “Yeah!” added Athena.

  Ares punched a fist in the air, and Heracles raised his club. “You said it!” they yelled.

  Buoyed by the determination of those around her, Amphitrite shouted, “Let’s go!” Together their teams would fight these giant bullies. No way would they be allowed to win the games!

  Feeling feisty and fierce, all twenty-five remaining students raced around and between the giants’ legs, heading for the Pantheon’s door. However, in three giant steps, the giants ducked out the door first. Slamming it shut behind them, they locked the students inside.

  “Those big guys are fast!” exclaimed Apollo.

  “Listen! What’s that horrible sound?” said Medusa, shushing everyone. They all quieted at once. From outside came loud, crunching sounds.

  “Something’s being destroyed out there,” said Pheme.

  Poseidon pointed to the oculus. “Up and away!” He took Amphitrite’s hand and whooshed upward. After all, now that the challenge was over, so was the ban on using winged sandals.

  Without worrying about who was on whose team, the remaining immortals helped the mortal students to wing up to the Pantheon’s roof as well. Athena took Heracles’ hand, and Dionysus grasped Medusa’s. In this moment, there were no divisions. They were like one steadfast team, united against a single giant foe.

  As they stood atop the roof outside, a terrible sight greeted their eyes. Their carts and chariots had been crushed to smithereens down in the street.

  “Those giants stomped our transport!” Hades said darkly.

  “Luckily, we can do without if we must. Onward!” said Athena. With that, the students took off, zooming northward to Sweden on winged sandals.

  Once they were flying high above the giants, Poseidon glanced at Amphitrite. “Know anything about Uppsala?”

  “No, unfortunately,” she admitted. “None of the scrolls in the MUMS library mentioned it.” Below them, she caught a glimpse of the giants. They were running the whole way, their big feet splashing through lakes and seas and smashing down trees in forests.

  “No worries,” Poseidon replied. “We’ll still beat these giants. I mean, Fee Fi Fo Fum, we are smart and they are dumb, right?”

  A surprised giggle burst from her. “I can’t believe how calm you are. Is this a typical day for you Olympians? I mean, being attacked and stuff?”

  He shrugged, then grinned. “Guess so. Some days are more action-packed than others. You seem to be rolling with it, though.”

  “Well, it’s not what I would have exactly hoped for, but . . .” Hearing shouts, she looked down.

  Below them, cheering crowds had gathered in cities and farmlands. Keeping a wary eye out for the giants, the mortal well-wishers waved signs and called encouragements skyward as the students passed over them. Their signs said things like: Immortals Rule! Beat Those Giants! Yay, MOA!

  “Look, they’re all rooting for us. Word of what’s happening has really spread fast,” Amphitrite mused. She glanced sideways to see Pheme writing on her two-way scroll-gadget as her small orange wings kept her aloft and moving forward.

  Poseidon looked down at the signs and nodded. “Hermes delivered those scroll-gadgets to every realm in the world. Pheme’s the best at spreading news, so it’s a sure thing everyone knows what’s up. And they know what danger they could be in if the giants win.”

  “I never realized how much mortals depend on you . . . on all immortals, I mean,” said Amphitrite.

  Poseidon nodded. “If the giants win a temple, they’ll gain status. No one wants to have to worship them. They must be stopped.”

  “What . . . what if we fail?” Amphitrite murmured. “If they beat us, they might grow bold enough to start trampling creatures all over the world! Including my family in the Undersea.”

  “Hey! Have no fear. We may have to play along with those giant dweebs for now, but we’ll get ’em in the end. In this to win this, remember?”

  “Are you just trying to cheer me up?” she asked, sending him a sideways glance.

  He grinned back at her. “Is it working?”

  She laughed, feeling greatly encouraged by his faith in the students’ ability to crush the formidable power of their giant foes. “Yes!”

  By four o’clock, they found themselves over Sweden, flying above bright green hills dotted with sheep. Soon they were approaching the temple of Uppsala, which looked like a beautiful castle with turrets. A splendid tree and a water well
stood alongside the temple.

  “It’s so pretty!” she said enthusiastically. “But what’s that sparkling band wrapped around the temple’s turrets?”

  “Looks like some kind of chain,” Poseidon said as they drew nearer.

  He was right. It was indeed a chain. With huge golden links that encircled the temple’s turrets. What could it be for? Minutes after they landed under the tree next to the temple, the other four remaining student teams also set down. Luckily, the giants hadn’t been able to run as fast as the students’ winged sandals could fly, but Gaia’s boys weren’t far behind.

  Hearing a clacking sound, which seemed to be coming from the tree, Amphitrite stepped closer to it. Long green vines trailed from its branches to sweep the ground. And there was something else, too.

  “How weird!” she said, pointing up into its branches. Nine marionettes, each about as big as she was, hung high in the tree on puppeteer strings. They were carved from wood and had painted faces, hair, and clothing. Their wooden legs and arms clicked and clacked against each other whenever a breeze blew.

  “Where did those come from?” asked Pandora, gazing up at them too. “Is that a weird tree, or what?”

  “We are hung in this tree every nine years during a great festival,” said a clacky voice. The marionettes could speak!

  “This tree is a very special tree with wide-spread branches, always green in both winter and summer. What kind it is, nobody knows,” a second marionette informed them.

  After each finished speaking, it mysteriously disappeared into thin air. Poof! Poof! Now there were seven left in the tree.

  “So do you marionettes all talk?” asked Pandora.

  “Yes,” said a third marionette. Poof! It was gone too.

  “That was a useless question,” Poseidon scolded. “It’s pretty clear they can all talk, and furthermore, that they’ll only answer one question apiece before disappearing. So let’s think about what we might need to know to win this challenge and only ask questions about that.”

  Pandora looked a bit embarrassed, but nodded. Amphitrite’s heart twisted a little in sympathy. However, Poseidon seemed oblivious to the fact that he’d hurt the mortal girl’s feelings.