by Maz Evans
He tried to remember where Hypnos said he’d hidden the Water Stone. It was a name he’d never heard . . .
Elliot looked desperately at Nyx and threw the watch towards her. It sailed through the cold night. Until Hermes caught it mid-air.
‘Mate, you don’t want to do that,’ he said. ‘Trust me. Even the darkest night – remember?’
‘Oh, dear. You missed your chance,’ said Nyx. ‘As my sons will tell you – I don’t make idle threats. Kiss Mummy goodbye!’
And she loosed the arrow from the bow.
‘No!’ cried Elliot as the enchanted arrow flew towards his trembling mother. He didn’t have his Chaos Stones. There was nothing he could do. Time slowed and he could barely look. He waited for the arrow to strike . . .
‘Remember the light!’ cried Hermes as he suddenly darted forward, throwing the watch back to Elliot.
Doof.
The Hydra arrow stopped. Right in the middle of Hermes’s chest.
‘Elly!’ screamed Josie as Elliot ran to his friend.
‘Hermes!’ Elliot yelled, dropping to his knees and cradling Hermes. ‘I’m so . . .’
‘Oh, dear,’ said Thanatos. ‘It appears you’re quite alone.’
‘If you kill me,’ said Elliot, standing in front of his mother, ‘you’ll never find out where the other stones are hidden.’
‘Good point,’ said Thanatos, signalling to Nyx.
The Goddess of the Night yanked the arrow out of Hermes and put it back in the bow, aiming it this time at Virgo.
‘Let’s try this one,’ she cackled. ‘There’s no one to save her. Where are they?’
‘Er . . . Elliot,’ said Virgo shakily. ‘I require some urgent assistance . . .’
Elliot’s mind was spinning. The light? The light? What did Hermes mean, Remember the light . . .?
Even the darkest night lights up, he heard Hermes say.
‘I need light!’ he suddenly shouted.
‘No, Elliot,’ said Virgo nervously as Nyx drew back the string. ‘This is a parlous time to start smoking. The proven effects of nicotine are horrendously sub-optimal for mortal bodies . . .’
‘Not a light – light!’ exclaimed Elliot. ‘That’s what stopped her at Buckingham Palace – and at the museum. She’s the Goddess of the Night – she’s allergic to light!’
Elliot closed his eyes and raised the emerald to the sky.
‘Don’t you dare . . .!’ shouted Thanatos.
‘SHINE!’ he yelled into the darkness.
At once, a fluorescent beam radiated from the Air Stone. A sword of light pierced the night and illuminated the stone circle with sunshine.
‘Nooooo!’ Nyx screamed, her feathers starting to singe. ‘Desist!’
Elliot raised his other arm to shield his eyes. The light was so bright . . . too bright. He lowered the stone slightly for fear of blinding himself. The light instantly grew dimmer.
The moment’s respite was all Nyx needed. Between two heartbeats, the Goddess of the Night swooped over, snatched Thanatos and Hermes and soared high into the sky.
‘Give him back!’ Elliot commanded.
‘You want him?’ shrieked the Goddess of the Night as her feathers began to smoke. She ripped Elliot’s satchel from the Messenger God and, with a yell, she released him from her grasp.
‘Catch!’
Hermes’s limp body hurtled towards the floor. Immortal or not, if he hit the ground, Elliot knew he would shatter into a million pieces. He dropped the Air Stone, immediately extinguishing the sunlight.
‘Until next time,’ screamed Nyx, blasting away with Thanatos in her talons. ‘Good night!’
Elliot watched helplessly as Hermes dropped like a ragdoll.
‘Quick!’ said Virgo. ‘Do something.’
But Elliot was powerless. Again.
Without warning, a great blast swooped through Stonehenge, knocking Elliot and Virgo off their feet.
‘What was that?’ Virgo groaned as she picked herself up.
Elliot scrambled to his knees with a sickening panic. Hermes must have hit the ground by now. Where was he?
But there was nothing there.
Another giant gust of air blasted overhead as a familiar voice boomed around the stone circle.
‘I’ll have to recommend that time-management course,’ said Pegasus, who came to an elegant halt on the grass, the prostrate Hermes draped across his back. ‘Looks like I got here in the nick of time.’
30. Council of War
‘THIS. ENDS. NOW!’
Elliot winced as Zeus ripped the Zapper from his leg with sheer brute strength and slammed the remains down on the Zodiac Council’s golden table, sending a booming echo around the glass chamber.
The King of the Gods was flanked by Athene and Aphrodite, their expressions as dark as their father’s. Elliot and Virgo exchanged glances. This was going to get ugly.
‘Your Highness,’ Aquarius stammered, ‘thank you for responding to our invitation at this difficult time. I appreciate you are upset . . .’
‘Upset?!’ roared Zeus. ‘UPSET?! We warned you Thanatos was on the loose and you did NOTHING. He and Nyx launched an attack in plain mortal view, nearly killed Josie and Virgo, and my son . . .’
Zeus’s voice broke as he took a series of faltering breaths.
‘Yes. How is Hermes?’ asked Libra gently.
Zeus tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come.
‘He’s stable,’ said Athene, shooting a worried look at her sister, whose eyes were brimming with tears.
‘Has he regained consciousness?’ asked Scorpio.
Athene took Aphrodite’s hand. ‘No,’ she said solemnly. ‘But it’s only been two days. We’re remaining hopeful.’
‘Well, please let us know of anything we can do assist you,’ said Pisces. ‘And tell him that, given the circumstances, we are prepared to overlook his road traffic infringements. All 4,568 of them . . .’
‘Assist us?’ cried Zeus. ‘It’s thanks to you that he’s in this state!’
‘Father,’ said Athene, putting a soothing hand on her father’s shoulder. ‘That’s not entirely fair . . .’
‘I’ll tell you what’s not fair!’ roared Zeus. ‘Because of your blind stupidity, we were sitting around picking our navels while my boy was risking his life for . . .’
Elliot bowed his head and swallowed down the lump in his throat. The Gods hadn’t said as much. But he knew that secretly they must blame him.
Because it was all your fault, his dark voice whispered.
‘Well, you’ll be pleased to know that we have evaluated Lady Hera’s report and have decided not to proceed with her recommendation that you are “locked away for the rest of your miserable existence with only your own bodily odour for company”,’ smiled Aquarius. ‘Your powers are of course fully restored and all restrictions on your movement entirely lifted.’
‘About time,’ growled Aphrodite.
‘The Council thanks you for your co-operation.’
Aquarius put down his clipboard and smiled contentedly.
‘So that’s it, is it?’ said Zeus, quietly. Elliot instinctively looked for cover. He could feel a thunderbolt coming.
‘Unless you have anything to add?’ said Aquarius.
‘Oh, I have something to add all right,’ said Zeus. ‘But if this Council spent less time shuffling bally paperwork and more time actually doing something, I wouldn’t have to! War is coming. We need heroes, not half-wits! We need courage, not clipboards! We need spears, not spreadsheets!’
A gasp went up around the room.
‘How dare you!’ bumbled Aquarius, shuffling papers frantically. ‘This Council is a progressive organization that believes in dynamic action over corporate time-wasting! We learnt that at our Wilderness Circus Skills away-day!’
‘Well, said!’ said Sagittarius. ‘I’ve a good mind to fill out form R67*(4-Aardvark), Recording Displeasure on a Sunday. Scorpio – make a note of that on my spreadsheet. There’s
a print-out on my clipboard.’
‘Your Highness, are you actually suggesting,’ said Libra, aghast, ‘that this noble Council, which has successfully supported the immortal community for thousands of years in the wake of your retirement, isn’t doing its job competently?’
‘There’s no suggesting about it,’ boomed Zeus. ‘When I handed my responsibilities over to you, it was in the hope that you would do anything to protect the mortal and immortal realms that we so loved. But it’s abundantly clear that you’re not fit for the task. So let me be very plain: Thanatos is back. But so are we. We’re taking the fight to him. And I pity anyone who tries to stop us.’
Elliot barely dared breathe as the tension festered in the chamber, the Zodiac Council locked in a staring match with Zeus and his daughters.
Virgo gently cleared her throat. ‘Er . . . sorry to interrupt,’ she chimed, ‘but seeing as I’m here anyway, I thought you may as well return my kardia to me now . . .’
‘I’m sorry?’ said Aquarius, breaking his death stare with Zeus.
‘My kardia,’ said Virgo, pointing to where the crystal necklace glistened in her former place at the table. ‘Don’t get up – I’ll get it myself . . .’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ said Aquarius. ‘You haven’t earned it.’
‘What?!’ cried Virgo.
‘Give it back to her. Now,’ growled Zeus.
‘I’m sorry, Your Highness,’ said Cancer, consulting one of her leather books, ‘but whatever powers you believe yourself to have, you have no jurisdiction here. Virgo is still an employee of this Council. Decisions regarding her future lie exclusively with us.’
‘But – but – but . . . I did the quest!’ burbled Virgo. ‘I did an impossible task. I solved the maze. I won the priceless artefact.’
‘The Council feels that you did not fulfil the terms of our agreement to our satisfaction,’ said Aquarius. ‘Thanatos is still at large.’
‘Not that we know anything about that,’ added Pisces.
‘Quite,’ said Aquarius. ‘But if we did, then the threat to the mortals remains. This hardly makes you a hero.’
‘So you’re asking me to be the other kind of hero . . . but that’s impossible . . .’ said Virgo.
‘No hero ever became one easily,’ said Sagittarius.
‘It would be awful, terrible, risky . . .’ said Virgo.
‘Then that is what you must do,’ said Taurus.
‘So let me get this straight,’ said Virgo. ‘If I’m to be a true hero, I’m going to have to . . .’
‘Go on, child,’ said Aquarius. ‘Face your fears . . .’
‘I’m going to have to . . . go on a reality-television contest!’ said Virgo. ‘But that’s unthinkable!’
The Council stared blankly at their former colleague.
‘I suggest you return to Earth and redouble your efforts,’ said Aquarius, bringing his golden gavel down to declare the meeting over. ‘Until you prove yourself a true hero, your kardia will remain here with us. Although if you did want to participate in Immortals’ Got Talent, I’ll happily lend you my Swiss cow bells and lederhosen.’
31. Candid Camera
Just over a week later, Elliot was back at Brysmore, trying to summon the will to live in Mr Boil’s Monday morning double history lesson. Elliot had to give Boil one thing – he was certainly consistent. He was now halfway through his second year at Brysmore and every history lesson was just as boring as the last. Athene said that great historians could bring the past to life. Boil somehow killed it for the second time.
But Elliot had something else on his mind.
‘What do you think this meeting with Call Me Graham is about?’ he whispered to Virgo.
‘Your woeful disregard for authority, education and personal hygiene?’ Virgo suggested.
‘Nah,’ said Elliot, shaking his head. ‘It sounded like it was something new.’
‘Hoopers!’ shouted Boil as he wobbled into the classroom. ‘Silence in my class!’
The headmaster’s secretary, Maud, appeared at the door. There was a rumour that Maud used to play for the England women’s rugby team, but Elliot didn’t believe it. It was more likely she played for the men’s.
‘Excuse me, Mr Boil,’ she boomed. ‘The headmaster is ready for you.’
‘Excellent,’ leered Boil. ‘Hoopers! Follow me!’
‘Er . . . sir?’ said Elliot. ‘You’re coming too?’
Boil’s face jiggled like stale custard. ‘Yes,’ he grinned. ‘Proceed to the headmaster’s office at once.’
Virgo and Elliot snatched worried glances at one another.
‘Now!’ snapped Boil.
‘Did you put chilli powder in his coffee again?’ whispered Virgo as they walked down the corridor.
‘No,’ said Elliot, making a note to do so soon.
‘Silence!’ roared Boil, pounding his fist on the door to the head’s office.
‘Aaaargh! Come in,’ came Graham’s weak reply. Elliot could hear voices – one of them sounded exactly like . . . No. It couldn’t be. Why on Earth would—?
‘DUMPLING!’ screeched Patricia Porshley-Plum as the door swung open. She gathered Elliot into her tweed-clad arms. He nearly choked on her perfume. It smelt like flower vomit.
‘Ah, Elliot, Anna . . . Mr Boil – take a seat. This is Ms Givings. She’s our school welfare officer.’
Elliot’s heart froze.
‘Who?’ whispered Virgo out of the corner of her mouth.
‘The person I’ve spent the last year trying to avoid,’ Elliot whispered back.
A young, smiling, red-haired lady rose from her seat and gave Elliot and Virgo warm handshakes.
‘Hi,’ said Ms Givings. ‘Great to meet you both.’
‘You too,’ said Elliot unconvincingly as he and Virgo took their seats.
‘Now, Elliot,’ said Call Me Graham, ‘as you know, at Brysmore Grammar School staff take the welfare of our students extremely seriously.’
‘Unless they dislike a child,’ said Virgo. ‘I’ve observed that they seem rather less concerned about those ones. Take Mr Boil, for example . . .’
‘Be quiet, Girl Hooper!’ roared Boil. ‘Before I put you in detention until your funeral!’
‘Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!’ stammered Graham, grinning nervously at Ms Givings. ‘Little Anna Hooper and Mr Boil. Such jokers . . .’
‘If I were joking,’ Virgo continued, ‘I’d be trying to persuade you that Napoleon kept his armies in his panties . . . ’
‘It’s his armies in his sleevies, you freak . . .’ Elliot whispered.
‘Anyway, you two,’ said Graham hastily. ‘You know that we are here to help in any way we can. And we were wondering if you might need a little more help?’
Help. Elliot truly hated that word now.
‘We’re fine – thank you,’ said Elliot, with the most convincing smile he could manage.
‘Are you, though?’ said Graham, his wet eyes full of concern. ‘Really?’
‘Really,’ said Elliot. ‘So if that’s everything, sir . . .’
‘Now come along, pigeon,’ pouted Patricia with her monkey-bum mouth. ‘You know how much I adore you and your family . . .’
‘You tried to throw us out of our home,’ glowered Elliot.
‘The Hoopers were interested in developing their property portfolio,’ Patricia whispered at a ridiculous volume. ‘This little . . . lad struggled to adjust.’
The other adults nodded understandingly. Elliot resisted the urge to punch them all.
‘As an old family friend, pumpkin,’ Patricia continued, ‘I just wanted to make sure you were getting the help you need. You know. With Josiekins . . .’
‘Don’t you dare say her name,’ spat Elliot.
‘Mrs Porshley-Plum has come to see me with some . . . concerns about your home life,’ said Graham. ‘And you can tell me anything. I won’t say a word. You ask the school bursar. I’ve turned a blind eye to him using the petty cash to finance hi
s Bentley for ages . . .’
‘What Mr Sopweed is trying to say—’ said Ms Givings.
‘You can call me Graham,’ whispered Graham.
‘Er . . . thanks,’ said Ms Givings. ‘We want you to know this is a totally safe place. You’re not in any trouble. Nothing you say here is going to cause problems for you. We’re here to support you.’
‘Thanks,’ said Elliot. ‘But we’re fine. Really.’
Ms Givings and Graham exchanged a look that Elliot didn’t quite understand but knew he didn’t like.
‘Elliot, Anna – if a member of the community has come forward with concerns about your welfare,’ said Ms Givings, ‘we have to take that very seriously. If you just answer our questions, I’m sure we can sort everything out.’
Elliot nodded reluctantly. Questions were the very last thing he needed.
‘Could you explain to me how you two are related?’ smiled Ms Givings.
‘We. Are. Cousins,’ said Virgo in her terrible lying voice.
‘On whose side?’ asked Ms Givings.
‘My mother’s,’ said Elliot.
‘His father’s,’ said Virgo simultaneously.
‘I see,’ said the welfare officer, making a note on her pad.
‘It’s complicated,’ said Elliot, frantically faking his family tree. ‘Our mothers are . . . sisters and our fathers are . . . brothers.’
He paused for a moment. Did that work?
‘Right . . .’ said Ms Givings, figuring it out herself. ‘So two sisters married two brothers? How unusual!’
‘Not in the country,’ smiled Elliot with relief. ‘Everyone marries everyone in Little Motbury.’
‘But your uncle is American?’ said Graham with a wrinkled nose.
‘I thought he was Greek?’ said Patricia with a joyless grin.
‘Yes – yes, he is,’ stumbled Elliot. ‘He and my dad . . . moved around a lot. During the war.’
‘Which war was that?’ asked Ms Givings.
‘Second World War?’ said Elliot uncertainly, naming the only one he’d heard of. Had there been a third one yet?
‘Gracious,’ said Graham. ‘That would make your uncle . . .’
‘He’s older than he looks,’ said Virgo, obviously happy she could say something that was true.