New Olympus Trilogy: Teenage Goddess Teenage Star Hell on Earth

by May Burnett

  Hell perched on the edge of a padded bench and snagged a handful of grapes from a chased gold bowl. Pallas’ pet owl sleepily blinked at him from her favourite spot on top of a statue. “I would love to, but there are a couple of things I need to finish first. I come for information.”

  “Go ahead,” the goddess invited him with a gracious move of her arm, as Hell had known she would. She was his half-sister, after all, as well as his favourite teacher and an invaluable ally.

  “Eros has indicated that several of the gods are bored and frustrated with their life here in New Olympus. Mother does not take the complaint seriously, and I suspect Father shares her attitude. Just how bad is it?”

  Pallas put her scroll down on the low table and looked at Hell with her penetrating dark eyes. She thought for a moment before speaking. “They don’t all talk to me, but I hear things. There is no possibility of rebellion. They know that they have no chance against Zeus. And some of us would support him. No, it is merely that retirement takes people differently, and some cope with it badly.”

  “Retirement. I had not thought about it like that,” Hell said.

  “Because you didn’t know us in our heyday. We were pretty busy, keeping up with dozens of temples each, punishing, rewarding, and interfering in human intrigue and history on a regular basis. When humans turned away from their belief and worship of us, it was a bitter experience. Some of us even feared that we would simply wither away without human worship, but of course that did not happen, because we were here before the humans, and our existence is independent of them.”

  “So how did we end up here in New Olympus? Were the minor deities always so dissatisfied with it?”

  “Things came to a head in the early middle ages. It was a time of fervent religiosity and little culture, though not as bad as the human history books make it out. There simply was no place for us, and the gullibility and superstition of the humans made it very difficult to live with them. We were reduced to retreating to remote islands and mountaintops and close off the access. But some, like Eros and Ares, could not stop sowing mischief among the humans. There was a constant need for damage limitation, leading to quarrels and resentment. Finally your father became exasperated and decided to create this Haven for us in an alternate reality. Everyone pitched in.”

  “What gave him the idea?”

  “Your uncle Hades had created a smaller, more primitive version much earlier, the Underworld, for people who he deemed too good or bad to just die. It still exists, although he has released almost all the inmates by now. It is not a pleasant place.”

  “I think one could get used to it, though the dim light is rather depressing.” Hell had toured the Underworld with Hades and Aunt Persephone some years ago. “And for New Olympus you all worked together?” He found that difficult to imagine. “How hard was it?”

  “It took our combined powers, but a joint effort was just what we needed to raise our flagging spirits. Your father drew up the master plan – with my help – but we called on everyone to add their powers to bring it into reality. It was not just a question of finding an alternate reality, there are plenty of those. It had to be basically suitable, and we had to tune it to our form of magic, so we could be as powerful here as we were in ancient Greece. Now, of course, our powers here exceed what we had then. Especially your father’s,” she added with a tiny grimace.

  “And after that –“

  “Over the next century or two each of us built and furnished our palaces and estates,” Pallas went on, “and we tinkered with the climate and ecosystem until we made both perfectly suited to our needs. Some of us had simple tastes, but Artemis transformed a whole continent into her hunting preserve and seems pretty happy there, you must have noticed she hardly ever bothers to join the rest of us. The seas are your uncle Poseidon’s, of course. But that work was finished centuries ago.”

  “You didn’t miss the humans at all?” Hell imagined being cut off from Melinda and frowned at the thought.

  “Well, of course we still observed humans and walked among them when we wanted to. Several of us even stayed down on Earth, in human disguise, for decades at a time. It was not until Mars caused the Thirty Years’ war that Zeus restricted access for some of us.” Hell knew that sensible Pallas herself had never been included in these limitations.

  “Discontent and boredom were already rife when Myra and you were born. That was a sensation, because over all those long centuries of pleasant exile, none of us had fathered any offspring. Even demi-gods were no longer born no matter how many liaisons some of us had with humans, let alone full-blooded new Gods like you. Nothing drove home the fact that we were not needed any more as clearly as that.”

  With his divine acuity Hell could hear the weariness and even sadness in Pallas’ measured words, and threw her a sympathetic look. She caught it and smiled ruefully.

  “It’s not that we wanted to raise families,” she added with a delicate shudder, “speaking for myself, that is the last thing I desired, but it is one thing to reject something voluntarily, and another to be denied the chance. Thus when Myra and you were born the excitement was enormous, and we are all expecting great things from the two of you.”

  “Why us, why now?” Hell murmured.

  “Exactly. Something has changed, and you two have a crucial role to play, so much is plain. But how this change will manifest itself is still too early to tell.”

  Hell decided to think about that expectation later. Maybe his sister Myra had some idea of what their divine purpose was supposed to be. “Have you ever heard of other cultures’ deities doing something similar – emigrating to an alternate reality the way we did?”

  “I doubt they would have been capable of such a feat. Maybe the Indian pantheon, if they could be brought to co-operate. Most of our divine colleagues are rather small-minded entities, more interested in destruction than building. But it’s not impossible, I suppose.”

  “Would we know about it? Would they know about New Olympus?”

  “No and no. New Olympus was built with impregnable defences. Nobody can come here without the invitation and help of the original inhabitants. The existence of our place would be impossible to guess at, or find, for anybody else including other Gods. Sometimes of course we or the humans who serve us here tell others about it while on Earth, but that story is rarely believed by humans. Among thousands of myths and fanciful inventions, what is one more?”

  “What happens if Earth becomes inhabitable, for instance after a major Meteor strike?”

  “It would not affect New Olympus, but the boredom would probably escalate steeply if we had to stay here all the time. And before you ask, we put a meteor shield in place that will prevent any harm coming to New Olympus itself.”

  “Could we build another for Earth?”

  “I suppose, but why should we? Humans have rejected us; they are on their own. Let them build their own meteor shield, solve their own problems.”

  Thinking of Melinda and all the humans he’d befriended down on Earth, Hell remonstrated. “But the humans who turned away from you are long dead. The contemporary generations had nothing to do with it.”

  Pallas shrugged. “They are so short-lived anyhow, it hardly seems to matter. I personally do not miss having to accept sacrifices and grant the occasional wish to some self-serving king or priestess. Good riddance.”

  “Still, I might want to do something about it myself. Can you teach me how to go about it?”

  After a moment’s thought, Pallas lightly placed her right hand on his brow, transferring the entire history of New Olympus’s origins to Hell’s memory, from the first discussion of the idea to the final tweaks. As she had been involved in the planning from the beginning, he had the entire event and technique to study at his leisure.

  “Thanks, Pallas.”

  Hell took his leave then, thinking to himself that it was not altogether surprising if humans had turned away from Gods with such an arrogant attitude towards them. H
umans’ spiritual needs had changed, no doubt, and the old gods fell out of fashion. But all that was ancient history – was the time ripe now for yet another change?

  11 Hell

  Hell was walking the short distance from Pallas’ mansion towards his parents’ palace when Argus suddenly materialised in front of him.

  “Something has happened to your girlfriend,” were the first words he said. “I’m sorry.”

  Hell froze. “What? I left her only an hour ago, in her own bedroom, in a well-guarded house.”

  “Yes, but she’s no longer there, and the strange thing is, she is no longer anywhere on Earth that I can see. I cannot even tell you if she’s still alive. She certainly is not anywhere within a thousand miles of the house where you left her. I cannot explain it.”

  “You didn’t see who took her away?”

  “No. As she was sleeping peacefully, I was not watching closely, just casting an eye on her every half-hour. When I did so just now, she was gone. It all happened very fast, whatever it was. Humans would not be able to hide her so effectively.”

  “You think non-humans – other Gods – are involved?”

  “That would be my best guess.”

  Hell lost no further time in talk, and immediately returned to Melinda’s opulent guest room, illuminating it with his own light. Were there any traces left to find?

  The empty bed looked to have been slept in by someone of Melinda’s slight size. There was no sign of any struggle.

  The fury Hell felt at that moment almost blinded him. He wanted to call up a volcano, an earthquake, a violent storm to punish whoever had taken away Melinda. Despite being on the wrong continent, he knew he could have done it at that moment. Some of the anger was directed toward himself, for not protecting her better. With a painful effort, Hell restrained himself. Shattering the house would only make it harder to find out what happened, and where she was. He refused to believe that Melinda could be dead.

  If only his experiments with time had been successful. Then he could go back to the moment when he’d left her, and lie in ambush for whoever had taken her. She’d still be safe, with him.

  As it was, he would find her, and the guilty party, if he had to score the whole earth to do it.

  Hell heightened all his senses and sniffed at the coverlet the way a dog would have done. Yet he could only make out Melinda’s familiar scent. If any human intruder had grabbed her, surely he’d have left some scent as well.

  Invisible, Hell quickly passed all through the house and around the perimeter, counting thirty guards awake and alert at their posts. All exits and entrances looked secure. How had Melinda been spirited away?

  Argus’ suggestion of supernatural involvement seemed the most likely explanation. If Hell was up against some local God, in this unfamiliar location he was at a disadvantage. Only, what could such a deity want with Melinda? Was there any connection to the old threats that had caused the family to exile her to the USA for the last five years? If not, the coincidence would surely be too great.

  Colombia had a long history of abductions for ransom, and Melinda, as her billionaire Grandmother’s heiress, had to be one of the most tempting targets of all. Yet a local God would presumably not be interested in obtaining money in such a sordid fashion. It made no sense.

  Nobody could have missed Melinda as yet. In the morning there would surely be an uproar. The family might break apart under the weight of this blow.

  It took about half an hour to check all bedrooms. Locked doors were no match to an angry young God. A group of drunken young people including Melinda’s brother Esteban were still hanging about the bar outside near the pool, but everyone else was in their beds, or someone else’s, sleeping or engaging in other routine nocturnal activities. Nobody was plotting, or gloating.

  Melinda’s grandmother looked fragile and vulnerable in her huge bed, breathing through her open mouth. Melinda had inherited her slight figure from her. Her parents were together, sleeping peacefully. Cousin Jacinta was lightly snoring in her sleep.

  He needed help.

  At Hell’s call, Argus and then Myra materialised in Melinda’s bedroom, Myra still blinking as he’d woken her from sleep in her New Olympus bed. When he explained the situation, she was horrified.

  “Melinda abducted – oh no! Whatever I can do to help, I’m more than willing.”

  “Thanks, sis.” Hell turned to Argus. “I need you to watch the inhabitants of this house, to see where they next go, and if anyone leads us to Melinda.”

  “There are more people here than my hundred eyes,” Argus pointed out. “Can you narrow it down a bit?”

  “The grandmother and mother are probably in the clear. Focus on the men – and Jacinta, Mel’s cousin, she never liked her.”

  “If your hundred eyes are not enough, get some of our relatives up in New Olympus to help,” Myra told Argus. “This is our top priority, not just for Hell, but for me as well.”

  “More than keeping an eye on your Jason?” Argus retorted with a sly grin, and Myra frowned at him. “Right now, yes. Melinda is my friend too. Get to it, please.”

  Argus vanished, leaving the siblings alone.

  “What can I do?” Myra asked.

  “I’m going to investigate any man Melinda had contact with at yesterday’s ball, but it will take time – time I’m not sure we have. There is also the inheritance angle.” He told Myra that Melinda had been declared her Grandmother’s heiress at the ball, and that the brothers, and possibly even her father, resented her for it.

  “If they only learned about it last night, there would not have been any time to plot this,” Myra pointed out. “Then again, I would not be surprised if the news had leaked out before. And if a deity is involved, no advance planning would have been necessary.”

  “No, but why would a local deity get involved in this family squabble in the first place? What motive could they have? We don’t go around kidnapping random people, although some offer ample temptation.” Hell thought back to some of his schoolmates and teachers. “If Melinda is still around tomorrow at breakfast, whoever was behind her abduction will get a nasty shock. Would that help us find her, do you think?”

  Myra was quick to catch his suggestion. “You want me to impersonate her?”

  “That will prevent a big hue and cry, which, as we know from Argus, would be pointless anyway. The culprit might give himself away.”

  “Or,” Myra added, a martial gleam in her eye, “they might try again.”

  “It could be dangerous.” Born immortal, Hell was not used to consider danger, but Myra had been very close to dying just weeks before. “Maybe that was not my best idea ever.”

  “I am not afraid of some piddling local god. But let’s take out some insurance.” Myra’s index finger moved in the air, and produced a nearly transparent golden thread, not unlike a spider’s, Hell thought as he deftly caught the end and fastened it to his own hand with magic. “This will enable you to follow me wherever I am. I’ll tug three times if I need help. You can do the same.”

  “All right.” Why hadn’t he used this method – called Ariadne’s thread - to connect him to Melinda? He’d known she was in danger, but had foolishly relied on being able to protect her anyway. Now she might have to pay with her life for his lack of foresight.

  12 Melinda

  This is the most realistic nightmare I’ve ever had. I awake all of a sudden in a dark place, humid and foul-smelling. There is not the slightest patch of light. This is what blindness must feel like. I grope for the bedcovers, but they are gone. I lie on the ground, bare hardened earth from the feel of it. I am still dressed in my silk nightgown.

  “Wake up, Melinda!” I tell myself. “It’s not real!” But even pinching myself hard in my arm does not help. Reluctantly, I face the possibility that I am actually here in this place. Only, where is “here”?

  I can tell from my bladder and lack of thirst that only a short time has passed since I went to bed. And I’m certainly stil
l tired, though my pounding heart and fear will not let me go back to sleep any time soon.

  Have they managed kidnap me after all? And who is “they”?

  I need more information. Cautiously, kneeling, I feel all around me with my hands and move a few inches at a time.

  There are no walls in any direction. This place seems to be a kind of huge cavern. If the ground is made of hard earth only, how secure is the ceiling from caving in?

  I touch what I guess to be bones of various sizes here and there. Some feel damp and icky, and I cut my hand on a sharp edge. Animal or human? I shiver. At least I haven’t encountered any skulls yet; that would settle my doubts on the matter.

  Will Hell be able to find me here? That my boyfriend is a powerful god gives me hope. Surely the people who brought me here can have no idea of his abilities. I might get out as soon as he learns of my absence. No need to despair just yet.

  I stop my exploration, wipe my hands on the hem of my nightgown, and try to imagine who could be behind this crime.

  Revenge for Uncle Hector’s actions? Surely anyone with a smidgen of honour would take him rather than a mere great-niece, but these are irrational and cowardly people, as their murder of poor Rosario has proved. Still they would probably have murdered me also, right away. Abduction does not fit with the motive of revenge.

  Somebody who wants a ransom from Grandmother or my parents? That would explain why I’m still alive. But whether the ransom is paid or not – surely Grandmother would make sure it was – abducted victims don’t always survive. Nevertheless I hope this is what happened. Hell can probably rescue me while they negotiate the details of the ransom.

  My brothers – I hate to think it – might not be too sorry if I die before Grandmother leaves her billions to me. Wait – wasn’t that what I thought I heard Diego say last night, that I would not live to inherit? I thought at the time that I must have mistaken his meaning, but now his words take on a sudden significance.