by Joan Holub
“Godness!” Persephone shrieked, her pale face turning even paler than usual when Athena opened her door. “What’s happened to you?”
When Aphrodite appeared in the doorway too, Artemis laughed. “Maybe I should get a doctor. Whatever Athena’s got, it seems to be contagious.”
“It’s a facial mask. Want to try it?” Athena asked. “It feels great.”
Soon all four girls had goop on their faces. “Good thing my dogs are in my room,” said Artemis. “This stuff smells so good, they’d go crazy trying to lick if off.” After rubbing the paste in with soft cloths, they waited twenty minutes, then trooped down to the hall bathroom to rinse off.
When they returned to Athena’s room, Aphrodite told Persephone and Artemis about Hippomenes too. “It would be great if you’d all come with me to the race tomorrow,” she said. “It’s early enough that we should have time to get back before our classes start.”
Athena looked up from her desk, where she’d been scribbling down the facial scrub recipe while Aphrodite recounted her story again. “I’ll come,” she said.
“Me too,” echoed Persephone.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” said Artemis. “I’ll bring my dogs too.”
* * *
Hippomenes’s eyes widened when he saw all four goddesses approaching the deserted sandy racecourse at dawn the next morning. Aphrodite introduced him to her friends. “Down, boys!” shouted Artemis when her hounds leaped up on him.
“That’s okay,” said Hippomenes, rubbing Amby under the chin. “We’ve met once before, so that makes us old friends.”
From the bag she’d brought, Aphrodite pulled out the three golden apples Hephaestus had made. She’d asked him to come too, but he’d stayed up late to make the apples and had a paper he needed to finish before his first-period class.
The apples were perfectly round and polished to a high golden shine. Hephaestus had used all his skills as a metalsmith to craft them. Just like the bracelet, they were so irresistible that Aphrodite wished she could keep them herself. But after a moment’s hesitation, she dropped the apples into Hippomenes’s cupped hands.
“What do I do with these?” he asked.
“Keep them with you during the race,” she told him. “You’ll figure out how to use them when the time is right.” More than that she would not tell him. He needed to be wise enough to puzzle some things out for himself.
“Thank you, O Wonderful and Beautiful Goddess,” said Hippomenes, bowing. “I hope to prove worthy of your help.”
As a throng of people began gathering to watch the race, Aphrodite and her friends melted into the crowd. Minutes later, golden-haired Atalanta appeared, accompanied by her father, King Schoeneus.
After a few moments she left the king and joined Hippomenes at the starting line. Glancing at him with tender eyes filled with sadness, Atalanta crouched beside him, waiting for the signal to begin the race. Seconds later, the trumpets sounded, and they were off.
“Go, Hippomenes!” shouted the four goddessgirls.
At first he held his own, managing to race side by side with Atalanta, but after a while she began pulling ahead. Swift as a chariot, she sped farther and farther away.
“Faster, Hippomenes!” yelled the goddessgirls. Their voices blended together with those of the crowd, which was also urging the youth on. Squeezing her hands together Aphrodite willed him to think of the apples. At that moment Atalanta glanced over her shoulder to check on Hippomenes’s speed. The action caused her to slow a little, and in that instant Hippomenes’s face lit up as if an idea had struck him. Drawing the first apple from his sash, he tossed it into the air so that it rolled onto the track just ahead of Atalanta.
Transfixed by its shiny goldness, the girl hesitated, then bent to scoop it up. As she did so, Hippomenes dashed past her.
The crowd cheered, and the goddessgirls pumped their fists in the air. “Way to go, Hippomenes!” shouted Aphrodite. Pocketing the first apple, Atalanta soon caught up and passed him again. Reaching into his sash, Hippomenes drew out the second apple and flung it with all his might. It glinted in the morning sun as it rolled in front of Atalanta and came to rest at the edge of the track. As she darted over to pick it up, Hippomenes passed her once more.
By now the goal marks were in sight. But as before, Atalanta quickly drew even with Hippomenes and pulled ahead in a fresh burst of speed. “Oh no!” cried Aphrodite. Poor Hippomenes was breathing heavily, his sides heaving. But with his last bit of strength, he hurled the final golden apple. It struck the course at Atalanta’s feet and bounced wide. Unable to resist, she swerved to follow. As she stooped to capture it, Hippomenes stumbled across the finish line.
A shout went up from the crowd, and just like the mortals around them, the goddessgirls jumped for joy and hugged one another. Hippomenes sent Aphrodite a wave of thanks as he trotted to a small stage that had been set up near the track. She smiled, waving back.
A palace attendant placed a wreath on Hippomenes’s head, and Atalanta came to stand beside him. Smiling broadly, she held up the golden apples for all to see. “Hippomenes has won,” she proclaimed loudly. “I am glad to give up the race, and that it is he who has won this victory from me.”
“I will only count myself the true winner,” said Hippomenes, gazing at her lovingly, “if you say I’ve won your heart.”
Atalanta blushed. “And so you have.”
The goddessgirls sighed.
“How romantic.” Aphrodite’s eyes shone bright as the golden apples as Atalanta took Hippomenes’s hand and lead him to the king, who would soon be blessing their marriage. It felt good to have played a part in bringing the two young mortals together.
“Ye gods!” Athena exclaimed. “If we don’t hurry back, we’ll be late to class!” Luckily, the girls had worn their winged sandals. Now they loosened the ties to free the silver wings at their heels. As the ties twined around their ankles, the wings began to flap. Artemis’s dogs raced along behind as, within minutes, the sandals whisked all four girls up the mountainside and through the clouds to the top of Mount Olympus.
10
Perfect Matches
THAT AFTERNOON, AT APHRODITE’S INVITATION, Hephaestus joined the goddessgirls in the cafeteria for a snack. While sipping ambrosia shakes, the girls took turns telling him about the race.
As Persephone described the spellbound look on Atalanta’s face when she glimpsed the first golden apple, Aphrodite noticed a goddessgirl with curly brown hair watching them from several tables away. There was a dreamy expression on her face as her pretty brown eyes settled on Hephaestus—the kind of expression Aphrodite often saw on her own admirers’ faces. The girl looked away when she saw she’d been noticed gaping at him. “Do you know that goddessgirl?” Aphrodite interrupted, looking at Hephaestus and nodding her head in the girl’s direction.
He glanced toward the brown-haired girl. “Sure. She’s new here at MOA. Her name’s Aglaia. She’s in my Beast-ology class.”
“Interesting,” said Aphrodite. “She was looking at you just now.”
He shrugged and turned back toward Persephone. “So then what did Hippomenes do?”
Honestly, thought Aphrodite, sometimes godboys were so dense. “Excuse me,” she said, interrupting again. “But that girl wasn’t just looking at you. She was looking at you like she likes you.”
Artemis, Persephone, and Athena giggled. Blushing, Hephaestus glanced at Aglaia again, this time with a little more interest. Across the room, the new girl caught his eye. Her cheeks turned pink as she smiled shyly at him.
Aphrodite nudged him with her elbow. “Maybe you should go talk to her. Or if you’d like, we could invite her over here. I bet she’d enjoy hearing all about how your golden apples saved the day too.”
Hephaestus’s eyes twinkled. “Are you trying to fix me up?” He might not be handsome to her, Aphrodite thought, but there was something about the sparkle in his eyes that made him attractive nonetheless. Inner beauty, she r
ealized. That’s what the sparkle was.
“Of course I’m trying to fix you up,” she said with a grin. “I’m the goddessgirl of love, after all. That’s what I do.”
“Fair enough,” Hephaestus said. The four goddessgirls looked at him expectantly. “All right,” he said at last. “I’ll go talk to her.” He took a deep breath, then stood up from the table. Shifting his weight, he leaned forward on his silver cane. “Well, here I go.”
“Wait.” On an impulse, Aphrodite hopped up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
He covered his cheek with his palm, looking pleased and surprised. “What was that for?”
“For you—for being beautiful inside and out. Okay, now you can go.” She made little shooing motions with her hands as her friends giggled again.
With a look of greater confidence, Hephaestus headed toward Aglaia’s table. Having witnessed the kiss, she was frowning slightly now. Never mind, thought Aphrodite. Her reputation as MOA’s most beautiful and sought-after goddessgirl probably wouldn’t do Hephaestus any harm.
Seconds later, a group of godboys entered the cafeteria. Ares was with them. Seeing him this time, Aphrodite’s heart didn’t flutter like it usually did. He might be handsome, she thought, but he seemed to lack other more important qualities—like kindness and loyalty and generosity that Hephaestus and Hippomenes had shown.
Glimpsing the girls, Ares left his friends and swaggered over to their table. “Hey, Theeny,” he said, ignoring the others. “Have you given any more thought to that thing we talked about?”
“Not at all,” Athena said coolly. “And I’m not going to change my mind.”
“Aw, Theeny,” pleaded Ares. “Don’t be that way.”
“You should listen better,” said Aphrodite. “As she told you before, her name’s Athena, not Theeny.”
Ares’s head swung toward her. He smiled unkindly. “What’s that, Bubbles?”
“Don’t call her that!” growled Artemis. And from under the table her dogs growled too.
Persephone frowned at him. “I think you’d better leave.”
“It’s all right,” said Aphrodite. “He probably said that without thinking—”
Ares interrupted. “Not really, I—”
“The way he does most things,” she finished.
Her friends burst into laughter.
With a snarl, Ares turned on his heel and stalked away.
Athena scowled at his back. “He and Medusa are two of a kind.”
“That’s for sure,” said Persephone. “They’re both bullies.”
“Talk about a perfect match,” said Artemis. “Those two were made for each other.”
“You are so right!” Aphrodite exclaimed. Her eyes sparkled as she said, “There’ve been a lot of rumors going around this week. How about if we start one of our own?”
* * *
It wasn’t long before the goddessgirls reassembled in Aphrodite’s room. She handed Athena her red feather pen and a sheet of pink papyrus.
“What color should the roses be?” Athena asked.
“Red,” said Persephone.
Aphrodite nodded. “Most definitely red.”
“The flowers of loooove,” Artemis said teasingly.
Athena quickly wrote down the order, addressing it to Hermes’s Floral Delivery. Then she rolled up the papyrus sheet and tied a piece of ribbon around it. As she chanted the Send spell, the little scroll rose from Aphrodite’s desk and zoomed toward her window. “Wait!” Aphrodite cried. But it was too late. The papyrus crashed against the windowpane, crumpling, then spiraling dizzily to the floor.
“Sorry, I forgot,” Aphrodite said. As the scroll slowly raised itself up, she opened the window. With what seemed like a show of dignity, the papyrus uncrumpled itself, then hopped onto the windowsill. From there, it dove into the wind and was swiftly swept away.
11
Red Roses
WHEN SCHOOL LET OUT THE FOLLOWING afternoon, Aphrodite and her friends lingered in the main hall near the marble staircase that led up to the dorms until Ares appeared. As usual, beefy Kydoimos and squinty-eyed Makhai stuck to him like bodyguards. Ares glowered at the goddessgirls as he came near, but Aphrodite smiled at him sweetly. “Hi, Ares.” She turned toward Athena. “Ask him about those flowers you got,” she said. “Those red roses he sent.”
Kydoimos stared at Ares with a look of surprise, and Makhai raised a scornful eyebrow. “What roses?” Ares spluttered, embarrassed. “I never sent anyone roses.”
“Really? They were gorgeous!” Persephone exclaimed. “And they smelled as sweet as ambrosia.”
Around them, curious students paused to listen to this interesting conversation. As more and more gathered at the foot of the stairs, Aphrodite was pleased to glimpse Medusa and Pheme among them. They must have overheard because their heads were together and Pheme was whispering excitedly. It didn’t seem to bother her when Medusa’s snakes slithered and wound through her spiky hair. Or maybe she was just too busy gossiping to notice.
Aphrodite gazed soulfully at Ares. “A godboy could win any girl’s heart with flowers like that. Right, Athena?”
Batting her eyelashes, Athena sighed theatrically. “So true.”
“Well . . . ,” he said slowly. His eyes shifted between the two girls, and Aphrodite could tell he was trying to figure out how to turn things to his advantage. He was so calculating. Why hadn’t she seen that before? “I guess maybe I did send those flowers,” he said finally. “Glad you liked them.” He gave them his most charming smile, and she felt certain he was betting that an Athena in love would change her mind about speaking to her dear old dad on his behalf.
“Oh, I did,” Athena assured him. “But of course I can’t keep them.”
“Huh?” said Ares.
Medusa inched closer and the few mortals in the crowd shrank away or covered their eyes so as not to accidentally look at her. Cupping a hand around her ear, Pheme leaned forward too, like she didn’t want to miss a single word.
“Yeah. Too bad they were delivered to you by mistake, right Athena?” Artemis said.
“Huh?” Ares said again, looking totally confused.
“I finally checked the note you sent with them,” Athena explained. Then she looked straight at Medusa. “You’re one lucky girl!”
Medusa’s eyes widened in surprise, but then a smile spread over her glossy green lips, and she gave Ares a dreamy look. “They were for me?”
“What?” Red roses bloomed in Ares’ cheeks and he backed up a step. “Wait a second, I never—”
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy them,” Aphrodite interrupted, smiling at Medusa. “What girl wouldn’t!”
For a second Medusa’s smile wavered. She glanced suspiciously at the four goddessgirls. So did her snakes. Frowning, she reached up to stroke one of them and it wound around her wrist, hissing affectionately. “You’re not putting us on, are you?” she asked.
Us? Was Medusa referring to herself and Pheme . . . or to herself and the snakes? Maybe both, thought Aphrodite. “Why would we do that?” she asked innocently.
Artemis shrugged. “If you don’t want the flowers, I’m sure Athena would be happy to keep them.”
Athena nodded vigorously, but Medusa still looked uncertain.
“We set the vase outside your room,” Persephone said.
“Go take a look if you don’t believe us,” added Athena.
Before Medusa could respond, Pheme pushed through the crowd and started upstairs. Aphrodite could bet she was making a beeline for Medusa’s room. Hurrying after her, Medusa called out, “Hey, wait for me. The flowers are mine!”
The goddessgirls grinned at one another. Once Pheme saw the roses and the card they’d asked Hermes Floral Delivery to send on Ares’s behalf, it wouldn’t be long before Ares and Medusa’s names would be paired together on everyone’s lips. Ares must have realized that too, because he raced upstairs after Medusa, a worried look on his face.
Some of the students in
the crowd dashed after them, wanting to see what else would happen. The rest left in groups, busily discussing the merits and drawbacks of this surprising new romance. Aphrodite sighed with pleasure. “I don’t think I’ve ever made a more deserving match.” Feeling more lighthearted than she had in days, she bent to pet Artemis’s dogs and didn’t even mind when Suez slobbered on her hand.
Later, the four friends walked past the sports fields at the edge of campus, down to the Supernatural Market, where they bought some snacks to share. On the way back they wove silly spells together and made candies and chips dance in the air. The hounds were delighted, especially Amby. Ears flapping, he leaped to snatch the treats and quickly gobbled them down.
“Anyone want to race?” Artemis asked as they came even with the track field.
Persephone giggled. “Not without my winged sandals.”
“Have you ever seen anyone who could run as fast as Atalanta?” Athena asked.
“Well, Ares is pretty fast,” said Aphrodite.
The other girls looked at her, as if surprised she could still say something nice about him. She shrugged. “It doesn’t mean I’m still crushing on him. But you know he’s won the footraces in every Olympic games since first grade.”
Artemis nodded. “True. But do you think he could beat Atalanta?”
“Maybe,” Aphrodite said. Then she grinned. “Especially if Medusa was chasing him.”
Laughing, the goddessgirls reached the courtyard. As they passed a group of godboys at the base of the granite stairs, all heads turned to look at Aphrodite. “Hey!” yelled the centaur from Mr. Cyclops’s class, the godboy she’d made blush only a few days ago. “Will you dance with me at the school party this weekend?”
“Hold on! I was going to ask her!” Poseidon chimed in. “Me too,” said another godboy.
Artemis rolled her eyes. “Looks like things are pretty much back to normal,” she whispered.
“One of these days you’ll find out what it’s like to crush on someone,” Persephone teased.