Artemis the Loyal (Goddess Girls)

by Holub, Joan

  Aphrodite tapped her chin with a fingertip. “I wonder if we could come up with a better title than ‘Girls-Only Olympics’? It’s kind of a mouthful.”

  “I know! How about the ‘Her-O-Lympics’?” Artemis suggested.

  Her friends stared at her blankly.

  “You know, ‘Her’—as in female. Plus O. So it’s a made-up word that’s sort of like ‘Hero,’ only pronounced differently. And then you add ‘Lympics.’”

  “Um—” said Aphrodite.

  “Well,” hedged Persephone.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “‘Lympics’ kind of sounds like ‘limping,’” said Athena. “Not a good visual for a sports event.”

  “Any better ideas?” asked Artemis. The others were silent.

  “Her-O-Lympics it is!” said Athena. “It’ll do for now anyway.”

  “We can always change it later,” agreed Artemis.

  “Let’s get going on that petition,” said Athena. “Like I said, there won’t be a Her-O-Lympics if we don’t get enough support.”

  Aphrodite fetched her favorite red feather pen and several sheets of pink papyrus, and together the girls worked on the wording of the petition. When that was finished, Artemis made several copies of it, while the others made a big, bright poster. It read:

  JOIN THE CAUSE:

  HELP MAKE THE HER-O-LYMPICS A REALITY!

  Aphrodite and Persephone decorated the poster with glittery hearts and flowers to make it stand out even more. Sports-themed decorations like balls and uniforms would’ve been more appropriate, thought Artemis, but she held her tongue.

  When all was ready, they agreed to meet after school the next day to begin seeking signatures for their petition.

  “Think we’ll get any boys to sign it?” Artemis asked as they were heading off.

  “I bet Hades will,” said Persephone.

  “So will Heracles,” Athena said confidently.

  Aphrodite frowned. “Ares may take some convincing, but he’ll sign if he knows what’s good for him!”

  Artemis wanted to add that Apollo would sign. But would he? She’d always taken his support—his loyalty—for granted. But he’d been so prickly lately. Well, if he wouldn’t sign the petition, she at least hoped he wouldn’t work against them!

  7

  Big Giant Trouble

  AS ARTEMIS MADE HER WAY TO HER SECOND- period Hero-ology class the next morning, her dogs dashed and darted between sandaled feet in the hallway, playing their favorite game of Dodge-the-Student. Suddenly, she heard yelling and scuffling up ahead.

  “Yeah! Let him have it!” someone shouted. This was followed by a loud smack!

  “Whoa! That must’ve hurt!” someone else said in a half-admiring tone. Artemis stood on tiptoe to see over the students who had gathered around to watch the fight. But even on tiptoe she couldn’t really see what was going on. “Stay!” she commanded her dogs.

  After pushing through the crowd, she wasn’t really surprised to find that Ares and Poseidon, egged on by some of the other godboys, were at it again with one of the giants. Fortunately, Apollo wasn’t among the fighters or the eggers. His second-period class was in another wing.

  What was this giant doing inside the Academy at all? Looking around, Artemis saw many other non-MOA athletes watching the fight too. Then she remembered that athletes were always invited to attend classes at MOA during the Games. She guessed it made sense, since they were missing classes at their own schools.

  “You know, you look like a smart guy,” Ares teased the giant. “What other impressions can you do?” Ares and most of the crowd laughed.

  “Well, you don’t even look like a smart guy,” the giant retorted in the high, girly voice that belonged to Ephialtes. Either Ephialtes was horrible at jokes, thought Artemis, or she just didn’t understand giant humor. His attempted joke fell flat.

  “I’d say you’re a pain in the neck,” Ares quipped again, “but I have a much lower opinion of you!” His friends cracked up again.

  Pushed too far by this second taunt, Ephialtes lunged. With a yelp, Ares sidestepped him, then threw a series of mock punches. Artemis tensed, watching the fight erupt. In the front office yesterday, Zeus had said, “The Games are meant to bring students together in harmony.” Yeah, right! Some other students must have felt as uncomfortable as she did, because they tried to break things up. “Hey,” said an MOA godboy named Eros, “can’t we all just get along?”

  But at the same time, Poseidon was creeping up behind the giant. “Yeah! Poke him in the butt!” someone yelled at the very moment Poseidon goosed Ephialtes with his trident.

  The giant grabbed his rear with both hands and whirled around. “Why, you—!” Grabbing Poseidon around the waist, he lifted him over his head as easily as Zeus had lifted his file cabinet.

  “Ow! Put me down!” yelled Poseidon as he bumped the ceiling.

  “Yeah, put him down,” said Ares, dancing around the giant and pretending to punch out at him like a prizefighter. “You know it’s me you really want!” The giant only grinned at him, and began twirling Poseidon overhead in one hand as he held Ares off with his other. Around and around Poseidon went, as if he were a baton and Ephialtes were a majorette.

  “Yoo-hoo! Over here, giant!” Medusa called out, jumping up and down and waving from the back of the crowd. Hearing her, all the mortal students in the hall quickly put on stoneglasses. Just as sunglasses protected them from the sun, these glasses kept them from being turned to stone by Medusa’s stare. Distracted, Ephialtes glanced her way.

  She locked eyes with him, shooting him her infamous stare. But nothing happened! He just kept twirling Poseidon. Medusa’s ability to turn someone to stone with a single glance worked only on mortals. And unfortunately for her, Ephialtes appeared to be immortal. If Artemis remembered her Histor-ology correctly, so were most giants.

  Suddenly she wished Apollo was here after all. Then he’d see that she wasn’t the only girl to stick up for a godboy. Medusa was trying to rescue Poseidon from this giant just like she herself had tried to rescue Apollo. But then, Medusa had been crushing on Poseidon for years. He was the one person Artemis had ever seen her be nice to!

  All at once the floor began to shake. Artemis had wondered where the giant’s twin had gotten to. Now here he was—thudding down the hall toward them. To avoid being trampled, the crowd split in two and squeezed back against the lockers lining both walls.

  Just as Otus came to a stop, the door to the Hero-ology classroom was thrown open and Mr. Cyclops stormed out. “What in the name of Zeus is going on out here?” he demanded.

  Except for Ares and Poseidon, all the other godboys who’d been egging things on faded back into the wall-hugging crowd. Nodding toward Ares, Ephialtes roared, “He started it!”

  “Did not!” Ares shouted back.

  “Did too!” yelled Ephialtes.

  “Did not!” Poseidon protested from his position above the giant’s head.

  Otus just stood there, like he was totally confused about what was going on.

  Mr. Cyclops pointed at Ephialtes. “You—put Poseidon down.” Then he pointed at Ares. “And you. Back off. I don’t care who started this. It ends now.” A vein in his forehead was pulsing and his humongous eye looked ready to pop out of his forehead. All three boys wisely shut up. Poseidon was set on the ground and Ares backed off. The hushed crowd waited to see what the teacher would do next.

  Mr. Cyclops scowled at Ares. “Congratulations. You and Poseidon just won yourselves a date with Principal Zeus.”

  “But I—we—” Ares started to say. Mr. Cyclops pointed down the hall toward the principal’s office. “Go!”

  “Yes, sir,” the two godboys said meekly at the same time. Ephialtes smirked.

  As Ares and Poseidon trudged off down the hall, Artemis saw Ares glance over his shoulder at someone in the crowd. She followed his gaze and wasn’t surprised to see Aphrodite returning his look with an encouraging smile. Had she seen who start
ed the fight? Artemis wondered. Ares was hotheaded, but from what she’d seen of him so far, Ephialtes was too. The fight could just as easily have been the giant’s fault.

  Medusa sidled over to Artemis. “Mr. Cyclops is only siding with the giants because he’s one too,” she muttered. Her snakes looked exhausted from all the excitement. They had tied themselves into a knot at the base of her neck, their sleepy-eyed heads trailing down her back like a dozen ponytails.

  “Maybe, but he was on our side in the Titan War,” Artemis reminded her. Histor-ology wasn’t Medusa’s best subject. “And Mr. Cyclops would be harder on Ares and Poseidon. The giants are guests here!”

  “Whatever,” muttered Medusa. She didn’t seem too convinced.

  Artemis had a feeling that Medusa would side with Poseidon no matter who was at fault. Still, she did feel sorry for Ares and Poseidon. It wouldn’t be fun to be in their sandals when Principal Zeus heard about the fight. She hoped they were good at dodging thunderbolts.

  Mr. Cyclops’s eye swept over the students still lingering in the hallway. “Show’s over. Get to your classes.”

  As everyone started to scatter, the lyre bell sounded. “Second period will commence in five minutes,” the school’s herald announced in a loud, important voice.

  Mr. Cyclops turned toward the giants. “As for you two, I’ll see you both in my classroom at the end of the school day.” From his tone of voice, it didn’t sound like an invitation to a friendly little chat. Good, Artemis thought. The giants might be guests, but special treatment should only extend so far!

  She whistled for her dogs to follow as she started toward the classroom door.

  “Wait,” said Medusa. “What happened with Principal Zeus?”

  “Huh?” asked Artemis.

  “You know. About girls getting to participate in the Python-o-thon?”

  Artemis sighed. “Bad news. He said no. But,” she added, her face brightening, “we’re getting up a petition to start a Her-O-Lympics.”

  “A what?”

  “A Her-O-Lympics.”

  “I heard what you said,” Medusa replied. “I just don’t know what it means.”

  Hmm, thought Artemis. Maybe, like her friends had hinted, her name for the Games did stink! “It’s an Olympic Games for girls,” she explained. “And the name is just temporary. We’re open to suggestions.”

  “How about the Medusolympics?”

  Artemis nearly burst out laughing, but then she saw that Medusa looked serious. “Um. Maybe,” she hedged, starting for Mr. Cyclops’s room. “Note it on the petition.”

  “Okay. Where is it?”

  “Check for our table in the courtyard after school’s out,” said Artemis as she entered the classroom. Then she popped her head back out to add, “And be sure to spread the word.”

  Medusa nodded. “Later, then.” As she headed off for her class, Artemis ducked back inside Mr. Cyclops’s room.

  She was surprised and a little alarmed to notice that one of the giant twins had followed her down the aisle to her seat. Her dogs didn’t seem concerned, though. They just curled up on the floor around her feet.

  After squeezing himself into the empty desk in front of her, the giant half-stood and turned toward her. Wham! His whole desk rose up with him, and then slammed back down on the floor. Artemis’s dogs raised their heads and growled.

  “Sorry, miss,” the giant said in his deep voice. “Do you want to trade places? I don’t want to block your view of the board.”

  Artemis relaxed a little. So did her dogs. This was the friendly brother, Otus, thank godness. “No, that’s okay. Mr. Cyclops might call on me less often if he can’t see me,” she said, only half-joking.

  The giant flashed white teeth. He seemed a lot less scary when he smiled. The second lyre bell hadn’t sounded, so she kept on chatting. “You’re Otus, right? Ephialtes’ brother?”

  Otus, nodded, his eyes twinkling. “And you’re Artemis, yes? The girl with the magic touch!”

  Artemis blushed. He had to be thinking of how she’d turned Actaeon into a stag yesterday. “Yeah. Only I wouldn’t have used my magic if I’d known what your brother’s reaction would be.”

  Otus laughed. “If there’s one thing my brother can’t resist, it’s a hunt,” he said. “He’d even abandon a pile of gold or, better than that, one of my mom’s home-cooked meals to chase a stag.”

  Artemis smiled. “I have a twin brother too—Apollo. We’re not identical twins like you and Ephialtes, though.”

  “Ephialtes and I used to be identical,” Otus corrected. “But not anymore. See this?” Bending toward her, he rubbed his finger over a thin white scar above his left eyebrow. “A while back during a wrestling match, my head collided with my brother’s teeth.”

  “Ye gods,” she said, thinking maybe Zeus had it right when he didn’t think girls should be wrestling the boys. “That must’ve hurt.”

  “Ephialtes got the worst of it. His tooth cracked and fell out, so now he’s got a gap here.” He pointed to a tooth in the middle of his bottom row of teeth.

  From the corner of her eye, Artemis noticed that several students were frowning at her. Because she was talking to the enemy? She returned their scowls. She could talk to whoever she wanted! But just then the ping, ping, ping of the herald’s lyre bell sounded, and Mr. Cyclops began to speak.

  “Later,” Otus whispered. With another wham! he swiveled in his desk to face the front of the room.

  When class finally ended, he waited for her, blocking the aisle with his huge frame so that students had to find another route to exit the room. “I was wondering if you’d like to come watch my brother and me at wrestling practice in the arena tonight,” he said.

  “Thanks, I’ll think about it,” she said, but only to be polite. Watching a bunch of boys grappling and grunting in a wrestling match was not her idea of a good time.

  “Oh, okay,” he said, drooping a little at her hesitation. “It’s seven o’clock if you can come.” She felt kind of sorry for him as she watched him lumber out of the room and down the hall. Though she didn’t care much for Ephialtes, Otus was nice. For his sake, she hoped the two brothers would be able to keep out of any more trouble till the Games were over.

  Why did he single me out? she suddenly wondered. Was he just anxious to have one friend here at MOA? Or was he crushing on her? She wasn’t good at figuring boys out, but she certainly hoped it wasn’t the latter!

  8

  No Fair!

  OH, THIS IS SO AWFUL! WHERE’S APHRODITE? Is she with Ares in his hour of need?” Persephone asked worriedly as she took a seat next to Artemis at lunchtime. They were the first to arrive at their table.

  Artemis stared at her in surprise, wondering what she was talking about. As Persephone set down her tray, an ambrosia muffin bounced off her plate and rolled onto the floor. All three of Artemis’s dogs dove for it.

  Persephone was so upset, she didn’t even notice. “I heard that those giants broke both of Ares’ legs and he had to be carried to the front office so Zeus could heal him in time for the first footraces.” She glanced around the cafeteria as if planning to go give the giants a piece of her mind.

  “No way! Where did you hear that?” asked Artemis. She looked for the giants too. Lucky for them, they weren’t around. But Pheme was. The goddessgirl of gossip was in supercharged mode. Words puffed from her orange-glossed lips as she flitted from table to table, spreading rumors about the morning’s big fight.

  “Did Pheme tell you that?” she asked Persephone.

  “No, but I overheard her telling someone else.” Persephone hesitated. “Are you saying it’s not true?”

  Artemis nodded. “No!”

  “Then you’re saying it is true?”

  “No! I mean yes. I mean it’s not true. I was there. And Pheme wasn’t.”

  “Well, that’s a relief!” said Persephone, looking more relaxed.

  “Actually, part of it’s true,” Artemis allowed. “Ares did go to Princi
pal Zeus’s office, but no one had to carry him. And as far as I know his legs are fine.” Though maybe someone should’ve examined his head, she almost added, because if he’d had any brains he wouldn’t have gotten into a fight in the first place.

  She didn’t say this last part however, because she caught sight of Actaeon just then. Seeing him reminded her of her own rash actions in what Aphrodite had since dubbed “the stag incident.” (Although Aphrodite also thought the Trojan War she’d accidentally caused was only an “incident”!) Actaeon was balancing an empty tray in the lunch line, while the eight-armed lunch lady dished up bowls of yambrosia and handed them out to eight students at once.

  Keeping an eye on him, Artemis blew on her spoonful of stew before having a bite. Apollo had called her actions toward Actaeon inexcusable. But Athena thought the boy deserved what he got. Artemis couldn’t decide who was right. Whenever she softened and made up her mind to apologize, she remembered how Actaeon had pushed her into the fountain. And how he’d laughed at her!

  Just thinking about it made her mad all over again. She scowled as he made his way toward a table, carefully holding up his lunch tray. He must have felt her gaze on him, because he glanced her way. As if the mere sight of her frightened him, he tripped and dropped his tray. His bowl of yambrosia flew off and landed upside down on the floor. It took Artemis several seconds to realize the accident hadn’t been because of her after all. Someone had bumped him from behind when he’d paused.

  “Smooth move, Actaeon!” hooted Atlas. The godboys at his table laughed. Other students craned their necks to look. Instead of getting mad, Actaeon grinned and bowed low from the waist. “And for my next trick,” he said, “I will produce a second bowl of yambrosia.” As everyone laughed with him, he started back to the lunch line.

  By now Aphrodite had joined Artemis and Persephone at their table. “Poor Actaeon,” she commented. “He hasn’t had much luck lately.”

  “Meaning what?” Artemis said defensively. Until now her friends had mostly avoided discussing what she’d done to him, probably guessing rightly that it wasn’t something she wanted to talk about.