Medea the Enchantress

by Joan Holub

  Once they were safe in the harbor again, Orpheus played a slower tune. Sliding their oars into the waves, the sailors relaxed a little, rowing at a more comfortable and rhythmical pace to the beat of his song.

  Medea recalled Medusa questioning how Orpheus would prove useful on the quest. By now his worth was obvious. For one thing, he was keeping track of their exploits for Apollonius. But besides that, the rhythm of his songs—sometimes fast, sometimes slow—was helping the oarsmen keep time.

  After sailing for several more hours with no sign of food onshore, Medea was so hungry she could’ve eaten the fleece itself if they’d had it. And that thing would probably taste awful! The crew was hungry also, judging from their constant chatter about what they’d eat if they could have anything their stomachs desired. “Fig pudding . . . olives and hummus . . . honey and bread.”

  In the late afternoon, as they entered the strait of Bosporus, the sailor in the crow’s nest began pointing and shouting. “Café alert! Fooood!” At this, cheers went up from the ship.

  A building came into view with a sign above its door that read GRAND OPENING! HUNGRY, HUNGRY HARPY CAFÉ #2. After dropping anchor, everyone except a few lookouts scrambled out of the ship onto shore. When they entered the café, three birdlike winged women with feathers and claws flapped over and introduced themselves.

  “Welcome!” cawed one. “We’re the Harpy triplets, best cooks from the Mediterranean to the Black Sea. I’m Aello, and that’s Celaeno and Ocypete.”

  Jason cocked his head. “I think I’ve heard of you.”

  Aello nodded. “Our original location—now called Hungry, Hungry Harpy Café #1—is in the Immortal Marketplace, halfway between Earth and Mount Olympus. It’s doing so well that we’ve just opened this second location.”

  “Congratulations!” Jason told her. “So, can you seat fifty-one of us for lunch?”

  All three Harpies gasped.

  “No?” said Jason, noting their dismay. “That’s okay, we’ll take our food to go, then.”

  “Collect orders from your crew and give them to us,” commanded Celaeno.

  “Yeah. And while you’re at it, choose some of your crew to help us with the slicing, dicing, and peeling,” added Ocypete.

  While half-listening to this conversation, Medea and most of the Argonauts began to gaze around the café with a kind of horrified amazement. Its walls, and even its ceiling, were covered with unusual objects that, according to the small signs hanging next to them, had supposedly once been owned by immortals.

  “Look at this dented can,” Glauce whispered to Medea. “It says ‘Zeus Juice’ on it, but you can tell someone just hand-painted the word ‘Zeus’ onto a plain ol’ juice can.”

  Medea gestured to the sign under a cute, sparkly pink spear. It read PROPERTY OF ARES. She lifted an eyebrow. “Pink? Ares? I don’t think so!”

  Glauce grinned. “Yeah, maybe Aphrodite would like that spear, but it is so not Ares.” They giggled together, and it felt to Medea like they were more friends than enemies in that moment. If only it could always be that way.

  “Psst!” When a thin man with gray hair hissed at the crew, Jason, Medea, Glauce, Zetes, and Calais turned to look at him. “Run! Before you’re robbed!” the man told them in a loud whisper. “This café is a terrible place to eat—not because of the food. Because of its thieving owners!” After taking a bite of his Greek pizza and a scoop of hummus, he poked his fork toward the Harpies. “Turn your back for two seconds and they’ll steal the food you ordered right from under your nose!”

  “That’s not true, Phineas,” tsked Celaeno, who had flown over to stand behind him. While his attention was on her, her sister Ocypete sneaked a clawed hand under his arm and snatched half of his pizza away! By the time he looked down and saw that slices were missing, both Harpies had disappeared into the kitchen, cackling with glee as they ate the purloined pizza themselves.

  “See what I mean?” Phineas wailed to the Argonauts. “That’s why I’m so skinny.”

  “We’ll help you,” Jason told him. “Zetes? Calais? Use those wings of yours to collect everyone’s orders pronto, and round up some crew members willing to slice and dice. Cooking fifty-one meals ought to keep those thieving triplets occupied for a while.”

  “Got it,” said Zetes. Then he nodded to Calais. “C’mon, bro, let’s go.”

  Medea marveled at how gracefully and easily the two boys spread their wings and flitted around the café, quickly gathering lunch orders and delivering them to the Harpies. Must be nice to be able to fly! Soon those three bird ladies were so busy preparing the Argo’s big take-out order that Phineas was able to gobble down the last of his pizza in peace.

  “Wow, thanks!” the skinny man told Jason as he finished all but the hummus. “In return for your help, let me warn you about a situation you’re going to face on your voyage ahead. You’ll need to watch out for an impossible passage.”

  “Impassable passage?” echoed Medea, misunderstanding.

  “Impossible, impassible, same difference,” Phineas replied. “Look, I’ll show you.” Quickly he used his knife to form two tall piles of hummus on his plate, with an empty channel space between them. Gesturing to the piles, he said, “Pretend these are the two humongous rocks you’ll find lurking on either side of this narrow passage in the Bosporus strait on your way to the Black Sea. They’re dastardly blue rocks, each as big as three ships stacked one atop the other. Officially, they’re named the Symplegades. But sailors call them other nicknames. Like Clashers, Smashers, Destroyers . . .”

  Glauce’s and Medea’s eyes rounded. “That doesn’t sound good,” Glauce whispered.

  “The thing about the Symplegades is that they can actually think, and they have a cruel sense of humor,” Phineas went on. “If your ship tries to pass between them . . .” Using his fingertip, he pushed an olive representing the Argo into the empty channel separating his twin hummus mountains. Whap! With a mighty clap he smashed both mountains between his palms, turning them into a gooey sandwich with the flattened olive somewhere in the middle. “Then you, my friends, are history!”

  Gasps went up from Medea and the others as they gazed upon the mess he’d made to indicate what would befall them and the Argo. “Is there another way through that channel?” Jason wanted to know.

  “Nope. But I’ve got an idea how to trick those rocks,” said Phineas, wiping the hummus and squished olive from his hands with a napkin. “So listen up.”

  8

  Clasher Crushers

  HERE’S WHAT YOU DO,” BEGAN Phineas. Jason and his shipmates leaned in, eager to hear how they might get through the Symplegades without ending up like the flattened olive. “Once you’re close enough, send a dove flying between those two rocks,” the skinny Phineas continued. “Count the seconds to see how fast they slam together trying to flatten it, and how long it takes them to move apart again afterward. Once you’ve calculated that, you’ll know the exact right moment to sail between them!”

  “Lunch is served!” the Harpies called to the crew just then. Fifty-one identical papyrus bags, each with the name of a crew member (plus Medea and Glauce) scribbled on its outside, were lined up on the food counter, ready to go.

  Thanking Phineas and giving the Harpies the money Polydeuces had won from the boxing match, the Argonauts then left the café. After eating their fill back on the Argo, they sailed for the Symplegades with high spirits and full bellies.

  Even when they spotted the two huge blue rocks in the sea ahead, they remained jolly, making jokes to keep themselves amused. “The color of those rocks really clashes with our armor,” said Zetes.

  Grinning, Atalanta added, “Yeah, and going between them strikes me as a bad idea.”

  “I think this adventure calls for a rock ’n’ roll song!” said Orpheus, making everyone laugh.

  Their good mood changed to alarm, however, as they drew closer to the Symplegades. Abruptly the crew dragged their oars, causing Medea to grab the railing to keep fr
om tumbling as the ship lurched. Looking to see why they were slowing, she saw that all around them broken wood timbers floated in the sea.

  “Do you think those boards came from other ships destroyed by the Symplegades?” Calais ventured, bending over the railing to look. No one replied, but there was no need. The answer was obvious: Yes!

  “Those two rocks are way bigger than Phineas made them out to be,” exclaimed Jason. “This may turn out to be our greatest trial yet.”

  Leaning against the rail up near the figurehead, Medea and Glauce had a good view of the treacherous Clashers ahead of them. “If Jason thinks we can squeak through the narrow passage between those rocks, then he’s an ArgoNUT!” Medea worried aloud.

  The figurehead overheard her and moaned. “And since I’m at the front of the ship, I’ll be first through. Woe is me. I’ve got a feeling I’m going to wind up in splinters!”

  “They’re right. This is a bad idea,” Tiphys cautioned Jason.

  “Rather than risk getting squished, we could lift the ship out of the water and carry it overland through Turkey,” suggested Argus. “Athena designed the Argo with a shallow hull to make that possible. It’ll be slow and tiring work, but at least we’ll live to tell the tale.”

  Slow? Medea liked the sound of that. With the added time, maybe she could finally put that arrow in her pocket to good use and hopefully end this quest once and for all. She’d opened her mouth to vote for the idea, when they heard a crash.

  BAM! A short distance ahead of the ship, the two blue rocks body-slammed each other. Afterward the crew was startled to hear deep laughter.

  Atalanta pulled her oar from the water and placed it across her lap. “Was that . . . those rocks? Laughing?”

  Sure enough, the rocks had voices. And they were guffawing thunderously, gleeful at the Argonauts’ approach. “C’mon through, sailors! We won’t slam you. Promise!” called the tricky Symplegades.

  No one believed them, of course.

  Standing up, Jason propped one sandaled foot on the nearest bench and then eyed each of his crew members in turn, as if appraising their abilities. His glance lingered on a crewman with shaggy hair and eyeglasses. “Euphemus, you’re the keenest-eyed guy I know,” he said at last. “Think your aim is good enough to throw something directly between those rocks?”

  Euphemus, who Medea recalled had been Dionysus’s hero figure back at MOA, leaped from his bench a dozen rows up from the tiller. “Sure. What do you want me to throw?” he asked, looking around for a suitable object.

  “Phineas suggested a dove. . . .” At Jason’s words, the gaze of every Argonaut lifted to search the sky. However, it was empty of birds right now.

  Good thing, thought Medea. Even if there had been birds, hurling a live dove at the rocks seemed pretty mean to her. But it gave her an idea. She gestured at the bird pillows lying on the benches. “You may not have a real bird, but you do have—”

  “I know, Jason! Why don’t you throw the dove pillow that Lemnos girl gave you?” Glauce said, talking over Medea. Once again Glauce seemed to have guessed what she had been about to say and then stolen her idea. And once again there was no way to prove this without sounding whiny. When, oh when, would Medea learn to speak her ideas louder and faster?

  “Good plan!” Jason approved.

  Eagerly Glauce dashed to Jason’s bench at the very back of the ship, snatched up the pillow Hypsipyle had made, and hurried back up the aisle. Too late! Euphemus had already picked up the bird-shaped pillow from his own bench and headed with it to the front of the ship before she could reach him.

  “Rats,” muttered Glauce, plopping down on Euphemus’s empty bench to glare at Jason’s pillow in her lap. It was an easy guess that she didn’t like that particular one simply because it had been embroidered for her crush by the flirty Hypsipyle.

  “What’s taking you so long?” the Symplegades rumble-mumbled to the ship’s crew. “C’mon, there’s a really cool surprise waiting on the other side of us. Just for you!”

  “What a couple of liars!” Medea said under her breath.

  Holding on to the sail rigging to keep his balance, Jason stood on the raised area of the stern, where he had a good view of the entire ship deck and the sea ahead. “At your stations, Argonauts! Be ready to row hard and fast when I say.” He’d spoken his order quietly to the crew. Because if the rocks could speak, they could probably hear, too, Medea figured.

  After reaching the prow, Euphemus stood on deck to study the clashing rocks, his pillow in hand. When he judged the time right, he started turning in circles like a discus thrower. Once he was almost even with the figurehead, he stopped whirling and pitched the pillow high out over the sea ahead.

  Medea’s heart sang when the dove pillow soared through the gap between those two rocks. Wait! She’d gotten so caught up in this adventure, she’d forgotten that she didn’t want these Argonauts to succeed! However, neither did she want anyone on board to be pulverized, so it was best that this dove plan work.

  BAM! The rocks slammed together . . . and clipped the very tail end of Euphemus’s bird-shaped pillow! Everyone gasped as the pillow’s fabric tore and its tail stuffing puffed out.

  “Row!” Jason urged his crew at that exact moment. “Head for those Clashers while they’re still close together. They’ll want to smash us between them, so they’ll have to move apart when they see us coming. That’s the moment we speed through.”

  “I am so doomed!” the ship’s figurehead wailed. She covered her eyes with both her wooden hands.

  Luckily, the ship zipped ahead and eased smoothly through the gap between the rocks. “Made it!” the Argonauts cheered, and Orpheus crooned:

  “It was a tight squeeze,

  But we got through with ease.”

  Realizing she’d survived, the figurehead opened her eyes and twisted her head around to cheer with the crew. “Woo-hoo!” But then her expression turned curious and she craned her neck toward the back of the ship. “Where’d your bench go, Jason?”

  Huh? Everyone followed her gaze to the place where Jason’s bench usually sat a few feet behind the tiller. It was gone! Somehow one of the jagged rocks had managed to clip the stern and knock the bench into the sea! Those two blue rocks were acting tickled pink as they body-slammed each other, smashing the bench between them. “Score!” they shouted. Their version of a high five, perhaps?

  “A small price to pay!” Jason exclaimed, punching a fist in the air. “We’re getting close to our goal, Argonauts! Onward across the Black Sea to the kingdom of Colchis!”

  Oh no! Medea stood as if frozen halfway between the stern and the ship’s mast. Her mind raced, searching for a last-ditch effort that would stop Jason from reaching her dad’s kingdom. There was the arrow in her pocket, of course. But time was running out. And even if she were able to prick Jason with it so that he began crushing on Glauce, would that girl really be able to convince him to give up his quest when he was so close to finishing it? Doubtful, she thought. Her shoulders slumped.

  Hey! Maybe when no one was watching she could sneakily swim to the Colchis shore once the ship was near enough. Then she could warn her dad of Jason’s approach and intent! But it seemed unlikely no one would notice her absence with all the Argonauts keeping careful watch over the ship and everyone on it, day and night. If she didn’t do something fast, though, her dad was going to lose his prized fleece and be dethroned. According to Circe’s prophecy, anyway!

  Medea’s blue eyes burned with frustrated, angry tears. Uh-oh. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fry a hole in the hull of the ship and sink it! Hmm. Now there was an idea! Sure, it was kind of drastic, but what other choice did she have? They were close to a string of islands now, so everyone could swim to one of them. The crew would be okay.

  Still, if anyone discovered she’d purposely sunk the Argo, Orpheus would probably write a song about it. And when Apollonius made his musical, she’d be the villain!

  Her dad’s whole kingdom was at stake, th
ough. So sinking the ship it had to be! Medea had never before tried to bring forth her terrible power on purpose. But now she tuned out everything around her and searched her brain for thoughts that would be guaranteed to make her truly angry or immensely frustrated. Like Jason overthrowing her dad as ruler of Colchis! And Glauce one-upping her all the time! Within minutes her eyes glowed with fire. Hooray! It was working! Having put herself in a totally bad mood, she hunched her shoulders and rammed her fists into her pockets.

  “Ow!” she cried out. The fire left her eyes and she jerked her left hand out of her pocket. The tip of Eros’s mini arrow was stuck in her palm! Overcome by her anger, she’d momentarily forgotten about that arrow. And she’d accidentally pricked herself with it!

  Shaking her arm, Medea flung the arrow from her hand, high over the ship’s rail, where it fell into the sea and was quickly swept away. She glanced down at her palm and saw that the arrow tip had left a small, pink, heart-shaped mark on it. Strangely dizzy now, she stumbled, tripped on the rope coil, and pitched forward. She was falling overboard!

  A strong hand grabbed her and pulled her back from danger. “Hey, watch out. You almost went swimming with the sea monsters. You okay?”

  Medea looked up at her rescuer. “Jason?” His wavy chestnut hair suddenly looked glossier than before, his brown eyes more sparkly, his muscles bigger. He even seemed smarter somehow.

  A happy, fizzy feeling filled her. “Whoa, I never noticed how cute you are!” she told him.

  Instantly his cheeks turned red and he took a step backward.

  “Sorry!” She slapped her uninjured hand over her mouth, realizing she had embarrassed them both. What was wrong with her? It was Eros’s fault. Him and his dumb crush-causing mini arrow! Ye gods! She was pretty sure she was now crushing for the very first time. On her dad’s enemy—Jason!

  Unable to stop herself, Medea slid onto an empty bench and patted the seat beside her. Batting her eyelashes at him like she’d seen Hypsipyle do, she said, “Hey, come sit by me. I’ve got some ideas on how you can get that fleece.” What am I doing? some part of her demanded to know as soon as the words left her mouth. But it seemed she was as helplessly besotted with Jason now as Heracles had been with his shield. Even though she knew deep down that she didn’t truly like-like Jason, she couldn’t stop herself from acting all goo-goo and gaga over him.