by Mary Evans
‘Elliot, we’ve been worried sick,’ said a harassed Athene. ‘You’ve been gone all day. We thought . . .’
‘Mate!’ yelled Hermes, crashing into him with a mid-air hug. ‘I’ve been flying around for, like, hours – where were you?’
‘You said you’d be home soon!’ said Virgo. ‘Yet again, you said something that wasn’t factually accurate! On a related note, I have conducted several controlled experiments and tomatoes do not blush when they see the salad dressing!’
‘You could have let us know you were going to be late, old man,’ said Zeus quietly. ‘Anything could have happened to you.’
‘Well, nothing did,’ said Elliot grumpily, unable to meet Zeus’s piercing stare. ‘Except for my birthday.’
The Gods looked aghast.
‘It’s your birthday?’ said Aphrodite. ‘Elly – you didn’t tell us.’
‘I thought you’d know,’ said Elliot, thinking that he hadn’t had to tell Thanatos. He bit his tongue. He guessed that telling the Gods he’d spent the afternoon with their immortal enemy wouldn’t calm them down.
‘Happy Birthday, mate!’ said Hermes, turning a nearby mug-tree into a huge bunch of balloons with Elliot’s face on. ‘Let’s paaaarty!’
‘No, thanks,’ said Elliot. ‘I’m not in the mood.’
A thought struck him that could save his rubbish day. If his dad received his letter yesterday and sent one straight back, it might have arrived today. That would be a birthday present worth waiting for.
‘Has there been any post for me?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Nothing at all,’ said Zeus quietly.
Great. His dad didn’t give a stuff either. What a loser. All the feelings from a long day flooded through his mind – Mum forgetting his birthday, the Kowalskis, Thanatos’s deal . . . Today was a punishment, not a birthday. He felt a cold rage build in the pit of his stomach.
‘I’m going to feed Bessie.’ He scowled and stormed outside into the cold night air, his head ringing with all the voices he’d heard that day.
But as he trudged across the paddock, one rang out louder than all the others.
Just ask yourself, it said. Who is protecting what?
20. A Different View
‘Oi, oi, oi – not so fast, pal,’ said Hermes, flying down in front of Elliot.
‘Leave me alone,’ growled Elliot, trying to swerve the floating Messenger God.
‘Now listen, mate,’ said Hermes, blocking his path at every turn. ‘We can play dodge the God all night – I got the time. Or we can sit down and bash this out – bosh!’
Elliot tried every which way to get past Hermes, but the Messenger God was too quick. Every step he took to the left, Hermes darted right. Every step to the right, Hermes blocked to the left. Elliot yelled in exasperation. He plonked down on the grass and Hermes floated down next to him. They sat in silence beneath the stars. Elliot felt his anger start to cool.
‘Listen, mate, no one’s saying it’s fair,’ said Hermes gently. ‘’Cos it ain’t.’
Elliot sulked into the grass.
‘Your mum. Thanatos. Your ugly mug,’ said Hermes. ‘Life has not been kind, Elliot Hooper.’
Elliot had to work hard not to smile.
‘You know what we’re like – mad as a bag of spanners,’ said Hermes. ‘We can’t agree on anything – Dad’s shirts don’t even agree with his shorts.’
The smile fought even harder.
‘But the one thing that we are totes united on,’ said Hermes, ‘is you. We are card-carrying, paid-up, fully subscribed members of Team Elliot. We’re behind you all the way, little dude. And if you think that having a toddler strop is gonna get shot of us, you’re thicker than Athene’s unplucked eyebrows. Now – are we in any danger of that mug cracking yet?’
Elliot tried to turn away.
‘I can see you smiling!’ sang Hermes, punching Elliot’s arm gently.
‘I can see you smiling!’ he sang again, right in Elliot’s ear, poking him in the ribs.
It was no use. Elliot burst out laughing as Hermes wrestled him to the floor and sat on his chest.
‘We’re bros, mate,’ he said. ‘You’re my bruvva from anuvva muvva – boom!’
‘All right, all right,’ said Elliot, struggling for breath between laughs and Hermes’s backside squashing his lungs.
‘Now if you promise to keep it quiet, I’ve got a birthday present for you,’ said Hermes, wiggling his eyebrows.
‘I promise, just get off me!’ laughed Elliot, pushing the God aside.
‘Right – get off your bum and hold my wrists like this.’ Hermes grabbed Elliot’s wrists with his hands. ‘Now shut your eyes and count to ten.’
‘Why?’ asked Elliot suspiciously.
‘Because eleven is a stupid number, you turnip,’ said Hermes. ‘Just do it.’
Elliot closed his eyes with a sigh.
‘One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . six . . . seven . . . eight . . . nine . . . ten,’ he counted, opening his eyes again. ‘So what did you . . . AAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!’
Elliot looked at his feet. They were several hundred feet above the ground. He clung to Hermes’s wrists mid-air.
‘I got ya, bruv,’ said Hermes with a wink. ‘Fancy a spin?’
Elliot nodded warily as Hermes started to float through the night sky. They drifted silently over the dark countryside beneath, the occasional lamp cutting a shard of light through the murky air.
‘Right, when you’re ready – let this one go,’ said Hermes, waggling Elliot’s left hand.
Elliot froze. ‘I don’t think I . . .’
‘Like I said – I got ya,’ smiled Hermes. ‘On my count . . . One . . . two . . . three . . .’
Elliot cautiously let go of Hermes’s wrist, just as the Messenger God started to take flight, holding Elliot by his right arm.
‘Put your other arm out . . . boom!’ said Hermes as they made their unsteady way across the darkness. Elliot looked down at the Earth. He was flying.
Shaking a little at the distance between him and solid ground, Elliot felt the cool breeze fly through his body. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he glided through the air. Everything was so clear up here.
‘You ready to step it up a gear?’ grinned Hermes.
Elliot smiled and nodded.
‘Then let’s do this!’ yelled Hermes, kicking his winged trainers together.
‘Woo-hoo!’ Elliot shouted as the sudden burst of acceleration sent them soaring through the night, the rush of air blasting Elliot’s face into a smile of pure adrenaline.
‘Wicked, innit?’ shouted Hermes as they raced over fields and rivers, houses and villages, their laughter carrying through the night air. Elliot watched the world whip beneath him. It all looked so small.
‘Do you trust me?’ Hermes shouted.
‘What?’ yelled Elliot, his ears blasted with air.
‘Do. You. Trust. Me?’
Elliot looked into the smiling face of the winged God.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I do.’
‘Then let go,’ said Hermes with a mischievous grin.
Elliot looked at the dark, hard, distant Earth so far beneath his body.
‘No, thanks,’ he shouted firmly.
‘Mate,’ tutted Hermes with a disapproving shake of his head. ‘Didn’t have you down for a chicken. No bother . . .’
Elliot looked again at the ground whizzing beneath him. He’d have to be crazy to let go – who knew what could happen? Terror? Injury? Death?
But it couldn’t be worse than being called a chicken.
With a deep breath and a terrified cry, he released his grip on Hermes’s arm. He plunged down through the night, free-falling through the darkness. His heart dropped into his stomach as he fell, his body turning end over end until he had no idea which way was up. The ground was getting closer . . . closer . . . too close . . .
‘BOSH!’
He landed square in Hermes’s arms just
feet from the ground as the Messenger God swooped down and rocketed them back up into the night sky.
Elliot panted with fear. That was petrifying. That was dangerous.
That was EPIC.
‘I’ll always catch you, bruv,’ winked Hermes, whooshing higher into the sky. ‘Again?’
‘Yeah!’ shouted Elliot, punching the air.
‘Hold tight!’ shouted Hermes, propelling Elliot upwards and letting him tumble from even higher before catching him by his hands.
‘THIS. IS. AWESOME!’ shouted Elliot as the two friends flew around the night sky like wireless trapeze artists, Hermes flinging Elliot around the darkness before catching him in ever more daring moves. Elliot front-flipped, back-flipped, everything-flipped, laughing breathlessly defying the dark gravity around him.
‘Mate,’ panted Hermes, catching him again after hours of aerobatics, ‘I need a chill. You’re heavier than you look . . .’
Elliot linked wrists with the Messenger God once more, and they flew towards a single cloud in the night sky. At Hermes’s touch, the cloud transformed into a plush, nebulous sofa, and they plopped down on it in fits of exhausted laughter.
‘Just look,’ sighed Hermes when he’d caught his breath, gesturing to the Earth below. ‘I’ll never tire of that.’
Elliot took in the amazing vista from his cloud-top seat.
‘It’s really beautiful from up here,’ he said.
‘It’s really beautiful from down there,’ said Hermes. ‘You just gotta know how to look at it.’
They sat silently for a few moments, drinking in the natural world laid out beneath them.
‘This is what it’s about, mate,’ said Hermes quietly. ‘The Chaos Stones, Thanatos, the Daemons . . . This is what we’re fighting for. Not for our world. For yours. If Thanatos gets his hands on those stones, mate – millions will die. The rest will be his slaves. Not being funny, but we’re talking apocalypse-level bosh-not.’
Elliot bowed his head. Hermes gave him a friendly punch.
‘But this is what we really came up here for,’ he said, looking at his iGod. ‘Bang on schedule in three . . . two . . . one . . .’
The opaque horizon was suddenly split by a ribbon of light, like a dark box being prised open from the inside. The golden band grew wider with every second as the sun lifted the night away from the ground, illuminating the black void with its warm glow. Elliot gasped involuntarily. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever witnessed. The dawn of a new day.
‘You see, bruv?’ whispered Hermes. ‘Even the darkest night lights up again.’
Elliot watched in awe as the day conquered the night, dispelling the shadows to show the intricate detail of life on Earth. It was breathtaking.
‘Blimey – I’d better get you home,’ said Hermes, floating up from the cloud sofa. ‘Mate, seriously – you are not to tell anyone that we did this. ’Theney would turn me into a throw cushion if she ever found I’d had you out all night. Not even joking.’
‘At least you’d help her sore bum,’ grinned Elliot as they linked arms across the sky.
Hermes laughed, guided Elliot back towards his home and flew him up to his open bedroom window. Elliot clambered in and returned Hermes’s fist-bump.
‘Now get some kip,’ grinned Hermes. ‘We’ve gotta spring the Air Stone later and boy do you need your beauty sleep . . .’
Elliot tried to punch his arm, but Hermes dodged out of reach.
‘Too slow,’ he grinned, waggling his fingers before running them through his hair. ‘Happy birthday, bruv. Night night.’
‘Night, Hermes,’ said Elliot, with a calm, happy smile as the Messenger God turned a few flawless somersaults in the air before gliding away. ‘See ya. Bruv.’
Elliot waited for the dark voice to poison his thoughts.
It had nothing to say.
21. Young Man
Several hours later, Elliot was woken by the acrid smell of burning coming from the kitchen. What was . . .? Panic suddenly punched him into action. Was Mum trying to cook by herself? What if she’d left something on the stove? The farmhouse would burn down around him. He threw off his covers and sprinted down the stairs.
But he found Josie sitting calmly at the table, giggling with Hermes at the chaos unfolding around her. It took Elliot a moment to process the scene before him.
Hanging across the kitchen was a banner, constructed from materials Elliot recognized from the recycling bin. Aphrodite was painting HAPY BIRTHDY ELLIT in dripping letters on cereal boxes, discarded magazines and empty toilet rolls. Athene was covering the kitchen table with a whole buffet of burnt offerings, from chargrilled jam sandwiches to a curiously singed trifle. Zeus was covering a cremated cake in bright green icing. It was how Elliot imagined a birthday party in Clownland.
‘Morning, everyone,’ he said cautiously.
‘Oh, no!’ pouted Aphrodite as the letter ‘B’ dripped on her head. ‘We wanted to surprise you.’
‘You’ve certainly done that,’ said Elliot.
‘We wanted to atone for missing your birthday, Elliot,’ said Athene, extinguishing a small cocktail sausage.
‘So we thought we’d throw you a little birthday brunch,’ said Zeus, splatting another spoonful of bogie-coloured icing on the cake. ‘Happy Birthday, old boy!’
‘I tried to help them,’ Hermes whispered with a wink. ‘But they insisted on doing it themselves. Sorry.’
Elliot caught Josie’s eye – she was trying desperately not to laugh, which set Elliot off as well. The two of them started snorting, then giggling, then guffawing, while the Gods stared in confusion.
‘What’s so amusing?’ said Athene, waving the smoke off a bowl of cheesy puffs.
‘Nothing,’ said Elliot, wiping the tears from his eyes. ‘This is really cool. Thank you.’
‘Hope you don’t mind – I crashed here last night,’ said Hermes, filling his coffee cup with brown sludge from the kettle. ‘Hung out with J-Hoops for a bit. She’s wicked, your mum. Tells the dirtiest jokes . . .’
Elliot smiled gratefully at Hermes. He’d given him some sleep. That was the best present of all.
‘What are you all doing?!’ screeched Virgo, storming into the kitchen with bundles of paper. ‘Today’s the day! The day of my quest! The day I regain my kardia! We need to get to the Natural History Museum at once! I’ve constructed a brilliant, flawless plan!’
‘Hide in the bogs until the museum closes?’ said Elliot. ‘Not exactly Mission Impossible, is it?
‘It’s perfect,’ Virgo pronounced. ‘So hurry up! What could be more important!’
‘Lots of things,’ smiled Zeus at Elliot.
‘Anyhow – we gotta make a stop on the way,’ grinned Hermes. ‘We’re off to see an old mate of yours.’
‘Who?’ said Elliot.
‘I’ve had a breakthrough in my research,’ said Athene excitedly. ‘There is a way you can take the Air Stone with no fear of punishment!’
‘Brilliant!’ said Elliot. ‘What is it?’
‘A royal pardon,’ said Athene proudly.
‘What is that?’ asked Virgo, serving herself a bowl of steaming jelly. ‘Something a monarch needs if they break wind?’
‘It’s a bally get-out-of-jail-free card,’ said Zeus. ‘Quite literally.’
‘Brainy Bum was boring on about it all yesterday,’ moaned Aphrodite. ‘If you have a royal pardon, you can’t get in trouble. You just have to go and get it from . . .’
‘The Queen!’ Elliot grinned. It would be fun to see her again.
‘So we need to get a shift on – today’s the last day before the Vault closes,’ said Hermes. ‘I’ll go saddle up Uncle H’s chariot – that Bessie’s been giving the stallions the eye in the shed for days, she’s a right flirty cow . . . So we’ll drop in on the Queen, get your royal pardon, bosh, bang and a double portion of boom.’
‘Top hole,’ said Zeus. ‘But be on your guard at all times.’
‘I’m so jealous,’ pouted
Aphrodite. ‘I’d love to meet the Queen. She’s such an inspiring figure of female leadership. And her bling is off the scale . . .’
‘We’re going to be busy,’ said Athene, handing Zeus and Aphrodite pieces of parchment. ‘These arrived from Hera this morning. They’re our assessments. We must complete all these tasks before the end of the day.’
‘Why the bally heck would I need to cartwheel backwards while reciting Hamlet!’ roared Zeus reading his sheet. ‘This is outrageous!’
‘Let’s just get it done and get these zappers off,’ said Athene. ‘Children – good luck today. We’ll be thinking of you.’
‘All will be perfect,’ said Virgo. ‘We will return with the Air Stone tonight.’
Elliot’s hand went to the Earth Stone in his father’s watch. By the end of the day, he could have another Chaos Stone. Zeus was right. With Thanatos in his head, and the power to control the element of Earth in his pocket, one was a heavy burden. Could he handle two? But that was a problem for later. First, he had to get his hands on the Air Stone.
‘Let’s bounce,’ said Hermes, throwing Elliot his satchel. ‘London’s calling! Bosh!’
Having found some convenient roadworks near Green Park, Hermes parked the chariot on the low-way and led Elliot and Virgo through a nearby manhole up into the park itself. Virgo reflected on their last visit to Buckingham Palace, when they had been surprised to discover that in addition to being Head of State and wearing charming hats, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II in fact possessed impressive secret ninja skills.
‘. . . and then she kicked Hypnos’s butt into the middle of next week,’ said Elliot as he recounted their last meeting to Hermes. ‘She’s awesome.’
Virgo had endured a bad night – she’d had barely nine hours sleep. Thoughts of her quest and her kardia ran through her mind. If she was successful, she could return to her perfect life back in Elysium. She waited for this prospect to make her very happy but nothing happened. Perhaps her emotions were still asleep?
The trio headed across Green Park towards the majestic sight of Buckingham Palace. Virgo had observed on her previous visit to London that there was always something happening in every corner of the city. Even on this crisp February afternoon, there was a man juggling beer bottles, a woman dressed as a gold statue and a production of something entitled Peter Pan taking place in the wide green spaces of the Mall.