Typhon and the Winds of Destruction

by Joan Holub

  “Aaaaachoooooo!” Poseidon sneezed so strongly that Demeter’s fingers lost their grip.

  Braaaaaaaaaap! Typhon let out a loud, long burp, covering up the sound of the sneeze. As his mouth opened wide, a stream of hot orange flame shot from it. The musical boy had to jump out of the way. He tumbled onto his back on the table.

  Zeus remembered the boy’s song. Typhon burns with the flame of a dragon. . . . Is that what this Creature of Chaos was? Some kind of half-giant, half-dragon?

  The boy leaped to his feet. “You should warn me before you do that!” he scolded Typhon. “You’ll fry me like an egg!”

  “Then you shall be all the more delicious if I decide to eat you,” Typhon replied. He banged the table again. “Play another one.”

  The boy nodded and strummed the lyre again. This time the music was slow and soothing, like a lullaby. Next to Zeus, Demeter let out a small sigh.

  “He seems very sweet,” she whispered. “And not just because he’s covered in sugar.”

  The boy began to sing again.

  “Close your eyes and go to sleep.

  Lose yourself in slumber deep.

  Count little mice inside your head,

  And swallow them up until they’re dead.”

  Demeter grimaced, and Zeus looked at the pattern of mice on the blanket.

  Well, Typhon is partly made of snakes, and snakes love mice, so I guess that makes sense, he reasoned.

  The boy sang another verse, and this one was the meanest yet. But the pleasant tune of the lullaby kept the giant calm.

  “Close your eyes, you big old oaf.

  Your breath smells like moldy meat loaf.

  You’re mean and cruel, you bag of air.

  I hope you fall right off your chair.”

  Luckily for the boy, the giant was sound asleep and soon began to snore. When the first snore escaped his hairy nostrils, a whirlwind escaped. It blew the loaf of bread off the table, and it wooshed the dust bunnies around on the floor.

  “He really is a big bag of wind!” Poseidon exclaimed.

  Zzzzzzzzzz.

  The giant exhaled again, and this time the wind knocked over one of the chairs.

  “He’s going to destroy this place if he doesn’t stop,” Demeter observed worriedly.

  Zzzzzzzzzz.

  This time the snore sent the boy and his lyre flying right off the table! The Olympian friends watched in alarm as the whirlwind tossed him about. At last he landed with a plop, safely and softly, on the gigantic bed. His head barely missed the pillow under which the Olympians were hiding!

  “Now!” Zeus whispered to Poseidon and Demeter. They crept out from under the pillow and gathered around the boy, who slowly sat up, looking dazed. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the Olympians.

  “Who are you? What do you do?” the rhyming boy demanded.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Apollo’s Tale

  Long story,” Zeus said. “But don’t worry. We’re on your side. We’ll tell you more while we’re getting out of here. I mean, Typhon won’t sleep forever.” He nodded toward the napping giant.

  “But I don’t understand,” the boy said. “Did Typhon capture you, too, while he was outside?”

  “No, we came here on our own,” Zeus replied. “So you were captured by him?”

  As they talked, they made their way across the enormous bed. Walking on the lumpy mattress was kind of like walking on quicksand, the way they sank down each time they took a step. But then they’d bob right up again. Poseidon flailed his arms, trying not to lose his balance as they moved.

  “Captured by the Cronies,” the boy explained as they bobbed up and down. “My twin sister, Artemis, and I were out hunting with bows and arrows when they attacked us. They brought me to Typhon, but I’m not sure where they took my sister. I’m worried about her.”

  Maybe they took her to King Cronus, and he swallowed her, just like he swallowed the five Olympians before us, Zeus thought. But then, why didn’t he swallow this boy? Isn’t he an Olympian too?

  The boy looked so sad, and Demeter gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “I’m Demeter, and this is Zeus and Poseidon,” she said. “What’s your name?”

  “Apollo,” he answered.

  Zzzzzzzzzz. Typhon snored again, and this time the wind knocked them all over. They landed flat on their backs, like turtles, with their arms and legs in the air. They struggled to steady themselves in the soft mattress so they could stand back up.

  “So what’s with Typhon and this wind thing?” Zeus asked as he tried to sit up.

  “Typhon’s partly giant and partly beast. He’s quite dangerous, to say the least,” Apollo replied in a singsong voice. Then he got more serious. “He has the power to create huge winds and storms.”

  Zeus got to his feet first. He made his way to the corner of the bed and looked down at the post they had climbed up earlier.

  “It might be harder to climb down this thing than it was to climb up it,” he said as the other three quickly reached him.

  “What if we climb down the bedspread instead?” Demeter suggested. “It will be easy to grip, almost like climbing down a rope.”

  Zeus nodded. “That makes sense.”

  He grabbed onto the bedspread and slowly made his way over the side of the bed.

  “This works great!” he called up to the rest. Poseidon started to climb down too. Apollo stashed his lyre in his sack so he could have both hands free.

  Zzzzzzzzzz. Another whirlwind shot from Typhon’s nostrils and caused the hanging part of the bedspread to sway back and forth.

  “Whoooaaaaa!” Zeus and Poseidon cried out, hanging on tightly. Up top, Demeter and Apollo grabbed the fabric, trying to steady it.

  When the bedspread finally stopped moving, Zeus scrambled down to the floor before the next snore could come. Poseidon jumped down next to him, and together they steadied the fabric as Demeter and then Apollo also climbed down.

  Zeus nodded across the room to the crack at the bottom of the door. “That’s how we got in,” he told Apollo. “Hey, why didn’t you try to escape when Typhon was out? Couldn’t you squeeze through the crack?”

  Apollo shook his head. “Alas, I cannot escape, I fear. This pollen is magic; it keeps me here.”

  He motioned to the golden grains all over his clothing. Demeter stepped up to get a closer look.

  “I thought it was sugar, but it’s pollen, all right.” she remarked. “That’s strange.”

  Apollo nodded. “The crystals are pollen, this is true. But from which plant, I can’t tell you.”

  “Dude, do you always talk in rhyme?” Poseidon asked.

  Apollo shrugged. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It helps me think, this I know.”

  Poseidon shook his head. “ ‘No’ and ‘know’? That’s the best you can do?”

  “Hey, give me a break. I’m bummed,” Apollo replied in his own defense. “You guys can get out of here, but I’m stuck.”

  Poseidon held up his trident. “To escape, you just need to get rid of the pollen, right?” he said with a grin. “No problem!”

  He held the trident over Apollo’s head. Water rained down on the boy from the trident’s three prongs. But the pollen didn’t wash off. It stuck to Apollo’s skin and clothing like glue.

  Poseidon frowned. “Why didn’t that work?”

  Zzzzzzzzzz! A powerful wind whipped across the floor, sending a giant dust bunny rolling toward them like a huge tumbleweed.

  “Dodge it!” Zeus yelled. The four Olympians dove in four different directions. After the dust bunny blew past them, they wearily got back to their feet.

  “What are we going to do? We have got to get out of here before snore-guy wakes up!” Poseidon exclaimed.

  “We can’t leave,” Demeter said. “Not without Apollo.”

  Then Zeus remembered something. “And not without the Magic Seeds, either. That’s why we climbed the beanstalk all the way up here in the first place.”


  “Beanstalk?” Apollo asked, puzzled.

  “We’re all at the top of a giant beanstalk,” Zeus explained. “Didn’t you know? It started growing just this morning.”

  Apollo looked thoughtful. “Hmm. Magic Seeds and a beanstalk coming out of nowhere,” he muttered. Then his face brightened. “I think I know these Magic Seeds! So I can give you what you need!”

  “Really?” Zeus asked.

  “Well, I think so, anyway,” Apollo answered. “You see, Typhon has a pouch of these oval-shaped glittering yellow things. He likes to count them just before he goes to bed each night. I thought they were coins at first, and so I asked him why he was counting his money all the time.”

  “What did he say?” asked Demeter.

  “He just laughed,” said Apollo. “He said that he wasn’t counting money right now, but soon he would be. He said that King Cronus would trade many pouches of gold coins in exchange for this one pouch of oval thingies. When I asked him why, he replied, ‘With gold you can buy anything, but with what’s in the pouch you can grow anything.’ They must be the Magic Seeds you’re looking for!”

  “I’m sure glad you didn’t sing all of that,” Poseidon remarked.

  Zeus felt his pulse race with excitement. “You’re right!” he told Apollo. “Those must be the Magic Seeds. I bet if one of them dropped out of the pouch and fell to Earth, and that’s how the beanstalk grew!”

  “So where is the pouch?” Demeter asked, getting excited too.

  Apollo pointed to the door, where a gold pouch hung from the doorknob. They all started to make their way across the floor toward it.

  Zzzzzzzzzz. Typhon snored, and another wind whipped up.

  “Quick! Hold hands!” Demeter called out. The four Olympians gripped hands and fought against the wind until they reached the door.

  “Trident, long!” Poseidon commanded. The trident’s staff grew and grew until it reached the doorknob. Then Poseidon managed to hook the string of the pouch on the prongs of the trident. His tongue stuck out of his mouth as he concentrated on lifting the pouch off the knob and gently lowering it to the floor.

  “It’s really heavy,” Poseidon reported. “And huge.” To a giant it would seem a small pouch. But it was actually about the same size as the Olympians.

  “How will we get it down the beanstalk?” Demeter wondered aloud. She reached out to touch it. The moment her fingers made contact, the pouch shrunk to the size of a small purse that would fit her! As Zeus wondered how this magic had happened, she quickly hung it around her neck.

  “Problem solved,” she said with a pleased smile. “Now we just have to figure out how to get Apollo out of here too.”

  ZZZZZZZZZZ. Typhon let out an extra-loud snort this time.

  Crash! The wind gust blew the sugar bowl across the table, and it fell to the floor with a clatter. The pollen inside it spilled out. At the same time, the pollen that had been stuck to Apollo fell right off!

  “Happier words I have not spoken. It looks like the spell on me has been broken!” Apollo sang, smiling.

  But the Olympians couldn’t celebrate yet.

  “Who goes there?” Typhon bellowed. The crash had awakened him. “Where is my Olympian? I will find youuuuuuu!” He screeched like a wild bird, roared like a lion, and growled like a bear as he slid off his chair. Then he spotted them.

  “What treachery is this?” he roared. “Not one of you shall escape!”

  “Run!” Zeus cried, and he and the others scurried through the crack at the bottom of the door.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Attack of the Giant Bees

  The four Olympians raced through the tall grass, making their way to the beanstalk. Typhon’s shadow loomed over them—and then they heard him bellow a command.

  “Bees! Attack!” he roared.

  “Bees?” Zeus wondered out loud as they ran. He had been raised by a bee named Melissa. So he wasn’t afraid of bees like most people were. Melissa had always been nice to him.

  “Sizzling stingers! They’re enormous!” Poseidon cried out, pointing.

  “These bees will harm us, this I fear. We really must get out of here!” sang Apollo.

  Zeus looked back as he ran. A small army of furry yellow-and-black bees swarmed toward him. Each bee was as big as one of the Olympians.

  The vibrations of their loud humming shook the ground underneath the Olympians’ feet. The bees’ glossy black eyes seemed to stare right through Zeus. Their twitching jaws and long pink tongues made them look like monsters. A stinger as long and as sharp as a warrior’s spear extended from the back of each bee’s abdomen.

  “Hurry!” Demeter yelled.

  “We’ll never outrun them,” Poseidon countered. He waved his trident. “We should stop and fight.”

  Zeus’s mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do. Poseidon was right—they couldn’t outrun the bees. But even though the bees were terrifying, Zeus didn’t want to fight them. It wasn’t the bees’ fault. If Typhon hadn’t stirred them up, they probably wouldn’t even be chasing the Olympians.

  He could see the top of the beanstalk up ahead. They were getting closer. Tendrils snaked out from the stalk, laced with leaves and closed buds.

  If only the buds were open, Zeus thought. There’s nothing bees like more than getting pollen from flowers.

  Then he saw Demeter running next to him, and something clicked in his head.

  “Demeter! Touch the flower buds!” he yelled.

  Demeter looked at him, confused.

  “Just do it!” Zeus urged.

  The bees were almost on them now, and Poseidon gripped his trident tightly, ready to fight.

  “Not yet!” Zeus told him. The urge to keep everyone safe rose strongly in him. After all, Pythia had told him he was the leader of the Olympians. And keeping others safe was what good leaders did! If the Olympians could defeat the bees without fighting them, everyone would win.

  Demeter put on a burst of speed and raced up to the nearest tendril of the stalk. She touched the first flower bud she reached, and it opened right up.

  “Touch more of them!” yelled Zeus.

  Demeter quickly dodged among the vines, opening bud after bud. The bees stopped chasing and zipped right toward the flowers instead. Just as Zeus had hoped they might.

  “It’s working!” he exclaimed.

  Demeter ran back to the three boys and met them as they reached the top of the stalk.

  “We made it,” Zeus said, breathless. “Now we just need to climb down.”

  “Roooowwwr!”

  A shadow crossed over them. The four Olympians looked up to see Typhon looming near, furiously roaring. Flames shot from his nostrils as he glared at them, snorting in anger. The tangle of serpents he had in place of legs flicked their tongues and wriggled in agitation.

  “Bolt, large!” Zeus cried. He nodded at Poseidon, who held up his trident. Then Zeus turned to Demeter and Apollo.

  “Go down! We’ll hold him off!”

  Demeter nodded, but Apollo hesitated. She grabbed him by the hand and tugged. “They’ve got this,” she assured him. Apollo reluctantly followed her.

  Zeus and Poseidon tapped Bolt and the trident together just as Typhon reached down to scoop them up in his meaty hand. A bright light flashed from the two magical objects, startling the giant, and he slithered back—but just for a moment.

  He lunged forward again, angrier than before.

  Splash! Poseidon shot a blast of water right into the giant’s eyes.

  Zap! Zeus shocked him with a sizzling bolt of energy. Typhon’s serpents wiggled wildly, and he began to bleat like an angry goat.

  The boys had succeeded in stunning the giant for just a few seconds. It was enough time for them to start scrambling down the beanstalk.

  “We’re safe! Those snakes can’t slither down a beanstalk,” Poseidon said as they climbed down the stalk from stem to stem.

  “Aiee! Aiee!” The piercing sound of a hawk filled the air, and a wind whippe
d up around them.

  “Don’t forget—he has wings!” Zeus yelled.

  Sure enough, Typhon swooped down from the sky, flying right toward them. Zeus zapped him with another jolt from Bolt and sent the giant tumbling backward through the air.

  The two boys climbed down a few more feet before Typhon charged them again. This time Poseidon blasted him with a powerful jet of water. Zeus and Poseidon kept moving downward, but Typhon charged at them again. Now he hovered in the air and took a long, deep breath.

  “Uh-oh,” said Zeus.

  WHOOOOSH! A hurricane-strength wind blew from Typhon’s powerful lungs and rocked the beanstalk.

  Zeus felt his fingers start to slip. He tightened his grip as his legs were knocked off the vine to wriggle in the air.

  Just above him, Poseidon was blown completely off the stalk. Luckily, he grabbed a vine just in time and hung there, swinging.

  “That guy really is full of hot air!” Poseidon shouted over the sound of the wind.

  Down below, Zeus could see that Apollo and Demeter hadn’t reached the ground yet and were barely hanging on too. If Typhon kept this up, they would all be doomed!

  WHOOOOSH! Another hurricane wind blew, and the beanstalk swayed violently. Zeus almost lost his grip again.

  “Hang on!” he yelled.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Toppled

  The beanstalk rocked back and forth wildly. Zeus’s knuckles turned white as he tried to strengthen his grip.

  Then a loud, groaning sound filled the air. At first Zeus thought it was one of Typhon’s animal sounds. But a second later he realized the sound was coming from the stalk.

  Looking down, he saw the stalk’s giant roots tear up through the dirt. The wind had pulled the roots right from the ground! His stomach lurched as the giant beanstalk began to topple over.

  Down, down, down they went. He closed his eyes as the stalk and the four Olympians along with it plummeted to the ground.

  Thump! To Zeus’s surprise, he wasn’t squashed on impact. He’d fallen on something soft! He opened his eyes. He—along with Poseidon, Demeter, and Apollo—had landed safely on a soft pile of leaves.