The Eye of Zeus

by Alane Adams

“Or a thunderstorm,” Damian added. “Like this morning in the cafeteria. You were definitely mad.”

  Athena nodded. “One day, you will learn the language to call it at will. But be wary. Using your powers will draw Ares to you. He mustn’t find you. We will be relocating you somewhere immediately.”

  “Wait—what? No! I like it here.”

  Athena shook her head. “It is too dangerous now. Events are in motion. You will be hidden again—perhaps Nebraska. I hear the cornfields are lovely.”

  She climbed back onto her pedestal. “Await the sign, Princess of Argos. Into hiding you must go. If Ares finds you, it will be the end of Olympus. Do you hear me? Olympus and everything around it will be destroyed.”

  Her body stiffened as she resumed her pose. The wind stilled, and Athena was a statue again.

  “Holy pepperoni,” Angie said. “Did that just happen?”

  “I’m entirely uncertain how that was possible,” Damian allowed.

  “I have a brother.” One I will never get to see, I realized with a sharp pain in my gut.

  My friends looked at me with pity in their eyes.

  Angie squeezed my shoulder. “We should go. Pops doesn’t like it when I’m late.”

  We turned around—and found a beefy Dalmatian blocking our way. It started shaking just like Weezer. Before I could shout a warning to the others, another spotted head appeared next to the first. Its eyes glowed red, and its nails rasped on the concrete as it prowled closer.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Damian asked as we backed away.

  “Yup. Told you I wasn’t lying.”

  Angie pulled a comb from her back pocket and flicked it open, revealing a flimsy switchblade.

  My eyes popped. “Seriously, Angie? A knife?”

  She waved it at the mutt. “Pops gave it to me for my birthday. Says a girl needs to know how to protect herself. What do either of you have?”

  Damian shrugged, holding out empty hands.

  A crazy idea popped into my head. “Athena said Zeus gifted me with the power to control the weather. Let’s see what I can do.” I linked my fingers together and pushed my palms out, cracking my knuckles.

  Clenching my right hand into a tight fist, I imagined what I needed. Rain? No. Thunder? Not much help against a two-headed dog.

  Then an image lit up the backs of my eyes. An image of a bright white lightning bolt.

  That will do nicely.

  Instantly, my hand tingled with electricity. I opened and closed my fist, feeling the energy build until the most incredible, no, awesome thing ever happened.

  A sizzling bolt of pure energy the length of my forearm appeared in my hand. It jumped and pulsed, as if it couldn’t wait to be unleashed.

  I have the power to call lightning. Cool.

  It was like holding a live wire. The hair on my arm stood up as white energy crackled and danced along the bolt. The two-headed Dalmatian howled, and then it charged us.

  I didn’t have time to think. I threw my arm forward as it leaped, embedding the glowing bolt in its chest. It froze in midair, encased in a halo of searing electricity. It shook violently as glowing white fire quickly consumed it, incinerating it into a pile of ash.

  We stood in shocked silence as the wind scattered the ashes across the plaza.

  Angie was the first to speak.

  “Did you really just cremate a two-headed dog with lightning?”

  I couldn’t answer her because I was too busy freaking out. My breath came in ragged gasps, leaving me light-headed and woozy.

  “Come on,” Damian said, tugging on my arm. “We better go before something worse shows up.”

  CHAPTER 7

  After we exited the subway, Angie and Damian offered to walk me home, but I needed some time alone to clear my head. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket and walked the six blocks to the home of my current foster family. The Harolds were nice enough people—they’d raised a few kids of their own, so they didn’t blow up every time I left my cereal bowl in the sink. And Mrs. H was a decent cook.

  But I still felt like a visitor every time I walked in the door. That’s part of being in the system. You always have a go-bag packed in case things go south.

  I let myself in, relieved to find the apartment empty. They’d left a note saying they were at their weekly ballroom dance class, and there were leftovers in the fridge. I had no appetite, so I headed straight for my room and flopped on my bed, staring at the ceiling. In one day, I’d been chased by two-headed dogs, talked to statues, wielded lightning bolts, and, yeah, found out my dad was Zeus.

  I dug in the drawer of my nightstand and pulled out the small round mirror, the one Carl had said was tucked in my blanket when he found me. I hadn’t looked at it in months. The front side was polished glass. I studied my blue-green eyes and freckles, wondering why Zeus would give me a useless mirror.

  I sat up.

  Zeus was some kind of all-powerful god. Why would he hand out a useless trinket?

  Unless … it wasn’t useless.

  I turned the mirror over. The tarnished silver back had six indented shapes arranged in a circle. They were all different: an upside-down triangle, a horn, a crescent moon, a boomerang, an S shape, and a pointed oval that might be a feather.

  I hadn’t given it much thought before, but now I wondered if it was some kind of code. Maybe a secret message?

  Next day at school, I cornered Damian by his locker.

  “Look at this.” I showed him the mirror.

  “What is it?”

  “Zeus gave it to me.”

  “Shh!” Damian put a finger over my lips, looking around nervously. “The walls have ears.”

  “That makes no sense. Walls don’t have ears.”

  “It’s a saying. Strange things have been happening. We have to be careful. Let me take a closer look.” He turned it over in his hands. “What do these shapes mean?”

  “No idea.”

  We were so busy staring at it we didn’t see Julia Pillsbury swoop down on us.

  “What have we here?” She snatched the mirror from Damian’s hands. “That’s mine. I’ve been looking everywhere for it.”

  “Knock it off, Julia. You know it’s not yours. Give it back.” I held out my hand.

  “I lost this last week, didn’t I, Mitzie?” she said to one of the sycophants that always trailed her around.

  The girl bobbed her head obediently. “Your favorite.”

  Julia stroked the mirror as if it were a long-lost treasure. “Daddy bought it for me on his last trip to Europe. I should report you to Mr. Arnold for theft.” She put a finger to her chin. “That would certainly get you expelled.”

  This girl really was the most infuriating thing. Maybe a lightning bolt to that perfect face would change her tune.

  “Don’t lose your temper,” Damian said in my ear. “You heard Athena. You can’t draw attention to yourself.”

  I hated when Damian was right. I pasted on a fake smile, trying to keep my temper in check. “Look, Julia, it’s just some old mirror I found. It’s not worth anything.”

  “Then you won’t care if I keep it.” With a satisfied smile, she tucked it in her bag and waltzed off with Mitzie in tow.

  Angie walked up, chewing noisily on a wad of pink bubblegum. “What’d I miss?”

  “Julia has something of mine,” I said, seething. “But I’ve an idea how to get it back. Cover for me next period—I have to duck out. Won’t take long. I’ll see you at lunch.”

  “Sure, Katzy, whatever you say.”

  “Be careful,” Damian warned, placing a hand on my arm.

  “Relax, I’m not going to use my powers.”

  Angie waited for me in the lunch line, looking around anxiously. I slid in beside her and grabbed a tray.

  “Where’d you go?” she asked as we inched our way forward. “Mrs. Heaton had a tiz-fit because you weren’t there, but I told her you were distraught over your project getting ruined.”

 
“Thanks, Angie.” I spied Julia sitting at her usual table surrounded by her fan club.

  Perfect.

  The lunch ladies working the counter were a pair of unkempt sisters named Ilsa and Elsa. Ilsa glared at me as I held my tray out, then scooped a glop of spaghetti on my plate. Her hair stood out in a frizzy ball around her head, and dried-on food bits stained her blue uniform.

  I moved on to Elsa. She could be Ilsa’s ugly twin, only she had this crazy ability to roll her eyes in a circle whenever she looked at you. Elsa dumped a pile of steamed spinach next to the pasta, daring me with a roll of her eyes to complain.

  I grabbed a tall carton of milk and, checking no one was watching, dumped out half of it into the crushed ice that held the cartons. Then I took a small blue bottle out of my pocket, emptied the white fluid into the opening, and popped in a straw.

  “What are you doing?” Angie asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  The thing about Julia is she thinks everything belongs to her, including other people’s lunches, and no one ever complains because, well, she’s Julia Pillsbury.

  As we walked past Julia’s table, I said loudly, “You know, Angie, I love milk sooo much. I cannot eat lunch without it.”

  Predictably, Julia popped up and snagged the carton off my tray. “Gee, thanks, Phoebe. I feel the same way.”

  I made just enough of a fuss to be convincing, then scurried to join Angie at a table Damian had saved for us.

  “What was that about, Katzy?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Julia drained the milk with her straw, slurping up the last few drops, then flashed a satisfied grin at me over her shoulder. I smiled back and waited.

  It took about ten minutes.

  Julia squirmed, then her face scrunched up. Her arm went around her stomach. With a startled look, she pushed back from the table and ran out of the lunchroom.

  I jumped to my feet. “Come on. This I want to see.”

  Damian stood warily. “Maybe I should wait here.” But Angie collared him and dragged him out to the hallway.

  “Which way did she go?” I asked.

  “The girl’s bathroom is that way,” Angie said, pointing left.

  We hurried to a set of green doors, one leading in, one out. I pressed my ear up against the metal. It sounded like a stray cat wallering inside.

  “She’s in there.”

  I pushed open the door. The sound of sobs echoed in the tiled room.

  Damian held back. “I can’t go in there. It’s the girl’s bathroom.”

  “Stop being such a sissy.” Angie gave him a shove. “It doesn’t have cooties.”

  I took a wary step in. Four stalls ran along each side. All the doors were open but one. A row of sinks under a steel mirror lined the back wall.

  “Julia, are you in here?”

  The girl sniffled loudly. “Here, take your stupid mirror and go away.”

  She slid the trinket under the stall door. I scooped it up, grinning triumphantly. We had just turned to go when there was an ominous gurgle from her stall.

  “Julia, are you okay?”

  A loud scream echoed in the small room. A second later, a huge gush of water shot into the air, and with it, Julia. Her arms and legs flailed in the rushing spout, then she landed on the floor next to us.

  The stall door burst open as a scaly green neck poked its way out of the shattered toilet, tearing the metal stall apart as if it were paper. A dragon-like head with serpentine amber eyes topped the long neck. Its spiny jaw was filled with big, sharp-looking serrated teeth.

  As if one scary head wasn’t bad enough, the toilet next to the first shattered, and the rest of the metal stalls were flung aside as a second, third, and then a fourth head appeared out of the pipes, tearing up the tile as the monster struggled to free itself.

  “What is that?” I cried.

  “It l-l-looks l-like a hydra,” Damian stuttered. “This is bad.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The monster clawed its way out, looming larger as it freed itself from the pipes. Once it was loose, there would be no stopping it. Julia screamed as the hydra heads let out a joint roar, and then thankfully, she fainted.

  “Angie, help me with Julia.”

  We dragged the girl back toward the doors as I tried to think up a plan. Athena had said to be careful using my powers, but if I didn’t do something, this four-headed toilet monster was going to destroy my school.

  I opened and closed my fist. The lightning bolt came faster this time, a jagged bolt of glowing white fire. One of the heads swung toward me, and its maw opened. All I saw were drool-covered teeth and glowing eyes as it snapped at my head. I cocked my arms up and brought the bolt around for a home run. The bolt sliced through the neck, cleaving the head clean off and sending it bouncing against the wall.

  “Yes!” I pumped my fist.

  “No!” Damian grabbed my arm as I lined up for another swing. “Whatever you do, don’t take a head off.”

  “Why not?”

  “Two more will grow back.”

  At his words, the stumpy neck shuddered and split. A pair of matching heads pushed themselves out, making it a total of five snarling heads in the bathroom.

  “Now you tell me!”

  The hydra shook the destroyed toilet stalls off and walked forward on scaly three-toed feet. It looked like something that had crawled out of a swamp. Thick, muscular legs held up a fat, squatty body. Its tail whipped the air, smashing down on the sinks and destroying them.

  It seemed to be afraid of my lightning bolt. I waved it in front of me, holding the hydra back. The heads snarled and snapped, trying to get at our little group.

  “How do we kill it, Damian?” Angie clutched her flimsy switchblade.

  “It’s impossible. We’d have to cut off all its heads before it can regrow them.”

  “Not impossible. We just need a weapon,” I said. “A really powerful one.”

  I clenched the lightning bolt and closed my eyes, ignoring the snarls of the hydra. The bolt grew hotter in my hand until it was almost unbearable. When I opened my eyes, the bolt was as tall as me and shaped like a staff. I was starting to like these powers of mine! I spun it in a circle, testing its strength.

  “Damian, can you distract it?”

  “Me? Why me?” But he reluctantly stepped forward, waggling his hands at the nearest head. “Hey, squid breath, come and get me.”

  The head whipped down, snapping at him. Its spiny teeth came within inches of Damian before I slashed down with one end of the lightning staff.

  The crackling bolt cut through the flesh as if it were butter. Gooey green blood sprayed over us. I swiped it from my eyes and ducked as two more heads swooped down toward me.

  Spinning, I brought my weapon around in a slicing arc. Head number two bounced on the ground. I jumped on it, using it to lever onto the stump of its neck, and leaped toward the third head. I managed to swing my arms down, but before I could land a blow, it knocked my feet out from under me with its tail, sending me flying against the wall.

  While I picked up my bruised body, Angie got in on it, shouting, “Over here, you slimy bucket of fish guts.”

  Two heads veered toward her, snapping at her waving hands. She slipped in the green muck that smeared the floor and ended up flat on her back. The pair of slavering heads went after her. I took a running leap and swung the staff with two hands, slicing both heads off in midair.

  She gave me a relieved nod of thanks.

  “Hurry, Phoebe, we’ve only got a few seconds,” Damian warned.

  The stumpy necks were shaking and vibrating as the hydra regenerated.

  The last head was bigger than the others. It hovered high, keeping out of reach. It swung its body around, taking out more stalls as its spiked tail came down with a thwack, aiming for my friends. Angie tackled Damian, sliding in the gunk out of reach.

  I jumped on the hydra’s back, coming face-to-face with the last head. I was about to swing the staff
when our eyes locked. There was something familiar about them. I had seen those amber eyes before. I hesitated, and it bit down on my thigh. A burning fire tore through my veins. I didn’t have the strength to swing the bolt, so I settled for shoving it in its glowering eye. The beast thrashed, tossing me off as it tried to shake the lightning bolt loose, and then it exploded, spattering the walls with gooey green flesh.

  I blinked away the goo and looked around.

  The bathroom was utterly wrecked. Water sprayed from the broken pipes. We were covered in hydra slime from head to toe. My skin was on fire, like I was burning up with a fever. Damian helped me up while Angie put an arm under Julia, and together we limped out into the hallway.

  Spots danced in crazy circles behind my eyes. Principal Arnold came rushing toward us, shouting, “What is the meaning of this?”

  The hall rapidly filled with students and teachers.

  “The bathroom pipes exploded,” Damian said. “A sewer accident. You do not want to go in there.”

  “It was a monster,” Julia said, dazed eyes blinking. “I saw it. It was huge and it had, like, eight heads.”

  Angie laughed. “Poor Julia slipped and bumped her head. She’s talking a little cray-cray right now.” She waggled her finger in a circle at her temple.

  Mr. Arnold put a consoling arm around Julia, leading her away. “There, there, Miss Pillsbury, let’s call your father.” He glared at us over his shoulder. “You three, clean that mess up.”

  I didn’t bother to point out the bathroom was destroyed and far beyond our ability to clean up. We were alive. And in one piece.

  And then I fainted.

  CHAPTER 9

  When I came to, I was lying on a sofa in a darkened room. My leg throbbed where the hydra had bitten me. I looked around, recognizing Miss Carole’s office. My uniform was shredded and stained, but someone had left a stack of clean clothes, probably from the Lost and Found. I quickly changed into the jeans and clean T-shirt, then slipped on the denim jacket as the door opened and the spry guidance counselor entered, holding a small plastic cup. She turned on a small lamp.