by Alane Adams
Macario passed by the booths, his head bobbing left and right as if he was looking for something.
“There.” He scurried toward a knot of people huddled around a table.
We pushed ourselves to the front. A shifty-eyed man wearing a red skullcap sat behind the table. On his right hand, he wore a thick ring made of dull metal. In front of him were three battered tin cups. He placed a shiny ball on the table and covered it with the first cup, then swiftly moved the cups in circles, switching them out. A pair of well-dressed teens watched avidly. I followed along, making sure I didn’t lose sight of the cup with the ball.
When he stopped, he folded his arms. “Which one, lads?”
They looked at each other and nodded. “The middle one,” they said in unison.
He lifted it up, but it was empty. He lifted the cup to the right, and the ball rolled out.
My eyes bulged. I had been certain the middle cup was correct.
“Impossible,” one said.
“Do it again,” said the other.
They put more coins on the table.
The man put the ball under the cup and began the ritual again. When he was finished, I was certain, absolutely positive, it was under the left cup.
They pointed to it, and he lifted it up.
Nothing.
“Sorry, lads, you have to keep your eye on it.” He grinned, turning over the right cup to reveal the ball.
The teenagers grumbled, shoving off through the crowd. But I glimpsed something as the man passed his hand over the ball—it wavered. Like it was attracted to his ring.
“Macario, let’s bet,” I said.
“No, this one’s a cheat.”
“They’re all cheats,” I pointed out. “But I know his trick. Come on.”
Reluctantly, Macario put a drachma down. I elbowed him, and he fished two more coins out of his pocket.
The man grinned at us. “Welcome to Avalon, travelers. Where have you traveled from? You wear such strange garments.”
“Here and there,” I said.
He tilted his head. “Let’s play then. Rasputin plays a fair game.” He put the ball under the first cup and began sliding the cups side to side. I didn’t even bother to watch, whistling as he moved them around the table. He frowned, moving them faster as I whistled, rocking on my feet.
Finally he stopped. “I take it the lady is throwing her money away?”
“No. I know which one it is.” I turned a cup over before this Rasputin could stop me. A metal ball rolled out.
The small knot of people watching gasped.
His eyes narrowed to slits of rage. “What a fortunate guess. How did you know which cup?”
I tapped my head. “Lucky guess. Now pay up.” I held my hand out.
“Double or nothing?” Rasputin grinned, showing off silver-capped teeth.
“Sure, why not.”
“Katzy, we should quit now,” Angie whispered. “These guys are con artists.”
“I got this,” I whispered back.
He covered the ball and began moving the cups. His hands were a blur. Again, I didn’t bother to watch.
“The odds of selecting the right cup are against you, Phoebe,” Damian said in my ear.
“Have a little faith.” I was a street kid. Con artists I could handle.
A crowd gathered as word of my win spread.
Rasputin kept up the show for a long minute, stopping with a flourish of his hands.
“Point out the cup, child, and I’ll turn it over,” he said with a greasy smile.
“Oh, any one will do,” I said.
His eyes glittered. “You have to choose one.”
“Fine. I’ll take the one on the left.”
He reached for it with his ringed hand, but I reached it first. “How about I turn the cup over?”
His eyes grew mean as I turned the cup. The ball rolled out.
The crowd cheered.
I bowed to my fans, grinning. His hand shot to my wrist, gripping it painfully and pulling me in close enough to smell his garlicky breath. “You’ll pay for this,” he hissed.
“Be glad I don’t blow your scam,” I hissed back. “Or do you want everyone in the crowd to know that ring of yours is a magnet?”
He released my wrist. I scooped up the pile of coins, and we headed for the nearest food stand. Behind me, a crowd pressed in, eager to try their luck.
As we ordered some kabobs of roasted lamb, I noticed a hooded figure watching us. Whoever it was wore a heavy woolen cloak pulled low. When I stared at the figure, it slipped away into the crowds.
“How did you know which cup?” Macario asked, gnawing on his kabob.
“It’s an old scam. He has a ball under every cup. When he turns it over, his magnet ring attracts the ball, and you can’t see it because it’s stuck to the side of the cup.”
We spent more coins on food and a bushel of carrots for Pepper. It had been a pretty perfect day. Our bellies were full, and not one person had tried to kill me.
A burly hand landed in front of me, then grabbed Macario by his nape and lifted him. The arm belonged to one of those half man, half horse dudes. Centaurs Damian had called them. He studied the boy. “Demigod or human?”
Macario squirmed in his grasp. “Demigod, you fool. Unhand me before my father, Apollo, incinerates you.”
The centaur dropped him like he was contaminated. He trotted forward and scooped up Damian.
“Demigod or human?”
Damian hesitated.
That was a mistake.
“Welcome to the king’s army.” The centaur began dragging him away by his collar.
“Hey, let him go,” I said.
Damian tried to wiggle free, but he was no match for the centaur.
I stepped into the center of the road, hands clenched at my side. “I said let him go.”
Something about my voice must have penetrated his thick brain, because the centaur paused. He turned to look over his shoulder, his eyes tightening at the lightning bolt in my hand.
“Bad idea, Katzy,” Angie said.
“She’s right,” Macario said. “The Erinyes can track you if you use your magic.”
Seriously, what choice did I have? Damian was about to be conscripted into the king’s army!
The centaur dropped Damian. The horse-man cracked his neck as he brandished his sword and turned to face me. “You are the demon who sent hail down on us. General Egan will be most pleased when I bring him your head.”
I liked my head just fine where it was. I dug my front foot in the dirt and cocked my arm back, prepared to hurl lightning at his hairy chest, but before I could launch the crackling bolt, a cloaked figure holding a sword whirled into view. A bow was strapped across their back.
In a spinning move, the figure disarmed the centaur, sending his blade flying. One powerful kick of the stranger’s booted foot sent the four-legged beast soaring through the air and crashing into a trough of water.
The figure whirled on me. “Put the lighting away, you fool.”
That voice. I knew it.
Athena.
My half-sister in the flesh this time.
Crud. I was in so much trouble. The lightning sputtered out in my hand.
She shepherded us away as a crowd gathered. “We must leave Avalon immediately. There is no time to waste. The Erinyes are tracking you.”
A silver-tipped missile hit the dirt next to me, sending us all diving for cover. Athena recovered first, drawing her bow and shooting an arrow back. She aimed wide by inches. A warning shot.
She hurried us into an archway and down a long corridor. Tapers lit our way, casting shadows at our feet. The rustle of wings made us scurry faster. Ahead, a set of stairs descended into inky darkness.
Athena paused, looking over her shoulder before giving us a shove. “Go, children. At the end of the crypt, you’ll find a door. Seal it behind you. Do not return to Avalon.”
“What about our pegasus?” I asked.
&
nbsp; “Do you realize what you’ve done?” Her eyes flashed with anger. “You’ve put our entire world at risk. There are bigger things at play here than the whims of a child.”
Her words stung, raising my temper. “Ares took Carl. I have to get him back.”
“Your intentions are noble, but one human life is not worth all of Olympus.”
“Carl’s life is. While my real family was here, living it up, he was the one who looked after me. What did you ever do, big sis?”
Her eyes softened. “A conversation for another day. Go. We will talk again.”
Damian took my arm, tugging me away.
I hated my family.
“If it’s any consolation, my family fights every holiday,” Angie said as we hurried past tombs. “They love each other, but the way they express it would peel paint off walls.”
“Thanks, Angie,” I said, biting back the tears. “I guess no one’s family is perfect. Too bad mine hates me or wants me dead.”
“At least Athena helped us,” Damian said as we came to a door. He twisted the knob, and the door swung open on squeaky hinges. “She got us safely out of Avalon.”
We stepped into bright sunlight—only to find an army of soldiers waiting. In the midst of them, the tin-cap-teethed swindler Rasputin stood pointing us out to a familiar figure.
General Egan.
Crud.
CHAPTER 18
Being a prisoner of General Egan had its benefits. We were given three meals a day, comfortable beds, and a room with a nice view.
Of course, I’m lying.
They tossed us in some dark dungeon with only rats for company. We slept on a stone floor without even a blanket to keep us warm. The food was terrible—maggoty rice with a side order of stale bread.
“I’m certifiably starving to death,” Angie moaned.
“For once, I agree with this one.” Macario sighed. “The rats are looking at us like we’re their next meal.” He threw a pebble at one that ventured too close.
“Damian, ideas?” I asked for the eleventeenth time.
He lay on his back staring up at the ceiling, fingers laced across his chest. “I told you, Phoebe, I don’t have any ideas,” he said calmly. “We are in an underground cell. We don’t have a key or any willing gods hanging around that want to free us. So please stop asking.”
“What’s his problem?” I grumbled to no one in particular.
“Oh, he’s just worried he’s going to spend the rest of his life down here, or worse, be inducted into the army at age twelve,” Angie carped.
I sighed. “I could call up a lightning bolt.”
“No!” they shouted in unison.
“It will bring the Erinyes back,” Damian said. “Somehow I think that will be worse than General Egan.”
Boots clomped down the stone corridor. Was it already time for our afternoon gruel?
The door was flung open, and the general himself appeared. We sat up, instinctively drawing closer to one another.
He entered and came to a stop in front of me, staring down with a frown. “So you are the one?”
I raised an eyebrow. “The one who beat a cheat at his con game? Yeah, that’s me. Might as well stone me to death.”
He laughed. “They’re still talking about the girl who outsmarted old Rasputin. But no—you are clearly more than that.” He tilted forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. “The lightning bolt might have given you away.” He straightened and began pacing the length of the cell. “Do you know the bounty on your head is quite substantial? Ten thousand drachmas. I could use those funds to help pay for more weapons for my men.”
So that’s how much my life was worth. It smarted, but I didn’t let it show. “So turn me over to my father. I’m sure it will be a happy reunion.”
“Zeus isn’t the one paying it,” he said. “It’s the council of gods. They want to be rid of you. It makes me wonder, how much trouble can one small girl cause, even one who can send hail down onto my head?”
“Beats me. I haven’t done anything wrong yet, but those winged avengers want me dead because of something they think I’m going to do.”
“We take our prophecies seriously,” Egan said. “Rumor has it you will one day destroy Olympus. The city of the gods. I’ve never been, but I hear the streets are paved with gold.”
I hesitated. Was he for that or against it?
“She’s a daughter of Zeus,” Macario said. “She can stop the prophecy from happening, but she has to complete her quest.”
Egan’s eyes grew curious. “Tell me about this quest.”
I looked at Damian. “Show him.”
Damian pulled the red book out of his bag and handed it to Egan. “If she completes the Eye of Zeus, we think she can break the prophecy.”
Egan flipped through the pages, then sighed and thrust the book back at Damian. “It can’t help me win my war against the Trojans. Ten years we’ve been fighting. There are hardly any men left to conscript into the army. I’m down to recruiting children.”
“What if I could help you?” Damian said.
Egan raised one eyebrow. “Help me how?”
“I know how to end the war. To defeat Troy once and for all.”
He scoffed. “How can a boy such as yourself know these things?”
“You believe she is the one who can destroy Olympus, yet you question whether or not her companion can show you how to defeat a mere army of mortals?” Macario said.
Egan laughed. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“No, first we make a deal—I tell you how to win the war, and you let us go,” Damian said boldly.
“And give us horses and supplies,” Macario added.
“And some weapons,” Angie said.
Egan looked us over and shook his head. “May the gods have mercy on me for unleashing you, but yes, you have a deal. Tell me how to end this war.”
Damian leaned in and whispered in his ear. I couldn’t hear much. Something about a horse, a gift, and a total fake out.
Egan’s eyebrows rose. His eyes grew wide, then skeptical, and then understanding dawned.
“And you swear this will work?”
“On my honor,” Damian said, crossing his heart.
Egan sighed, scrubbing his hand across his forehead before nodding. “We’re desperate enough to try anything. I will pass it along to our leader, Odysseus, on my return. Maybe he won’t take my head off for my lack of new recruits. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? You’d make a fine lieutenant.”
Damian flushed proudly. “Thanks, but I have to keep Phoebe from destroying this place.”
Egan laughed heartily. “Be off then before I change my mind.”
He called for the guards to unlock the cell door. We were led up and out into the bright sunlight. I wanted to drop to my knees and kiss the dirt, but I kept it together as we were loaded onto fresh horses and shown out of the garrison. Damian waved goodbye to the general as we trotted down a road.
“I h-hate h-horses,” Angie stuttered out, her pigtails bouncing up and down.
“Which way to the sphinx?” I asked Macario, holding on to the saddle horn with both hands.
“Thebes is a day’s ride. You’ll love it there. Even better than Avalon.”
CHAPTER 19
Another night sleeping on the ground left my body aching as if I’d gone eight rounds with a cement mixer. On the bright side, Macario caught a pair of speckled trout in a nearby stream and roasted them wrapped in leaves over a fire for breakfast.
The horses were fresh and crisply trotted, jarring my teeth into the back of my head. Macario entertained us with stories about his exploits, including a tale of slaying a manticore and saving an entire village from a rampaging sea monster.
Little liar.
I didn’t believe a word that passed his lips. But his nattering on helped pass the time until Thebes rose before us at the other end of a valley, a city of graceful spires and warm sandstone buildings.
“Where do we find this Miss Kitty?” I asked Macario.
“Her lair is down there.” He pointed to the middle of the valley, where a mound of boulders rose up from the trees. “In order to reach the city, travelers must pass by it.”
“Why would anyone be dumb enough to go in there if she’s a flesh-eating monster?” Angie asked.
“She promises a fortune in gold to the one who can answer her riddle,” he explained. “Many are tempted, thinking they are smarter than Miss Kitty or that they can defeat her in combat if they lose.”
“And do they?” I asked.
“No one has ever lived to tell such a tale.”
“Well, since we know the answer, it should be a piece of cake.”
The horses picked their way down the rocky trail. It switched back and forth, leading us to a well-marked road at the bottom of the valley.
Tall pine trees towered overhead, letting in dappled sunlight. The faint humming of bees zooming here and there was relaxing. I was almost enjoying it when a snide voice called out, “Look, it’s the misbegotten son of Apollo and a tree.”
The voice came from a dark-haired youth. He sat on a branch, swinging his legs. He was sharply dressed in a black tunic with a gold sash across his chest.
“Deimos.” Macario slid down from his horse. “What are you doing here?”
Macario’s fists were tightly clenched, but it didn’t stop them from trembling. He was afraid, I realized. And trying not to show it.
“Keeping an eye on my father’s charge, of course.” Deimos dropped from the branch, landing nimbly on his feet. “I can’t allow his plans to unravel because a reject like you led her astray.”
“I don’t know who you are, but we don’t need any help.” I climbed down from my horse and stood by Macario. “So back off.”
Angie and Damian joined on the other side. “You heard her,” Angie said, folding her arms. “Move it along.”
Deimos ignored her and slowly eyed me from head to toe. “So you’re the famed daughter of Zeus. You don’t look like much. I can’t see why Father is so convinced you’re the one.”