THIRTY-EIGHT
A Council member in a light grey robe stood up. He looked young, not much older than me, but his voice circulated the room effortlessly.
“Lady Helen,” he began. “Can you tell us, the Council, why the gods should be free to live in the mortal realm?”
I cleared my throat. “I know how it looks. The evidence makes it look like the gods are spoilt, selfish and arrogant,” I said. Gasps and mutters came from the audience. I definitely had their attention.
“But after living with them for just a few months, I truly believe they make the world a better place. A world without love, beauty, music or sunshine is not one worth living in. Yes, they came a bit close to getting too much attention. But they are gods, after all. Isn’t that what they’re used to?”
Just like the Council member who spoke before me, my voice filled the courtroom. I instantly felt less nervous.
“Take Aphrodite,” I continued. “I mean, Lady Aphrodite. The point of her very existence is to make things more beautiful. She didn’t use magic to invent her wonder cream. She used centuries of knowledge. I saw it for myself. Aphrodite earned her fame and fans. Not through powers or potions or spells, but from her own wisdom.”
I thought about the care Aphrodite had put into her career recently. How excited she got over gross ingredients and different chemical formulae. “Don’t get me wrong. She loved the attention that came with fame and adoration. Who wouldn’t? But that wasn’t her goal. She just wanted to sprinkle the world around her with beauty. And why should the world be denied that?
“It’s the same with Lord Apollo. His music is pure joy. He’s dedicated centuries to his craft, and it shows. His music is the closest thing to sunshine I can think of. Whether he’s tutoring kids or playing in a nightclub, Apollo is in his element. His charisma and talent were what got him on TV. He didn’t need to enchant anyone into thinking he’s an incredible musician. He rocks.”
I wished that I could turn around and see the looks on my family’s faces. I don’t think I’d ever told them how awesome they were before.
My hands had stopped trembling and the air in the room didn’t feel so oppressive. I had the full attention of the courtroom.
It didn’t feel terrifying. It felt seriously good.
“As for Lord Eros, I know first-hand how important his presence is in my life. I’m a teenager. We think about love, like, a lot.” A few people chuckled in the audience, giving me a last-minute confidence boost. “Eros has been there for me when I needed it the most. As someone without a mum, this means the world to me. He’s much more than just a matchmaker. I feel like he expresses love in all forms.”
“Lord Zeus, my dad, has lived on earth for years as a professor. He doesn’t let his status as head of the gods interfere with his disguise. He’s rational, humble and if I’m being honest, a bit dull.” A few brave people chuckled in the audience. Even the judge looked like she was suppressing a smile.
“What I mean is, you’d never in a million years think that this man was a god. He’s perfected his mortal disguise and has close contact with students on a daily basis. They never suspect a thing. They have no idea how lucky they are.”
My eyes flickered up to steal a glance at the Council members. It was so hard to tell if I was getting anywhere with them. Their poker faces didn’t betray any emotion.
“It’s clear, to me at least, that the mortal world would be worse off without the gods. I know that it would destroy mine.” My voice cracked with emotion. I’d made it this far without crying. I couldn’t break down now.
I took a deep breath and continued. “My life would be deprived of love if my family were banished to Mount Olympus. Or, worse yet, stripped of their powers. I’d lose the love of siblings, cousins and a parent. My only living parent, for that matter. To be robbed of that, the closest link to my immortal heritage, seems so unfair.”
Tears filled my eyes. I hated the thought of crying in public. But maybe it would work in my favour? The audience were here for a show, after all. I let tears trickle down my face.
“The last few months have been such a challenge. My mum passed away when I was ten. She was my world. I’ve been trying to find a new family ever since. I hope the Council will see how important the gods are to me. They are my family now. Please, don’t take them away from me.”
Murmurs filled the room, followed by sombre applause. I even saw a few people in the audience wipe their eyes. If I’d won them over, was there a chance I’d convinced the Council?
I turned and began walking towards my seat in the gods’ box.
“Just one second, Lady Helen.” The familiar oily voice stopped me in my tracks. I turned around to see a Council member in a grey robe standing up.
It was Cranus.
“Touching as that was, I’m afraid I have a few … niggling doubts. Doubts that your testimony failed to lay to rest.”
I wanted to wipe the smug smirk off of his face.
“May I have the floor, Judge Themis?” Cranus asked.
The judge nodded and he descended from the Council benches. We were now face-to-face.
“Lady Helen. You insist that the gods improve the world. That they make it a brighter place for mortals. Is that correct?” he said.
I nodded.
“Speak up, Lady Helen,” said the judge.
“I mean, yes. That’s what I think, anyway,” I added.
“And apart from Lord Eros’s love spell, the gods have never used their powers to interfere with mortals? To your knowledge?”
“Not to my knowledge, no,” I stammered. I longed to be off the stage and away from this horrible man.
Cranus’s smirk stretched into a cruel smile. He relished every minute of my discomfort.
“Well, I beg to differ. We have it on good authority that the gods did use their powers in the presence of mortals,” he said. “Perhaps this will jog your memory.”
The giant hologram flickered into life again, and a moving clip came into focus. I could hear music and chatter, and see people crowded into a small room.
My living room. It was the New Year’s Eve party. The party I’d managed to hide from Dad.
Until now.
My stomach lurched but I managed to keep my face smooth and expressionless. I couldn’t let Cranus have the satisfaction of seeing me scared. Not again.
The video clip showed Apollo turning off the music pumping from the stereo, picking up his guitar and diving straight into a song. The effect on the crowd was instant. They went from yelling at Apollo to swaying gently or sitting cross-legged on the carpet.
How on earth did the Council get hold of that? They must have had spies parked outside the house at all times. Wasn’t this against our human rights or something?
“Where did you get that?” I demanded. The rest of the courtroom seemed to disappear. It was just me and Cranus.
“Unimportant,” he said. “This is clear evidence that Lord Apollo enchanted a room full of mortals. No musician, no matter how skilled, could have that effect on so many people. They’re like putty in his hands.”
“But that’s not the whole story! A fight was about to start, and Apollo calmed them all down. He stopped them getting hurt!”
Cranus’s eyes flashed bright. “So you admit it?” he shouted. “You admit that Lord Apollo did enchant an entire room full of mortals?”
My heart pounded. My mouth was dry. Cranus knew he had me in a corner.
“H-h-he did. But if it wasn’t for Lord Apollo, someone would have been seriously hurt.”
“I will concede that Lord Apollo acted with noble intentions. This time. But we all know our history. We know that the gods haven’t always been quite so high-minded.”
I couldn’t argue with that point. If the myths were anything to go by, they had acted terribly in the past.
“It was my fault, anyway!” I blurted out. “It was my party. Lord Apollo didn’t even know about it.”
Cranus raised both eyeb
rows. “It was your party, eh? And can you tell me where this party was?”
“My house,” I said, wary of his questions.
“Is this the same house you share with Lord Zeus, Lady Aphrodite and Lord Eros?”
“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth.
“You had several dozen mortals gallivanting around a house of the gods?” Cranus shook his head. “I don’t like the sound of this. It’s reckless behaviour, through and through.”
“But Dad, I mean Lord Zeus, didn’t know! It was my party, and I made the other gods promise to keep it secret,” I yelled. “It was my fault, not theirs.” My eyes filled with tears. I hated that I was practically pleading. But I couldn’t let Cranus win this and destroy my family.
“I know just how much your family means to you, Lady Helen,” Cranus said in his smooth, oily voice. “However, the evidence speaks for itself.” He paced around me like a tiger circling its prey. “It is pure selfishness that compelled you to testify here today. That much is clear.”
His brown eyes bored a hole in mine. “I have nothing else to add, Judge Themis,” Cranus said.
“Thank you, Cranus,” said Judge Themis. “Between Lady Helen’s testimony and this startling new evidence, the Council have much to think about. Lady Helen’s trial will continue tomorrow.”
I could have collapsed with relief. After Cranus’s gruelling questions, I was in no state to defend myself.
THIRTY-NINE
I stepped down from the podium and sat back on the front bench. Athena put her arms around me but said nothing. She didn’t have to.
“Cranus always was a miserable turd,” Hades said loudly enough for half the courtroom to hear. Athena glared at him.
“You did well, Helen. Honestly,” she said. I shrugged. I wasn’t convinced.
“Now, I’m afraid we have a gathering of Mount Olympian officials to look forward to,” Athena continued. “Let us make our way to the dining hall.”
“Will Dad be there?” I asked. The gods were still on the stage, bound by the canopy of green vines.
“But of course! We’re dining in his honour,” Athena said. “Now, upstairs.”
We left the courthouse and trudged our way up a dark spiral staircase. Eating was the last thing on my mind (I must have been really upset) but I did want to sit down with my family. I wanted to hear about the trial from their perspective and tell them all about my run-in with Cranus.
We reached a windowless candlelit room, all wood panels and tapestries. A long table ran through the middle, with enough place settings for fifty people. Dozens of men and women, dressed in togas like us, stood beside the table. Everyone looked up as we entered. They were waiting for us.
Athena raised her hand to silence the room. “Greetings, fellow Mount Olympians. It’s good to see you, albeit not under the greatest of circumstances. My father and family will join us shortly. Please, do be seated.”
The Mount Olympians checked the place settings to find their names on the table. The older men and women seated nearer the front were closer to the gods, and didn’t half look smug about it. I squinted in the candlelight to find my place name, but it became clear I wasn’t going to be sat with my family. Was this an admin error? Or just another “formality” the Council insisted on?
I finally found my place name – and it was nowhere near my family. I was surrounded by a few other people my age. Sons and daughters of the Mount Olympus officials, I assumed.
I smiled at the girl and boy sitting opposite me. They had to be related. They shared the same long faces, and silvery-blond hair fell in wisps around their shoulders. They responded to my smile with a curt nod. They didn’t look too thrilled to be sitting close to me.
I turned my attention to the table. No plates or cutlery, just bronze goblets and jugs. Weren’t we meant to be eating? Then the people around me began helping themselves to whatever was in the bronze jugs. The liquid pouring into the goblets glinted gold in the candlelight. It looked like … honey?
The ghost twins filled their goblets and sipped, like drinking syrup was a perfectly normal thing to do.
“Um, why are we drinking honey?” I asked.
The boy smirked at me. “You mean you’ve never had ambrosia before?”
Ambrosia! I’d heard about this before, mostly from Aphrodite raving about how much she missed it at home. It was a food unique to Mount Olympus. Only those with immortal blood could eat it.
I ignored his unkind smile and poured a small portion of the thick ambrosia into my goblet. I took a sip and I suddenly realized why this stuff was such a big deal.
Oh my gosh. It didn’t taste like honey at all! The first sip tasted like hot chocolate with whipped cream. Then the second sip tasted like hot chips with salt and vinegar. The third and final sip was the most delicious of all: it tasted exactly like mum’s chicken stew with rice. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I drained the goblet and poured myself an even bigger glass.
“It tastes like all of my favourite meals in one!” I said.
“Ambrosia is a divine food of the immortals,” the girl said. “It couldn’t possibly compare to any dreadful mortal food.”
The ghost twins radiated nasty vibes. It was obvious that they had nothing nice to say to me. They chatted in a language I didn’t know, never looking in my direction. It wasn’t until their mother fixed them with a few short, sharp words that they looked at me. Why was she so keen for us to talk?
The girl gave me a bland, watery smile that couldn’t be faker if she tried.
“My name is Phaedra, and this is my brother Flavian,” she said with the same fake grin fixed on her face. It didn’t reach her eyes.
I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt. It couldn’t hurt to make new friends from Mount Olympus.
It could end up being my home.
“I’m Helen. Nice to meet you both,” I said, returning the smile with all the social energy I could muster.
Flavian snickered. “Oh, we know who you are.” He leaned in across the table. “Mother hasn’t stopped talking about you for some reason.” His gaze flickered across my face in a way that made me feel instantly judged.
“Quiet, Flavian,” Phaedra said, but she smirked all the same.
She punched him playfully in the ribs. I noticed the band, silver and delicate, wrapped around her upper arm. It was shaped like a snake, with diamonds for eyes.
“Ooh, sick armband,” I said. And I meant it. It was beautiful in a dark, twisted way.
“Sick?” Phaedra said, looking as though I’d spat in her ambrosia. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘exquisite’. This is the most valuable thing I own. It’s the exact replica of an armband that Hephaestus gave to Aphrodite. It is of great significance to our culture.”
“Oh, you don’t get it. Where I’m from ‘sick’ means good. It’s, like, slang,” I said.
“Where we come from, slang indicates a lack of refinement,” Flavian said, looking like he’d sucked on a lemon.
Phaedra continued to look as though my “insult” caused her physical pain. “I would never have believed that she was a daughter of Zeus unless I saw it with my own eyes.” She spoke to her brother but glared at me.
Phaedra muttered something I couldn’t understand, and her brother sniggered. They both looked at me. Just so that I knew for sure that was why they were laughing.
I drained my goblet of the last sip of ambrosia, but the bitterness I felt didn’t budge. So far, Mount Olympians were rude and dismissive. I couldn’t wait to get away from them.
The gods were all present and seated, but they were deep in conversation with the people surrounding them. Why hadn’t Dad or Eros checked in on me yet? And why were they having fun? I wanted them to be miserable like me. Maybe it was the ambrosia or spending time with immortals for a change, but they didn’t look at all unhappy to be there.
That morning, I’d felt a small comfort knowing we were all in this trial together. But there I was,
sitting at the other end of the table near people who thought I was beneath them. I was an outsider again. A feeling I knew all too well, whether it was in London or amongst Mount Olympians.
We couldn’t be found guilty at the trial. My testimony had to persuade the Council. Or else I’d have a lifetime with nothing but awful creatures like Phaedra and Flavian for company.
FORTY
The feast felt like it went on for hours. Long after the novelty of the ambrosia had worn off, I was still sat there. The ghost twins blanked me for the rest of the gathering (I guess even tormenting me got boring after a while). Athena introduced me to a few dry-looking officials with greying beards and cold eyes. Another formality. Mount Olympians seemed to be dead keen on those.
Just as the feast was winding down, the door opened. In walked a young woman in a toga flanked by two guards. Thanks to my encounter with Leon, just the sight of the guards set my pulse pounding.
The young woman cleared her throat, commanding the attention of the room.
“Lords and ladies of Mount Olympus. I come bearing a message from Councilman Cranus and Judge Themis. It’s come to our attention that Lady Helen is residing in the Gods’ Quarters,” she said. “As a key witness, this is in clear contravention of the Dikastian Code.”
Athena jumped to her feet. “Are you suggesting that I, Athena, goddess of justice, would break Mount Olympian law?” Her voice boomed around the room. Even the messenger looked shaken for a split second.
What was going on? And what was this code all about? I didn’t want to ask what it was and betray my ignorance.
“The gods must not be seen to favour anyone on trial. Especially if they are kin. Judge Themis has ruled that it would be inappropriate for Lady Helen to share quarters with the gods during this trial.”
They were tearing me away from my family before the trial was even over.
“We have prepared lodgings in the basement, several floors away from the Gods’ Quarters,” the messenger continued.
“Unacceptable!” Athena said in a clipped tone, the scariest I had ever heard her. “A daughter of Zeus cannot sleep in the basement.”
Oh My Gods Page 19
