by Maz Evans
He paused for dramatic effect.
‘Well? Get on with it,’ snapped Patricia. ‘You’re about as enthralling as an aid appeal.’
‘It’s the boy’s father,’ grinned Boil. ‘He’s back.’
‘So. The jailbird flies home,’ said Patricia thoughtfully. ‘How inconvenient. David Hooper always was a horrible do-gooder. So he’ll be at the house taking care of the brat . . .’
‘Not necessarily,’ wobbled Boil gleefully. ‘The welfare officer is trying to find out if he’s Hooper’s legal guardian – they don’t even know if the Hooper parents are still married. If not, this guardian will get to decide what happens to Hooper.’
‘Will they, now?’
‘They’re hoping you might be able to shed some light.’
‘Oh, I can do more than that.’ Patricia smiled. ‘I can switch on a search beam. Thank you, Mr Boil. You’ve proved most useful.’
Boil clapped his hands gleefully. ‘Marvellous. So what’s next?’
‘I’m sorry?’ said Patricia, imagining how elegant her new lounge would look draped in endangered-animal fur.
‘What’s next?’ Boil repeated. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘We?’ said Patricia absently.
‘Er, yes.’ Boil laughed nervously. ‘You and me. Us.’
‘Oh dear, dumpling,’ pouted Patricia. ‘How awkward. There is no “us”. In fact, I find the thought rather nauseating . . .’
‘B-b-but – we’re in this together!’ Boil spluttered. ‘I’ve risked everything for you! I’ve been complicit in lottery fraud! I’ve shared confidential information about a pupil! I could lose my job . . .’
‘Something you might want to bear in mind if you ever decide to grow a conscience,’ said Patricia, as Dawson stumbled over with her champagne. ‘Breathe a word of this to anyone and I’ll bring your pathetic little world crashing down around your flabby ears. You have served your purpose. I can’t imagine you hear that very often. Goodbye, Mr Boil. Dawson will show you out.’
‘Just you wait,’ glowered Boil, his chins wobbling in outraged unison as Dawson led him towards the door. ‘I’ll get you for this. You’d better sleep with one eye open, Horse’s-Bum!’
‘I sleep with both eyes open, you cretinous moron,’ muttered Patricia. ‘Dawson – pack my bags for a couple of nights away. I’m going on a trip.’
‘VERY GOOD, M’LADY,’ Dawson bellowed. ‘OFF ANYWHERE NICE?’
‘Not really,’ said Patricia. ‘I need to see an old acquaintance.’
‘FRIEND OF YOURS?’
‘Far from it,’ scowled Patricia, picking up the phone. ‘He’s the most despicable human being I’ve ever known.’
‘THEN WHY GO SEE HIM?’ yelled Dawson.
‘Because,’ sighed Patricia, ‘he’s still my husband.’
9. The Odyssey
There was a moment every morning, just before he fully woke, where everything in Elliot’s life was perfect. Before the bad thoughts flooded his mind like vinegar through oil, there was a blissful second where he lived the life of a normal thirteen-year-old boy . . .
The flying horse tapping at his window brought that moment to an abrupt end on Saturday morning.
‘Rise and shine,’ said Pegasus. ‘Time to shake your tail feathers.’
Elliot groaned as the weight of the world returned to his shoulders. His mum was ill. His future was uncertain. And today he was off to find another mythical Chaos Stone that would almost certainly put his life in jeopardy. Again. Great.
But a hopeful thought leapt into his mind as well. Today they were setting off on the journey that might find his mum’s cure. The next time he was in this bed, he could be that normal kid. Hopefully.
Pegasus tapped impatiently again.
‘Hurry up,’ he said. ‘Everyone’s waiting downstairs.’
Elliot pulled on some clothes and shuffled downstairs to where the Gods were assembled around the kitchen table. He smiled as he saw his dad sitting to one side, swathed in a black hoodie, sipping a hot coffee. So that’s where his own dislike of early mornings came from. He waved a greeting to a yawning Virgo, who waved sleepily back.
‘So, we’re all agreed?’ said Zeus, as his daughters and Hephaestus nodded solemnly.
‘Agreed on what?’ asked Elliot, accepting the plate of breakfast that Athene magically summoned from the stove.
‘We’re making a battle plan,’ said Zeus.
‘Literally,’ said Athene, tossing the Daily Argus over to Elliot. ‘In all the drama yesterday, we missed this.’
‘What does it mean?’ Elliot muttered, his brain not nearly awake enough to process the immortal news – in rhyme.
‘Those nappy-heads on the Zodiac Council have really done it this time,’ said Aphrodite. ‘Suspending basic immortal rights and releasing the Titans. They have completely lost it! Did they really not mention any of this yesterday, V?’
Virgo shook her head and stuffed her bacon sandwich in her mouth.
‘You’re being very quiet,’ said Elliot.
‘No, I’m not,’ snapped Virgo. ‘Are you suggesting I’m acting suspiciously? Because that would be ridiculous! I haven’t done anything! What are you accusing me of ?’
‘Nothing,’ said Elliot. ‘It’s brilliant. Carry on.’
‘They’re playing right into Thanatos’s hands,’ scowled Zeus. ‘Division, hatred, lies – he draws his power from these. Evil always does. If we didn’t have to go, I’d be up there right now, giving them a good old-fashioned—’
‘But you do have to go,’ said Athene. ‘The Chaos Stones are still our best defence against Thanatos. Without them, he’s just talk . . .’
‘With them, he’ll be unstoppable. That’s what you need to worry about,’ trilled Hypnos, flying over and helping himself to Zeus’s toast. ‘He won’t stop until the mortals are all but wiped out and we are all his slaves. With the power of the Earth, Air, Water and Fire Stones, he’ll have the whole of nature at his command. If it wasn’t for me handing them to you, he would have beaten you last time . . .’
‘We’re painfully aware of that, thank you,’ said Zeus, snatching his toast back. ‘Heffer – are you all set?’
‘Just say the word, boss,’ said Hephaestus with a small incline of his head. ‘Got the boy all loaded up and ready to go outside.’
‘I still say Hermy should stay here with us,’ pouted Aphrodite. ‘We can take perfectly good care of him.’
‘What?’ said Elliot, suddenly waking up. ‘Where are you taking Hermes?’
‘It’s OK, old boy – just a precaution,’ said Zeus. ‘I need Heffer to . . . catch up with some old friends for me – he can watch over Hermes while he’s doing it. Let’s get you on the road, old chap.’
Still not entirely sure what was going on, Elliot followed the procession of immortals out to the paddock.
‘Let’s make this quick,’ winced Dave, scowling at the ascending sun. Elliot knew that feeling – he’d often hated the sunrise after a bad night with Josie. He watched Zeus stride towards Aphrodite’s car, which had transformed into a pink minibus for their journey.
‘You will look after her, won’t you?’ said Elliot to his father.
‘Course I will,’ said Dave, pulling his hoodie tighter around him.
‘Don’t let the welfare people anywhere near here until I’m back. And be on your guard for Horse’s-Bum, I know she’s still sniffing around somewhere . . .’
‘Relax!’ Dave muttered, putting his hands firmly on Elliot’s shoulders. ‘By the time you get back, I’ll have everything sorted. I swear it.’
A low snort from Pegasus drew Elliot’s attention to the other side of the paddock.
‘Aren’t you ready yet?’ huffed the magnificent winged stallion. ‘I want to get this done in the daylight. I hate flying at night. Straining my eyes is disastrous for my crow’s feet.’
‘Hold yer horses,’ Hephaestus grumbled, as he tinkered with the litter attached to Pegasus’s harness. Elliot pee
red inside. There, deathly still, lay Hermes. He reached through the window and gave the comatose Messenger God a gentle fist-bump.
‘See you soon, mate,’ he said quietly. ‘Not even joking.’
‘All right there, young fella,’ said Hephaestus, placing his grimy hand tenderly on top of Hermes’s. I’ve got you all tucked up, snug as a bug in a rug, never you mind.’
The blacksmith winked at Elliot and shuffled away.
‘Where are you taking him?’ Elliot asked.
Hephaestus paused and looked nervously at Zeus.
‘I’ll keep that on the q.t. for now – the walls have ears,’ said Zeus, glowering at Hypnos. ‘But he’ll be safe, don’t you worry.’
‘Bye-bye, Hermy,’ said Aphrodite, kissing her brother’s limp hand. ‘See you soon.’
‘We’d better be off too,’ said Zeus. ‘Long journey ahead.’
‘Hello?’ said Josie, coming out into the paddock in her nightgown. ‘Who are all these people? What are you doing on my farm?’
Elliot released a quivering breath. Mum never got up this early. Why did she have to choose now?
‘It’s OK, Mum – I’m just going on a quick trip – nothing to worry about . . .’
‘Don’t go!’ Josie cried, clinging to his arm. ‘We must keep you safe!’
‘I have to do this, Mum,’ Elliot mumbled, struggling to meet his mother’s tear-filled eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I’ll look after you, love,’ said Dave, giving her a friendly squeeze.
‘Get off me!’ shouted Josie, shoving Dave away.
‘Suit yourself,’ said Dave, walking off towards the farmhouse. ‘Good luck, son.’
‘OK . . . bye, Dad,’ Elliot called after his father. He looked at Josie, fighting in Athene’s strong grasp.
‘You’d better just get on your way,’ said the Goddess of Wisdom. ‘Once you’re out of sight, she’ll calm down.’
‘Leave me alone!’ Josie screamed, with Aphrodite trying to soothe her. ‘Elliot – please don’t go!’
Elliot bit back the tears as he watched the two Goddesses try to calm his mother, who lashed at them like a wild animal. He hated leaving her like this. Should he stay?
But he couldn’t. If he found Panacea’s potion, he could cure her and she’d never feel like this again. It was worth it. It really was.
‘Bye, Mum,’ he choked, heading for the minibus.
‘Don’t go!’ Josie shrieked while Athene and Aphrodite held her back gently. ‘Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me with him!’
‘I have to,’ Elliot cried through the lump in his throat. ‘I’ll be back soon. I promise.’
He scrambled into the minibus and shut the door. Virgo looked at him strangely. After a few seconds, she took her second bacon sandwich from her mouth and silently offered him the rest of it. He shook his head with a weak smile.
‘Are you ready?’ said Zeus softly.
‘I guess,’ replied Elliot, pulling his hood over his face as the car drove him away from Home Farm and the haunting sound of his mother’s screams.
After a fitful sleep in the back of the minibus, Elliot awoke to find it had stopped outside a large, rundown office block.
‘Where are we?’ he mumbled sleepily.
‘Here to see our old pal Odysseus,’ said Zeus brightly. ‘He’s taken the immortal travel world by storm with Don’tcAIR, his “no frills, more thrills” approach to travel – and bally good luck to him. He’s become quite the business leader.’
‘I heard he’s going to star in the new series of Dragons’ Dungeon,’ said Hypnos, fluttering out of the minibus. ‘It’s been so much more exciting since they started actually flame-roasting the rubbish entrepreneurs!’
Elliot looked out of the window.
‘We’re on an industrial estate in Slough,’ he said, spotting a sign.
‘This is the address on the website,’ said Virgo. ‘Funny site – it charged me twenty-seven obals just for looking at it.’
‘This can’t be right,’ scowled Zeus, pulling the remains of a plastic bag off his shoe.
‘What a dump,’ snorted Hypnos. ‘Are you sure this is—’
‘GREETINGS, MY GOOD FRIENDS!’ bellowed an almighty Greek voice behind them. ‘Welcome to Don’tcAIR: you cut prices, we cut corners!’
Odysseus was what Elliot’s nan would have politely called ‘big-boned’. He had a face and belly bigger than his legendary adventures. With a huge smile, he opened his arms, offering a hug as warm and fragrant as a falafel.
‘Hello, Odysseus,’ smiled Zeus, crushing the hero’s hand with his handshake. ‘Elliot, this is Odysseus, travel agent extraordinaire!’
‘You’re crazy!’ guffawed the hero. ‘But it’s going great. I have a fleet of over two thousand and sixty-two aeroplanes, most of which work nearly all the time. I’ve just won a contract from Helios, the Sun God, to replace the chariot he uses to pull the sun with my budget planes. OK, so sometimes the sun will be three days late and sometimes it won’t arrive at all, but it’s saved him a fortune!’
Elliot looked up at the ramshackle offices. This place was a dump.
‘Odysseus, old boy. We really need your help,’ said Zeus.
‘But of course!’ yelled Odysseus. ‘I can get you wherever you want to go. We fly somewhere close to a hundred and fifty-seven nearly top destinations.’
‘Can we come inside?’ asked Virgo, turning her nose up as an empty tin of beans rolled past, complete with a dead rat inside.
‘Ay – where are my manners!’ laughed Odysseus. ‘Here – let me help you with your bags.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ said Virgo, handing over her suitcase.
Odysseus lifted the bag up and down several times to gauge its weight.
‘That’ll be five obals to bring the bag into my office,’ he said. ‘I’ll let you bring your handbag as hand luggage.’
‘Thanks,’ said Virgo warily. She reluctantly handed over her money and they made their way through the deserted building to Odysseus’s office. Elliot had seen better-furnished cardboard boxes – everywhere was barren and coin-operated. Even the water cooler charged twenty-three obals for people to stand there and chat.
‘Here, here – come in.’ Odysseus gestured to his office, a tiny space with a low ceiling, with rows of three chairs on either side of a tiny aisle. In order to reach the desk at the front, everyone had to turn sideways, leading to much treading on toes and bashing of elbows.
‘Ow!’ said Virgo, as Elliot attempted to put his bag in one of the overhead lockers, releasing an avalanche of sick bags.
‘So what can I do for you?’ Odysseus asked, taking his place behind his desk. ‘Can I get you a coffee? Something to eat maybe?’
‘Yes, please – I’d love some tea and biscuits,’ said Virgo as she slumped into a chair at the front.
‘Of course,’ said Odysseus. ‘That’ll be six obals. And that seat is extra legroom. There’s a surcharge of fifteen obals.’
‘Where is everyone?’ asked Elliot, thinking of the unoccupied offices they had passed.
‘Cost-saving measures,’ said Odysseus. ‘If I’m gonna offer flights to the Arctic tundra for seven obals, I need to make some efficiencies. That’s my job as Chief Executive Officer. And Accounts Manager. And Head of Human Resources. And Senior Toilet Cleaner . . .’
‘Listen,’ said Elliot. ‘We need to get to the Island of the Cyclopes.’
‘Island of the Cyclopes, eh?’ said Odysseus. ‘A great choice for the adventurous traveller. Beautiful sea views, idyllic country setting, away from the hustle and bustle . . .’
‘Not according to this review on Odyssey-Advisor,’ said Hypnos, craning his neck to read from Odysseus’s computer screen. ‘Went to the Island of the Cyclopes on a coach trip. Enjoyed the local cuisine. But then so did the Cyclopes, who ate our tour guide and everyone sitting in rows 1–15. Oh, dear. Says she wouldn’t recommend it for a business trip either.’
‘There’s always one fusspot,’ sighed
Odysseus. ‘Those review sites will be the death of me . . .’
‘And half of your customers,’ said Elliot. ‘So the Cyclopes eat people?’
‘Listen, no holiday is perfect,’ said Odysseus, angling his computer screen away from Hypnos. ‘People are always complaining about things beyond my control. “Ewwww, the weather wasn’t as good as you said . . . Ewwww, the food wasn’t as good as you said . . . Ewwww, the flesh-eating Cyclopes ate more people than you said . . . There is no pleasing some people!’
‘Ooooh – what’s this?’ said Hypnos, picking up a brochure with a picture of a ship from Odysseus’s desk.
‘Ah, yes – my new budget cruise line, FLOATERZ. Forty-seven countries in three days. Two if you help with the rowing . . .’
‘Sounds wonderful,’ said Hypnos, nodding significantly at Elliot.
‘Great idea,’ said Elliot quickly. ‘Let’s sail to the Island of the Cyclopes.’
‘NOOOOOOOO!’ Zeus roared, inciting another downpour of sick bags from the overhead lockers. ‘NO SAILING!’
Hypnos shrugged at Elliot. Elliot shrugged back. How were they ever going to get Zeus into the sea when he wouldn’t even go on a boat?
‘Er, OK then,’ said Odysseus. ‘You’ll have to fly – and you’re in luck, we just made that route even faster. You’ll only have to change five times . . . That’ll be 2,786 obals for your whole party. And I’ll even throw in express check-in.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Virgo.
‘We throw your bags out of the terminal window to the plane,’ said Odysseus. ‘Saves time and money.’
‘C’mon, old boy, can’t you do us some mates’ rates?’ said Zeus. ‘This is a matter of world security – we’re getting the Water Stone to defeat Thanatos.’
‘Thanatos?’ said Odysseus. ‘That wooden-horse dropping has raised his head again?’
Zeus nodded grimly.
‘It’s going to be a teensy bit tricky to sell holidays when he’s destroyed the Earth with earthquakes and tsunamis,’ chirped Hypnos.
‘You’d be surprised,’ Odysseus mused. ‘I once sold a detox holiday to Pompeii – two weeks after Vesuvius had erupted . . . But I want to help. I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do for you. Not only am I going to give you the flights – excluding airport taxes and fuel duty – I’m going to upgrade you to Nearly Economy and offer you half-price life jackets! Whaddya say?’
