She wondered what Ms. Nemesis would advise. Surely not the kind of violence Heracles was suggesting. Her Revenge-ology textscroll might offer some guidance. Maybe she’d browse through it later.
“You know I’m right, right?” asked Heracles, breaking into her thoughts.
Athena frowned. His cocky certainty irritated her almost as much as his eagerness to resort to violence. “I hardly think that knocking someone’s head off is an appropriate response to rudeness,” she said. “And I expect Ms. Nemesis would agree. Revenge needs to balance the offense to be fair.”
“But she’s mortal,” Heracles insisted. “Showing disrespect to a god or goddess is a smiting offense. Ask anybody.”
True, thought Athena. But Heracles was mortal too. So shouldn’t he feel more compassion for the girl? Why did he view everything with such certainty?
“I prefer to keep a cool head and not rush to judgment,” she said tartly.
Heracles snorted. “The trouble with you is you’re too soft-hearted.”
“Now who’s disrespecting a goddess?” said Athena. “You’re as mortal as Arachne, you know.”
Heracles stumbled backward, as if she’d dealt him a blow. She wouldn’t be surprised if, because of his superhuman strength, he sometimes forgot his own mortality. “You can smite me if I’ve offended you,” he offered after a moment’s pause. “I’m sure I deserve it.”
“Oh, don’t be so boneheaded,” she said tiredly. “I’m not going to smite you or anyone else. Not today, anyway.” All she really wanted right now was to be back at MOA so she could take a hot shower and stop smelling of poop.
They walked on in silence for a while. But as they drew near the Academy, Heracles said, “You’re right. I am boneheaded. I don’t mean to be, but I am.”
“S’okay,” said Athena, softening. “You’re not boneheaded all the time.”
Heracles grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” After a minute he added, “So, I was wondering. Today was fun. How about if you come with me again tomorrow?”
Athena hesitated. She really needed to study tomorrow. Besides, she also had the contest with Arachne to plan for. “What’s the next labor on your list?”
Heracles shrugged. “No big deal. I just need to scare off a few birds.”
That didn’t sound so difficult. Had Eurystheus decided to give Heracles a little break? “Can I decide in the morning?” she asked.
“Sure.” He looked a little disappointed that she didn’t jump at the chance, but all he said was, “I’m going to leave early. So if you decide to come, meet me in the courtyard at dawn.”
“All right, early bird,” she joked, and he laughed.
Then she headed for the dorm—and a shower.
Battling the Birds
WHEN ATHENA AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING, the sun was already up. Well, she’d obviously missed meeting Heracles. It had to be at least nine o’clock. Good thing it was Sunday, or she’d be late for school as well! She glanced over at the empty bed across from hers. Pandora was probably at breakfast already. Athena hardly ever slept this late. Yesterday’s adventure with Heracles had really pooped her out, in more ways than one!
As she tugged a clean tangerine chiton over her head, she hoped she hadn’t been too cranky with him on the return trip to MOA yesterday. But honestly! Did he really think she’d say yes to his offer to “knock some sense” into Arachne? The girl was mortal, not some beast like that Hydra they’d trapped! She hoped Heracles would do okay without her this morning, but she wasn’t all that worried for him. How hard could scaring off a few birds be?
Sitting down at her desk, she reached for her Hero-ology textscroll to begin her homework. Her hero, Odysseus, was on his way home from the Trojan War, and things were getting interesting. Suddenly her window began to rattle noisily. It blew open, and a glittery breeze whooshed in, carrying a rolled-up piece of papyrus. “Art thou Theeny?” howled the breeze. “Most favorite daughter in all the world of Principal Zeus?”
Athena sighed. “Drop it here,” she said, holding her hands out to receive the papyrus message. There was certainly no mystery surrounding the sender! There was only one person who called her Theeny. Having made the delivery, the breeze whooshed back out the window.
Athena unrolled the piece of papyrus and began to read.
Dearest Theeny,
I trust all is going well with your “project” (wink, wink). Please come to my office asap to update me on your progress. As you know, I am counting on you—in a dozen (get it? wink, wink) ways—to succeed.
Yours in Thunder,
Zeus
(Your dear ol’ dad)
Beneath his signature, instead of the muscled arm he usually drew (which always looked more like a caterpillar than an arm since he was such a poor artist), he’d actually scratched a row of Xs and Os. Talk about pouring it on thick! And she certainly couldn’t accuse him of subtlety. A dozen ways? Could there be a more obvious reference to Heracles’ twelve labors? Had her dad forgotten he’d never told her about them? Parents were so hard to figure out sometimes.
Sighing, Athena set the message on top of her desk and rummaged in a drawer for a Breakfast of the Gods power bar. She was starving. She hadn’t eaten a thing since the fruit she and Heracles had gorged on yesterday afternoon, just before cleaning King Augeas’s disgusting stables.
After peeling off the wrapper she gulped the bar down in three quick bites. Then she glanced at the half-dozen textscrolls on top of her desk. She hadn’t touched any of them in the two days since Heracles’ arrival, and it seemed to her that they scowled at her reproachfully. She had assignments for two classes and an exam to study for before tomorrow. Surely, Zeus wouldn’t expect her to abandon her studies to help Heracles. Perhaps he was just clueless about how much study time it took to keep up a straight-A average. Instead of going to see him right away—as soon as possible didn’t necessarily mean now, did it?—she picked up her textscrolls and headed for the library.
After she finished her Hero-ology assignment, she picked up her Revenge-ology textscroll. She unfurled it and started to read Chapter 3: The Nature of Justice. Then, remembering her encounter with Arachne, she consulted the Table of Contents and skipped ahead to Chapter 6: Dealing with Disrespect. She scanned the chapter until a particular sentence snagged her attention: “When a mortal insults a god or goddess, retribution is required.”
Athena frowned, furrowing her brow. Retribution was required. But had Arachne insulted her? She wasn’t really sure. Certainly the girl had been rude and cross and haughty. Skimming to the end of the chapter, she found a table titled “Responding to Mortal Insults: Acceptable Retributions.” What followed was a list of things mortals could be turned into. It included such things as toadstools, small animals, bugs, trees, flowers, and astrological signs. Athena studied the list thoughtfully.
At lunchtime she gathered up her textscrolls and walked down the hall to the cafeteria. Aphrodite, Artemis, and Persephone were already there eating. Usually Persephone wasn’t around on the weekends since she lived at home with her mom, instead of in the dorm with the rest of the goddessgirls. But she sometimes hung out at MOA when her mom was busy at her flower shop in the Immortal Marketplace.
Athena smiled her thanks and took the bowl of nectaroni and cheese the eight-armed lunch lady handed her, then went to join her friends. She would’ve had to be wearing a blindfold to miss the curious glances they gave her when she sat down. Even Artemis’s dogs stared up at her, but they were probably just hoping for some of her nectaroni and cheese. With her fork halfway to her mouth, Athena stared back at the other three goddessgirls. “What?”
“We know all about the labors,” Aphrodite said. “But you’ve never told us why you’re helping Heracles with them.” Athena put down her fork and opened her mouth to reply. But Artemis spoke up first.
“He probably asked her to,” she said. “And she was too nice to say no!” Her dogs looked at her nervously. “No” was a word they didn’t m
uch care for. “He’s taking advantage of her because he knows how smart she is and needs her help.”
“Nonsense,” said Persephone. She looked at Athena. “Hades thinks Heracles must like you. Otherwise he would’ve asked some of the godboys for help instead.” She paused. “And I think you’re helping because you like him, right?”
Again, Athena tried to speak, but she was interrupted. “Of course Heracles likes her,” said Aphrodite. “She’s perfect for him, and—”
Athena held her hands up in front of her. “Stop!” Eyeing each goddessgirl in turn, she said, “Yes, I like him. And I think he likes me. But that doesn’t mean we’re getting married, for godness sake. Give it a rest!” After this declaration, she glanced uneasily around the room to make sure the nosy Pheme wasn’t near. Fortunately she was several tables away, sitting with Pandora and Medusa.
Artemis nodded. “Believe me, I understand completely. Consider the subject rested.”
“Good.” Athena calmed herself and got back to her nectaroni. After all, her friends’ curiosity was understandable. They didn’t know Zeus had asked her to offer Heracles some guidance. Of course, it wasn’t really true that Zeus had asked her to help Heracles with his labors. Still, his letter this morning had certainly hinted at that. But the main reason Zeus had asked her to guide Heracles was because he was worried the boy would lose his temper and get into trouble. And she’d never tell anyone that. It just wouldn’t be fair to Heracles!
“Well, I still think Hades is right. Heracles must really like you,” Persephone insisted. “Or he wouldn’t have asked for your help. After all, any godboy at MOA would’ve jumped at the chance to get in on the excitement.”
Athena wished she could tell her that helping had been more her idea (and Zeus’s), than Heracles’. At the beginning, anyway.
Aphrodite nodded, blotting the pink lip gloss she’d reapplied after finishing her nectar. “Godboys do love to show off in challenges, especially physical ones.”
“But would a guy ask a girl he like-likes to help him clean up mountains of cow poop?” Athena asked. “That’s what Heracles and I did yesterday.”
Her friends wrinkled their noses in disgust. “Euuww,” said Persephone. “Are you serious?”
Athena nodded, though in truth Heracles had been reluctant to ask for her help with that task. She’d volunteered. Despite Aphrodite’s protest that it wasn’t a fit topic to discuss during a meal, Athena told the other goddessgirls all about King Augeas’s filthy stables and how Heracles finally managed to clean them. She also told them about the many-headed Hydra, the boring boar, and Heracles’ cowardly cousin. The only part of her adventures of the last two days that she left out was her stop in Hypaepa to see Arachne. She was a bit embarrassed about that whole thing. What would her friends think of her if they knew she’d agreed to that silly contest? Competing with a mortal? It really was an undignified thing to do.
As the four girls were leaving the cafeteria, Pheme jumped up from her table and dashed toward them. “Athena! Wait up!” she shouted. Catching up to them, she said, “Guess where I just came from?” Her glossy orange lips parted in a big smile.
Artemis rolled her eyes. “That’s easy. The cafeteria.”
“Well, yes,” said Pheme, frowning a little. “But I meant before that.”
“Artemis was joking,” Athena said. Honestly, sometimes Pheme was a bit dense.
“Oh!” Pheme smiled again. Without waiting for any more guesses, she blurted out, “I just got back from Hypaepa!”
Athena groaned inwardly. What rotten luck! “Well, we have to get going—” she began, hoping to hurry her friends away.
“Wait a sec. That’s where that mortal weaver lives, right?” said Aphrodite. “The one who made that fabulous chiton you were wearing at the Super Natural Market on Friday. What was her name? Acne?”
“Arachne,” corrected Pheme.
Aphrodite nodded. “I remember now. Same as the sewing shop in the Immortal Marketplace.”
“Did you order another chiton from her?” Persephone asked. “Is that why you went to Hypaepa?”
“Yes,” said Pheme. “And while I was there, she told me about her contest with Athena next Thursday, and—” Her words puffed above her head, where everyone could see.
“Gotta run,” Athena interrupted quickly. “Love to hear more about your trip later, Pheme.” She pushed open the cafeteria door, then glanced over her shoulder at her startled friends. “Coming, everyone?”
With puzzled looks on their faces, they followed her outside.
“Contest?” Artemis asked. “What’s that all about?”
Aphrodite stood with her well-manicured, pink-polished hands on her hips. “Come on. Give. You’re holding something back from us!”
“I didn’t mean to, it’s just—” Athena stopped, unsure how to explain.
Persephone touched her arm lightly. “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.”
“Nonsense,” said Aphrodite. “Of course she does. We’re her best friends.”
Athena sighed. “If Pheme already knows about the contest, so does half the school. Or they will soon enough, anyway. I guess I’d rather you heard about it from me than from her. C’mon.”
Upstairs in Aphrodite’s room, Athena and Persephone sank onto Aphrodite’s bed, while Aphrodite and Artemis took the opposite bed. A little embarrassed, Athena traced her fingers over the small white hearts stitched into the bed’s plush velvet comforter as she told her friends about her encounter with Arachne.
“The nerve of that girl!” Artemis exclaimed when she finished. “I wish I’d been there. I would’ve nocked an arrow in my bow and . . .” She mimed the action, pretending to draw a silver arrow from the quiver slung across her back. “Zing!” she shouted with glee. “Right in the kisser.”
Ye gods! thought Athena. Artemis sounded just like Heracles! Even supposing that Arachne’s speech and actions be considered an insult, shooting a mortal in the face with an arrow was not on the list of Acceptable Retributions. Her dismay must have shown because Artemis started to laugh. “I’m only kidding!” she said. Then she scowled. “But you really shouldn’t have let her get away with challenging you like that!”
“Don’t I know it,” Athena said, hugging a heart-shaped pillow to her chest.
Aphrodite shot Artemis a warning look. “What’s done is done,” she said. “Besides, Athena will win the contest.”
“That’s right,” Persephone said. “Arachne may weave well, but no one could match Athena’s skill.”
Athena was glad they had such confidence in her. She only wished she felt as sure of her weaving prowess as they did. When she returned to her room a while later, she took out her loom. Though she knitted a lot, she hadn’t done any weaving since she’d started school at MOA. She was so out of practice that her fingers felt clumsy as she stretched parallel threads across her loom, then began to pass her yarn over and under them. Still, she kept at it, staying in her room until dinnertime. As she worked, her mind wandered to Heracles, and she wondered how things were going for him today.
When she got downstairs to the cafeteria, she saw he was back, sitting at a table with Apollo, Hades, Poseidon, Ares, and several other godboys. The cafeteria was once again buzzing with the news of his latest “adventure.” From what Athena could piece together while standing in line for a salad topped with some of the delicious olives she had invented, the “few birds” Heracles had referred to yesterday were no twittering songbirds. They were vicious death-dealing birds of prey with armor-piercing beaks and wings that shot arrows!
“Come on, Heracles,” Apollo was urging as she neared the boys’ table with her tray. “Tell us how you defeated them again.”
As Heracles began retelling his tale through a mouthful of yambrosia stew, the godboys hung on his every word. Athena could feel his eyes on her as she walked past, but she pretended not to see him. To tell the truth, she was glad to see he hadn’t been pecked to death. But she found it
a bit annoying that he got to play the hero while she was dealing with a challenge from an upstart mortal girl—who just might beat her!
“You think you’ve got problems!” Aphrodite said in a huff when Athena sat next to her. “I’m never going to speak to Ares again!”
“What happened?” Athena asked, spearing an olive. Yum. Heracles’ cousin was crazy. Olives were delicious!
Persephone swallowed a sip from a carton of nectar. “She and Ares got into another argument.”
Aphrodite’s on-again, off-again crush was a never-ending topic at lunch, and Athena listened sympathetically to Aphrodite’s love woes as she munched on her salad. Although she had no advice to offer, Persephone and Artemis had plenty, most of it conflicting.
“Ares was probably just in a bad mood,” Persephone soothed. “If you wait a while, I bet he’ll apologize.”
“He’s a jerk,” said Artemis while feeding bits of her sandwich to her three dogs. “You’re better off without him.”
Athena knew she shouldn’t be glad for Aphrodite’s troubles, but it was a relief to let someone else be the center of attention for a change. As soon as she finished her salad, she excused herself and got up to leave.
“Sorry. Gotta go,” she heard Heracles say to his many admirers at the same time. She wondered if he’d decided to leave just because she was leaving. Sure enough, he caught up with her outside the cafeteria. “Hey, I missed you today,” he said.
Athena raised an eyebrow.
He blushed. “Your help, I mean. I missed your help.”
She sniffed. “Why would you need my help when you have your club?”
He cocked his thumb back toward the godboys. “My fan club you mean?”
“No.”
Heracles’ brow wrinkled in confusion. “Oh!” he said after a pause. He clapped a hand over the club he held against his shoulder. “You think I used this on those birds today?”
“Well, didn’t you?” she asked accusingly. Even though she now knew that the birds he’d faced weren’t any sweet flock of songbirds, she hated to think he’d killed them.
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