“After we announce our selections, those chosen will stay for the Unveiling Ceremony. The losers will be escorted away and won’t participate in the ritual.”
New thunderbolts streak the sky like fireworks. Their warning echoes deep within my bones.
“Heath Harris,” Zeus roars.
Poseidon glares at his brother as the king steals the contestant he brought here. Heath takes a confident step away from our group and toward the gods.
“You’ll be my first challenger,” the king continues. “I expect you to make me proud.”
Heath gives him some sort of military salute before turning his head in my direction. I want to slap that smug smirk off his face. Then Zeus calls forth Bob Jr. The giant stands beside Heath.
Hera calls Jessica Grey as her first contender and a boy called Dexter next.
Poseidon is poised to select his challengers. He brought me here, but as he announces his selection, I see I didn’t leave enough of an impression on the Sea God for him to pick me. Or maybe he’s punishing me for trying to escape.
Athena calls Joan, the smart girl from the museum first, as could be expected. I zone out as names that aren’t mine are called out one after the other, the sense of dread clutching my heart strengthening as my chances grow slimmer.
When Hermes selects Amy first, I try to be happy for her. Yet it’s another spot I won’t get, and my mother’s salvation slips further away from me.
Gabriel beams as Aphrodite selects both him and Melody. I let go of his hand, smiling so he doesn’t feel bad leaving me behind. As soon as he can’t see me, I let my shoulders sag with the weight of my failure. There are ten of us left and only four more challengers to be selected.
Dionysus announces his two candidates. Now there are eight contenders, and one god left, Hades. The acrid taste of defeat fills my mouth.
It is reflective of the gods’ dislike for Hades that he would be the last one to choose. As a brother to Zeus, he should have been among the first to make his selection.
None of the contenders left will look at each other. For the first time since training started, we’re reminded that we’re competing against one another. One’s victory means another’s loss.
“Josh Matlin,” Hades calls the evil boy—a match made in hell.
I swallow the tears burning at the back of my throat as the certainty of my failure settles in. A god who chose Josh would never think of picking me.
Before Hades can speak again, a familiar voice interrupts him.
“Father, if I may…”
Every single person in the assembly turns toward Kieron, who’s making his way from the edge of the piazza toward his father with long, elegant strides.
He stops before his father. “I’d like to advise you on your last challenger.”
As the moonlight shines on Kieron’s chiseled profile, every single woman in the audience, human and divine alike, exhales a longing sigh.
Hades sneers. “You’d like to advise me?”
“You forget I have ways to assess people that you don’t, father,” his son answers without flinching. “You should know better than to question my judgment.”
The halo of darkness surrounding Hades thickens in tandem with his growing impatience. “Speak up, boy.”
“I’d like to offer Hope Diaz for your consideration.” I startle at the sound of my name.
“She lost her wrestling match. Twice.”
“She’s resourceful and resilient as well as erudite. She will make a fine challenger in my opinion.”
A warm glow wraps around my heart at Kieron’s praises.
“In your opinion? Why do you meddle in my business?”
Kieron’s face is set in a contemptuous scowl. “I thought you’d like to win, for once.”
Snickers emanate from the other eleven Olympian gods.
The death god bares his teeth. “Watch out, boy. You may have your tricks, but do you believe you’re a better judge of character than me, the god who judges all?”
Kieron steels his back against his father’s cruel dismissal. I hurt to have put him inadvertently in this position.
“Without the shadow of a doubt.” Kieron’s expression switches from blatant contempt to feigned deference to his father. “I’ve been listening on the challengers closely. I’m only looking out for your best interest.”
I’m afraid Hades will strike his son. But he holds back his fury and smiles, looking even scarier if that’s possible.
“We do like a little family competition, don’t we?” He scoffs at the other gods beside him, eliciting nervous chuckles. “Would you like to wager with me, Kieron? Your challenger against mine.”
Kieron looks taken aback by this proposal. He darts an inscrutable gaze toward me before replying. “I would, father.”
I don’t like the gleam in the dark pits of Hades’s eyes as he stares first at me, then at his son. “You’ll regret your decision when you learn the terms of our wager. But it is now too late to reconsider.” His voice booms around the piazza. “I call Hope Diaz as my second challenger.”
I force my unsteady legs to cooperate. I step beside Josh, whose hateful sneer feels suffocating. A thick silence falls onto the piazza.
“Kieron,” Hades says. “Take care of the losers.”
I try to catch my savior’s eyes to express my gratitude but he marches past me without a second glance. I don’t turn around to see him or the losers as they exit the piazza. I cannot bear to see the disappointment on their faces, or the hatred they must feel for me, the girl who stole someone’s rightful place.
I don’t deserve to stay, but here I am, ready to represent a god I hate in a competition I never wanted to take part in, beside a boy I despise.
Chapter 21
It takes a while for the audience to calm down after the unexpected twist that allowed me to stay in the competition. The gods look like they are still recovering as well from the near altercation among their ranks.
At last, Zeus speaks up. “Twenty-four challengers competing in ten quests. Only one will remain.” He stares pointedly at Heath. “The first quest will begin tomorrow when the sun reaches its zenith above Mount Olympus.”
I can’t wait to rip off the Band-Aid and delve into the competition to release some of my pent-up anxiety. There’s never anything worse than uncertainty.
“Upon your arrival, I explained that you all descend from gods, but none of you know who your ancestor is and what remnant of power may linger in your veins. By bathing in the Castalian fountain tonight, these powers will awaken, and with time, you may understand how to wield them.”
I gaze at the fountain. I never expected to have any kind of power, and I’m afraid of what I may discover as I take part in the ceremony.
“The Pythia will perform the rituals, as is her duty as Oracle of Delphi.” Zeus points at the old woman hunched over the fountain.
To think I’ve been looking for her all these days, and when I finally find her, it’s too late. I’m now stuck participating in the gods’ challenge, and I’m afraid of what she’ll unleash within me. What if my powers belong to Hades, my reluctant sponsor? What if they are dark and cruel? But then I recall Kieron is his son, and there is nothing of his father’s malice within him. Perhaps light can spring from darkness.
We form a crooked line in front of the fountain. Amy and Gabriel find my sides, their nearness infusing me with strength.
“Step forward, boy,” the Pythia croaks, her blind eyes staring fixedly at Heath.
It is the first time I’ve seen Heath uncomfortable, and I can’t help enjoying it. He does as he’s bid though, his silver tunic and pants catching the starlight as he towers over the old seer.
“Open your mouth,” she instructs him. Heath is forced to obey and drink from the battered bronze cup she brings to his lips while she chants. “Ichor and blood in one’s vein, together cause of wonder and pain. May the powers that lie within, by the water be revealed.”
“Step into
the fountain.” She waits for him to follow her command, as if she can see him, then adds, “Place your head under the stream.”
Heath steps directly under the urn that pours water down his head and soaks his clothes. At first nothing happens, but soon the knee-deep water starts boiling and an electric current crawls over his skin. Heath is enfolded in blinding light before he dims back to his natural appearance.
Zeus grins smugly as his challenger—and descendant apparently—steps out of the fountain. Hera’s expression is murderous as she watches the living proof of yet another one of her husband’s infidelities. If Heath had reason to smirk before, it will only worsen now that the fountain has revealed him as a descendant of Zeus. This is a nightmare.
Next to be called forth by the Pythia is Bob Jr., who despite his statuesque appearance, shares none of Heath’s arrogance. He shrivels before the old seer like a turbulent child facing a spanking.
“Open your mouth,” she repeats, chanting the same words as before while she presses the cup to his lips.
Under the water, Bob Jr.’s impressive muscles expand and he nearly breaks the urn pouring water on his head as he startles at his body’s transformation.
The Pythia beckons him to dry land. “Step out, descendant of Heracles.”
I look at our teacher, still standing behind us. His gaze is tender as he stares at his far-removed grandson—Bob Jr. is one lucky boy.
All the reveals aren’t as grand as the first two. Josh barely looks more feral as the water falls on his head, confirming he descends from Ares, and Jessica’s eyes develop a cold, calculating gleam as she’s deemed a descendant of Nemesis, Goddess of Vengeance. As a descendant of Apollo, Andrew’s wet skin sings in response to the water, while gusts of wind form a miniature hurricane around a girl whose name I haven’t bothered memorizing, tracing her back to Aeolus, the Wind God.
Amy’s feet hover an inch over the bottom of the fountain before she slumps down again. The display is enough to satisfy her hope of being related to Hermes, famous for his winged sandals.
I let Gabriel go before me. He looks terrified by the Pythia but he drinks from her cup. When the water cascades on his blond head, a soft glow envelops him. The mousy boy is no more. In his stead is a young handsome man who shines seductively at the crowd. My chest about bursts with pride.
“You’re all Aphrodite,” the Pythia smiles as Gabriel steps out. “Hope, come to me.”
I’m the only she’s called by name, and I don’t care for the special treatment. I’d rather remain unnoticed as far as she’s concerned.
I taste nectar from the cup she brings to my lips. Like ambrosia, its taste is overwhelming and extremely addictive, but I only get one sip. “Ichor and blood in one’s vein, together cause of wonder and pain. May the powers that lie within, by the water be revealed.”
I step over the ledge of the fountain and let the water flow over me. It is strange being the center of attention, so I close my eyes to avoid the curious stares. I try to pretend I’m back home under the shower, but there’s no forgetting how public this shower is. My hands feel warm, heat erupting from my open palms and the tips of my fingers. I look down to watch their benevolent golden glow, wondering whom that power belongs to.
But before I can come up with any sort of hypothesis, an image snaps in place of my hands, overwhelming me.
A hole opens at the bottom of the mountain, just above the clouds. Two pronged forks of onyx stand guard before it, like stone sentinels, daring trespassers to penetrate inside the dark tunnel.
“Come out, Hope,” the Pythia’s voice breaks my hallucination.
I blink to clear the fog that overtook my brain and step out.
The old seer leans closer to me as she whispers. “A double lineage, as I thought.”
“What do you mean? Who’s my ancestor?”
“Asclepius for one. As for the second one…we’ll have to wait and find out.”
She makes a shooing motion with her gnarled hands, dismissing me. Then she calls forth Melody.
I’m reeling from her obscure answer, but Gabriel and Amy won’t give me space to breathe.
Amy speaks first. “What happened to you back there? You totally zoned out.”
“Your eyes turned dead for a moment. Like a zombie.” Gabriel shudders.
My first impulse is to come up with a plausible explanation for my odd behavior, a lie that they would buy while I try to make sense of what happened in the fountain, but then I remember my promise to Amy. My friends deserve the truth, even if I don’t know what it is yet.
“I thought I saw something. Like a mirage.”
If I confessed this to my best friend Lily, she would worry I’d fallen prey to dementia. But here on Mount Olympus, my friends are much more willing to believe me.
“What sort of mirage?” Amy asks.
I massage my temples to fight a burgeoning migraine. “Can we discuss it later? I’m tired and I’m pretty sure it was just sheer exhaustion that made me see things.” Amy eyes me warily. “I’m not lying. I told you what happened.”
“Ok…” Fortunately for me, she’s way too excited about being related to Hermes to linger on my odd mishap. She grins. “I actually flew for a little while.”
“You hovered,” Gabriel corrects her. “I glowed.” He beams.
“That you did, pretty boy,” Amy teases him. “I didn’t catch who’s your ancestor, Hope.”
“Someone called Asclepius,” I mumble. “Have you heard of him?”
They both shake their heads no. “Clifford will know for sure,” Gabriel says.
“Then I guess I need to find Clifford.” I start toward the smart boy who descends from Hephaestus.
My family descends from the God of Medicine. It makes so much sense I’m surprised I didn’t consider it sooner. My grandmother was a nurse, my mother was a midwife, and I want to be a surgeon. Love of medicine truly runs in our blood.
I sought out Asclepius as soon as Clifford explained who he was, hoping he’d feel bound to me by a sense of kinship. But the lanky god with a severe mustache dodged my company and retreated to his palace adorned by a snake encircling a staff. I’ve lived seventeen years without a father; I can live the rest of my life without my obscure ancestor.
Now that the Unveiling Ceremony is over, the party has started. On Mount Olympus, there’s always an occasion to celebrate.
Satyrs play their instruments, accompanied by Naiads shaking their tambourines. The stars shine like light garlands hanging over the piazza. Wine magically fills our cups, and trays of succulent dishes waltz around. After everything that happened today, I think I deserve a pick-me-up. I taste wine for the first time, and decide I like it very much. So do Gabriel and Amy, judging by the rosy hue on their cheeks after they finish their first glass.
I’ll stop after the one cup. The competition starts tomorrow, and I can’t risk getting my very first hangover. We chatter for a while until Cupid steps into view. Then Gabriel, although he’s still standing beside us, is lost to our conversation. He doesn’t even react when Amy and I start placing bets as to who will kiss whom first. Love not only makes you blind, apparently it makes you deaf as well.
“I meant to ask,” Amy asks after a while. “What was this thing with Hades’s son? Do you even know him?”
I don’t feel comfortable discussing Kieron. “Sort of… We met a few times. He saved me from drowning when I tried to escape.”
Amy puckers her lips. “Sounds awfully romantic.”
I giggle. My roommate is the only teenage girl I know who would think romance is awful. I used to be the same until a week ago. But what Kieron did for me earlier changes all my conceptions of romance.
Melody and Sara, one of Artemis’s challengers, overhear our conversation and come up to us.
“Who was that god? He’s so gorgeous!” Melody gushes.
“Hades’s son,” Amy answers for me.
Melody sighs. “Are you two dating?”
My cheeks turn
crimson. “Of course not. I barely know him.”
“Are we allowed to date gods?” Sara asks.
“Considering your sponsor is the virgin goddess, I’d say no in your case,” Amy replies, delighted to be the bearer of bad news.
Sara’s hopeful smile fades away.
“To date a god. What a dream!” Melody says.
“Our boy is well on his way,” Amy comments drily, pointing at Gabriel silently communing with Cupid.
Gabriel blushes while I tap my foot impatiently. My relationship with Kieron feels private. Not something I want to advertise to the world.
I scan the crowd, looking for him. When I spot his pale hair, I slip away unnoticed, zigzagging through the dancers twirling in the center of the piazza so I can catch up with him. It looks like he’s leaving.
“Kieron,” I call after him, jogging down the road that winds toward the heroes’ villas. “Wait! I want to thank—”
He whirls around to face me. His arms are rigid at his sides, his hands balled into fists, and his eyes exude icy contempt as they land on me.
“Keep your distance,” he snarls before resuming his journey.
His hatred slams into my stomach like a punch. I stagger to a stop, the air knocked out of me. What have I done this time?
Chapter 22
I didn’t return to the party yesterday, nor did I cry after my encounter with Kieron down the road. My eyes feel raw from the unshed tears though. I thought I had an ally, but it turns out he despises me. And now he’s supposed to be my sponsor. I wonder how this is supposed to work out.
Amy must have some practice in drinking, because she doesn’t show any sign of fatigue as she pulls the covers away from my face.
I claw into the comforter. “Go away! Not ready,” I mumble. I’d rather retreat into sleep and avoid another disastrous day.
“Get up. We need to find our sponsors to prepare for the first challenge.”
She’s already wearing her usual white dress, her bejeweled scabbard dangling from her belt. Her sandals are different this morning—silver with tiny wings attached to the heels.
Olympian Challenger Page 13
