Olympian Challenger

by Astrid Arditi

  “I wouldn’t know how to,” I whisper.

  I inch closer to the altar nonetheless.

  “Let me show you.” She adds laurel leaves to water in a delicately carved bowl. It reminds me of my night at Nereus’s grotto.

  “Quite similar, yes,” the oracle says, once again reading my thoughts. “Water has many magical properties. It is conducive for prophecies. As a seer, you should learn to use it.”

  Indignation takes over me as if she’s accused me of something evil and dangerous.

  “I’m not a seer.”

  “For someone with clear vision, your judgment is awfully muddled.” Her sagging face is impassive, but it sure feels like she’s having fun at my expense. “I was there during the Unveiling Ceremony. I saw what you saw.”

  “I didn’t see anything.”

  “Of course, dear girl.” She swirls her fingers in the water. “How was your trip to Erebus? Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “I met Kieron but—” Oh. She truly shared my vision of Erebus’s entryway.

  Her cackle frays my rattled nerves.

  “So that talk about two lineages, that was true?”

  “Asclepius’s powers run in your veins, but some other divinity’s as well.”

  “Who then? You?”

  The thought seems to amuse her immensely. “Not me, Hope. Oracles are sworn to chastity. Although I would have been proud to count you as my kin.” She pats my arm. “As to whom you belong to, many prophetic divinities have roamed the Earth. You could descend from any one of them.”

  I smirk. “You can’t see the answer?”

  “I can’t.” She gestures for me to bend over the bowl. “The water will know. Would you care to find out?”

  I jerk backward. “Not today.”

  I don’t think I can handle another revelation today. Especially not with the second quest coming up so soon.

  “I need to go.”

  The Pythia crows good-naturedly as if she enjoys my distress. “Come back to visit me then. I’ll be here.”

  “Goodbye.” I scuttle away.

  She doesn’t echo my farewell. Her crooked back has straightened as she gazes into the water, entranced in her otherworldly vision. I fear that it’s about me.

  Chapter 26

  Only the heroes await us at the Olympian Palace today. I wonder if the gods have tired of us already. But when they lead us to the side of the mountain, the crowd gathered downslope assures me they haven’t. The air cools as we approach the gods until my breath frosts in the air. Our outfits do nothing to protect us from the polar cold.

  Grandstands have been installed for the minor divinities, while the twelve Olympian gods lounge in their thrones, sporting magnificent furs. I can’t help looking for Kieron in the crowd, nor can I avoid sharp disappointment that he hasn’t shown up.

  The gods face a vast, fenced orchard of dismal dead trees. The ground is covered with powdery snow. Aphrodite waves her hands, sending the usual haze of glitter our way. My dress changes to a deep burgundy with long sleeves. The color and cut of my gown matches Hera’s exactly, so she must be the goddess we honor today. I could also have figured it out from her banner planted before the orchard.

  Heracles stands before us, fists against his hips and oak-barrel legs planted firmly on the grass. A lion pelt covers his bare shoulders.

  “A long time ago, I was assigned twelve tasks as punishment for my crimes. A chance to redeem myself and prove my valor to the gods.” He doesn’t seem to notice the cold, unlike shivering me. I stomp the ground to warm up. “Your quest today is inspired by my expedition to the Garden of Hesperides. But you won’t have to journey to find it because it stands before you.”

  I take in the holes in the ground before the rotten fence, the dead trees and icy soil. This isn’t a garden. It’s a frozen cemetery. The thought sends shivers down my bare legs.

  “To succeed in this second quest, all you need to do is pick an apple from the Garden of Hesperides and offer it to Hera, our Olympian Queen, who’ll be waiting here.”

  “Hope,” Gabriel whispers besides me. “There are no apples on these trees.”

  I frown. “I know.”

  “It’s official. The gods have gone mad,” Amy says.

  “I wish you luck, champions,” Heracles roars over the loud trumpet sound.

  The crowd cheers us on while we gawk at the orchard. There is no way of winning this. Melody and Clifford, the clever boy who lost his teammate to Prometheus’s quest yesterday, huddle closer to us.

  “What are we supposed to do?” Melody asks.

  “Pick an imaginary apple from a frozen orchard,” Clifford mutters.

  “What did you learn today with your sponsors?” I ask, hoping they were given more clues than I was.

  “Hermes talked about a dragon guarding the garden,” Amy says.

  Gabriel stares ahead. “But there isn’t any dragon.”

  Melody sighs. “Aphrodite went on and on about the time Paris gave her an apple because she was the most beautiful goddess.”

  “She’s superficial. What’s new?” Amy says.

  Gabriel glowers at her but Clifford speaks before he can defend his sponsor.

  “Hephaestus talked about another quest. The Stables of Augeas, where Heracles used the river to clean the stables. I see a brook over there.” He points at the stream running through the orchard. “He also talked about the Hydra, yet another one of Heracles’s quests.”

  “What’s a hydra?” Melody asks.

  Amy skates downhill toward the garden. “We might as well get on with it and try to figure something out.”

  Peter, her teammate, is the first one at the fence. He looks for a gate but when he finds none, he launches himself toward the fence, aiming to jump over it. Just as he passes over one of the holes in the ground, a purple snake head, larger than Peter, pops out and digs its fangs into his chest. The snake’s yellow slit eyes gleam fiercely as it drags Peter underground, swallowing his pleas for help so fast I wonder if I dreamed the whole scene. Clifford’s staggered expression attests that it was real.

  Amy is petrified, just a few feet away from the hole she was about to jump over. Bile rises in my throat as I run toward her.

  “I’m so sorry, Amy.”

  She crosses her arms before her chest, her face a stone mask. “He was no one to me. How do we get across?”

  “What was that thing?” Gabriel whispers as he nears us.

  Jared, one of Poseidon’s challengers, approaches the fence from the side, flanked by Georgia, his teammate. They are as far away from the snake as can be, but he points ahead with his trident anyway. Georgia has drawn her saber as well.

  As they creep between two holes, two snake heads pop out simultaneously. They expected one at most, and in their surprise, their parries are clumsier than usual. Georgia manages to get away after slashing at one head, but Jared’s arm gets nipped before he fights his off. By taking Georgia’s extended hand, he scarcely makes it to the fence. They scramble hurriedly to the other side, where the snake—or snakes rather—can’t reach them.

  “It’s the Hydra,” Clifford says.

  “It has seven heads!” I remember from my morning’s readings. “But only one can be killed.”

  “How do we know which one it is?” Melody asks.

  “Just stay away from them all,” Amy says, unsheathing her dagger.

  Gabriel brings out his sword and Melody her slingshot. Only Clifford and I are reluctant to use our weapons.

  “There must be another way to get past it,” Clifford says.

  I scan the area around the fence. The holes run all around its perimeter, but so do big boulders.

  “Do you think those would be big enough to block the Hydra’s exit?” I ask Clifford.

  “Could be. We could roll them down onto the holes. It should give us enough time to get across.”

  “Let’s try it.” I trot toward the biggest one.

  I try to push it with n
o luck. It’s way too heavy for me.

  “A little help here, please,” I holler.

  Gabriel, who looks relieved to escape the fighting, comes to help me along with Clifford. Together we roll it down, snow clinging to the boulder so it looks like we’re building a snowman, then we push it onto a hole. Meanwhile Amy sprints past us, stabbing the Hydra’s eye fearlessly. It retreats into its hole, letting her through. Another head snaps at Heath, who fends it off effortlessly. Melody waits behind us for the safe route we’ll provide if our plan works.

  I throw a small pebble against the rock to see if the sound will attract the Hydra. It tries to come out, but the boulder stands strong. Clifford climbs it first, followed by Melody, then Gabriel and me, holding hands so we can go at the same time. Joan and Madeline take advantage of our ruse next.

  I exhale once I reach the safety of the orchard. Everyone in our group has made it, although the thought of Peter being devoured by the Hydra still haunts me. I remember Jared, whom I find trembling on the ground with a worried Georgia bent over him.

  I kneel next to her. The gash on Jared’s arm looks infected. As I stare at his wound, I wait for my hands to start heating up but to no avail.

  “Can I touch it?” Maybe the contact to the injury will awaken my powers.

  As soon as my fingers connect, they flame up. I sigh in relief as energy flows between me and Jared, disinfecting his wound until I feel there is no trace of the Hydra’s poison left in his blood, then mending the skin.

  “Thank you,” Jared whispers in wonder, the grayish sheen of pain gone from his clear green eyes.

  Georgia pushes a long strand of blond hair from her face as she squeezes my hand. “We owe you one.”

  “Glad I could help.”

  My group gathered around me while I healed Jared.

  “Is Peter… dead?” Gabriel asks.

  Amy and I exchange a knowing look that makes Gabriel whimper. There’s no way Peter survived the attack.

  I fight my wobbly knees to stand up. Three maidens in gauzy gowns wander between the dead trees. Together they look like a sunset, one in yellow, the other in orange, and the last one in red. They all have hair in stupendous shades of red. I’m not particularly surprised to see their resemblance. Most beautiful divinities in Mount Olympus seem to have sisters, and they usually come in sets of threes. They would drive human boys mad if they ever showed up on Earth.

  The one that looks like a drop of blood in the snow comes to greet us. Her eyes are the color of the sun as it sets ablaze the evening sky.

  She addresses Gabriel flirtatiously. “It’s been a while since we’ve had visitors. I’m Erytheia, and with my sisters, we are the Hesperides. Come to pick our fruits?”

  Gabriel blushes all the way to his hairline.

  “This one is a lost cause.” Melody laughs, patting Gabriel’s shoulder.

  I step forward. “We were sent to pick an apple. But we don’t see any.”

  “The apple trees are frozen. Now the apples need persuasion to show themselves. They like to be courted,” the Hesperid explains.

  “How?” Gabriel asks, finally over his initial shock.

  “I do not doubt you will find out. Once your branch blossoms, two apples will grow. Pick yours wisely,” she says, leaving us to meet with new contenders.

  I stop her before she reaches Joan and Madeline. “How will we know which one to pick?”

  “I will find you once your branch has blossomed.”

  Clifford stares between the tree next to him and the brook, a calculating light in his eyes. I leave him to his planning and look for my friends. Gabriel runs a hand against the wrinkled bark of a small tree, as if listening to it. Amy looks like she’s about to punch the tree next to it.

  “Amy, I don’t think hitting it will help,” I tease.

  The branch I select on Gabriel’s tree is scrawny, petrified by the cold, yet I can almost feel the chlorophyll pulsing under the bark, the tree’s feeble attempt to survive.

  “What do you need?” I whisper, leaning my forehead against the branch.

  Heat rushes to my fingertips, like moments ago when I fixed Jared’s arm. Can I fix this tree? Does it need to be healed? The answer is obvious considering its pitiful state.

  I trail my fingers on the branch and shut my eyes. I picture the tree’s roots first, deep below the frozen ground, digging for the nutrients it needs to subsist. I encourage it to dig deeper until it’s satiated. Then my mind’s eye goes up the trunk of the tree, pushing the life force toward the branches, where the leaves should be. In my imagination, the ice melts and vibrant green leaves grow. White blossoms flourish on the branches. Then I picture the flowers turning into apples, ripe and juicy.

  “You did it, Hope!” Gabriel exclaims, making my eyes snap open.

  I stumble backward, shaking my hands to chase away their fiery glow. The tree still looks dead, but the branch I touched is full of vitality, with two apples dangling from it.

  “You healed it, right? I have an idea,” he says before applying both hands to his branch.

  I smile as he whispers compliments to the wood. The aura that surrounded him that night in the fountain returns, switching on his seduction until it’s hard even for me to look at him. Soon the apples grow on his branch as well.

  “Did you charm the tree?” I grin.

  “I figured it might be insecure,” he explains sheepishly. “Everyone needs a little love and care.”

  Amy shakes her tree like a madwoman, flecks of snow fluttering on her hair and face. Clearly, her brain doesn’t work the same as ours. Clifford digs trenches in the snow, diverting the brook toward his tree, while Andrew sings to his branch, causing it to bloom.

  I look for the Hesperid we talked to earlier to ask which apple to pick. She’s staring at Jessica, who’s threatening her tree, with disdain. I gasp when Jessica’s technique works.

  The Hesperid then comes to inspect our tree.

  “Your branches have blossomed. Congratulations.”

  “What do we do now?” I point at the two fruits within my reach. One apple is red and luscious and the other is made of gold.

  “You have to solve this riddle to find out.” She makes sure she has both our attentions before reciting:

  “One apple means forever, the other one forever apart.

  One is a most precious gift, the other one a subject of discord.

  One will please our mistress, the other one will be your downfall.”

  Gabriel stares at the fruits, scratching his head pensively. My first instinct is to pick the gold apple. It is more precious and gold lasts forever. Plus, it seems like a gift more befitting for a goddess. Gabriel thinks the same as he reaches for the gold apple.

  Before he can pluck it, I stop him. “Are you sure?”

  “No,” he admits. “But gold would make sense.”

  “Except for the discord part. Bloodshed may be red, but I’ve never heard of people fighting for a red apple. Gold on the other hand…”

  I don’t have to finish my sentence. Gabriel picks the red apple instantly.

  “You don’t have to follow what I say. What if I’m wrong?”

  “It makes sense, Hope. Besides, we both know the gods are devious. They would try to trick us.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I say as I pluck the red apple from my branch.

  I notice Clifford’s plan has worked, too. By watering the roots of his tree, the ice has thawed on his branch and the apples have blossomed. He listens to the Hesperid in the yellow dress and takes the red apple, like us. If the clever boy has come to the same conclusion as me, it makes me feel more confident about my choice.

  Amy hasn’t had any luck with her tree. Gabriel and I surround her in moral support.

  “I can try to heal your tree,” I suggest.

  “Nah. It needs to be me. But I don’t have healing powers and I can’t steal something that isn’t there,” she mutters.

  Andrew beside her selects the golden apple f
rom his tree, which leaves the red one.

  “But I could steal his apple!” She rushes to his branch and grabs the unwanted red one.

  She looks at it forlornly.

  “What’s wrong,” I ask?

  “It isn’t gold,” she says.

  Gabriel guffaws. “Trust me, for once, it’s a good thing.”

  “Let’s go back,” I say, turning in direction of the gods who are watching us still.

  “What about the Hydra?” Gabriel asks.

  “Someone must have cut off its head,” Amy says, pointing to Joan strolling between holes on the other side of the fence without getting attacked. “Or maybe it went back to wherever it came from once we all made it into the orchard.”

  “We should hurry,” Gabriel urges us forward. “I want to be as far away from here as possible in case it ever decides to come back.”

  As we scramble over the fence, I see Andrew handing his golden apple to Hera with a flourish. The goddess disintegrates the apple with her stare before it can reach her, while scowling at poor Andrew.

  “Andrew’s out,” Amy gloats. “Do you know what this means?”

  Gabriel and I send puffs of smoke into the air as we exclaim in unison. “We won!”

  Chapter 27

  We received a message this morning inviting us to the shores of Mount Olympus for the third quest. It is easy to figure out which god is being honored today—Poseidon. The book Kieron had delivered to my room this morning, The Iliad and the Odyssey, implied as much anyway.

  Amy tenses besides me.

  “What’s wrong? Still recovering from yesterday’s party?”

  It was more like a wake considering we were all mourning Peter, the first challenger to die in a quest. And it was held at the Olympian Palace with Hera as the hostess as well as guest of honor. As could be expected from the Olympian Queen, the feast was lavish and grandiose but stiff, and more than one contender drank too much wine to dull their discomfort. Amy was among those who fell in the barrel so to speak.

  She stares into the waves. “I’m not a strong swimmer, Hope.”