Artemis the Loyal (Goddess Girls)

by Holub, Joan

  They looked so much alike they had to be twins, she realized. Just like Apollo and her. Only while these giants were identical, she and Apollo were not. The only traits they had in common were glossy black hair, dark eyes, and archery skills.

  Ephialtes sent the goddessgirls a snooty glance. “I thought these Games were guys-only,” he said, one big hand scratching his ribs. Then his high voice turned snarky. “Although godboys do play like girls now that I think about it.” He laughed at his own lame joke.

  “Huh?” said Artemis, putting both hands on her hips and scrunching her face into a frown. The athletes on the field grumbled and began to move closer to the giants, as if they expected trouble. Or were thinking of starting some. She felt someone beside her and saw that Aphrodite had come over.

  “Maybe somebody better get my dad,” murmured Athena, sounding worried. Artemis glanced around, looking for Zeus or a teacher, but then she remembered there was a staff meeting that afternoon.

  “These Games. Guys-only,” Ephialtes repeated with insulting slowness, as if he thought MOA gods and goddesses were not very bright. “In fact, why are you girls even out here? Shoo!” He flicked his fingers toward the goddessgirls as if to sweep them off the field.

  The girls and most of the boys, too, stared at him, dumbfounded by his rudeness. Since Otus didn’t contradict Ephialtes, Artemis figured he must feel the same way. So much for good manners!

  “We’re just here to watch,” Persephone replied, trying to calm things.

  “Yeah. It’s the only thing we can do, since girls aren’t allowed to compete in the Games!” Artemis couldn’t help adding.

  “Way it should be,” Ephialtes said haughtily.

  Artemis saw Ares nudge Apollo and roll his eyes. Was he annoyed at the giant for talking to her that way? Or did he think she was being annoying for implying that girls should be able to compete in the Games? Well, these boys and giants were all annoying buttheads if they thought she was just going to stand here and take whatever they dished out.

  Her fist tightened around the ball she still held in her hand. Without thinking twice, she wound up and threw the ball with all her might. It zoomed toward the giants, right over Ephialtes’ head, parting his hair and making him duck in surprise. And still the ball flew on, out over the sports fields. Long seconds later, it finally landed an awesome full length of the field away! Thinking that another game had begun, her three pooches chased after it.

  “Were you aiming that at me?” shrieked Ephialtes, taking a step toward her. Artemis just shrugged.

  Aphrodite, Persephone, and Athena sidled closer as if fearing trouble. At the same time, Ares, Hades, Apollo, and Actaeon moved to flank the girls protectively.

  “No. Wait,” said Artemis, suddenly worried. Maybe she should try to smooth things over before a real fight broke out.

  Otus, the deep-voiced giant, took his brother’s arm. “Don’t be a twit, bro,” he said. “She’s just a girl. Girls can’t even aim, much less send a ball that far on purpose. It was just a lucky throw.”

  That did it! Artemis immediately lost interest in smoothing anything.

  She took a giant step toward the girly-voiced giant. “Yeah, you’re lucky I didn’t aim for your nose!” she yelled. “For your information, that ball went right where I meant it to. And there are plenty of girls at MOA who can throw as well. We’d probably beat half the boys in the Games if we were allowed to compete in them.”

  Ephialtes burst into laughter. He elbowed his brother. “Did you hear that, Otus? She thinks girls should be in the Games!” Between giggles, he managed to tell her, “There’s no way that’s gonna happen, girly. Besides, aren’t you worried you might mess up your hair?”

  “Shut it, giant!” shouted Ares. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd till he was standing nose-to-belt-buckle with the giant. “You can’t talk to her that way! Zeus commanded that the Games be boys-only. As is right. But you’re only guests here. Only giants. We’re the gods and we rule, so don’t try to boss us around! Not even the girls!”

  Ephialtes’ eyes flashed. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah!” said Ares, scowling.

  “Uh-oh,” Artemis heard Aphrodite say. “I know that look on Ares’ face. When he gets mad, it’s war.”

  In a show of solidarity, a dozen other MOA boys—Apollo, Hades, Actaeon, and Poseidon among them—stepped up beside Ares. Probably most of the boys at the Academy agreed with the boys-only Olympics rule. But if anyone was going to make fun of Artemis’s idea, the boys wanted it to be them, not these outsiders.

  “You leave my sister alone,” Apollo said, daring to give the giant’s belly a hard jab with the tip of his finger.

  Artemis would have appreciated him coming to her defense more if she’d thought that he saw her side of things. But she had a feeling he didn’t.

  “Stop this!” Persephone called, as things heated up even more.

  The boys and the giants ignored her as they circled around each other, eyes glaring and fists tightening. Artemis didn’t see who threw the first punch, but as soon as it happened a huge fight broke out.

  The giants were fierce brawlers. Standing back-to-back, they landed blows, knocking several boys over like toothpicks. Ares placed a kick to Otus’s shin. As the giant roared in pain and hopped on one foot, Apollo aimed a kick at his other shin. But before he could connect, Ephialtes snatched Apollo up by the back of his tunic so that his feet dangled off the ground.

  “You leave my brother alone!” Artemis shouted in alarm. Summoning up the bravery she was famed for, she doubled up her fists, then took a step toward the giant.

  Ephialtes grinned down at her. “You gonna do his fighting for him?”

  Artemis stuck out her chin. “If I have to!” She automatically reached over her shoulder for a magic arrow, then remembered she’d left her quiver and bow back in the dorm because she’d been in a hurry to get here. It was one of the rare times she’d gone off without them.

  The giant snorted. “Sorry—I don’t fight girls. Or boys who let girls do their fighting for them.” He lowered Apollo until he was about a foot off the ground, then dropped him so he tumbled to his knees. “Run to your big, strong sister now,” he said, patting him on the head, “so she can protect you.” He laughed again, and to Artemis’s horror, so did some of the godboys. Then both giants sauntered off toward the wrestling area.

  Apollo turned red as he leaped to his feet. Ramming both hands into the pockets of his tunic, he shot her a hard look. Then he stalked off in the opposite direction of the giants.

  Godzooks! For the second time in less than an hour, it seemed she’d embarrassed him.

  “Help, help! Can you protect me too, Artemis!” one of the godboys called out.

  Two red roses bloomed in her cheeks. “Who said that?” she demanded, confronting the crowd.

  “Actaeon did!” another voice yelled. Suddenly, Actaeon charged out of the crowd and slammed into her. The impact pushed her backward against the edge of the fountain. Her arms spun in the air for a second as Actaeon tried to grab her, but there was no saving her. Splash! She landed on her butt in the pool. Splash! Splash! Splash! Thinking it was a game, her dogs jumped in too, flinging water everywhere as they romped.

  Her embarrassment quickly turning to rage, Artemis struggled to her feet. Her hair was dripping wet, and her chiton clung to her like a big, wet ambrosia noodle. And there was something flopping around on her head—one of the magical fish!

  Actaeon stared at her in dismay for a split-second before bursting into laughter. The other godboys joined in, laughing too. Artemis shook her head wildly, until the fish disentangled itself from her hair. Iridescent scales flashing in the sunlight, it backflipped off her head to rejoin its friends.

  Still chuckling, Actaeon reached over the side of the fountain to help her out, but she pushed him away. Glaring at him, she said, “You have a weird sense of humor, mortal.”

  “Sorry, Artemis,” he said, looking like he was trying h
ard now not to smile. “It was kind of fishy, um, I mean funny, if you think about it. Let me help.” He reached for her again.

  “Okay.” Pretending to accept his help this time, she grabbed his hand with both of her own. Then she leaned backward and tugged, trying to pull him into the pool too. Unfortunately, her wet hands slipped. Splash! Back in the fountain. On her butt again. And a second later, a magical fish leaped onto her nose. She stared at it, cross-eyed and thoroughly humiliated. “Get off. I’m not part of your act!”

  Using her nose as a diving board, the fish flipped back into the pool. This only made Actaeon, and everyone else, laugh harder. Her eyes darted fire at him as she scrambled to her feet again, and climbed over the side of the fountain.

  “Never mind him,” Aphrodite said. Rushing forward, she and Athena took Artemis’s arms and tugged her away before she could give Actaeon the thrashing he deserved.

  “Never mind any of them,” said Athena, glaring at the crowd and the giants over on the field, who also appeared to be watching.

  “Let’s just go,” Persephone said softly. “You can change clothes back at the dorm.”

  Too angry to see reason, Artemis pulled away. Her blue-black eyes drilled into Actaeon’s gray ones. All of her annoyance at her brother, these boys, and the giants suddenly focused itself on him. Before she could stop herself, she was chanting a magic spell. And reaching a hand toward him.

  “Whosoever my hand doth tag.

  Turn that boy into a stag.”

  A look of alarm flitted across Actaeon’s face, and he tried to dodge her touch. But Artemis lunged forward and tapped him on the arm. “Tag—you’re a stag,” she sing-songed.

  Instantly, Actaeon dropped to all fours. As his limbs became sleekly furred, his hands and feet changed to hooves. The features of his face lengthened, and an enormous set of antlers sprouted from the top of his head. When the change was complete, Actaeon-the-stag gave a bleat and leaped away. Immediately, Artemis’s dogs gave chase, thinking this was some new game. To her surprise, her dogs weren’t the only ones to give chase.

  “Ephialtes, come back!” yelled Otus, the better-mannered giant. But his brother ignored him. His big feet shook the ground as he dashed from the sports field and thudded off after the stag.

  Godsamighty! thought Artemis. What have I done?

  3

  Brother vs. Sister

  THOUGH ARTEMIS WAS STILL FURIOUS AT ACTAEON—and being soaking wet and surrounded by the smell of wet dog made everything worse—she had to stop Ephialtes. Everyone knew that giants were notorious hunters. She hated to think what might happen if Actaeon were caught!

  Quickly, she shouted out a new chant:

  “Though this won’t give me any joy,

  Reverse the spell—turn stag to boy!”

  Ephialtes was gaining on Actaeon and was just about to grab his antlers when stag began to morph back into boy. The giant halted, a disappointed look on his face as the antlers disappeared and Actaeon regained his true form.

  At that very moment Coach Triathlon, who taught Olympics-ology at MOA, burst out of the doors of the gymnasium heading for the field. He was whistling, obviously unaware of all that had gone on. He paused as he passed Artemis, eyeing her soaked condition in surprise. “What happened to you?”

  “My dogs got into the fountain,” she replied. Technically, it wasn’t a lie, and it seemed to satisfy the coach, who moved on to speak to the two giants. Artemis looked toward the spot where Actaeon had been minutes before, but he was gone now.

  Fighting was against MOA rules. Since no one wanted to risk cancellation of the Games, not one of the students added a word of explanation. Not even Pheme, the goddessgirl of gossip, piped up. Probably because Persephone had wrapped both hands around the girl’s mouth!

  After Coach Triathlon handed out lists of teams and individual matchups for workouts the following day, practice was officially over. The athletes and students broke up into groups and started back toward MOA. As the two giants headed off in the opposite direction, everyone else buzzed with excitement about all that had happened.

  Except for the squishing sounds her feet made in her wet sandals, Artemis was silent as she walked. Sensing her mood, her friends didn’t try to get her to talk, but she felt their concerned eyes on her. Even her dogs were unusually subdued as they trailed the four goddessgirls.

  What had just happened back there? She wished she’d never gone to the field today at all. She needed to find Apollo and make sure he was okay. And she guessed she needed to see if Actaeon was too, even though he sort of deserved what she’d done.

  When the girls reached the courtyard, Apollo appeared, his hands still fisted deep in the pockets of his tunic. “Got a minute?” he asked Artemis in a tight voice. His dark eyes, so like hers, were flashing with emotion.

  “Right now?” she asked, looking down at her dripping chiton.

  He nodded.

  Artemis glanced at her friends. “Would you take my dogs up to my room for me?”

  “No problem,” said Persephone. Since befriending Hades’ dog, Cerberus, she’d become quite a dog-lover herself.

  As soon as they were alone, Apollo ripped into her. “Think you could do anything more to embarrass me today?” he yelled.

  Artemis drew back in surprise. “Huh? If you’re still mad about our race, I won that fair and square. And if you’re mad about what just happened with the giants, you ought to be thanking me instead. I wasn’t just going to stand by and let that giant cream you! What did you expect?”

  “Not for my sister to come to my rescue, that’s for sure! I can take care of myself.”

  “Uh-huh. I saw. Everyone saw.” Why should she say she was sorry? She’d helped him!

  “Why don’t you just stay off the field from now on?” he ranted. “Girls don’t belong out there anyway.”

  Ooh! It was the wrong thing to say. She got up in his face. “And why shouldn’t girls be in the Olympics? I’m a good athlete and you know it.”

  “Well, Zeus is the boss and he made the Olympics boys-only. You’re not a boy, so stop trying to act like one. And another thing—what you did to Actaeon was inexcusable! You know what I think?”

  “I can’t wait to hear!” she said sarcastically.

  “I think you did it just because he likes you.”

  “What?” Artemis felt her cheeks flush. She looked around. Students were going to and fro across the courtyard around them. She hoped no one had heard. “No, he doesn’t!” she hissed.

  Apollo sent her a superior look, like he knew something she didn’t. Did boys talk about the girls they liked in the same way girls talked about boys?

  “You’re crazy!” Artemis said, looking away from him. “I turned him into a stag because he deserved it. He pushed me into the fountain!”

  “Well, you’re just lucky no one ratted you out to the coach.”

  Feeling cold drops of water streaming down her legs, Artemis reached down and wrung out the hem of her chiton. “I can’t believe you’re not backing me up. Actaeon doesn’t like me. He was laughing at me!”

  “Like you made the other guys laugh at me by coming to my rescue?” Apollo clasped his hands over his heart and began speaking in a high voice meant to mimic her own. “Oh, big, bad giant, please put my poor defenseless brother down or I’ll beat you up.”

  “It wasn’t like that and you know it! I was just—”

  “Hey!” someone called out to them. They looked over to see Heracles coming their way. Earlier, he’d been wearing the school’s wrestling uniform—a stretchy blue and gold tunic—but now he was dressed in his usual manner, wearing a lion-skin cape with jaws that fitted his head like a helmet. Doesn’t he ever get hot in that furry thing? Artemis wondered.

  Though Aphrodite often made fun of Heracles’ fashion sense, Apollo and the other boys all thought the cape was cool. They admired Heracles for his many feats of strength and courage. As part of the twelve labors he’d had to complete in order to remain
at MOA, he’d recently battled death-dealing birds and a dangerous Cretan bull!

  But Artemis didn’t really feel like talking to anyone now. She felt hurt. And confused. She and Apollo usually had each other’s backs. It felt weird that he wasn’t supporting her. Couldn’t he see that his anger was way out of proportion to what she’d done?

  “Hey, I’m not interrupting, am I?” Heracles asked, glancing from one twin to the other.

  “Nope,” said Apollo. “What’s up?”

  “Coach told me you hadn’t signed up for an Olympic event yet,” he said to Apollo.

  What? Artemis glanced at her brother in surprise. Every boy at MOA was expected to compete in at least one event. She’d assumed Apollo would choose the foot races and maybe the long jump. But come to think of it, he’d never told her which events he was going out for.

  “The wrestling team could use some new blood,” Heracles hinted. “It’s not too late to sign on.”

  Apollo made a wry face. “Thanks, but wrestling’s not really my thing.”

  Heracles grinned. “Can’t say I blame you. Those giants are going to be stiff competition this year.”

  He glanced at Artemis. “Too bad you can’t join in the Games to protect us from them, huh?” He laughed, not seeming to notice that his joke fell flat. “And it’s too bad for your brother there’s no archery event. You’d be his only real competition, but you can’t compete!” He smiled at her, like she should be pleased at the compliment. She scowled at him. Why were boys so dense? He obviously didn’t realize that his words were hurtful to both her and Apollo!

  There was an awkward silence as neither twin responded to Heracles. “Well, uh, later, then,” Heracles said at last. With a wave, he loped back toward the main building.