by Holub, Joan
“Wha . . . ?” Before she could ask him to explain, they heard footsteps. Actaeon burst into the grove, then abruptly halted. “Oh, hi,” he said looking from one to the other.
“What’s up?” asked Apollo. “You here to see me about something?”
“Actually,” said Actaeon, the tips of his ears turning bright red, “I wanted to talk to Artemis.”
“Well, go ahead. There she is,” Apollo said, gesturing toward her. Artemis’s cheeks felt warm. She was sure they must be as red as Actaeon’s ears. And she was equally sure that Apollo had noticed. He was grinning now, in a teasing mood.
Actaeon shifted from one foot to the other as if he were trying to think up an excuse for having come. Looking at Artemis, he said, “I . . . um . . . heard your voice, and I . . . um . . . just wanted to say I was disappointed when I heard that Zeus won’t let you keep on with your petition.”
“What petition?” asked Apollo. He’d been in his own little world so much the past few days, he apparently hadn’t heard!
“My friends and I were gathering signatures to try to convince Principal Zeus to let us start a girls-only Olympics,” Artemis told him. “We got over sixty kids to sign our first day. Only then Zeus found out about our petition and made us stop.”
Apollo rolled his eyes. “I wish I’d known. I could’ve told you it was a bad idea.”
“Yeah, well, some boys didn’t think so,” Artemis said stiffly. “Actaeon signed!”
“What?” Apollo looked at him like he was some kind of traitor. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I’m on the side of fairness,” Actaeon said, sweeping away a strand of light brown hair that had fallen in front of one eye. “Girls should have their own games if they want. Why not?”
Artemis felt herself falling a little more in like with this boy! “I haven’t given up,” she said, as much to Apollo as to Actaeon.
Her brother raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me you’re not planning to disobey Principal Zeus!”
“No,” she said. “But I—” She paused, not wanting to tell him about Hera and how she was the girls’ last hope. After all, Hera had warned her that even she might not be able to get Zeus to take the girls-game idea seriously. “—I meant to say that I haven’t given up hope. Maybe Zeus will change his mind.”
Apollo snorted. “Fat chance.”
“Well, at least you fought for what you believe in,” Actaeon told her. “You tried to change things. I admire you for that.”
“Really? Thanks,” said Artemis. He was such a sweet boy. And cute. But not in a flashy way like Orion, her first crush. Sweet was way better than flashy, she decided.
Ahem. Apollo cleared his throat extra-loudly to get their attention. Artemis jumped, realizing she and Actaeon had both just been standing there, staring at each other. What was wrong with her? Sure she was goddess of the moon, but mooning over a boy wasn’t like her at all!
“Just curious,” said Apollo, “how many boys actually signed your petition?”
“I’m not sure,” said Artemis. She didn’t know if Hades and Heracles had actually had time to sign the petition before Zeus squashed the girls’ ambitions.
“Ten?” Apollo guessed.
“Maybe not quite so many,” Artemis admitted.
“More than five?”
“Um . . . at least three.”
“And I’m proud I was the first,” Actaeon put in.
Apollo looked unimpressed. Sitting on the bench again, he unrolled his scroll. “No offense, but I need a little peace and quiet. I’ve got some work to do before tomorrow’s contest.”
“Sure, no problem.” Actaeon glanced at Artemis. “I’m going to head back to the dorms.”
“I’ll go with you,” Artemis said quickly and Actaeon looked delighted.
“Later, then. You guys have fun!” Apollo flashed Artemis a grin.
Ignoring his teasing, she said, “Yeah. Whatever. Bye.” His jabs about the petition aside, she was glad he didn’t seem to dislike Actaeon the way he had Orion. She did care about Apollo’s opinion even if he didn’t care about hers—at least not where Python and the Her-O-Lympics were concerned.
As she and Actaeon walked back across the courtyard, she stumbled over an uneven tile that had been struck by one of Principal Zeus’s thunderbolts during his bad mood pre-Hera era. Actaeon caught her arm and steadied her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She smiled at him, and then he surprised her by curling his hand around hers. Her eyes went wide, but she didn’t pull away. Still, she was thinking hard about what he had done and why he’d done it. It definitely meant he liked her. She didn’t need Aphrodite to figure that out! Hands linked, they started walking again.
Only when they reached the top of the Academy’s granite steps did he drop her hand. He moved to open the bronze doors, but Artemis was quicker. “I’ll get it!”
“Uh, thanks,” he said, moving past her as she held the door open.
“You’re welcome,” she said. Then it dawned on her that he’d wanted to hold the door open for her. “You can get the next door,” she told him.
He chuckled. “Sure thing.” Chatting together easily, they took the staircase. At the entrance to the fourth-floor dorms Actaeon made a show of holding the door open for her as they separated. Artemis smiled at him and then practically floated down the hall to her room. She’d never felt so light before, not even with Orion. Actaeon had said he admired her for fighting for what she believed in and trying to change things. Wasn’t that nice of him? She smiled to think how her opinion of him had reversed itself so completely. It was only two days ago that she’d turned him into a stag!
Although the next morning was Saturday, Artemis got up even earlier than she would have for school. It was Olympics Day! After dressing quickly, she took her dogs on a long walk before breakfast. They were going to have to stay in her room all day, so she wanted to tire them out. It would be too dangerous to take them to the Games. Although they couldn’t get into much trouble playing Dodge-the-Student in the hallways, it would be a disaster if they dashed between the runners in the footraces or tried to catch a flying discus.
Later, when Artemis reached the arena, she saw it was festooned with colorful flags from all of the participating schools, including the blue and gold of MOA. Athena had arrived early and saved space for her friends on a bleacher only a few rows above the stage. It was a good thing, too, as the arena was now packed full.
“Pardon me, excuse me,” Artemis said, trying to avoid stepping on toes as she made her way over to her friends. When she reached them, she squeezed in between Persephone and Aphrodite. The first event was to be the wrestling contest. The four goddessgirls buzzed excitedly about who they thought would win and receive the traditional honor of being crowned with an olive wreath. As in all the events, there would be prizes as well, including gift certificates to shops in the Immortal Marketplace and no homework for an entire month.
Ta-ta-ta-TAH! As the wrestlers entered the arena, three heralds each lifted a long narrow bronze tube with a bell on its far end to his lips and blew. The trumpetlike instrument was called a salpinx, and upon hearing its notes, the crowd quieted. In unison, the heralds then announced the schedule of the day’s events.
Each seemed to be trying to shout louder than the others, as if the very act of making themselves heard was an Olympic event they were vying to win. And since each one was from a different school, that was quite possibly the case!
As the first pair of wrestlers began to grapple, Artemis spied Principal Zeus and Hera. They were sitting way down in front at stage level upon two blue and gold velvet thrones. Zeus was dressed in a blinding-white satin tunic with a sash of MOA’s blue and gold, and when he moved his arms, his wide gold bracelets flashed in the sun. He looked every bit the King of the Gods today!
Hera looked regal too, wearing a shimmery blue chiton, belted at the waist with a delicate gold chain. Her thick blond hair had been wound into an elaborate knot, and ju
tting from it was a fan of iridescent peacock feathers.
After several elimination matches, the wrestling semifinals came down to just two pairs: Otus vs. Heracles, and Ephialtes vs. Atlas. There were lots of throws and thumps during their matches, but no one was pinned. Finally, Heracles was declared the winner of his match, and Ephialtes of his. Otus looked a little disappointed to have lost, but like the good sport he was, he shook Heracles’ hand and clapped him on the back. Now Heracles and Ephialtes would battle it out for the crown!
“Go Heracles! Woot woot!” shouted Artemis. She hadn’t wanted to cheer too loudly for Heracles when he was matched with Otus, since Otus was her friend too. But now she cut loose! As Ephialtes and Heracles faced off for the final match, Artemis leaned past Aphrodite to speak to Athena. “Do you think Heracles can beat him?”
“I hope so,” Athena replied, clasping her hands in her lap so tightly that her knuckles went white. “I think he cares more about winning this championship than he did about completing the twelve labors my dad assigned him.” Since Heracles wouldn’t have been able to stay at MOA if he hadn’t completed those labors, that was saying a lot!
As Artemis leaned back in her seat again, Aphrodite put a hand over Athena’s and squeezed briefly, lending support.
Standing face-to-face, Heracles and Ephialtes circled around each other. Suddenly the giant lunged. Locking his hands behind Heracles’ lower back, Ephialtes pressed his forehead into Heracles’ chest and pulled him forward, forcing the mortal boy to bend backward.
Athena sucked in her breath. “Ye gods. An inverted bear hug!”
The crowd, most of whom were rooting for Heracles, groaned.
“That’s gotta hurt,” said Persephone, wincing as Ephialtes forced Heracles lower and lower.
Athena clapped her hands over her eyes. “I can’t watch! Tell me when it’s over.”
Just before Heracles’ shoulders could touch the mat, bringing him dangerously close to losing, he somehow managed to thrust Ephialtes away and spring free. The crowd roared its approval.
“You can look now,” said Aphrodite. “He’s fine.”
Athena dropped her hands to her lap. “Phew. That was a close one.”
“How do you know?” teased Artemis. “Were you peeking through your fingers?”
“Maybe a little,” Athena admitted with a grin.
Heracles and Ephialtes were circling each other again. The goddessgirls whistled and cheered and waved homemade banners they’d made during the week, calling:
“Heracles—he’s our man.
If he can’t beat ’em, no one can!”
Suddenly Ephialtes stumbled. Before he could regain his balance, Heracles grabbed him. He forced Ephialtes’ head down, locking the giant’s own arm around it. Now Ephialtes was upside down with his feet in the air. It looked strange to see Heracles, a boy only about half as tall as the giant, holding him that way.
A group of onlookers in the stands cheered:
“Seize him, Squeeze him.
Her-a-CLES him!”
Athena’s eyes sparkled with admiration. “That’s called a vertical suplex,” she said with awe. Now Heracles leaned over backward, using his own weight to slam Ephialtes onto his back. And there Heracles held him, triumphantly pinning the giant’s shoulders to the mat, for a full three seconds—all it took to win!
As soon as Coach Triathlon signaled the end of the match, the crowd went crazy. Artemis spotted two girls she didn’t recognize holding up a sign that read: I HERACLES. Well, they can Heracles all they like, Artemis thought, but Heracles won’t them back. Athena had already captured his .
Ephialtes still lay on the stage staring up at the sky as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. The heralds blew a fanfare on their salpinxes, then announced the official verdict in unison. “And the Olympic wrestling championship goes to . . . Heracles!”
The crowd went wild now, jumping up and down, and the goddessgirls joined in. “Bravo!” shouted Athena. “Bravo!” Artemis wasn’t exactly sure if that was the right thing to shout at a wrestling match, but it didn’t matter. Everyone else was yelling so loudly no one could really hear Athena.
Glancing back at the stage, Artemis saw that Ephialtes had finally gotten to his feet. As if frozen in place, he glared out at the crowd like they were somehow to blame for him losing the contest. Meanwhile, Zeus rose from his throne and stepped onto the stage to congratulate Heracles and crown him with an olive wreath. Still, Ephialtes just stood there, scowling. Why didn’t he climb down from the stage and go sit on the bench with Otus? Artemis wondered.
The heralds blew on their salpinxes again and announced that the footraces would be taking place next on the outdoor track. As was the custom at MOA, Zeus and Hera were first to leave the arena, followed by the teachers and coaches. The students had just risen to follow, when a yell came from the stage. “Hey! Stop! What are you doing?”
Artemis turned, just in time to see Ephialtes snatch the championship olive wreath from Heracles’ head!
14
Stag Tag
GIVE ME THAT!” HERACLES DEMANDED. “I won it fair and square!” He tried to snatch the wreath back, but Ephialtes held it high, keeping it far above Heracles’ reach. Then he dropped it on his own head.
“The championship should be mine!” Ephialtes shouted. “I deserve it!” He turned toward the crowd. “You know I’m better than Heracles. I just stumbled is all.”
Zeus and Hera and the other adults were long gone, but as soon as the students who had been pressing toward the exits heard the shouting, they turned back. When they saw what was happening, the MOA godboys rushed to Heracles’ defense, jumping up on the stage to confront Ephialtes. In less time than it takes to shout “Godsamighty,” a free-for-all broke out.
Several godboys jumped onto the giant’s back reaching for the wreath, but he shook them off. More godboys grabbed on to his arms and legs. Otus leaped into the fray too, trying to protect his brother. Artemis was sure he wouldn’t have approved of Ephialtes’ wreath snatch, though. Otus and Heracles were friends after all, and it was obvious to everyone except Ephialtes that Heracles had won the championship.
As they wound their way down from the stands, Persephone exclaimed, “This has to stop before Principal Zeus finds out about it. He’ll cancel the rest of the competitions!”
Cancel the Olympics? That would mean Apollo couldn’t be creamed by Python! Artemis realized, looking on the bright side. On the other hand, although she might not think it fair that the Games were boys-only, she wouldn’t want all those who had trained so hard to lose their chance to compete in the rest of the events. All because of Ephialtes’ bad sportsmanship!
Athena’s forehead furrowed. “Cancelling the competitions might not be the worst of it. This could lead to an Interworld catastrophe. It could even cause a war!”
War? You can’t get much more catastrophic than that! thought Artemis. If only there was some way to get Ephialtes to leave the arena. The fighting would end for sure. Artemis thought hard. Suddenly she recalled Otus’s words that day in Hero-ology: “If there’s one thing my brother can’t resist, it’s a hunt. He’d even abandon a pile of gold or, better than that, one of my mom’s home-cooked meals to chase a stag.”
Artemis didn’t need Ephialtes to abandon a pile of gold or a home-cooked meal, only a wreath! “I’ve got an idea how to stop this,” she announced.
Aphrodite’s brows rose. “What are you—”
But before she could even finish her question, Artemis had already begun chanting her spell:
“With my own hand, myself I tag.
Turn this goddessgirl into a stag!”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she visualized herself as a majestic stag with smooth brown fur and beautifully curved antlers. Instantly, she fell forward onto her hands and feet. Arms and legs became four sturdy limbs with hooves at each end. Her face grew longer and antlers grew from the top of her head. All around her, the audience and athletes shrieked
, running to get out of her way.
In the next moment, she sprang from the stands. With a mighty leap, she was on the stage. As she had hoped, Ephialtes forgot all about the fight as soon as he saw her. The thrill of a hunt was too much to ignore and in a flash, he gave chase. As he thundered after her, a breeze whipped the wreath from his head. Before it hit the ground, someone caught it.
Artemis sailed over the stage and raced toward the exit. Turning her head briefly, she checked to be sure that Ephialtes was still behind her. He was. Otus was right behind him. Beyond them, she saw that the wreath had been tossed from student to student until it finally wound up in Athena’s hands. Heracles bent toward her and she placed it gently atop his head. A cheer went up. The fight had ended!
But Artemis wanted to get Ephialtes far from the arena. If she didn’t, he might go back and start something again. Once outside, she headed away from the sports fields. On strong, furred legs, she galloped down a trail that wound from Mount Olympus to Earth. Ephialtes followed, hot on her hooves. Boom! Boom! His footsteps pounded the earth, charging through the brush behind her.
As a stag, she could outrun any mortal or immortal. But Ephialtes was a giant. A really fast one! And Actaeon was right. Stag antlers were heavy! She could feel them weighing her down, and they kept getting snagged in the overhanging tree branches and vines. Stags had a lot to keep track of!
When Artemis reached a stream, Ephialtes slowed a bit as he splashed into it. But she was able to leap across and gain some ground. She disappeared into a forest and zigzagged back and forth through the trees until she lost him. Her hope was that he’d give up and find his way home from here. When she came to a small glade, she stood there a while, panting.
Suddenly, Otus stepped from behind a tree at the far end of the glade. “Artemis?” he called out.
As she turned her antlered head toward him and bleated out a yes, a shout came from the other end of the glade. Ephialtes! He was charging toward her. “Run!” Otus yelled, speeding in her direction as if to protect her. Just as the two brothers raced up on opposite sides of her, she transformed herself into a hawk and flew away. Unable to stop quickly enough, the twins collided. Bumping heads, they crashed to the ground. BOOM!
