by Holub, Joan
It was a paradox, Artemis realized, remembering the textscroll Apollo had been reading yesterday in the olive grove. Her brother had managed to present Python with a logic-confounding statement that was neither true nor false, and was therefore impossible to reason out! Suddenly she remembered the Magic Oracle Ball’s answer when she’d asked if there was a way for Apollo to beat Python. True and false. Now the ball’s answer made sense!
Apollo grinned at the serpent. “Looks like I’ve got you tied up in knots. Give up?”
“Who, me?” asked Python. Then, realizing it had asked its second question by accident, it heaved a wild, frustrated roar. “THEOSSS!” The sharp-hissed admission of defeat echoed throughout the gymnasium. Then the serpent unkinked itself and slithered off behind the stage curtain.
Joy welled up in Artemis and she began cheering. But the stunned audience remained dead silent for at least three seconds. They were probably still trying to figure out Apollo’s paradoxical statement! Finally, as Apollo turned to face the crowd, more cheers erupted. Raising both arms he flashed two Vs for Victory. “I did it!” he yelled as if he could hardly believe it himself.
Then his eyes searched out Artemis’s and they smiled at each other. She flashed him the V sign in return.
BOOM! Zeus went from his throne to the stage in one leap. He was that excited! Placing an olive wreath on top of Apollo’s head, he officially pronounced him the winner. “In Apollo’s honor, a fabulous temple will be built in Parnassus! And now let’s give a round of applause for all the contestants and all the champions in this year’s Olympic Games,” Principal Zeus thundered.
At this, applause and shouts shook the gym. When they eventually died down, he added, “Before you go, I have one more announcement—well, two, really—to make.” The crowd went quiet as he summoned Hera to join him on the stage. Still dressed in her beautiful blue chiton, and with peacock feathers sprouting from her lovely hair, she looked both regal and dignified as she glided up the steps and went to stand beside him.
Artemis glanced at Athena. Her lips were pressed together and she looked to be bursting with excitement. “You know what the announcements are going to be, don’t you?” Artemis whispered to her.
Athena was beaming. “I know one of them.” They both turned toward the stage just in time to hear Zeus say: “The first announcement is that Hera and I are engaged to be married!”
He paused for a minute while the girls all sighed and clapped in excitement. The boys soon joined in, cheering and whistling. “That’s the one I knew about,” Athena whispered.
“And now for the second announcement,” thundered Zeus. He glanced at Hera fondly. “Before this lovely lady would consent to marry me,” he said, “she exacted a promise that will make at least half of the students here very happy.” He paused. “Soon there will be a new competition. One for girl athletes only.”
At this, Artemis gasped. When she caught Hera’s eye, Hera actually winked at her. Her talk with Zeus had worked! All of the girls in the audience—and to be fair, most of the boys, too—broke out in more applause. Apollo’s win had put them all in a good mood.
“The new competition will be called the Heraean Games!” Zeus went on. “I came up with that—named it after Hera. Awesome idea, right?”
Artemis turned to her friends. “Hera bargained for the girls-only games for us! Isn’t she the greatest?”
“Yes, and so fashionable,” Aphrodite said, studying Hera admiringly. “I love the peacock feathers in her hair.” Artemis had a feeling Aphrodite would soon be wearing feathers as well.
Athena glanced at Artemis anxiously. “You don’t mind that Zeus changed the name of our games, do you?”
“Nuh-uh. Her-O-Lympics kind of stunk anyway,” Artemis admitted. “And Zeus could’ve changed the name to chopped liver and I still would’ve been thrilled. We got our games! Woo-hoo! Can you believe it?”
The four goddessgirls did a group hug, hopping around in excitement.
Aphrodite beamed. “I can’t wait for the wedding!”
“Do you suppose they’ll need help with the flowers?” Persephone asked.
Athena laughed. “Ye gods! They only just got engaged!”
“I want to go congratulate Apollo,” Artemis said, pulling away from the group hug as students began leaving the gymnasium.
“Don’t forget about the post-Games celebration at the Supernatural Market,” Athena reminded her.
“I won’t. See you there!” said Artemis. With a quick wave, she was off.
Naturally, lots of students were eager to congratulate her brother. A crowd already swarmed around him onstage. Artemis hung back, waiting her turn. Seeing Hera behind her, she turned and said, “Thanks for what you did for us—for all the girls at MOA.”
Hera’s eyes twinkled. “Apollo’s the one you should thank.”
“Huh?”
The confusion in her eyes must’ve been plain because Hera said, “Oh, dear. I forgot I wasn’t supposed to tell you. It’s just the excitement of the engagement, I imagine.”
“Tell me what?” asked Artemis, feeling even more confused.
Hera clasped her hands together. “After dinner last night I was in Zeus’s office showing him your petitions when Apollo walked in. He handed Zeus some new pages to add to them. I don’t know how he did it, but your brother managed to collect the signatures of every single boy in the MOA dorm.”
She smiled at Artemis’s gasp. “It’s true that I told Zeus I wouldn’t consent to marry him unless he approved the new games,” Hera went on, “but that was after he saw all the names your brother had collected. I think that’s what really changed his mind!”
Artemis’s eyes glistened. “Apollo did that for me? For the girls?”
Hera nodded. “He told Zeus he really hoped the games would be approved. Not only because they were important to you, but because it was the fair thing to do.” Hera paused. “You’re lucky to have such a loyal brother.”
“Yeah, but I wonder why didn’t he want me to know?”
An amused smile played at Hera’s lips. “If I recall correctly, his exact words were these: ‘If she finds out I tried to help her, I’ll never hear the end of it.’”
“That sounds like something my brother might say,” said Artemis, rolling her eyes.
Just then Principal Zeus came up to them. “Ready to go, my dear?” he said to Hera, offering his muscley arm. “Yes, my love,” she replied, looking radiantly happy. After saying good-bye to Artemis, she took Zeus’s arm. The two of them moved away looking like royalty, which they pretty much were.
The throng around Apollo had lessened some, so Artemis scooted closer. Up ahead, she saw Heracles clap Apollo on the back. “Congratulations, buddy,” Heracles said heartily. “You were awesome. I wish I had your smarts!”
“Aw, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Apollo said. “Python played a dirty trick on you. If it had tried that on me, I would’ve fallen for it too.”
Heracles grinned. “Think ssso?” he said imitating the Python. They both laughed.
Apollo spotted Artemis just then. Carrying on with the joke, he addressed the admirers still in line, “Thanks for your congratulationsss, everyone. Gotta sssee my sssister now.” He pushed his way over to Artemis. “Thanks, sis,” he said, smiling broadly. “I couldn’t have won without your . . .” He hesitated.
“Go on, say it! I already know,” said Artemis, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Without your help!” He groaned, smiling. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”
“Nope!” said Artemis. She was just about to thank him for the boost he’d given the girl-games by talking to Zeus, when Medusa rushed over.
“You did it!” she shouted to Artemis, actually looking halfway happy for a change. “We got a girls-only games. Yippee!” She did a little dance.
Apollo and Artemis stared at her. Seeing her smile was so unusual that they were momentarily stunned. But dancing? That was just plain weird, especia
lly for her.
Noticing their expressions, Medusa stopped in mid-jig, looking embarrassed. Flicking her snakes over one shoulder and acting cool again, she said, “At least they won’t be named the Her-O-Lympics. What a lame-o idea that was!” Then she sauntered off, back to her normal sour self.
“Who cares what it’s called!” said Artemis when she’d gone. “We got the games!” She imitated Medusa’s happy dance and they both laughed. “Want to go celebrate with everyone?” she asked.
“Yes! Because I’ve got a lot to celebrate! Woo-hoo!” Apollo punched a victorious fist in the air. In the distance, other students looked over and cheered with him.
This was his moment, Artemis decided. Later, she would tell him what happened with the giants, and that she knew about the help he’d given her. Her eyes grew misty as she thought about it. But for now she just wanted to enjoy his happiness in beating Python and her own joy in the newly minted Heraean Games.
As they exited the gym and began walking toward the Supernatural Market, Apollo talked excitedly about the temple he’d won. “I know it won’t be as grand as Zeus’s newest temple, but mine will have a really good oracle.”
“Mortals will love that,” Artemis said. “And since you’re the godboy of truth and prophesy, I bet they’ll flock to your temple so they can learn what the future holds.”
Squinting his eyes as if in deep thought, Apollo pressed two fingers against his forehead. “Yes, I can see that in my future. And I can see a temple in your future too—a humongous one.”
“Really? Or are you just being nice?”
“I can’t believe you asked me that!” he said, taking his fingers away from his head.
“Oh! Right. You can’t lie! Wow, my own temple,” Artemis mused, hardly able to believe it. Just imagine, mortals would go there to worship her. The thought would take some getting used to. Of course, she didn’t know just when it would be built. Still, maybe it wasn’t too early to start planning the decorations with her friends!
Just then they passed Actaeon, who was walking with Hades and Persephone. Actaeon waved and her heart gave a flutter as she realized he was heading for the Supernatural Market too. “Save me a seat!” he called to her.
“Okay, I will!” she called back.
“Ow, I got a rock in my sandal,” said Apollo, stopping to shake it out.
Artemis barely heard him. She was too busy imagining Actaeon sitting beside her at a table in the Market. What would they talk about? Maybe they could compare notes about their experiences as stags! He might laugh at what she’d done, but this time, it would be in a good way. And while they were drinking their shakes, maybe her hand would brush up against his . . . accidentally, of course.
She was jolted back to the present when Apollo started to walk again. As she skipped ahead a few steps to catch up, Apollo squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his head again. “Your temple will be built in Ephesus,” he continued, as if prophesying. “And it is destined to become one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.”
Artemis gave him a thumbs-up, though she was sure he was overdoing it. “Wowza! Sounds good,” she said to humor him. “But for now I’ll settle for an ambrosia shake. Your treat.”
Apollo smiled. “Race you there. Now that you’ve got your own girl-games, you’re going to need lots of practice!” He took off, but Artemis soon caught up to him. Matching him stride for stride, she flew as swift as her fastest arrow, all the way to the Market.
FROM HER SEAT HIGH AT THE BACK OF THE stone bleachers in the outdoor amphitheater at Mount Olympus Academy, Medusa stared in fascination at a full-page ad in her new Teen Scrollazine. It showed a picture of a sparkly necklace with a golden-winged white horse charm dangling from its chain. Her eyes eagerly devoured the sales pitch:
ATTENTION, MORTALS:
DO YOU DREAM OF BEING A GOD OR A GODDESS?
NOW YOU CAN BE WITH THE AMAZING NEW:
IMMORTALIZER!
JUST CLASP THE NECKLACE AROUND YOUR NECK
AND INSTANTLY ENJOY YOUR NEW POWERS!
THE PRICE? ONLY 30 DRACHMAS!
At the bottom of the page was an order form.
Becoming immortal had been her dearest wish since, well, since forever. It wasn’t fair that her two sisters were immortal while she’d been born a mere mortal.
She studied the ad again. She wanted to believe it, but did she dare trust its claims? What if it’s a trick? Can a flying-horse necklace really be the key to immortality? Medusa wondered.
“Doubt it!” she muttered aloud.
A godboy sitting nearby overheard and gave her a sideways glance. She shot him a quick glare that made him widen his eyes and nervously look away.
It was Friday, last period, and the amphitheater was filled with immortal students—all of them beautiful, powerful, and awesome, with softly glittering skin. How she longed to be like them!
Sure, she went to MOA too. She was one of the few lucky mortals allowed to attend the Academy. Yet she had no true magical powers, like those of a goddess. Still, with a glance, she could turn a mortal to stone. That was something, at least. And she was the only student with snakes growing from the top of her head instead of hair! Glancing around, she idly reached up and twirled one of the snakes around her finger.
Usually school dramas were performed here in the amphitheater, but today the entire student body had gathered on the bleachers because of Career-ology Week. (Or Job-ology Week, as the students called it.) All week long, various speakers had come to MOA to talk about their jobs. Yesterday the god Hermes had spoken about his chariot delivery service.
Today the goddess Hera was here speaking about her wedding shop in the Immortal Marketplace. The regal-looking shop-goddess had thick blond hair styled high upon her head and a no-nonsense look in her eye. Although she wasn’t unusually tall, something about her made her seem statuesque. Probably her confidence.
As Hera explained how she went about planning a wedding at Hera’s Happy Endings, Medusa was only half listening. She shifted behind some other MOA students sitting in front of her so she was better hidden from Hera’s view.
Sneakily, she reread the ad. It was maddeningly short on details about how the Immortalizer worked—if it worked at all. She’d almost be willing to risk disappointment if only it didn’t cost so much. Thirty drachmas was a lot of money! Her weekly allowance was only three oboli—half a drachma. At the moment, she only had eight drachmas saved up.
“Any questions?” Hera asked the crowd.
Medusa jolted to attention and peered around the godboy in front of her. Seeing that the talk was nearly over, she set her scrollazine on the bench. Although the bleachers were packed with students, there was an empty space on either side of her. No one ever got too close to a girl with snake hair.
