by Lucy Coats
Sophie’s eyes started to spin the other way, and she hiccuped out a very small heart.
Flap.
All at once Demon remembered something Hephaestus had said. “Have you been anywhere near Eros?” he asked. “Did you swallow something with a love potion in it?”
Flap.
“Right,” said Demon. “That’s it! I’ve seen a love-potion antidote somewhere. Chiron had to make one up the other day for some poor girl who’d fallen in love with a tree.”
Peleus laughed. “A tree? Are you serious?”
“Deadly serious,” said Demon, searching along the shelves. “She made little garlands for its branches and everything. Said she wanted to marry it. That was one of Eros’s potions, too. He said it was a joke.” He closed his lips tightly in case he’d said something he shouldn’t. Even if Eros was a god, he shouldn’t play tricks like that. It wasn’t very kind.
“Is this it?” asked Endeis, holding up a clear bottle of bright-blue potion.
“Yes!” said Demon. “Quick! Pass it here!”
It took five drops of potion for Sophie’s eyes to go back to normal and for the pink hearts to stop. She was just explaining how she’d eaten some tasty sugar mice she’d found in Eros’s room, when Athena arrived. Her eyes were wild, and her silver helmet was all askew. Sophie flew straight to her shoulder, but the goddess was so distracted that she didn’t even seem to notice that her owl was cured.
“Where’s Chiron?” she asked Demon. “I need him. Immediately.”
“I’m afraid he doesn’t seem to be here, Your Wiseness.”
“Well, go and fetch him at once. Run, boy! Run! It’s an emergency!” Demon looked around at Peleus and Endeis frantically. He had no idea where his teacher had gone, nor any clue where to look.
“It’s no use for Pandemonius to run anywhere,” Endeis said. “My father’s gone off to tend Asclepius’s baby. There were complications with the birth. He left a message with me. He won’t be back for at least a week, and he’s not to be disturbed.”
Athena stamped her foot. A small crack appeared in the mountainside, and the ground shook.
Endeis took a step forward. “Mind my mountain,” she said crossly. “You’ll break it.”
Athena turned on her and roared. Silver sparks shot out of her eyes, skittering across the ground, where they fell, making the grass curl and shrivel. “Wretched nymph,” she shouted. “Your stupid father is NEVER where he’s supposed to be. Who’s going to cure that wretched phoenix now?”
Her sparking eyes fell on Demon. “You! Pandemonius! You’ll have to do it.”
“M-m-me?”
“Yes, you! The beastly bird has gone blind and lost its voice just when it needs to build its nest. I just got a fire message from Antaeus, who I’ve told to guard the beast.” She stamped her foot again, and a jagged trench opened up at Demon’s feet. “Why now?” the goddess yelled, flinging her helmet on the ground and stamping on it. “Just when Zeus has commanded me to help some wretched hero son of his kill a Gorgon.” Her eyes fell on Demon again and she flapped a hand at him, emitting a shower of stinging silver darts. “Go!” she said. “Why are you still here?”
“I-I don’t know where to go, Your Knowledgeableness,” he said, feeling his stomach drop into his toes as he dodged the darts rather unsuccessfully. They pierced his skin, burning like the stings of a thousand wasps. Was this it? Was he finally going to be turned into cinders?
Athena tutted impatiently. “Do you know nothing? The phoenix lives in a cave at the top of the Mountains of Burning Sand, right in the middle of a desert. The Iris Express knows where.” She glared at him. “If it isn’t able to sing its Song of Renewal at the right moment, then the fire devils it guards will escape and steal all its power. Do you know what that means, stable boy?”
Demon shook his head, picking darts out of his ears.
“You like birds and beasts, don’t you, Pandemonius?”
He nodded as Athena bent toward him.
“If the fire devils are let loose on the world, they will burn up the nearby forest where millions of the most wonderful creatures on earth live. Every death will give the fire devils more power—and then they will turn on US!”
She hissed like a striking snake and lifted him up by the front of his tunic till their noses were nearly touching. “If you don’t cure that bird so that it can sing its Song of Renewal, you will be responsible for the deaths of all those beasts—and maybe even the safety of Olympus itself!” Her voice dropped to a low growl. “Don’t fail me, Pandemonius. Or I will ask Father Zeus to take care of you personally. And I don’t mean with ambrosia and honey cakes.”
With that, the goddess shot up into the air, faster than a streak of silver lightning, and disappeared, leaving a wavering hoot of farewell from Sophie lingering in the air.
“Oh no!” Demon whispered, sinking to his knees as he picked slivers of silver out of his shoulder and chest. It was his most impossible task yet.
CHAPTER 7
HORRIBLE HERACLES STRIKES AGAIN
“No time for that,” said Endeis, hauling him to his feet. “Pack what you need while I call the Iris Express for you.”
As he rushed into the cave, Demon’s thoughts whirled madly, like snowflakes in a blizzard. What would he need? “Eyebright and chamomile for blindness, slippery elm and marshmallow for sore throats, aloe for burns,” he panted, throwing bandages, bowls, cloths, and everything else he could think of into one of Chiron’s herb-gathering sacks.
“And this,” said Peleus, holding out Chiron’s own personal Book of Cures. The one that was chained to the wall.
“I can’t take that,” said Demon. “Chiron said it must never leave the cave.”
“Well, he’s not here. And it’s an emergency,” said Peleus, unhooking it. So Demon stowed it in the sack, along with his opticles. Was that everything he needed?
“Oh no!” he groaned. “My pyro-protection suit! It’s back on Olympus. I’ll have to go and get it. I’ll get burnt up by those fire devils otherwise.” He rushed outside, only to see the Iris Express disappearing into the sky.
“Nooo! Iris,” he called, “come back! Please! I need you!” But there was no answer, only the splatting sound of a pile of liquid winged-horse poo falling at his feet.
“She’s gone on strike,” Endeis said. “Said she’s never carrying you again till you apologize at least three times on your bended knees and scrub her inside out twenty times till she’s shiny again. One of those winged horses had another poo accident before they landed, apparently. Rather a runny one, as you can see.”
Demon’s whole body felt hollow, as if his skin was going to collapse. Prickles of cold ran all over him. There was no chance of getting his pyro-protection suit—or anything else from Olympus—now. “What am I going to do?” he whispered. “However am I going to get to the Mountains of Burning Sand? The phoenix won’t be able to sing, the fire devils will escape, and all those wonderful creatures will be burnt up.” He gulped. “And what if they burn up the gods and goddesses, too? What will happen to us all?” He didn’t even want to think about that—or about Zeus himself coming after him. He wouldn’t even be a pile of charcoal if that happened. He’d be nothing at all.
“Mountains of Burning Sahahahand?” neighed Keith, flying over the jagged trench that now cut off access to the cave. “Thahahat’s near our earthly home.”
Demon turned to him eagerly. “Do you know the way there, Keith? Could you take me?”
The little boss winged horse swished his black tail. “Maybe,” he whinnied. “If I get a LOT of itchy-scratches.”
“I’ll give you as many itchy-scratches as you want,” Demon said, flinging his arms around Keith’s neck. “How far is it? Can we get there quickly?”
Keith shook his head, his mane flying into Demon’s eyes. “It’s a long wayheyhey,” he snorted. Demo
n groaned. How could he leave his beasts again—and what about the griffin? Would it really stay asleep until Demon got back? As usual, he didn’t have a choice. Curing the phoenix was more important than anything—but he was still worried.
“Who’s going to look after the Stables?” he said. “If they begin to smell of poo again, I’ll have the goddesses after me as well as Zeus.”
“I’ll do it,” said Endeis. “I can visit my nymph and dryad friends at the same time. I haven’t seen Althea for ages. I’ve been too busy being queen and taking care of things back at the palace on Aegina.” She frowned. “It’ll do them all good to be without me for a while.”
“I’ve decided I’m coming with you to the Mountains of Burning Sand,” said Peleus. “You might need a friend to guard your back. Those fire devils sound dangerous. Anyway, it’ll be an adventure.” He grinned, winking at Demon with one bright green eye.
Demon looked at Peleus doubtfully. He was quite tall. “I’m not sure you’ll fit on a winged horse,” he said.
“I’ll carry him,” said Sky Pearl, trotting forward. “I’m strong.”
Quickly Demon and Peleus loaded up the medicine sack and another bag full of food and waterskins. They also found some ropes, which they tied around themselves and the little horses.
“Just in case we fall asleep or need to haul each other up the mountain,” Peleus said as he slung his sword across his back and climbed onto Sky Pearl. He did look a bit funny, with his long legs dangling nearly to the ground, but Demon didn’t feel much like laughing. He had a blind, voiceless phoenix to cure—and he hadn’t a clue how to do it.
They flew and flew until the bones in their bottoms ached from sitting, over land, over sea, and then over land again. As Helios and his chariot rolled through the sky above them, Demon waved to his friend Abraxas and the other celestial horses. Soon it was night. The stars shone cold and distant, like diamonds on deep blue velvet. Demon tried to count them to pass the time, but all too quickly he felt his eyelids drooping.
“Ooh,” he said, wriggling to get comfortable. “However am I going to keep awake?” He clutched at Keith’s mane, winding it around and around his wrists.
“Ouchy!” Keith whinnied. “Don’t hold on so hard! And stop wiggling around!”
“Lucky we tied ourselves on!” Peleus called over. “I’m sleepy, too.”
“Tell us about the Mountains of Burning Sand, Keith,” said Demon. “And about whatsisname? Antaeus? Maybe that’ll keep us from falling asleep.”
“Antaeus is a giant,” Keith whinnied. “Big as a mountain. We don’t go near him. He has a nasty club. He likes to fight.”
Naturally, Athena hadn’t bothered to say anything about a giant, Demon thought. That was so typical of the gods—they never thought you needed to know things like that.
“That sounds scary,” he said, shivering. He’d never met a giant—and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“Is scary,” neighed Sky Pearl. “Smells bad, too. Like rotten blood.”
“I knew you’d need me, Demon,” said Peleus cheerfully. “I’ll fight him. I’ve fought LOTS of people with my magic sword. I never, ever lose. Well, almost never,” he added.
“But he’s a GIANT!” Demon said.
“So?” said Peleus boastfully. “My sword is sharp, and I fear nothing and nobody.” Demon thought about how nervous Peleus had looked around the wolves, but wisely chose not to mention it.
As they flew into the dawn of another day, Demon began to smell a spicy green scent wafting up from below. As Eos’s pink light started to fill the east, he saw a vast expanse of forest below them.
“Is that the place Athena talked about?” he asked. “The one with all the amazing creatures in it?”
“Yes,” Keith neighed. “Look! There’s a herd of tall-necks! See? In the glade.”
Demon peered down. The most extraordinary animals he’d ever seen were grazing the treetops. They had long necks that allowed them to reach the topmost branches, and tiny snail-shaped horns. They were spotty and dappled, like shade, and their backs sloped downward, so their legs were shorter at the back than at the front. Demon longed to ask Keith to land. He desperately wanted to talk to them, but he knew he mustn’t. Instead he must save the phoenix so that these marvelous creatures weren’t all burnt up.
“How far to go?” he asked, wishing that Keith’s poor little wings could flap even faster.
“Still far,” Keith whinnied. “But you can see the mountains now—and the desert.” In the distance, golden peaks caught the first rays from Helios, turning them to a blaze of red flame. As they flew through the day, the mountains grew bigger and bigger until they made everything around them seem dwarflike.
As dusk fell, Demon could see a tiny figure leaping and running across the sand, toward the forest. “I wonder who that is,” he said.
“Going down!” Sky Pearl and Keith called as they dipped their wings, gliding toward a flat piece of land outside a cave in the rocks. It was covered in a carpet of tiny golden flowers that gave off a scent like honey. A stone well with a bucket beside it stood nearby.
“Sand flowers!” Sky Pearl whinnied, burying her nose in the fragrant blossoms. “Yummy-scrum!”
Keith skidded to a halt beside her, his wings drooping. “Itchy-scratch?” he asked hopefully as Demon untied himself and clambered off, legs as limp as jellied sand snakes. Demon gave the boss horse’s ears a good scratching as Keith, too, buried his nose in the flowers and started munching.
“Hey!” Peleus shouted from the direction of the cave. “Come over here! I don’t think I’m going to have to fight the giant, after all—someone’s already done it!”
Demon grabbed his healing sack and stumbled over to the dark entrance. Sticking out of it were two thick, hairy legs, with rusty iron shin guards buckled around them. As Demon clambered past, he saw Peleus squatting beside the giant’s enormous head. Antaeus was almost as broad as he was tall, with more iron armor strapped to his arms and chest. The vast, sausage-like fingers on his left hand lay limp around a huge spiked club. Over his shoulders hung a hooded cloak of shimmering feathers that shone and shifted like fire and lit up the rest of the cave. Demon’s breath caught in his throat as the blank, black eyes of a thousand skulls looked down at him. At least they weren’t alive like the ones he’d met in Hades’s Underworld kingdom.
“Is he breathing?” he asked anxiously. There was no time to be scared.
“I think so,” said Peleus. “Someone’s given him a big whack on the head, though. Look!” Lifting the giant’s short, red hair, he pointed to a big purple lump on his already knobby forehead.
Demon shook the gigantic shoulder. “Antaeus! Antaeus! Wake up!”
CHAPTER 8
FIREFALL
“NYAARRGHH!” shouted the giant in a great rumbling voice. He sat up so suddenly that he knocked Peleus head over heels. “Wassermatter?” The giant looked around wildly. “Where is he? Where’s that Heracles? Let me at him!” Then, quite suddenly, his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped again, quite unconscious. Demon jumped up, fists clenched. An angry ball of rage flared up inside his belly as he glared around the cave. Horrible Heracles? Was he still here? He eyed Antaeus’s club. Would he be strong enough to lift it? He owed Heracles a few good whacks for being so nasty to the poor beasts in the Stables. And now he’d knocked out the very person Demon needed most! Then Demon remembered the tiny running figure he’d seen as they’d flown over the desert.
“Drat!” he said. It was no use. The beast-bashing hero would be far away by now. “I’ll get you one day, horrible Heracles,” he muttered.
Sighing, he shook the giant’s armor-clad shoulder again, but there was no response.
“Burning feathers,” he muttered. “That’s what I need.” Quickly, he pulled a handful of the shining plumes out of Antaeus’s cloak and lit them at the tiny covered fire
that burned in the cave. Immediately, there was a smell of singed cinnamon and spice mixed with something that caught at the back of his throat and made him cough. He blew out the flame and waved the smoking feathers under Antaeus’s nose.
“Gaarrgh!” the giant exclaimed, sitting up again. “What is that disgusting smell?” He fanned one of his enormous hands in front of his face. Then he howled, clutching at chest. “Ow! My ribs!”
“Are you properly awake now?” Demon asked. “Athena got your message. She’s sent me to heal the phoenix. Can you take us to it?”
“Phoenix?” Antaeus asked, rubbing his head in a confused way. “What phoenix? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked around. “Where’s that pesky Heracles gone? I need his skull for my collection!” He blinked sleepily. “And who are you two, my little shrimps? You’re not big enough or ugly enough to be heroes.”
“I’m Peleus, he’s Demon, and never mind about Heracles,” Peleus said impatiently. “The phoenix is what’s important now. You know . . . the one you’re supposed to be guarding? The one that’s gone blind and has no voice?”
“Still not with you,” said the giant, picking his nose and inspecting the slimy green result before popping it into his mouth.
“It’s that bump. He’s had all the sense knocked out of him by Heracles,” said Demon, pulling ointment and bandages out of his sack. “Quick! Go and get him some water from the well. That might help his memory.”
“You get it,” said Peleus sulkily. “I’m a prince, not your servant.” Then he saw the fierce look in Demon’s eyes. “Oh, all right,” he grumbled. “I’ll give the winged horses some first, though. They must be thirsty.”
Demon immediately felt bad. He should have thought of that. Quickly, he smeared bruise-flower ointment on the bump and rolled bandages around Antaeus’s ribs under the armor. It was really hard because the giant groaned and wriggled around. He was being much more difficult than any of Demon’s beast patients.
