Centaur School

by Lucy Coats

  “Don’t be such a baby,” Demon said, just as Peleus came back, puffing and slopping water everywhere.

  “This stuff tastes amazing,” the prince said. “Like liquid sunlight.” It was true. The water in the bucket glowed slightly.

  “Maybe it’ll help,” said Demon hopefully. He filled a clay cup and put it to the giant’s lips. Antaeus slurped it down, dribbling it disgustingly down his front.

  “More,” he said. After sixteen more cups, he burped loudly. “Marvelous stuff,” he said. “My magic well always does the trick.” Then he clapped a hand to his forehead, where the bump had already disappeared. “The phoenix! I remember now.” He looked around. “Where’s old Chiron, then? The poor creature is in great need. It’s gotten much worse since I sent Athena that message.”

  “Athena sent me instead,” said Demon.

  Antaeus looked down at him doubtfully. “A bit small for a healer, aren’t you?”

  “Never mind my size,” said Demon crossly. “Do you want the phoenix fixed or not? Athena said it was pretty urgent.”

  “And so it is, shrimp boy,” said Antaeus. “Come on, then. Up on my shoulders, the both of you. I’ll have you there faster than Apollo can fire an arrow.”

  “Let’s take some of that magic water with us,” said Peleus. “It might come in handy.”

  “Good thinking,” said Antaeus. Demon nodded a bit sourly. That was another thing he should have thought of first.

  Once the waterskins were full, and Demon had made sure that the winged horses were happy, the giant grabbed Demon in one hand and Peleus in the other, tossing them and the bags into the air and onto his shoulders as if they were straws. The armor wasn’t very comfortable to sit on, though the feather cloak gave them a bit of padding. They had to hang on to the giant’s ears to avoid being joggled off as Antaeus ran up the side of the mountain faster than a shooting star.

  As they neared the top, he skidded to a halt outside a rather grand cave. It had crumbling pillars on either side of it that were carved with very ancient-looking pictures of flames, strange-looking birds, eggs, and suns. That wasn’t what caught Demon’s eye, though. Covering the whole entrance was a golden cascade, not of water, but of fire that lit up the night like a torch.

  “Through there!” Antaeus said as Demon and Peleus slid down to the ground, landing with two loud bumps that raised clouds of sparkling dust.

  Demon gaped at him. “How do we get through that?” he asked, pointing at the firefall. “We’ll get all burned up! Is there no other way through?”

  Antaeus shook his head.

  “How do you get in, then?” Peleus asked.

  “With this, of course,” said Antaeus, pointing to his cloak. “It’s made of phoenix feathers. They’re flameproof.” He fumbled in a pocket, pulling out a mask that was also made of feathers. “And I put this on, too.”

  “You’ll have to take us in underneath your cloak, then,” said Demon. “There’s no time to lose.”

  “There’s not a lot of room,” said Peleus. “We’ll have to go one at a time.”

  “Well, I’m going first,” said Demon, grabbing the medicine sack. “I’m not leaving that poor bird a moment longer than I have to.”

  “Brave little shrimp,” said Antaeus, throwing the cloak wide. “Crawl under!”

  “Don’t call me that,” Demon said as Antaeus settled him in the crook of one arm and pulled the cloak shut tight again. But Antaeus just laughed—a great earthquake rumble that shook Demon right down to his toes.

  Demon had never felt heat like it, not even when Hera had nearly sizzled him to a frazzle. There was a blinding flash as his feet began to frizzle, and then they were through. Antaeus let Demon down, then went back for Peleus. Demon checked to see that his toes were all still there, then looked around wonderingly. The cave walls were made of a buttery-smooth white stone that had soft lights flickering within it, changing from rose to pale green to the exact soft blue of an early-morning sky. The walls went up and up. At the top, crystal stalactites hung down like rainbow daggers, reflecting the lights from below. The floor was not white, though, but shining black, and right in the middle of it sat a gigantic ruby, its center glowing and pulsing weakly like a heart in trouble. Around it was a messy pile of sweetly scented branches, some long, some short, mixed all higgledy-piggledy with slivers of bark, dried flowers, bright fruits, and bunches of various berries. Slumped on top of the ruby was a huge bird. Demon could tell immediately that it was in trouble. Its head lolled over the edge, and its long, flowing tail feathers were dull and lifeless. Then it coughed, a horrible, weak tearing sound, which Demon immediately knew was not a good sign.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” he said, running to it. But the ruby towered over him, and jump as he might, he couldn’t get a grip to clamber up its slippery sides.

  “Hey!” said Peleus behind him. “Look at the fire devils!” He pointed to the back of the cave. In his hurry to reach the phoenix, Demon hadn’t even noticed the transparent crystal wall half hidden by the bulk of the ruby. Suddenly he felt as if a large fist had slammed into his chest. Behind the crystal were skinny red creatures, capering and shrieking gleefully. They had unnaturally long arms and legs, and sharp-clawed hands and feet. Their heads were huge, and their eyes were pits of dark flame. It was the mouths that were the worst, though. They gaped hungrily, showing rows of needle-sharp teeth, and each mouth blew out a jet of blue-white flame that skittered over the surface of their prison.

  “Oh no,” said Demon, his voice trembling. At the top of the crystal wall there was a very small crack.

  CHAPTER 9

  NEST OF ANTS

  “I’ll fight them off if they escape,” Peleus said, drawing his magic sword with a flash of silver lightning. “You help that bird.” He struck a pose and menaced the fire devils, waving his blade around threateningly. But the fire devils took no notice. They just shrieked and capered even more. Peleus beat his chest with his free hand, uttering whooping war cries. “Defy me at your peril, foul creatures,” he yelled. “You shall not pass Peleus.”

  “Poor little phoenix,” Antaeus crooned, lowering the creature tenderly and laying it on the ground at Demon’s feet. Peleus continued to shout defiantly behind them. Demon knelt down beside the phoenix, stroking it gently. It was limp all over, with its crest and tail drooping sadly, and its eyelids were stuck together with a grayish-white film of gunk. When Demon gently opened its long beak to take a look inside, he found that its throat was nearly clogged shut by a gloopy orange substance. It smelled hot and throat-chokingly bitter—like badly burnt caramel. The phoenix’s thin, pointed tongue was covered in red pustules. Demon had never seen anything like it, and if he had wished for his magical medicine box to cure the griffin, he wished for it a million times more now. What he did have, though, was Chiron’s very own precious Book of Cures. Quickly he got it out and put on his opticles.

  “E for Eyes,” he said, flicking through the pages frantically. Unfortunately the writing inside made no sense. He could read the letters, but it seemed to be set out in some sort of secret code.

  Mix Euph. x 1 grain plus Loc. Pers. x 5 meas.

  “What in Aphrodite’s underpants does that mean?” he wailed. It was worse than the stupid language the medicine box used. He’d have to do his best to find a cure for the phoenix on his own. Scrabbling in the sack again, he pulled out everything he’d brought with him, thinking hard about what he’d learned from Chiron.

  “This, this, and . . . yes . . . this,” he said, dumping a few pinches of all the things he knew might work in a wooden bowl and pounding them together. Then he added a good splash of the magic water. Taking a clean cloth, he gently bathed away the gray gunk till it was all gone. The phoenix blinked. There was still a gray film over its eyes, so Demon dripped in some more of the mixture. Slowly the gray cleared away. He could see the phoenix’s beautiful gold irises and silver pu
pils, all surrounded by a circle of bright ruby red.

  “You seem to be a healer, after all, little shrimp,” said Antaeus. “Though I’m sure most of it was my well water.”

  “I don’t care what did it, as long as it works,” Demon said, before putting together a different bunch of herbs, making up a soothing milky potion with more of the magic water. Before he could get the bird to swallow, though, he had to put two fingers in its throat and clear out the orange gloop. It was horrible and messy, and it burnt his skin, but finally it was done. He tipped in the throat mix in small drops. The red pustules disappeared almost immediately, and the phoenix began to look a bit perkier. A little color even started to return to its tail feathers, and then, all of a sudden, it hopped upright.

  “Can you sing?” Demon asked anxiously.

  It cocked its head to one side and opened its beak. A harsh croaking sound erupted from its throat.

  “That sounds more like a dying crow than a song,” said Demon, trying not to despair. “Let’s try some more medicine.” But the bird shook its head, turning away its beak. It pointed one sharp claw and started to scratch something on the floor of the cave. Unfortunately, the claw made no impression on the shiny black stone.

  “Are you trying to show me what will help?” Demon asked. The phoenix nodded.

  “Here,” said Demon, holding out a pot of the white clay he used for making ointment. “Try this.” The phoenix dipped its claw in the thick liquid and started to scratch again. Immediately, something began to take shape. Demon frowned. It couldn’t be. But it was. The phoenix had drawn a gigantic ant.

  “Is that an ant?” he asked. “How can an ant help?” He turned to Antaeus, whose brown skin had now gone a kind of ashy gray. “Do you know anything about ants?”

  “Y-yes,” said the giant, not meeting Demon’s eyes.

  “Well?” Demon said impatiently.

  “There’s a nest of giant golden fire ants right on top of this mountain. I’ve never met them, though. They keep themselves to themselves.” Antaeus jerked the words out quickly, as if he didn’t want to say them. It almost sounded like he was afraid.

  Demon turned back to the phoenix. “Do you need one of the ants to come to you?” he asked. It shook its head and dipped its claw in the pot of clay again. This time it drew a circle with a second jagged circle within it, then tapped the circle several times with its claw. It looked like a wonky dewdrop. Demon scrubbed his hands through his hair, making it stand up on end. What could it mean? Just as he was about to ask Peleus what he thought, a sharp crack sounded behind him. Demon spun around as the fire devils’ shrieking reached a new pitch.

  “Oops!” said Peleus. There was now a long, blade-shaped gash in the crystal, and a new crack had started. The fire devils were scraping at it eagerly with their claws and blowing out more jets of white-hot flame.

  “You idiot!” Antaeus and Demon roared at the same time. The phoenix let out another harsh croak and started jumping up and down with rage, lunging at Peleus with its beak.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, holding up a hand. “My bad. I slipped.”

  “Well, stop waving that thing around and come and help us figure out this picture,” said Demon. “You’re making things worse, not better.”

  As soon as he saw the picture of the ant, and the circle beside it, Peleus smiled. “Easy,” he said. “That’s a ball of ant nectar. Is that what you need, Phoenix?” The phoenix immediately stopped trying to skewer him with its beak and nodded enthusiastically. “Can you take us to the colony, Antaeus? I think I can help you get some.”

  “Is this more of your stupid boasting?” Demon asked, still angry with the prince.

  Peleus shook his head. “No. I promise.” But however much Demon pestered him, he would say no more.

  Demon didn’t want to leave the phoenix, but it shooed him out of the cave with its wings, croaking like a mad frog.

  Once they were safely through the firefall again, Antaeus was very reluctant to take them to the peak of the mountain.

  “Do you actually want us all to be burnt up by the fire devils?” Demon shouted at him.

  Antaeus hung his huge head. “No,” he said. But as they got near the peak, which was sparkling golden pink in the early light, his run changed to a trot and then to a walk that got slower and slower.

  Suddenly, up ahead, Demon spotted a mass of segmented bright red ants, feelers waving in the air. They were almost as big as the giant scorpion. They bobbed up and down, bowing to Helios’s chariot as it drove over the eastern horizon, pulling the sun behind it.

  Antaeus began to shake as he saw them. “Ugh!” he said, his whole body shuddering till his armor rattled. “Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Too many legs! It’s unnatural!” Antaeus dumped Demon and Peleus unceremoniously on the ground, fled to a nearby rock, and cowered behind it.

  Demon looked back at him, his mouth open. Now he understood. Antaeus was afraid of insects. He was about to ask Peleus what he thought they should do next when he realized the prince had disappeared from beside him.

  Peleus was up ahead, right in among the ants, whirling around in an odd kind of dance. He began to make a strange clicking sound. Then he drew his sword and started to wave it around again. The silver blade caught the sun’s rays, making a net of fiery lines in the air. Demon couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “You idiot!” he screamed at Peleus for the second time that day. “You’ll ruin everything!”

  CHAPTER 10

  THE QUEEN’S MEDICINE

  Even as the words left Demon’s mouth, the ants started to dance with Peleus, making the same strange clicking sounds back at him. Demon soon realized that they were talking to one another. Despite his gift for understanding animals, he could only understand a few of the words—and those didn’t make much sense to him. Insect language was really hard. He’d only had the giant scorpion to practice on, and it didn’t talk much. How did Peleus know ant language? How could he speak it? There was no time to ask. Peleus stood on the backs of two ants, looking like a young god and clicking even louder. He gestured toward Demon with one hand. Before Demon knew what was happening, a monstrous ant warrior was running toward him on its spindly legs. Its pincer jaws seized him around the shoulders and dragged him to the huge mound of its nest.

  “Help!” Demon cried out, trying to kick it. “Let me go! Help! Peleus! What’s going on? Antaeus! Save me!” But Peleus had disappeared into the round nest entrance, and Antaeus was still hiding behind his rock. As the ant jaws dug into the tops of his shoulders like knives, Demon didn’t dare say any more, afraid they would nip his dangling arms right off. Where was Peleus now? How could he have betrayed Demon like this? And why? Was this all some mysterious plot to make him into ant food? A hot, angry tear ran down Demon’s cheek. He’d really thought Peleus was a friend.

  Deeper and deeper into the nest they ran, Demon’s poor toes dragging and bumping along the floor. The network of strangely beautiful tunnels twisted and turned, so that Demon was soon lost and giddy. All he knew was that they were going downward, and that the heat was getting unbearable, as was the dry, acid smell of insect. Sweat dripped down his face, getting into his eyes, burning and stinging. The endless clicking of ant talk echoed through the nest.

  “Please, Dad, please, great Pan, help me to understand,” he whispered. Maybe if he knew what the ants were saying, he could talk to them. He could explain that this was all a big mistake and tell them that all he wanted was some ant medicine for the poor phoenix. So it could sing its song. Wouldn’t they all get burnt up, too, if the fire devils escaped? Surely they’d care about that.

  A breeze touched him, cool and green, smelling of forests and deep, still pools. Touch my pipes! said a low, moss-velvet voice inside Demon’s head.

  “Dad?” he gasped, trying to crane his head around. But Pan wasn’t there. Cautiously, and with great difficulty, Dem
on managed to get his little finger inside his tunic, to where Pan’s silver pipes were stowed. The effect was immediate. As soon as he touched them, he heard a loud, chittering chant.

  “Hail to Peleus! Hail to the Prince of the Myrmidons!”

  “What in the name of Aphrodite’s nightie are Myrmidons?” Demon asked. His captor ran into a big open chamber crammed full of a seething swarm of insects, and dropped him, sprawling, between the front legs of a massive queen ant. She was twice the size of her subjects, and her segmented red body glittered with golden specks. Before he could get to his feet, Demon felt a hand at the back of his damp and sweaty tunic, pulling him up and dusting him off. It was Peleus.

  “You!” Demon hissed, his face turning a scarlet so furious that he thought he might burst into flames. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Helping you get what you need,” said Peleus cheerfully. “Now shh!” Then he bowed low to the gigantic ant before Demon could say that he didn’t want to shh one little bit.

  “Your Majesty,” Peleus said, in the clicking ant tongue. “I bring you greetings from your human ant cousins, the Myrmidons, and from my father, their king. May your feelers ever prosper and your children number millions.” Demon’s mouth fell open. Peleus’s father was the king of the human ants? He’d never mentioned that before. Well, that explained a few things!

  “Greetings, Prince of Ants,” said the queen. “And who is this small human you bring before me?” She bent forward, stroking her feelers over Demon’s body till he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. It felt very tickly. “Is he a gift? Is he my breakfast?” As soon as Demon heard her say that, the urge to laugh left him very quickly, replaced by a cold wash of fear. He clenched his fists to stop them from trembling.

  “This is Pandemonius, son of the great Pan. He is my friend and companion on a quest set by wise Athena,” said Peleus hurriedly. “We need your help to save the phoenix and stop the fire devils from escaping into the world.”