by Holub, Joan
Medusa sat up straight, determined to keep a stiff upper lip. But the thought of being kicked out of MOA was too overwhelming, and suddenly her defenses crumbled. To her horror the tears she’d been struggling to hold back rolled down her cheeks. “I licensed my image because I needed money,” she blurted. “To buy a wedding gift for you and Hera, and also for—”
“Now, now, stop your blubbering,” he begged. If someone else had been doing the crying instead of her, it would’ve cracked her up to watch him acting this way. Zeus—who was seven feet tall and the biggest, baddest ruler in Olympus—couldn’t handle one sobbing student?
But she couldn’t stop crying. It was like a dam had burst behind her eyeballs, unleashing a flood of tears. “I didn’t know my image would be used on a shield and customers would be told it would turn their enemies to stone,” she went on between sobs. “I only thought Mr. Dolos would put my face on a wheel of Gorgonzola cheese or something. Honest. I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong.”
“Mr. Dolos?” Zeus echoed in surprise. His eyes narrowed.
Medusa swiped at her tears with the back of her hand. “You’ve heard of him?”
With a big sigh Zeus ran his fingers through his wild red hair, making it stand up straight like it had been electrified. “Yeah, that guy is a sleaze. He’s so wily he could even trick an immortal into buying a fake thunderbolt!” He sent her an embarrassed glance. “Um . . . at least that’s what I’ve heard.”
Medusa held her breath, allowing herself to hope that he wasn’t going to kick her out of MOA after all. So far he hadn’t mentioned shoplifting. “Um, are you still mad at me?” she asked finally.
“Mad? I guess not. The shield was just the final straw.” He frowned, then spoke as if to himself. “Problem’s really all this wedding business. Party planning is not my thing.”
“Maybe you need a vacation. A little time to cool off,” Medusa dared to suggest. She could hardly believe she was giving advice to the King of the Gods! But then, the Gray Ladies handed out advice all the time, and they were certainly not whizzes at it, if you asked her.
The principal shook his head. “No can do. Hera needs me. I promised to go to her store this afternoon to pick up balloons and ribbons and stuff for the wedding on Sunday.” He shivered, as if the idea of getting involved with decorations was a fate worse than death.
“Why don’t you ask Athena to go with you?” Medusa suggested. “I bet she’d love to help with the decorating.”
“Theeny?” Zeus rubbed his beard, looking thoughtful. “You know, it’s been far too long since I’ve spent much time with my brainy girl. Maybe I’ll take her with me to Hera’s store. What a great idea! Glad I thought of it.” Jumping up, Zeus yelled, “Cancel my appointments, Ms. Hydra! I’m off to see my favorite daughter of all time!”
Ms. Hydra’s happiest head—the sunny yellow one—poked around the door frame. “Certainly, sir,” she replied cheerfully. Then the head withdrew to snap back into place among her other eight heads.
Wow! Athena is going to be thrilled, thought Medusa as Principal Zeus headed out of the office. And since he thought it was all his idea, Athena would never know that she had actually suggested it. But, of course, she hadn’t meant to do anything nice for Athena. Not really. The idea had just popped into her head. Like magic. Obviously it was more evidence that the Immortalizer was working!
Medusa rose from her chair to go. But then, seeing that Ms. Hydra wasn’t paying any attention to her, she changed her mind. Tiptoeing over to Zeus’s throne, she sat in it just for fun. Kicking back, she crossed her feet on the desktop. Then she studied the office in detail, trying to memorize it so she could draw it in her next Queen of Mean comic-scroll episode. Noticing a stack of wedding scrollazines on Zeus’s desk that Hera must’ve left, she picked up an issue of Goddess Bride Guide and stared dreamily at the bride and bridesmaids on its cover.
“I hope you guys don’t mind wearing orange roses,” she murmured to her snakes. “Because I think this necklace I bought is starting to work. Which means I’m going to win that swimming contest tomorrow. Which means I’m going to be a bridesmaid. And that means we’re going to march down the aisle with Poseidon!”
She sighed happily.
10
The Contest
THE NEXT MORNING MEDUSA PUT ON HER swimsuit and hurried to the underground pool in the grotto below the MOA gymnasium. Poseidon’s contest was about to begin!
The rows of stone seats on one side of the pool were already full of students who’d come to watch. Most of the godboys were there, but she didn’t see Dionysus. Athena, Aphrodite, Artemis, and Persephone were in the stands, though, and Athena smiled and waved in her direction. Medusa ignored her, figuring she was waving at someone else—a real friend.
As she did stretches to warm up for her swim, Medusa sized up the competition. About half the girls were mortals and half were immortals. Some were the daughters of wedding guests, and the rest were MOA students. Including Pandora. Huh? Was that girl crazy? She couldn’t even swim without floaties. At least she’d had the sense to wear some on her arms. They would slow her down, though. She was dreaming if she thought she had any chance of winning.
Only one girl was going to win the honor of being Poseidon’s bridesmaid in Zeus’s wedding. And her name started with M, As in Marvelous, Magnificent, Me! thought Medusa, her spirits rising.
She touched the Pegasus charm at her throat, making sure her Immortalizer necklace was still in place. Doing arm circles to loosen her muscles, she let her gaze casually drift over to her supercrush.
Trident in hand, Poseidon was busy using his magic to redesign the racecourse. For today’s competition he’d shaped the pool into an enormous octagon filled with sparkling turquoise water. To make the contest harder, he’d added obstacles, including dolphin statues that actually leaped and frolicked, sea horse fountains spouting water, and a big blue rock island in the center of the pool.
The swimmers were supposed to circle the rock island to a finish line, which was made of twisted strands of pearls and semiprecious aquamarine jewels. By her estimation it wouldn’t take more than five minutes for her to reach it. Then the race would be over!
Hearing childish giggles, Medusa looked upward to the bridge Poseidon had created to span the pool. It arched over the rock island, and its sides were tiled with bits of shells that formed a mosaic of scenes from Poseidon’s realm—the sea. There were mosaic coral reefs, brightly colored fish, and sea beasts that looked so real they almost seemed to move.
Some of the kindergarten buddies were sitting or standing atop the bridge to watch the race, including Cetus, Andromeda, and Perseus, as well as some older kids. Medusa waved to Andromeda, and she waved back.
“Swimmers!” Poseidon called out, drawing her attention. “On your marks.”
Medusa quickly traded her stoneglasses for stonegoggles, which were swim goggles that would keep her from turning any mortals to stone while in the water. Then she went to stand poolside, shoulder to shoulder with the other racers. Her snakes wove themselves tight, forming a sort of swimming cap on her head.
As she gazed at Poseidon’s handsome profile, a sigh escaped her. Couldn’t he see they were perfect for one another? She was an amazing swimmer; he was god of the sea. Most seas had serpents in them, which were pretty much like giant snakes. And she had snake hair. Duh. They had so much in common, it wasn’t even funny!
“Get set!” Poseidon called out. All the swimmers crouched forward.
If she believed in the necklace’s magic—had a little more trust that it would work—would that help? It couldn’t hurt. Medusa grabbed the charm on her necklace in one fist. Squinching her eyes shut, she said a magic wish spell under her breath. “Let me win. Let me win.” It wasn’t a rhyme, but she didn’t have time to think of one!
“Go!” shouted Poseidon, raising his trident high.
SPLASH! The competitors dove in.
Medusa used strong, steady strokes and was
soon in the lead. This will be over in no time! she thought gleefully. But as she circled the rock island, she noticed that the finish line kept moving farther away. Poseidon was adjusting it backward from time to time to make the race last longer. At least he could have warned them he was going to do that! Around and around they all swam. When her head popped out of the water on a breathing stroke, she saw Pandora sitting poolside. She’d bailed out of the race already. So had some others. Yay!
Eventually the finish line stopped moving away. It was only thirty yards ahead now. Determined, Medusa put on a burst of speed, widening her lead. Victory was almost hers.
Distantly she heard Andromeda shout, “Save me!” Figuring it was just another game of Princess Rescue, Medusa kept swimming. But on her next stroke she noticed something moving on the rock island below the bridge in the center of the pool. Andromeda? How had she gotten down there?
“Help! Help!” the little girl screamed. She must’ve fallen. Or maybe she’d been pushed! Though Medusa continued to swim, each time she lifted her head to breathe, she peeked over her shoulder.
Splash! Splash! Splash! Cetus and some of the other sea serpents and sea nymphs dove into the pool. They all sprouted fishtails the minute they hit the water and were now swimming around the rock island like sharks.
“Take back what you said the other day!” Cetus was shouting at Andromeda.
“Yeah. No way you’re prettier than us,” called the nymphs. Flipping their tails, they splashed Andromeda with a high wave, drenching her. “Everyone knows that sea creatures are the most beautiful of all!”
Medusa faltered in her stroke, and the other swimmers gained on her. Why wasn’t anyone stopping this? she wondered. But all the swimmers left in the race had already passed the rock and were now on their final lap. And the crowd was busy cheering on their favorite swimmers. No one else seemed to have noticed what was going on. Or maybe they thought the kids were just playing.
She looked ahead to the finish line, agonizing about what to do. Keep swimming, or go back to perform a real princess rescue? Then, with a sigh that came out as more of a gurgle since she was in the water, she turned and swam toward the rock island. The other swimmers raced past, going the opposite direction toward the finish line.
“You’re not a pretty princess,” one of the teenage sea serpents was taunting Andromeda. “You’re a scaredy-cat!”
“No! She’s pretty, all right. Pretty afraid of the water,” another yelled. They all laughed, whipping their tails to splash her.
“Stop it, you meanies! I can’t swim!” Hugging the big rock, Andromeda stubbornly refused to take back her words, or maybe she was just too scared to think straight.
Just then little Perseus made a brave attempt to rescue her from the bullies. Climbing from the bridge onto the rock, he made his way down to stand in front of Andromeda protectively. Showing the serpents his Medusa shield, he said, “Back off or turn to stone, foes!”
“Ha-ha! Those shields don’t work!” called one of the older nymphs. “They’re fake. Just like Andromeda is a fake princess!”
“I’m a real princess!” Andromeda insisted, crying now.
Medusa zoomed through the water faster and faster. She was not going to let the little girl be taunted one minute longer! She dove deep and then came up right in the middle of the sea bullies. Staring them down, she announced, “The shields may not work, but my real gaze works just fine. In three seconds I’m going to whip off these goggles. And that means you’d better scram if you don’t want to be stone-ified. One . . . two . . .”
Instantly the sea creatures turned tail and fled.
Medusa reached for Andromeda and Perseus. “Come on, you two. I’ll swim you over to the side.” It turned out that Perseus could swim on his own, but it took her a few minutes to coax Andromeda into the water. Looping an arm around her, Medusa did a one-armed sidestroke, taking her to the edge of the pool.
By now the race was over. The audience had finally noticed what had happened on the rock, and some had gathered to help them climb out.
A staff artist for the Greekly Weekly News appeared with a scroll in hand. Staring at her and Andromeda, he began busily sketching with his quill pen. Why was he drawing a picture of them? Medusa wondered. Wasn’t he supposed to be sketching a likeness of the race’s winner?
Then she realized that his job was probably to cover anything related to tomorrow’s wedding, which included bridesmaids. And of course Andromeda would be one of those. But she wouldn’t. Because in helping her kindergarten buddy, Medusa had lost the race.
Someone handed her stoneglasses to her, and she swapped them for the stonegoggles she was wearing. She didn’t know who’d won the race, and she didn’t care. Neither did the crowd, it seemed. Most everyone had gathered around her, Andromeda, and Perseus. Spotting Poseidon standing nearby, Medusa pushed through the crowd toward him. He was holding a crown of pretty white sea asters meant for the winner of his contest.
“Why weren’t you watching out for those little kids?” she demanded in a voice that echoed around the grotto. The crowd hushed to listen in, but she didn’t even notice. “They could have drowned, you know! How could you be so careless?”
“You’re right, you’re right. Sorry about that,” Poseidon said. Glancing around at everyone watching, he smiled and waved. He didn’t seem to be taking this at all seriously! “Hey,” he added, winking at the onlookers, “no harm done, right? And wasn’t Medusa amazing out there? A real hero! Let’s give her a hand. Woo-hoo!”
Sliding the sea aster crown over his arm like an oversize bracelet so both hands were free, he began clapping for her. His enthusiasm was so great that everyone else joined in. The applause was nice, but she wasn’t anywhere near ready to forgive him.
There was a sea nymph standing nearby who didn’t look too thrilled either. The race winner, Medusa guessed. The girl was dripping wet with a towel over her shoulders, and she was gazing at Poseidon as if willing him to notice her. Medusa knew exactly how it felt to yearn for his attention. She’d been doing it for years.
“Aren’t you going to announce the name of your bridesmaid?” Medusa asked, gesturing toward the nymph.
“Oh, sure, in a sec,” Poseidon said, shrugging. He leaned closer. “But first I wanted to say that, between you and me, I really wish you’d won. You were in the lead most of the race. You deserved it,” he said in an admiring voice too soft to reach the crowd. But it was loud enough for the nymph to overhear. An embarrassed expression flickered across her face.
Medusa cringed. Poseidon was being incredibly rude! He didn’t seem to care about the nymph’s feelings one bit.
“You know, I don’t have to stick around with my bridesmaid after the ceremony tomorrow,” he went on. “Want to save me a dance? And maybe hang out?”
Gazing into Poseidon’s gorgeous turquoise eyes, Medusa wondered why she wasn’t jumping for joy. This was what she wanted, right? His attention focused on her? He was acting like he liked her. Why didn’t it feel as good as she’d expected? Maybe it was because of that sea nymph hovering behind him, looking uncertain and hurt. Hadn’t she felt that same way herself too many times to count?
Someone handed her a fresh towel, and she began drying off her snakes. Poseidon’s gaze rose to the top of her head, and his nose scrunched up like he’d just smelled something barfy. “Just one thing,” he murmured, flashing his patented cute-guy smile. “Could you maybe wear a hat tomorrow, or a veil? To, you know, hide your hair?”
Anger rose in Medusa, swift and hot. Maybe her sisters could get away with saying stuff like that to her because they were, well, her sisters. But where did he get off? She stared at him, feeling like she was seeing the real him for the first time. Her snakes froze, waiting to see what she’d do—whether she’d stick up for them or not. Well, nobody insulted her snakes and got away with it!
She stepped right up to Poseidon and jabbed a fingertip into his chest. “You know what you are?” she said. “An ophidiop
hobiac!”
“Huh? I am not,” he said, sounding flustered. It was obvious he had no idea what an ophidiophobiac was.
“It means that even though you rule the mighty serpents of the sea, you’re scared of my little snakes!” said Medusa.
“Am not!” he protested.
“Are too. You even admitted it to me once,” said a girl’s voice. Medusa glanced over and saw that it was Athena who’d spoken. She and her friends were standing nearby, comforting Andromeda. It looked like everyone had been listening to their argument.
“Well, who isn’t icked out by your snakes?” Poseidon defended himself. “Ask any godboy if he’d like to hang out with a girl with wiggling, hissing hair! I don’t think so!”
For the first time Medusa realized how shallow Poseidon was. Had he always been this way? she wondered. Why hadn’t she ever noticed before? Maybe she’d been blinded by that amazing smile he’d given her when she’d first come to MOA. But she supposed someone could be friendly and still be shallow.
“All I’m asking is that you keep your hair under wraps for the wedding. No big deal, right? So, c’mon, what do you think?” Poseidon asked. Though he moved closer to her, he seemed to be staring at someone behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw the artist from the Greekly Weekly News who’d been drawing her picture earlier. He was still drawing. And Poseidon was trying to get into the picture too!
“I’ll tell you what I think,” she told Poseidon. She paused to slip on her sandals, and then glared at him, giving her towel a sharp tug as she tied it around her waist. “I think you are self-centered beyond belief. And you know what else I think? I think you should take that trident of yours and stick it up your nose, fishboy!”
Whirling around, she stalked out of the gym, past the sports fields, through the courtyard, and into the Academy, leaving a trail of water droplets in her path. Poseidon had crushed her supercrush with his lack of consideration for her snakes, Andromeda, and even the sea nymph who’d won his contest. Now she was going to do a different kind of crushing.
