by Alane Adams
I frowned. “Father? Wait—are you a son of Ares?”
He bowed. “I am Deimos, son of Ares, and this”—he waved a hand, and another figure stepped from behind a tree—“is my brother, Phobos.”
They were like identical supermodels, handsome with sculpted high cheekbones and sleekly combed hair. The only difference was Deimos’s eyes were green like chipped emeralds, and Phobos’s were a glacier blue. A pair of black pegasuses stamped their feet behind them. Each had a white diamond on their forehead; they were exactly like the ones that had driven Carl away in Ares’s carriage.
“Not nice to meet you,” I said, hating them on sight.
Damian tugged on my arm. “Careful. Phobos is the god of fear, and Deimos is the god of panic.”
Panic and fear—they had gods for that?
Ignoring the warning, I said, “We’re on our way to Thebes, and you’re kind of in our way. So if there’s nothing else …?”
“Just one thing,” Phobos said. “Father is curious what the oracle said that made you destroy her temple?”
I flushed guiltily. “Nothing much. It went something like I should tell Ares to stuff it.”
“We can make you tell us, you know,” Deimos said, leaning in. His pupils expanded, blotting out the green. They began to glow with a pulsating yellow light.
A tidal wave of panic washed over me, followed by a rush of adrenaline that made my heart pound.
“She looks so scared,” Phobos said, prowling forward, “like she saw a ghost.” His eyes were like pools of ice.
Fear trickled up my spine, and my skin grew clammy.
“She’s going to panic. Just look at her,” Deimos said, tilting his head to the side.
Panic. Yes. I wanted to jump out of my own skin. Run screaming down the trail. And I would have if my feet weren’t suddenly glued in place. Sweat ran down my face. I stared at the ground, willing myself to stop being so scared—and failing.
The clearing was deathly silent. The only sound was a loud buzzing from overhead. Angie whimpered faintly. Damian trembled where he stood.
“So scared, isn’t she, brother?” Phobos crooned. “I see her screaming all the way to Mount Olympus.”
“Father thought you were different,” Deimos said in my ear, his eyes glowing like neon coals. “But you’re nothing special at all.”
“Just a girl who’s going to cry herself to sleep tonight,” Phobos said in my other ear, “an unwanted offspring like poor Macario.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Something snapped inside of me, lighting the fuse of my temper. Macario hadn’t asked to be born the son of a god and a simple tree nymph, any more than I had asked to have this stupid prophecy hanging over my head. Blood flowed to my brain again. Whatever force was making me pee-my-pants scared faded as my anger took over.
The twins were too busy gloating to notice.
“I’m bored with this pathetic little band of nobodies,” Phobos said. “Shall we leave them trapped in their own nightmares?”
“We shall,” Deimos answered. “Father will just have to find a new champion.”
Laughing, they headed back to their rides. By the time they reached them, I had enough crackling energy to blow a hole in the side of a mountain.
“Hey, duck butts!”
They paused.
“I’m not scared of you. And Macario’s got more class in his big toe than the pair of you have between you.”
They turned stiffly.
“What did you say?” Phobos’s voice was deadly as a serpent.
A fat lightning bolt appeared in my hand. I looked up from beneath the curtain of hair that hung over my face. “I said I’m not afraid of you.” I raised my arm, holding the glowing bolt.
“Throw that at your peril,” Deimos sneered. “Touch us with your powers, and we will destroy your mind. You’ll dribble into your porridge with terror the rest of your days.”
“Oh, I’m not going to touch you.”
I threw the bolt.
Straight up.
Over their heads.
At the hornet’s nest that dangled from a branch.
The bolt hit the branch, splintering it. The twins looked up in shock as the giant hive fell in slow motion, bouncing off one branch to land on another, shattering into pieces and sending a bazillion angry yellow jackets swarming in search of the culprit.
The hornets descended on the pair, making them dance wildly as they swatted at them. We scrambled onto our horses and whipped them down the trail, leaving the pair screaming as the hornets had their way with them. I half hoped the Erinyes showed up so they could meet Ares’s horrid offspring face-to-face along with the charming swarm of stinging insects. The thought kept a smile on my face until we had left them far behind.
We slowed the horses down. Their chests were heaving, and foam flecked their flanks. I patted mine on the side of the neck as Macario rode up beside me.
“Thanks,” he said gruffly. “No one’s ever stuck up for me before.”
I glanced over at him. “How come you didn’t just send a sunbeam at their yap traps?”
He scowled. “My father limited my powers when I was born. He gave me the gift of sunbeams, but I can never use them against another god.”
“Hey, sun-brain, is that it?” Angie pointed at a black cave that loomed between a stand of trees.
Macario pulled up his horse, nodding solemnly. “Yes. The sphinx’s lair.”
We tied off the horses to some scrub. Macario marched into the entrance, followed by Angie and Damian. I lingered outside. This was step one of getting Carl back. I should have been excited, not choking back a softball-sized knot of dread that made it hard to breathe.
Angie paused in the opening. “Coming, Katzy?”
I nodded, moving forward on leaden feet.
CHAPTER 20
There was no need for light. Blazing torches were placed every few feet as if welcoming guests. Distant strands of violin music drifted down the tunnel. The melody was horribly out of tune, as if the players didn’t know how to play. It grew to a deafening racket as we came through an archway and entered into a cavernous room.
It kind of reminded me of the inside of a harem. Canopies of red silk hid the rocky ceiling. A colorful brocade rug covered the ground. Sequined dressing gowns hung from a rack, each gaudier than the next. Candelabras held racks of gleaming candles. A trunk in the corner spilled over with gold, jewels, and the odd goblet. Seated on the oversized plush sofa in the center of it all sat Miss Kitty.
Her homely human face was square, with a jutting chin and thick bushy eyebrows. Wild ringlets circled her head. Her eyes were made-up with violet eyeshade, and her garish lips were painted crimson. She wore a purple dressing gown open in the front, embroidered with sequins and trimmed in white fur. The rest of her tawny lion-shape sprawled across the sofa, rear paws lazily drooped over one armrest. Her claws were painted the same bright red as her lipstick. A set of golden wings jutted up behind her.
Three misshapen, oversized rats played violins, thumping their tails in rhythm. Or maybe they were bats. They sported leathery black wings. The trio of bat-rats each wore a vest and a red cap. Miss Kitty’s foot tapped along to their wild tune.
We’d taken two steps into the chamber when she sat up sharply, her nose scenting the air. “Quiet, you fools. I think Miss Kitty has visitors.” She stood up, balancing on her hind legs. A long tail swished the air behind her and then curved over her back in an arch, revealing a hissing snake head.
She spied us and pointed her paw at us. “Fetch them here! Don’t let them escape!”
One of her musical minions whistled shrilly and then joined the other two in taking flight, flapping furiously around our heads, driving us forward.
More bat-rats appeared, scurrying out of every crack and crevice, hissing and snapping at our ankles, herding us onto the rug in front of her sofa.
We warily huddled together. Angie drew the small sword General Egan had
given her and waved it. “Back off, or I’ll slice your tail off.”
The sphinx laughed. “Aren’t you a feisty little thing? Miss Kitty thinks you will make a delicious first course.” She pranced forward on her back paws, licking her lips in anticipation.
“You can’t touch her,” Damian said firmly, stepping in front of Angie. “First you have to ask us a riddle. If we answer it correctly, we can leave unharmed with a sack of gold.”
She stopped and drew one curved claw down Damian’s cheek. “Sadly, no one has ever answered Miss Kitty’s riddle correctly. You children shall be no different.”
“Ha, he knows the answer already,” Macario boasted, jerking his thumb at Damian.
I could have knocked the kid sideways.
Miss Kitty’s eyes narrowed. “But how can that be, when Miss Kitty hasn’t asked it of him? None who have heard my riddle have left here alive.” With a leap she knocked Damian down, planting a paw on his chest. “What lie is this? Tell me this instant before I devour you.”
“I read it in a book,” he said. “The answer is man.”
Miss Kitty jerked back from him as a chorus of cries rang out from her minions. “But … how is this possible? What magic allows you to know my secret?”
“It’s not magic. It’s called history,” Damian said, getting back on his feet.
“The details aren’t important,” I cut in. “We just need to borrow a feather from you, and we’ll be on our way.”
But Miss Kitty wasn’t listening. She paced the length of her sofa, wringing her front paws. “No, no, no, this is all wrong. You’ve ruined Miss Kitty, ruined her.” Her snake-tail hissed at us, waving in the air as she marched back and forth.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Angie said. “Just make up a new riddle.”
Damian and I both gaped at Angie as if she had lost her mind.
If the sphinx asked us a new riddle and we couldn’t answer it, we were all dead.
Angie slapped a hand to her mouth as she realized her mistake.
Miss Kitty stopped pacing, a gleam entering her eye. “Yes. A new riddle. One I’ve never shared out loud, so it won’t be in any history book.” She seated herself back on her sofa, patting the head of the snake with one paw. It nestled into her, enjoying the scratch of her claws.
She turned her eyes on us and began to recite the riddle.
“I have a head but cannot think or care.
Four legs to hold me but only one foot to share.
Spend time with me, and you can go anywhere. What am I?”
She clapped her paws together, and one of her rat-bats dragged a tall hourglass over. It shook the piece until all the sand was in the bottom and then thumped it over on its head.
“Come, children,” Miss Kitty said. “The sands of time have begun to run. When the hourglass empties, you will belong to me.”
The sand looked like it was running out pretty fast. I turned to Damian. “Come on, genius, put that super brain of yours to work and come up with an answer.”
“I’m thinking.” His face was screwed up in a tight knot. I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head.
Angie squeaked. “Uh, Katzy—I think we have another problem.”
The army of rat-bats were prowling closer, encircling us. And they had a distinct predator’s gleam in their eyes.
“That’s not fair,” I said, giving one a swift kick. “You have to give us time to solve the riddle.”
“I didn’t say I had to make it easy,” Miss Kitty purred, eyes glowing. “My pets are hungry. If they eat you before you solve the puzzle, I didn’t break the rules. They did.” Her serpent tail flicked out its forked tongue. I could swear the thing was smiling at us. Like it couldn’t wait to get its share of my flesh.
I called up a small lightning bolt. “Angie, Macario, flank Damian while he concentrates.”
We formed a triangle around him. Damian was mumbling the riddle to himself as his brain churned it over. If anyone could solve it, I put my money on Damian.
One of the rat-bats nipped at my ankle. I swung at its head with the lightning bolt, knocking it aside.
“Damian, we really need an answer now,” I said as Macario threw a small beam of sun fire into a cluster of them, sending them squealing as their tails caught fire.
“Stop interrupting me,” he snapped.
Angie hacked at three of the flying pests that got too close.
“No pressure, Big D, but”—she swung at one—“we’re really”—she swung at another—“out of time.”
“You’re not helping!” he shouted. “Just, everyone, be quiet.”
We backed into a small knot. Sweat rolled down my back. The sands of the hourglass trickled down until there were only a few grains left.
As the last one fell, Miss Kitty stood up from her sofa. “Children, it appears that you have run out of time.”
I was trying to think of a Plan B, something that involved a lot of lightning and maybe some luck, when Damian started shouting.
“I’ve got it! I know the answer. It’s a bed. It has a head, a foot, four legs, and it can take you anywhere when you dream.”
Mottled splotches colored Miss Kitty’s cheeks. Her wings flared behind her as she prowled forward and kicked the hourglass aside with one paw. “You ran out of time, boy, and now you belong to me.”
“No.” I lunged forward with my lightning bolt. “We answered your question. That means you can’t touch us.”
The sphinx snarled, slashing the air with a paw. “Fool, I make the rules here. Just because you answered my question doesn’t mean I have to let you go. I can kill you anytime I want to.” She launched herself into the air and began flying in a circle over our heads. “Which one of you shall I eat first?”
She swooped down with her claws outstretched. “I think this one looks juicy!” She headed for Angie. Her jaws opened unnaturally wide, and her teeth grew into curved fangs.
Macario and I both launched our bolts, but Miss Kitty rotated sideways, dodging them, reaching greedy claws out for Angie. I leaped up on the sofa and jumped off the armrest, tackling the sphinx in midair.
Her wings flapped, lifting us higher as I grappled with her. She snapped her nasty jaws at me, but we crashed into the back wall before she could tear a bite of flesh out of me. I hit the ground hard, rolling back onto my feet as she thumped down next to me
She rose on her back legs to tower over me. “Now your flesh will be mine,” she sneered, raising her paw to swipe my head off. She was so intent on killing me, she didn’t see Damian come up beside her.
“You’re nothing but a cheat,” he said. She lifted her gaze from me to him. That’s when he punched her.
Yup, my brainiac friend had a mean right hook.
He buried his fist in her pudgy chin. In slow motion, she backpedaled across the rug, tripping over the edge of her gown. She fell into a candelabra. The candles toppled over, spilling wax and lighting her wings on fire.
“No, not my pretty wings!” She screamed in pain, hopping from paw to paw around the room as she furiously patted the flames. She flailed around, knocking into the rack of gowns and entangling herself. The flimsy fabrics went up like rocket fuel.
We watched in horror as the flames began to consume her, turning her into a raging spire. The silk canopy caught fire, filling the cavern with choking smoke. Her minions scattered in every direction.
“Damian what about the feather?” I pulled my jacket up to protect my mouth from the smoke.
“We need to put out the fire,” he said, coughing and holding one hand up to ward off the heat.
I clenched my fists and thought of the rainiest, wettest day ever. I shouted the word that popped into my head.
“Vrocheros!”
A thick cloud swirled over our heads. Thunder rumbled in the cavern. And then the rain came. Buckets and buckets of water, dousing us and the sphinx.
When the rain fizzled out, Miss Kitty was nothing more than a pile of charred flesh. I ginge
rly poked the remains and triumphantly came up with a singed feather.
“Here goes nothing.”
I laid the mirror on my palm and dangled the feather over it. It vibrated under my fingertips. When I let it go, it hovered over the mirror a moment before it settled into the oval opening, reshaping itself to fit. A layer of silver oozed over the top and turned solid, leaving a raised shape.
“That’s powerful magic,” Macario breathed in awe.
“But you fried the sphinx,” Damian said with his usual frown.
“It wasn’t my fault! We answered her riddle fair and square.” A sliver of hope made my hand tighten on the mirror. I looked at Angie. “One down, five to go.”
She nodded. “Time to find a giant pig monster.”
“And hope we don’t run into its gut-ripping tusks,” Damian muttered.
CHAPTER 21
I chewed over Damian’s words as we made our way out of the valley. You fried the sphinx. Wasn’t that a good thing? One less flesh-eating monster in the world? So why did I feel like a giant wrecking ball? Like for every good thing I tried to do, ten bad things happened.
Given that half of Olympus seemed to have it in for me, we stayed well away from the city of Thebes. At least using my lightning in the cave hadn’t called the Erinyes. Damian theorized it was because we were underground.
After another night sleeping on the ground, the horses trotted briskly under a searing blue sky. According to Macario, the vicious she-pig roamed the hills above a seaside village named Crommyon.
“Are we there yet?” Angie moaned, not for the first time.
“Angie, quit whining,” Damian said. “Do you see a giant pig anywhere?”
“No, all I see is your annoying sunburned face. I’m hungry. I need to eat a meal. A real meal,” she added before he could point out we had feasted on stale bread rolls that morning, the last of our meager supplies from General Egan.
Angie suddenly pulled up her horse, sniffing the air. “Is that—do I smell bacon?”
We halted, all of us eagerly testing the air. A sudden breeze ruffled my hair. Saliva flooded my mouth as the delicious aroma of fried bacon reached my nostrils.
