The Eye of Zeus

by Alane Adams

  “That. Was. Epic!” And then Angie began dancing the Floss in front of the limp beast.

  I blinked to clear my vision. Using that much lightning had left me light-headed, but there was no time to rest. “We need a fang. Quick, before it decides to come back to life and grow ten more heads.”

  We splashed over to the nearest head. Angie peeled back its upper lip, revealing double rows of deadly teeth.

  “Hold it steady,” I said. “I don’t want it to snap closed on me.”

  I tested the fangs and found one that was loose. I wriggled it back and forth until I could tug it free. Taking the mirror, I pressed the fang into the triangle-shaped slot. This time it accepted it. A tremor of power ran up my arm as the slot sealed over.

  Four down, two to go.

  We sloshed back to find Damian standing stock still in the same place. I snapped my fingers in his face, and he startled, dragging in a deep breath.

  “Am I really alive?”

  I nodded. “We did it. We got the fang.”

  “Good. That was fun, wasn’t it?” He was making light of it, but I knew he was shaken. Badly. And it was all my fault.

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “No more being the bait.”

  He smiled weakly. “You said that before. It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

  “I mean it this time. I don’t want to lose you. I won’t do that again.”

  He nodded. But I wasn’t sure he believed me.

  CHAPTER 28

  We made our way to the edge of the swamp. Our legs and arms were scratched and bleeding. Smelly mud and sticky hydra slime coated our once pristine tunics. It was a relief to slip our boots back on and be rid of the stinging insects. Only two talismans remained. The boys began arguing about which one to go after first.

  “Cerberus is next on our list,” Damian said.

  “But the chimera is easier to get to,” Macario argued.

  “Tell me what it is again?” I asked.

  “Mostly lion with a goat sticking out of its back.”

  My eyebrow went up. “A goat? Really?”

  Macario nodded. “And a snake for a tail like Miss Kitty.”

  I shook my head. “Now I’ve heard it all. Cerberus is the three-headed dog, right?” I said, turning to Damian.

  “He guards the underworld. If I remember my maps correctly, there’s an entrance north of here where the Acheron river meets the sea.”

  “Where does the chimera live?” I asked Macario.

  “Outside Lycia. It’s across the Aegean Sea.”

  “Across the sea? How are we supposed to get there?”

  “We can hire a boat. There are herds of wild pegasuses there. Once we slay the chimera, we can fly the pegasuses across the seas to Acheron. Their wings are so fast we’ll arrive before we’ve even left.”

  “But the underworld is closer now,” Damian said. “We should deal with Cerberus and then head to Lycia. Our last stop is Olympus.”

  “Exactly, which is a straight shot from Acheron.”

  “So is Lycia,” Damian argued.

  These two were giving me a headache. “So basically, it’s a toss-up. Angie, what do you think?”

  “I say we deal with the freaky lion-goat first and leave the underworld for last.”

  I had to agree. I had no desire to go deep underground where the dead lived. None at all.

  “Chimera it is,” I announced.

  Damian protested but I held up my hand. “Your leader has spoken. No more arguing. Macario, how do we arrange this boat?”

  “I know just the place,” Macario winked.

  Macario led us to a charming fishing village on the edge of the sparkling blue sea. The sand was white as sugar. Simple adobe huts with bundled sticks for roofs lined the shore. Old men played some kind of dice game in the shade. Olive-skinned street urchins dressed in nothing but white loincloths offered us strings of pretty shells.

  Macario talked to one of the older boys.

  Correction, he wasn’t a boy, at least not completely. He looked about fourteen, but he had horns. Yup, small horns that peeked out of the mop of curly hair on his head. He even had a slight scruff under his lip. And did I mention his feet were hooves? His bare chest was human as could be, but he walked on a pair of what looked like goat legs. My jaw hung open. Angie’s did the same.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I think it’s a satyr,” Damian said. “Epically cool.”

  Macario’s hand flashed, and a coin passed to the other boy before our friend rejoined us.

  Over Macario’s shoulder, the satyr caught my eye and held it, gazing at me with an intensity that left me wondering if I had dirt on my face.

  Macario filled us in. “Karisto says there is a small fishing boat we can use. Its owner has been sick for two weeks. He says he can borrow it to take us to Lycia.”

  “How do you know we can trust this Karisto?” I asked.

  “Because I paid him well,” Macario said. “You have to trust me. I’ve been here before.”

  We made our way out to the docks, stopping to buy a few supplies, draping casks of water and fresh fruits over our shoulders. Karisto stopped in front of a weathered boat that looked like it was about to sink. It listed heavily to one side, and its ragged sails hung limp.

  “It’s great,” Macario said. “A fine boat.”

  “Um, it’s got holes in it,” Damian said, pointing at the missing strips of wood in the siding.

  “It’s a death ship,” Angie blurted out.

  “No, we are not taking this,” I said firmly.

  “You have a problem with my boat?” Karisto snapped, his eyes flashing disdain.

  “I have a problem with dying out on the open water,” I snapped back.

  “Then the deal’s off.” He turned his back and clomped away.

  Macario glared at me and scurried after him. “Karisto, my friend, she didn’t mean it.”

  The satyr paused. “The price just went up.”

  Macario frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Because of her rudeness, I will need something more or the deal is off.”

  “We don’t have any more money to spare,” Macario said.

  “That’s okay. I need light.” Karisto’s voice turned a bit gruff. “For the kids. They work all day and do their schoolwork at night, but they don’t have oil for the lamps.”

  “How are we supposed to give them light?” I asked.

  He pointed at Macario. “This one can do it.”

  He wanted a sunbeam. “Can you do that?” I asked Macario.

  He shrugged. “If it’s stored well.”

  Karisto called to one of the boys. The urchin ran into a bait shop and returned with a glass urn with a stopper on top.

  Macario rubbed his hands and clapped them together. A glowing sunbeam appeared. It gave off a radiant heat that made my face warm. He carefully placed it in the glass urn and put the stopper in.

  “Set this on a shelf. If you don’t open it, the light should be good for several weeks.”

  The young boy carried it carefully down the dock, followed by a cheering group of urchins.

  We boarded our sad-looking ship. I opened my mouth to tell Karisto the lamp was a nice thing to do, but he barked at me.

  “How about you give us some wind, demigod, instead of standing there?”

  Macario must have told him who I was—but what exactly had I done to get on his bad side?

  “Are you sure it won’t draw the Erinyes?” I asked Damian. They had left us alone in the swamp. I didn’t want to push my luck.

  Damian shrugged. “Should be okay. It’s not major power.”

  I sucked in air, imagining the wind building and pushing. Exhaling, I whispered, “Anemos.” Instantly the sails filled, and the boat jumped forward, skimming sleekly across the water.

  Karisto clip-clopped across the deck, leaving scuff marks as he adjusted the sails. He had a strong chest with tiny whorls of hair. His tattered canvas shorts were las
hed around his waist with a length of rope. He went about his business, checking the lines and calling orders to Angie, who held the tiller.

  The ship rode the gentle waves easily. The sun was shining, making the water dance with light. After the first hour, I relaxed. My job was simple: keep enough wind in the sails to keep the ship moving. It wasn’t that tough, a little puff now and then. I lay in the back of the ship, tossing figs into my mouth as I let my fingers trail in the cool water.

  “Are you always so lazy?” Karisto grunted at me as he swabbed the deck with a makeshift mop made of rags.

  “I can’t use my powers, or the Erinyes will come at me with silver arrows that are pretty much deadly.”

  “There are other things you can do,” he said angrily. “You could help with the sails.”

  “I don’t know anything about sailing.” I tossed another fig in the air.

  He swung his mop, hitting the fig and sending it sailing over the water. A silvery fish jumped out of the froth and swallowed it.

  I sat up, annoyed. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Because that fish needed it more than you did.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “You’re lazy.”

  We glared at each other.

  This was going to be a long trip.

  Sailing is boring. Really boring. There’s nothing much to do but watch the waves. Damian spent the time fishing with Macario, laughing as they reeled in wriggling silver fish. The two of them bonded over the best hook to use and what bait was better, moldy cheese or fish guts.

  Yuck.

  And Angie. Don’t get me started. She and Karisto passed the time battling each other with makeshift swords. The satyr, apparently, was a world-class swords-goat and had fashioned a pair of wooden practice blades to teach Angie everything he knew.

  I was left to sulk on my own.

  On the second day, we passed by a small island off to our left.

  “We should stop there,” Karisto said. “We can buy some more supplies.”

  “We don’t have a lot of money,” Macario said.

  “That’s okay,” goat-boy said. “We can sell some of the fish.” He held up the string of fish the boys had caught.

  We nosed into an empty slip. The wharfman accepted a small coin from Karisto to leave the boat there a few hours. A rocky path led from the harbor to a small village. The limestone houses were clean and well tended. Grape vines and vegetable gardens filled the yards. Women were out pinning laundry to the lines. White tunics flapped in the ocean breezes. The women stopped to stare at us as we made our way up the hill.

  Damian stopped halfway up and tugged on my arm. “Phoebe, whatever you do, don’t use your powers. We can’t have the Erinyes tracking us.”

  “I won’t.”

  “No, I mean it. You have to swear on Carl’s life.”

  I sighed. “Fine, I swear, cross my heart.”

  “On Carl’s life,” he pressed. I could feel Karisto’s eyes watching me, and I flushed. “On Carl’s life, jeez, I said I promise.” I pushed past him, irritated by his lack of faith in me.

  Macario and Karisto moved along the stalls of the marketplace with Angie and Damian. Karisto was haggling for a good price for our haul of fish.

  I lagged behind, feeling a tug toward a white building with a bell in the tower. It looked like a school. A crowd of boys had gathered out front.

  I pushed my way in. A boy my age stood in the center of the circle. Three boys were taunting him, all of them bigger. The boy’s tunic was soiled and ragged, and his untrimmed hair fell to his shoulders. He wore old leather sandals that had been tied together with string.

  “You don’t belong here, fisherman, so take your smelly feet elsewhere.”

  “Yeah, get lost.”

  They shoved the boy to the ground. His lunch spilled out of his bag, a green apple and some bread and cheese.

  “Hey, knock it off,” I said, thrusting myself into the circle. I helped the boy to his feet. “What did he ever do to you?”

  They eyed me, studying my clothes to see if I was anyone of importance. The sight of my golden headband made them hesitate, in spite of the fact that my tunic was spattered with dried hydra blood.

  “I don’t need your help,” the boy said to me.

  “No? Because it looks to me like you’re outnumbered.”

  “What are you, another fisherman’s castoff?” the tallest boy sneered. He had blond hair and buck teeth as big as a horse’s.

  “No. I am a daughter of Zeus, so beware.”

  They looked at each other, then laughed. Bucktooth laughed the hardest, spraying spittle at me as he snickered out, “If you’re a daughter of Zeus, I’m a centaur’s uncle.”

  “I’m thinking more a son of a donkey,” I said.

  His face turned tomato red. “My father is the king. Boys, let’s teach them a lesson about knowing their place.”

  I itched to call up a lightning bolt. Electricity tingled at my fingertips, and then I remembered my stupid promise. I hated Damian right then. I let my fingers uncurl.

  “Got any ideas?” I asked the boy softly.

  “Yeah, do what I always do. Run.” He ducked into the crowd and took off. I followed two steps behind.

  “Get them!” Bucktooth shouted.

  We ran through the marketplace, weaving in and out of stalls. I tried to keep the boy in my sight, but after a few turns, I lost him.

  Unfortunately, I found the three bullies from the schoolyard.

  “Lookie here,” Bucktooth sneered, “it’s time to teach this peasant a lesson in manners.”

  They circled in closer, backing me into an alley. I looked left and right, trying to see where I could run, but I was trapped.

  Unless I used my powers.

  CHAPTER 29

  When I opened my eyes, everything hurt. My cheek was bruised, and my lip was swollen. My body felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to it. I was lying on a thin pad in a shadowy room, a light blanket over me. Gauzy fabric separated the rooms, moving gently in the breeze. I could smell a fire and something cooking. A woman’s voice murmured, and a boy answered.

  I sat up, feeling a bit dizzy, and knocked over a bowl of water. There was a rustle of fabric, and then a woman stood in the doorway with the boy I had tried to protect. The sun was behind her, so it was hard to see her face. Long caramel-colored hair fell in waves over her shoulder. She looked kind, if a little sad around the eyes.

  “You’re awake.” She gave the boy a push. “Go fetch her a bowl of soup.”

  He ran off and returned with a steaming bowl in his hands. The woman left us as he set it carefully next to me, squatting down to my level. I got a good look at his face then. His eyes were the same color as mine, a bright blueish green. “You look terrible,” he said with a grin.

  “Whose fault is that?” I said, lifting the bowl. “You left me alone with those bullies.”

  “I didn’t ask for your help,” he reminded me, “but thanks all the same. I’m sorry they got hold of you. I looked for you.”

  “Where am I?”

  “Mother and I helped you home, once we found you in that alley.”

  “Thanks.”

  I spooned some soup up. It was a delicious lamb stew, with chunks of meat floating in thick gravy and potatoes. I finished it quickly, then set the bowl down.

  “I really need to get going. My friends will be looking for me.” I stood up, testing out my legs and arms. There didn’t appear to be anything broken. Just my pride.

  Outside the hut, the sun was high in the sky. I must’ve been out for a couple hours. The harbor sparkled down below. We were in a neighborhood of simple huts—stone enclosures with heavy canvas stretched over them to keep out the sun. Kids ran about, playing a game that involved tossing pebbles into a circle. Women were busy at work, washing clothes and pounding out flatbread, while men mended fishing nets. Dried fish hung on racks.

  The boy’s mother put her arm around his shoulders. “M
y son told me what you did for him. It was very brave.”

  “Stupid, but brave,” he said with a wink.

  The sound of hooves pounding made the woman turn. Clouds of dust swirled as men on horseback entered the small village. The men wore leather-girded vests, carried swords and pointed lances, and had shields slung over their backs. Their horses bore armor as well, shiny metal helmets over their heads and ornate chest plates. This was someone’s army.

  The woman turned to me, grasping my shoulders. “Hide inside! Whatever happens, do not come out.” She pushed me back into the little hut. I moved to the small window, kneeling down so that I could see.

  A man dismounted, handing his reins to one of the soldiers. “You have insulted the king’s son,” he said, grabbing the boy I had helped by the collar. “You will be thrashed within an inch of your life.”

  “Don’t hurt him!” The woman flung herself at the soldier. He raised his hand to strike her.

  A trumpet blared, and everyone froze as another man rode up, parting the throng of soldiers with his horse. A golden crown glinted in the sunlight. His shoulders were draped with a heavy red cape embroidered with gold stitching. He looked cruel, his mouth a slash in his face.

  Four men ran up and helped him down. Gold inlaid boots came up to his knees. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was a king, especially since every person he passed by dropped down to one knee, including the woman and the boy.

  “King Polydectes,” she said, keeping her head down. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

  “Rise. I want to see your face.”

  She stood, keeping her eyes downcast. The boy stood next to her, his hand clasped in hers.

  The king raised her chin with a finger. “My dear, why do you hide such a pretty face?”

  “Leave my mother alone!” The boy tried to step in front of her, but the king backhanded him, sending him flying to the ground.

  The woman gasped, dropping down to help him back to his feet.

  Ooh, how I wanted to teach this king a lesson, but it would only make things worse for this family.

  “I could have the boy executed for speaking in that manner to his king,” the royal bully said. “But I’m in a mood to be fair. You hide yourself in this fishing village, but I know the blood that runs through your veins. I will have you as my queen. Come of your own accord, or I will find a way to make you.”