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Authors: Joan Holub,Suzanne Williams

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BOOK: Hephaestus and the Island of Terror
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“Sometimes Pythia doesn’t see things clearly, though,” Zeus reminded her. “I wish we could be a hundred percent sure what we were going to be up against.”

“Or even ninety percent,” quipped Poseidon.

Just then the peacock feather flew back into Hera’s hand. She looked into its orange eye and gasped. “There’s a Crony up ahead, coming this way!” she exclaimed. “Just one, I think. He looks like a scout.”

“Hide!” said Zeus, running for cover.

“Aw, come on. It’s just one Crony. We can take him! Anyone up for a fight?” asked Ares, waving his spear. He was the god of war and was always eager for battle.

“No! He could sound an alarm and call up an army,” argued Zeus. “We can’t take that chance.”

Disappointment showed in Ares’s strange red eyes, but he didn’t argue.

“Hurry!” said Hera. “He’s getting closer.”

“There’s a clump of bushes over there,” said Demeter, pointing. The Olympians hurried to take cover.

“All right,” Zeus told the others. “Settle down and stay quiet.”

“What if Artemis starts snoring?” Hera asked.

“Artemis! Where is she?” Apollo exclaimed, looking around suddenly. “I let go of her for half a second, and now she’s gone.”

Zeus peeked out from the bushes. There, not more than ten feet away, stood Artemis. “Frog jumped over the moon,” she said softly. Shoulders drooping, she stood right in the middle of the path. She was asleep on her feet!

Crunch! Crunch!
It was the sound of huge boots crossing the sandy soil. The Crony scout. He was coming closer. In seconds he would discover Artemis!

Hera elbowed Zeus. “Do something!”

CHAPTER TWO
It’s Not Really Stealing
 
.
 
.
 
.

Z
eus leaped out of the bushes. He rushed over to Artemis, grabbed her by the arm, and half-dragged her to their hiding spot just in the nick of time.

From the bushes the ten Olympians watched the Crony scout appear through the trees. He looked fierce in his loincloth and metal chest armor, and he was bulging with muscles. In other words, he was dangerous!

“Who brought the carrots?” Artemis murmured through her haze of sleep.

Poseidon clapped a hand over her mouth before she could say anything more. Unfortunately, she bit his hand and he almost cried out. Fortunately, Hera clapped a hand over Poseidon’s mouth to keep him quiet too. The other Olympians all held their breath as the Crony stopped and looked around. Would he search for them now?

Luckily, the Crony, didn’t seem to think whatever he’d heard was important. Moments later he stomped on by.
Phew!
Zeus let out a breath of relief. When they couldn’t hear the crunching of the Crony’s boots anymore, the immortals stepped out of hiding.

“Ow!” Poseidon said at last, rubbing his hurt hand. But a few sprinkles of water from the pronged tips of his trident seemed to quickly ease his pain.

“Good. He’s going inland, opposite from the way we’re going to reach the coast,” said Hera.

“So I guess the coast is clear,” joked Hades. Unlike Artemis, he’d been pretty quiet up till now.

“Let’s hope so,” said Zeus. Just in case, he stayed alert. You never knew. An entire army of Cronies could surprise them when they least expected it.

Apollo nudged Zeus’s arm as they started off on their journey again. “Thank you, mister, for saving my sister.”

“Anytime,” Zeus replied, and he meant it. Artemis was under a spell and meant no harm. And he had only done what needed to be done. No matter how dangerous, difficult, or scary the task, that was what Olympians did.

The words of his mother, Rhea, came back to him.
I know you will make good choices, Zeus. You and the other Olympians have made many good choices already. You are kind to one another and the mortals you meet. You help those in need.
She had told Zeus this when she’d appeared to him in the shadows during his recent battle with an important Titan named Crius.

When the huge Titan had teased him, Zeus had grown angry. Very angry. It was an anger like he’d never felt before—uncontrollable. He’d pinned Crius to the ground, holding one of his magical objects, Bolt, high and ready. It had sizzled with electric energy. His hand had trembled. He’d wanted to zap Crius, to destroy him with a massive blow from the daggerlike thunderbolt.

But the voice of his mother had stopped him.

Had losing control like that meant Zeus was as evil as King Cronus himself? He didn’t want to be evil. But Zeus had learned on another quest that King Cronus was actually his father! Since
then Zeus constantly worried that he might one day turn out as rotten as the king.

Rhea had told him not to worry, that he could make his own choices and did not have to end up like Cronus. His mother’s words had made Zeus feel better. Still, sometimes his anger surged again, and he wondered if Rhea could have been wrong.

After some time passed, Poseidon took a deep breath. “Salt air!” he announced, breaking into a big smile. “We’re close to the sea!”

When the Olympians heard this, they began running faster. Minutes later they came upon a busy dock filled with ships. Fishermen scurried about, loading and unloading their ships with baskets of goods. Beyond the ships the blue-green waters of the sea glittered in the morning sunlight.

“Keep an eye out for Cronies,” Zeus warned as they made their way down to the docks.

“The brave Olympians were forced to flee, but at long last they reached the sea,”
Apollo sang happily.

“Hey, post a sign, why don’t you?” grumped Hera.

“She’s right,” warned Zeus. “There could be Cronies around here somewhere, hiding. Or informants who’ll tell them we were here. So it’s best to keep quiet about being Olympians.”

“Um, how exactly are we supposed to cross this sea to Lemnos anyway?” Hades asked, looking around. “We don’t have a ship.”

“Good question,” Athena agreed. “Zeus, what’s the plan?”

Zeus frowned, thinking. They didn’t have any money to pay for passage to Lemnos. The only things they had of value were magical objects, and they couldn’t part with them.

Ares spoke up before Zeus could answer. “Let’s
storm one of the ships and take it for our own!” he cried, shaking his spear.

“We are
not
battling for a ship,” said Zeus firmly.

“Yeah, battling for a ship would be an uphill . . . uh—
battle
—for sure,” agreed Poseidon.

“Well, maybe we could cause a distraction and then just . . . borrow a ship,” suggested Hestia.

Zeus frowned. “You mean . . .
steal
a ship?”

“Well, it’s not stealing if we give it back after our quest,” Hera reasoned. “I’m with Hestia on this.”

The other Olympians murmured in agreement. They couldn’t just ask the fishermen for help, thought Zeus. What if the fishermen were on the side of the Cronies? And the Olympians had to get to the Island of Lemnos somehow. He hated to admit it, but stealing—that is,
borrowing
—a ship might be their only option.

Zeus reached for the magical object tucked into his belt. “I guess I could use Bolt to create a thunderstorm as a distraction while we steal—um,
borrow
—a ship.” He’d found his thunderbolt-shaped dagger in Pythia’s temple. That had been way back before he’d met these Olympians and started on this epic journey. At Zeus’s command Bolt could grow to five feet long and sizzle with the power of the heavens.

But before anyone could reply, a cry rose up among the fishermen. “Fire! Fire!” Some of them raced toward a nearby sand dune, while others grabbed buckets and filled them with water.

“What happened?” Zeus began. But then he noticed that Hestia was holding up her magical object, a long metal torch decorated with carvings. A bright flame danced in the shallow bowl atop it. She closed her eyes, and seconds later another small fire broke out on a sand dune near the first one. More fishermen with buckets of water ran toward it.

“Now the coast really is clear,” quipped Hades.

“Good job!” Athena told Hestia.

Hestia smiled and did a little happy dance. “I’m getting better at controlling the flame,” she said proudly.

“While everyone’s trying to put out the fires, we might as well grab a ship,” said Zeus. Clearly, it had been Hestia’s intention when she’d started the fires to draw the fishermen away so they could do just that! Zeus looked at Poseidon. “Which one? It’ll need to fit ten of us.”

As they ran along the dock, Poseidon scanned the ships. “There!” he called, pointing.

The ship he’d chosen for them had a large, wooden hull and a wide, white sail. Three long oars extended from each of the ship’s sides. It wasn’t
the largest ship on the dock, but it was just right for their group.

They rushed for the ship and quickly climbed on board. Hades and Hera hoisted the sails. The other Olympians—except for Artemis—grabbed the oars and started to row. The ship pulled away from the shore.

Suddenly Poseidon tossed his trident overboard. It splashed into the sea. Then he jumped in after it.

“First one to Lemnos wins!” he yelled happily. Straddling his trident, he zoomed off. Streams of water magically gushed out of the three prongs at its back end, shoving him forward across the waves.

BOOK: Hephaestus and the Island of Terror
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