Pheme the Gossip Read online

  It had been pure luck that his arrow had pierced the slip with her name.

  Hadn’t it?

  4

  Secrets

  HELLO? MS. THREEGRACES?” PHEME CALLED out cautiously as she entered the Beauty-ology room. No reply.

  By now fourth period had started. Everyone was at the chariot safety lecture in the gym, which she was perfectly happy to miss out on. She’d attended enough of them over the years. Lots of chariots racing around a track while Principal Zeus issued dire warnings and cautions. No, thank you!

  Pheme made a beeline for the shelves at the back of the classroom. All the cosmetics were lined up on them in neat groupings according to use. There were bottles of nail polish that could magically change colors, for example, and eye shadows that could make your eyes appear a different color.

  But she wasn’t interested in those. Instead she went straight for the shelf of Un-Spellers. These were magical lotions that erased magic-made beauty mistakes. Like if you magically dyed your eyebrows purple by accident, you could use an Un-Speller to get out the dye.

  She grabbed a tube of Super-Duper-Mega-Strength Un-Speller, hoping it would take away the red. After glopping some onto her palms, she smoothed it over both her hands. Then she waited for the tingle. And waited.

  Argh! Nothing happened. The power of Athena’s spell was apparently even stronger than Super-Duper-Mega-Strength Un-Speller! This was bad. Very bad.

  It meant that this red-handed spell could only be overcome by a much stronger spell. Figuring out the perfect Overcoming Spell would mean studying her Spell-ology scroll for hours and would take lots of trial and error.

  “I do not have time for this!” Pheme huffed. Quickly she sorted through some little pots of concealer, hoping to find a temporary fix. “Yes!” she exclaimed when she found one that matched her fair complexion.

  FOREVER FAIR said the label on the box in swirly letters. Beneath that were the words: “Caution: Magic concealer lasts through time, but not through washing. Do not add water.”

  “No hand washing. Got it,” she said to herself.

  Since she wouldn’t be able to wash her hands after she applied the concealer, she used the sink in a corner of the room to wash them now. A few minutes later she was standing before a makeup mirror, ready to begin.

  Scritch-scratch. Scritch-scratch.

  Pheme looked around nervously. “Who’s there?”

  Suddenly the lid popped off a small round box sitting on the next table over. Out flew a magic makeup brush. Eager to help, the brush zoomed up to Pheme and hovered just inches in front of her face. So close that she went cross-eyed for a minute.

  She backed up and grinned. “Yes, okay. I see you. And of course you can help.”

  At her invitation the brush gleefully swooped down to the pot of concealer and dipped into it. Then it darted straight for her nose.

  “No!” She ducked away. “Not my face. These!” She held her hands up and wiggled her fingers in front of the brush. “I need to cover up the red.”

  The brush reared back as if shocked by the sight. Recovering quickly, though, it got busy whisking the magic concealer on until only Pheme’s fingernails remained red.

  After examining her hands, she said, “Perfect! Now it just looks like I have red nail polish on.” She gave the makeup brush a thumbs-up. “Thanks!”

  The brush curved its bristle tips toward her, executing a little bow. Then it did a dozen back flips to land in its box again. The lid shut tight after it.

  What did it do in there when it wasn’t helping out, she wondered? If only it could actually talk, it would be fun to interview it for Teen Scrollazine once she got the reporter job. Imagine the stories it could tell—about who had zits and who had used it to cover up a wart or whatever. She’d love to know everyone’s makeup secrets!

  Pheme snatched up the pot of concealer to return it to the shelf, then tucked it into her pocket instead. She might need a touch-up if the concealer somehow accidentally washed off.

  Just as she hurried out the classroom door, Ms. ThreeGraces came around the corner. The teacher was impeccably groomed as always. Luckily, she was busy talking to a couple of girls with long, straight hair about a seriously hairy problem—split ends. None of them even noticed Pheme as she stole down the hall.

  Her fifth-period class was Revenge-ology with Ms. Nemesis. The classroom was at the end of another hallway, but class wouldn’t start for a while. Since the cafeteria was on the way, Pheme ducked in for a snack. By now she was starving!

  The cafeteria was deserted except for a few lunch ladies at the far side. As the goddessgirl of gossip, Pheme’s hearing was exceptionally good. So even from clear across the room she was able to hear them saying: “Ambrosia surprise? Nectar à la mode?” New menu ideas, she guessed.

  She wandered over to the snacks table and grabbed a little box of raisins. She gobbled them down, then checked her hands. Awesome! None of the concealer had rubbed off so far!

  Smiling, she rummaged through the snacks for a bag of ambrosia chips. There weren’t any, but sometimes extras were stored in the cupboard beneath the snacks table. It was something not many students knew, but Pheme had discovered it while snooping one day.

  Bending down, she opened the cupboard. A boy tumbled out! The golden-haired boy from Hermes’ chariot! His mouth was stuffed full, and he had a half-eaten bag of chips in his hands. Caught by surprise, crumbs sprayed out of his mouth.

  Then he recognized her and calmed down. “Hey, Red!” he said, jumping to his feet.

  “Stop calling me that!” she hissed, snatching a bag of chips from the cupboard. She glanced over at the lunch ladies, wondering if she should turn this boy in.

  Spotting one lunch lady with a long snout like an anteater’s, Pheme got distracted for a few seconds, watching her nose around the floor and countertops. What is that lady doing? she wondered. Sucking up crumbs? Ick!

  When she turned back to the boy, she found him staring at her hands. Self-conscious, she put them behind her back.

  “How come just your fingernails are red now?” he asked, stuffing a few more chips into his mouth.

  “Shh,” she cautioned him, nodding toward the lunch ladies.

  “They aren’t listening,” he told her.

  He was right. The lunch ladies didn’t appear to be paying any attention to them.

  “Yeah, but they’ll be able to read anything I say.” She pointed to the words puffing over her head as she spoke. To be on the safe side, Pheme grabbed his arm and towed him over behind the tray return. They’d be partially hidden there.

  “Okay, spill it,” she told him, plopping down on a random chair. “What are you up to? Why’d you come here? I don’t even know your name!” She ripped her chips open and began munching.

  The boy sat too, propping his feet in another chair. “I don’t know yours either, unless it really is Red.”

  Pheme was a little annoyed that he didn’t recognize her as the goddess of gossip. But then she was only a minor goddess. She wasn’t anywhere near as well known as Athena and her friends. All that would change once she got the job as a reporter for Teen Scrollazine, though. Mortals and immortals alike read it. She’d soon make a name for herself in print!

  In the meantime maybe it was best that he didn’t know who she was, since she wanted to ask him more questions. If he realized who she was, he might clam up.

  “Okay, no names for now,” she said. “We’ll go by nicknames instead. You can call me Red if you want to.” She glanced at his hair. “And I’ll call you Goldie. But, still, you have to answer my other questions.”

  “Sure,” he said agreeably. “You already probably figured out I’m from Earth, right?”

  She nodded encouragingly, which always got people to continue. Usually they had stories bursting to get out, and it didn’t take much to get them going.

  “Well, on the way to school down on Earth this morning, I saw Hermes’ chariot parked on the street.” He paused, his e
yes sparkling. “It’s awesome, don’t you think? Those silver wings.” He sighed rapturously. “Most chariots are pulled by horses, but—”

  Pheme swallowed a chip, then interrupted. “All right. I get it. You’re obsessed with chariots. Could you get to the point, though?”

  The boy grinned. “Yeah. Sorry. My mom says not everyone finds chariots as fascinating as I do.”

  Pheme tossed another chip into her mouth. “Um-hum. Go on,” she mumble-crunched.

  “Anyway,” he said, “when I saw Hermes’ chariot just sitting there, with him not in it, this irresistible urge came over me. I wanted to see what it was like to sit in the driver’s seat. So I climbed on up. And then I couldn’t resist tinkering with the controls. But just as I got the wings to flap, I heard Hermes coming back.”

  “Ye gods,” said Pheme, her eyes going wide. People could be touchy about their chariots, especially Hermes. Artemis too, come to think of it. Aphrodite had a cart drawn by swans, but Artemis was the only student at MOA with a real, actual chariot kept on the school grounds.

  Goldie nodded. “Exactly. So I dove into the pile of packages in the chariot.”

  “And became a stowaway,” Pheme guessed.

  “Only accidentally,” he told her. “I didn’t mean to end up at MOA. But now that I’ve had a look around, I think I’d like to go to school here, instead of down on Earth. Your school is way better than mine, with tons more interesting-sounding classes.” He smiled and popped an ambrosia chip into his mouth. “Better snacks, too. These chips are to die for.”

  “Think so?” said Pheme. “If you really want something to die for, just let Zeus find out you came here uninvited.” She drew a finger across her throat and made a choking face. “Believe me, you don’t want to put him in a bad mood. And anyway, ambrosia chips aren’t to die for. Ambrosia and nectar are what make immortals’ skin shimmer.”

  “Yeah, I know,” said Goldie. “We’re not totally clueless down on Earth. We study Immortal-ology at my school.” He cocked his head at her. “Hey, what are you the goddess of anyway?”

  “The goddess of telling Zeus about you if you don’t give me a good reason not to,” she warned. She hoped her statement would distract him from his question about her identity, and it did.

  “Great!” he said, surprising her. “Once I tell him who I am, I bet he’ll invite me to go here.” He leaped to his feet, looking enthusiastic. “So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go see him.”

  Actually, news of a stowaway was exactly the kind of thing Zeus would expect her to bring to him. But Pheme wanted to have her facts straight this time before she did. Facts like this mortal boy’s name and what he was up to. Her instincts told her there was more to his tale than he’d yet told her.

  “Zeus is a busy guy. I can’t just take any old stranger to his office,” said Pheme. Then she paused, waiting.

  “I’m not just any old stranger. My dad’s a god,” the stowaway said in a cocky voice.

  Stunned, Pheme stared at him. Now, this was unexpected news! Her mind raced ahead. If it was true, this could turn out to be an even bigger story than she’d first imagined. One sure to get Zeus’s attention. In a positive way.

  If they went to his office now, though, Zeus might get all blustery like he sometimes did when rules were broken. And he might just send Goldie home before she could get all the details of whatever mischief he could be plotting!

  Still, it was hard for her not to go to Zeus right away. For once she was back on his good side, it would be a snap to get him to write that letter of recommendation she needed. At least she hoped so. The application was due in just four days, counting today.

  “Really?” she said, struggling to contain her excitement. “Which god is your dad?”

  Goldie shot her an uncertain look. “I’m not supposed to say. It’s kind of a secret.”

  Pheme sighed in frustration. Honestly! No one at MOA, Zeus included, had any idea how hard she worked. Aphrodite only had to stand there and look beautiful and give others a few beauty tips now and then to be a success. Athena was naturally brainy, which made schoolwork easy for her. Artemis was a crack shot at archery and seemingly unafraid of anything. And Persephone was born with an incredible magic touch with flowers. She had the green thumbs to make anything grow.

  They all had it made, in Pheme’s opinion. But on top of her schoolwork and helping Ms. Hydra in the office, Pheme also had a full load of snooping and dorm monitor duties to do to fulfill her role as goddess of gossip and rumor. She was just lucky that snooping was something she enjoyed.

  Seeming to sense her impatience, the boy offered more. “I guess it’s okay to tell you my name. It’s Phaeton.” (Which he pronounced FAY-eh-ton.) “Since my dad’s a god, I figure that also makes me a god, right?”

  Pheme sent him a skeptical look. “Your skin doesn’t shimmer.”

  “Yeah, I know. See, in my family, parents have to pass on a special mark of immortality. Like some kind of tattoo or something. I don’t really know what it is,” he admitted. “My mom separated from my dad when I was a baby, and she doesn’t talk much about him. But he is a god. An important one.”

  Pheme shrugged. “If you say so.”

  “I’m not lying. My mom told me he was,” he said, frowning. “It’s true!”

  She studied her red fingernails, as if she’d suddenly lost interest in their conversation. It was a strategy that often made people cough up information they’d previously been reluctant to share. Would it work this time? She held her breath, hoping.

  “If I say who my dad is, do you promise you won’t tell anybody?” he asked finally.

  Pheme squirmed, wanting to jump for joy. She didn’t want to appear too eager, though, and she also didn’t want to make a promise she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep. Instead she simply twisted her thumb and index finger together at the corner of her lips, as if turning a key to lock them shut.

  “Tell you what,” she said. “If you say who your dad is, I’ll try to get you enrolled at MOA like you want.”

  She was careful not to actually promise she wouldn’t tell his secret. Would he notice?

  And she’d only said she’d try to help him to go to MOA. She hadn’t said how long he’d be able to stay after she helped enroll him. It might only be till Zeus sent him back with Hermes on his next delivery!

  Luckily, Phaeton seemed satisfied. Grinning, he held up a hand, and they high-fived. “Deal!”

  5

  Phaeton’s Dad

  SO? WHO’S YOUR DAD?” PHEME LEANED TOWARD Phaeton, waiting.

  “Not so fast.” Phaeton folded his arms, looking stubborn. “Convince Principal Zeus to let me into the Academy first. Then I’ll tell you.”

  “But—,” Pheme protested.

  Just then the anteater lunch lady came sniffing around. “Shoo, you two!” she told them. “I’m tracking down an ant infestation.” She stuck her long snout behind the tray return. Her eyes narrowed. Then came that sucking sound again.

  “Gotcha!” the lunch lady said gleefully.

  Pheme made a face. Blech!

  “All right,” she told Phaeton as they left their hideaway. “You win.”

  His expression brightened. “So we’ll go see Zeus right away?”

  “No!” she said. “We can’t let anyone see you till we’re ready.”

  “I’m ready now,” Phaeton said with a frown. “Can’t we just go ask him?”

  “That depends. Do you like being struck by thunderbolts?” she asked.

  “He wouldn’t do that,” Phaeton scoffed.

  “Well, okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration. But he hates being told what to do. He definitely might zap us a little if we just go in there and insist that he enroll you. Don’t worry, though. I’ve got a plan.”

  Pausing at the cafeteria exit, Pheme reached up to wave her cloud-words away as soon as she spoke them. Just in case the lunch ladies were looking.

  Then she turned to Phaeton and said, “Now hold still. I�
�m going to cast a spell over you.” Before he could protest, she began to chant:

  “Hide this boy from every gaze.

  Invisible make sure he stays.”

  “C’mon,” she told him then, pushing through the cafeteria doors.

  “Did you really just make me invisible?” he asked, following her.

  “Yep.”

  “Then how come it seems like you’re still looking right at me?”

  “Because you’re invisible to everyone except me,” Pheme replied. “But if you get more than ten feet away from me, you’ll automatically turn visible again. So don’t wander off.”

  When she started down the main hall, Phaeton stuck close, as ordered. She’d only recently perfected her invisibility spell. Good thing too, she thought as they began to climb the marble staircase to the upper floors. She was breaking all sorts of rules by skipping class and smuggling Phaeton upstairs. Boys weren’t supposed to go on the girls’ floor at all!

  They passed a godboy with a lizardlike tail who was heading downstairs. “Hey, who’s doing that? Stop it!” he suddenly yelped.

  Huh? Pheme glanced behind her just in time to see Phaeton lift his foot off the godboy’s tail.

  “Oops! Sorry,” she told the lizard boy quickly, pretending she’d been the one who’d stepped on his tail.

  The godboy only grunted and continued down the stairs. He was in her Revenge-ology class next period. Which reminded her that she was going to miss class. Which meant she would have to come up with an excuse for skipping to give Ms. Nemesis tomorrow.

  Maybe she could say that her absence had been a health issue? Because she’d absolutely die if she didn’t find out who Phaeton’s dad was! Okay, not really, really die. Immortals couldn’t die, after all. But finding out did feel like a matter of life and death to her right now.

  “Behave!” Pheme told Phaeton as they kept climbing. “Or else. I do know other spells, you know. Like how to turn an annoying boy into a frog.”

  As she waved away her cloud-words, he gave her one of his cheeky grins. “Okay, okay. I just wanted to see if I was weightless as well as invisible,” he said. “Guess not.”