Uranus and the Bubbles of Trouble Page 4

  “Let’s get this straight,” the normally calm and easygoing Hestia said to Hephaestus. “You are not the boss of us! And I still say that Hera should get the apple.”

  Whoa, thought Zeus. He’d hoped Paris’s decision would put this whole contest thing behind them now that Aphrodite had the apple. Even if she hadn’t won it fair and square.

  “But Hera’s the one who started the bribing in the first place,” Hephaestus pointed out.

  “Just let Aphrodite keep it!” Ares chimed in. “She really is the fairest, anyway.”

  “You boys stay out of it!” Demeter complained.

  Artemis shook her head. “Choosing who’s the prettiest is dumb, anyway. We should have an archery contest to win the apple.”

  Hera spun around. “Why, so you can win?”

  “Why not a math contest, instead,” Athena suggested. “Or a history contest.” Which of course were contests a brainy girl like her could easily win.

  Apollo strummed his lyre. “We’ll never decide if we yell and shout. Perhaps instead we all should fight it out.”

  “Good plan!” Ares cheered.

  Hephaestus shook his head. “Are you sure you guys are really Olympians? Because you’re acting like a bunch of babies.”

  Finally, Zeus had had enough. “Just stop arguing, everybody!” he yelled. “At this rate we really will be fighting one another soon, and it won’t be pretty.” But nobody paid any attention to him. They went right on arguing.

  A thunderstorm will cool everyone down, he decided. He reached to pull Bolt out from his belt. But Bolt wasn’t there!

  Zeus groaned as he remembered tossing his thunderbolt up into the sky at Cronus and Uranus. How could he not have noticed that Bolt had never come back to him! “Bolt, return!” he called out now. But his magical object did not return.

  “Chip, help me find Bolt!” Zeus cried frantically. Normally, if he called Bolt’s name, Bolt was back in a flash. Something must be wrong.

  A green arrow appeared on Chip’s surface, and Zeus raced off in the direction it was pointing—right into the forest. Behind him, the other Olympians were still feuding. None of them even noticed him go.

  He ran and ran as he called for Bolt. Finally, deep inside the forest now, he stopped, his heart pounding. He couldn’t keep running after Bolt forever. The Olympians needed him. But he needed Bolt! How could he go on without his magical object?

  “What now, Chip?” he asked. Before the stone could answer, Zeus heard a loud rustling in the trees. Something was coming toward him—and from the way everything around him was shaking, it was something very, very big.

  Zeus froze as Cronus came into view. Leaves stuck out of his Titan father’s bushy beard, and his eyes were on fire with anger.

  Run! screamed a voice inside Zeus. Without Bolt, he had no chance of defending himself.

  But before he could move, Cronus calmed and held up a huge hand. “Stop! I am not here to harm you,” his dad said, peering down, down, down at Zeus.

  “Oh, really?” Zeus replied, looking up, up, up. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Just listen to my offer!” Cronus demanded. “Uranus wants me to destroy you, but that’s not what I want. Not anymore, anyway. Of all my children, only you have the strength to rule. With me.” Cronus got down on one giant knee. “Those other Olympians are squabbling ninnies. They’d argue over something as silly as a . . . a piece of fruit!”

  Fruit! As in a golden apple. His suspicions about Cronus sending Eris to make trouble among them had just been confirmed.

  “Why not leave your puny brothers and sisters behind and join me, Zeus.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘Barf Boy’?” Zeus shot back.

  Cronus chuckled. “ ‘Barf Boy’ is just an affectionate nickname . . . Son.”

  Zeus cocked his head at Cronus. “Really? ’Cause it has never felt very ‘affectionate’ to me.”

  “Never mind that now,” Cronus said. “Listen up, Zeus. Those other Olympians can do nothing for you. I’ve seen them arguing with you. They don’t appreciate your leadership.”

  Cronus did have a point. But this evil Titan had asked Zeus to join him before, and Zeus had stayed loyal to the Olympians. So why was Cronus asking him again?

  He’s growing afraid of us, Zeus realized. He thinks this is the only way he can keep us from eventually defeating him. In that case, maybe I should play along. . . .

  “I will consider your offer,” Zeus said carefully. “But only if you let me speak with my mother first!”

  Though Cronus was keeping Rhea captive, she had crept away whenever she could to help the Olympians. Zeus had spoken with her under cover of darkness, but he had never seen her face.

  Cronus stroked his beard, thinking over Zeus’s request. “Wait here,” he said finally.

  He stomped off and soon disappeared into the trees. Zeus waited anxiously for several minutes. Finally, he heard rustling again, and softer footsteps than Cronus’s.

  A beautiful Titan emerged from the trees and walked toward him. Her thick, brown hair was coiled on top of her head, and was topped with a silver crown. She wasn’t as tall as Cronus or as mean-looking, either. Her brown eyes were large and kind, and she looked plump and soft and . . . nice. Rhea.

  “Zeus,” she said, and her eyes filled with happy tears. “Cronus has granted us a few moments alone.”

  Zeus ran to her and wrapped his arms around her legs. She smelled like a combination of roses and freshly baked bread. “Mom,” he said, choking back tears.

  Rhea kneeled so she was eye to eye with him. “You have grown into such a fine boy, Zeus. Brave and strong and wise.”

  “Cronus keeps asking me to join him,” he told her. “And if I did, I could be with you all the time.”

  Rhea smiled gently. “We will be together one day, Son. But it cannot be now. You must return to the Olympians. They need you.”

  “Huh? They never even listen to me anymore!” Zeus complained. “They’re always fighting. And when I do help them, they never appreciate it.”

  “Being a leader is a thankless job,” Rhea said, surprising him.

  “You got that right,” he muttered. His mom totally understood him!

  “But you are more important to them than they yet realize, and you must stick with them. You must lead the Olympians whether it seems they want you to or not.”

  Zeus nodded slowly. He felt in his heart that his mother was right.

  “Come with us,” he urged. “We can escape before Cronus—”

  Stomp! Stomp!

  Zeus fought back tears again as Cronus returned to the clearing. Rhea smiled sadly and stroked his hair. “We will meet again,” she promised softly, and then she rose to her feet.

  Reluctantly, Zeus stepped back from her.

  “Well? Did you convince our boy to join me?” Cronus asked Rhea.

  Rhea faked a disappointed sigh and shook her head. “I tried,” she fibbed.

  “Never!” Zeus yelled up at Cronus. “Not in a Crony-zillion years would I ever do that! You can bug off, you big-bellied bully!” With a grin, he added, “Oh, and I meant that nickname ‘affectionately,’ Dad.”

  Heart pounding, he tore off as fast as his feet could take him. Cronus pounded behind him. He would surely try to crush Zeus if he caught up!

  Zeus was small and quicker, though. He jumped over roots and boulders as he headed for his friends. And then he stopped in his tracks. Because there, stuck in a rock, was a shining, thunderbolt-shaped dagger. Bolt!

  Of course! Bolt was unable to pull himself out of stone on his own. Zeus ran to the rock. With an easy tug, he pulled his thunderbolt out. He was the only one alive who could do that. It was how he’d gotten Bolt in the first place, in the Temple at Delphi.

  “Bolt, large!” he yelled. Instantly, the dagger grew as tall as Zeus. Now his thunderbolt sizzled with energy in his hand. It made him feel good—strong and powerful.

  Zeus grabbed Chip. “Which way back to the Olympians?” h
e asked, and the green arrow appeared once more. But instead of following Chip’s directions, Zeus went down a different path. After a few paces, he stopped and swung his thunderbolt first at one tree and then another, and yet another farther on. The trees crashed to the forest floor. He hoped this might trick Cronus into thinking he’d gone in this direction.

  Finally, he headed off in the true direction Chip had indicated, toward the Olympians. As he jogged along, Zeus zigzagged among the trees until he broke out of the forest.

  He slowed down when he saw a young boy nailing a scroll to a tree. Curious, Zeus stopped. The boy’s hazel eyes looked sad as they watched Zeus silently read the scroll.

  LOST. One furry brown puppy. The most beautiful puppy in the world. Please return to Menelaus.

  Zeus turned to the boy. “Your puppy. Was she brown?”

  The boy nodded eagerly. “Have you seen her?”

  “Maybe,” Zeus said. “My friends found a brown puppy in the village.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell Menelaus that if it was the same puppy, Prince Paris had her now.

  “Come with me,” he told the boy. “I’ll take you to talk to my friends.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Menelaus said happily. “I got my puppy for my birthday. Her name is Helen, and she’s my best friend in the whole world.”

  Zeus hoped they could find the prince. If Menelaus took the puppy back, maybe Paris would finally decide which Olympian was the fairest and all the fighting among them would stop.

  As it turned out they were in luck. When they reached the arguing Olympians, they also found Paris. He hadn’t gone far. Having tied his horse to a nearby tree, he was sitting on a rock beside the Olympians, listening to them squabble while happily holding the squirming puppy on his lap.

  “Helen!” Menelaus cried. He ran toward the puppy with open arms.

  Paris hugged the puppy tight to his chest and eyed Menelaus suspiciously. “Who’s Helen?” he asked.

  “My puppy,” Menelaus explained. “She got lost. Thanks for taking care of her for me.” He held out his arms expectantly.

  But Paris did not loosen his grip. “Aphrodite found her and gave her to me,” he said firmly. “So she’s my puppy now. See how much she likes me?”

  “No fair!” Menelaus exclaimed. “You can’t have her! Helen’s mine. She’s the winner of the grand-prize trophy for the most beautiful puppy in all of Greece!”

  “Sorry, but I’m taking her back to Troy with me,” Paris shot back.

  Menelaus balled his hands into fists. “You’ll give her to me, or I’ll make you!” he threatened.

  Great, thought Zeus. Just great. By bringing Menelaus back with him, he’d made things worse instead of better!

  As their exchange grew more heated, the Olympians stopped arguing with one another and turned to watch Paris and Menelaus. Aphrodite must have heard Paris telling Menelaus that she’d given him the puppy. She ran up to the two boys now, amid a flurry of sparkly bubbles.

  “Oh no, this is all my fault!” she said. “I’m sorry, Paris. Since the puppy was running loose, I thought she didn’t belong to anyone. Guess I made a mistake. You have to give her back to this boy.”

  “No way!” Paris cried. “I am the Prince of Troy! And Trojans don’t do give-backs.”

  “You’re Prince Puppy Stealer, that’s who you are!” cried Menelaus.

  “And you’re lying so hard that your fancy pants are on fire!” Paris yelled.

  Startled by the yelling, the puppy squirmed and wiggled her way out of Paris’s arms. Then she scampered down the path away from the village.

  “Helen!” cried Menelaus and Paris at the same time, and they both chased after her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Stuck on Aphrodite

  People of Greece, help me!” Menelaus called out to the villagers he passed. “The Prince of Troy is trying to steal my puppy!”

  Instantly coming to the aid of one of their own, the villagers swarmed onto the path and joined in the chase.

  “Come on!” Zeus shouted to the other Olympians. “We started this, so we’d better fix it.” This time everyone listened to him, and the Olympians sped after the puppy and the two boys, too.

  When they caught up to Paris, he was clutching Helen in his arms and heading toward the sandy coastline. Zeus could see a small sailing ship anchored near the shore that was flying a Trojan flag. It must be waiting to take Paris back to Troy! Paris reached the boat and jumped in.

  Menelaus wasn’t far behind him. “Don’t you dare take Helen!” he yelled.

  “Row!” Paris commanded the sailors aboard. They swiftly pushed off from shore.

  Menelaus splashed into the water, shaking and sputtering as he realized Paris had gotten away. And taken Helen with him! “I will get you, Paris of Troy!” he yelled. “I will not rest until I get my puppy back!”

  Then he spun around. “You!” he snarled, pointing at Zeus and the Olympians, who were now standing on the sand behind him. “I can’t believe you gave my puppy away. And to an outsider—a Trojan!”

  “It was a mistake,” Aphrodite reminded him. “We didn’t know she was your puppy.”

  “Traitors!” Menelaus spat out.

  A cry went up among the villagers. “Crush the enemies of Greece!” someone shouted.

  “What? We’re not enemies of Greece,” Zeus protested. “We’re trying to save Greece!”

  But the angry crowd didn’t listen. With a mighty roar they rushed toward the Olympians. Zeus turned and shouted an order that he had given to his friends many times before: “Run!”

  The Olympians dashed up the coastline away from the village. One of the advantages of being ten years old was that they were almost always faster than the grown-ups chasing after them.

  Once they had a big lead, Zeus checked Chip. “Any hiding places around here?” he asked the magical stone.

  Chip’s arrow pointed to a hilly area nearby, and Zeus led the others there. By the time they reached the hills, however, the angry mob had run out of steam and turned back toward their village.

  The Olympians stopped, panting. Poseidon flopped onto the grass. “Squishy squids! I hate these high-speed chases!” he complained.

  Hades rubbed his belly. “I shouldn’t have eaten so much cheese,” he groaned. “My stomach aches.”

  Zeus sighed. “That was a close call.”

  “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t brought Menelaus to us,” Hera said with a frown.

  Duh. Tell me something I don’t know, Zeus thought. But he wisely held his tongue.

  “Where did you disappear to, anyway?” Ares asked.

  Zeus hesitated. Should he tell everyone? But somehow he knew he had to. If the Olympians were going to work together, they couldn’t have secrets.

  “I went to find Bolt,” Zeus began. “And Cronus found me. He asked me to leave you guys and rule with him.”

  Poseidon jumped up. “Bro! I hope you said no.”

  “Of course I said no,” Zeus said, feeling a little bit insulted. Sure, he’d been tempted a teeny-tiny bit, but he would never betray the Olympians. Never!

  “But I thought he wanted to destroy you,” said Hades. “All of us.”

  “Maybe Cronus thought that without Zeus, we’d fall apart,” guessed Hera.

  “Well, we probably would,” Hestia said matter-of-factly.

  Zeus smiled at her, glad for her support. Then, speaking to everyone, he said, “Cronus sent Eris and her golden apple to destroy us from within by making us fight. He knows that if he separates us, he can defeat us.”

  Athena nodded. “Makes sense. And it almost worked. For a while there, I was supermad at each and every one of you.”

  “Then we all agree: The only way we can defeat Cronus and the Titans is if we work together,” Zeus said. “And to do that you all need to trust me. Because I’m your leader.”

  He looked squarely at Hephaestus when he said that last part.

  The boy shrugged. “You can have the job,” h
e said. “Leading this bunch is like herding wildcats.”

  “So no more arguments about the apple?” Zeus asked them all.

  Nobody objected, but Hera and Athena both glared at Aphrodite, who had been playing with the apple again. She tucked it away and tapped Zeus on the shoulder.

  “May I speak with you, please?” she asked.

  Zeus nodded, and they stepped aside.

  “I really want to be friends with the other girls,” Aphrodite said. “But I don’t think they like me.”

  “Here’s a suggestion,” Zeus said after considering the problem. “Why don’t you share the apple with them?”

  Aphrodite flashed him her dazzling smile. “What a good idea!”

  She approached Hera and Athena. “This should belong to all three of us,” she said, holding out the apple. “We can take turns, each owning it for a day. Hera, do you want to go first?”

  “Sure,” Hera said with a big grin. But when she tried to take the apple from Aphrodite’s hand, it wouldn’t budge!

  Hera’s eyes narrowed. “Is this some kind of joke? Because it isn’t funny.”

  “It’s not, I swear!” Aphrodite protested. She tossed the apple into her other hand. “See? It’s not stuck.”

  “Let me try,” offered Athena. But when she tried to take the apple from Aphrodite, she couldn’t do it either. Once again it stuck to Aphrodite’s palm.

  Hera shook her head. “Maybe you were just born yesterday, but we weren’t. You can’t trick us.”

  “I don’t think she’s tricking us,” Athena said. She tapped her chin, deep in thought. After a moment she said, “I wonder if that apple could be connected to her, and only her, somehow.”

  Hearing her words, it hit Zeus. “Aphrodite, that golden apple is your magical object!”

  As the others murmured things like, “Well, of course!” and “We should have realized it earlier!” and “That explains a lot!”

  Aphrodite looked down at the apple in wonder. “It’s magical? What can it do?”