Artemis the Brave (12 page)

Artemis’s eyes widened as Orion pushed through the crowd and tapped Zeus on his muscular shoulder. “Can I have a word, sir?” Though she was feeling pretty brave after her experience in the forest, even she wouldn’t have had the nerve to bother the principal just minutes before the show. Now was definitely
not
a good time.

“CAN’T YOU SEE I’M BUSY?” Zeus thundered in reply.

Artemis jumped, and even Orion seemed taken aback at the booming voice. He quickly recovered, though. “But it’s important.”

Zeus shot him an irritated glance, only then seeming to notice exactly who had tapped him. “YOU? YOU’RE THAT EXCHANGE STUDENT—ORNIE SLAR, RIGHT? WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK?”

“It’s O now,” Orion informed him helpfully. “Short for Orion Starr.”

“O?” Zeus demanded, raising a quizzical brow. “WELL, WHAT DO YOU WANT-O?”

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Orion stood on tiptoe to whisper something in Zeus’s ear that he obviously didn’t want anyone else to hear.

Whatever he said made Zeus’s bushy red brows ram together in a deep, angry V. “YOU’RE SORRY YOU LEFT US IN THE LURCH-O?” he said, his loud voice filling the theater. “YOU WANT TO KNOW IF I’LL GIVE YOU BACK THE LEAD ROLE?”

Artemis’s jaw dropped. Of all the conniving, double-dealing, underhanded moves! This marked a new low, even for Orion. How
dare
he? She’d never have offered him a ride if she’d known what he planned to do! Orion winced and hunched his shoulders, looking embarrassed that everyone in the theater now knew what he’d asked. Served him right. They were both risk takers, she and Orion. But there was a big difference between them. The risk she’d taken in the labyrinth today was to save her friends. Orion took risks only to benefit himself.

“NO CAN DO. THAT PART HAS BEEN FILLED—QUITE WELL-O, I MIGHT ADD—BY DIONYSUS,” Zeus informed him.

“Oh,” said Orion, looking momentarily at a loss.

Ignoring him, Zeus turned toward the performers and technicians clamoring for his attention. Each seemed to have a problem that required a solution before the play could begin. It must be hard being a principal, King of the Gods,
and
a director, thought Artemis. But Zeus was handling it, firing off suggestions and quick fixes with ease.

Nectar rolled over and put his head in Artemis’s lap, and she absently petted him. Meanwhile, Orion recovered and began trying to snag Zeus’s attention again, jumping up and down and clutching at his sleeve. He just wouldn’t give up!

But Zeus continued to ignore him in favor of students who actually did need his help. Artemis saw Hades and a lizard-tailed technician direct his attention upward, pointing at a cluster of seven overhead lights. As Artemis looked at them too, Persephone joined her. “Hades said some of the lights for the grand finale aren’t working,” she said, staring upward as well.

“I never realized that putting on a play could be so complicated,” said Artemis.

When she glanced back at Zeus again, Hades and the technician were speaking earnestly and seriously to him. But Zeus was staring at Orion now, who had turned to walk away in dejection, as if he had finally given up hope of regaining the principal’s attention.

Zeus shifted the scrolls he was holding in the crook of one arm and clapped his free hand onto Orion’s shoulder. “Ow!” Orion squeaked, as a tiny bolt of electricity from Zeus’s meaty fingers zapped through him.

“Hold on a minute,” said the principal. He grinned hugely, as if he and Orion were suddenly best friends.

Orion brightened. “Did you change your mind? Can I have the lead back?”

“No. But Hades gave me an idea. I think we can figure out something else—a special part, just for you.” Zeus turned and winked at Hades, who only looked confused.

“Mega-tastic!” Orion exclaimed. “I’ve memorized the entire script and am prepared to play any part.”

“Excellent!” Zeus clapped his arms around Orion’s and Hades’ backs.

“Ouch!” they said in unison as he began to lead them both backstage. Seeing his master slip away, Sirius bounded from the chariot to follow.

“I hope you’re not afraid of heights,” Artemis thought she heard Hades murmur to Orion. That didn’t make any sense. Maybe he’d said afraid of
lights
. But that made even less sense.

“Come on,” said Artemis, clapping her hands to wake Suez, Amby, and Nectar as she hopped from the chariot. “Let’s find someplace to sit before the play starts.”

“I wonder which part Zeus will give Orion,” Persephone said as they made their way up the theater aisle. “It doesn’t seem fair to take a role away from someone else.”

“Especially when Orion left everyone in the lurch in the first place,” said Artemis. They paused at a fountain, and the dogs lapped from its waters for several minutes. “Zeus wouldn’t be that unfair, would he?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Persephone said uncertainly.

Once the girls found seats, Artemis settled her hounds beside her. Just as she got them calmed down, the first lovely, clear notes of Athena’s flute sounded, signaling that the play was about to begin. After weeks of rehearsal and set building, the efforts of the cast and crew were finally going to be on display. Excitement swelled in her. She could hardly believe the big night had arrived!

The curtain swished open to reveal a backdrop of flower-covered mountainsides with a fire-breathing dragon, a centaur, and a beast or two lurking among them. The audience oohed and aahed. Many were seeing it for the first time. Aphrodite walked onto the stage. She was wearing a long, flowing blue chiton that matched her eyes, and there were flowers in her wavy blond hair. More oohs and aahs.

“Hey.” Artemis elbowed Persephone lightly. “Good job with Aphrodite’s hair,” she whispered. “It’s hard to believe she just fought a battle. She looks so beautiful.”

“Doesn’t she?” said Persephone. Her eyes were shining.

After Aphrodite spoke a few lines, Dionysus appeared onstage. He looked as handsome as always, wearing a white toga and carrying a red and gold archery bow. Artemis was relieved to see that Zeus hadn’t replaced him with Orion after all.

Aphrodite and Dionysus were so totally convincing that Artemis soon became lost in the play. She forgot she was watching actors. In her mind, her friends had truly become Psyche and Eros.

“There she is,” Eros whispered to himself onstage, spotting Psyche. He crept closer to her as she strolled through the forest, combing her long blond hair. Stealthily he lifted his bow, aiming a golden arrow of love at the beautiful mortal girl. “May this arrow not wound you, but rather make you fall in love with the ugliest creature on Earth.”

A deer ran across the stage then, surprising him the very moment he let his arrow fly. Dropping his bow, Eros accidentally shot himself in the foot with his own arrow. “Yeeouch!” His expression of dismay was so comical and believable that Artemis laughed out loud along with the rest of the audience. Of course this was exactly the way they’d rehearsed it. Eros was supposed to have this accident.

Persephone leaned over and giggled when he shot himself. “Remind you of anyone we know from the archery contest?”

“Hmm?” Artemis was so caught up in the play that the joke didn’t even register. She gasped as Eros ran to Psyche’s side and dropped to one knee. “I love you,” he proclaimed, clasping a hand over his heart. “Forever and ever.”

Pandora, in the role of a jealous goddess, swept in from the wings of the stage, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Fool!” she raged at Eros. “To punish you for failing to make Psyche fall in love with the ugliest creature on Earth, I will stop her from falling in love with anyone! In fact, I’ll make sure that no one on Earth falls in love ever again—from now until eternity.” She paused, then added, “Do you understand me?” Having rehearsed with Orion many times, Artemis knew that this last line wasn’t actually in the play. It seemed Pandora couldn’t resist asking at least one question.

“Good,” replied Psyche, raising her chin and drawing the goddess’s cruel gaze. “I’m happy without a boyfriend.”

“Yeah! You go, Psyche!” Artemis called out, punching her fist in the air. Persephone and the rest of the audience laughed at her outburst, and she grinned. Seriously, though, before she gave her heart again she was going to be sure she found a really great guy who deserved it.

The story was full of mischief and misunderstandings, and it flew by as fast as the arrows that Dionysus shot from his bow. All too soon it was time for the last scene, in which the trouble was reversed and everyone on Earth was falling in love again. Artemis felt tears burn at her eyes. She’d become so involved in the story that she’d momentarily forgotten that this was just a play. She felt so happy for the characters. If only
she
had been so lucky in love.

As the grand finale came to a close, the orchestra started to play a piece called “Seventh Heaven,” written by Apollo’s band. Above the stage, a pulley creaked, slowly towing something across the sky backdrop. Suddenly seven bright lights gleamed, hanging suspended high above the actors. No, they weren’t lights, but stars. A fake constellation!

“I wonder how they managed to do that,” whispered Persephone. “I thought Hades said those seven lights were broken.”

“Someone is up there holding them,” said Artemis. They squinted into the glare, trying to see who it was. “It’s Orion hanging from wires!” she and Persephone exclaimed at the same time. A big mirrored star had been pinned to each of his shoulders and two more were attached to his feet. Those four plus his three-star belt buckle shone brightly, reflecting the stage lights so he looked like a constellation.

Artemis grinned. “Well, Orion always said he wanted to be a star. Looks like Zeus made his wish come true. Times seven.”

Persephone giggled, bumping Artemis’s shoulder with her own.

Minutes later the play was over, and the curtains swept shut. Almost immediately they swung open again, and everyone cheered wildly as the entire cast of
The Arrow
came onstage from the wings. Artemis thought Apollo had done an admirable job as Psyche’s father, even if he did have only six lines. She caught his eye.
Good job
, she mouthed at him. Smiling, he nodded, looking pleased.

As the audience cheered and clapped, Suez, Amby, and Nectar woke up and joined in by howling their approval. After taking their bows, the actors waved and disappeared backstage.

The velvet curtain whooshed shut again, but the clapping continued. A moment later the curtain reopened to reveal three people—the two lead actors, Aphrodite and Dionysus, with Zeus between them. The three of them linked hands and took another bow. “Ow! Ow!” Aphrodite and Dionysus squeaked in unison as each received a small shock from Zeus’s hands.

The audience clapped louder than ever. Artemis was so proud of them that she jumped to her feet. Others followed suit giving the actors a standing ovation.

Friends and Pie

W
HEN THE CURTAIN CALLS FINALLY ENDED
, Artemis and Persephone ran down to the stage, followed by three bouncy hounds. The girls hugged Aphrodite and Athena. “Even though I’ve never seen a play before, I can guarantee that was the best one ever,” Artemis declared.

Aphrodite beamed at the praise. “Thanks!”

“C’mon. Let’s go celebrate your opening night!” said Persephone.

“Sounds great. I’m starving,” said Aphrodite.

“Me too,” said Dionysus, joining them. Apollo and Hades came along moments later, and the three godboys and four goddessgirls decided to go together to get snacks at the Supernatural Market. Aphrodite went to change her clothes backstage before she left, so the girls went with her and the boys walked on ahead.

“Hello?” a lonely voice called out as the four goddessgirls were leaving the deserted theater at last.

“Who said that?” asked Artemis, pausing to look around.

“It’s Orion! He’s still up there,” said Athena, pointing behind them. Everyone turned to gaze toward the stage. Sure enough, Orion still hung above it on the pulley, his seven stars glittering brightly against the dark backdrop. He looked so handsome there, his stars, eyes, and fake golden skin twinkling faintly.

Sirius sat on a bench, front row center, watching him as if he thought the play was still in progress.

“Why is he still up there?” asked Aphrodite.

“From the look on his face, I think he’s wondering the same thing,” said Persephone.

Suddenly Sirius began to howl. “I think there’s been some snafu with the rigging,” said Artemis.

Persephone wrinkled her brow. “Who’s going to get him down?”

Several stagehands came out and gathered below Orion, scratching their heads in puzzlement as they stared up at him. Zeus joined them, calling up encouragement to Orion. “Hang up there—I mean hang in there—and we’ll have you down in a flash.”

“Thanks . . .” Orion’s lonely reply echoed through the nearly empty theater.

“Do you think we should offer to help?” Athena asked.

Aphrodite cocked her head at Artemis. “It’s your call. Do we stay or go?”

Artemis thought about it, then shook her head. “Seems to me Orion’s getting the star treatment he deserves.” She smiled at her friends. “Anyone else ready for a nectar shake and some ambrosia pie?” Four hands shot up in the air, including her own.