The Dig (25 page)

―We have to get out of here!‖ I cry.

―If we dig to the surface, the other gods will be right there, waiting for us.‖―Zeus,‖ I shout, having shed every notion of myself as some unafraid, canyoneering type of nature girl. ―Please just
go!
‖ I grab on to him, hoping that I have a hold on his wings underneath the worms, and he yelps as we tunnel up through the dirt. I am pushing the dirt aside in a panic, shifting directions whenever boulders appear.

But still we‘re moving too slowly to strip the worms from us. They keep trailing along with us, squirming sickeningly against our skin and hair, and suddenly I remember the trick from when I was running, using the dirt to propel me forward faster. I concentrate and use the dirt beneath us to launch us upward; we rise up as if in an elevator, and the earth is wetter and heavier and goopier and finally the worms are losing their grip. They can‘t move as fast as us. Up, up we go. There are no boulders anymore. Soon we reach the open air, and I have the fire of vengeance in me. I, Zoe Calder, will show Artemis that you can‘t choke us out with worms and get away with it.

―Take a deep breath,‖ Zeus says.

There‘s no time to ask why because all at once the goop thins out and with a crash we burst into a world of water. We‘re at the very bottom of a lake—I can taste the freshness of the water—and it‘s dark and deep and I‘m flailing and short of breath. My eyelids flutter and I‘m panicking and Zeus swims to me and cups my face in his hands and brings his lips to mine.

Oxygen. I inhale the lifesaving air and then we part and, joining hands, kick our way toward the surface. Our eyes are fixed at the darkness above. It can‘t stay that dark forever. Every lake has a surface and we‘ll be there soon.

But the light won‘t come and my lungs are straining, threatening to pop. I can feel death coming for me, for both of us.

Then Zeus shakes his arm and I look up and there it is: the light.

We‘re floating and we‘re breathing and air has never tasted so sweet.

Still gasping, I manage a smile. ―We made it.‖ His face darkens and he says, ―So did they.‖

I turn around and see them, the six angry gods all lined up on the shore of the lake where Zeus and I first met. They stand side by side, waiting for me to try to escape. I‘m treading water and it‘s harder every second to stay afloat. My boots are heavy and my lungs are shot and I don‘t want to fight anymore.

―Can‘t we just fly away?‖ I whimper.

―They‘ll just come after us.‖

―But they can‘t fly.‖

―But they can do other things, Zoe.‖ He shakes his head. ―There‘s no way out.‖

I don‘t like this. I don‘t like Zeus scared and I don‘t like being trapped in the water. Stone lily pads won‘t do much against the full power of Poseidon.

―Zoe,‖ he says, grabbing both my arms. ―You have to stay calm. We‘re about to begin a battle.‖

Before I can tell him that the battle began a while ago, when I first met these obnoxious, cliquey gods, I feel something wrap around my leg and I groan and lunge for Zeus, shaking myself free.

―I swear there was something on my leg.‖ I want him to tell me I‘m just paranoid and nervous but he looks at me with fear in his eyes. ―An octocost.‖

―You mean ‗octopus‘?‖

―I wish.‖

And it‘s back again, yanking me below the surface. I try to break free but its grip is strong and it‘s pulling me down fast. It looks like an octopus crossed with a piranha, and one of its toothy appendages retracts and hurtles toward me. Oh god, I‘m going to die, here it comes. I swerve with all the power I have left and the toothy thing grazes past my neck, just missing me. Now I‘m flailing my arms in a helpless panic, trapped in the water, unable to breathe or scream or save myself. I‘m too worked up to hold my breath and I see Zeus‘s wings span and rise and he‘s gone,
swoosh
, out of the water.

He‘s left me. He‘s left me to die like this? I feel my lungs compress and my eyes start to drift shut. I think of those pompous gods on the beach, and with my last breath I will all the sand to rise and choke them.

And then, without explanation, the octocost suddenly explodes, blasted to bits. I‘m free and Zeus is sweeping me into his arms.

―Lightning?‖ I say.

―You‘re welcome.‖

While the gods are struggling for air in the sandstorm, Zeus and I swim for the shore. I‘m going as fast as I can but I‘m lagging way behind. Why didn‘t I stay in swim class? I think of all those times at Greeley when I pretended I was sick to avoid wearing a bathing suit in front of the other kids. You really can‘t live life worrying about what other people might think of you, because then you find yourself swimming to save your life and knowing that you would be swimming a lot faster if you had mastered the crawl.

But it‘s no matter anyway because now the beach is on fire—Hades has ignited the entire span of it—and the gods are bounding into the water, where, awaiting them, are six bobbing dolphins.

―Dolphins? Zeus, dolphins are good animals.‖

―There‘s no such thing as a ‗good‘ animal, Zoe. They all worship Artemis.‖

―But dolphins are smart. You know, the way that monkeys are smart.

They know good from evil.‖

―Maybe in the future,‖ he says. ―Hold on to me. Tight.‖ I wrap myself around him as the gods ride the dolphins like Jet Skis, racing toward us.

―Are you good?‖

―Yes! Go!‖

We zoom out of the water and fly up into the air—but the water is coming with us.

Poseidon is manipulating it, sending it up after us, and it‘s gaining. I‘ve never seen anything so beautiful and ugly all at once, almost an entire lake on edge, like saltwater taffy stretched longer and thinner; the dolphins are nearly perpendicular to earth as they soar up the lake toward us, toward the sky that we can‘t seem to reach, that we won‘t reach because the water is at our feet, then our ankles, then our knees…

But before the water can take us, the darkness swallows us whole. We are falling. I reach for Zeus and he‘s not there. He‘s gone. Did Hera get him? I don‘t know. I can‘t know. I can‘t see and I can‘t hear and I can‘t think, not with the wind whipping at me and carrying me away.

Athena. Of course.

At least their arrogance means that I have one chance after another to survive. Athena is the goddess of wind. When she blew me away from Zeus, she could have just thrown me against a cliff. She could have ended me right there. Just splat into a wall and gone once and for all.

―Why didn‘t you just throw me into the wall, Athena?‖

―I‘d never,‖ she says. ―I‘d rather kill you myself.‖

―Why? So you can feel superior to Hera?‖

―Of course.‖

The top of the cliff is no bigger than a boxing ring and we‘re circling each other like fighters. There is no protective perimeter of rope and to fall would mean to die. I have to keep her talking.

―That‘s the problem with you kids and your cliques,‖ I say. ―You don‘t have any real friends. You‘re all just trying to be the boss.‖

―The only person here who doesn‘t have any friends is you, Zoe.‖ I stop walking. I‘m not afraid anymore. ―You could have been my friend. You still could. I know you‘re not like her. Not really.‖ And for a moment, Athena is still. The wind stops and the air clears and everything might be okay. Really, it might. I‘m still an optimist at heart, still believing that people can change, that we all have goodness inside us.

―Zoe,‖ she says. ―I‘m sorry.‖

Now the hail comes, blowing just for me, and I‘m running and using the earth to make me run faster but I don‘t seem to be getting anywhere.

The wind grows stronger and my cheeks burn from the friction and my skin feels like it‘s cracking into pieces and my ribs are pressed into my back and I could do a marathon in three minutes at this pace. The only reason I know that my brain hasn‘t been blown back into my skull is that somehow, someway, even though I‘ve only been moving for minutes, I‘m on Olympus. I‘m catching my breath, looking around, trying to figure out where exactly I am. I can see the river leading up past the garden and toward the small natural pool where I found Hera kissing Zeus. I start to run downhill, but the ground doesn‘t feel right and I still don‘t have my bearings, not completely. I take a step but it‘s too crackly. I look down. I see something golden, something I‘ve held before. It‘s a piece of Zeus‘s wing.

―No.‖

The wing is hot in my hands, which makes no sense because it came from the ground and the ground—

Is on fire.

I scream. But the only answer I get is the howl of a wolf, a wolf I can‘t see because I am plunged into pitch-black darkness.

Hera.

She lifts the darkness but there is no relief in the light. I‘m surrounded.

We are at the top of Olympus now, in the courtyard with the natural pool, and Hera leans against a skinny marble column, a few feet away from the giant rock, the Petros. She yawns, filing her nails, as if this is just another ordinary day. Athena and Poseidon wait attentively by her side.

Ares and Artemis stand a few feet behind me, blocking the pathway, and Hades circles the grounds. I‘m trapped in a ring of fire that grows tighter with his every step. They‘re going to burn me alive and it‘s going to be long and slow and painful.

―Where is he?‖ I shout.

Hera tilts her head and says, ―Where is who?‖

―Zeus.‖

―You‘re
still
asking about him. Oh dear, what will it take for you to understand?‖

It‘s getting hotter. Sweat is trickling down my neck and I can‘t help but flinch from the crackle of the oncoming flames. I can‘t believe it‘s all going to end this way. I will the earth to put out the fire but every time a layer of dirt rises to quench it, Athena blows it away. I try to will some nearby rocks onto the flames to stamp it out but Ares is quick on his feet, and smashes the rocks away. The power of numbers is not to be underestimated.

―It doesn‘t have to be this way,‖ I shout. ―Hera, I know you‘re a good person deep down.‖

―What‘s that, Zoe?‖ She‘s mocking me, pushing her ear toward me. ―I can‘t hear you over the sound of your imminent death.‖ In the distance I see the other five gods approaching. They look scared and nervous, unwilling to challenge Hera in her moment of power. Soon all the gods but Zeus are watching me with a mixture of gloating and disquiet.

―Hera, you can do the right thing.‖

―This
is
the right thing, dear. For us.‖ With a sneer, she gestures to Hades, and the circle of fire closes in on me. I‘m drenched in sweat, and I can‘t help but wonder what will happen when the flames reach my skin.

Will I see my own flesh set on fire, or will Hera use her powers to let me burn in darkness?

That‘s it!
Her powers
.

I close my eyes and concentrate, reaching out with my mind, ignoring the snakelike flames nipping at my boots. It‘s a dangerous move. It might not even work. But I have to try. After all, I‘m not one of them. I‘m a human. I‘m used to not having any powers.

I picture the Petros, the source of all their wrongs and abuses and powers. I can feel it nearby. It‘s just a big rock, like any other piece of earth.

Why didn‘t I realize it before? It‘s
rock
. I reach deep into the center of it with my mind, the heavy, luminous strangeness of it.

Then I blow it up.

I drop for cover just before tiny shards of the Petros fly outward in a wild explosion, piercing all the gods, knocking them to the ground like bowling pins. But it is Hera, standing only feet away from the Petros, who receives almost the entire brunt. She lets out a horrifying scream as thousands of Petros slices embed themselves in her body.

She collapses in a heap.

The fire is out. I know I should run for my life but I can‘t move yet.

Right now I can only bow my head in silence, mesmerized by the sight of the fallen gods.

Olympus is different. I can feel it; the explosion has changed the electricity in the air. Without the Petros, things will be forever different.

All that fighting wasn‘t really about me. They don‘t hate me. Even Hera doesn‘t hate me.

They‘re all just sadly dependent on their powers and now I‘ve made their worst fears come true.

I‘ve stripped them of their powers. I run my hand over the piece of Zeus‘s wing. Then I hear a scratching noise and I look at the ground and it‘s his hand; I‘d recognize it anywhere. He‘s covered in rubble and dirt, but when I try to part the ground, nothing happens, so I dig him out the old-fashioned way, by hand.

He struggles to come up for air, and at last he breaks through the surface and his beautiful face is caked in dirt but I don‘t care and I kiss him.

―It‘s fine now,‖ I say. ―We‘re safe. The Petros is gone.‖

―No, Zoe,‖ he says. ―It‘s all in Hera.‖

We‘re running. Fleeing. We don‘t have powers. We don‘t have anything but each other.

The foliage is thick and Zeus is explaining that what I‘ve done isn‘t as simple as I‘d hoped. Now there is a grave imbalance. Now Hera is more powerful than ever. With all that Petros in her, she‘ll be unstoppable when she wakes up. ―If you thought she was bad now, just wait.‖

―Where are we going?‖

―To the temple. Where you first appeared.‖

―Wait,‖ I say, putting my hand on his arm. ―When did I tell you about the temple?‖

―You didn‘t,‖ he says. ―Hera did. She told me everything you said to her. Why do you I think I had to let her kiss me? Zoe, she didn‘t mean to, but she was telling me how to save your life.‖

―Zeus,‖ I say. I know it‘s really not the time for kissing or hugging or anything like that, what with the temporarily unconscious killer ex-girlfriend goddess and the whole I-almost-just-died vibe that won‘t quite go away…but I kiss him anyway. You only live once.

―We have to go,‖ he says.

―How much time do we have?‖

―Not enough,‖ he says.

The image of a vengeful Hera crackling with power from the freshly blasted Petros is a strong motivator, and I‘m sprinting for the temple.

We‘re retracing my first steps in ancient Greece and seeing it all again is dizzying—the bustling village, the men and women zipping around in their togas, the togas I thought were costumes once upon a time. I see the boy I met that first day and he looks up from his ball game and I smile at him and open my mouth to say hello but there‘s no time and he waves, and I‘ll remember that confusion on his face forever, the way he doesn‘t even flinch when the ball hits him square in the belly, how stunned he is to see me, the strange girl from the other day, the one who made the earth open up. And as we near the edge of the village, I smile in anticipation of who I‘ll see next, and there she is, the old woman with the crazy teeth and her gaggle of friends, gossiping and whispering the same as ever, but they don‘t notice me this time and they‘ll only hear about this later, in awe that I fled town with Zeus, never to be seen again.