Percy Jackson and the Greek Heroes

  Bellerophon saw a creature about the size of a woolly mammoth. In the front, it had the head and forepaws of a lion. The back half of its body was scaly and reptilian, with dragon legs and a snaky tail that for some reason had a rattlesnake’s head at the tip. The snake head lashed back and forth, snapping angrily at the air. Of course, if I was stuck on a monster’s rear end, I’d be a little cranky, too.

  The weirdest part of the monster was the goat head that poked straight up from its back like a periscope. It turned in almost a complete circle, spewing a hundred-foot-long column of fire.

  ‘Wow,’ Bellerophon muttered. ‘What do you think, Pegasus? Can we dive-bomb that thing?’

  Pegasus nickered as if to say, Dunno, kid. I’m immortal, but you? Not so much.

  Like any good hero, Bellerophon had brought along a sword and a spear. He readied the spear, since it was slightly longer, and spurred Pegasus into a dive. They got about twenty feet above the Chimera before the goat head saw them and shot fire.

  Pegasus banked so hard Bellerophon nearly fell off. The heat from the flames singed his arm hairs. The snake head spat a cloud of poison that made Bellerophon’s lungs hurt. The lion’s roar was so terrifying he almost blacked out.

  Only his flying steed saved him. Pegasus soared upward, out of danger, leaving a spiral of burning horse feathers in his wake.

  Bellerophon coughed the poison and smoke out of his lungs. ‘That was too close.’

  Pegasus snorted, Ya think?

  As they circled above, the Chimera watched them. The rattlesnake head hissed on the end of its tail. The lion bared its fangs and snarled. But the goat head scared Bellerophon the most. That thing was a barnyard animal of mass destruction.

  ‘We need a way to shut off those flames,’ Bellerophon said. ‘I could throw my spear down its throat, but it would just melt the point …’

  Suddenly Bellerophon had an idea. He remembered getting into trouble as a boy for burning down the dining hall. Before he’d spilled that oil, he’d been roasting marshmallows, enjoying the way they toasted and melted on the stick, turning to gooey yummy messes.

  Don’t choke on those, his mother always said. They’ll clog up your throat and kill you.

  ‘Huh,’ Bellerophon said to himself. ‘Thanks, Mom …’

  He scanned the ruins of the village. At the edge of Main Street, he spotted an abandoned blacksmith’s shop. He urged Pegasus into another dive. As soon as they landed at the shop, Bellerophon leaped off and began searching through the rubble.

  The Chimera saw them land. It roared and charged down Main Street as fast as its mismatched legs could carry it.

  ‘C’mon, c’mon,’ Bellerophon muttered. He yanked some fallen timber away from the forge. ‘Aha!’

  Next to the bellows sat a lump of lead the size of a pillow. Bellerophon could barely pick it up, but he staggered over to Pegasus and somehow managed to climb back on. They launched into the sky just as the Chimera sprayed the shop with fire.

  Pegasus grunted, straining to fly with the new weight. What’s the deal with the lead pillow?

  ‘You’ll see.’ Bellerophon bored his spear point into the chunk of metal. Fortunately, lead is soft. He was able to impale it firmly like a giant heavy marshmallow on a stick. ‘Pegasus, get me close enough to feed this to the goat.’

  With pleasure, Pegasus nickered. He dived once more.

  ‘Hey, Chimera!’ Bellerophon yelled. ‘You want a marshmallow?’

  The monster’s three heads looked up. The Chimera had never eaten a marshmallow before. They were incredibly hard to get in Tartarus. Sure enough, the mortal hero did appear to have a giant grey marshmallow on a stick.

  The Chimera’s three little brains had a brief argument over the pros and cons of accepting marshmallows from strangers. Bellerophon was only ten feet away when the goat head decided this was some sort of trick. Its mouth opened to melt Bellerophon’s face off, but the hero chucked his lead-on-a-stick right down the goat’s fiery throat.

  Pegasus veered to one side as the goat head choked, molten lead filling its lungs. The Chimera staggered. The lion and snake heads writhed in pain.

  Bellerophon jumped from Pegasus’s back and drew his sword. Amazingly, he managed to do this without stabbing himself.

  For the first time, Bellerophon felt like a true hero with working reflexes and motor coordination and everything. As the Chimera reared on its hind legs, ready to pounce, Bellerophon lunged underneath and drove his sword through the monster’s belly. The Chimera collapsed, its rear-end rattlesnake head still thrashing.

  ‘Boo-yah!’ shouted Bellerophon. He held up his hand to high-five Pegasus. The horse looked at him like, Please.

  For a souvenir, Bellerophon cut off the Chimera’s goat head with its steaming lead-coated mouth. He took a couple of selfies with the monster’s corpse. Then he rode Pegasus back to Lycia to tell King Iobates the good news.

  The king was delighted that the Chimera was dead, but he was shocked that Bellerophon had come back alive.

  ‘Now what am I supposed to do?’ Iobates wondered aloud.

  Bellerophon frowned. ‘Your Majesty?’

  ‘I mean … how can I possibly thank you enough? Well done!’

  That night, the king threw a big party in Bellerophon’s honour. They had cake and ice cream and clowns and magicians, though the king nixed the fire-swallowers as being in bad taste after the Chimera incident.

  Iobates and Bellerophon talked through the night. The king decided he truly liked this young hero. Iobates didn’t want to see him die, but he also wasn’t quite ready to dismiss his daughter Anteia’s letter asking for Bellerophon’s execution.

  Why? Maybe Iobates was worried that Bellerophon could present a threat to the kingdom. Or maybe Iobates was just a dad who hated saying no to his children, even if his children were sociopaths. Whatever the case, the king decided to give Bellerophon another challenge, just to make sure the Fates really wanted this hero alive.

  ‘You know, Bellerophon,’ he said over dessert, ‘I have no right to ask you any more favours, but …’

  ‘Anything, my lord!’

  Bellerophon meant it, too. He’d never felt like a hero before, and he enjoyed it. The people loved him. The king’s beautiful youngest daughter, Philonoe, had been flirting with him shamelessly, and he liked that, too. Most importantly, Iobates believed in him. The king had given Bellerophon a chance to prove himself. What a great guy!

  ‘If I can help you in any way,’ Bellerophon said, ‘I will do it. Just name the favour!’

  The crowd applauded and raised their glasses to Bellerophon.

  Iobates felt like a real jerk, but he forced a smile. ‘Well, this neighbouring tribe, the Solymoi – they’ve been causing all sorts of trouble on our eastern border. The Chimera killed my best men – except for you, of course – so I don’t have much of an army. I’m afraid the Solymoi will overrun the whole country if they’re not stopped.’

  ‘Say no more!’ said Bellerophon. ‘I will fly over there tomorrow and sort things out.’

  The crowd cheered. Princess Philonoe batted her eyelashes.

  Iobates heaped praise on the young hero, but inside the king felt bad.

  The Solymoi had never been conquered. They were blessed by the war god, Ares. In battle, they were absolutely fearless. Sending one guy to deal with them … that was suicide.

  The next day, Bellerophon hopped on Pegasus and flew off to fight the neighbours. Maybe he surprised them from the air. Maybe he’d just found his self-confidence, the way Athena had advised him. Iobates believed in him, so he believed in himself. Anyway, Bellerophon landed in the middle of the Solymoi camp and slaughtered them. After Bellerophon killed about half the tribe and threw the rest into a panic, the chieftain begged for peace. He promised never to attack Lycia again. He and Bellerophon signed a peace treaty and took a few selfies together for posterity. Then Bellerophon flew back to the palace.

  Again, King Iobates was amazed. The people of Lyci
a went wild with joy. That night they held another victory celebration. The princess Philonoe flirted with the young Corinthian and begged her father to arrange a marriage for them.

  Iobates was torn. Bellerophon was turning out to be super helpful. He was brave and strong and truly blameless. He hadn’t had a single accident since arriving in Lycia – no relatives killed, no dining halls burned down, not so much as an empty ship launched.

  Still … Anteia had asked for the young man’s death, and Iobates had trouble denying his homicidal eldest daughter anything. He decided to give Bellerophon one more dangerous challenge just to be absolutely, one-hundred-percent sure the hero had the Fates on his side.

  ‘My wonderful friend Bellerophon,’ said the king, ‘I hate to ask, but there is one more threat to this kingdom … No, it is too dangerous, even for such a hero as you.’

  ‘Name it!’ Bellerophon said.

  The crowd cheered wildly and banged their cups on the tables.

  ‘Well,’ said Iobates, ‘this particular nation is making war on all the cities of Anatolia. Perhaps you’ve heard of the Amazons?’

  The cheering died down. Bellerophon gulped. He had heard legends about the Amazons, all right. The name alone gave Greek children nightmares.

  ‘You – you want me to fight them?’

  ‘I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this mission,’ Iobates said, which was true. ‘If you could just get them to back off, like you did with the Solymoi, that would be amazing.’

  The next day Bellerophon flew off to battle. He couldn’t believe he would be facing the Amazons, but Iobates believed in him, and Bellerophon couldn’t let him down.

  Bellerophon flew straight into the Amazon encampment. He laid waste to their army. The Amazons were paralysed by shock. They simply couldn’t believe one stupid male could be so brave. By the time the Amazon queen was able to restore order, Bellerophon had killed hundreds of her best warriors.

  The queen called for a truce. Bellerophon agreed to leave the Amazons alone if they stopped raiding Lycia. The Amazons signed a peace treaty, which they rarely did, but they respected bravery, and Bellerophon the Blameless obviously had it. The Amazons wouldn’t take any photos with him, but that was okay. Bellerophon flew back to the palace in high spirits.

  When he knelt before the king and announced his victory, Iobates did something unexpected.

  The old man burst into tears. He slipped out of his throne, clasped Bellerophon’s ankles, and blubbered, ‘Forgive me, my boy. Forgive me.’

  ‘Uh … sure,’ Bellerophon said. ‘What did you do?’

  Iobates confessed the whole thing about Proitos’s death warrant. He showed Bellerophon the letter. He explained that the quests had really been attempts to honour his daughter’s wishes and get Bellerophon killed.

  The hero might have got angry. Instead, he pulled the king to his feet.

  ‘I forgive you,’ Bellerophon said. ‘Rather than kill me outright, you gave me chances to prove myself. You made me a true hero. How could I be mad about that?’

  ‘My dear boy!’ Iobates was so grateful he arranged for Bellerophon to marry his daughter Philonoe. Bellerophon was named heir to the throne. Years later, when Iobates died, Bellerophon became the king of Lycia.

  As for Anteia, she never got her revenge. When she heard that Bellerophon had married her younger sister and taken over her father’s kingdom, she was so upset she killed herself.

  And they lived happily ever after.

  Hahaha. Not really.

  By now, you’ve heard enough of these stories to know better. Bellerophon had one more major screw-up to get out of his system.

  After he’d been king for many years, Bellerophon started to miss the good old days. The crowds didn’t cheer for him like they used to when he killed the Chimera. Nobody remembered the way he’d defeated the Solymoi and the Amazons. When he told those stories at the royal banquets, his guests stifled their yawns. Even his wife, Philonoe, rolled her eyes.

  Funny how that happens. New heroes come along. The old ones are tossed aside. We forget the bad stuff from the past. We get nostalgic for the good old days – burning down palaces, getting sentenced to death by crazed queens.

  Bellerophon decided he needed one more adventure – a midlife-crisis quest to make everybody love him again and put some spice back in his life.

  He would fly higher than any hero had ever gone. He would visit the gods on Mount Olympus! He went to the palace’s highest balcony and whistled for Pegasus.

  The winged horse answered his call. They hadn’t seen each other in years. Pegasus looked no different, being immortal, but the horse was kind of shocked by how much Bellerophon had aged.

  Pegasus tilted his head. What’s up?

  ‘Oh, my friend!’ said Bellerophon. ‘We have one more quest to complete!’

  Bellerophon climbed onto Pegasus’s back and took the golden reins. Pegasus flew skyward, thinking they were off to fight Amazons or something.

  Berellophon spurred him in the wrong direction – west. Soon they were racing over the Aegean Sea, climbing into the clouds.

  Pegasus whinnied, like, Um, where are we going?

  ‘Mount Olympus, my friend!’ Bellerophon cried with glee. ‘We’re off to see the gods!’

  Pegasus grunted and tried to turn. He’d flown to Mount Olympus before and knew it was restricted airspace. Mortals definitely did not have clearance.

  Bellerophon held the reins steady. He forced Pegasus to fly higher and higher against his will. They’d always had a balanced relationship, the horse and Bellerophon, but now Bellerophon was calling the shots.

  He’d forgotten Athena’s warning from years ago: Don’t push your luck. DON’T DO THAT!

  All Bellerophon could think about was the glory he would achieve when he returned home with stories about the gods, and maybe some souvenirs for the kids.

  Meanwhile, on Mount Olympus, Hermes was standing on one of the balconies, enjoying a nectar frappe, when he saw Bellerophon winging his way up from the earth.

  ‘Uh, Zeus?’ called the messenger god. ‘Were you expecting a delivery?’

  Zeus joined him on the balcony. ‘Who is that? And why is he flying this way with that stupid grin on his face? Ganymede, fetch me a lightning bolt!’

  Hermes cleared his throat. ‘Ganymede is on lunch break, Lord Zeus. You want me to fly down there and smack the guy?’

  ‘No,’ Zeus grumbled. ‘I have another idea.’

  Zeus pulled a small tuft of vapour from the nearest cloud and fashioned a new kind of insect – the gadfly. If you’ve never seen one, you’re lucky. It’s basically the biggest, ugliest housefly you can imagine crossed with the nastiest, most bloodthirsty mosquito. It has razor-sharp mandibles designed to rip into horseflesh, which is why it’s sometimes called a horsefly.

  Zeus sent this new little bloodsucker down for its first meal. The gadfly bit Pegasus right between the eyes.

  Pegasus was immortal, but he could still feel pain. The gadfly’s bite was the worst thing he’d experienced since getting singed by super-goat flame breath.

  The winged horse bucked violently. Bellerophon lost the reins. He fell off and plummeted several thousand feet to his death.

  Pegasus felt bad about that. But, come on. Bellerophon should’ve known better than to fly to Mount Olympus. All it got him was an embarrassing death, and now the rest of us have to deal with gadflies.

  On the bright side, Bellerophon and Philonoe had three wonderful children. Of course their oldest son, Isandros, was later killed by Ares. Oh, and their oldest daughter, Laodameia, was killed by Artemis. Their youngest son, Hippolochos – he lived! But of course his son Glaucus (named after the old king of Corinth) was skewered by Ajax in the Trojan War. So yeah … basically Bellerophon and everybody related to him was murdered.

  The end.

  And, if you don’t like it, remember I didn’t make any of this up. You can just call me Percy the Blameless. It’s totally not my fault.

&nbsp
; Cyrene Punches a Lion

  As a demigod, I get a lot of questions: can Titans have demigod children? Has a mortal ever fallen in love with two different gods? What’s the proper way to kill a lion with your bare hands?

  Cyrene is great, because her story answers all that and more!

  She was born in Thessaly, part of northern Greece. You might remember her tribe, the Lapiths, from Theseus’s story. They liked partying, killing centaurs, watching Sunday football and destroying entire nations. The Lapiths were rough and rugged, so Cyrene grew up preferring spears to Barbie dolls and swords to Disney movies. Her friends knew better than to sing that song from Frozen, or she would pummel them unconscious.

  I like Cyrene.

  When she was young, her dad, Hypseus (possibly aka the Hipster), became king of the Lapiths. His grandfather was Oceanus, the Titan of the seas, which proves that Titans can have demigod children. And Hypseus’s dad was a river spirit. With those two godly connections, it’s no wonder that Cyrene’s body was made up of more than sixty percent water. That’s a higher percentage than the average human. Not that I’m judging. I’ve got plenty of saltwater in my system.

  (Annabeth says most of that saltwater is in my head. Very funny¸ Wise Girl.)

  Anyway, Cyrene grew up dreaming of war and conquest.

  She wanted to be a great fighter like her dad. She wanted to spend every Saturday slaughtering centaurs and every Sunday watching football with the guys! Unfortunately, Lapith women weren’t allowed to do any of the fun stuff.

  ‘Men wage war,’ said her father. ‘Women stay home. Just watch the sheep while I’m gone.’

  ‘I don’t want to watch the sheep,’ Cyrene grumbled. ‘Sheep are boring.’

  ‘Daughter,’ he said sternly, ‘if no one is there to guard the flock, the sheep will get eaten by wild animals.’

  Cyrene perked up. ‘Wild animals?’

  ‘Yes. Bears. Lions. Wolves. Occasionally dragons. All sorts of dangerous animals would love to eat our livestock.’

  Cyrene grabbed her spear and her sword. ‘I think I’ll watch the sheep.’