‘There!’ Medea said, her face aglow with victory. ‘I told you we would make it!’
The crew wouldn’t even meet her eyes. Jason tried to act grateful, but he was horrified. Who was this woman he had agreed to marry?
Now, kids, if you try to sail up the Danube River to get to Greece, you will end up in Germany. But somehow the Argonauts figured out a way. Probably they hauled the ship out of the water at some point, rolled it on logs to another river, then sailed through northern Italy right down to the Adriatic.
Along the way, they passed the lake where Phaethon had crash-landed. The Argonauts had been through so much, they just looked at the spot where Phaethon’s body was still boiling and fuming under the water, and they thought, Yep, that guy got off easy.
When they reached the sea, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Monsters attacked. Storms tossed them back and forth. The winds didn’t cooperate and the ship’s soft-serve ice-cream machine finally broke down.
‘The gods are punishing us.’ Argus glared at Medea. ‘It’s all her fault.’
‘Be quiet,’ Jason warned. ‘Without Medea, we’d all be dead.’
The crew muttered behind Jason’s back, but they were too afraid and too dispirited to mutiny. The ship’s magical prow had been giving them the silent treatment for weeks. Even the Golden Fleece, now nailed to the mast, no longer cheered them up. If the Fleece had any helpful magic, it sure wasn’t sharing it.
The Argonauts had a few more close calls. They passed the island of the Sirens, whose magical singing could convince sailors to jump overboard and drown themselves. Fortunately, Orpheus launched into a Jimi Hendrix number that was, like, three hours long and drowned out the Sirens until the ship was safely out of earshot.
They landed at Corfu in western Greece and almost got captured by Colchian bounty hunters, but the local queen stepped in to mediate. She decreed that Medea could not be taken back to Colchis if she was legally married to Jason. The couple got hitched in a hasty ceremony, and the queen let them go.
After that, the Argo was tossed around the Mediterranean for weeks until the crew had no idea where they were. Completely out of food and water, they anchored off the shore of an unknown island.
‘It doesn’t matter where this is,’ Jason said. ‘We have to get supplies.’
Jason led the landing party, which included Medea.
They were in the woods, filling their jugs at a river, when they heard a strange rumbling sound from the direction they’d come – like massive gears grinding.
‘What is that?’ asked Polydeuces. ‘Is Orpheus playing Hendrix again?’
The old shipwright Argus turned pale. ‘That metallic sound … like joints creaking … Oh, gods, no. Could this island be Crete?’
From the shore came a massive KA-SPLOOSH! followed by drumming as the Argonauts were called to their oars.
The landing party dropped their water jars and ran for the beach. When they got to the tree line, they froze in terror. A hundred yards away stood a living bronze statue as tall as a castle tower. He was dressed like a warrior. His blank metal face betrayed no emotion, but he was definitely looking at the Argo, which was now rocking in the waves a quarter mile offshore.
The giant bronze man knelt and ripped the nearest boulder from the beach – a rock as big as the ship itself. He hurled it towards the Argo. The boulder missed by a few feet, but the wave nearly capsized the boat.
‘It’s Talos,’ Jason said. ‘He’s going to destroy the ship!’
‘What is Talos?’ Medea demanded. ‘Who in their right mind would make such a thing?’
Jason could barely hear her through the ringing in his ears. ‘Hephaestus made it for King Minos. The statue walks around the island of Crete three times a day, guarding against pirates. If Talos sees a ship he doesn’t recognize –’
‘My ship!’ Argus cried. ‘We have to stop him!’
Polydeuces pulled the old man back. ‘That thing is huge! Our weapons won’t work against it!’
‘I have an idea,’ said Medea.
Polydeuces cursed. ‘I hate it when she says that!’
‘Just listen. I’ve seen the works of Hephaestus before. Usually they are animated with molten lead for blood. There should be a safety valve from when the statue was first filled up.’
‘There!’ Jason pointed. Sure enough, on the statue’s left heel was a circular plug the size of a shield.
‘I will distract the statue,’ Medea said. ‘You run out and open that valve!’
Before they could debate the matter, Medea sprinted across the beach. The statue Talos picked up another boulder. He lifted it to throw just as Medea began to sing.
Talos turned and stared down at her.
Medea’s voice didn’t waver. She invoked the god Hypnos and sang of cold forges, well-oiled joints, comfy metal blankets and whatever else giant bronze statues might dream about.
Talos could’ve dropped the rock and crushed her flat, which would have saved Jason a lot of trouble later on. Instead, the statue listened, confused and sluggish. Jason skirted the beach and ran up behind the monster. He jammed his sword into the edge of the plug and popped it open, breaking his blade in the process.
Molten lead almost incinerated him. He leaped sideways, his clothes peppered with steaming holes as the statue’s blood gushed out, turning the beach into the world’s largest lead mirror. Talos reeled and stumbled.
The giant dropped his boulder and fell face first, hitting the ground so hard that Jason’s teeth shook and his eyeballs rattled.
When Jason came to his senses, Medea was standing over him, smiling. ‘Well done, husband. Can I interest you in a few million pounds of scrap metal?’
The Argonauts gathered food and water and sailed for home before old King Minos could figure out who broke his favourite toy soldier.
Finally, after what seemed like years (because it had been years), the Argo reached home and docked at Iolcus.
The locals held a huge party for the returning Argonauts. They paraded down Main Street with the Golden Fleece and hung it in the town square. Jason and Medea went to the palace in triumph, where old King Pelias was not exactly thrilled to see them.
‘Well done!’ he said half-heartedly. ‘So, um … okay, then! Thanks for bringing us the Fleece.’
‘My throne,’ said Jason. ‘That was the deal.’
‘Ah, yes. The throne.’ Pelias winced. ‘Okay … no problem. When I die, you will be the next king.’
‘What?’ cried his son, Acastus.
‘What?’ cried Jason.
‘Let the festivities begin!’ said Pelias.
Jason was steamed. He’d done everything Pelias had asked, but Pelias had never specified exactly when he would give Jason the throne, so now he had to wait for who knew how long.
‘You could take the throne by force,’ Medea urged.
Jason scowled. ‘This isn’t Colchis. We don’t kill each other in cold blood … well, not as often, anyway.’
‘Fine,’ Medea said. ‘I’m sure the old man will die soon anyway.’
Medea’s tone should’ve warned Jason that she was planning something, but I guess he didn’t want to know.
A few weeks later, after the partying had settled down and Medea and Jason had moved into guest rooms at the palace, Jason’s father, Aeson, toddled into the city for a visit, though he was now old and feeble. Medea welcomed him with a special gift. She whipped up a potion that rejuvenated his joints, strengthened his muscles and added about ten years to his life. At the end of his visit, the old guy threw away his cane and decided to jog home.
The daughters of King Pelias were so impressed they went to see Medea. ‘Wow, your magic is amazing!’ said Alcestis, one of the princesses.
Medea smiled. ‘Thank you, dear.’
‘Could you do that for our dad?’ Alcestis asked. ‘The poor guy has really bad arthritis and boils and gout and about a dozen other problems. We’d love to make him younger as a surprise birthday
present!’
‘How sweet.’ Medea’s mind whirled with possibilities. ‘Alas, you wouldn’t like the way the potion is administered. It takes great courage and a strong stomach to do what is necessary!’
Alcestis and the other princesses looked offended. ‘We are courageous!’
Medea pretended to think about it. ‘I will show you what must be done, but I’m warning you, it isn’t pretty.’
She took the princesses to her newly set-up laboratory. She asked the guards to bring her an old goat from the royal pens. Meanwhile, she set a huge pot over the fire, filled it with water and brought it to a boil. She muttered a few spells and sprinkled in some magic herbs.
The guards brought her a goat so old it could hardly stand. Its eyes were milky with cataracts. Its fur was falling out in tufts.
‘Pretend this goat is your father,’ Medea told the princesses. She took out her knife and slit its throat. Then she hacked the goat to pieces.
‘What are you doing?’ shrieked Alcestis.
Medea looked up with blood on her face. ‘I told you it wasn’t easy. Just watch.’
She gathered up the pieces of the goat and threw them in the boiling water. The pot trembled. A young goat sprang out, steaming and bleating and prancing around like, Ow, ow, hot.
‘That’s amazing!’ said Alcestis.
‘Yes.’ Medea sighed. ‘It’s too bad you would never have the courage to do this for your father. If you did, he would live another forty or fifty years!’
‘We have the courage!’ said Alcestis. ‘Give us the magic!’
Medea fixed up a bag of harmless herbs – rosemary, thyme, a little meat tenderizer. ‘Here you go. Good luck!’
That night, the four princesses prepared a huge pot of boiling water in the royal kitchen. They told their father they had a special birthday surprise for him. They blindfolded Pelias and led him down to the kitchen.
Pelias chuckled, expecting some cookies, or maybe a badly decorated cake. ‘Oh, girls, you shouldn’t have.’
‘Surprise!’ Alcestis removed his blindfold.
The king saw his four daughters standing in front of a boiling pot of water. Each of them was grinning and holding a large knife.
‘Um … girls?’
‘Happy birthday!’ The princesses fell on their father and chopped him to pieces. They threw him in the pot with the herbs and spices and waited for him to leap out young and strong. Instead, they made a pot of Pelias stew.
When they realized they’d been tricked, they wailed and moaned. They told everyone that Medea had given them the idea. Since nobody in Iolcus liked Medea, they turned on her.
Jason was horrified. He tried to distance himself from his wife. He swore he had nothing to do with the murder plot. But it was too late. No one could stand the idea of Jason being king after what his wife had done. He and Medea were forced to flee the city to avoid getting lynched by an angry mob.
Jason had finally realized his dream. He had united the city by bringing home the Golden Fleece. He had united them against him.
Acastus, Pelias’s son, became the king.
Jason and Medea were given refuge in the city of Corinth, where King Creon was a big fan of the Argonauts’ adventures. He actually believed Jason’s innocence in the infamous cooking-pot scandal.
Jason and Medea had two children – both cute little boys. Medea reconstructed her secret laboratory and fashioned spells and potions for the locals. The people of Corinth were nicer to her, though they still found her creepy. That didn’t get any better when Medea’s grandfather, Helios, gave her a new chariot for her birthday.
Why Helios thought that was a good idea, I don’t know, but this magical chariot came complete with two dragons. Medea flew it all over town when she needed to get groceries or take the kids to soccer practice, and it really made the Corinthians nervous. Nobody called her the Mother of Dragons. It just didn’t happen.
As for Jason, he became King Creon’s best general. The royal family thought he was great, but the king could tell Jason was sad in his heart.
‘My boy,’ said Creon, ‘it’s clear that your sorcerous wife is causing you grief. You can’t possibly love her. She cost you your rightful kingdom! She’s not even Greek! You need to put her aside. Marry my daughter, Creusa. I will make you my heir and you’ll be a king, as you should be!’
The first few times the king offered, Jason said no. He’d made a promise to Medea, after all. But over the months his willpower crumbled. He started finding reasons to justify what he wanted. Funny how people can do that.
Oh, it’ll be better for Medea, too, he thought. I can give her a nice alimony and child support. She can marry someone more compatible – a warlock, or a murderer, or something.
Finally he signed a deal with King Creon. The wedding date was set. Jason convinced himself that Medea would be happy and relieved. He came home with a grin on his face and told her all about it. He lectured her about why, really, this was good for both of them.
‘I see.’ Medea’s voice was like permafrost. ‘And you won’t change your mind?’
‘No, afraid not. But hey, you and the boys will be well taken care of. I hope you’ll come to the wedding!’
‘Oh, absolutely,’ said Medea. ‘I will even send your bride a gift.’
‘Wow, thanks for being so cool about this!’
Which goes to show Jason never knew his wife at all.
Medea sent Princess Creusa a poisonous wedding gown. It was the most beautiful thing Creusa had ever seen. She tried it on immediately and began to smoke and scream. She ran through the halls, her skin bubbling, her arms on fire. King Creon tried to help her and got stuck to the dress, so both father and daughter died together in misery.
When Jason heard about this, he ran home screaming ‘MEDEA! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?’ He was followed by a crowd of angry Corinthians with torches and pitchforks, and they weren’t on his side.
Jason burst through the door and his heart nearly exploded. His two sons were lying dead on the floor, Medea standing over them with a knife.
‘Our – our boys?’ Jason sobbed. ‘Why? They didn’t do anything!’
‘You caused this,’ Medea snarled. ‘You would be nothing without me! I left my home for you. I did everything for you. You promised to all the gods that you would love me forever, and you broke your word! I want you to suffer, Jason. I want to take away everything that matters to you. Farewell, ex-husband. I hope you die alone and in misery!’
Before Jason could recover his senses, Medea hopped in her dragon-powered chariot and flew away.
Jason didn’t even have time to bury his children before the mob stormed his house and he was forced to flee Corinth.
Medea flew to Athens, where she had a whole new set of adventures as Theseus’s evil stepmother. Later she returned to Colchis, found that her father Aeetes had died, and took over the throne. Why the Colchians wanted her back, I don’t know. Maybe she had proven that she was just the kind of queen they needed.
As for Jason, he wandered Greece alone and miserable. Finally, so old and crippled and grey that nobody recognized him, he returned to Iolcus, where the Argo was rotting at the docks.
The ship had once been the pride of the city, a reminder of their greatest hero. But, since the business with Medea, nobody liked to think about the Argonauts or Jason or even the Golden Fleece, which had been put in storage in the palace basement.
The Argo had an evil reputation. It had been left to the vandals and graffiti artists. Jason crawled aboard and huddled under the magical prow.
‘You’re my only friend,’ he told the ship. ‘You understand me.’
But the magical wood from Dodona had stopped talking years ago. That night as Jason slept, the prow rotted through, fell on Jason’s head and killed him.
So the Argonaut dream team was forgotten. Their quest had been all for nothing. Their great leader, Jason, died alone and despised.
And if that isn’t a great ending for this book I d
on’t know what is!
Makes you want to run right out and become a Greek hero, doesn’t it?
At least we learned some important things along the way, like:
Don’t abandon your kid in the wilderness.
Don’t make out in a god’s temple.
Don’t mix orange and lime green.
AVOID HERA AT ALL COSTS!
But, like I told you guys years ago: this demigod gig is dangerous. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Afterword
Dude, what time is it?
I’m late for our monthly Argo II reunion party. I am so dead.
Writing this book took a lot longer than I expected, but I hope it was worth it for you. Maybe it’ll save your life, or at least lay out your options for painful and interesting ways to die.
I also hope my lifetime supply of pizza and blue jelly beans starts soon. I am starving.
After reading all this, if you’re still determined to be a hero, you are beyond hope. Then again, I’m beyond hope and so are most of my friends, so, I guess, welcome to the club.
Keep your swords sharp, guys. Keep your eyes open. And, if you insist on visiting the Oracle at Delphi, well then … have a nice day.
Peace from Manhattan,
READ ON FOR AN EXCLUSIVE
PREVIEW FROM THE FIRST
BOOK IN RICK RIORDAN’S
BRAND-NEW SERIES:
MAGNUS CHASE AND
THE GODS OF ASGARD
THE SWORD OF SUMMER
ONE
Good Morning! You’re Going To Die.
Yeah, I Know. You guys are going to read about how I died in agony, and you’re going be like, ‘Wow! That sounds cool, Magnus! Can I die in agony too?’
No. Just no.
Don’t go jumping off any rooftops. Don’t run into the highway or set yourself on fire. It doesn’t work that way. You will not end up where I ended up.
Besides, you wouldn’t want to deal with my situation. Unless you’ve got some crazy desire to see undead warriors hacking one another to pieces, swords flying up giants’ noses, and dark elves in snappy outfits, you shouldn’t even think about finding the wolf-headed gates.