Free Hephaestus and the Island of Terror by Joan Holub, Suzanne Williams Page A

that it has to have been made by a Crony,” she said. Though not as enormous as King Cronus, the Cronies were way bigger than the Olympians. In fact, they were as tall as trees!
    Zeus looked over at Hera. “She’s right. Can you use your feather to scout for King Cronus and his army?”
    Nodding, Hera pulled her magical object, a peacock feather, from her belt. It was green and had blue and orange markings on the end that looked like an eye, so it was called the Feather of Eyes.
    She held it in her palm and chanted, “Feather be my eyes for me, let me know if you spot a Crony.”
    “Lame-o,” Artemis murmured sleepily.
    She was right, thought Zeus. He would never say so to Hera, but her rhyme had kind of stunk. It had taken her a long time to find her feather, and she was quite proud of it. However, it would only follow commands spoken in rhyme. And though she might think otherwise, she didn’t have the skill that Apollo did when it came to rhyming. Still, the feather obeyed her now and floated off.
    Apollo grinned at Hera. “You know, I could help you with your rhyming if you want,” he offered.
    She glared at him and his sister. Before she could lash out at Apollo, Hestia piped up. “When your feather comes back, maybe you could tickle Artemis all the way awake,” she suggested to Hera.
    “Or I could try growing a remedy for her.”Demeter, the goddess of the harvest, touched the magical packet of seeds that hung from her belt.
    “That’ll take too long,” Athena put in.
    “True,” said Demeter. “And it would be better to save the seeds for crops if we can.” Just one of her magic seeds could grow enough food to feed a whole village. So she used them carefully, not wanting to waste them.
    Zeus spoke up, whispering in case any Cronies were close. “The only solution for Artemis is to find her bow and arrows. Like Pythia said.”
    “But remember what else she said?” Poseidon whispered back. “That we’ll have to fight off silver lines and gold dolls before we get to those arrows.”
    Hera giggled. “Sorry, but fighting lines and dolls doesn’t sound scary at all compared to the battles we’ve faced on our other quests.” In thepast the Olympians had fought off some terrifying monsters—a three-headed dog, bird women with razor-sharp claws, weird warriors who hopped around on one foot—and more.
    “Sometimes Pythia doesn’t see things clearly, though,” Zeus reminded her. “I wish we could be a hundred percent sure what we were going to be up against.”
    “Or even ninety percent,” quipped Poseidon.
    Just then the peacock feather flew back into Hera’s hand. She looked into its orange eye and gasped. “There’s a Crony up ahead, coming this way!” she exclaimed. “Just one, I think. He looks like a scout.”
    “Hide!” said Zeus, running for cover.
    “Aw, come on. It’s just one Crony. We can take him! Anyone up for a fight?” asked Ares, waving his spear. He was the god of war and was always eager for battle.



“No! He could sound an alarm and call up an army,” argued Zeus. “We can’t take that chance.”
    Disappointment showed in Ares’s strange red eyes, but he didn’t argue.
    “Hurry!” said Hera. “He’s getting closer.”
    “There’s a clump of bushes over there,” said Demeter, pointing. The Olympians hurried to take cover.
    “All right,” Zeus told the others. “Settle down and stay quiet.”
    “What if Artemis starts snoring?” Hera asked.
    “Artemis! Where is she?” Apollo exclaimed, looking around suddenly. “I let go of her for half a second, and now she’s gone.”
    Zeus peeked out from the bushes. There, not more than ten feet away, stood Artemis. “Frog jumped over the moon,” she said softly. Shoulders drooping, she stood right in the middle of the path. She was asleep on her feet!
    Crunch! Crunch! It was the sound of huge boots crossing the sandy soil. The Crony scout. He was coming closer. In seconds he would discover Artemis!
    Hera