I still don’t think it was a trick,” Zeus explained. He and the other Olympians were back on the boat, sailing the calm seas toward Mount Titan.
“Me neither,” Hades agreed. “I think those guys just got excited to be out in the real world again. They’ll come back.”
“Well, they’d better come back,” Hera snapped. “Especially since Mr. Zappy here doesn’t have a plan.”
“That’s not true,” Zeus replied.
“Oh yeah? So, what is it?” Hera challenged him.
“Yes, what is it, fearless leader?” Hephaestus chimed in. Ever since they’d found Hephaestus, he had always wanted to be the leader of the group.
“We’ll talk about it when we dock the boat later,” Zeus replied.
“Right,” Hera said. “Because you don’t have a plan.”
Zeus ignored her and stared out at the ocean. Hera was right. He didn’t have a plan, exactly. When they got to Mount Titan, they’d be facing King Cronus, the other Titans, an army of Cronies, and maybe even monsters. How exactly did you plan for that? All he knew was that in the past everything had always worked out. He’d have to have faith in that.
Faith. That was the only plan he had. But he couldn’t tell that to the others. He had to think of something.
They sailed all morning, and Poseidon docked the boat in the afternoon, before the sun set.
“It’s about a half day’s walk to Olympus from here,” Hermes reported after returning from another scouting mission. “I don’t think they’re expecting us to come from the coast. Cronus has most of the Crony army stationed in the south and east.”
Zeus nodded. “That’s good,” he said. “Maybe we can surprise them.”
“Surprise? Is that your plan?” Hera asked, seeming to appear from nowhere.
Zeus changed the subject. “Ares and Hades, tie the boat to the dock and then we’ll eat. Who’s hungry?”
“Me!” Poseidon yelled. “I’m so hungry, I could eat a fried boot!”
“We’ve got plenty of bread, cheese, and fish,” Hestia said.
Demeter sighed. “I miss eating fresh fruit and vegetables.”
Suddenly voices rose from below the dock. “Figs! Ripe, juicy figs!”
Demeter and Hestia raced to the edge of the boat. Down below were two gray-haired women in robes. One held a basket of plump purple figs.
“Yum!” Demeter cried. She turned to Aphrodite. “Could you please magic up a gold coin? Figs would be lovely for supper.”
Aphrodite smiled. “Of course!” She tossed her golden apple from hand to hand, and three gold coins clattered onto the deck.