A smile spread slowly across Polydectes’s thin lips. A smile that told me Perseus had fallen into the evil king’s trap!

Polydectes wanted to be rid of the boy. If Perseus found Medusa and looked at her, he’d be turned to stone. That was the real present the king was hoping for. Then King Polydectes would be free to marry Danaë. But, if Perseus somehow managed to bring the king Medusa’s head? Then Polydectes would have his dream weapon. It was a win-win game for old Poly-D.

“Yes,” Polydectes told Perseus. “This is what I most desire. But tell me, boy. How will you find Medusa? No one knows where she lives.”

“I shall go to the oracle at Delphi and learn the location of Medusa!” Perseus declared.

I winced. Where had he gotten this brilliant idea—from his grandfather, King Acrisius?

“The sibyl will tell me where to find the Gorgons,” Perseus went on. “I shall travel to their hideaway, however far it may be. And I, Perseus, will cut off Medusa’s head and bring it to you!”

My ichor started boiling all over again. These mortals! They were shameless!

“Go!” said Polydectes.

Perseus turned and walked quickly out of the ballroom. I circled by the buffet, scooped up one last handful of cheese puffs, then followed Perseus into the night.

Perseus headed down to the beach and began untying a rowboat. I thought about just astro-traveling to Delphi and meeting Perseus there when he arrived. But as I watched him struggling with the rope, I realized that he needed my help—even to get his boat untied! So I lent my invisible fingers to the task, then leaped from the shore into the boat.

“Ye gods!” exclaimed Perseus as I landed with an invisible thud. “What strange winds blow this night?” He steadied the little craft and began rowing away from Seriphos. The waves were high, and Perseus was a lousy oarsman. With all those cheese puffs sloshing around in my gut, it took all my godly willpower not to get seasick.

“I can do it!” Perseus mumbled to himself as he rowed. “I will bring Polydectes the Gorgon’s head. Then he will marry Halia and leave my mother alone. I can do it!”

This, from a mortal without a sword. Without a helmet. Without a plan. Only a son of Zeus could have so much misplaced confidence.

Perseus rowed on. Finally, I spotted the shore of Greece and not a moment too soon. If I hadn’t been invisible, I would have been a sickly shade of green.

Perseus pulled the boat ashore and headed toward Delphi. I trudged along beside him. After a while, my feet began to hurt, and I was reminded of the old days, when the only way we gods could get anywhere was on foot. We even had to hike up Mount Olympus. Then we learned how to astro-travel, and that was the end of blisters on our godly feet. Sometimes I think it’s the little things like astro-traveling that make being a god so worthwhile.

Three days later, Perseus and I arrived in Delphi. We looked up at the oracle’s temple, which sat halfway up Mount Parnassus, on its steepest side. A sulphurous yellow haze hung over the mountain. No birds sang in the trees. No nymphs frolicked in the nearby streams. It was a place of smoke and silence.

Perseus started up the stone steps cut into the mountain. I was right behind him. The path was lined with signs for the Mount Parnassus Hotel, which advertised, among other luxuries, a smoke-warmed hot tub and shuttle service direct to the sibyl. There were souvenir stands, too. One featured THE ONE AND ONLY TALKING SIBYL DOLL! PRESS THE BUTTON AND SHE’LL TELL YOU THE FUTURE!

Perseus stepped up to the first official-looking mortal he saw—a woman wearing a badge that read MY NAME IS VALIA! WELCOME TO DELPHI!

“I am here to see the sibyl,” said Perseus.

“You and half of Greece,” muttered Valia. “There’s the line.”

Perseus looked where Valia pointed. The line wound all the way around the base of the mountain. “Ye gods!” said Perseus. “Is there no way I can cut to the front of this line?”

“Could be,” Valia said. “What have you got, gold coins?”

“I have no gold,” said Perseus.

“Silver?” said Valia.

“I have no silver,” said Perseus.

“Probably no jewels, either, huh?” said Valia.

Perseus shook his head.

Valia shrugged. “As I said, there’s the line.”

Perseus walked over to the end of the line. I figured it would be a good three-hour wait. That gave me a chance to carry out a little scheme of my own.

I left Perseus standing in line and continued invisibly up the path until I reached the oracle entrance. Taking care not to bump into any of the waiting mortals, I flipped the OPEN sign over so that it read CLOSED. Then I slipped into the cave. The sibyl, a young mortal priestess, sat on a tripod—a high three-legged stool—on the very edge of an enormous crack in the cave floor. Clouds of yellow smoke rose up from some mysterious source below.

“Psst!” I said. “Sibyl?”

The sibyl turned her head, looking around. Her eyes were very bloodshot. And no wonder— all that smoke could not have been good for her.

“It’s me, Hades, King of the Underworld,” I said. “I’m here, but I’m invisible.”

The sibyl closed her eyes. “Speak, pilgrim! What is your question for the oracle?”

“I’m not a pilgrim myself,” I explained. “But I’m here with one. His name is Perseus. He’s going to ask where to find Medusa the Gorgon.”

The sibyl frowned. “Go on.”

“Could you do me a huge favor, Sibyl?” I said. “Could you tell Perseus that Medusa lives in the opposite direction from where she really lives?”

The sibyl’s eyes popped open in surprise.

Suddenly the ground began to rumble.

WHOOSH! An angry billow of dark gray smoke belched up from the crevice. It was so thick I lost sight of the sibyl. I could hardly breathe.

“HADES, IS THAT YOU?” a voice called from inside the smoke.

“Uh, yeah,” I managed.

“IT’S ME, MOTHER EARTH,” said the voice. “YOUR GRANNY GAIA.”

“Granny!” I said. “This is a surprise.”

“WHY?” snapped Granny Gaia. “WHO DID YOU THINK WOULD BE SPEAKING TO YOU FROM DEEP INSIDE THE EARTH, A WOOD SPRITE? NOW, LISTEN HERE, HADES. DID I JUST HEAR YOU ASK MY SIBYL TO FIB?”

“I—I guess you could say that,” I admitted, coughing from the smoke. “But it’s for a worthy cause, Granny. Perseus wants to find Medusa so he can behead her.”

“IF THAT IS HER FATE, SO BE IT,” snapped Granny Gaia. “I HAVE MY REPUTATION TO MAINTAIN HERE, HADES. IF MY SIBYL STARTED LYING AND STRETCHING THE TRUTH WHENEVER IT SUITED ONE OF YOU GODS, NO ONE WOULD TRUST THIS ORACLE. NO ONE WOULD PAY TO SEE THE SIBYL. I HAVE MY RETIREMENT TO CONSIDER!”

“I see your point, but—”

“GOOD.” Granny Gaia cut me off.

“But Granny!” I cried. “Poor Medusa! She’s—”

“GO AWAY, HADES,” said Granny Gaia. “AND DON’T MEDDLE WITH MY SIBYL.”

With a WHOOSH! the gray smoke was sucked back into the crevice. Sulphurous yellow smoke floated up to take its place.

“Next pilgrim,” called the sibyl.

I made my invisible way out of the cave and flipped the sign back to OPEN. I couldn’t believe it. Foiled by my own granny!

Perseus stood next in line. I should have known he’d find a way to cut ahead. He was talking to an oracle whose official name tag read LELIX.

“That will be LX drachmas,” said Lelix.

“There’s a charge?” asked Perseus.

Lelix glared at him. “Take a look up there.” He pointed to a huge serpent that was coiled around the top of Mount Parnassus. “That’s Python. He’s the guard here. And he makes sure no one gets in to see the sibyl for free.”

“How about an IOU?” asked Perseus. He and Lelix haggled for a while. Finally Perseus signed a slip of parchment. If Perseus was anything like his father, Lelix was going to have that IOU forever. When the deal was done, I followed Perseus back into the cave.

The sibyl gazed at Perseus. “Speak, pilgrim,” she said in a low voice. “What is your question for the oracle?”

Perseus said. “Where is the home of Medusa the Gorgon?”

The sibyl leaned forward over the smoky crevice and called down the question: “Where is the home of Medusa the Gorgon?” She leaned so far that two legs of her tripod left the ground. There, she balanced, over the chasm, with her eyes closed and smoke billowing up into her face.

At last the sibyl leaned back, raised her head, and turned slowly toward Perseus

“Mother Earth has spoken. You must go to the Land of the Acorn Eaters!”

I groaned inwardly. I’d been to that land, also known as Dodona. It was filled with thousands of oaks, the tree sacred to Zeus. The oak trees of Dodona had the power of speech, and they babbled incessantly, revealing the will of Zeus.

“Where’s that?” asked Perseus.

The sibyl sat with her head bowed. She made no answer.

“Wait a minute, that’s it?” said Perseus.

The sibyl was silent.

“What kind of answer is that?” cried Perseus. “I came all this way for one sentence?”

The sibyl was silent as a stone.

“Excuse me? I’m next,” said a mortal coming up behind Perseus. “Your time’s up.”

Perseus gave a grunt of frustration and stomped angrily out of the cave.

These mortals, I thought, hurrying after him. They expect so much.