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He saw that wherever-he-was was lit with a flaming sun falling on colors so vibrant he didn’t think they were real.
“OMG,” Nick whispered.
He’d landed on a big stone mount with some stairs slanting down like one of those Mayan temples. When he turned, he saw craggy mountains behind, and, just to his left, one of those tents they put up at swap meets. But this one didn’t cover dollar socks or radios: instead, it shaded . . . pots? Nick saw people—mainly guys—dressed in super-bright togas, haggling over those pots like their lives depended on it. He had no idea what they said, since they sounded like Ya-Ya when she talked to Mom and didn’t want him to understand. Greek, Nick thought. These guys are speaking Greek and I am in ancient Greece—or that funky place his dad was from.
Nick saw a guy in a green toga slog his way up the steps. Feeling lame in his torn shirt and jeans, Nick tried to say “hi” in Greek. The man looked at him strangely, then spread his hands and shrugged. Great. Not knowing what else to do, Nick followed him to a long, rectangular building.
Nick took out his phone and snapped a series of pics. How he wished he could send them to mom! In the meantime, he stared at this building, which was truly epic. Held up by gold-banded columns, it was made out of marble and from it hung two huge banners, both showing a strange-looking owl. Carved lions guarded the roof’s four corners, and there were way more carvings up high. On one, Nick saw some naked guys battling a group of centaurs. He wondered why. Then, he walked around to where there were more figures, showing some big dude (Hercules?) fighting a ton of creatures.
We Greeks, Nick thought, have hella imagination.
But what should he do now? Enter this vast, unknown building? It made a certain sense, since that was the place he’d landed. Sucking in his breath, he entered between the two owls, then stopped cold by the door.
Man, this place was vast! As big as L.A.’s Coliseum. Nick’s trainers squeaked over tiles as he felt dwarfed by huge columns divided by a low roof. There was something spooky in here, and, as Nick walked to the front, he saw just what it was. He looked up at two statues so big he barely came up to their feet. They were of a woman and man, each posed with one arm raised, and what was even freakier: Green Toga Guy was there talking to them in his language!
After what seemed like hours, Toga Guy finally bailed, leaving Nick alone . . . with two ginormous bronzes.
Okay, Nick thought, here goes.
In what he hoped was a friendly tone, he spoke to the unmoving couple.
“What’s up?” he asked, feeling dorky. “I like your hats.”
Nothing.
“Um, you must be gods, right? And this is your temple?” That was the best he could do. “My name’s Nick. Nikólaos Chironopolous. You can probably tell I’m Greek. My dad sent me here. I mean, not here here, but to your make-believe land.”
It was then that the woman stirred, dropping her arm in disgust.
“Is your land made up?” she asked.
“N-no, not to me.”
“You probably guessed,” she said, “that I am Pallas Athena.” Though her mouth didn’t move, Nick could hear her speak directly into his brain. “I am the Goddess of Wisdom, War, and Skill. I was born, fully formed, from out of my father’s head.”
“Ouch?” Nick said.
“You are here for my brother,” she said, pointing to the bronze beside her. “Make sure not to anger him, for his temper is like a volcano.”
“O-okay,” said Nick. The guy looked calm enough, though his thighs were pretty hefty. “So—”
That was as far as he got. Soundlessly, the male statue moved his arm, and, for the second time that day, Nick felt himself being lifted. Now, he was being whisked up, through blasts of white-cold mist, to be plopped like a box from Amazon before two towering gates. Only thing was . . . Nick blinked to clear his mind . . . the gates were made of clouds and blocked by a lovely young woman.
“It’s all right, Seasons,” said a disembodied voice. “The visitor is with me.”
She bowed her graceful head, and, the next thing Nick knew, he was standing in a vast workshop heated by open flames. The space seemed higher than Heaven, which proved to be a plus, since it housed a Cyclops. This giant stepped before Nick.
“Measurements?” he asked, his one huge eye staring down. “Collar size? Waist? Inseam?”
Was this fierce-looking dude actually a tailor?
Nick didn’t have time to ask before he sank to the floor.
