Heaven Sent Read online

  As Era and I rushed through the halls, I was already planning what I was going to do to Tim when I next saw him. But then I heard another laugh ring out over the PA, and my heart just froze. And suddenly I knew why the Backroom Betties hadn’t been sitting in their usual spot at lunch. The laugh was made up of three voices, in fact. Three fiercely familiar female chuckles. Three fiercely familiar evil female chuckles.

  SEVENTEEN

  Late that night Polly was still crying. She had come home, taken off her broken shoes, and climbed up the old oak tree that lived behind our house. There she sat, sobbing.

  I climbed up first. Then Era. We sat up there, cradled by the branches, staring up into the black sky that was completely lit up with brilliant teeny-tiny intense stars. The craggy branch I was perched on was, in fact, as comfortable as my bed, the bathtub.

  “This reminds me of home,” said Polly, speaking of the tree and the stars and the evening’s fragrant breezes.

  “Me too,” said Era, herself looking mildly depressed.

  “So let’s go over this again, one more time, okay?” I said. I got nods, as much an approval to continue as either of them had in them.

  “Tim is a self-important, deceitful little boy with a bad haircut. Polly, on the other hand, is an insanely bright, astonishingly talented, and all-around gorgeous goddess. Do you read me?”

  “Yes, Thalia,” Polly said with little enthusiasm. I wanted enthusiasm.

  “Look, the fact is, we’re all three incredibly smart girls. We’ve got years and years, decades, heck, millenniums ahead of us to live. Does living life really need to include pining over foolish boys who don’t understand our ways? Do we care what people think of us, really, in the big picture? Forget about high school and boys—we don’t need ’em; we can be what we want to be. We can go where we want to go….”

  “I want to go back home and I can’t. Explain that one,” said Era.

  “But we’re still young—that’s my point! So we’re stuck here for now, but it is the future that we can aspire to. Next week, next month, this won’t mean anything. What matters is that we have our friends and each other and our future, our potential.”

  But my incredibly inspirational speech wasn’t having much of an effect on anyone, myself included. I hated the idea that people were laughing and whispering about us, and I, too, wanted to go home.

  “It’s not just Tim, Thalia,” Polly whispered. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking a great deal about what Daddy said. About my need to live my own life. Not by finding it in books or through fixing the lives of others, but by finding it in myself. And I guess I thought that being in love would make that happen somehow. But now I wonder if that’s not true. Maybe I can’t change who I am. Maybe none of us can. Maybe you can never be selfless and Era can never stop being so easily swayed. Maybe we’ll never get to go home.” Polly paused to swipe at a stray tear, which was dribbling down her nose. “And for a while, I was even thinking that maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. But now all I want is to get out of this place. And I am surely, certainly never going back to school ever again.”

  Polly was right. I’d thought earth would be different somehow. I’d thought we could really change. But maybe we couldn’t. And I surely didn’t want to be here anymore. Not after today, not after seeing all of those people laugh at my sister. I missed home.

  And I missed Apollo. The way he would fight with me about such things as music or sports. The way he talked with me. No one here really talked with me, besides my sisters. My only friend here was Claire, and while she was outrageously cool, she didn’t truly know me or know who I was, and I certainly couldn’t tell her anything. Even if I could have, no one could take the place of Apollo.

  Life on earth kind of sucked.

  Polly’s tears eventually stopped, but we stayed in the tree, just talking about home. Era talked about running around the garden mazes barefoot with every teenage midlevel god chasing behind her. Polly spoke of her favorite spot, behind the Beautorium, where the cashmere rabbits would cool themselves in the shade of the wisteria tree. And me, all I could think about was how I had, yet again, put myself and my own concerns and my own agenda ahead of everyone else’s. Yes, I had wanted to make Polly happy, but not just for her own sake. No, I’d thought that if I proved I could help, I, Thalia, one of the nine Muses of Helicon, could prove I was selfless. And in trying to do so, I had proved exactly the darn opposite.

  Hey, isn’t recognizing your faults half the battle?

  I lay back, closed my eyes, and chanted silently to myself, I must be more selfless, I must be more selfless, I must be more selfless. But my mind did not go blank with fabulous selfless thoughts. It went straight back to Apollo and his sweet, sexy smile. And that night. The night I ruined everything…

  EIGHTEEN

  “I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” I said through tightly clenched teeth as my eight sisters and I waited for our introduction.

  “You have no other choice, do you?” said, or sort of asked, Polly.

  When we heard Daddy announce us, we stepped out from behind the curtain and onto the stage. I looked around and saw that everyone was there. My sister Clio had thrown a truly wonderful party. If only it was celebrating a happy occasion. I put my best face on as I moved forward.

  The nine of us took nine steps more. And then my father held out his hand, which signaled for me to leave the lineup and come to the edge of the stage.

  I didn’t see Apollo at first. My eyes darted everywhere, looking for him. I quickly became more anxious; my palms started to sweat.

  Then I saw him.

  His smile was soft; his eyes were focused and bright. When my father nodded, Apollo walked up the stairs and took my fingers in his trembling hands. “You look, no, you are simply the most gorgeous goddess I have ever laid eyes on,” he said. Yeah, I swooned just a bit. How could I not?

  The whole hall was quiet, like the crowd was collectively holding its breath, waiting for something, anything, to happen. Apollo leaned forward and softly brushed his lips to my forehead and held them there for a moment or three. Every breath I had left my chest, and I felt dizzy, dazzlingly dizzy. But I regained my composure quickly. Tonight was not about dizziness or fluttery stomachs. It was about saving myself from a life of tortuous boredom and banality.

  “As god of the heavens, I decree today a day of celebration, for tomorrow Thalia and Apollo will be married.” It was my father, bellowing and bouncing me back to reality. The crowd roared with cheers. Daddy said a few more words about how overjoyed he was at this union, how “upstanding” and “noble” Apollo was, blah, blah, blah. When he finished, the crowd roared again, and all eyes were upon us.

  Then the music began. Before I could even look at Polly or Era, Apollo had whisked me out onto the floor and was twirling me silly. Round and round, faster and faster. I relaxed a little. Apollo and I were together again, just being reckless kids as usual. I half forgot why everyone else was here as we spun from corner to corner. We were unstoppable.

  We went round and round and round, and after a few minutes Apollo spotted icky King Cepheus.* Why on earth would Father have invited him? Apollo danced me right over there and twirled me just to ol’ Cepheus’s left, and oops, I stuck my foot out a hair too far, and down the big king went.

  As we danced dance after dance, I couldn’t deny it—I was having the time of my life with my best friend, who was not only silly and fun and smart but so very handsome, too. We talked; we joked; we teased each other mercilessly. I couldn’t stop laughing—it was uncontrollable, coming up from my belly and taking over my whole body. I can enjoy this, I can enjoy him, I thought, without giving up any of myself, without actually marrying him. We danced and danced. We danced like wild children in our fancy clothes. We danced like Nereids dance in the deep blue sea. We danced like we were in love.

  Then Hera had to speak and ruin the moment. “Excuse me, excuse me, everyone, for I have something to say.”

  “
Doesn’t she always,” said the very charming Apollo.

  “Ahem.” Hera coughed, looking our way. “This is truly the happiest day of my life. To see this young and ill-tempered girl find some happiness just makes me want to cry.” And then she made an attempt to eke out a tear, but to no avail.

  “I just want to say that Apollo is the bravest of men for taming this wild child, for whom I have no more patience. And to him I am forever indebted. For her happiness, of course, not mine. Ahem.”

  “Dear, that’s probably good enough,” my father was cutting in, trying to spare the inevitable family embarrassment that comes whenever Hera speaks in public.

  “No, no, I am not done quite yet. See, here come the tears. Tears of joy. With Thalia gone and off with her poor sap of a husband, oh, I mean savior of a husband, um, I will be entertaining every Friday night in my new music room, formerly Thalia’s bedroom. Come on by if you’d like, and sing a tune or three with us.”

  At that, my father yanked Hera off the stage. A few of the guests fidgeted uncomfortably, but Hera’s words didn’t upset me in the least. I’d known since I was nine that Hera wanted me gone and out of the house. Ever since I’d playfully dyed her beloved cat, Manto, a lovely shade of violet.

  What was upsetting was how my feelings for Apollo were taking over my brain. As he pulled me back onto the dance floor, his smile was exciting and made me feel warm from my toes to the ends of my hair. His eyes were like velvet; they welcomed me cozily into his arms. And his arms, oh, his arms, which were wrapped around me as we danced, felt gentle and yet so firm. My brain was just on fire. Could I have made the wrong decision in thwarting this whole marriage thing? I didn’t know what to do. The time was approaching when I planned to make the Scyllia switch. I needed to find Polly and Era and talk to them about these flutters in my stomach and the ache in my chest. I needed to confess. I needed Polly’s levelheadedness and Era’s warmth to set me straight. I needed my two favorite sisters desperately.

  Dingdong.

  That was the bell announcing that the banquet was soon to begin. I had to find Polly and Era immediately. But before I could go more than a few steps, Apollo, with a sly smile, grabbed me by the arm and pulled me behind the giant curtain to the side of the stage.

  He didn’t say a word. He just took my face in his trembling hands. First his fingertips, soft, so soft, brushed over my lips. He held two perfectly straight fingers there for a moment and stared directly into my eyes. They were wet, actually wet, not with tears, just joy. And then his lips brushed mine, and he gently, ever so gently, kissed me. He tasted like blueberries. My throat went dry. My knees went weak. My fingertips tingled. My lower lip fluttered. And my eyes welled up. When he pulled away, I just stared at him, dumbfounded. I couldn’t speak. With his face just an inch or two from mine, he smiled his familiar devilish grin and then grabbed my waist, pulling me back onto the dance floor for a last go-round before supper.

  I was in a serious state of confusion. Why had I fought this all along? I could not recall one reason, not one reason at all why I had not agreed to marry Apollo. Yet I knew I must have had reasons. I searched my brain, begging for an answer, a reason not to marry him. But nothing came. What a fool I had been. This marriage thing will be fine, I thought, grand, even. After all, he’s the most beautiful kisser in the world and he tastes like ripe perfect fruit, not to mention he is brave, smart, crazy, wacky, and hilariously funny. And he loves me. He thinks I’m stunning. Inside and out.

  Apollo took my hand and led me to the head table on the stage. He and I sat in the center. Hera sat to Apollo’s right and Daddy to my left.

  As everyone else took their seats, Hera leaned over to Apollo and me and said, “This has been all fun and games today, but after tomorrow you two will not behave as such children. You, Apollo, must tame her, for this behavior of tripping kings and insulting gods is unacceptable for a lady. As of tomorrow, it is done.”

  I then looked to Apollo to give me a roll of his eyes or to stick his finger down his throat to signal how horrendously gaggy that statement was, but instead he just said, “Yes, Your Highness. Of course.”

  And then he looked at me. His eyes were sorrowful, as if to say, “She’s right; I’m sorry.”

  But she wasn’t right. Since when did growing up mean not having fun? I looked at Apollo, who was now sitting upright, his manners perfectly in place. I looked at Hera with her smug satisfied smile, and then I looked back at Apollo. And like the flood that comes when Poseidon opens the dam on the river…it all came back to me. I remembered exactly why I didn’t want to marry Apollo. Marry at all.

  I had but moments to make a life-altering choice. I couldn’t see straight. It seemed like the room was getting louder and louder. My eyes welled up out of pure confusion and fear. I looked for my sisters, and there they were, sitting at the opposite end of the table. Polly gave me an almost imperceptible nod.

  The sound of tinkling crystal startled me. Daddy was raising his glass to make a toast, and all eyes were on me and Apollo. It was time to go through with this. I took a deep breath and held it there, just for a moment.

  Then I took Hera’s charmeuse bag out of my pocket and placed the hair of the goat boy inside. My two sisters’ powers were already contained in the silky pink bag. I hooked my pinkie fingers together, closed my eyes, and envisioned toads and eels and sea monsters.

  When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I focused on was the Furies, sitting a few seats away. They were huddled together, watching me, leaning forward and perfectly silent (which is pretty unusual for the Furies). And they were all wearing the same amused smiles. My skin swam with chills. Something was very, very wrong. But it was too late to do anything; the transformation had begun.

  At first no one noticed. But then a huge green wart bubbled to the surface of my cheek and sprang a leak. It dripped neon green ooze from its tip. Apollo, Daddy, and the rest of the party all noticed at the same time. The crowd shrieked in horror, jumping out of their seats and knocking over place settings, chairs, tables.

  I felt lost; the room was spinning out of control. My skin was changing second to second, and I couldn’t focus on anyone or anything. I felt dizzy and sick. Really, genuinely, awfully sick.

  Apollo’s face was full of shock and concern. He went to grab my hand, but before he could touch me, Hera dove across him and at me, screaming, “Noooo, my music roooommmmmmm!” She clutched my shoulders and started shaking me furiously.

  Then, not seconds later, her face began to simmer and boil with green ooze. Was I imagining it? Why would she have the dreaded Scyllia disease, too? But there she was, slime pouring out of her blooming sores in buckets, her mouth wide open in one hideous, continuous scream. I couldn’t help it—I started screaming, too.

  The hall was in complete pandemonium. For several minutes I gaped at the scene around me in confusion and horror. I clutched my own mouth to hold back my scream and found that my lips were covered in boils. I looked at Hera and saw my mirror image—her skin was a liquid green goo; her hair was now a pile of hissing snakes.

  “Thalia!” Apollo cried, rushing toward me again. But one of the snakes now coiled on my own head hissed, and he backed off. The one and only thing Apollo is scared of is snakes. Era and Polly had also tried to rush to my side, but now they stood equally far away.

  The hall was booming with gasps and screams and chatter. Several women had fainted.

  “Please, everyone, keep quiet, stay calm,” yelled Daddy, staring at Hera fearfully out of the corner of his eye and backing away just a bit farther.

  When the transformation was finally complete and the ooze had slowed to a dribble, Hera’s screams subsided to a dull moan, and she just stood there looking at me like she was going to tear me apart with her bare hands. But she couldn’t get close enough because my serpent hair wanted a piece of hers, and bad. The snakes were coiled and hissing and ready to attack. The noises around us finally subsided to an expectant hush.

  “What is
the meaning of this?” Hera roared, indicating her entire body, which was now mutated beyond recognition. Her voice echoed against the marble walls.

  Then the Furies appeared at her side. They were the only ones who would, who could, go near her. The snakes were charmed by their presence and stopped their hissing.

  “Oh, Hera, how we hate to be the bearers of bad news, but sweet queen, it was Thalia, Era, and Polly who concocted this scheme,” said Meg, her voice dripping with happiness.

  The crowd let out a collective gasp. I looked around, shocked and speechless. What could I say? It was true. I had never intended to give this horrible disease to Hera, but it was completely and thoroughly my fault. Although I had no idea how the Furies knew that.

  Tizzie continued. “Thalia did not want to marry Apollo and thought of no other way than to—than to—give you the dreaded Scyllia disease….”

  “Wait a minute. That’s not exactly right. No, no, no,” I said.

  But Alek picked up where Tizzie had stopped. “She thought that if they gave you the incurable Scyllia, it would cause a commotion and further prolong, if not halt, the wedding. Yes, that’s it!”

  “No, that’s not it!” cried Era.

  “It’s not nearly that bad,” cried Polly.

  “And it’s not incurable—I know how to reverse it because…” I pleaded, looking at Daddy hopefully.

  But Daddy did not let me finish. He let out a yell so loud, the huge, sparkling chandelier above us started to rock back and forth. And then it fell. The ground beneath us shook and crashed and crumbled as the chandelier shattered on the floor. I’m sure they felt that one on earth, I had time to think.

  “Daddy.” I struggled to hold back a flood of tears. “I—”

  Just then I heard a sort of moan behind me. I turned to see Apollo standing there, looking more hurt than I had ever seen a man, animal, or god ever look. His eyes, so full of confusion, were no longer a sparkling green but a deep, dark, angry black. His lips were no longer round and ripe and red but tight and white and mad. His eyes caught mine, my now one lone green eye, and he said, “You gave this horrible disease to yourself to avoid marrying me?”