Steeds of the Gods Read online

  For Faith, who reads enough books

  to feed a griffin

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China

  penguin.com

  A Penguin Random House Company

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property.

  It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher

  has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility

  for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Text copyright © 2015 by Lucy Coats. Illustrations copyright © 2015 by Brett Bean. All rights reserved.

  Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC. Printed in the USA.

  Library of Congress Cataloging–in–Publication Data is available.

  ISBN 978-0-698-41233-0

  Version_1

  Contents

  DEDICATION

  COPYRIGHT

  TITLE PAGE

  1: THE GOD FROM THE SEA

  2: THE STABLES OF THE OCEAN

  3: A GODLY FIGHT

  4: HERMES TO THE RESCUE

  5: THE HORSES OF THE SUN

  6: THE PALACE OF MACRIS

  7: DEMON’S DREADFUL DILEMMA

  8: THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA

  9: THE SWIFTWEED TEST

  10: THE RACE OF SEA AND SUN

  11: THE ORDER OF OCEAN

  GLOSSARY

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR AND ILLUSTRATOR

  CHAPTER 1

  THE GOD FROM THE SEA

  Demon first found out about his latest Important Visitor when he heard Melanie the naiad shriek. He dropped his shovel in the poo barrow and rushed over to the spring outside the Stables of the Gods to see what was happening. Melanie stood shivering and curtsying at the side of her spring, her long blue hair streaming down her back. In the middle of the water stood a huge bearded figure wearing a crown of jeweled seashells. He held a large golden trident in his left hand.

  “Pah!” he spat, wringing out his robes and striding up to Demon. “Freshwater. Mimsy-flimsy stuff. Give me a pool of salty sea brine any day.”

  Demon’s heart sank into his sandals as he bowed low. An early morning visit from a god was never good news—and this was Zeus’s own brother. What could Poseidon, god of the sea, want with him at this hour?

  “How can I help you, Your Watery Wondrousness?” he asked.

  “Ha!” said Poseidon, bringing his hand down on Demon’s shoulder so hard, the young boy fell on his backside in the dust. “Watery Wondrousness. I like it. Up you get, now, stable boy. I need to talk to you.” He reached down and offered a hand wearing a glove that seemed to be made of sapphires the size and shape of barnacles. Demon took the hand cautiously. It felt cold and rather wet, and the jewel barnacles scraped his fingers, but he didn’t say anything. It was best not to with gods. They took offense very easily, he’d found, and that could lead to Bad Things.

  Poseidon was looking around him. The nine green heads of Doris the Hydra were peering shyly around the Stables’ door, long eyelashes fluttering. Demon could see the griffin lurking behind them.

  “That the beastie you cured for Hera?” the god asked. “Looks pretty healthy to me.”

  “Yes, Your Serene Saltiness,” said Demon. “It helps me out around the Stables now.” Doris fluttered its eighteen sets of eyelashes and rattled its buckets.

  “Snackies?” Doris asked hopefully. Demon ignored it. He’d only just cured its bellyache from eating too much ambrosia cake, and he wasn’t risking a repeat.

  “Show me around, stable boy,” said Poseidon.

  Demon took the god up and down the stalls. He warned him politely not to poke at the giant scorpion with the pointy end of his trident, and explained about the Cattle of the Sun not being able to eat ambrosia cake because of the terrible gas it gave them. By the time they’d almost finished, Demon was feeling a bit more optimistic. Poseidon seemed much friendlier than the scary Hera, and a lot nicer than sinister Hades. Demon shivered, remembering his recent trip down to the Underworld to save the life of Hades’s great beastdog, Cerberus. He’d only just escaped being eaten by the King of Death’s skeleton dragons, thanks to the help of Hermes, the gods’ chief messenger. Stopping at the last pen, he gestured at the creatures within.

  “These are the Ethiopian winged horses, Your Royal Godnificence,” he said, patting the shiny golden horns in the middle of the boss horse’s forehead. “I fly out on Keith here most days—they need a lot of exercise to keep their wings strong.” Keith neighed enthusiastically.

  “What do you know of Hippocamps, stable boy?” Poseidon asked abruptly. Demon racked his brain. Hippocamps? What in the name of Zeus’s toenails were they?

  “I-I-I’ve never met one, Your Outstanding Oceanosity,” he said.

  “No. I suppose you wouldn’t have. I don’t bring them up here much—no proper seawater, you see.” He clapped his hands together. “You’ll just have to come back to the Stables of the Ocean with me and examine them. Their scales are all falling off, and none of my sea people seem to know why.” Demon gulped and turned pale. He didn’t know what to do. How could he leave his own Stables again? If there was no one to clean them out and look after the beasts, the whole of Olympus would smell of poo. Then the goddesses would get furious and turn him into one big Demon-size pile of ash. Poseidon frowned, his shaggy eyebrows throwing off silvery-green sparks.

  “You don’t seem very happy, stable boy,” he growled. The atmosphere in the Stables had suddenly become heavy and close, as if a big thunderstorm was coming. The winged horses whinnied in alarm as gusts of wind began to whip the dust up into mini-tornadoes. Demon hurriedly forced a smile onto his face. He should have known that Poseidon’s nice mood was too good to last.

  “N-no, n-no, Your Awesome Aquaticness. I-I-I was just w-wondering what medicines to bring. I-I’ll go and fetch my box immediately.”

  “Very well,” said Poseidon, his frown disappearing as suddenly as it had come. “I’ll go and visit with my brother Zeus. I have a small matter I need to discuss with him. Be ready when I return.” With a swish and a swirl of his still-dripping cloak, he left the Stables, depositing a small pile of flapping fish and a large, angry lobster at Demon’s feet. The boy leaped out of reach of the lobster’s clacking claws and ran for the hospital shed. The griffin, after it had gobbled up the fish, loped after him on its lion’s feet.

  “Dearie me, Pan’s scrawny kid,” it sniggered, when it had caught up with him. “Looks like you’re in trouble, whichever way you jump.”

  “I know,” Demon panted as he ran. “What am I going to DO, Griffin? I can’t just leave all of you on your own again. Look what happened with Doris last time. And what do I do if he keeps me down there for ages? Aphrodite will probably turn me into a pile of burnt rose petals if her nighties start to smell of poo again.”

  “We-e-e-ll,” said the griffin slowly, “I suppose the Nem
ean Lion and I could make sure Doris cleans out the stables and doesn’t eat all the ambrosia cake again. Lion’s been a bit depressed since you gave it that fluffy green skin. It’ll cheer it up no end to have a job to do.”

  “Would you really?” asked Demon as he skidded to a halt in front of the hospital shed. “I don’t think it’ll take very long. I’ll be back in a day or so, I swear.” The griffin looked at him slyly out of the corner of its orange eye.

  “If you’ll promise to give me meat at least once a week when you get back,” it said. “Otherwise the deal’s off.” Demon groaned. Meat was really hard to come by on Olympus, unless it was a feast day. But he didn’t really have a choice. He’d think about how to get around the griffin’s request when he got back. If Poseidon hadn’t turned him into a Demon-shaped coral reef by then, of course.

  “All RIGHT!” he said crossly. “But you have to do the job properly. I don’t want to find a piece of hay out of place or a single speck of dust in any of the stalls. And I especially don’t want to find Doris sick again. Understand?”

  “Trust me, Pan’s scrawny kid,” it said, giving Demon a sideways orange wink that made it look most UNtrustworthy. Then it flapped its eagle wings once and soared up to sit on the rooftop. “Better hurry up,” it called down. “I see old Fishface coming out of Zeus’s palace. He doesn’t look in a very good mood.”

  Demon’s magical medicine box didn’t turn out to be in a very good mood, either, when he told it they were going to Poseidon’s realm. He could hear it grumbling behind him as it waddled its way toward the Stables on its short, stumpy legs.

  “Shut up, box,” Demon hissed as he saw Poseidon in the distance. “You’ll get us into trouble.”

  “Implementing aquasynchrous marine interface,” it muttered. “As for you, I hope you get Error Code 7533 and turn into a sea cucumber.” It withdrew its legs and thumped down beside him, ejecting a kind of see-through skin from its sides, which spread over its whole surface, sealing it completely. Demon stared at it. How was he supposed to open it now? But he had no time to think about that, because Poseidon was stomping toward him, muttering to himself. The air became thick and still again, and there was a strong smell of ozone.

  “Come with me, stable boy,” the god said, gripping Demon’s arm with his barnacle-gloved hand and, without another word, pulling him toward Melanie’s spring. Demon grabbed onto the box’s now-slightly-sticky-feeling handle and tugged. Slipping and sliding, it bounced behind him as he was dragged into the pool, sinking rapidly downward before he could take more than one panicked, gasping breath of air.

  CHAPTER 2

  THE STABLES OF THE OCEAN

  Demon held his breath for as long as he could, but eventually long streamers of silvery bubbles began to gush out of his mouth. He kicked and struggled against the god’s hold as he took in a big breath of seawater. Choking, his vision began to go black at the edges. I’m going to drown, he thought. Just then, Poseidon turned to look at him, godly green eyes flashing as they took in what was happening. Whirling his trident around in one swift movement, he pointed it at Demon. Bright purple streaks shot out of its three golden tips and weaved themselves swiftly into a net that dropped over Demon’s head and body. It encased him completely before it sank into his skin and disappeared.

  “Yurrch! Yech! Yuck!” he wheezed, hacking up seawater and snot from the bottom of his lungs. Offy and Yukus, the two snakes that made up his magical healing necklace, curled and uncurled themselves anxiously around his neck. Demon just hoped they weren’t going to get any ideas about plunging down his throat to suck the rest of the water out.

  “You weedy earthbound half-mortals,” said Poseidon as they started to zoom downward through the dark water again. “No stamina, that’s your trouble. You’ll be all right now that I’ve given you some of my sea power.”

  Just as Demon was getting used to the strange sensation of breathing water as if it were air, his heart gave a panicky thump. With all the coughing and drowning, he’d somehow let go of his magic healing box. He craned desperately over one shoulder. A flash of silver caught his eye, just as he felt a bump at the back of his knees. The box had developed silvery fins and was swimming clumsily at his heels. He closed his eyes in relief. Annoying as it was, there was no way he was going to cure a Hippocamp without its help. Whatever a Hippocamp was.

  “Follow me, stable boy,” said Poseidon as they landed on the ocean floor. He swam off toward a rocky mountain covered in silver seaweed, with Demon dog-paddling awkwardly behind him. He wasn’t used to swimming so fast, and rather wished he could grow fins like the box had. Quite soon he saw a wash of blue-green light in front of him. Two enormous golden doors stood open at the entrance to the mountain. They were guarded by two brawny creatures, half man, half fish, who thumped their spears on the ground and snapped to rigid, tail-quivering attention as Poseidon stalked past. Demon and the box hurried along at his side.

  “All hail the Father of Oceans! All hail the King of the Seas,” they shouted out in a dreary monotone, making Demon jump.

  “Yes, yes,” said Poseidon testily. “No need for all that.” He bent his head down toward Demon. “My guards, the Tritons, have loyal hearts but few brains. Now, come on, stable boy. My poor Hippocamps won’t get any better if you just stand there gaping.” Demon began to hear a rustling, scraping sort of sound, and as they turned a rocky corner, he saw a series of nine stalls made from what looked like multicolored coral. Every stall was filled with a very odd-looking beast. Each had a shiny, smooth-skinned white horse head and chest, and front legs that ended in dinner plate–size hooves surrounded by a ruff of spiny fins. Their backs and hindquarters were like monstrous fish, and their long, golden, spike-finned manes waved in the watery current. Demon could see the problem immediately. The round greenish-bronze scales that covered their rear ends were ragged and torn. Each Hippocamp had big, pink, raw-looking patches where there were no scales at all.

  “Oh! You poor things,” said Demon, walking over to pat the nearest one, which promptly reared, squealed with rage, and bared its large square teeth at him. “Stop that,” he said in his firmest beast-taming voice. “I’m here to help you.”

  “Make them comfortable, stable boy,” ordered Poseidon. “Find out what’s wrong and fix it. You may ask one of the Tritons to bring you up to the throne room when you’re finished. I have a meeting with Helios to go to now.” He paused, frowning, as a cloud of tiny golden fish zipped in and out of his beard. “Can’t think what my wretched sky cousin wants with me. Fire and water don’t mix, you know.” With that, he launched himself upward and shot through a hole in the ceiling. Demon sighed. Although the sea god hadn’t threatened to turn him into a pile of burnt seaweed, nobody needed to tell him that things wouldn’t go well for him if he didn’t find a cure for the Hippocamps.

  “Right, box,” he said, turning around. “We have work to do. Let’s find out what’s wrong with these poor beasts.” But the box had disappeared. “Box!” he said again, peering into the dark corners of the Stables of the Ocean. “Box! Stop sulking and come here at once.” There was no reply. Trying not to panic, Demon looked into every stall and checked behind every rock. Then he swam back down the passage to the golden doors. “Have you seen my silver box?” he asked the Tritons. They shook their heads. Demon wanted to kick something. He wished he’d never taken on this stupid job. He was swimming back toward the Stables of the Ocean, thinking gloomy thoughts about all the horrible things Poseidon was going to do to him now, when he heard a shout behind him.

  “Lost something?” asked a high little voice. Paddling around clumsily, he saw a girl in a blue floaty robe. She had two braids of long dark-green hair wound around her head, firmly clipped in place by several pairs of golden crabs; very pale green skin; and legs that ended in two neat flipper feet. In her arms she was holding a struggling silver box, and her mischievous grin showed a mouthful of small pearly teeth.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” he said. “Where di
d you find it?”

  “Well,” she replied, blushing a deeper shade of green, “I saw a big silver box lying about doing nothing. And then I thought the queen might like it for keeping her spare crowns in. So I kind of stole it. Only … only then it sort of came alive and told me I’d be in trouble with Poseidon if I didn’t bring it back here. So I thought I’d better do what it said. I don’t want to be turned into a sea monster! He did that to one of my cousins, and now he’s a giant ugly whale thing.”

  “Just as well,” said Demon, a double surge of anger and relief shooting through him. “If I’d lost it, you wouldn’t have been the only one Poseidon turned into something horrible.” He swam forward and grabbed the box, giving it a little pat of thanks before heading back toward the Hippocamps. The girl followed him.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Trying to cure Poseidon’s Hippocamps, of course,” he said, rather carefully approaching the horse who’d tried to bite him. “Can’t you see their scales are all falling off? Now go away. I’m a bit busy, in case you hadn’t noticed.” The girl didn’t move.

  “I know the magic Hippocamp trick,” she said, watching thoughtfully as the Hippocamp bared its teeth again and laid back its smooth green-bronze ears. “If you’re interested.” Faster than Zeus’s lightning, the horse snaked out its head and clamped its jaws around Demon’s arm, its blue eyes rolling.

  “Aarrghh!” he yelled, jumping backward and leaving a large chunk of his flesh behind. Immediately, Offy and Yukus slithered off his neck and twined themselves around the wound, sealing and healing it. He turned to look at her. “What magic Hippocamp trick?” he asked, his voice full of suspicion. He wasn’t going to trust someone who’d admitted to stealing his magic box that easily.

  “This,” she replied, gliding over to the Hippocamp and seizing it by the nostrils. She brought its head close to her face and blew a stream of bubbles up its nose. At once, its eyelids drooped, and it went all dopey. Demon was impressed in spite of himself. It was as good as his father’s magical Pan pipes. The girl turned toward him, a slightly smug look on her face.