Percy Jackson's Greek Gods (Percy Jackson and the Olympians companion #5.5) - Rick Riordan Page 0,106

her.

“Sorry,” they said. “Hera will curse us for all eternity if we let you come ashore. You can’t give birth on any land with roots in the earth.”

“But that means every land!” Leto protested.

“Yeah, that’s the idea,” the nymphs told her.

Leto drifted from place to place, her body racked with pain, her unborn children getting more and more impatient. Leto felt like she’d swallowed an overinflated beach ball and a couple of feral cats.

In desperation, she went to Delphi, which had once been her mother Phoebe’s sacred place. Leto figured the Oracle would give her sanctuary.

Unfortunately, the Oracle’s cave had been taken over by a giant snake called Python. Where did he come from? You’ll love this. The word python is from the Greek pytho, which means rotting. The monster Python was born out of the festering, rotten slime left over from the great flood when Zeus drowned the world. Tasty!

Anyway, Python had moved into the area and told himself, Hey, this is a nice cave. Lots of juicy mortals to eat! Python proceeded to swallow the priests and the soothsayers and the pilgrims who came looking for aid. Then he coiled up for a nap.

When Leto visited, she was shocked to find a hundred-foot-long snake as thick as a school bus hanging out in her mother’s favorite holy place.

“Who are you?” Leto demanded.

“I am Python,” said Python. “And you must be breakfast.”

The snake lunged at her. Leto fled, but she looked so appetizing, being plump and pregnant and slow, that Python pursued her for miles. A couple of times he almost caught her. Leto barely made it back to her boat.

Where was Zeus this whole time? Hiding. Hera was in a royal snit, and Zeus didn’t want to be the target of her wrath, so he let Leto take all the heat. Nice guy.

Leto kept sailing until finally she had a crazy idea. She asked the captain of her ship to sail for the island of Delos.

“But, my lady,” said the captain, “Delos is a floating island! Nobody knows where it is from day to day.”

“JUST FIND IT!” Leto screamed. Labor pain made her eyes glow red with agony.

The captain gulped. “One Delos, coming right up!”

Several nerve-racking days later, they found the place. It looked like a normal island—beaches, hills, trees, etc.—but Delos wasn’t attached to the earth. It floated on the waves like a giant life preserver, drifting around the Mediterranean, occasionally pinballing off other islands or running over unsuspecting whales.

As the ship got closer, Leto forced herself to stand at the bow. She was in so much pain, she could hardly think; but she called out to the main nature spirit of the island: “Oh, great Delos, you alone can help me! Please let me come ashore and give birth on your island!”

The island rumbled. A voice echoed from the hills: “Hera will be royally ticked off if I do that.”

“She can’t hurt you!” Leto yelled. “Her curse specified any land with roots in the earth. You don’t have roots! Besides, once my children are born, they will protect you. Two Olympian gods on your side. Think about that. Delos will become their holy place. You will have great temples of your own. You can finally settle down in one spot. The tourism alone will make you millions!”

Delos thought about that. The island was tired of drifting around. The forest nymphs were getting seasick from constantly bobbing on the waves.

“All right,” said the voice. “Come ashore.”

As soon as Leto found a spot to lie down, the whole world trembled with anticipation. It’s not every day that two new Olympian gods are born. All the goddesses—except, of course, Hera—rushed to Leto’s side to help her give birth.

Leto had two beautiful babies—a boy named Apollo, and a girl named Artemis. They were born on the seventh day of the seventh month, when Leto was seven months pregnant, so their holy number was thirteen. (Just kidding. It was seven.)

We’ll talk about Artemis in a bit, but Apollo wasted no time taking the spotlight. As soon as he’d tasted nectar from his baby bottle, he hopped out of his mother’s arms, stood on his own two feet, and grinned.

“’Sup, folks?” he said. “My name’s Apollo, and I need a bow and arrows, stat! Also, a musical instrument would be good. Has anybody invented the lyre yet?”

The goddesses looked at each other in confusion. Even the Olympians were not used to grinning babies who spoke in complete sentences and demanded weapons.

“Erm, I’ve