gave birth to a healthy baby boy god. He was the most beautiful and perfect one yet. Rhea named him Zeus, which, depending on who you ask, either means Sky or Shining or simply Living. I personally vote for the last one, because I think at this point Rhea had simple hopes for this kid—keep him alive and away from hostile stomachs.
Zeus began to cry, maybe because he sensed his mother’s anxiety. The sound echoed through the cave and out into the world—so loud that everyone and their Titan mother knew a baby had been born.
“Oh, great,” Rhea muttered. “I promised to bring the child to Kronos immediately. Now word will get back to Kronos that it’s baby-swallowing time.”
The cave floor rumbled. A large stone emerged from the dirt—a smooth, oval rock exactly the same size and weight as a baby god.
Rhea wasn’t stupid. She knew this was a gift from Gaea. Normally, you would not be excited if your mom gave you a rock for a present, but Rhea understood what to do with it. She wrapped the stone in swaddling clothes and gave the real baby Zeus to the nymphs to take care of. She just hoped she could pull off the switcheroo once she got back to the palace.
“I’ll visit as often as I can,” Rhea promised the nymphs. “But how will you care for the baby?”
“Don’t sweat it,” said Neda, one of the nymphs. “We can feed him honey from the bees nearby. And for milk, we have an awesome immortal goat.”
“A what, now?” Rhea asked.
The nymphs brought in their goat Amaltheia, who produced excellent magical goat milk in many different flavors, including low fat, chocolate, and baby formula.
“Nice goat,” Rhea admitted. “But what if the baby cries? Kronos has incredible hearing up there on Mount Othrys. You may have noticed this kid has a set of lungs on him. Kronos will suspect something.”
Neda considered this. She led Rhea to the cave entrance and called out to the Earth Mother: “Oh, Gaea! I know you’re asleep, and all. Sorry to disturb you. But we could use some help guarding this kid! Preferably some very loud help!”
The ground rumbled again. Three new helpers emerged, born of dirt and the spilled blood of Ouranos (like I said, that stuff got everywhere). The new guys were large, hairy humanoids, dressed in fur and feathers and leather like they were on their way to some primeval festival deep in the rain forest. They were armed with spears and shields, so they looked more like headhunters than nursemaids.
“WE ARE THE KOURETES!” one shouted at the top of his lungs. “WE WILL HELP!”
“Thank you,” Rhea said. “Do you have to speak so loudly?”
“THIS IS MY INSIDE VOICE!” the warrior yelled.
Baby Zeus began crying again. The three warriors immediately busted out some sweet tribal dance moves, beating their spears on their shields and shouting and chanting. They covered up the crying just fine.
For some reason, Baby Zeus seemed to like the noise. He went to sleep in the nymph Neda’s arms, and the Kouretes stopped.
“Okay, well,” Rhea said, her ears popping, “looks like you have things under control here.” She hefted her fake baby. “Wish me luck.”
Once she got back to Mount Othrys, Rhea stormed into the throne room with her swaddled boulder. She was terrified her plan wouldn’t work, but after so many years married to Kronos, she was learning to be a good actress. She marched right up to King Cannibal and shouted, “This is the best baby yet! A fine little boy named, uh, Rocky! And I suppose you’re going to eat him!”
Kronos grimaced. Honestly, he wasn’t excited about swallowing another baby god. He was full! But when you’re king, you do what you have to do.
“Yeah—sorry, hon,” he said. “I have to. Prophecy, and all.”
“I hate you!” she screamed. “Ouranos was a horrible father, but at least he didn’t swallow us!”
Kronos snarled. “Give me that child!”
“No!”
Kronos roared. He unhinged his jaw and showed his extreme mouth-opening skills. “NOW!”
He snatched up the swaddled boulder and stuffed it down his throat without even looking at it, just as Rhea had hoped.
In Kronos’s belly, the five undigested young gods heard the rock rolling down the esophagus.
“Incoming!” yelled Poseidon.
They shifted—as much as they could in the cramped space—and Rocky landed in their midst.
“This is not a baby,” Hades noticed. “I think it’s a rock.”
He was observant that way.
Meanwhile, in the throne room, Rhea threw an Oscar-worthy tantrum. She screamed and stomped her feet