other words,” Hades said, “you want us to commit suicide.”
Poseidon leaned on his trident. “For once, I agree with Hades. If we march up the slopes of Mount Othrys, Atlas will be ready for us. His troops will have the high ground. They’ll smash us flat. If we try flying in, we’ll get shot out of the air. They’ve got plenty of anti-god missile weapons.”
Zeus’s eyes gleamed. “But I’ve got a different plan. We’ll soften them up by attacking from the next mountain over.”
“Do what, now?” asked Demeter. She looked uncomfortable in her armor, even though she’d designed it herself. She’d painted a sheaf of barley and a daisy on her shield, and for her main weapon she’d chosen a fearsome garden trowel.
Zeus drew a map of the Greek mainland in the dirt. Near Mount Othrys was another Greek mountain—not quite as tall, not as well known. It was called Mount Olympus.
“We scale Olympus,” Zeus said. “They won’t be expecting that, but Othrys will be within range of our missile weapons. The Hundred-Handed Ones will launch volleys of boulders. I’ll bust out the lightning. Poseidon will summon storms and earthquakes.”
“And I’ll turn invisible,” Hades muttered.
Zeus clapped his brother on the shoulder. “You have an important job too. You send waves of terror through the enemy ranks. Once we’ve destroyed their defenses, we all fly over there—”
“Including us three goddesses?” Demeter prompted. “We can fight too, you know.”
“Sure!” Zeus smiled nervously. “Did you think I’d forgotten you?”
“Yes,” said Demeter.
“Uh, anyway,” Zeus continued, “we fly over to Mount Othrys, smash anybody who’s left standing, and take them all prisoner.”
Hestia wrapped herself in her plain brown shawl. “I still think we should make peace.”
“NO!” the others yelled.
Hera tapped the dirt map. “It’s a crazy plan. I like it.”
So that night, under cover of darkness, the gods and their allies climbed Mount Olympus for the first time.
The next morning, as Helios rode his chick magnet into the sky, King Kronos awoke to a sound like thunder. Probably because it was thunder.
Storm clouds rolled in from every direction. Zeus hurled a lightning bolt that blasted the tallest tower into black marble shrapnel. The Hundred-Handed Ones chucked so many boulders toward Mount Othrys that when Kronos looked out his window, it seemed to be raining major appliances.
The beautiful palace domes imploded in mushroom clouds of dust. Walls crumbled. Columns fell like dominoes. The Hundred-Handed Ones had built Mount Othrys, and they knew exactly how to destroy it.
As the palace shook, Kronos grabbed his scythe and called his brethren to attack. But the thing was a) scythes really don’t do much against boulders and lightning, b) nobody could hear him over the noise, and c) the palace was disintegrating around him. Just as he was saying, “Titans, let’s go!”, a three-ton section of the ceiling collapsed on his head.
The battle was a massacre, if you can have a massacre where nobody dies.
A few Titans tried to counterattack, only to be buried in an avalanche of rubble and boulders.
After the initial assault, the gods flew over and mopped up the resistance. Poseidon summoned earthquakes to swallow their enemies. Hades popped up in random places and yelled, “Boo!” His helmet of terror (or his Boo Cap, as the others called it) sent Titans fleeing straight off the sides of cliffs, or into the waiting arms of the Elder Cyclopes.
When the dust settled and the storm clouds lifted, even the gods were in awe of what they’d done.
Not only was Kronos’s palace gone, but the entire top of Mount Othrys had been sheared away with it.
Did I tell you Othrys was the highest mountain in Greece? Not anymore. Today Mount Olympus, which used to be the smaller mountain, is over nine thousand feet tall. Mount Othrys is only five thousand and change. Zeus and the Hundred-Handed Ones had basically cut the mountain in half.
The Cyclopes dug the Titans out of the rubble and began chaining them up. None of them got away. General Atlas and the four brothers who controlled the corners of the earth were dragged before Zeus and made to kneel.
“Ah, my dear uncles!” Zeus chuckled. “Koios, Krios, Hyperion, Iapetus—you four are going straight to Tartarus, where you will remain for all time!”
The four brothers hung their heads in shame, but General Atlas laughed at his captors.
“Puny gods!” he bellowed. Even wrapped in chains, he was intimidating. “You know nothing of how the universe works. If you throw these four into Tartarus, the entire sky will fall! Only