Percy Jackson's Greek Gods (Percy Jackson and the Olympians companion #5.5) - Rick Riordan Page 0,64

trying to date her too. “If you can get me away from my other suitors,” Theophane said, “I’ll be your girlfriend. Just get me out of here!”

The earth rumbled. A deep voice said, “NO PROBLEM. TONIGHT, GO TO THE SHEEP PENS.”

That didn’t sound like much of a plan to Theophane, but when darkness fell, she put a veil over her face and tried to sneak out of the palace. Immediately she was spotted. Sixty guys swarmed her with bouquets of flowers, shouting, “Marry me! Marry me!”

Theophane ran for the sheep pens. She dodged a mob of guys with boxes of chocolates, then twelve dudes with guitars trying to serenade her.

By the time she reached the sheep pens, over a hundred suitors were at her heels. Theophane was so desperate she dove straight into the pens.

POOF!

Instantly she turned into a ewe—a female sheep—and was lost in the herd.

The mob of love-struck guys stopped and looked around, baffled. They searched the pens but couldn’t find Theophane anywhere. Eventually they gave up and went back to stake out the palace, figuring Theophane would return there sooner or later.

“Thank the gods!” bleated Theophane.

“You’re welcome,” said a big ram, right next to her.

Theophane gulped. (Can ewes gulp?) “Poseidon?”

The ram winked. “You like my new wool coat? Because I like ewe. Get it? Ewe?”

Theophane started to feel queasy. “I suppose I have to be your girlfriend now?”

“A deal’s a deal,” Poseidon said.

They had some quality time together as sheep, which I’m not going to go into, or I’ll get queasy myself. A few months later, the ewe Theophane gave birth to a magical ram named Krysomallos, who for some reason had wool made of gold.

Eventually, Krysomallos would be skinned for his fleece, which became known as the Golden Fleece, which means I am related to a sheepskin rug.

This is why you don’t want to think too hard about who you’re related to in the Greek myths. It’ll drive you crazy.

Last story about Poseidon, and it’s a tearjerker: how he almost took over the universe and ended up as a minimum-wage bricklayer.

Happened like this: Hera got it into her head that the gods should have a rebellion against Zeus.

I can’t blame her, really. Zeus could be a total diaper wipe. She decided that the universe would be in much better shape if it were run by the whole Olympian council like a democracy, so she gathered some of the other gods—Poseidon, Athena, and Apollo, the god of archery—and she told them her plan.

“We tie Zeus up,” Hera said.

Poseidon frowned. “That’s your plan?”

“Hey, I sleep in the same room with him,” Hera said. “When he’s in a deep sleep, snoring really loudly, I’ll call you guys in. We bind him tight. Then we force him to give up his throne so we can rule the cosmos together, as a council of equals.”

The others looked uncertain, but they all had reasons to dislike Zeus. He was erratic and quick to anger, and his weakness for pretty women had caused them all headaches.

Besides, each of the gods was secretly thinking, Hey, I could rule the universe better than Zeus. Once he’s gone, I could take over!

Poseidon was definitely tempted. Why not? With his big brother tied up, he would be the strongest god in the world.

“A council of equals,” Poseidon said. “Sure. I like it.”

“Right…” Athena glanced suspiciously at Poseidon. “A council.”

“Great,” Hera said. “Get some strong rope—the magical self-adjusting kind.”

“Where can you buy that?” Apollo wondered. “Home Depot?”

“I’ve got some,” Athena said.

“Of course you do,” Poseidon muttered.

“Enough!” Hera snapped. “Tonight, the three of you hide in the hallway and wait for my signal. When Zeus is asleep, I will call like a cuckoo.”

Poseidon wasn’t sure what a cuckoo sounded like, but he figured he’d know it when he heard it.

That night, Hera made sure Zeus ate a heavy dinner and drank only decaffeinated nectar. When he was fast asleep, she called for the others. They rushed in and tied up the king of the gods.

“Hrmmph?” Zeus snorted. “Wh-what is this?”

He began to struggle. He tried to reach his lightning bolts, but his arms were tied fast. His bolts were on the dresser on the other side of the room.

“TREASON!” he roared. “LET ME GO!”

He thrashed and tried to change form to get free of the rope, but the rope tightened every time he attempted to shape-shift. He yelled at the other gods and called them all sorts of unflattering names.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” he demanded.

Even completely bound, Zeus was