New Olympus Trilogy: Teenage Goddess Teenage Star Hell on Earth Read online

  NEW OLYMPUS TRILOGY:

  Teenage Goddess

  Teenage Star

  Hell on Earth

  May Burnett

  Contents of the Omnibus Edition:

  Teenage Goddess

  Teenage Star

  FALL

  WINTER

  SPRING

  SUMMER

  Hell on Earth

  1 Melinda

  2 Hell

  3 Melinda

  4 Melinda

  5 Hell

  6 Melinda

  7 Melinda

  8 Melinda

  9 Melinda

  10 Hell

  11 Hell

  12 Melinda

  13 Hell

  14 Melinda

  15 Hell

  16 Melinda

  17 Hell

  18 Melinda

  19 Melinda

  20 Melinda

  21 Hell

  22 Melinda

  23 Melinda

  About the Author

  Teenage Goddess

  Children of New Olympus

  May Burnett

  1

  My 16th birthday party was the best ever. I unpacked so many gifts I can't even remember most of them. Psyche gave me a little mirror that would always show me my real mood, Phoebus an ordinary-looking torch that could convert night to day, and day to night, for a whole mile around me. Pallas gave me a tablet with inbuilt wisdom and knowledge, as long as I asked the right questions.

  Various other relatives gave me running shoes that would make me run a mile a minute, and a necklace that doubled as a blinding weapon when I said a special word. Uncle Poseidon sent a miniature but functional submarine. As New Olympus is on the seashore, this gift would come in very useful.

  The birthday cake was baked with Ambrosia. I had so much that if we deities were susceptible to upset stomachs, I would surely have suffered. As it was, I could make a pig out of myself with impunity. It rocks to be the youngest daughter of Zeus and Hera.

  From Dad, I had asked a special boon, to be named on the day of my birthday. After we’d drunk and eaten our fill and admired all the presents, Daddy asked me for my wish. All the other gods were listening with open curiosity; Mom looked a bit disapproving.

  I conjured a recent edition of Seventeen and pointed to the hot blond guy on the cover, escorting some starlet. “I want to meet and get to know this boy.” I told Dad.

  His brow furrowed. “What? A young human?”

  I bristled at his derisive tone. “Jason Mackenzie is the biggest teenage idol in the English-speaking world. He sings and dances and acts and has starred in five movies before he turned sixteen! And he’s been top of the charts for the last three months.” All the adults smiled at my enthusiasm, but I charged ahead, as I’d planned. “I just want to get to know him. Anything else will depend on how we get on.”

  “Aren’t you too young for that sort of thing?” Dad was still frowning, a fearful sight if you didn’t know him as well as I did.

  “I’ve just turned sixteen, Dad! In former times girls were married and had children at my age!”

  “She has a point,” Pallas said. “Even today, sixteen is a perfectly normal age for a young woman to start flirting and experimenting, if she hasn’t yet. Our little Myra has to begin sometime.”

  My younger brother Hell (short for Heliobardus, of all things) had a more practical objection. “If this Jason is such a star, what makes you think he’ll give you a second look? These guys are used to having groupies all over the place.”

  “Surely a young goddess would be good enough for any human boy,” Mom said, though it was clear she wasn’t too happy with my request.

  “But she can’t meet him as a goddess, since we are keeping a low profile these days.” Hell was pragmatic as usual. He turned to me. “Just what did you have in mind?”

  “When he’s not doing a film or recording, Jason Mackenzie attends the Rockview Academy in Colorado, an exclusive boarding school. I want to go there and be in his class.”

  Everyone was stunned at my words.

  “You’re willing to go to a human school? With classes and teachers?” Dad was maybe the most surprised of all. “Do you have any idea how much you’ll suffer there?”

  “Boredom is the least of it,” Pallas confirmed. “School in these days is the way young humans are trained and conditioned for a life of senseless activity at the behest of selfish masters. It crushes their spirit and kills their intellect.”

  “This would only be for one term. Surely my spirit and intellect can survive that long.”

  Hermes grinned. “It might be educational, in more ways than one.”

  Dad turned to our human major-domo, Mr Jenkins, whose duties include the arrangement of our trips whenever we leave New Olympus.

  “Can it be done?”

  Jenkins did not let me down. He really is a darling. “Yes, I think so. Since money’s no object, it should be possible, using our special connections down there.”

  Father turned to me. “Very well. Myra, you’ll have no powers that an ordinary human girl would not have while you attend this school. Be careful and don’t be surprised if this Jason turns out to be a jerk. Most young men are at that age, especially if they are successful already. You have one term – and I’ll be very interested to hear how you like it.”

  Mom was not satisfied. “What if there's some emergency, and Myra is powerless? What if our daughter runs into a criminal who harms her? I can’t agree to that.”

  “In an emergency, or if you have had enough of school and this Jason, you can call on me in old Greek,” Pallas offered. “I’ll come and get you out of there.”

  “Fine, but that will be the end of it,” Dad decreed. “Once you call for help, you can’t ever go back.”

  “I won’t need to,” I confidently asserted. What were they taking me for? A baby?

  “I’ll go along with Myra,” Hell announced to general surprise. “She shouldn’t be all alone down there among human teenagers. They can be ferocious.”

  I glared at him. A baby brother hanging around and crimping my style had not been part of my plans. But everyone else immediately went along with his offer. And I didn’t hear anyone propose stripping Hell of his powers.

  Life is so unfair.

  2

  Mr Jenkins had come through, and soon we were on our way to Rockview with ordinary luggage, sitting in a slow human car. Father’s minions had thoroughly checked my suitcases for contraband; I’d had to leave all my magical birthday gifts behind.

  Jenkins was playing driver. His stolid face and unobtrusive fortyish appearance, which he’d maintained for over a century (one of the perks of his job) was perfect for the part.

  Mingling with humans was not an entirely new experience for us, as our family goes to a different human vacation spot every summer, incognito of course. That was how I had learned to interact with children and teenagers.

  “It’s different during vacation; more relaxed,” Jenkins had told me. He is our resident specialist on human behaviour. But who was he kidding? I had watched movies and read books and magazines written by, and for, actual present-day teenagers. I was prepared.

  As for Hell, nobody ever worried about him. Although only fourteen, he was the smartest god in New Olympus and had a talent for getting out of trouble in devious ways.

  We were supposed to be the children of a Swiss pharmaceutical magnate, sent to school in the US because of our parents’ messy divorce, and to prepare us for attending some Ivy League college.

  “Just why are you so interested in this Jason
guy?” Hell asked me as we watched the magnificent mountains flit by the BMW’s tinted windows. He may have been privately tutored by Pallas, because no other god could keep up with his brains, but he can be clueless. I sighed.

  “You’ll understand when you’re older,” I said loftily, a reply calculated to annoy him.

  He just gave me an evil grin in return. “Oh, Myra, I’m really looking forward to this.”

  I turned my head away and looked out of the window some more. The peaks were snow-capped. I wondered if the school had ski outings on their programme; it would get colder in a couple of months. Why hadn’t I bothered to read the brochure Mr Jenkins had printed out for me?

  It had seemed more important to quickly assemble a modern wardrobe, not easy as our Olympic fashions clearly weren’t suitable. What I had left from previous summer vacations was not nearly warm enough, and anyway, no longer fit across my chest. Without Aphrodite’s help I couldn’t have managed. The socks and closed shoes sat uncomfortably on my feet, used to going bare or with thin open sandals.

  On arrival we were received by a stern-looking woman, who told us she was Mrs Acton, the Matron of the girls’ wing. A young man whisked Hell away to the boys’ quarters. Mrs Acton showed me to a smallish but private room with its own bath, wardrobe, and a barred window three stories above ground. My luggage would be brought by a servant, she said before she left.

  Then it was time for the interview with the headmaster. Classes were to begin the next day only.

  Dr. Hollingham’s office was big and imposing, calculated to impress parents and intimidate students. Several framed diplomas from Yale decorated the walls.

  Hell was already there when I was ushered in by the school secretary, Mrs Balz.

  “Let me welcome the two of you,” the headmaster said in a deep voice, looking us over with covert interest. “We were not going to accept any additional students, particularly at such short notice, but your circumstances are extraordinary.”

  Not sure to what part of our cover story this remark referred, I just smiled, while Hell said earnestly, “We are grateful.”

  “Still, I wonder, can you keep up academically? Your reports are excellent, but the standards of different schools can vary greatly from subject to subject.”

  “We’ll do our best,” I said, and Hell added, “I am glad you brought that up, Sir. I had a look at the curriculum of my grade, and find I have already covered the entire subject matter. If you let me prove it to your satisfaction, would it be possible to attend the same class as Myra instead?”

  Dr. Hollingham stared at Hell, who just looked back at him calmly.

  “We’ll just see about that,” the headmaster said, a bit grimly. He then dismissed me and told Hell to remain behind.

  If he was trying to catch my little brother out, he was in for a surprise. Knowing Hell, I’d bet even money that he’d manage to be in the same grade as Jason and I, despite being only fourteen. What a pain.

  I went back to my room and glumly put my things away in the closet.

  3

  At dinner I finally met some of my future classmates. It felt strange to be the new girl in the group. They were polite enough, if a bit distant, as I exchanged names with a bunch of them just before the meal. All these boys and girls already had their own friends and cliques, and were not particularly eager to open up to me. Reluctant to obtrude where I was not wanted, after selecting my food I took my tray to an empty table near the buffet.

  The main dish was a bland, boring chicken with rice and vegetables. If I had not been deprived of my powers, I could have unobtrusively improved the taste, but I would live.

  As I ate I watched and listened to the conversations around me. Even without my divine powers, my hearing was still far superior to the human average. Just as Mr Jenkins had told me, these teenagers were not like the children and young people I had met on our vacations in Greece, Thailand, or Antigua. They were the ultra-privileged children of the very rich, and, considering our young age, surprisingly conscious of it.

  My clothes passed muster, I thought – if barely. I was as tall and good-looking as any of them, but still they had treated me like an outsider who yet had to prove that she could belong. Maybe my supposed Swiss nationality had something to do with it.

  “Hello – are you new?” a small Hispanic-looking girl asked me, just as I had decided to give up on the rest of my chicken. “What’s your name?”

  “Myra Dollinger. I’m from Switzerland. And you?”

  “Melinda Garcia Lobos, from Colombia.” Melinda plunked herself down next to me. “What do you think of our food?”

  “Uh – I’m sure I can become accustomed to it. I just don’t know if I want to.”

  She giggled. “I have my parents send me spicy sauce, which makes it marginally better. You’re welcome to try it.”

  “If it’s made from those tiny red peppers, I think I’ll pass; thanks anyway. Are we in the same grade? Are there any other non-Americans in it?”

  She shook her head at me. “Colombians are Americans too, you know. It’s just that these people in the US think their country is the whole continent.”

  “Oh, of course. I beg your pardon.” I wondered how popular that kind of attitude made her among the rest of the group. “Is it true that Jason Mackenzie is also in the same class?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re a fan.”

  “I like some of his music… Is he popular among the students?”

  “He’s ok. Half the time he’s gone to some rehearsal or recording or shooting a movie, and then he has to catch up on the stuff he missed; he hardly gets to socialize with the rest of us.”

  I grimaced.

  “And when he does, he usually hangs out with Christabel.”

  “Who’s she?”

  “The queen bee of our class. Her mother’s people are retail billionaires; the grandfather was the previous Vice-President. She sometimes deigns to speak to us lesser mortals.”

  “Oh.” I looked around the room. Melinda pointed her head towards a stunning, slender red-head two tables over, surrounded by a group of students of both genders. “That’s her. She’s beautiful on top of everything. Really depressing.”

  “You’re pretty, too,” I said, but she shook her head.

  “Pretty doesn’t cut it in this crowd.” She scrutinized me critically. “You on the other hand could be beautiful, if you cut and coloured your hair, lengthened your lashes and wore some make-up. Those boobs are already great. All natural?”

  “Certainly,” I replied, a bit taken aback.

  “Certainly,” Melinda repeated. “’Sure’ would have been enough. Your English is too formal, sort of grown-up. You’ll have to drop that.”

  “If I can.”

  “Hello, sis,” I heard from behind, and saw Hell approaching with a tray of the chicken and some pinkish pudding on the side. He joined our table. “We’ll be in the same class, it seems.”

  I nodded, resignedly. “In that case I’ll expect you to help me with math, if necessary. This is Melinda, from Colombia. Melinda, my brother Hell, er, Helmuth.”

  “Buenas tardes, Melinda,” Hell said, and they briefly broke into a fast Spanish dialogue. I preferred to look around a bit more, hoping for a glimpse of Jason. After a couple of minutes, Melinda said, “Where did you learn Spanish so well?”

  “Vacations in South America,” Hell said, vaguely. “Myra is just as fluent.”

  Melinda smiled at me. “Good for you.”

  “I find languages easy, but math is another story. What languages will we be having?”

  “French, Latin, Spanish, and some German and Italian for those who are interested.”

  “No Russian, Chinese or Arabic?”

  “Nope.”

  “No challenge there,” Hell concluded.

  “You look a bit young for our grade,” Melinda said to him.

  “He’s fourteen, but his IQ is off the charts,” I explained.

  “Look out for Paul, then
. Don’t let him catch you all alone. He’s a bully, and has it in for anyone with good grades.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Hell replied, grinning in anticipation. This Paul wouldn’t know what hit him if he ever tried it on with my little brother. “Does he bully girls as well?”

  “Not usually. He already feels superior to all of us, I guess.”

  Hell and I exchanged looks. Maybe even without Jason, this school jaunt might offer some interesting possibilities.

  4

  I didn’t see Jason until the start of history class the next morning. He’d arrived straight from L.A. and came in looking a bit sleepy and rumpled and delicious. I could have given up ambrosia forever in exchange for his company. I knew better than to betray these feelings, though a faint flush crept over my whole body.

  The lack of my powers was a great nuisance. I’d looked at myself critically, after Melinda’s remarks, and had to admit that she was right: by current standards I was too unadorned. What was the use of perfectly smooth skin, good teeth and even features, if the result looked boring? I also suspected that my overly straight nose, which I share with the rest of my family, was no longer in fashion these days. Modern people mostly had a small dip where the nose begins.

  Normally I relied on my divine glamor, a whole-body shining light I could turn on or dim down at will. It made me irresistibly attractive to any human, male or female. I’d been instantly popular with the young people I had met on our holidays, without making any effort. It had seemed only natural to expect that I could also fascinate Jason as soon as we met.

  Had Dad been trying to deliberately sabotage my first serious attempt to attract a boy? If so, that was grossly unfair; he had used his own glamor in the distant past to make out with a variety of human females, sometimes under very questionable circumstances. Mom still had not quite forgiven him.

  If he expected me to give up right away, he was mistaken. At least the other girls were only human, too, so the playing field was even. I had a lot to work with, and unlimited funds. If Jason was not attracted to me, maybe we were not meant to be; but I’d give it a good try.