The Six Olympians

Chapter 1

Zack

Look, I didn't want to spend my Friday night breaking and entering into a government building—or any building, for that matter. So, if you're judging me ... just don't, okay? Plenty of time for that later. And I especially didn't want to be doing this with them—all of them, us, together. It brought back too many mashed-up, confusing, and frustrating memories—memories we had spent so much time forgetting. Or trying to forget, anyways. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you how we got here...

My name is Zack Hail, but I once believed my name was Zeus. In fact, I was certain of it. And so were five others—which is where it got tricky, because if it had just been me imagining it, then I'd be crazy, but when five other people agree... Well, we couldn't all be collectively crazy, could we? (Hint: we were.)

It all started on June 1, 2011, when we all suddenly "woke up" at seven years old in the Cornwall Hall for young boys and girls. It was like waking up from a very long, intense dream, in some place you don't even recognize. I remember looking at the dark grey accents and imposing brick walls—a far cry from the memories of glorious white marble columns and gold flecks that my mind still saw vividly. Of course, we soon discovered that this was our home, a boarding-school-meets-orphanage type of institution, led by Mrs. Harding, a cold and unforgivingly bitter woman with grey hair and ice-cold grey eyes, a perfect match for Cornwall Hall's somber hues. I remember the horror I felt taking in the cramped room full of bunk beds, where I still live today, and the scratchy burgundy sheets that make my whole body itch, contrasted with the silky sensation I'd felt in my dreams—dreams of Mount Othrys and the mythical Titans.

Everyone thought we were crazy when we began telling people who we were. Oh, I'm sorry: who we thought we were, because there was "no way in hell," as Mrs. Harding put it, that I was a seven-year old god named Zeus. Can you imagine? A seven-year old, whom you have known as Zack for his entire life since he was dumped on your doorstep as a baby, suddenly wakes up telling you he is a god named Zeus? Get out of here! But then five others wake up, claiming they're all gods too? It was total insanity. Every single person in our lives tried to talk us out of it—people, keep in mind, whom we didn't even remember. Hours and hours of begging us to stop this "elaborate prank" and just let it go. Days on end of being bullied by the other kids at Cornwall when they heard us calling each other ridiculous "made-up" names like Aphrodite or Poseidon. Honestly, I don't know how we kept believing it as long as we did. It's all so fuzzy.

I have no idea why we started this game, this story, this world, or why it became so hard to let go of. I just know it feels real ... felt real. Running through the fields atop Mount Othrys, glowing. Rhea smiling down at us while Kronos looked at us as if we were dangerous, with palpable disdain, with fear. Why this seemed engraved in our minds and in our hearts, I still don't know. If I'm being honest, nine years later, I still dream of this make-believe world we created, full of chariots, magic, and monsters. It's annoying as hell.

The worst part is, we were so sure. Nothing ever sat right with us about anything that we had supposedly experienced before the age of seven. We have no memory of ever being at Cornwall Hall before then—or ever being anywhere, for that matter. Nothing except the dreams. We fought so hard to hold onto what we thought was true, to the very identity we believed we possessed, from something as fundamental as where we came from and who our parents were to something as trivial as our names. But slowly, we all had to let it go in order to survive. We stopped calling ourselves by our "made-up" names and adopted the ones we were given. We stopped hanging out together as a group, because it was way too hard to let go of what we all believed when we were together. It never felt like a prank or a game between us, but clearly it was. At least, hours and hours of "therapy" have convinced me that it was. It's still confusing to this day—which is why we've done a great job of ignoring it for the past nine years.

But after what happened a few days ago ... we had to come together to try to figure things out. Why none of us remember anything before the age of seven. Why, even though I'm used to being Zack by now, I cannot look at Hailey without thinking, Hera. Or Harry as Hades. Children's games should not last this long. I don't see anyone else holding onto a make-believe game they played as kids almost nine years later. For that matter, I especially don't see anyone else with zero memories of their own childhood.

I look up at Aubrey Huxley (formerly Aphrodite), who is pushing her long, dark brown hair out of her hazel-green eyes as she tinkers with the alarm system. At Harry Black (formerly Hades), working on his two screens beside her, telling her what to do—or trying, anyway—while she snappishly dismisses him and continues doing it her way. I see Peter Hayes (formerly Poseidon) posted beside them, acting as a lookout, his big, bright sea-green eyes bulging out of his head nervously. Meanwhile, Hailey Kincaid (formerly Hera) is scanning the plan over and over with her almond-shaped brown eyes like the control freak she is... And the real reason why we all stopped being friends becomes evident. It's as if when I see them—any of them—my brain retaliates with a vivid memory of this dream, this game, this prank ... and I just have to sit there and take it.

This time, I'm standing in a big white marble hall full of columns and gold accents. I see Kronos, a mythical Titan who I once believed was my dad, fighting with Rhea, another mythical Titan who—you guessed it—I once believed was my mom. I still feel the distinct hatred towards Kronos and the affection towards Rhea that I've always felt. Kronos is standing near his golden, stone throne. He is big, tall, and imposing, with dark hair, a dark beard, and blazing brown eyes. Eyes that look exactly like mine. Right now they look angry, like sparks could shoot forth from them at any second. Beside him, Rhea—the most beautiful being I have ever seen, with glowing fair skin and sparkling caramel hair—looks at him pleadingly but angrily with her stunning emerald eyes.

"You cannot banish our children, Kronos!" she insists, clearly annoyed at hearing this idea again. "Banishing them will only give them more reason to overthrow you."

"SILENCE!" he shouts. "I can do as I please, Rhea. I am the king of the universe."

"They are our kids. They are your very own flesh and blood, your legacy."

"They will be my UNDOING!" he thunders, sending chills down my back, even though I would never admit it. It's just a hallucination, for gods' sakes.

Rhea rolls her eyes as he composes himself.

"The prophecy says so," he finally adds, adjusting his robes.

"The prophecy..." Rhea says under her breath, exasperated.

"'It will be your fate to be overthrown by your children, just as you overthrew your own father,'" Kronos recites automatically, as he has so many times before.

"We have been over this!" Rhea snaps, trying to sound convincing, yet wavering in her words. "It is not real."

"Come on," he says, catching the tremor in the last word. "You and I both know they grow stronger every day. They are dangerous. They are different. They are ... godly."

"They are children."

"ENOUGH, WOMAN!" he roars, making the whole hall tremble.

Suddenly, Rhea cuts off her rebuttal to look towards the back of the hall. A little head is poking out of a marble wall—a kid who cannot be older than seven, with dark hair and big brown eyes. A kid I recognize all too well: Harry. Impotence rises in my body as I watch in slow motion how Kronos looks at Rhea as if this only proves his point. He then starts walking towards Harry, his eyes screaming bloody murder as Rhea cries and shouts at him.

It all goes black as I slowly come back to reality. No one is even slightly fazed by my little episode, which is the only silver lining of us all being back together. They all have these episodes too, so I get none of the weird stares or the laughter. I haven't had one of these in such a long time that I'd forgotten how real they feel. Hailey looks at me with pity for under a second with her sparkling eyes before she goes back to ushering us all in.

Surprisingly, the amount of time I was "under" was enough for Aubrey and Hades—Harry, I remind myself—to work their magic and override the alarm system. I compose myself and rush in, trying not to think about what happens next in the vision. I know what happens next. I have seen it in way too many of my dreams already, and it still sends chills down my spine to think about it. He makes him disappear. He makes Harry disappear. And later that night, he makes the rest of us disappear.