"I meant..." he said weakly.

Ares showed a lot of teeth from behind his black beard. "Good. My sword needs fresh meat." He moved toward Christopher. David started to draw his own sword, but suddenly Athena was there, putting her hand on his arm.

Dionysus, bless him, stepped forward, smiling at Zeus. "This mortal saved my life, Father. I promised him immortality in return."

Zeus now looked like a dignified, older man. Kind of like Sean Connery with more hair and a gray Ulysses S. Grant beard. But there was a light inside him. As if beneath the skin was molten steel. As if touching him might crisp your finger. I could still only look at him for a few seconds before I felt uncomfortably warm and began to writhe in discomfort.

Zeus laughed. "Oh, Dionysus. Last time you offered immortality it was to that maiden, the blond. The one who inherited some special vineyard."

Dionysus spread his hands. "She was beautiful, she was willing, and she owns some of the finest grapes ever to grace a vine. That face! That body! That wine!"

There was a bit of a laugh from the gods. Then Zeus laughed and the laughter spread. Ares realized his killing spree had been called off. So did Christopher and he nearly swooned.

"If immortality you have vowed, then immortality he shall have," Zeus said. "We rejoice that you escaped Ka Anor, Dionysus. What would our revels be without you? Step forward, mortal."

Christopher took one step forward. Thought about it and took two more. "Um, no thanks," he said, and stepped back.

Zeus blinked. "You refuse immortality?"

"Yeah. I mean, yes, sir. Your...your godhood."

"No one refuses immortality," Zeus said. "Do they?"

"No," came a chorus of disgruntled voices.

"It's not that I don't think it's cool," Christopher said. "It's just that I don't deserve it. Ganymede saved my life. But when I might have saved him, I ran. So it's, like, this is in payment. It's kind of an honor thing."

Zeus looked blank. All the gods and all their servants looked blank.

David and Jalil looked amazed.

"Say what?" Jalil muttered.

"Look, it's no big thing. I pay what I owe people, all right? I didn't pay Ganymede. This is how I pay the price."

Only Apollo showed any comprehension. "You feel you owe a debt."

"Yeah. Yes. Sir."

"Yes, well, it's a very stupid thing to do," Apollo said.

"Well," Zeus said, clearly nonplussed. "Now what?"

"We've been insulted!" Ares bellowed. "Cast this mortal down. Let him fall for a week and then let him be plunged into the depths of the sea!"

"Oh, shut up, Ares," Artemis muttered.

Ares lunged toward her, sword raised. I recoiled instinctively. Artemis was on her feet, an arrow in her bow, string drawn back to her ear in less time that it took me to flinch.

The two gods glared at each other. Bloody sword and graceful bow ready, quivering.

The attractive older goddess who I later learned was Hera began yelling, mostly at Artemis, as though it was her fault. Apollo, for no apparent reason, was berating Dionysus. In a flash two dozen gods were yelling, screaming, roaring and threatening. The sound shook the marble floor. Dark clouds boiled into view, covering the sun.

It was as if someone had thrown a switch. In a few seconds the immortals had become crazed, raving lunatics. Lunatics with the power to alter reality around them through the sheer force of emotion. A whirlwind was forming, a tornado that swirled around the stage. Thunder boomed. Electricity crackled. At least three of the gods stormed away, slamming brutally through unwary servants who scattered before them or were crushed underfoot.

I covered my ears with both hands. I was standing inside a thunderstorm. The wind tore at my clothes, whipped my hair into my face, stinging my eyes. The force of it nearly knocked me down. I was one of those news people standing out in the hurricane holding onto a streetlamp and yelling, "The winds are really powerful, Dan!"

Madness. One minute they were talking, lounging around like it was an unhappy family reunion, the next minute they were snarling dogs.

Only Athena stood apart, watching, her lip curled in contempt. She stood in a pocket of calm. No wind touched her. I almost believed that no crash of thunder or bellow reached her.

"We need to back slowly out of this room," David said, yelling to be heard over the uproar and the wind. "These guys are nuts. Slowly. Don't turn away from them."

I agreed. These creatures were insane. These creatures were dangerous. We began to back away, holding onto each other to keep from being blown down.

"Hold!" Zeus said in his crack-the-walls voice.

The bickering and shouting didn't stop. But we did.

"I can't move," Jalil said. He shot me a desperate look. I couldn't move, either. My feet had been Krazy Glued to the floor. I could writhe, I could lean and struggle, but I could not move my feet.

Zeus stood, towering over the other gods, and he was growing larger still. He was fully humanoid now. I guess that's the word. He looked like a human. Sean Connery with a beard. A very angry Sean Connery with massive thunderbolts crackling and snapping in his fist.

He took a step forward, kicked Dionysus with one gold-sandaled foot, and sent our most familiar god tumbling and skidding across the floor. Then he reached down one garage-door-sized hand and yanked Ares up by his heels. Ares kicked impotently, his head swinging just a foot off the floor.

Zeus threw the god of war. Threw him tumbling through the air till he slammed backward into a third-story pillar that seemed to be a likeness of Hera.

Ares fell to the floor. Took a few seconds, like an injured football player, then stood up, obviously winded.

"Ares is angry!" Ares yelled between gasps for breath.

"Zeus is angry!" Zeus thundered, playing his own name like a trump card. He drew back a crackling lightning bolt, ready to launch it.

"I will fight no more for Olympus!" Ares cried, sounding a lot like a big, very dangerous five-year-old. He stormed -- literally -- from the room, pushing his way through two pillars and cracking each in the process.

Now the bickering settled down a little. One by one the gods, many red in the face from rage, quieted. The storm was gone.

I was shaken. Alarmed. I let go of Christopher's hand, pushed my hair back into place, and untwisted my dress.

"Here's an idea," Christopher whispered. "No one say anything to piss them off."

"We've lost Ares," Heracles said gloomily.

"We've lost little enough, then," Athena said dismissively.

A reduced number of gods settled back into chairs or standing poses. The whirlwind had dissipated. The thunder was silent. The sky above cleared.

"And they wonder why they're getting their butts kicked by the Hetwan," David said under his breath.

But not so quietly that Athena failed to hear. "What did you say, mortal?"

"David, remember me saying 'Don't piss them off again'?" Christopher moaned.

"Yeah. You know what? Screw their little temper tantrums. I'm tired of this. This is what comes from having your butt kissed for thousands of years. Reality time for the gods starts right now."

I think all three of us were proud of David at that moment.