THE HEALER| Heroes of Olympus

f o u r

The gold wings were overkill

I could dig the chariot and the two white horses. I was okay with Nike's glittering sleeveless dress and Nike's piled-up braids of dark hair circled with a gilded laurel wreath.Her expression was wide-eyed and a little crazy, like she'd just had twenty espressos and ridden a roller coaster, but that didn't bother me. I could even deal with the gold-tipped spear pointed at my chest.

But those wings – they were polished gold, right down to the last feather. I could admire the intricate workmanship, but it was too much, too bright, too flashy. If her wings had been solar panels, Nike would've produced enough energy to power Miami.

"Lady," Leo said, "could you fold your flappers, please? You're giving me a sunburn."

"What?" Nike's head jerked towards him like a startled chicken's. "Oh ... my brilliant plumage. Very well. I suppose you can't die in glory if you are blinded and burned."

She tucked in her wings. The temperature dropped to a normal hundred-and-twenty-degree summer afternoon.

I glanced at my friends. Jasper stood still sizing up the goddess. He hadn't brought out his spear yet which probably meant he was too freaked out. 

Hazel was having trouble with Arion. The roan stallion nickered and bucked, avoiding eye contact with the white horses pulling Nike's chariot. And Leo...he was being Leo. 

I decided somebody had better say something before we all died in glory.

"So!" I pointed my index fingers at Nike. "I didn't get the briefing, and I'm pretty sure the information wasn't covered in Jasper's pamphlet. Could you tell me what's going on here?"Nike's wide-eyed stare unnerved me.

"We must have victory!" the goddess shrieked. "The contest must be decided! You have come here to determine the winner, yes?"

Jasper cleared his throat. "Are you Nike or Victoria?""Argghh!" The goddess clutched the side of her head. Her horses reared, causing Arion to do the same.

The goddess shuddered and split into two separate images, which reminded me – ridiculously – of when I used to lie on the floor in my house as a kid and play with the coiled doorstop on the skirting board. I would pull it back and let it fly: sproing! The stopper would shudder back and forth so fast it looked like it was splitting into two separate coils.

That's what Nike looked like: a divine doorstop, splitting in two.

On the left was the first version: glittery sleeveless dress, dark hair circled with laurels, golden wings folded behind her. On the right was a different version, dressed for war in a Roman breastplate and greaves. Short auburn hair peeked out from the rim of a tall helmet. Her wings were feathery white, her dress purple, and the shaft of her spear was fixed with a plate-sized Roman insignia – a golden SPQR in a laurel wreath.

"I am Nike!" cried the image on the left.

"I am Victoria!" cried the one on the right.

The goddess was literally saying two different things at once. She kept shuddering and splitting, making me dizzy. 

"I am the decider of victory!" Nike screamed. "Once I stood here at the corner of Zeus's temple, venerated by all! I oversaw the games of Olympia. Offerings from every city-state were piled at my feet!"

"Games are irrelevant!" yelled Victoria. "I am the goddess of success in battle! Roman generals worshiped me! Augustus himself erected my altar in the Senate House!"

"Ahhhh!" both voices screamed in agony. "We must decide! We must have victory!"

Arion bucked so violently that Hazel had to slide off his back to avoid getting thrown. Before she could calm him down, the horse disappeared, leaving a vapor trail through the ruins.