He bleated, but when he saw who it was, he stared after her with an admiring, doe-eyed look. Her long golden hair, held in place by seashell clips, streamed behind her as she dodged past a godboy who was part goat. Aphrodite, the most gorgeous of Persephone’s friends, raced toward the two girls across gleaming marble tiles. “Hey, you guys, wait up!” called a goddessgirl in a pale blue chiton-the flowing gown that was all the rage among goddesses and mortal Greek women right now. The academy was filled with paintings celebrating the exploits of the gods and goddesses. Persephone’s eyes flickered over a painting on the wall beyond it, showing Helios, the sun god, mounting to the sky in his horse-drawn carriage. The two goddessgirls continued past a golden fountain.

She was the brainiest of Persephone’s friends, and also the youngest, though they were all in the same grade. “Hi, Athena.” Persephone pointed to the pile of scrolls. That means one hundred seventeen days to go!” Then he struck his lyrebell again with a little hammer.Ī brown-haired goddessgirl carrying so many scrolls she could barely see over the top of them fell into step beside Persephone. “The twenty-third day of the school year is now at an end,” he announced in a loud, important voice.

As she joined the throng of godboys and goddessgirls streaming into the hallway, a herald appeared on the balcony above them. Persephone crammed the textscroll she’d been reading into her scrollbag and got up to leave the library. A LYREBELL PINGED, SIGNALING THE end of another Monday at Mount Olympus Academy.

Persephone the Phony by Joan Holub