"Here, try this on," Markos' sister murmured.
Julia took the chiton that the older girl held out.
As soon as the kids had entered the house, Helene had taken Julia away.
First she'd brought Julia into the kitchen and given her some figs to eat.
Then she'd taken Julia to change clothes.
"Why can't I wear my own clothes?" Julia glanced down at her jeans and T-shirt.
"Father says we're supposed to help you and Brody blend in so Zeus doesn't notice you," Helene said.
"If you insist on wearing such strange garments, you won't be allowed out of the house."
Julia didn't like the sound of that. She put on the chiton and a pair of leather sandals.
When the girls returned to the courtyard, Brody and Markos were already there.
Brody was dressed in a short chiton, like the one Markos wore.
"This is stupid," Brody was saying loudly.
"If any of the guys on the football team saw me wearing a dress—"
"How are they going to see you?" Julia snapped at him.
"In case you forgot, Brody, we're in ancient Greece!"
Before Brody could respond, Hermes appeared in a blast of light.
"Good, they've found you some proper clothing," he said.
"Let's go. It's time to start your training."
"I'll come along, if you don't mind." Markos bowed to Hermes.
"My father ordered me not to let your champion out of my sight."
"Good, good. Come along then, boy," Hermes said.
Julia stepped forward. "I'm coming too."
Markos hesitated, but Hermes shrugged. "If having your companion along makes you run faster, Brody, she may come."
"I don't care if she comes or not," Brody said.
But Hermes was already striding toward the exit, the wings on his sandals fluttering with excitement.
"I'm coming," Julia whispered to Brody with a frown.
"We still need to figure out how to escape.
And we can't do that if I'm stuck in the house."
"Escape? Why would I want to escape?" Brody flexed his muscles. "I'm going to be an Olympic champion!"
He hurried after Hermes. With a sigh Julia followed.
Olympia's gymnasium was a long, low building with a huge, grassy courtyard.
At least a dozen men and boys were exercising in the courtyard, tossing spears, stretching, or racing down a marked track.
Several other gods were there too.
"Who's that?" Julia asked, staring at a god with flaming red hair.
Hermes followed her gaze. "Ares, of course.
Don't let him hear that you don't recognize him—he's quite vain."
"Ares, the god of war?" Julia couldn't help being impressed.
After learning about the gods in school, it was actually pretty cool to see them in real life.
Hermes wasn't paying attention to her anymore. He was focused on his new champion.
"Now, what is your best distance, my boy?" he asked Brody.
"Best distance for what?" Brody asked.
"Running, of course." Hermes sounded impatient. "Every mortal athlete is better at some events than others.
So, what's your specialty? The stadion, the diaulos? Perhaps the dolichos?"
Julia remembered that these were the names of different footraces, but Brody looked totally confused.
"Brody isn't really a runner," she told Hermes.
"I mean, he's not on the track team or anything like that."
"Track?" Brody made a face. "No way! Those guys are nerds. I play football."
"Foot?" Markos said, looking down. "Ball?"
"What?" Hermes frowned at Brody in confusion.
"But I saw you running like the wind.
I watched you outpace the other mortals.
Are you telling me that you are not a runner?"
"Sure, I run all the time," Brody said.
"I'm fast, like you said. That's why I make so many touchdowns."
"Touchdowns?" Markos echoed. "What are they?"
"Duh, it's how you score." Brody shrugged.
"Haven't you guys ever seen a football game?"
Julia poked him in the arm. "Duh, of course, they haven't," she said.
"Football wasn't invented back then. I mean now."
Hermes still looked a bit upset about Brody's lack of running experience.
"Let's stop wasting time," he said impatiently.
Under his breath he muttered, "We may have even more training to do than I expected."
Julia glanced at the athletes in the courtyard again. "So which event will Brody enter?"
"All of them, of course," Hermes said.
"But we'll begin with the simplest—the footraces."
He pointed to the track and told Brody to run to the far end and back.
Julia and Markos watched as Brody repeated the course again and again, until he was dripping with sweat.
"Is it time for a break yet?" Brody asked after his eleventh run.
"Hermes! There you are," a voice called out.
Julia looked up to see another god striding toward them.
"Dionysus, you rascal," Hermes exclaimed. "What are you doing here?
Have you decided to enter the Games this time?"
"Of course not. What would I know of athletics?"
Dionysus laughed heartily, patting his plump belly.
"I'm in search of some good food and drink, and for pleasant company to join me."
"You've found the pleasant company, my friend," Hermes responded.
"And I'm ready to take a break for some good food and drink. Training a champion is exhausting."
Dionysus eyed Brody. "So this is your champion, hmm?
I hear you found him in the most distant reaches of Greece."
"Something like that." Hermes winked at Brody.
"Now let's go find that food and drink."
Without another word to the kids, Hermes headed off with Dionysus.
"Whew!" Brody collapsed on the ground and mopped his brow.
"Hermes is worse than my football coach."
Markos nodded sympathetically. "It's difficult for the gods to remember the limits of human endurance.
I think Hermes was pleased with your performance, though, Brody."
"How could you tell?" Julia asked.
Markos shrugged. "Well, Hermes didn't kill him!"