“Anyway, one of the many benefits of the modern world is that far fewer people are hungry. It’s heartening to see humanity improve and develop over the centuries.”
I put my chopsticks down. It annoyed me so much when Dad brought up this conversation. Humanity may have “developed” since the days of no soap or plumbing, but there are still some terrible things going on in the world.
As if he predicted my incoming rant, Dad held up one palm to stop me from interrupting.
“Yes, yes, I know. Humanity is far from perfect. Fewer people may be starving, but inequality is rife the world over. Helen, you don’t have to tell me. I’ve seen it all,” Dad said. “But I have to give credit where it’s due. The world is a far kinder place to live now than it was three thousand years ago.”
While Dad flagged down the waiter for the bill, I wondered what would have happened if Mum had never jumped on her bike. Or if that driver had never knocked her over, or if she’d held on until the ambulance arrived. Would she be here with Dad and me, tutting because I decided to eat meat even though she raised me vegetarian? Would I even have a relationship with Dad beyond monthly trips to museums? No Maria, Aphrodite or Eros. No creaking house filled with ancient artefacts. No gods interfering with my life.
No trial. It didn’t take long for my thoughts to return to that. The restaurant was practically empty after the lunchtime rush. My questions couldn’t wait any longer. But where to begin?
“Dad. I’ve been meaning to ask. Why does Cranus have it in for you?” I phrased my question carefully. Even though the restaurant was practically empty after the lunchtime rush, I didn’t want to risk being overheard.
Dad sipped his tea. “Some years ago, Cranus’s wife came to me for counsel. She was desperate for a separation, and he wouldn’t agree to it,” he said. “I overruled Cranus and assisted her in starting a new life far away from him. Unfortunately, he remains bitter about it to this day.”
“So he blames you for stealing his wife?”
“Something like that, yes,” he said. “Ever since, Cranus has been looking for the perfect opportunity to pounce.”
My heart sank. “And Cranus is on the Council, right?”
Dad nodded. “He’s their most powerful and longstanding member. Ultimately the Council strives for fairness, but Cranus holds a good deal of power. It will make our trial … challenging.”
I started to wish I hadn’t asked. Was it better to go into the trial knowing what to expect?
I was dreading it either way.
“I don’t know how best to prepare you for the days ahead, Helen,” Dad said, as if reading my thoughts. “But I’ll answer any questions you have.”
“What will I have to do? At the trial?”
A waiter brought a fresh pot of jasmine tea for Dad and took my empty plate. We were quiet until he disappeared back into the kitchen.
“A trial – especially one involving us – is quite the event back home,” Dad said. He was also being careful with his words. “Many people will be interested in the trial. And interested in you, too.”
“Why?” I didn’t have immortal life or special powers. I was just another half-mortal child of a god. There have been plenty of those in history.
Dad looked surprised at my question. “Because you’re a child of Zeus.” Did he realize how pompous he sounded talking about himself in the third person? “But there’s another layer of intrigue. You are on trial. I imagine it’s the most exciting news to reach that sleepy little realm in centuries.”
The idea that I was known on Mount Olympus was too surreal for me to grasp. “So I’m, like, famous there?”
Dad nodded.
“So how will we get to Mount Olympus, anyway?” I asked. I imagined whirling portals to another dimension, or winged horses flying us to a cloud-topped mountain.
Dad snorted like I’d said something silly. “We don’t, my dear. Mount Olympus will come to us. Our technology allows for the trial to happen in both realms at the same time. None of us want to visit Mount Olympus unless it’s strictly necessary, Helen.”
Oh. I felt slightly deflated. “Right. So where do we go?”
“The trial will take place in a court of mortals, somewhere in London. Where exactly will be determined shortly.”
In just a few days, I’d be in a court room facing the Council. It began to feel less like something happening in a crazy fever dream, and more like real life.
I wanted to be as prepared as possible, even if talking about this trial made me feel sick with nerves. “Dad, what else can you tell me about this trial?”
“Forgive me. I forget that you know nothing about the legal system back home,” Dad said. “We will face the twelve Council members. Now, an interesting fact about them is that their gowns signify their rank. The longer they’ve been serving, the darker the gown.”
Here we go with the not-so-interesting facts. I should have asked Athena.
“Stop there, Dad. Can you tell me stuff that’s, you know, relevant?” I asked.
“Right. Of course. The trial will last for two days and we can’t leave the court at all while it lasts. So be prepared for an overnight stay, as well as a dinner with some of our most senior officials.”
“Fine,” I said, nodding. Usually the thought of a dinner with Mount Olympians (who I can only assume are as stuffy as Dad) would have me rolling my eyes. But it didn’t feel important.
“And we gods need to submit a written testimony, which is our statement of defence,” Dad said.
“And what about me? How do I submit my testimony?”
Dad put down his cup of jasmine tea. “It’s a bit trickier for you, Helen. We’ve discussed it as a family, and feel your testimony would have more impact if it was a speech.”
It was so typical of the gods to have a family discussion and decide the best course of action without asking me. Was I a member of this family or not?
I folded my arms. “Care to explain why?”
“The Council may take more pity on you, and the family, if you’re able to present a powerful speech.”
Me? Give a powerful speech? I can’t even read a poem in English without stumbling over a line.
“Dad, I’m not sure I’m the powerful-speech-giving type,” I said.
He sighed. “I’d like to say you have a choice in the matter. But this is the most peril our family has faced in centuries. To be frank, it’s a matter of life or death.”
“Is this your way of trying to take the pressure off?! Believe me. Not helping!”
“Helen, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think you weren’t capable. Can you trust me?”
Dad could be eccentric and strange and up-in-the-clouds, but I did trust him. I nodded.
“Good thing I’ve got you all on my side,” I said, trying hard to be positive. “I could definitely do with some help putting together this speech.”
Dad shook his head. “We can’t help you, Helen. You must prepare everything on your own. We can’t be seen to favour you, or anyone on trial. It could result in a much harsher sentence.”
The whole conversation felt like being in a boxing ring. Blow after blow rained down.