Percy Jackson's Greek Gods by Rick Riordan, John Rocco Read Free Book Online

full stomach, he got to the point where he could chug a full goblet of nectar in three seconds, and Titan goblets are the size of water cooler jugs.
    He trusted Zeus to fill his glass with whatever would go down the smoothest.
    Which was exactly Zeus’s plan.
    One night when Kronos was dining with his favorite lieutenants, Zeus mixed some special brews for the drinking contest. The nymphs back on Mount Ida had taught him a lot about herbs and stuff. He knew which plants could make you drowsy, which ones could make you dizzy, and which could make you feel so terrible, your stomach would want to exit your body.
    For the king’s guests, Zeus mixed some sleepy-time extra-dizzy nighty-night nectar. For Kronos, he mixed a special blend of nectar and mustard. Some versions of the story will say Zeus used wine, but that can’t be right, because wine hadn’t been invented yet. We’ll get to that later.
    Anyway, the stuff in Kronos’s goblet was ü ber-nasty. Zeus set it aside and waited for the right moment.
    Dinner started out as usual, with lots of drinking, eating, and catching up on the Titan news of the day. Zeus kept the nectar flowing. He entertained the guests with his jokes and his singing. Toward the end of the evening, when everybody was content and relaxed and sleepy, Zeus began boasting about the king’s drinking skill.
    “Kronos is the boss at drinking!” he proclaimed. “You should see him. The guy is insane. I mean his record is, what—three seconds?”
    “Urg,” Kronos said. He was full already and had been hoping to avoid a drinking contest.
    “If he wanted to,” Zeus said, “he could drink faster than all of you! I bet he would set a new world record tonight. Wouldn’t you love to see that?”
    Atlas, Hyperion, Koios, and the others cheered and called for a contest.
    Kronos really wasn’t in the mood, but he couldn’t decline. His honor as a super-chugger was at stake. He gestured for Zeus to bring in another round.
    Zeus ran to the kitchen and fetched his special concoctions. He offered the guests their sleepy-time nectar, then served Kronos last, giving the king no time to smell his brew before yelling, “Ready, set, go!”
    The Titans gulped down their tasty beverages. Kronos immediately noticed that his nectar tasted weird, but it was a contest. He couldn’t stop chugging. The whole point was to drain the cup! Maybe his taste buds were just a little off. After all, Zeus had never steered him wrong.
    Kronos drained his nectar in two and a half seconds. He slammed the goblet upside down on the table and shouted: “I win! I—”
    The next sound out of his mouth was like a walrus getting the Heimlich maneuver.
    There’s no pleasant way to say it. Kronos puked. He puked a puke worthy of the king of the universe. It was a kingly puke.
    His stomach tried to propel itself out his throat. His mouth hinged open all by itself—the better to upchuck you with, my dear—and shot out five gods, a very slimy rock, quite a lot of nectar, some biscuits, and a chariot license plate. (No, I don’t know how all that got in there.)
    The five disgorged gods immediately grew to full-size adults right there on the dining table. The Titan guests stared in amazement, their minds working slowly due to the spiked nectar.
    As for Kronos, he was still trying to catapult his guts across the throne room.
    “Get—” He retched. “—them!”
    Atlas was the first to react. He yelled, “Guards!” and tried to stand, but he was so dizzy, he fell right into Hyperion’s lap.
    Zeus wanted to lunge for his father’s scythe. He wanted to slice up the old cannibal on the spot, but the other Titans were starting to recover from their shock. They might be slow and sleepy, but they had weapons. Meanwhile, Zeus’s only weapon was a serving tray. His army consisted of five slimy, unarmed gods who had spent very little time outside a stomach, much less in combat.
    Guards started pouring into the throne room.
    Zeus turned to