Sons of Zeus (The Warrior Trilogy #1)

“I know who did it,” he said. “I know who the clue reveals — who was behind the murders.”


“That was fast,” Riq said.

Sera just raised her eyebrows, waiting for the answer.

Dak felt sick even saying it. “His mom did it. Alexander the Third’s mom arranged to have them killed.”





SERA STARED at her best friend, having a hard time believing what he’d just said. A soft breeze had picked up in the forest, bringing with it the smells of olives and pine. The day had gotten brighter, too, starting to get a little warm.

“What . . . where . . . how did you come up with that?” she asked Dak. “Plus, what kind of mother arranges for her son to be killed?”

The look on his face reminded her of a dam about to burst, trying to hold back too much. “Not many people know about Alexander’s mom. Her name was Olympias, and after a few good years with King Philip, they . . . went their separate ways. Which is a nice way of saying that he fell in love with Cleopatra and gave Olympias the boot. He exiled her. She and the kid were sent off to the countryside.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Riq said, rubbing his temples. “I might not be the historical genius you are — something you like to remind us about fifty times a day — but I know very well that Philip didn’t marry the most famous woman in Egyptian history.”

Dak sighed. “Not that Cleopatra. She won’t be born for another few centuries. This is a Greek woman. Cleopatra Eurydice.”

Riq nodded. “Oh. Yeah. Well, see? Maybe I’m good at history after all!”

“Congrats,” Dak muttered, then turned his attention back to Sera as if she were the only one intelligent enough to continue the conversation. “Anyway, so her name is Olympias. What does that name make you think of?”

“Greek gods and such,” Sera answered.

“Exactly. And she only had one son. And he’s the son of a king. Slightly important to her. So guess what she always called him? Her . . . nickname for him, I guess.”

Sera pictured the Art of Memory clue left by Aristotle, and then it clicked. She knew what Herakles and Perseus had in common — a father.

“You can’t be serious.”

Dak smiled. “Oh, I can be serious. She called the kid Son of Zeus.”

“Wait,” Riq put in. “You mean she called him Zeus?”

“No, she called him Son of Zeus. As in ‘Hey, Son of Zeus, time to get your jammies on!’ Or ‘Hey, Son of Zeus, it’s your turn to do the dishes!’ ‘Hey, Son of Zeus, could ya pipe down up there, I’m trying to take a nap!’ Son of Zeus.”

Riq shook his head. “Talk about spoiling your kid. I bet he had a ton of friends at the schoolyard when his mom came by to pick up the Son of Zeus every day.”

Sera had been leaning against a tree, but she straightened and held her hands up in a gesture that said she wasn’t quite connecting the dots. “The fact she treated him like some mythological hero only makes it more strange that she’d arrange to have him murdered. Right? Are we sure about this?”

“I don’t know,” Riq said. “Maybe it has something to do with all that Greek mythology. Those gods were all family, and they were constantly trying to kill one another.”

“We just need to find Aristotle,” Dak said, pointing off in a direction as if he knew exactly where they should go. “He’ll be at the League of Corinth, so I’m sure we’ll be able to find him with a little snooping around. I got a plaster bust of him for my kindergarten graduation, so I should be able to recognize his face when I see him.”

Sera tried to hold in the laugh, but it came out anyway, sounding like a burp mixed with a cough.

“What?” Dak said, his expression showing genuine offense. “It looked great next to the statue of Michelangelo’s David that I got for my preschool graduation. Duh.”

And with that, Sera started walking in the direction her friend had indicated a few seconds earlier. She didn’t care where it led.



Dak breathed in the salty air, enjoying the warm breeze as they exited the forest and walked out onto a bluff that overlooked the city of Corinth. He felt a little burst of pride at seeing the grand buildings of classic Greek design, knowing that it was in this very place that one of the best examples of early democratic government had existed. The famous League of Corinth boasted representatives from every city-state in the Macedonian Empire except Sparta, which had its own agenda.

Aristotle had been a key figure in organizing the League, which for many years ceased the infighting of the Greek states and helped lay the foundation for a force strong enough to counter the Persian Empire. That was, until their two best hopes at leading were murdered by a man named Pausanius.