1 Cyclops Skips School

 

  Hey, you! Yes, you, blurry-looking human reading this book! Did you follow me to this volcano? You’d better not tell anyone you saw me here. Or I might EAT you! I’m not joking. (Truthfully, though, I’d rather eat pizza than a human.)

  So you’ve probably noticed I’m a giant girl. Name’s Cyclops. I go to the School for Magical Monsters. Half the students there are Creatures. The other half are yucky Beasts. I’m a Creature.

  I’m bigger and stronger than most of the guys. I can do lots of things better than them. Except for things that need good eyesight. Mine’s not great, but that’s a secret. Even my brothers don’t know about it. Because I don’t want anyone to think I’m weak!

  This morning I faked being sick, though. Cough-cough. Ha! When everyone left for classes, I sneaked out and came here.

  CLANG! CLANG! That’s the sound of hammers striking metal. My older brothers are making armor. So cool. I love that sound. It’s like music to my ears! I’d rather make armor than go to school any day! I follow the sound toward their workshop deep within the volcano.

  It’s dark in here. I wish my eye could see better. Yes, eye. I just have one. It’s big, round, and smack-dab in the middle of my forehead. Cool, right?

  I walk on till I see a bright light ahead. Then what does my one big eye spy? My blurry brothers. All three of ’em!

  When I enter their workshop, a blast of heat hits my face. My brother Arges is heating a long metal rod over a huge fire. Smoke rises and disappears through a vent in the cave ceiling.

   

  CLANG! CLANG! My other two brothers, Brontes and Steropes, are hammering armor and weapons. Spears, swords, helmets, and shields line the walls. The bronze and iron ones will go to human soldiers. But the shiny gold and silver ones are for Greek goddesses and gods.

  Brontes—my oldest brother—sees me first. He’s the biggest of the three. And, except for a bare spot in the middle that’s as big and round as my eye, his chest is also the hairiest! He stops hammering. “Whatcha doing here, Clopsy?” he yells.

   

  Ugh. I hate that babyish nickname!

  Steropes, my middle brother, stops hammering too. “Yeah, why aren’t you in school?” he shouts. My brothers all speak real loud. Because their hearing’s not so good after years of banging metal. But their single eyes see way better than mine.

   

  “Gosh, I’m happy to see you, too,” I shout back, feeling let down. I wish they were excited to see me. It’s been weeks since I visited. And my brothers are my whole family. Our parents were killed in a battle when I was a baby!

  Arges, my youngest (and favorite) brother, pulls his rod from the fire. Its tip glows. He hands it to Brontes to hammer into a spear. CLANG! Then he smiles at me and bellows, “Do you bring good news? Did you get your magic power?”

  “No,” I say, sorry to disappoint him. There are six Creatures and six Beasts at my school. So far only two, Chimera and Pegasus, have magic powers. Chimera is a Beast with three heads—lion, goat, and dragon ones. All three of her heads got the power to breathe fire. And Pegasus? He’s a horse Creature. That guy got wings and can fly now!

  Everyone who goes to the School for Magical Monsters will get a magic power sooner or later. But for me it’ll be never. Because I’m not staying. Why should I? I don’t need a power to make armor and weapons. I just need to be big and strong. Which I already am!

  I stomp my foot. “I’m sick of school. I want to work here with you!”

  Brontes and Steropes burst out laughing, the big meanies. “No way, Clopsy,” says Brontes. “You’re too young, for one thing.”

  “Yeah,” says Steropes, waving me away. “Shoo! Go back to school!”

  Even Arges shrugs. “Sorry, Sis. Brontes is right.”

  “Please,” I beg. “I’ll learn more here than at school. I want to do what you do!”

  “Ha!” snorts Brontes. “It takes strength and skill to do this work.”

  “Which you’ll never have, little girl,” Steropes adds meanly.

  “I’m plenty strong,” I huff. “And I already know a lot.” My whole life I’ve watched my brothers work. I copied what they did with scraps of metal and toy tools that Arges made for me.

  “Sorry, Sis,” Arges says again. He puts his arm around my shoulders. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “I know the way,” I grump. But I let him steer me back through the cave. Tears spring into my eye, making things even blurrier than usual. Without Arges guiding me, I’d probably trip and fall on my face!

   

  “Don’t feel bad,” Arges says when we’re outside. “You’re lucky to be in school. Brontes, Steropes, and I never got to go.” He grins. “That’s why we’re all such knuckleheads.”

  I don’t grin back. He doesn’t know it, but my grades at school aren’t great. If my brothers are knuckleheads, so am I!