Cerberus’s three heads began to howl as his whole body felt the pain and spun in wild, thrashing circles; then he flopped on the ground and covered his injured mouth with his paws, trying to rub away the agony of his missing teeth.
Homer had been standing stock-still, but when he took a step forward, Cerberus leapt to his feet again, his two undamaged heads snapping and snarling. He paced back and forth toward Homer.
“Well,” Alcie said at last, “you three could get by him all right. But copper dents really easily. I threw a cooking pot across a room once when I was little; looked like a piece of flatbread.”
“I have something for this,” Iole said, her brow furrowing. In that tiny, dimly lit room in her brain, a shard of parchment blew up off the floor and danced in front of Iole’s face. Written on it: feed the dog. In her mind, Iole snatched it out of the air and ran to the doorway. But she was surrounded by space. Staring into the void, she realized that what she’d taken for inky blackness was really a dark, dull gray—the color of lead, or a brain. But it didn’t matter. She was buried in the deepest crevice of her mind: there was no way this bit of a memory could get free on its own and work its way to the surface.
“Iole,” Pandy said. “The cake? Did you bake the cake for Cerberus?”
“I did!” Iole cried, breaking out into a smile. “That’s who I made it for!”
She pulled the dried-fruit cake out of her carrying pouch and broke it into three parts. She began walking toward the barking, whimpering dog.
“Let me,” said Homer.
“No,” Iole said, skirting around him. “I baked it; I can give it to him.”
She tossed a morsel of cake onto the ground in front of the injured head. Bending down to lick it, the one head forced the whole creature to lie on the ground.
“Go!” she said, turning to the others and nodding her head toward the gates.
“Pandy?” Alcie asked, her voice shaky.
“She knows what she’s doing. She’s still Iole, Alce—somewhere down deep. Rope!” Pandy called. “Lead Dido behind us.”
As Pandy, Alcie, Homer, and a struggling Dido skirted by, Iole steadily approached the dog, her hands outstretched to the two heads with their full sets of teeth bared, lips twitching and curling.
“Good dog,” she said. “Look what I have for you. So yummy!”
The two heads began to sniff the air, catching the scent of the cake. Each stopped snarling and began to pant with anticipation. Iole was now within striking distance of Cerberus, but instead the two heads gently took the pieces of cake from her hands and started to munch. As Iole sidestepped toward the gate, one head turned to watch her; it would have started to bark again, but couldn’t because of the dried fruit stuck to the roof of its mouth.
Suddenly, from above, a large chain was draped swiftly but gently over the three heads and fastened snuggly around the creature’s neck with a fat, adamant lock. Iole caught the scent of roses and lavender and looked up to see a beautiful young woman dressed in shades of gray with luminescent flecks of pink and fuchsia.
“Hi!” the woman whispered. “You’re Iole, right?”
“Right.”
“Hiiiii! You’re the one I haven’t formally met yet,” the woman said, then she turned back to Cerberus, fastening the end of the chain to a hook on the gate. “Oh, I hate doing that! We usually never have to chain him up. Isn’t that right, Cerby? Such a good doggy!”
All three of Cerberus’s heads were now too busy trying to get the dried fruit off their tongues to pay attention. The woman bent down and patted his head lovingly.
“This will only be for a little while, I promise,” she purred to the creature. Then she stood and, with the biggest smile possible, enveloped Iole in a tremendous hug. “I just feel as if I know you already! When Alcie was here, well, she practically did nothing but talk all about you! How smart you are. How you come up with words that she’s sure don’t even exist, but you make them sound so wonderful!”
Then the beautiful woman bent down and whispered conspiratorially.
“How she wishes she were more like you!”
“Okay,” Iole said, loving the smell of lavender coming off the woman’s hair.
“I know, right! As if she isn’t completely fabulous just as she is. It’s crazy, I know! So … hi … I’m Persephone, but you’re such a biggie-brain, you probably already knew that.”
There was a blank look on Iole’s face that made Persephone stop talking, utterly confused. Persephone giggled after an uncomfortable moment of silence. Then she sighed and looked off after Pandy and the rest, her mind placing names with the faces of the others.
“You are Iole … right?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re the genius,” she said, then paused. “Right?”
“Okay.”
“Hmmm,” Persephone said under her breath. “Not really seeing it. Yes, well, the others are over here. Let’s … um … let’s go to them. Now. Wow.”
With Iole following, Persephone crossed quickly behind the gate to where Pandy, Alcie, Homer, and Dido were patiently waiting. Without any formal show of respect, Alcie ran to Persephone and threw her arms around the goddess.
“Hi, honey,” Persephone said, although her tone betrayed a bit of urgency, as if she wanted to be welcoming but had suddenly realized she was needed elsewhere.
“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” Alcie answered.
“Hey, cutie,” Persephone said, hugging Pandy. “Fancy meeting you here in the Fields of Asphodel. How’s the shoulder?”
“Fine. I have the Eye of Horus around my neck and it’s almost completely …,” Pandy began, then stopped. “How did you know about my shoulder? Were you there when the Apollos healed me in Rome?”
“They healed you?” Persephone snorted. “I so don’t think so. Uncle Apollo is good with hangnails and things like that. But your spirit was teetering on the brink of life and death. You needed me! Me and Proserpine, that is. We just brought you a little hope in the darkness. Just a little healing touch.”
“Hope is still in the box,” Iole said.
“Uh, yes. That’s right. Very GOOD,” Persephone said, her voice getting louder with each word as if she were talking to someone who was deaf. Then she turned back to Pandy. “But there’s a little hope that always comes with springtime, and that’s where I come in—box or not. Is she really the smart one? I mean, I was kinda expecting Aristotle in girl form. Anyway, I must dash off—Alcie, why is your hair crinkly?”
“Because it’s made of copper.”
“We have a little problem,” Pandy said.
“You think you have problems!” Persephone cried. “You have no idea what’s going on around here. Cerberus was deliberately lured away from the gate. There are non-heroes wandering the Elysian Fields. No one is guarding Tartarus. Most of the punished have just been able to walk away from whatever torment they’d been cursed with. I think Charon’s boat is sunk. And it’s all Hera’s fault. She’s here—I think Mom’s with her—and she’s turning the underworld upside down, you’ll pardon the pun. I’m running around like crazy trying to right all the wrongs, but I can only be in so many places at once. Wait! If Charon’s boat is sunk, how did you all get across the Styx?”
“That’s the problem,” Alcie said. “We swam and …”
“Stop! Stop right there! You what? You went in the water?”
“We had to,” Iole said.
“From one side to the other?” Persephone croaked. Then she looked hard at each of them. “Alcie, your hair is copper.”
“I know.”
“I KNOW!” Persephone yelled. “Pandy, your skin is bronze. Homer—what are you? You’re black—no—you’re blue!”
“Iron.”
“But—but—you all feel nice and fleshy and human to hug,” Persephone said, now way beyond confused. “A little cool, maybe.”
“We seem to be fine,” Pandy said. “We think the Styx just brought out our strongest traits and gave us a metal
coating.”
“But Iole’s brain … it’s lead,” Alcie whispered.
“No way!”
“Well, it’s got a lead coating,” she countered. “At least we think so.”
“Iole’s still in there,” Pandy said. “It’s like she’s fighting to remember everything she knows. She baked a cake to distract Cerberus before we crossed the river and she was fighting to remember to give it to him.”
It was then that Persephone did something highly unusual. She stopped talking and focused. She circled and stared at Iole like she was a puzzle, and Persephone knew she alone had the missing piece. Iole just looked bewildered.
“Perseph …,” Pandy began.
“Quiet,” Persephone whispered. “Thinking. Many thoughts. Takes work. Need quiet.”
“Sorr—” Pandy said.
“Okay, I’m done,” Persephone cried, waving her hands wildly as she cut Pandy off again. She looked around as if someone unseen might be watching. “Oh, Buster will probably have my head for this. Yes, I can grow a new one, but so not the point. All right … memory troubles, huh? A coated brain? Well, gods know, I’ve got a thousand things to do, but first we’re gonna get the little lady a drink. Great Zeus, I hope this works. C’mon!”
Chapter Six
Lethe
Persephone began walking down the main road into the underworld with such speed that soon she was almost out of sight, with Alcie hollering for her to please wait. The rest of the group could not match the step of her long goddess legs, and several times she outstripped everyone, including Dido, who’d been unbound as soon as the gates were out of sight. Pandy and Alcie had to keep calling for her to return, until she finally decided to simply float alongside the group.
“Walking slowly bores the undergarments off me.” Persephone yawned. “But you mortals all just take your time.”
“Rude,” said Iole.
“Now, uh … now, Persephone,” Alcie called up to the goddess, hovering a meter off the ground, her brow now furrowed, “you know she didn’t mean that.”
“Trouble is, she did mean it,” Persephone sighed. “And she’s right. Sorry. I’m thinking we have to hurry, though, before she says something very honest to someone who won’t understand her condition. I might suggest picking up the pace. I’ll keep you from getting weary, I promise.”
“Of course, great Persephone,” Pandy said, putting on her sweetest voice, “you could just float us along with you.”
“Sorry, cutie-pie, can’t be so obvious with my assistance.”
Everyone began to jog, Alcie and Iole’s metal hair making a soft scraping sound as it hit their backs with each stride.
Since they had left the gates at least fifteen minutes before, as near as Pandy could calculate, Pandy had glimpsed several shades lurking in the grassy fields, which stretched on either side of the road as far as the eye could see. The farther along the road they got, the more spirits and shades she saw. But nobody was actually doing anything. In fact, every shade was simply standing, not frozen but rather loose, with eyes that occasionally followed the group’s progress but mostly just stared out into the middle distance. She looked to Persephone, who was now miming that she was riding a very large horse, pretending to rein it in from side to side, and making clopping and whinnying sounds by sputtering her lips together.
“Persephone?” Pandy called up. “Where are we again?”
“And where are we going?” Alcie asked.
“Whoa!” Persephone said to her invisible beast, pulling back hard on the nonexistent reins. “Good horsey! Well, I have theee most fantastic but probably fatal idea—for Iole that is. But first we have to cross through the Fields of Asphodel, which is where we are now and ‘where live the shades of lesser heroes and lesser spirits,’ according to my Buster—Hades. Basically, it’s the final destination for average, common folk … but for Zeus’s sake, don’t tell them that! They get snarky!”
“Persephone?” Pandy called again; Persephone was now pretending to be at a dance and twirling around in the air. “You know why I’m here, right?”
“Naturally,” she said, stopping mid-spin. “You put the sixth Evil, Greed, back in the box when you were in Rome. Good going, I might add, and thanks for giving Zeus an excuse for a family reunion. Buster and I never get out of this place when I’m here, and Mother won’t let me out of her sight when I’m on Olympus. So I owe you big time, Pandy-poo. You allowed Buster and me a nice little vacation! Now, if you’re here and you’re not dead—you’re not dead are you?”
“No,” Pandy replied.
“Of course you’re not, silly. But you are here, and that means that the seventh Evil is somewhere in the underworld.”
“She’s so smart,” said Iole.
“I know,” Alcie agreed.
“I KNOW!” Persephone cried.
“And you all know, I’m sure, that Zeus would be ginormously unhappy if any of us helped you find and capture it—which is why I can’t just float you anywhere, Miss Smarty-Toga—still, the way I see it, helping someone—and by someone, I mean Iole—get her thinker back on track is not really helping you find the Evil, am I right? So, no harm, no Olympic Games foul. Besides, the only one who might actually know where Fear is hiding is Buster and, if I were you, I’d head to the palace when we’re done and wait for him. But that’s just me.”
“But he never left the palace when I was here before. At least I think don’t so. If he’s not there …,” Alcie began, realizing that things really were disturbed in the underworld.
“Hera has also freed Briareus, Cottus, and Gyges, the three hecatonchires that have guarded that gates of Tartarus since time began,” Persephone answered. “Thanks a lot, Mother’s best friend.”
“Hecatonchires?” asked Alcie.
“Big word,” Iole said softly.
“Giants with fifty heads and one hundred arms,” Persephone said. “And between you, me, and the oil lamp, I just can’t see why they would want to leave the underworld even if they were free; the pay is good and they have a great health and dental plan. Anyway, Buster was able to catch Cottus and Gyges rather quickly; apparently it was easy: he just followed the path of half-mashed, moaning, screaming mortals. But he’s only now just managed to get ahold of the third, Briareus, and word is he’s on his way back home. How’s everybody feeling?”
“Not winded at all,” said Pandy.
“I’m fine,” Homer answered.
“Feelin’ good, feelin’ strong,” Alcie sang out.
“I like running,” Iole finished.
All at once, Pandy felt herself being watched. She spun her head right and left, looking for whoever was spying on her, on them all. Nothing. The mass of vapid shades standing in the fields was thinning and still they didn’t seem at all interested. She ran backward for a bit, thinking that she’d passed someone or something whose eyes were now locked onto her. She stared upward into the vault of the “heavens,” which were brightly lit and yet the light was a dull, matte yellow and obviously artificial. There was nothing from horizon to horizon.
And then she saw it.
A small bird circling so high above that for a moment Pandy thought she’d gotten something her eye. She blinked, but the bird was still there, circling and swooping slightly lower, allowing Pandy to take note of its body. The creature had the oddest shape, Pandy thought, and certainly for a flyer: the wings were almost invisible but the tail was incredibly long. Then, with a gasp that made her miss a step and nearly tumble into the short grasses, she realized it was a peacock. A peacock, she knew, was normally a flightless bird—unless it was …
Hera.
“Just try anything,” Pandy whispered, emboldened slightly by the presence of another immortal. “Just you try it.”
But her legs had grown weak, not from fatigue but from fear.
“Persephone,” she called. “I have to slow down just for a bit.”
“No, you don’t,” the goddess replied. “Don’t you know that a moving t
arget is harder to hit? Besides, that’s not Hera.”
“Hera? Where?” Alcie squeaked.
Persephone delicately pointed upward to the peacock now streaking away from them in the direction they were trudging.
“How do you know?” asked Pandy, her voice shaky.
“Trust me on this one, youth and maidens. Oh, certainly, that was a bird she enchanted to keep her apprised of your whereabouts, but you won’t have any trouble recognizing Hera when you do finally see her.”
“Why not?” Pandy asked.
“Well, after the feast in Rome, when Zeus found out about all her plans and schemes and finally caught up with her, he gave her backside such a thunder-cracking walloping …”
“We saw it!” Alcie chimed in with such glee that Persephone was thrown for a moment.
“We happened to be passing by the insula at the exact moment both she and Juno were being punished,” Pandy explained.
“We saw her butt!” Iole guffawed.
Persephone just gaped at Iole for an instant.
“Uh-huh. Okay then, well you can imagine the damage a spanking from the Sky-Lord might do. So when you see Hera, you’ll know her by the bandage across her butt!”
Moments after Hera’s winged spy had disappeared beyond the horizon, the light in the sky—wherever it was coming from—dropped sharply and the terrain changed from endless stretches of grassy meadows to shorter grasses with patches of pebble-strewn dirt in places.
“There it is,” Persephone said, interrupting her own monologue in which she was relating how she was going to surprise Hades on their next anniversary with a romantic vacation to a land in the far-off Orient where they “stuff little shrimps in dough balls and fry them very fast in hot oil. Yum yum!”
Pandora Gets Frightened Page 5
