"I would follow you, daughter of Prometheus. I would follow you down to the depths of your dreams to tell you what I have to say. I would hunt you into the flames of Tartarus and bring you back for the punishment you deserve. You have doomed mankind, your kind, to age upon age of sorrow. And why did you do this? So you would be popular with fools? So you would be accepted among those not fit to wash your feet? So you could feel special, not knowing that feeling comes from doing what is right for all, not merely what is right for you. And you dare to hope you can escape me in death? After what you have done, your negligence, your recklessness, your selfishness, your lack of caring for your fellow man, and your obvious contempt for my will and my wisdom and that of all the gods; DO YOU THINK DEATH WOULD HINDER ME AT ALL?"
Prometheus put an arm around Pandy.
"Sky-Lord, you frighten my daughter."
"Silence, Titan!" Zeus trained his eyes on Prometheus. "Or your tongue will curl in your mouth and remain that way! She should be frightened. Have you never told her our happy little tale, Prometheus? Does she not know what I am capable of?"
Zeus glared at Sabina. "And you," he said. "Still happy with your decision to leave Olympus? Perhaps you should have stayed here, toiling away at my drainage counters, hmm?"
Sabina clutched the sleeping Xander tightly in her arms and, standing as straight as she could, met the eyes of the Cloud-Gatherer with a steady if slightly nearsighted gaze.
"I foresaw you getting too big for your toga . . . and look at you!" she said clearly.
Zeus chuckled. Then he looked back at Pandora.
"If it were up to me—and it is—I would have the House of Prometheus boiling in oil for the first ten thousand years of eternity, then I would have you all cleaning the sewage pits in the underworld for a bit, then some dish washing in the dining hall in the Elysian Fields, then you'd spend some time in the fire pits of Tartarus . . . and then things would really get bad."
Pandy clung to her father's waist and tried to hide her face in his toga.
"Look at me, little one!" roared Zeus. "It just so happens that my extremely generous nature has been prevailed upon. The Queen of Heaven has taken pity on you, child, even though, with some of the evils you released into the universe, her temples have been most desecrated and her name most taken in vain. You will offer her your gratitude now."
Pandy looked at the great Hera with surprise. From what she'd been told of Hera's disposition ever since she could listen to the storytellers, Hera had taken pity on no one . . . ever.
"Thank you, mighty Hera." Pandy's voice was lost in the echo of the hall. Prometheus gave her shoulders a tiny squeeze.
"Louder! My wife did not hear you!" said Zeus.
"Thank you, mighty and wonderful goddess!" she said, a little too loudly this time. Pandy thought she saw Hermes laugh slightly to himself.
Hera smiled graciously in Pandy's direction and nodded her perfectly coiffed head. But Hera did not really look at her and Pandy noticed that, ever so slightly, the other gods at the table shifted their eyes to one another briefly.
"I have an offer for you, Pandora," said Zeus. "You and your family will not be tortured through infinite eternity if, and only if, you accept it."
Pandy had absolutely no idea what was coming but she was sure it wasn't going to be something like sleeping on the floor for a moon or writing a letter to her principal.
"Each of the plagues you foolishly released has found a home somewhere on earth. There are seven great evils . . . and assorted lesser ones. You alone of your family will find each of them at the purest source and return them to the box. Where is the box, Hermes?"
"My lord, inside the bronze case."
"Ah yes, the case," said Zeus, looking at Prometheus. "Well, a lot of good that did."
His eyes shifted back to Pandy.
"Let no one in your family come to your aid. You have one half-cycle of the seasons, six phases of the moon, in which to accomplish this, and if you succeed, which is most highly doubtful, you and your family will be allowed your natural lives. If you do not accept or if you fail, which, considering the nature of your crime, I must say I'm rather looking forward to, well. . . I've already mentioned a few of the delights I have in store for you. I see no need to ruin all the surprises. Apollo will fly his sun chariot in the sky once and that is all the time you will have to prepare for your departure. What is your answer?"
Pandy was so shocked by what she'd just heard that, at first, she made no sound.
"I. . . I. . . have to find them?" she stammered.
"What is your answer?" Zeus boomed.
"My lord," Prometheus said, trying to strike a balance between showing the proper respect, maintaining his dignity, and defending his daughter, "the box was in my keeping. The offense is mine. She is only a silly, willful girl. She is my flesh and therefore I love her, but she is difficult and childish. Let this undertaking fall to me."
Pandy looked up at her father and felt like a knife had sliced into her stomach. Zeus had called her many things: reckless, selfish, and contemptuous. But nothing he'd said had hit her the way the words silly difficult, and childish had coming out of her father's mouth. She had most assuredly disappointed him and quite probably condemned him. And the horrible reality struck her like another physical blow: it was all true. All because of her curiosity. This was, without question, the worst moment of her life. Then, it was as if an invisible rope latched on to the words in her head and dragged them, kicking and screaming, out of her mouth.
"I'll do it," she said, very quietly.
"What was that, Pandora?" Hera said quickly.
Pandora tried to stand a little straighten She had no idea what she was saying yes to, she only knew the fault was all hers and she was going to try to make it right.
"I said I'll do it. . . great Hera. I'll get them back. All of them. At least I'll try."
CHAPTER TEN
Many Question
Pandy knew that her life, if she had one, was never going to be the same.
She was aware that her father's legs were trembling slightly. She squeezed his hand.
"Very good. It will be interesting to watch your progress, or not," said Zeus. "And now, fare—"
"Father," Hermes spoke up.
"—well. What? What do you require?"
Hermes leaned low toward Zeus and turned his face away from the far end of the table. Pandy heard soft mumbling between the two gods, then Zeus suddenly banged his right hand on the arm of his golden throne and Pandy watched his silver eyebrows rise into his hair.
"What? You mean it's still in the box?" he growled. "Well, she's an inept little thing, isn't she?"
Zeus waved Hermes away.
"I have just been informed, Pandora," he said, "that Hope did not escape with the great sorrows, but is still imprisoned . . ."
He paused, gazing on some point deep in the recesses of the great hall, silent for a long time. Pandy thought his shoulders sagged just a little before he looked at her again.
"And that is where it shall stay You have accepted this task and you shall succeed or fail while watching mankind labor under the misery you created. Witness the full measure of the world's despair, beset by evil and bereft of Hope. May you learn from this punishment. And now . . ."
"Father!" Hermes said quickly.
". . . farewe— What!"
"Should we not give her the map?"
"Ah, yes . . . I do need to give you a fighting chance, I suppose," said Zeus. "For just such a contingency that an accident should occur—for instance, a ridiculous little girl would somehow open the box—a map was created to locate each sorrow and return it back to the box. Use it properly, and it will direct you to the pure source of each great plague. Hera, dearest, the map."
Hera rose and walked portentously toward Pandy, raising her right hand above her head, twirling it gracefully two times. A thin, yellowed sheepskin bag appeared out of the air. The pouch was tied with a golden string and sealed with a sma
ll drop of blue wax, stamped with the figure of Hera's peacock.
"There you are, my child. This will tell you all you need to know to succeed." She lowered her head slightly and whispered to Pandy, "Which, if I may say I have every confidence that you will do!"
Pandy felt a twinge of distrust shoot through her like the pains in her legs when she was much smaller and her bones were growing faster that her muscles. Something was very wrong, but she wasn't sure just what exactly.
She did have dozens of questions, however. What did Zeus mean, use the map properly? How did she capture the plagues? What did they look like? How would she get from one place to another? She looked around the table. The other gods were looking at her, some with curiosity, some with pity. But Athena and Artemis actually smiled at her and suddenly she felt better than she had in days.
"And now, farewell!" said Zeus. "Hermes, away!"
"Zeus," said Prometheus, holding out the jar containing Sybilline, "I beg of you to restore my wife! Your mighty thunderbolt took her and I ask that you reverse—"
"Your wife? My thunderbolt?" sputtered Zeus, quickly looking at Hera. The other gods hung their heads trying to hide the faintest hints of smiles. Hera cocked a single eyebrow at her husband.
"I have no idea. I don't recall this . . . incident. . . that you speak of. You are mad in your grief to ask such things of me." Zeus paused. "But I am nothing if not charitable. Leave the urn with me and I shall think upon your request. Now, for the last time, go! Your daughter's time to prepare is dwindling fast."
Her father gently placed the urn on the great round table.
As unseen hands began pushing at Pandy again, driving her back toward the fountains, Pandora ran to catch up with her father.
"Dad! Hey, Dad . . . is that you? Dad?" She pointed up into the marble face. "Dad!"
"Not now, Pandora," he said sharply.
She went silent and fell back, only to be almost lifted off her feet by an invisible wall of poking, prodding fingers. They were guided to the left at the far end of the long hallway onto a narrow, open terrace with no railing high above the mist-shrouded peaks of Mount Olympus. Hermes was waiting for them.
"Right, then. Wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Hermes, please," said Prometheus.
"Oh, come on! You all get to live, for the time being. You got a little trip to the home of the gods and you know most people will never check that off their to-do lists. She"—he nodded to Pandy—"gets to go scurrying off on an adventure. Maybe you don't get your wife back, but maybe you do, who knows? Hey . . . good times!"
Pandy felt something soft and stringy around her feet and ankles. She looked down to see the winged pink leather sandals lacing their way up her calves.
"Pandora," said her father, "give me the map for safekeeping on the way down."
"Okay, Dad," she said, handing him the faded sheepskin bag.
They were joined on the terrace suddenly by a tall, hooded figure.
"Ah, Morpheus! Thanks for coming. Prometheus, you remember Morpheus, right? God of Dreams? Listen," Hermes whispered, but Pandy still heard it; in fact, Pandy heard everything these gods whispered. "It's just for the kids and the old woman . . . I know you can handle the ride down, but I'm iffy about them. Go ahead, Morpheus . . ."
The dark figure lifted back the hood of his cloak. Pandy saw a beautiful man with black skin, shiny black hair, and black eyes. She felt the wings of her sandals pulling her close to the edge of the terrace. Looking down for a moment, she saw only the crags of the mountain, like horrible teeth, and an endless white sky. Then Morpheus cupped a sleek black hand under her chin and turned her face toward his. He looked into her eyes and smiled the most exquisite smile she could have imagined. Instantly, sleepiness was tugging all other thoughts from her mind as the world began to fade from view. She was falling into a deep slumber and falling over the edge of the terrace at the same moment. But this time, before she went out completely, she felt Hermes flying close by and she knew she was completely safe. Then she heard him softly in her ear, "Sweet dreams."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Good-Bye
Pandy awoke still high above the earth, but for some reason she remained unafraid. Sabina, still asleep, tottered precariously in the air, her sandals' lead wings beating frantically to keep the old woman upright. Her father, wide-awake, was flying close by with Xander in his arms, chatting with Hermes. The sun was just coming up over the hills of Athens, which she thought very strange since it had been bright daylight when they fell off the terrace. It must take hours to get up and down that mountain, she thought. Then she realized that she wasn't cold in the least, nor was there any wind, even though they were flying through the air at a tremendous speed.
Below her, she started to make out the larger buildings in the city: the Acropolis, the Parthenon, and the huge marketplace. There was the Athena Maiden Middle School. And she saw the extent of the destruction: smoldering fires, giant rocks left in the wake of flooded rivers, trash in the streets, and cooling rivulets of lava. She started to tear up again, knowing that she was the cause. They flew low over her neighborhood, finally dropping like a stone over her home. She had several moments of extreme terror when she saw the roof of her house coming up at her fast and she started to scream, thinking she was going to be smashed like wheat berries on a grinding stone.
"Close your eyes, Pandora," came her father's voice.
She didn't have a chance to look over at him before she started descending through the roof. This time, it was simply as if she were falling into an image of her house made entirely of colored air. She closed her eyes quickly and the next moment she was coming down slowly and gently onto the floor of the family living space, standing perfectly straight and alert. Her father and Xander landed next, and then Sabina, still asleep, toppled directly onto one of the giant floor pillows and curled up like a puppy.
Landing across the room, Hermes snapped his fingers and the sandal rack appeared as before.
"Thank you very much and I hope you enjoyed your flight! Now if you'll just return your footwear to me."
Prometheus was untying Xander's fur sandals when suddenly the little boy let out a terrible wail.
"Prometheus, my friend, get your children something to eat. It's been almost three weeks, for Olympus' sake! Here, let me . . . " Hermes waved his Caduceus and everyone's sandals began to unlace by themselves and fly to the shoe rack. Except for Pandy's, and she didn't notice because she was trying to comprehend what Hermes had just said.
They had been gone for almost three weeks?
She looked around. The family living space was just as it had always been, but then she looked closer at the food cupboards. Food was scattered all over the drainage counter and on the floor; flies hovered in the air above, dive-bombing choice morsels. Jars were spilled and their contents had dripped or fallen or coagulated everywhere. Flatbread crumbs, olive oil, and dried fruit had been tracked from tiles around the drainage counter into the living space. It wasn't as if any of the food had actually been stolen, though; more like it had been eaten through.
Dido!
He'd been without food in his bowl for almost three weeks, if Hermes was to be believed, and even if it weren't true, Dido was probably terribly worried. She'd tell him everything through her diary later.
She started to run upstairs to find him, but Hermes, with the tip of his finger, held her in place. As her father rummaged through the food cupboards, Hermes knelt before her.
"Your sandals I will remove myself," he said, looking her square in the eye.
"My dog . . . ," she gulped.
"No, you don't have to find your dog right now, Pandora. Right now, you have to listen to me."
Pandy calmed down almost involuntarily.
"You know, Pandora, some of us on Olympus were not born old and crotchety," he said, looking at her feet and almost smiling, but not quite. "Let's see. Apollo . . . and Dionysus, certainly . . . and Artemis . . . Aphrodite's seen a few things, I th
ink . . . well, some of us do remember what it was like to be young. And foolish. Okay, let's strike that and just say stupid. A little petty thievery, a few unrequited loves, people mistakenly transformed into animals or trees or hideous monsters. Things we're not proud of, all right? Nothing like what you did, believe you me. But there are a few of us who have a little more understanding of why you did what you did. There are those who will be watching you, Pandora. A gust of wind when you least expect it. A drop of rain from a sunny sky. Maybe a pebble hits you square in the forehead to get your attention. We'll be around. I'm only saying . . . don't ask me for details."
He finished untying her sandals, stood up, and looked again down into her face.
"Boy are you gonna look like your mother! Am I right, Prometheus?"
"Huh? What?" came the answer from the food cupboards. "I'm trying to find something to eat that isn't moving on its own, thank you."
"Oh, just let me do it," said Hermes.
At once the wooden eating table was groaning under the weight of more food than Pandy had ever seen in her life, including feast days.
"Hermes . . . ," said Prometheus.
"Too much?"
"A bit."
"Fine. Ingrate," Hermes said, smiling.
Instantly, much of the food disappeared, but enough was left so no one would go hungry for days. Prometheus and Hermes looked at each other for a moment, then the god and the Titan each gave the other a long hug.
"Thank you, my friend," said Prometheus.
"My pleasure. And I'll think about that thing we talked about on the way down. I'm gone!"
Hermes, with a wink at Pandy, snapped his fingers and he and the magic shoe rack disappeared with a loud crack.
Pandora Gets Jealous Page 7
