by James Welsh
Part of Hermes thought that Athena was crazy. The other part of Hermes thought the same, but it hoped that Athena was somehow right. Only Athena missed Zeus as much as he did. Hephaestus could still remember the time, many years before, when Hermes found Apollo’s herd of cattle in a meadow. Apollo was nowhere to be found, and Hermes was always jealous of the perfect cattle that Apollo kept. Such cattle could be sold to the mortals, the price anything in the world. And that was what Hermes did: he led the herd down the road and began selling them to anyone with money. When Apollo came back to the herd to find it gone, he was in a fury. Although he was able to go around the region and steal back his cattle, he still wanted revenge. It was Zeus who settled the dispute. He knew how much Apollo loved music, and so he gave Hermes a lyre and told him to play every song he knew. When Apollo heard the music, he fell into a sleeplike trance. When the music ended, Apollo woke up, but he had forgotten why he was angry. Ever since that moment, Hermes and Apollo truly became brothers, and Hermes and Zeus truly became son and father.
And so Hermes took off his winged sandals, saying as he did so, “Take these then.”
Athena took off her own sandals and, as she laced up the winged sandals, asked, “How do I fly with them?”
“It’s easy – just think of where you want to go, and you’ll go there.”
“That simple?”
“Luckily for you, yes.”
As Athena finished lacing up the sandals, Hermes said wistfully, “You said that you and Zeus could never be separated, since both of you share the same mind.”
“Yes,” Athena said distractedly. Her nervous fingers fumbled with the sandal laces.
“Did you know that I was born in Arcadia?” Hermes said abruptly. “Near where Zeus was killed?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
Hermes nodded and said sadly, “Arcadia is a beautiful place in this world to come and go.”
“It is,” Athena said, looking up and realizing that she had never seen Hermes that serious before.
“Please bring him back, however you can. He’s as much my father as he is yours.”
“Don’t worry, I will.”
“Good. Thank you.”
The sandals laced, Athena took a deep breath and thought of floating. At first, she thought that nothing had happened. Then she looked down, and she realized that she was hovering several feet off the ground. Hermes was looking up at her, pleasantly surprised that Athena had picked up flying that quickly.
Athena turned in the air, a bit awkwardly, and looked towards the volcano, where she knew that Hephaestus was hiding. Calling back to Hermes, Athena said, “I’ll be back with these sandals shortly, unless, you know, something happens.”
“Of course. Take your time.”
Athena asked, “Will you be fine here until I get back?”
Athena realized that she was asking a lot of Hermes. Those sandals meant everything to him – she wondered when was the last time Hermes went barefoot, if there was a last time.
But Hermes just smiled and said, “Don’t worry about me. I have my staff to protect me.”
Hermes pointed to the staff propped against a nearby boulder. Athena hadn’t noticed it before – it was Hermes’ magical staff. It looked like an ordinary walking cane, except that there was a solid gold ball at the top of the stick. There were two cobras coiled around the ball, hissing softly as they writhed against the warmed rock. Hermes never told anyone where he had found the golden ball, but all of the immortals knew what it could do. All Hermes had to do was shove the stick in someone’s face, and they immediately became peaceful, some even falling asleep. That was how the cobras came to be wrapped around the staff in the first place – Hermes had seen the snakes fighting one day and he had put the staff between them to stop their fight. The snakes immediately simmered down because of the staff’s power. But when Hermes moved the staff away, the snakes latched on, not wanting to lose their narcotic. Ever since then, the snakes held on, even when Hermes was flying thousands of feet up in the air. There was something more to that gold than met the eye, but Hermes enjoyed keeping everyone in the dark about it.
Athena started to float towards the volcano when Hermes called out once more. “Athena!”
“Yes?”
“Good luck,” Hermes said sincerely.
When most people wished others good luck, it was usually as good manners. There was no way for mortals to truly grant another person luck – they simply did not have that power. But when Hermes said it, he meant it. He was the patron god of good travel, after all – if he wanted someone to get lost on their journey, he could easily do that.
So when Hermes wished Athena good luck, the goddess smiled her thanks and continued flying towards the volcanic island. Hermes watched her slowly disappear against the horizon, then he heaved a sigh and leaned back in the rough soil. He closed his eyes and let the heavy sun above sing him to sleep.
Book 13
