Pandora Gets Angry

by Carolyn Hennesy

  Pandy, Alcie, and Iole looked at one another.

  “We walked in,” Pandy said with a shrug.

  “That is impossible. Giondar laughed when he told me that he’d enchanted the house and grounds with secret spells. That he’d imprisoned us all. That no one could get out and no one could get in past the gate or over the walls. No one, that is, but the final member of the family or someone with powerful magic. Then he chanted over me and did this.”

  There was silence in the small space.

  “Bring the lamp closer,” Zoe said.

  Pandy picked the small lamp up off the floor and walked slowly to where Zobeide lay. But it took several moments of staring at the woman to actually see what had happened to her. Her skin had been wrinkled, but not merely so: it was now so thin, her bones were distinct. Then Pandy realized there was almost no flesh under the darkened, dead skin. More than that still, there was no fluid in her body whatsoever. She was completely dehydrated. She was being “dried.”

  “Zoe was one of the last to be attacked,” Mahfouza said after a moment, her voice the only thing that broke Pandy’s stare. “And then I came home yesterday. Now all of my parents’ children have been deformed in some way.”

  “But why?” Pandy asked. “And what about your mother and father?”

  Mahfouza looked to her sister.

  “Zoe …”

  Everyone looked again at the shriveled mass staring from the pile of rugs.

  “… tell them.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Tale of Zobeide

  “Many years ago,” Zoe began, “my mother and father received an enslaved peri named Deryabar in a cut-glass wine bottle as a wedding gift. Dery, as we called her, was extremely beautiful, very caring, and became something of a second mother to everyone. We children loved her greatly, especially our littlest sister, Zinebi. But we were not the only ones: a powerful genie named Giondar also loved her and she him. In doing so, they both had committed one of the greatest sins of their kind. For a genie to love a mortal is almost unheard of; but for a genie to love a peri is unthinkable. Their offspring could be so powerful that no one knows what destruction could follow. But Giondar and Dery had fallen in love many, many years before. As punishment, Giondar’s master, his roc, imprisoned him in a small lamp in the Garden of the Jinn. Dery was confined to her bottle. Dery was released often to serve our family; we were good to her, she lived happily (so she said) and never tried to free herself. But Giondar had been all but forgotten by his roc. And then, he learned how to escape his lamp. He had been visiting Dery, unknown to us, for years, but always at night when the family was asleep. To be honest, even if we had known, we wouldn’t have cared; we loved Dery that much.

  “Then, one morning many weeks ago, Zinebi woke in a strange mood. She was the baby of the family; we pampered her and she had become a little spoiled, but this morning, her temper was greater than usual. She was spiteful and petulant. One of our serving women asked what Zinebi wanted to eat and our sister threw several carving knives at her, driving the woman from the room. I heard the commotion and, along with our sister Amina, arrived just in time to see Zinebi smash Dery’s wine bottle on the floor. Instantly, Deryabar appeared in a panicked state. She was confused and, although not frightened for herself, alarmed at Zinebi’s condition.

  “As children we would always ask our parents’ permission to open the bottle; the rule was that whoever let Dery out would be the one whose wish or task she would complete. Since Zinebi had released Dery, even by smashing her bottle, Dery had to listen to Zinebi. Dery asked our sister what she wanted and without hesitation, Zinebi said that she wanted a meal made of eggs. Dery began an incantation to create my sister’s request, but Zinebi stopped her cold. From behind her back, Zinebi produced a small bowl containing several eggs—one of which contained Dery’s roc. Dery recognized her master’s egg at once. She wailed and flew about the room, howling that she could not grant such an evil request. But Zinebi insisted. Amina and I pleaded with our sister, but Zinebi would not be moved. Then she held the bowl over her head and threatened to smash all the eggs on the floor. Dery cried out for her to stop! Dery knew that her master would never permit such an action and would kill Zinebi before its egg ever hit the ground. Zinebi again demanded her dish of eggs and Dery agreed, knowing what her fate would be. One by one, Dery incanted over the eggs, turning each one into a bright yellow scramble in the bowl. The roc egg was last and Dery looked at Zinebi, tears streaming down her face. We, Amina and I, pleaded with Zinebi again. She was like ice. Dery began her incantation, but had not spoken two words before a screech was heard from inside the egg and Dery was turned into a solid block of marble, which then exploded into dust before our eyes. She had been utterly destroyed by the commands of the person who supposedly loved her most, and Zinebi picked up the steaming bowl of eggs and calmly walked from the room.”

  “Olive pits,” Alcie said. “What a brat!”

  “She was infected, Zoe,” Pandy said. “I’ll wager my mother’s silver girdle that Zinebi was acting that way because of the lesser evils of spite … and, what was the word you used? P—something?”

  “Petulance?” Zoe replied.

  “Yeah, petulance, and it sounds like there’s something else in there as well. Iole, what do you think?”

  “If I were to guess, I would state that your sister was plagued by a severe case of entitlement. She felt she deserved special treatment just for being … her.”

  “Yes, yes. You have said it!” Zoe said.

  “Zoe, your voice,” Mahfouza cautioned.

  “And I’ll also bet that the morning all of this happened is the morning I took the box to school,” Pandy said.

  “Yes,” Zoe said, then her voice took on a somber tone. “Mahfouza has been telling me all about you. So, we have you to thank for all of this.”

  “You’ll never know how sorry I am,” Pandy said, and she was right. They never would. It was that big.

  “Zoe, continue,” Mahfouza said.

  After a moment during which Zoe just stared at Pandy, she went on.

  “Our mother and father rushed in. They saw the pile of marble dust on the floor. Amina and I told them what had happened, and they began weeping and tearing at their hair. Our brother Noureddin rushed in and discovered Zinebi’s wickedness just as Zinebi reappeared with her empty bowl and sweetly announced that her eggs were so good, she’d like more. Noureddin picked up a knife and charged after Zinebi until our mother stopped him. There was much screaming and yelling; no one knew what to do. Just as the shouting reached its peak, the house shook violently three times. Then we all heard a tremendous crash and a wail such as none other coming from the largest room, the one directly across from this room. Standing in the middle of that room, surrounded by rubble that used to be the ceiling, was Giondar. His face was a mask of anger—no, more than that.”

  “Rage?” Pandy asked.

  “Precisely. In a booming voice, he asked what had become of his beloved Dery. My father told him the entire tale and Giondar incinerated him on the spot. My mother began to scream and she, too, was reduced to ashes in an instant. And then the horror began for my brothers and sisters. We were immobilized while Giondar went about the house looking for the servants. They all tried to flee through the garden, but Giondar caught them.”

  “Those are the piles of ashes we saw?” asked Iole.

  “They are.”

  “But he didn’t destroy the entire family. I don’t get it,” said Pandy.

  “Figs, the mom and dad are bad enough,” Alcie said.

  “Oh, but he is destroying us. But he is doing it one by one, very slowly and in a way we cannot understand. His incantations over all of us have been the same and yet we are being murdered in different ways.”

  Pandora had so many questions running through her head, she couldn’t focus on just one.

  “After he had dispatched the servants, Giondar caught our brother Noureddin trying to scale the garde
n wall to get help. Those of us there were forced to watch as he held Noureddin in the palm of his great hand and said only a few simple words. And then, Noureddin … changed.”

  Zoe paused.

  “What, Zoe, what did he say?” asked Pandy.

  Zoe spoke low, as if repeating the phrase might do more harm.

  “And so to these children, who killed my beloved, my curse is a prison which you cannot flee. The cure for your ruin, that which you resemble, hangs low in a garden which you’ll never see.”

  “Weird,” said Pandy.

  “Oogly-boogly,” Alcie whispered.

  “Then Noureddin was suddenly held fast in a net, his body crunched into a ball, and reddish white bumps began to appear all over his body.”

  “We saw him,” Pandy said. “As we came in.”

  “Giondar disappeared and for days we neither heard nor saw anything. The rest of the family returned to the house, unaware of the danger, only to be held hostage. We could not help Noureddin, but we thought it was over and that Noureddin was his final act of vengeance. Then one week later, at sundown we heard wailing, which seemed to come from within the very walls. The next day, Giondar appeared and again we all were forced to watch as he cast his spell over Amina and she slowly began to turn to stone. Days later, Hassan was taken out to the garden. Seeds began to pour out of his mouth and they will not stop. He cannot eat or drink. He can barely breathe. And so it went on. Giondar weeps through the night and roams the house during the day, checking on all of us to make certain we are suffering. Zinebi was his last victim, until Mahfouza arrived. Now no one can help us.”

  “Except someone with very powerful magic,” Pandy said. “That was part of what Giondar said. Well, if we’re here …”

  She turned to the others.

  “… what do we have?”

  “All I have is what I’ve always carried,” said Alcie. “Except a travel bag of dove hearts.”

  Pandy and Iole whipped their heads in unison, but before they could get a word out, Zoe began to shake her head.

  “It has to be something all of you carry, because you all passed through the gate.”

  Iole gasped. She turned to Pandy, an enormous smile on her face.

  “The fruit.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “That Which You Resemble”

  “What fruit?” Mahfouza asked.

  “Of course!” Pandy said, grabbing her carrying pouch. “And now the message on the wall makes sense!”

  “What fruit?” Mahfouza asked again.

  “From the Garden of the Jinn,” Pandy replied, taking an opal peach from her pouch.

  “You took the fruit!” Mahfouza almost shrieked.

  “Shhhh!” Pandy quieted her. “We didn’t take it. It fell at our feet. And good thing, too. We found a message on the wall when we left that said something about the fruits of labor repairing the ruined and vanquishing our foes.”

  “ ‘The cure for your ruin, that which you resemble, hangs low in a garden,’ ” Iole chanted softly. “This fruit is the cure!”

  “How?” asked Zoe.

  “It’s all in one phrase,” said Iole.

  “ ‘That which you resemble,’ ” Pandy said, looking to Iole for confirmation.

  “That’s it,” Iole agreed.

  “What do I resemble?” Mahfouza cried out. “I resemble no piece of fruit!”

  “Shhhh!” Pandy cautioned.

  Mahfouza was right. She looked nothing like a piece of fruit. She was in pieces. She was parts of herself.

  And then something clicked in Pandy’s brain. Without any warning, Pandy found herself tensing as if she were on the edge of a cliff, and her father’s words on her last night in Athens came rushing back: “.… your powers will start coming into their own … the power to think things through, to see the big picture, not just the small scene … the power of your mind might manifest itself in interesting ways.”

  A whole new way of thinking suddenly presented itself. It was as if a light went on in the darkness. Immediately, she started to think of Mahfouza’s body not in the sense of literally looking like a piece of fruit … but what did her particular affliction represent? What were the traits that could be applied to a piece of fruit? Parts, pieces, segments.

  “Lay them all out,” she said. “One of each.”

  “You must hurry!” Zoe said.

  “Come on, everyone, faster!” Pandy said, almost sputtering. “Open your pouches!”

  Quickly, nine pieces of fruit were placed on a small rug. An apple, an orange, a pomegranate, lemon, pear, peach, cherry, fig, and plum. Pandy studied each piece intently. The only piece of fruit that could be divided easily into parts—into segments—was an orange. Trusting her instincts, she picked up the orange. Nothing. She waved it over Mahfouza’s body. No change. But when she approached Mahfouza’s face, the beautiful hard topaz became soft and pliable. Suddenly she was holding a real orange in her hands. Quickly, Pandy peeled away the rind, broke off a juicy segment, and carefully fed it to Mahfouza. Then she stood back.

  The transformation was instantaneous.

  Mahfouza’s legs and arms quickly glided into their proper places as her facial features rearranged themselves and her head slid on top of her torso. All of this was done before Mahfouza had time to take a breath.

  “No way,” Homer whispered.

  Mahfouza faltered back, leaning heavily on an overturned couch and nearly knocking over the colored panel of glass. Righting herself, she was stunned for a moment; she stood with her arms held straight out in front as if to ward something away. When she fully realized that she had regained her true shape once again, she grabbed Pandy’s face in her hands and kissed her on both cheeks. In all the excitement, Dido leaped up to put his forepaws on Pandy.

  “Oh, Dido,” Mahfouza cried softly. “He’s been so good, Pandy. So quiet. I found him just tied up outside the gate yesterday. Oh, clever girl … thank you, thank you.”

  “Guh-roovy,” Alcie said, keeping her voice low.

  “How did you know?” Iole asked.

  “Giondar’s curse. She didn’t really look like an orange, but she was in pieces. Only thing she resembled like that was an orange. Had to be.”

  Iole looked at Pandy as if she had never seen her before.

  “You’re brilliant,” Iole said.

  Pandy smiled awkwardly as Mahfouza stifled a laugh. Zoe coughed lightly to be acknowledged.

  “Zoe!” Mahfouza said.

  “Okay,” Pandy said. “Can’t get ahead of myself. What’s shriveled? What’s dried?”

  “Nothing,” said Alcie, kneeling to look more closely at the rainbow of fruit.

  “Nothing, normally,” Pandy said, her brain whirring, her hand passing over the remaining eight pieces of fruit. “But Zoe’s still alive.”

  “Barely,” Zoe said.

  “What can be dried and still be good, like, eaten?”

  “Genius,” said Iole softly, standing to the side, watching Pandy in awe.

  “What do we have … pear? No. Peach, no. Apple? Not really. Cherry, maybe, but they’re not great. Fig? Could be.”

  Pandy reached her hand out to pick up the sapphire fig and a spark shot out from the center of the fruit, catching her in the middle of her palm, sending her sprawling backward. Then the fig shattered.

  “Pandora!” Mahfouza almost shrieked as Douban and Alcie, who were closest, bent to help her.

  “Wrong,” Pandy said, picking herself up. “Not a fig.”

  “You okay?” asked Alcie.

  “Little fire can’t hurt me,” Pandy said, shaking her head to clear it. “Good thing we have several of each fruit.”

  “And I think we know who to thank for that,” Alcie said.

  “Okay, what’s next? Pomegranate, nope. Lemon … don’t think so. Plum. Plum. Dried plums are great! I love ’em. My dad does too—says they keep him regular, whatever that means.”

  Her hand hovered above the plum. Slowly she lowered it u
ntil the amethyst became a soft, real piece of fruit. Then, before their eyes, the plum became a dried, wrinkled mass not even half its original size. Instantly, Pandy picked it up and gently fed it to Zoe, who had become so weakened by telling her tale Pandy was scared she might not be able to chew. But as the tiniest bit of dried fruit slid down her throat, the flesh grew back on her bones, ligaments and tendons repaired themselves, and her organs, now full of fluid, began working again. It looked to everyone as if she was being inflated with air. In almost no time, the shriveled mass was gone and in its place sat a gorgeous woman, only slightly older than Mahfouza, with long black hair falling to her waist. She fell back on the pile of rugs, feeling her arms, legs, and face. Then Zoe sat up.

  “Water.”

  Douban was at her side immediately, offering his water bag, and she gulped greedily until the bag was empty.

  “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely.

  “There is more where that came from,” he answered.

  “We’re in a desert,” she said.

  “Ah, yes … right.”

  “Who’s next?” Pandy said, picking up the six pieces of fruit from the floor.

  “Here,” said Alcie, putting a new fig into Pandy’s hand.

  “Come,” said Mahfouza, helping Zoe to stand. “This way.”

  After Pandy commanded Dido to stay and hide until she came back, Mahfouza led everyone out of the storage room. Then Mahfouza crept back down the long corridor to the large salon. She turned, motioning for everyone to follow fast as she pointed outside at the quickly lightening sky. Silently she approached her sister who was turning to stone.

  “Amina,” Mahfouza said softly to the dozing girl. “Amina, wake up!”

  Slowly Amina opened her eyes, nearly crying out when she saw both Mahfouza and Zoe.

  “Shhhh!” Zoe said. “This girl is going to help you.”

  Pandy set the seven pieces of fruit on a nearby couch. She couldn’t speak her thoughts aloud; she had to think it all through. Stone. Hard. Something that was half stone, half real? No. Something that was gray, like this stone? Nothing. Not that. Think! What was it definitely not? Not a pomegranate. Lemons—nothing stonelike. Pear, nope. Peach! A peach has a hard stone in the middle of it! She was about to reach for the opal peach, when suddenly Iole’s hand came out of nowhere and stopped her. Pandy looked at Iole, who, for the very first time that Pandy could recall, didn’t look at her like she was making the biggest mistake, but instead, like she was an equal and just needed a few more seconds to make the right decision.