“I never thought I would be glad we drank a loony adviser guy in Egypt,” Homer said, referencing the ashes of the wicked Calchas and everyone’s ability to now perfectly grasp any and all languages, “but it, like, makes traveling a whole lot easier.”
“Gods . . . I don’t know what to choose!” said Iole, reading aloud for Alcie to hear.
“Let’s order everything!” Pandy countered.
“Works for me,” Alcie said.
As the heaping platters were set before them, Pandy quickly dished up a plate of bulbs, lentils, and leeks for Alcie, then one for herself. Just as everyone was about to take their first bite, the serving girl approached the table.
“If I may speak freely, sir,” said the girl. “You have three lovely wives. A tad young, maybe. Perhaps a little worse for wear, but lovely.”
“Figs!” said Alcie.
“They’re not my wives,” Homer said, answering the girl in her own tongue.
“We’re not his wives,” Iole said on top of him.
“Consorts?”
“No!” Pandy said, a little too loudly.
“Playthings?” said the girl innocently.
“That’s it!” said Alcie, almost falling out of her chair as she rose and turned in the direction of the girl’s voice, clutching the table to steady herself.
“Alcie, sit down,” said Pandy, pulling her back into her seat. “No, nothing like that. We’re all just . . . friends.”
“Oh, yes,” said the girl with a wink at Homer. “Absolutely.”
“Excuse me, eyes here, please!” said Pandy, echoing something her father used to say years ago when he was really trying to get Pandy’s attention. “I don’t know why I should tell you, as it truly is none of your business. But we are all just friends.”
“Oh,” said the girl with a sudden shock when she realized Pandy was telling the truth. “Oh, I’m sorry. Then you shouldn’t be eating . . . oh, big mistake. My mistake. Sorry.”
She frantically waved a young clearing boy over to the table. In a flash, the succulent dishes were gone. She even took a bitter bulb out of Alcie’s mouth just as Alcie was about to bite.
She then hurried over to a low side table and retrieved four different menus listing completely different items.
“I’ll just give you these to look over instead. Be back in a moment.”
“Cold marinated tuna,” Pandy read. “Fish of the day with coriander, boiled lamb, fruit salad with no honey, rice and parsley salad, oatie cakes with cream.”
“The other one sounded better for some reason,” Alcie said.
“I have no doubt,” Iole said dryly, now snapped out of her reverie. “We were about to consume a complete meal made from almost all known aphrodisiacs.”
“Aphrowhosiwhats?” said Alcie.
“Plainly put,” Iole answered, “foods of romance.”
After a brief pause during which Homer stared at the floor and Pandy and Iole stared at the ceiling, Alcie finally spoke up.
“So then, this is, like, a wacko cult, right?”
Pandy burst out laughing first, followed quickly by Iole and Alcie. Homer kept his eyes on the floor until Pandy noticed that his shoulders were jiggling up and down as he tried to keep silent, then he burst out with a guffaw that startled everyone. And Alcie nearly fell out of her chair . . . again. Quieting themselves, they ordered fish, lamb, rice, and four glasses of grape juice.
“One large plate of steamed vegetables, please,” requested Iole. “Cook’s selection. Thank you.”
As they were eating, Pandy putting bite-sized pieces of lamb and mouthfuls of fish onto Alcie’s plate, Pandy and Iole described the Temple of Aphrodite as best they could. Even though they were not consuming the most appetizing foods, even with their injuries and almost complete exhaustion, without warning Pandy had a momentary feeling of joy and calm. They were so close to capturing Lust . . . the source of it, now residing in Aphrodite’s golden apple. Hermes would have told Aphrodite of their need, and she would help them, Pandy was certain. It was only a matter of hours now and another evil would be in the box; that would make four, and they would be over the hump. She felt like rejoicing, as if any and everything were somehow possible.
“Why are you grinning?” Iole asked her through a mouthful of eggplant.
Pandy told them all the thoughts that were running through her head.
“Alcie,” she concluded, “I feel that, once Aphrodite knows exactly what happened and why, she’ll restore your sight. I feel it!”
Without saying a word, Alcie reached out for Pandy and squeezed her hand.
Leaving the tavern well fed, Homer led them back through the agora and its slowly thinning crowds, beyond the glow of the hanging oil lamps and around the side of the enormous temple. Finding a spot behind a thicket of bushes, without too many rocks on the ground, they sat down. Keeping their voices low and their eyes open for guards, they discussed anything that might possibly happen once they got inside . . . and they waited.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Temple of Aphrodite
Pandy jerked her head as she awoke with a start. Her cheek was hot and slightly sore from where she’d been pressing it into Homer’s shoulder.
“Wha . . . ?” she mumbled. “What time is it?”
“I think it’s just after midnight,” Iole whispered.
“Why did you let me sleep?”
“Because you were mumbling about Tiresias the Younger and we all wanted to listen,” Alcie said softly.
“Kidding,” she said after a long pause.
“We had to stay here. There were people wandering back and forth for the last couple of hours, but now they just seem to be gathered at the far end of the agora. This town doesn’t close down after sunset,” Homer said. “Besides, the temple has been dark inside.”
“We have been trying to figure the best way to get some light in there without being obtrusive,” Iole said. “But just before you woke up, a lamp was lit.”
“I see it,” Pandy said, looking between the columns and the unfinished side walls, at a single flame burning deep in the recesses of the building. “It’s far enough back that it might be close to the altar.”
As she spoke, another flame flared up, then settled into a steady glow.
“I don’t like this,” Iole said. “There shouldn’t be anyone in there.”
There was a pause. Then, like a bolt, the answer came to Pandy.
“That’s not just anyone,” she whispered, her excitement causing her to overpronounce her words. “It’s someone who is expecting visitors! Guys, there’s only one person who knows we’re coming. Well, there’s two actually . . . maybe three . . . but the only one who matters is lighting the way for us. It’s Aphrodite!”
“You think?” Homer said.
“Absolutely,” Pandy said. “She’s waited until no one was around and the way was clear. She’s lit lamps so we won’t kill ourselves. This is a good sign.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Alcie said. “Homie, help me up.”
When no one moved, Alcie sighed.
“I’m sorry. Please?”
“Alce,” Pandy said quietly, “I think you should stay here.”
“I concur,” Iole said.
“Me too,” Homer said.
“First of all . . . Iole? Shut up,” Alcie said, trying to keep her voice low. “Homie, I can’t even deal with you. And Pandy? Two words: as if!”
“Alcie, we will come back for you as soon as we get Lust,” Pandy said. “But it’s going to be difficult to lead you. . . .”
“Figs! Figs! I’m coming and that’s it!”
Alcie rose and took one giant step toward the temple and stumbled, rolling nearly a meter in the dirt.
“I’ll keep going!” she threatened, lying on her back, no longer trying to keep her voice soft.
“Okay!” Pandy said. “Okay. But stay close.”
“Oh, yes,” Alcie snickered. “I really have a choice.”
Getting A
lcie to her feet, the four of them crossed the road alongside the temple and, keeping to the shadows, made their way to a large gap in the unfinished wall. Getting Alcie over marble blocks and around columns was slowing them down considerably until Homer simple hoisted her onto his back.
“Am I too heavy, Homie?”
“Don’t be silly,” he said.
“See, Iole? No trouble at all. Thppppppth.
”
She stuck her tongue out and fluttered it at Iole.
“Over here.”
“Oh,” said Alcie whipping her head. “Thppppppth.”
Pandy led the way, around a maze of construction materials and half-finished columns, into the temple proper, guided only by the two small lamps at the far end. At last she found the center aisle, still strewn with debris and bits of scaffolding. Looking toward the altar, she could just discern a large statue of Aphrodite with a platform set in front. Grabbing Iole’s hand with her crooked arm, she started forward, and then stopped abruptly.
By themselves, two more lamp wicks flared up out of the darkness. Then two more after that. Then another two. In seconds, every one of the twenty or so lamps close to the altar was ablaze.
Then, as they watched in silence, a solitary figure began to materialize in the center of the platform.
“What’s happ—?” Alcie began.
Homer squeezed her kneecaps twice to quiet her.
Pandy was breathing hard, and yet, somewhere deep inside, she was calm at the same time. Aphrodite, in her glory, was by now almost fully formed and was beaming at them all. Her enchanted girdle had been left back on Mount Olympus, and her golden hair flowed down over a simple night-robe. Her skin seemed even more lustrous than Pandy remembered; her teeth were whiter, and her cheeks and lips a deeper shade of pink. The last time Pandy had seen the goddess had been that afternoon (only thirteen centuries earlier) when she’d won the golden apple. And before that, it had been over three moons ago, as Pandy stood in front of all the gods at the end of Zeus’s teardrop table and took on her quest.
But now Aphrodite was smiling beautifully at her. Hermes had told her, obviously, what was at stake, and here she was, ready to help. Without warning, Aphrodite stretched out her arms to beckon them forward.
Pandy, Iole, and Homer nearly ran to the altar. Pandy and Iole immediately fell to their knees (Iole winced as her leg throbbed in the new position), heads bowed, as Homer lowered Alcie to the ground.
“Where are you going?” she asked loudly as she felt him fall away from her. He stood again and looked sheepishly toward the Goddess of Love.
“You’re in front of Aphrodite,” he whispered in Alcie’s ear.
“Oh. Oh!” she cried, and clutched at his shoulder as she knelt with him.
At this Aphrodite giggled with amusement and . . . “There it was,” Pandy thought. The same tinkly laugh that made Pandy instantly happy, made her think of everything good and lovely. Pandy noted that at this moment, it didn’t make her feel that way quite as much as it had before, but she attributed that to extreme nervousness.
“Oh, my. So serious, all of you. Pandora, stand now,” the goddess said, motioning with her beautiful white hands.
Quickly, Pandy got to her feet.
“Pandora, dearest,” Aphrodite began, smiling. “I know why you’ve come; Hermes has told me everything. You know, I was recollecting that day, so long ago now, with that silly shepherd. Of course, even though you all were there the second time around, so to speak, you didn’t really change anything and it all played out exactly as it should. But I had no idea that I had the pure source of Lust sitting on my dressing table for the last three months! Why, I haven’t even touched the thing in decades. I mean, really, who knew?” She laughed and tipped her head forward. “We have been watching you, you know . . . oh, I’m certain you must have guessed that by now. And you are doing so . . . so . . . well in this quest.”
Aphrodite’s voice trailed off slightly as she gazed at Pandy for so long that Pandy wasn’t sure whether she should speak or not.
Suddenly, Aphrodite refocused her attention with a tiny shake of her head. With a tremendous flourish, Aphrodite raised her arms high and cupped her hands. There was a golden flash around her fingers and, when she brought her hands down again, Pandy beheld the golden apple in her palm. In that instant, Aphrodite became Pandy’s absolute, all-time favorite goddess, and Pandy promised herself that if she actually made it back home to Athens, she would keep a small statue of Aphrodite in her room.
“You have no idea the great joy it gives me to now be of service to you,” she said. “I willingly give this token, this symbol, this . . . apple . . . for your cause.”
She slowly stretched her long, smooth arm and held the golden orb out to Pandy. Immediately, Pandy sighed with relief and walked toward Aphrodite and her luminous smile. She stepped up on a small pile of rubble nearby to be at eye level with the goddess.
But just as Pandy was about to take the apple, the words “thank you” on her lips, Aphrodite closed her fingers around it once again.
“However, we both know the importance of this gift, yes?”
Pandy was so startled at first that she couldn’t answer right away. It was almost as if she’d been roughly shaken from a dream. Things had been going so well, and now . . .
“Yes, Goddess,” she said, finally.
“And we both know that I should receive something, however small, in return, right? I mean, I know that your quest is basically going to save the world, and all that. La dee da. But this little trinket has prettied up my apartments for eons, and I just want someone to give up something for me. Is that so wrong?”
Pandy was silent. She was trying to wrap her mind around the goddess’s logic . . . or lack of it.
“Pandora?” Aphrodite asked.
“Yes,” Pandy answered. “I mean no . . . no . . . it’s not . . . wrong. I just don’t know what I have . . . to give you.”
“Oh, Hephaestus’s beard! It doesn’t have to be you specifically. It can be any of you. And I only want one. It’s something small.”
“What can I—we—give you?”
Aphrodite smiled bigger than Pandy thought was possible.
“Your life.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Choice
Pandy staggered back as if she’d been punched, her mind blank.
“What!” Iole blurted out.
Alcie, mouth open but absolutely mute, grabbed handfuls of air as she tried to find Homer. Homer caught her hands and, without thinking, held her head to his chest. Alcie wrestled away and got to her feet.
“No lemon way!” she cried.
Somewhere in her stunned brain, Pandy realized that Alcie’s outburst and swearing at a goddess might be of even more danger than what she’d just heard . . . what she couldn’t possibly have heard.
“Alcie . . . Alcie!” Pandy said, moving to Alcie and taking her by the shoulders. “Calm down! Just . . . just be quiet!”
“But . . . !”
“Alcie! Stop!”
Alcie closed her mouth but stayed standing, her hand on Homer’s head for balance. Pandy turned to face Aphrodite and stepped forward, her mouth dry and her fists clenching and releasing. She was too shocked for tears.
“D-do you . . . do you want some . . . years off of our lives, one of our lives?” she began. “Or do you want control of our lives . . . do you want a slave?” Deep down, she understood what the goddess was saying, but she desperately didn’t want to understand, so she was stammering, grasping at anything.
“Oh, I am so sorry for the confusion. My mistake,” Aphrodite said cheerily. “No, a full life. One of you has to give theirs up and be . . . well, I guess the word would be ‘dead.’ I think that’s said plainly enough.”
“But . . . ,” Pandy said, her legs beginning to shake and her lower lip beginning to quiver. “Why?”
Aphrodite looked startled and confused in a way that Pandy had only seen when her father told her mo
ther she’d spent too much on clothes. It was a look of utter incomprehension. After a moment, Aphrodite smiled again.
“Because it’s what I want.”
And Pandy knew that was that. There was no way to get the apple now and no way to complete the quest without it. Her mind bounced from thought to thought like a pigskin ball filled with hot air. She could rush the goddess, but that would mean instant death. There was obviously no use in negotiating. She could summon Hermes, but if this was Aphrodite’s decision, there was no way Hermes could dissuade her. And Pandy wouldn’t dare beseech Zeus.
“Take me,” Homer said suddenly, jolting Pandy.
“Okey-dokey!” Aphrodite said.
“NO!” Pandy and Alcie said at the same time.
“Wait! Please!” Pandy yelled, imploring the goddess. “Please wait. Just a moment. We have to discuss this.”
“Certainly,” Aphrodite said. “Take all the time you need. But not too much.”
Pandy walked a short distance down the main aisle and slumped against one of the tall pillars as Iole, with her bad leg, stumbled over a small chunk of marble and Homer guided Alcie. No one spoke for a long time.
“Why is she doing this?” Iole asked. “What purpose does this serve?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Pandy said.
“But it’s illogical,” Iole protested.
“It doesn’t matter, Iole,” Pandy went on. “This is one of those times. We have all heard stories about the gods’ . . . what’s the word?”
“Capriciousness? Whimsy? Insanity?” Iole answered.
“All of those,” Pandy said. “It’s moments like this that no one knows why they do what they do. I don’t even think they know.”
“Waiting!” came Aphrodite’s silvery voice from the altar.
“Can we talk her out of it?” Homer said.
“No,” Pandy said. “I saw the look on her face. No.”
There was another long silence.
“It should be me,” Homer said at last. Alcie began to protest, but Homer shushed her. “This wasn’t my quest to begin with. I didn’t even want to come and I only stayed because . . .”
He looked at Alcie, her head bent toward the floor, her sightless eyes shifting back and forth. He gently reached out and touched her face. She held his hand to her cheek.
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