Pandora Gets Frightened

by Carolyn Hennesy

  “I don’t see any easy way around,” Alcie said. “We have to go in.”

  Carefully, she and Pandy waded in the sea of spirits until they came within a few centimeters of the wall. Pandy gazed up at the bodies, each shackled at the wrists and ankles, and at the single chain by which each soul in the hall was bound. She took Alcie’s hand.

  “I lied,” Alcie said, before she took in a huge breath. “I never ate with the hair girls.”

  “I know,” Pandy said, and filled her lungs.

  They moved in to the wall. Pandy ducked as the first object at face level was someone’s stomach, still half full. She straightened up and into three faces, a man and two women, crammed together. She nearly cried out and would have lost all her air, but she kept her wits and moved on. She and Alcie were bobbing under togas and robes, stepping over the chain, weaving around cloak pins and hair combs. They ignored the intestines, kidneys, and bladders that brushed their arms, necks, and faces. The fuchsia and pink flashes ahead were becoming steadier and brighter and just when Pandy felt the last bit of air leave her body and her chest begin to tighten and ache, she felt a tug on her arm as Alcie pulled her out of the wall and back into a low-level sea of spirits.

  Then she gasped again and almost blew out her deflated lungs.

  Persephone was indeed on her throne of cold, black marble. And she was bound so securely that she couldn’t move a single immortal muscle.

  Only she was bound upside down.

  Her back rested on the seat, her legs rose up the back of the throne, and her feet dangled off the top while her head hung where her legs should have been. Her beautiful robes were gathered tightly about her as the chain, which now linked her to every other soul in the room, wound its way around and around her perfect form including holding a gag of golden-colored silk cloth in her mouth. But, Pandy observed the chain was ultimately not so thick that the goddess couldn’t have broken it easily if Persephone had chosen to be free. Then Pandy saw the glint, the dull color that was not quite silver, not quite bronze or copper. Pandy knew this metal only too well; after all, she had a net made of exactly the same substance: adamantine.

  Quickly, Pandy sped through the small span of shades that divided her and Alcie—and now Homer and Iole, who’d joined them—from Persephone. The goddess seemed to be sleeping; her breathing was even and she didn’t appear panicked. Sensing Pandy’s approach, Persephone opened her eyes. Seeing Pandy and the others, she squinted and tried to smile. Then she wriggled in disgust and frustration.

  “We have to get her upright,” Pandy commanded.

  “Impossible,” Homer said. “The chain not only wraps around her, it binds her to the throne.”

  “We have to get the gag out,” Alcie insisted.

  “May I try, goddess?” Pandy asked.

  “Uhhhh cuhhh yuhhh cuuh twwah,” Persephone choked out.

  Pandy and Alcie both tried to work the chain off the golden cloth with no success.

  “Might I suggest burning it?” Iole ventured.

  Persephone’s eyes went wide.

  “A controlled burn,” Iole pressed on. “Pandy, you can just smolder the fabric until it can be pulled it out.”

  “I promise not to hurt you, Persephone,” Pandy said resolutely, not having the faintest idea whether the immortal would be affected or not. She remembered what Hera looked like after she’d set the Queen of Heaven on fire, but this would be small and—simple. “Besides, you saved my life. I owe you this at least. So … can I?”

  Persephone looked at Pandy for a moment.

  “Uhkaaaahhy.”

  Immediately, Pandy focused her fire-power on the cloth, and the edges began to blacken and singe. Alcie began to pull the charred silk away from the chain, trying to get every scrap and ash before the goddess could swallow any. At one point, Alcie had to work her fingers underneath the chain and almost into Persephone’s mouth. Persephone tensed just a touch and inadvertently and accidentally bit lightly on Alcie’s fingers. Alcie yelped and fell back, nearly crashing into the sea of spirits. Persephone, even though she was bound and still gagged, managed a small shrug and a weak smile.

  “Yes, yes!” Alcie said, as if talking to a mischievous toddler. “Yes, funny goddess. Funny, funny immortal.”

  Finally, enough of the silk had been singed and pried away that nothing remained but several links of adamantine chain, which Pandy gently pulled from Persephone’s mouth and down onto her chin.

  “Well, that was brilliant, I must say,” Persephone said, trying in vain to twist her head into a more upright position. “I can see, Iole, that your brain has regained all its power!”

  “And then some,” Alcie said.

  Iole just smiled.

  “I don’t need to ask who did this to you,” Pandy said. “We already know.”

  “I know!” Persephone said, smiling sadly, which of course, since she was upside down, looked like a frown; Pandy decided that either expression would have worked in the moment.

  “I left you all and went after Ixion,” Persephone started. “I materialized both him and his wheel back into the proper spot in Hades, got him nice and tied up, set the wheel spinning and set it on fire. Then I rushed back to the palace to see if Buster had returned. I walked in here, took a look at the far wall, screamed and fell splat into the ‘carpet of shades’ that Hera had created. The next thing I know, that she-dog has me trussed up like a goat for a sacrifice. I was unconscious for a moment and when I woke, she was hovering overhead—at least I think it was overhead, my perspective is a little squirrelly—anyway, she was laughing like a Maenad and prattling on about how she had enslaved everybody with one turn of a key; how everyone was doing her bidding and I wouldn’t even recognize this palace when she was through with it. How, when she ruled the earth and skies, this would be her underworld base of operations. Blah-bitty-blah. That was I don’t know how many days ago.”

  Pandy looked toward the ceiling, suddenly noticing that the chain that wound over, under, and around all the souls in the room, connecting the thousands of shackles on one long length of adamantine—the same chain that now held Persephone fast—ascended from the goddess’s throne and finished off in a single, final shackle binding together the taloned feet of the bird she’d seen earlier—a giant eagle spinning in lazy circles high above the room—and closed with an enormous lock. And out of that lock protruded a golden key.

  “An eagle?” Pandy whispered to herself. “Where would Hera get an eagle that size …?”

  In that same instant, she knew: this was the same eagle that had tormented her father for so many centuries ages ago. This was the bird that had, day after day, eaten away at Prometheus’s liver until Zeus had finally ended her father’s punishment.

  “And, she turned my mother into a dog!” Persephone was saying. “A tiny little dog like you’d put on your lap!”

  “Kinda fits,” Alcie mumbled.

  “I heard that!” Persephone squealed. “But you’re right. Mother’s been doing Hera’s bidding for so long now, she should probably stay like that; pooping out autumn leaves and snowflakes and little springtime flowers.”

  “I’m sorry,” Iole said, trying to keep a straight face, “but I need a moment to get that image out of my head.”

  “How do you know your mother’s a dog?” Pandy asked.

  “Same way I know what Buster’s been going through. I’ve been watching the wall, what I could of it. And I’ve been getting reports from those spirits closest to it. That’s the reason I screamed when I first came in here … that’s when Hera caught me by surprise.”

  “Persephone,” Pandy said, her mind leaping ahead, not really processing the goddess’s answer in trying to come to the point, “we have to speak to Hades. I must find the lord of the underworld. I think he alone may know where Fear is hiding or what form it may have taken. We’ve come across nothing else and it’s the only thing I can think of—wait, why did you scream when you looked at a wall?”

  “Well, look
for yourself, honey; the story is right there.”

  “I just see some nice murals,” Alcie said, gazing around.

  “Really?” Persephone chided, as if Alcie had gone blind.

  Pandy stared around the room from one wall to the next. One was a nice, if somewhat dark, bland pastoral scene—very familiar. One wall was unusually grayish-white. The third wall seemed similar to the first. Until she saw them: the figures moving in the third picture, the tree leaves bending ever so slightly, the water rippling softly in a pool. A pool she’d seen before: Lethe.

  “Gods,” Iole said softly.

  Each wall of Hades’ throne room gave a perfect view of one region of the underworld and whatever happened to be going on at that precise moment. Erebus, bland and flat. The Fields of Asphodel and the pool of Lethe, only Hera had ensconced two gorgons to prevent anyone from taking a drink of the forgetful waters and now the line of spirits, still with all the memories of their ended lives, wailing and weeping and unable to drink, stretched back and out of sight. To the gates of Hades, Pandy was certain. She looked at the whitish wall and had no idea what region that could be. Then she looked at the wall closest to her—the back wall. The wall that mattered most to Persephone, and the one that she could barely see.

  The pretty orange, yellow, and white splashes were the flames of the fire pits of Tartarus growing brighter and hotter with every second. The inferno was so fierce and blinding that Pandy was surprised she couldn’t feel the heat coming from the view. Smack in the middle of the wall burned the deepest pit, and in the middle of it Hades was bound, completely, to a huge glowing iron chair. He was not screaming in agony from the flames; in fact, he only appeared slightly inconvenienced by the searing heat, but utterly furious at his bondage.

  Hera stood off to the side, tossing bits of wood and charcoal into the fire. She was saying something to Hades, sneering and taunting him by the looks of it. Every once in a while she’d address the small dog at her feet who was huddling close to Hera’s robes, trying to avoid its tail catching a spark.

  “Buster’s still in there, isn’t he?” Persephone asked, two small tears rolling down onto her forehead and into her hair. “He’s still in that horrible pit?”

  Pandy sighed and nodded in resignation.

  “Exactly where Hera’s been trying to get me all along. I hate giving her what she wants, but now we have no choice.”

  She twisted her body so that, out of respect, she was at least trying to face Persephone.

  “I’m sorry, but we have to go …”

  “No! You can’t! You can’t leave yet!” Persephone wailed. “Pandora, listen to me. I don’t matter and Hera knows it. I mean that she won’t want to hurt me because … because … she won’t gain anything by it. But if you leave without helping to free these spirits, almost all of whom have done nothing to warrant this kind of punishment—except one silly little man on the wall over there—used to be a teacher, I think. Horrid. Anyway … you cannot leave without trying to help them. If you’re killed and Hera comes back here and uses this palace as her underworld home, this enslavement will continue forever. But if you can free them, then I’ll also be freed and I can try to get them to a safe place.”

  “What safe place?” Alcie cried. “Where?”

  “I haven’t thought of that yet, Alcestis!”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s as simple as turning the key,” Persephone said, gazing straight up.

  “But we don’t have time,” Pandy said, pacing back and forth before the throne. “I don’t even know how many days I have left before my time for the quest runs out!”

  “Days?” Persephone said. “Days? You don’t have days, honey. You’ve been down here a little over ten days—topside days, that is—already. Why do you think Hera is so excited? She’s probably staring at Fear right now! She’s not leaving Buster or the flame pits, because she wants to have Fear in her hands when your time runs out. You have … lemme think … ten minus the four, but then you have to add the … and divide by … Pandora, you have three hours left.”

  Pandy stood stock-still for only a second. Then, without any warning, she threw up.

  “Nice,” said a splattered spirit close by.

  As Iole took her arm and helped her to straighten up, Pandy glanced at the view into Tartarus; Hera was throwing back her head, laughing as if she just played the funniest trick on everyone. She lit a stick from the flames and flung it onto Hades’ robes. She picked up Demeter and tossed her high into the air. Behavior, even Pandy knew, she would never dream of were she not sure of impending and complete victory.

  “Three hours or three minutes,” Pandy said, wiping her mouth and standing straight, even though she felt like curling up into a ball. “We’re at least gonna try …”

  “No, no. Listen to me,” Persephone said, her voice urgent. “There’s only one way to get to Tartarus if you’re not initially sent there by the judges: through the Elysian Fields. And you, mortals and un-heroes, would never be allowed to enter from the palace. But there is a way. If you had an escort, you could go. Someone who rightfully belonged there. If you free everyone, you also free the heroes inside the palace. Oh, didn’t Hera gloat over their bondage! Free them and you free Achilles, Ajax … you name it. I’ll send one of them with you. Deal?”

  Pandy didn’t need to look at Iole and Homer and Alcie, although they were staring, trying to anticipate her next words. But already the answer was on the tip of her lips. The logic was simple—charge ahead and the allotted time would certainly run out and she’d fail. Take the time for a good cause and, perhaps, the way would be made easier. Months ago, she’d have fretted over this decision—talked to Iole and Alcie about it, weighing their instincts with hers. Now, she didn’t need a conference on what to do.

  “Deal.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Lesser Evil of Slavery

  With every second that passed of the full sixty she’d spent staring at the eagle circling overhead, Pandy felt the tension building.

  “Pandy …,” Iole said.

  “We have to bring it down,” Pandy blurted, ignoring her friend. “That’s Zeus’s eagle. I know it is. He looks just the way my father used to describe it; gold beak, silver talons and tail feathers. Dad would wake up, chained to his slab, and see that bird’s outline right before dawn—just waiting on a peak high above him. The first ray of sunlight would bounce off the eagle’s beak and Dad knew it was gonna swoop down and start pecking at his liver. This is that bird, and we have to get him down here. That’s all there is to it. Homer, you’re at the bottom of the chain, then Alcie, then me, then Iole.”

  Pandy pointed to the chain floating up from the back of Persephone’s throne. “We’re gonna pull that bird down out of the air and when it gets close enough, I’ll turn the key, unlock the lock, and release the end of the chain. Easy as oatie cakes.”

  “Pandy?” Iole said again.

  “What?”

  “Did it ever occur to you that this might be a lesser evil?”

  Pandy paused a moment.

  “Uh … no, no it had not occurred to me. What? Lesser evils were in the box with the great Evils. Hera has enslaved all these spirits, but … but … she couldn’t create the evil. Wow! Could she?”

  “Don’t forget,” Iole answered. “The gods themselves were the ones who originally put all the evils, large and small, in the box in the first place. I wouldn’t put it past Hera to know exactly where this one landed and use it for her own purposes. Or maybe she did fashion a new evil just for this reason.”

  “After all,” Alcie said. “We have slaves back home and we’ve never thought it was wrong or anything. Temples have slaves. So why do we think this is so wrong? We do, right? I mean, it’s wrong, right?”

  “Of course,” Pandy said. “This is horrible.”

  “Conquered warriors are sometimes brought home as slaves, but that was always considered one of the spoils of a victory. Neither side saw it as an evil,” Homer
put in.

  “But let’s not forget,” Pandy continued. “This is not the first time we’ve encountered slavery and thought it wrong since the box was opened. My uncle Atlas enslaved men to do his job and hold up the heavens on Jbel Toubkal, but that effect there was broken when I put Laziness back in the box.”

  “But we never put this particular lesser evil back in,” Alcie said.

  “Hera might have fashioned this lesser evil …,” Pandy began.

  “Or, specifically, our new perspective on it,” Iole said.

  “… right. She might have taken whatever ripples were sent out when my uncle’s slaves were freed and created this.”

  “Yeah,” Alcie said, looking around at the sea of souls. ’Cause this is, like, out of control.”

  “So if this actually is a lesser evil and not just Zeus’s eagle out for a nice spin in the underworld, we need to be on the lookout for anything odd or difficult when we try to capture it, okay?” Pandy said as everyone wrapped their hands around the chain. “Ready? PULL!”

  The two results of that mighty pull happened almost simultaneously. The first was that, since Homer was behind everyone else on the very end of the chain, the strength of his tug sent Pandy, Alcie, and Iole tumbling to the floor with Iole’s robes covering Persephone’s face. The second was that the eagle, jolted out of its slow-circling stupor, gave a piercing shriek and dove like an arrow toward the the sea of spirits. As it neared, it opened its talons as wide as it could with the shackle still binding them together and lifted a hapless spirit into the air. With one peck the eagle tore out the man’s gray, transparent liver and gobbled it down. Tossing the spirit back into the pile, it rose high into the air above the room, the ceiling of which was still too far up to discern.

  “You mean odd like that?” Alcie asked.

  “Okay,” Persephone said, muffled until Iole pulled her robes off. “This is completely my fault. I forgot to tell you that while Hera was chaining everyone up, she used to tug on the chain to let the bird know when it could eat. I can’t even begin to tell you how many shades out there are liver-less. Guess all of you combined have the strength of the Queen of Heaven. I heard you hatching your plan and knew there was something you needed to know; I just couldn’t remember. But now you know!”