A single tear coursed down Hera’s cheek, soaking into her ruby-red gag.
“I’m sending you away, lambie-kins. Far, far away. Another place and another time. As I said, I’ve looked into the future, roughly two thousand years, and found the perfect spot for you. The country is called the United States of America. One state goes by the name of Nevada. There’s a little town in the middle of its wide desert: Las Vegas. It is, according to all reports, the biggest little city in the world, whatever that actually means. Legal gambling, endless feasts big enough for even the Roman appetite, singers, dancers, and circus performers. It’s a real swingin’ place. They have enormous inns there called ‘hotels’ and one in particular is modeled after … hey, where’s Caesar? Is Julius Caesar in the hall? I know I saw him earlier.”
“Here, mighty Zeus,” Caesar said, waving his laurel wreath above his head.
“Well, Jules, my boy, you’ll be happy to know that you made quite the impression on world history. There’s an enormous inn with your name on it—Caesar’s Palace—right in the middle of what’s called the Strip. Guess how many rooms for guests? Guess? You never will. Are you ready for this—nearly four thousand!”
A gasp went up from the crowd.
“I KNOW!” said Zeus. “And Hera, you get to clean them!”
Hera’s eyes went wide.
“You will be placed as a servant on the ‘housekeeping’ staff. For your labor you will be given a weekly payment and with that you’ll eat, dress, and keep a roof over your head. Or not. In short, honey-pie, you’re going to work. You, too, will be stripped of all your immortal powers, except for the fact that you’ll never, ever, ever die. And, from what I understand, neither will Las Vegas. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you; Jupiter has arranged the same fate for Juno and Ceres, so who knows, you gals might run into one another at the Palace. You can talk about old times and how you all messed up so baaaaaddddd! All I have to say is bye-bye, baby, bye-bye.”
Zeus turned to the stunned crowd.
“And so, since we have much celebrating still ahead of us, let us now raise our hands in a final farewell to a great gal. Not so much in personality but in girth …”
Before everyone’s eyes, Hera slowly started to disappear; with every word from Zeus, she became more and more transparent. Zeus and Pandora were the only ones really waving good-bye; everyone else was riveted.
“We had some good times, me and this little chicklet. And We’ll try to remember her only with fondness, for the goddess she used to be. A long, long time ago….”
Pandy could now see the back walls of the hall through Hera.
“And We’ll try to keep the poets and bards from speaking of her too harshly. Operative word being ‘try.’ Oh, certainly, We’ll miss her for a little while, but soon We’ll forget she was …
Hera was almost completely gone; only her face was still visible.
“… ever …”
Her eyes leveled at Zeus for a moment, then began to dart about the hall.
“… even …”
With one last terrified blink, Hera disappeared completely.
“… here.”
The realization that Hera was no longer a threat to her or anyone caused Pandy to involuntarily collapse. Zeus caught her with his little finger and bent down to her ear.
“All gone, my dear,” he whispered. “All gone.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
On the Terrace
Pandy, Alcie, Iole, Homer, Douban, and Crispus stood in a line at the terrace railing. Homer, Douban, and Crispus had really wanted to stand by their girls, but each had determined privately that distance and prudence was the best course. After all, there was a lot of waiting left to do and each youth knew he’d better get used to it.
Crispus had explained his story. That even though he was supposed to be six years old at present, he’d already lost years when he’d met Iole. After the group had left Rome, before Hermes had a chance to put everything back into the past, Crispus had personally prayed to Zeus and Jupiter, pouring his heart out on the altar of Jupiter’s temple. Both gods had appeared to him. After a very short conversation in which Crispus had managed to convince both supreme rulers that he knew exactly what he was asking, they granted his wish and took him back in time ten years, completely preserving his memory of all his adventures with Iole and the others, then added back ten years to his age, making him as Iole knew him: sixteen.
After digesting this tale, no one was really saying much of anything. It was as if, by talking about their adventures in detail, they would all either collapse with exhaustion or that the moment of celebration would reveal itself to be a mirage and the great palace would fizzle away into the clouds.
“Immortals at two on the sundial,” Alcie said.
Prometheus and Hermes were walking toward them.
“Hi, everyone,” Prometheus said. “Alcie, your mother and father can really tear up the dance floor. Even with his ivory toes, your dad’s terrific. And Iole, your parents are heading home but they wanted me to tell you that Crispy here …”
“Crispus,” said the youth. “Crispus, sir.”
“Crispus may stay in your stables for one night when you two return, but then it’s off to the quarry with him—you—Crispus. I think your dad said something, Iole, about finding him a job with the press, inscribing the daily news. It was either that or construction. He’ll tell you, I’m sure.”
Then Prometheus turned to Pandy, very obviously not looking at Douban.
“Listen, honey, I’m going to take your mother back to Athens on the next Morpheus-Express. She’s been trying to dance, but she keeps falling down; she’s just not used to her legs yet. And apparently all the children are having such a good time in the toddler room, we’re going to let Sabina bring your little brother down later, after she finishes talking with her sisters. Give your mom and me a little time to chat about … things. So … what time can we expect you?”
Pandy hid her smile as best she could.
“We’re heading back soon, Dad. We’ll all probably be right behind you. I want to show my wolfskin diary the view from the terrace and I want to say good-bye to everybody. And when we get back to the city, I want to help Douban find a place to live, even if it’s temporary—just for the night. Until he can find someplace really groovy.”
“Ah,” Prometheus said. “So you’re going to be staying in Athens, then?”
“Sheesh, Dad.”
“There are those who need healing everywhere, sir,” the young man replied, extending his hand. “And Athens is a city with many wonderful things to recommend it. I hope this meets with your approval.”
Prometheus smiled wide and shook Douban’s hand, then his face became very serious.
“It does. It will meet with more of my approval in three or four years, but yes, it does. Okay, then … I’ll just see you later, then.”
“Bye, Dad,” Pandy said.
“See you at home.”
“Bye, Dad.”
“Bye, Dad,” said Hermes.
Prometheus shot Hermes a look, then waved his hand in resignation and farewell.
“Hello,” Hermes said to Pandy.
“Hello.” She smiled.
“Still mad at me?”
“For what? Oh, you mean for omitting the fact that you’d taken us ten years into the future when we were in Rome and my father didn’t know what had happened to me and was sick to the point of being senseless, which caused me so much stress that I may have already started getting gray hair? That?”
“Yes, that.”
“Completely forgotten,” she said.
Then she threw her arms around the god and hugged him as tightly as she could.
“And it wouldn’t matter anyway,” she mumbled against the soft silver fabric of his toga. “I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for you. I’ll never, ever be able to thank you for everything that you did, no matter how many sacrifices I make to you.”
“What about me?�
� came a voice at her side.
“Or you,” Pandy said, hugging Athena. “Of course you.”
“Me too?”
Pandy turned to wrap her arms as far as they would go around Aphrodite, feeling the bliss that came whenever Aphrodite spoke. Then she looked around; they were all there. Ares, Artemis, Apollo, Dionysus, Poseidon in his traveling tank, Hephaestus, and Hades. As Pandy hugged each of them in turn, as best she could, Alcie, Iole, and Homer began their own rounds of hugging, cheek kissing, and hand shaking. Douban and Crispus stood a little off to the side, not wanting to get in the way.
“Wait!” came a shout and a flurry of pink and fuchsia. “I want in on this fun!”
Persephone tore across the terrace and caught Pandy up in such a hug, Pandy thought her eyes might pop from their sockets. Then Pandy stood apart and cleared her throat.
“I want you all to know that, while I still respect, honor, and fear each of you …”
“Oh, pshawwww,” said Hermes.
“Quiet,” Athena chided him.
“I also love each of you—more than you’ll ever know.”
“That goes double,” said Alcie.
“And me,” Iole said.
“And me,” Homer finished.
“We know,” said Persephone. “Borrowing from that nice exchange you have with your dad: us you more, dear ones.”
“I know!” Pandy laughed.
“I KNOW!” Persephone said, hugging her again.
“So,” Pandy began, sniffling slightly. “Will I—we—see you again? This isn’t really good-bye, is it? I mean, are we going to have to go through high priestesses and stuff to get to talk to you?”
“Yes,” said Hades.
“Buster!” Persephone yelped, playfully hitting his arm.
“Do you really think we’d just let you go like that?” asked Hermes. “Like you’re so grown up now you won’t need us? Puh-leeze. We’ll be around. Just whistle.”
“Okay, Zeus is about to cut the ‘Happy Trails To Hera’ ambrosia cake,” said Apollo, “and I’m not missing out on a corner piece. Who’s with me?”
The immortals sped to the doorway so fast, several got stuck trying to squeeze through at the same time.
“Coming?” called Hermes.
“Be there in a moment,” Pandy answered, to which Hermes gave her a huge grin.
In less than the blink of an eye, the terrace was clear and quiet and everyone turned back to the majestic view. Pandy stood at one end, only slightly apart from the rest, feeling connected and interdependent to those at her side, yet very much her own person at the same time. A light breeze came up off the rocky peaks as the six friends gazed out at the clouds in silence.
“You know,” said Homer, addressing Crispus and Douban, “if the three of us shared a couple of rooms, we could save a few drachmas.”
“And keep an eye on our girls,” said Douban.
“Your girls?” asked Pandy, mock indignant. “Keep an eye on?”
“As if,” Alcie grinned.
“Seriously,” said Iole.
“One can hope,” Douban responded.
“I’m in,” said Crispus.
“Then it’s a go,” Homer said, as silence settled back onto the terrace.
A long silence.
“Glad you took the box to school?” Alcie asked finally.
“Yes,” Pandy admitted after several beats.
There was another interminable pause.
“Would you do it again?” asked Iole.
After a wait that made everyone think Pandy might have gone to sleep, she turned and looked down the line at the best friends anyone could ever have.
“Well, I’ll tell you …”
Epilogue … The First
“And that covers bed-making basics, ladies. Most of you did splendidly.”
The short, thin man with a ferret face glared for the twentieth time in four days at two rather large ladies in the back of the hot, muggy training room. One of the women raised her hand.
“Oh, heavens. What is it now … which one are you?”
“I’m June,” she said, then she pointed to the other woman, who could easily have been her twin, smacking a large wad of chewing gum between her lips. “She’s Harriet.”
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” said Harriet casually.
“What is it, June?”
“I’d just like to put in my request, once again, for a new …”
“And for the millionth time,” said the man, “no, you cannot have a new partner. You’ve all been paired up expressly to complement each other’s skills. Get to know your partner and like ’er. That’s the way it’s going to stay.”
“‘That’s the way it’s going to staaaay,’” June mimicked under her breath.
“Shut up,” said Harriet.
“You shut up,” hissed June.
“Both of you, be quiet,” said the man, his pinched nostrils flaring and beady eyes narrowing. “Now, ladies, if you’ll move down the hall to our toilet demonstration room, Inga here—who has been with Caesar’s for over twenty-seven years—will show you how to get the bowl bright. Everyone follow Inga. That’s right, ladies. Fourth room on your right. Keep the chatter to a minimum, please. Thank you. There you go …”
Then the smarmy little man stretched his arm across the door just as Harriet and June were about to exit.
“And exactly where do you think you’re going?”
“Gonna go get a bowl bright,” said Harriet drolly.
“Oh, are you? Are you really … ‘Sandtrap’?”
“What?” asked June. “What sandtrap?”
“Oh, no,” whispered Harriet.
June and Harriet each took a step back as the man’s ferret face began to melt and shift. The next moment, standing between them and the hallway, was the official Hera had dealt with at the Bureau of Visiting Deities in Persia.
“Remember me, you bright girl? And the little nickname we had for you? Your husbands, both of them, asked me to come and supervise your employment because they heard about how well you and I got on so long ago, Harriet. Never got around to introducing myself at the Bureau, did I? I guess that’s because you left so fast after you killed those monkeys. Name’s Mirrikh. Now, I don’t really expect a dullard such as yourself—make that two dullards—to be able to pronounce it; I just think you two might like to know what it means. Loosely translated, it means death, slaughter, that type of thing. For you two brain trusts, however, it means I’m gonna be on you both like a cheap suit …”
“But I didn’t really do that much!” June wailed. “I certainly never did most of the things she did! I mean I … I … I didn’t kill those monkeys! I don’t really deserve to be here. I actually liked Pandora!”
“You venomous little traitor!” screamed Harriet. “It was fine letting me do all the work, roaming all over the known world, carrying out the plans, wasn’t it? And then you were just gonna come in and share the power, weren’t you?”
“Shaddup!” Mirrikh exploded. “All you need to know is that the rest of eternity is gonna be one big toilet bowl for the both of you. You’re gonna be up to your big necks in scrubbers and cleanser till the end of time!”
But June had grabbed a pillow from the newly made demonstration bed and began to swing it at Harriet like she was brandishing a club.
“Hey, are you two listening to me!”
“I’m going to scrub you, is what I’m going to do!” June cried, landing a blow to Harriet’s head just as Harriet picked up another pillow. “I’m going to spend eternity smashing you to a pulp!”
“We’ll see who pulverizes who, you little snake!” Harriet bellowed, hitting June in the stomach and sending a plume of goose feathers spurting from the pillow. “I’m going to make your life so miserable you’ll wish you’d never been formed!”
Mirrikh folded his arms and, with a smile, stepped out into the hallway, locking the door behind him. With a blink, he soundproofed the room so that the hallway w
as silent to those passing by.
“We’ll leave them right there for a few days. Give or take. And then, it’s toilet time!”
Epilogue … The Second
The pretty naiad was too distracted, thinking about Apollo …
“He’s soooooo dreamy!”
… and grumbling to herself about actually having to babysit the immortal infants and toddlers instead of getting to participate in the festivities to have noticed that one especially speedy young man had crawled out of the room.
As Orpheus and his orchestra were playing their smash hit “Gimme Goat” for the third time and dancing had erupted in the great hall, Xander, of the great house of Prometheus, was wandering hallways, bustling in and out of anterooms and sleeping chambers. He raised himself to stand at Aphrodite’s dressing table, pulling down a pot of lavender lip paste on top of his head—which he promptly ate. He crawled underneath Tyro’s perch in Athena’s rooms, covering himself in owl droppings—which he promptly ate. He found Artemis’s not-well-hidden-at-all stash of ginger-orange oatie cakes—which he promptly ate.
Sated, he was crawling back toward the sounds of “big people,” when a glint in a storage room caught his two-and-a-half-year-old attention. It took him a few moments to knock the object off the table and onto the floor. It was a plain brown wooden box, with a shiny lock and a really shiny hairpin keeping it closed.
Wiggle, wiggle.
It was fun. He could play with the box all day.
Maybe he could even get it open.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to the lovely Samantha Fabisch for being the last first reader and for declaring the manuscript “perfect!” Thanks to my brother Scott Hennesy for reading them all, Zac Hug for being a wise taskmaster, Ron Davis for the brilliant line, Denise Isabella for her marvelous insight, and Ruth Percival for pushing in other directions. Thanks to Erika Carle for all she’s done for the past four years. Thanks to Dan Mailley and Trish Alaskey for keeping me sane and laughing and being the best of the best. Thanks also to Michelle Nagler and Brett Wright for their sublime edits/notes/margin LOLs. Special thanks and love to my husband, Donald, who stayed up late and read and read and read. As always, deepest gratitude and love to Sara Schedeen … for pretty much everything.
Pandora Gets Frightened Page 21