Pandora Gets Jealous

by Carolyn Hennesy

  "Because," said her brother, moving deeper into the mountain, "no one ever uses Hades' apartments, especially when he's not here, so this is the last place Hera will think to look."

  None of the immortals ever wanted to linger in Hades' suite. The Lord of the Underworld demanded no windows and very little light, so his rooms were sunk into the heart of Mount Olympus. One wall was made from the skulls of cowards who'd fled the battlefield; the mortar holding them together was mixed with bone marrow. Another wall looked perfectly normal, but if it was touched in any way, it sounded the scream of a million souls in torment. Yet another wall was simply a cascade of red acid. Privacy curtains were made of long strands of the back molars of murderers all strung together. Scattered about were strange and terrifying artifacts Hades had collected over the centuries as God of the Dead: dinosaur bones, glass jars of round Etruscan blood beads, pots of smoke, and floor rugs made of human hairs. And Hades never, ever permitted anyone into his sleeping chamber. Because that's where the real horror was: his private collection of clown frescoes and pressed-flower scrapbooks.

  "What if she discovers us?" asked Artemis.

  "Aphrodite and Dionysus have it all worked out," Hermes continued, walking swiftly through a gloomy sitting room. "Ares is standing guard, and if he sees or hears anything, we all switch to plan beta."

  Before Artemis could ask what, exactly, plan beta was, they arrived at a small silver door. Hermes knocked twice and then twice again. The door opened a crack and Artemis could just make out Ares' yellow eyes before he swung wide the door and almost yanked them into the room.

  Around a low table lit only by a single candle sat Aphrodite, Apollo, Athena, Poseidon, Dionysus, Demeter, and Hephaestus. Eros was asleep on a cushioned couch in the corner.

  "Where's Uncle Hades?" Artemis asked, sitting down and laying her hunting bow beside her chair.

  "Oh, please," said Poseidon, adjusting the several large wet strips of cotton keeping his tail moist. "My brother couldn't care less about this whole mess. He deals with grief and sorrows by the cartload every day in the underworld. You think this bothers him? He's amused, actually. Told me so."

  "That's sick," said Aphrodite.

  "That's Hades," said Athena.

  "By the way, where's Zeus?" asked Demeter.

  "I told him there was a group of gorgeous young things skinny-dipping off of the islands of Delos, so he turned himself into a shark and went for a swim," said Hermes.

  Ares piped up, "And when he gets there and no one is skinny-dipping, smarty?"

  "Oh, they're there, all right. A few friends owed me some favors, so I'm having them splash about for a bit."

  The gods stared at Hermes in disbelief.

  "Hey!" he said. "I told him the truth . . . they're things. Tails, scales, fins, you name it."

  "And I'm keeping the water churning, so Zeus won't be able to make anything out for quite a while," offered Poseidon, squeezing a sea sponge over his head.

  "What about 'she who must be feared'?" said He­phaestus.

  "I sorta let the same info slip to Hera," said Hermes.

  " 'Zeus is leering at pretty young things . . . again.' She took off like a vulture, slow moving but deadly."

  "Okay, let's get to it," said Apollo. "Who's going to help Pandora with what? Hephaestus, you've got Jealousy, right?"

  "Right," Hephaestus said, shifting his sooty little body in his chair. "What I planned to do was—"

  "Wait just a tick or two on the sundial, if you please," said Demeter. "Before Artemis and Hermes came in, I believe I was asking why Hera hates Pandora so much and what she thinks she is going to gain by sending this poor little maiden all over creation on a wild plague chase. So will somebody, in plain Greek, please explain it to me?"

  "Okay, okay . . . very quickly, here's the deal," said Apollo. "Three years ago, both Pandora and Hera's great-granddaughter, Ariadne of Calydon, were involved in Aphrodite's Girl/Goddess Guides. Different chapters, but the same organization."

  "Makes me sorry I ever started the whole thing," said Aphrodite quietly.

  "Not your fault, sister," said Apollo. "So the group needed to raise funds for . . . whatever, and they decided to sell sacks of oatie cakes. The humans in charge thought, hey, why not make a little contest out of it? The girl who sold the most sacks won . . . what was it again, Aphrodite?"

  "A makeover with me," she said, hanging her head.

  "A makeover?" slurred Dionysus. "They're children!"

  "Anyway," Apollo said, "wherever they could—at the markets, alongside the chariot roads, in front of the temples, door to door, you name it—the girls were there, hawking the cakes. Now, because Ariadne is Hera's great-granddaughter, she was selling hundreds of sacks. Hera was conning all of the immortals into buying oxcarts full of the things!"

  "Honeyed oatie cakes, lemon oatie cakes, oatie cakes with dried grapes!" moaned Athena, she and her owl both rolling their eyes.

  "I've still got sacks full in my storage rooms," said Artemis. "I give them to my temple priestesses to hand out to people who pray really hard . . . or not."

  "I use them as fish food," said Poseidon.

  "Kindling," said Hephaestus. "They burn great on the forge."

  "I've sent a million sacks down to Egypt," said Dionysus. "They ran out of bricks for the Pyramids."

  "Although, and I think we'll all agree," Aphrodite chimed in, "when it's hot, there's nothing better than a carob-covered mint oatie cake right off an ice block . . ."

  "So Ariadne was in the lead for a long time," Apollo continued. "But Pandora is Prometheus's daughter and, let's face it, he basically saved the human race. When people found out that his kid wanted a few drachmas for a sack or two, the orders couldn't be filled fast enough. So at the last moment, Pandora ends up winning and Hera's great-granddaughter lost."

  "And Pandora got the makeover?" asked Dionysus.

  "Pandora's mother said no," Aphrodite replied. "She wanted to test the products on herself first and see what was fit for her daughter. Pandora was only ten years old then and oh, she was so excited. She only wanted to be like her mother. My heart just broke. I wanted to turn Sybilline into a boar, but Zeus told me not to interfere."

  "And that's the story," said Apollo.

  There was a long silence.

  "You have got to be kidding me, right? This is a joke!" Demeter said at length. "Hera's still angry because her great-granddaughter lost?"

  "Well, Ariadne could use a makeover," Aphrodite muttered.

  "You should have seen Hera," said Hephaestus. "She wanted to level Prometheus's house."

  "Athens. She wanted to destroy Athens," said Athena.

  "I know Hera is petty, mean-spirited, envious, nasty, and thoughtless, but come on," said Demeter.

  "She's never forgiven Pandora," said Apollo. "So now that she's opened the box, this is a chance not only to get even, but to punish and probably kill her as well."

  "Then why give her the map?" asked Demeter, twirling her wheat-grass hair. "Is it fake?"

  "No," said Athena. "I know Zeus saw it before Hera wrapped it up, so she couldn't completely toy with Pandora. It shows all the locations of the plagues, but it is very difficult to decipher. Look, we know that Pandora's only got a limited amount of time. She has find everything within six moons."

  There was another long pause.

  "What happens, again . . . if it goes beyond that?" asked Dionysus, unusually quiet.

  "Yeah, what happens if she doesn't succeed?" asked Artemis.

  "Evil stays put. Everything that's still out of the box is permanent. No getting it back. Done. Finished," breathed Ares out of his helmet mouth hole. "Kinda helps my business ..."

  Everyone looked at him.

  "Just saying," he said.

  "It's much more than that now," Aphrodite spoke up. "Hera has become the embodiment of everything in that box. She's jealous, greedy, vain . . . you name it! What will happen is this: she'll wipe out mankind."

  "W
hat?" gasped Artemis.

  "She will. Ultimately," Aphrodite continued. "If evil becomes permanent, she will harness each plague to her own selfish purposes and with that much power, fueled by all that hatred, she will be able to destroy everything in her path. Men first, as punishment for Zeus never being faithful. Women next, because any woman is a threat. Mankind, as it is, will cease to exist."

  "Um . . . hang on just a moment, if you please," said Dionysus. "If mankind is gone . . . then who . . . who . . . ?"

  "Go ahead, Uncle. Say it," said Apollo.

  "Who will believe in . . . us?" Dionysus said slowly.

  No one spoke.

  Hermes cleared his throat. "If Pandora fails," he said, "then mankind will be eradicated from the face of the earth. We will become shadows . . . and simply fade away."

  "Great Gods . . . ," said Hephaestus, after a pause.

  "No. We won't be. If we're lucky, Hera will just chain our spirits in Tartarus to keep us out of the way," said Hermes.

  "That's if we're lucky. My guess is, she'll create a whole new species of beings. Devoted to her . . . made in her image. But she'll destroy first the things she hates the most," said Poseidon.

  "Will she start with herself?" asked Ares.

  "Could Zeus do anything?" asked Dionysus, now quite sober.

  "With that much evil in her hands, even Zeus, more powerful than all of us together, will be like a deer in the jaws of a lion," Apollo said.

  Silence fell again as each of the gods weighed the significance of Apollo's words.

  "Pandora must be helped whenever and wherever possible," said Hermes.

  "But subtly," said Athena.

  "And that's where we come in," said Ares, punching one fist into the other.

  "Right," said Apollo. "Each of us gives her a little assistance on the sly when she's going after whatever we originally put in the box. So, where were we? Jealousy? Hephaestus, whatcha got?"

  "Okay. Well, since Jealousy . . . Envy . . . Covetousness . . . call it what you will, was my contribution, and I think we all know why"—he paused to stare straight at Aphrodite and Ares—"I forged a small net made of a gold-adamant alloy. It's absolutely unbreakable and inescapable. With this she'll be able to capture everything."

  "Excellent," said Apollo. "Where's she off to first? Hermes?"

  "Delphi."

  "Oh, that's just great. The site of my temple and my oracle. Well, I can't get involved there. Hera will be on the lookout and she'll run to tell Zeus. So I have to hang back. But I can help with Vanity, when she gets to it."

  "I'm still surprised that something you think is so normal about yourself is the thing you chose to curse mankind," giggled Aphrodite.

  "Don't make me come across this table," said Apollo.

  "My twin brother and I went in on Vanity together, Aphrodite, so if you're going to insult him . . . ," said Artemis, reaching for her great bow.

  "Children, children, please," said Athena. "Greed was mine, so I have that one."

  One by one the gods claimed their respective evils: Aphrodite would help with Lust, Dionysus with Laziness, and Ares with Rage. Demeter had put in a few lesser evils like depression, acne, migraines, loneliness, excessive homework, "cooties," taking things for granted, lovers' disinterest, and a piggish desire for cherry-vanilla ice cream.

  "You keep telling us what ice cream is; however, I don't get the concept," said Athena.

  "Just an idea; still working on it," Demeter replied.

  "Uncle Poseidon . . . what did you put in?" asked Hermes.

  "Don't you remember? I had just sunk those ungrateful, arrogant Atlantians that day and I was all soggy, so I kept flooding the box. All the red, yellow, and black smoke kept fizzling out. Besides, you kids had everything pretty much covered. Don't worry though, I'll help where I can."

  "That just leaves the big one," said Apollo. "Fear."

  "And that was Hera's," said Ares.

  Another long silence.

  "Bright ideas, anyone? I'm open to bright ideas," said Apollo.

  "Look, we've got it worked out for at least a few weeks, right?" said Dionysus. "Let's see where we are when she gets to it. No stress, okay? Who wants wine?"

  Suddenly Ares went rigid.

  "Quiet!" he commanded.

  In the hush, no one even breathed.

  From somewhere in Hades' apartments came the sound of footsteps; heavy, but sporadic, as if a very large body were trying to tiptoe around a room.

  Instantly, Aphrodite waved her hand and a large banner appeared overhead that read "Happy Birthday, Hera!" and several samples of cakes materialized on the table.

  Dionysus snapped his fingers and dozens of small casks of wine appeared next to the cakes and the gods found themselves each with a full goblet.

  Hephaestus grabbed the golden net, quickly hiding it in the folds of his grimy toga as Aphrodite began speaking in an overly loud voice.

  "This banner is lovely. Of course, on the night of the party, it'll be large enough to cover the entire great hall."

  Ares nodded, then picked up a goblet just as the door flew open and Hera, her mouth clenched and her brows knit into a scowl, filled the doorway.

  "Aha! The halls are empty and you all are plotting . . . and . . . planning . . . sending me away . . . wild nymph chase . . ."

  Then her jaw dropped.

  "Huh?"

  The gods gave a tremendous jump as if they had been engrossed, and looked at Hera with their best disappointed faces.

  ". . . it's last year's vintage from Corinth. It's woodsy and fruity. You can really taste the oak and blackberries. It's perfect for her birthday," Dionysus said.

  "What?" gaped Hera.

  "Oh! You! Here! Well, that's just terrific," said Aphrodite, starting to cry. "Party ruined, thank you so much! And after all the trouble we've gone through."

  "Who couldn't keep a secret, that's what I want to know? Who talked?" asked Apollo, looking around.

  "Is this for me?" asked Hera sweetly.

  "Oh, I can't bear it. It was going to be the loveliest party. I. . . just. . . can't. . . bear . . . " And with that, Aphrodite ran sobbing from the room.

  "I'll go after her. Poor thing, her heart's broken, and you know how rare that is for her!" said Athena, rising.

  "I'll come with you," said Demeter, dashing out the door.

  "Me too!" said Artemis.

  "She probably needs me right about now," said Ares.

  "Maybe she needs her husband, did you ever think of that, you bloodthirsty mongrel?" said Hephaestus, reaching the doorway with Ares, the two gods trying to squeeze through at the same time.

  "Well, I'll just toss these cake samples if we're not going to use them," said Hermes.

  "What do you mean, you're not going to use them?" screeched Hera. "All right, so I spoiled the surprise . . . but that doesn't mean we can't have a party, right?"

  "You'll have to talk to Aphrodite 'bout that," said Hermes, vanishing with the cakes.

  "Apollo?" Hera clutched at his golden breastplate. "Apollo, we can still have a party, right? When was it going to be? I'll act surprised, I promise. I will!"

  "Sorry, Hera . . . the fun just seems to have gone out of it now."

  Apollo hung his head low and sighed very, very deeply. He was about to walk out of the room when he noticed Dionysus downing the third of several small goblets of wine. Apollo picked him up by the neck of his toga and led him through the door.

  "Come, Uncle," said Apollo, "it's time we got you to bed."

  "Sounds good. Let me just get my goblet. . ."

  "No. No more for you," said Apollo, leading Dionysus down the dark hallway. "Good night, Hera. Maybe next year. Sleep well."

  And they were gone, leaving Hera alone with a banner and several casks of wine.

  "I'd act surprised!" she called after them. "I would!"

  She sat down at the low table.

  "I really would."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Starting
Qut

  Pandy awoke just as Apollo dragged the sun free of the horizon line and a light wind wafted over the city.

  She came downstairs, dressed in her clean, white, "good company" toga and wearing her mother's silver girdle, her hair swept back in the tortoiseshell clip. Dido was at her heels and she carried the wolfskin diary under her arm. She felt ages older than when she had gone to sleep and was trying her best to manage a big, happy smile.

  Sabina was puttering at the drainage counter while her father and Xander waited for her at the table.

  "Good morning, Dad. Good morning, Sabina."

  "Good morning, daughter," answered Prometheus.

  "Pandeee!" squealed Xander.

  "Hi, cutie," she said, cupping his little face and rubbing her nose against his, which caused him to break into peals of laughter.

  "This is for you," said Sabina setting down a plate of roasted chicken, boiled eggs, oatie cakes, and honey.

  "Eggs . . . my favorite. Thank you, Sabina."

  "They'll give you a good start, if nothing else Sabina replied, her voice trailing off. Pandy looked up as Sabina turned back toward the food cupboards and noticed a single tear falling down the old woman's cheek.

  "Thank you, Sabina," said Prometheus.

  There was a charged silence as Pandy ate her morning meal.

  "Dad, you're staring at me," she finally said.

  "Can you blame me? Besides, you're beginning to look like your mother."

  "Puh-leeze."

  "You'll probably be her mirror image when you get back," said her father.

  "If I get back, you mean."

  "Don't speak like that!" said Prometheus with such force both Xander and Pandy jumped. Xander was on the verge of tears until his father relaxed his frown and reached out for Pandy.

  Pandy finished her morning meal with one hand; with the other, she clung tight to her father.

  Finally Prometheus drew the leather carrying pouch across the table and pulled out the conch shell.

  "This is the most important thing you'll be carrying," he said, lowering his head, speaking very softly. Pandy stared into his face.

  "This is a gift from . . . someone. I have the mate in my room. With this, you and I will be able to talk to each other, Pandora. Wherever you are."