Pandora Gets Jealous

by Carolyn Hennesy

  She also discovered, in listening to hundreds of supplicants, that letting evil loose upon the world didn't simply mean the tiny part of the world that she knew. It meant the entire world—all of it. People had traveled from countries and lands she'd only read about: Samaria, Decapolis, China, Mauretania, and Germania Magna. Some supplicants had journeyed thousands of miles, forsaking their own temples and places of worship because they had been destroyed or looted. Pandy learned of small fights that had become wars, family members turning upon each other, atrocities done to women, children, and the elderly. A Chinese man had his rice fields burned by a rival grower . . . the man's best friend. Two sisters from Palestine had seriously hurt each other, fighting over which one actually owned a small cat. But what Pandy heard most of all, and why most of these people had come to the Temple of Apollo, the healing god, were stories of sickness. Sickness of body to be sure, but now there was such sickness of mind and soul. People were being driven mad by evil thoughts. Just when Pandy thought she couldn't feel any worse about what she'd done, she discovered she was wrong, and listening to many of the tales, she found herself adding to her vial of tears.

  On the morning of their fourth day in Delphi, as the acolytes were busy preparing a farewell feast, causing much commotion around the food cupboards and drainage counter, Pandy found a quiet spot upon a long sofa among a pile of Tereus's toys. She unwrapped the map, placed fresh water into the blue bowl, and uncorked her vial of tears, watching intently as the rings rotated back and forth and finally aligned a set of strange pictures. She was immediately struck by one change. When she'd first unwrapped the map with her father, the number on the middle ring had been 180. Now it was 166.

  Ino joined her briefly, as she passed through the room on her way to relieve Callisto at the altar.

  "Perhaps it's the number of kilometers you've traveled? No, Athens isn't that far, is it? Perhaps it's . . . it's . . . oh, I'm sorry, Pandora, I'm just no good at guessing games."

  "Thanks anyway, Ino," Pandy said.

  She turned her focus to the other rings and passed the next hour poring over the brightly lit blue symbols.

  Callisto was now spending her free time playing with Tereus and Althea, but after her shift that day, both Tereus and Althea were napping, so she sat down with Pandy on the sofa.

  "Any luck?" she asked.

  "Well, I think . . . maybe this is . . . or this thingie here might be . . . No. Nothing," Pandy said dejectedly.

  "Oh," said Callisto, peering at the symbols. "Well, the only thing I can tell you is that's Egyptian."

  "Huh! Really? How do you know?" Pandy cried, feeling a touch of optimism.

  "I had to learn just a little of it. This temple gets so many acolyte applications from all parts of the known world; it helps to be able to read just a smattering of Phoenician, Latin, Sanskrit, and Egyptian. Ankhele?" Callisto called over her shoulder. "Would you come here for a moment?"

  A young acolyte left the drainage counter, where she'd been soaking apples in lemon juice and honey. She bowed her head, not looking at Callisto.

  "Yes, Priestess?" she said softly.

  Pandy heard an exquisite accent in her gentle voice and looked up into eyes that were even browner than her own.

  "Ankhele, can you tell us what this says?" asked Cal­listo, pointing to the symbols.

  "Of course, Priestess." Ankhele bent down over the bowl.

  "This says 'Alexandria.'"

  "Do you know what this says?" asked Pandy, referring to the large symbol on the bottom ring.

  "Yes, but it's strange . . . ," said Ankhele, her voice trailing off.

  "What is it?" asked Pandy, holding her breath.

  "It says 'Vanity'"

  "Thank you, Ankhele," said Callisto after a moment. "Please return to your preparations."

  "Of course, Priestess."

  "Alexandria? That's in Egypt!" Pandy said. "Well, I guess walking is out of the question. Alcie will be happy about that."

  "I'm sure," Callisto replied. "You'll take the ship from Crisa, naturally"

  "Oh . . . um . . . naturally. Which way is that again?"

  Smiling, Callisto pointed back over her shoulder, just as Prometheus had done.

  "That way . . . and sort of that way."

  "Oh, right," said Pandy.

  "We'll draw you a map," said Callisto with a laugh. "But not to worry; the distance is much shorter than from Athens to Delphi. Two days of walking at most. Perhaps we can get a chariot to take you partway, hmm?"

  "Thank you, Callisto."

  "No, Pandora . . . thank you," she said, rising and kissing Pandy lightly on her cheek. Pandora had a brief flash of her mother, almost kissing her cheek or not quite kissing the top of her head. Even knowing that Cal­listo had blindly wanted to kill her only a short time earlier, she had received more affection from her in the last three days than she'd felt from her mother in . . . she couldn't remember how long. She turned her face away and, hanging her head, wept silently into her robes.

  That night, the altar room of the temple was closed for several hours as the high priestesses, Pandy, Iole, Al­cie, and members of the Council of City Elders feasted on roast lamb, goat, and beef, mounds of rice with currants and walnuts, fresh baked flatbread smothered with olive oil and basil leaves, bowls of fruit drizzled with honey and sweet wine, cheese, hummus, boiled eggs, and apricot cakes topped with cream.

  As Pandy stuffed herself, she stared up at the tall columns, remembering being hunted by Harpies only days before. Now she looked at the three high priestesses, so elegant and beautiful, so revered, and realized that she shared a bond of experience with these sacred women that couldn't be broken. How strange and wonderful, she thought; beginning to understand that everything in her world could and would change so quickly.

  lole's was the only sad face at the table as she picked up pieces of lamb and whispered, "Hector, I hope this isn't you," before chewing each bite.

  As acolytes were busy passing platters and goblets, one mistakenly handed Alcie a goblet full of a rich red liquid. Alcie, her mouth full of rice, took a swallow and immediately spat out everything, just missing a city elder.

  "Dried grapes! May Tartarus swallow you whole! Yuck!" she said. "What is this stuff?"

  Callisto held up Alcie's goblet and inhaled.

  "You don't want any, Alcestis?" she said, suppressing a smile.

  "Harps of Hades, no! Why?"

  "This is just our finest vintage of wine, that's all," she answered, as everyone broke into gales of laughter.

  "Oh," Alcie said, then Alcie giggled in spite of herself.

  After the feast, as they were returning to the living quarters, Pandy felt a small bit of papyrus slipped into her hand. She saw Ankhele quickly move away and begin clearing the long table.

  Late that night, as Alcie, Iole, and Dido slept peacefully nearby, Pandy unfolded the note by the light of a single lamp. In uneven writing she read:

  Blessed Pandora,

  May lsis and Osiris guide you safely to my homeland. Please forgive my letters, Greek is still new to me. My father is the tax collector (or the city of Alexandria, if you seek him out, please tell him that 1 have sent you. I'm certain he will help you in any way he can.

  Ankhele

  Refolding the note, she put it into her pouch, then reached down to the foot of her pallet and patted Dido's back. She snuggled into her pallet linens, trying to imagine what Egypt would look like, and gently drifted off.

  The following morning, the girls were awakened early so they could depart without too much notice. Though they were still full from the feast, they enjoyed a wonderful breakfast and their food pouches were filled to bursting with feast leftovers. Tereus had drawn pictures for each of them on three papyrus sheets, which they folded very carefully into their pouches. Nera wasn't quite at the end of her graveyard shift on the oracle, but she left it briefly to come say good-bye. There were tears and hugs, with promises to return to Delphi under better conditions and re
ciprocal vows to visit Athens on vacation. Then Pandy Alcie, Iole, and Dido walked along the corridor toward the altar, down the flight of stairs to the side hallway, and out into the main room of the temple. As they silently slipped past the great altar, Nera, just finishing her last prediction, raised her hands high into the air as if Apollo were truly moving the spirit within her, then she winked at the girls and gave a short, deliberate flick of her wrist in farewell.

  Outside, Ino, dressed in acolytes' robes and accompanied by Ankhele, led the girls past the long line already formed and across the main square. On the other side, a silver-haired man stood by a grand chariot with two stallions in the harness.

  "Pandora, this is Cadmus," said Ino, "and he has agreed to take you three by chariot as far as his home, which is only a day's walk from the port city of Crisa."

  Dido leapt up into the chariot and Cadmus helped Alcie and Iole into their places as Ino bent low to embrace Pandy.

  "All right, my dear," she whispered, "travel safely. Apollo is watching and his goodness spreads over you like the sun breaking through gray skies. Be well, dear one. And much success."

  She squeezed Pandy's hand as the chariot started to roll down the main road toward the city entrance. Pandy shot a quick glance at Ankhele and smiled. Ankhele nodded slightly in return. The three girls looked back as long as they could at Ino, waving until she was out of sight, hidden amongst the throng of people pushing and shoving and selling and trading and waiting in the long, long line.

  They traveled most of the day without stopping, enjoying the ride over the rugged countryside, especially since Alcie didn't have to walk, although eating their mid-meal of leftovers in a bouncing chariot caused most of the food to fall to the chariot bottom. The only one who really had a good meal was Dido. After midday Iole began to fret about the horses. Every few kilometers, she asked to "use the nearest bush," just to give the stallions a rest.

  Apollo was dragging the sun below the horizon, turning the sky several shades of violet, when Cadmus turned the chariot down a narrow, rutted lane. Soon, they stopped at a small but beautifully kept home where a woman with a gentle face waited at the gate in the outer wall. Cadmus explained his undertaking, and his wife, Urania, made the girls welcome. Following a light supper, the three were shown to a small room with several hastily made sleeping pallets and bedded down for the night.

  Several hours after midnight, however, Pandy was awakened by a peacock scream directly below their window. She bolted upright, breathing heavily, not sure at first of where she was. There was another scream, even closer. Iole sat up, looking very frightened.

  "Where's Alcie?" Pandy whispered.

  They both heard a thud against the wall, followed by an "Ouch!" and then Alcie stood in the doorway

  "Where have you been?" Iole asked.

  "Can't a maiden get a little privacy?" Alcie said. "Figs! Okay . . . Pandy, what's with the screeching? Hera's on your side, right? Gave you the map, blah, blah, blah . . .

  "She is. She did. I don't know," said Pandy "Are Cad­mus and his wife awake?"

  "I don't see any lamps on down the hallway," Iole said, now out of bed. "Pandy, what's going on?"

  "Guys, don't you think if I knew I would tell Pandy began. But she broke off suddenly as a huge peacock flew through the paneless window into their room. Pandy leapt to her feet and Dido crawled as far as he could under the pallet against the wall.

  The peacock's ruby eyes glowed a sizzling red-orange and the fanned tail feathers reflected what little light there was off of shimmering diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires. Pandy hovered with Alcie and Iole in the doorway as the peacock strutted tenaciously around the room.

  "Peacocks can't fly," said Alcie.

  "This one can," said Pandy.

  The brilliant bird found Pandy's leather carrying pouch and began pecking hard with its sharp beak, trying to shred the leather and destroy the contents inside.

  Pandy remembered Nera wrapping the drying cloth around her hand in the temple. She grabbed her mother's cloak, plunging her hand deep inside the folds of fabric. She began to swing at the bird, finally delivering a blow that sent it screeching and reeling back against the wall, where it crumbled into a pile of colored dust on the floor.

  "Uh-oh," said Pandora.

  "What?" said Alcie and Iole together.

  A blue light had appeared in the middle of the room, growing larger and brighter each instant. Alcie and Iole held fast to each other, but Pandy stood alone, trying foolishly to place herself between her friends and whatever was coming.

  The blue light stretched itself sideways and downward until it reached the floor. A tasseled gold rope appeared at a diagonal and the girls could see fabric ripples forming as it transformed into a curtain complete with silver curtain rod. It hung in space for only a second, then the golden rope drew the light curtain back and they all saw the white halls and dazzling cloud formations of Mount Olympus.

  Hera was walking a short distance away along a path toward the curtained opening. She held something shiny in her hand and her thin lips were pulled back in a wide smile.

  "Oh, I don't want to faint again," said Alcie.

  "You won't," said Iole, holding Alcie up.

  The Queen of Heaven, in blue and white robes with a crown of rose gold upon her head, stepped from the pathway on Olympus through the curtain of light and into the dark little sleeping room. She smiled graciously at Pandora, but then as she turned and saw her bird in a dust pile on the floor, her face became dark and angry.

  "You do this to my messenger, Pandora? This is how you repay me for my assistance?" she said, hurt and innocent.

  "No, great Hera. I mean yes, but I am very sorry. I didn't know that it was a messenger. It was ripping up my—"

  "Ripping? Ripping? My messenger was sent to praise you, daughter of Prometheus. Not to destroy your possessions. Did you not see the papyrus in its beak? Did you not receive my congratulations?"

  "Um . . . no, mighty and wonderful Hera. I saw nothing," Pandy said, trying to think fast. She had no idea what Hera was doing, if this was some sort of game, but she wanted to be ready for anything.

  "Well, if this is how you treat my small notes of acclaim," Hera said, walking over to the pile and lifting a tiny piece of rolled parchment from on top, "then I shall have to send larger signs, hmm? Like perhaps a flood from the Gulf of Corinth upon which ships will ride, their sails bearing the words, 'Well done, Pandora!' Would you like that? Will that be necessary from now on?"

  Hera held out the note from the pile of dust; a note Pandy knew had not been there before. Before Pandy could take it, however, it vanished in midair.

  "I'll just deliver the message personally," Hera said, as if it were the best thing anyone had ever said in the history of the world. "Most high praise, Pandora! You bring honor to the House of Prometheus!"

  Hera's words were wonderful, but just as she had on Olympus, Pandy again had the sense of something terrible underneath and an image flashed before Pandy's eyes: black snakes swimming under sweet cream.

  "Thank you, wise Hera," said Pandy.

  "Oh, I'm not the wise one, dearest. That's Athena. But then, you don't really know her all that well, do you? Now, I've also brought you this . . ." She held out her other hand, which was full of shiny gold coins. Pandy had never seen coins like them; their edges were not like Grecian coins and the symbols imprinted were of a bird and a large eye. All at once, Pandy knew where she'd seen these symbols before: they were very similar to the ones she'd read on the map, but Hera had clasped her hands together and was smiling broadly again.

  "It's a clue!" she whispered conspiratorially, absolutely delighted with herself. "Zeus would be furious if he knew I was here, helping you more than I already have, which is considerable. But I felt that such tremendous effort and success deserved a teensy reward. After all, daughter of Prometheus, not all plagues will be so easy to capture. So that's a clue to your next location."

  "We already know what our ne
xt—," Alcie blurted from the shadows.

  "Thank you, most generous queen!" said Pandy, not even looking behind her, but hoping she was quick and loud enough to cover Alcie's blunder.

  "I'm sure you'll be able decipher my clue . . . you're such a clever little maiden," said Hera, ignoring Alcie and looking deep into Pandy's eyes. Where before Pandy had sensed dislike from Hera, she now felt she was the recipient of a deep loathing.

  "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

  "Good-bye, Pandora Atheneus Andromaeche Helena. I'm sure I'll see you before long."

  Smiling sweetly, Hera waved her hand and the dust pile flew up and through the curtain of light with a loud screech. Hera turned on her large heels and walked back on the golden path of Olympus. An instant later, the curtain of light disappeared.

  After that, no one was sleepy in the least, so Pandy, Alcie, and Iole spent the rest of the night plotting their strategy upon arriving in Crisa. Iole and Alcie would find an inn with a comfortable room and Pandy, with Dido as protection, would book their passage on a ship to Egypt.

  "With what?" bemoaned Alcie. "We don't have that kind of money!"

  "Yes, we do," said Pandy And she held up the Egyptian coins.

  "Gold is gold."

  "Gods! Do you think Hera realized how much she gave you?" said Iole.

  "I don't know," Pandy replied. "She's pretty sharp."

  They talked for hours, about their adventure so far and lole's remarkable healing.

  "That's twice now, you know," Iole said. "Once on Crete and once in his very own temple. Someday, I'd like to thank Apollo!"

  "Hey, guys," Pandy said, pulling out the map and pointing to the single number on the middle ring, "take a look at this. Wasn't this a different number when we were on the road? 160 . something?"

  "Why, what's the biggie?" Alcie said.

  "Well," Pandy said, glancing at the number, "now it's 164—whoa! It was 166 two days ago!"

  Pandy stared at Alcie, who stared right back. Then they both looked at Iole, her eyes locked on the map, her mind working furiously.