by James Welsh
As an owl, Athena flew around the dirty cloud of shades, careful to keep her distance. Even as a goddess, she knew it would be too dangerous to touch one of the spirits – she did not want to find out what happened if she touched one while transformed as an owl.
She flapped her wings hard yet effortlessly, the shore a blur beneath her as she made her way to the volcano. She needed to get there in plenty of time, because she didn’t know how much time she would need. She went over the plan again and again in her mind. It all seemed simple enough, almost too simple. She didn’t even want to think about what she had asked of Apollo. She felt guilty asking for his help – she had done so, knowing that no matter what, Apollo would say yes. There was a god who accepted any duty without question, even when he should have asked questions.
She was only a few minutes into her flight, but already she could see the volcano looming in the distance. The yellow sand beneath her soured blue as she flew out over the sea. The waters seemed choppier than usual, the dark waters turning white like cream. She thought of the wolves she had seen before, the wild dogs scratching and biting at their fur, trying to uproot the bugs nestled between the hairs. She wondered if the entire world was doing the same thing – she wouldn’t have been surprised.
The volcano was coming up now. She tilted her wings and descended into the mouth of the volcano. As she dove deeper and deeper into the pit, the walls shot up around her, and she felt like a fish swimming straight into a whale’s mouth. She felt a sudden pang of fear – what if the plan didn’t work, or worse yet, if it worked too well? What if she was trapped in the Underworld with the shade army? What evils would Hades and his generals have in store for her when she was discovered? But she had no time to be afraid.
It seemed to take her longer to descend to the floor of the pit than it took her to fly to the volcano in the first place. Finally, she reached the floor, or rather the floor reached her. It was hard for her to see through the dark, even as an owl, and she hit the rocks hard. The bird groaned and got up on its talons, shaking off the soreness. A few feathers floated down to the ground as the owl shook.
A few moments later, the owl was no longer there – instead, Athena was back in her regular form. She remembered and spat out the seed she had been carrying in her mouth. She couldn’t see it in the darkness, but she could feel the seed in the palm of her hand, slimy with spit. She got down on her knees and began groping around, hoping to find the hole that led to the Underworld. After a minute or so of searching, she found it, a massive, perfectly round hole that led straight down into the Underworld. At the bottom of the hole, she could see a faint dance of blue – the rocks at the bottom must have been reflecting the shimmering rivers that flowed through the Underworld.
There was obviously no soil at the bottom of the volcano. A mortal would have thrown their hands up in despair, thinking it impossible to plant an olive tree in such a rocky and desolate place. But Athena knew better – she found a crack running along the edge of the hole. She would make her garden there. She had to wait to plant it though – too soon, and the shade army would still be in the mortal world – too late, and the shades could break out again.
And so Athena stepped away from the hole and looked up at the faint light coming down from beyond the volcano’s summit. She whispered, “Come on, Apollo, hurry up.”