Pandora Gets Angry

by Carolyn Hennesy

  “Oh,” Homer said, remembering something. “I forgot to tell you. Watch where you step.”

  “What? Why?” Alcie asked, turning back. In that instant, a voice whispered into Alcie’s ear.

  “Assassin!”

  “Ahhhh!” Alcie cried, whirling around, stumbling and pitching forward as her foot caught on a smooth black rock. She managed to hang on to the lamp as its stopper banged about on its thin chain, but a tiny drop of oil splashed out and hit the rock she’d just tripped over.

  “What was that?” she cried.

  “I’m sorry,” Homer said. “I forgot to tell you. There are rocks on the floor.”

  “No!” she cried. “There was a voice.”

  Her own voice trailed off as, without any warning, the black rock lying next to her began to vibrate, shaking back and forth. Suddenly, it began to grow and change; even in the dim light of the lamp, Alcie and Homer quickly made out colors and fabric. Then skin and fingers, then an arm, then a leg. The rock changed within seconds and soon a young man, dressed in fine, costly robes stood before them. He was quite dazed, but before Alcie or Homer could speak, a wide grin broke out on his face and he grabbed Homer by the folds of his cloak and wept joyously.

  “Thank you, my friend,” he sobbed. “Thank you for my liberty. You have no idea how long I was trapped in that horrible form. A thousand blessings upon you.”

  “Uh,” Homer said, slightly shaken and pointing to Alcie. “She did it.”

  The young man lifted Alcie off the floor with such speed that Alcie didn’t know what to say. It was only when he went to embrace her that Alcie found her words.

  “Okay,” she said, struggling to keep the man at arm’s length. “Okay … that’s good, that’s enough. We’re good.”

  “Yeah, she’s good,” said Homer, taking a step toward them.

  “How can I thank you?” the man said, his eyes still wet.

  “You can tell us what’s going on. A moment ago you were a rock.”

  “I have been imprisoned for so long. I hardly know where to begin. I am a prince from a neighboring kingdom. For years I have heard the story of the Garden of the Jinn. I traveled a great distance but I came to the garden only to look at the trees. I swear, that was my only reason. I was able to pass safely through the rooms of copper and silver.”

  He pointed behind him as he spoke and in the distance, Alcie saw the entryway to another darkened room.

  “But I became bewitched by the gold. I ignored the warning and I listened to the voices around me. This gold belongs to the genies of the garden, but I thought it could do no harm to take only one piece. There is so much, they would never miss it. I barely got my fingers around a single coin and instantly I was transformed.”

  “That means,” Alcie said, realizing, “that all of these stones are people, just like you?”

  “Yes,” the man said.

  “But what did I do?” she asked. “How did I bring you back?”

  “Just before I transformed,” he said, “I felt something hot. It was a burning sensation on the back of my leg.”

  He turned, lifting the bottom of his garment for everyone to see. There, in the dim light, was a small stain. Touching it, he rubbed it between his fingers.

  “Oil,” he said.

  “When I tripped, it must have spilled from the lamp and landed on you.” Alcie said.

  “The oil inside must be charmed,” said the man, his eyes growing wide.

  “Well, if it worked on you, it’s gotta work on the others, right? Homie, I’ll wager fifty drachmas that Pandy and Iole are rocks. Let’s do this!”

  She knelt on the ground so as to be more precise and not waste any oil. One by one, Alcie released a teensy drop of oil onto each of the black rocks. Up sprang princes, beggars, common workers, and royal advisers. There were young men and old, those who were born in Baghdad and those who had come great leagues to see the magical garden, only to be caught by the spell of the money to be had. None of them were inherently greedy; all of them shunned the sight of the precious metals once they were restored. Some were furious at their captivity and pounded the walls of the large room at the time that they had lost, even though they had not aged a day. Some were so relieved at their liberty that they fainted. Some, as rocks, had been so resentful that they were the voices that had enticed others to join their fate. Others had not known exactly what had happened and so blamed the next person to visit, crying out “assassin” and “thief.”

  But all were grateful to Alcie and Homer for their freedom. In fact Homer had to prevent most of them from rushing upon Alcie, hugging her, kissing her feet or her hands and generally disrupting her task.

  “Homer!” she cried at one point. “Keep them back! I hardly have enough light as it is!”

  Alcie was more than a little surprised when one young man, after being transformed, rushed at Homer and threw his arms about him.

  “This is Douban,” Homer said, looking at Alcie’s surprised expression. “It’s a long story.”

  “I am Douban the Physician,” the handsome youth said, bowing ceremoniously to Alcie. “It is my pleasure, Alcie. You are just as beautiful as Homer said.”

  Alcie, again, was completely stumped. She stood for only a second, shaking her head in utter incomprehension.

  “Hi,” she said, her tone more bewildered than frustrated. Then she knelt and went back to pouring oil on the stones in no particular order. Dozens and dozens of men were restored before her eyes. Then at the very moment, when seeing a young man appear had become so commonplace that she had actually turned back to ask Homer if Pandy had recaptured Rage yet or if she had any clue as to where Rage might be hiding, Alcie heard a soft voice just above her.

  “Oh, Alcie!”

  Iole stood staring down at Alcie. Alcie looked up and that was all it took. The competition for Pandy’s affection, the snarky little comments, the trivial insecurities, all of it vanished. In that one moment, Alcie realized how much Iole meant to her and she was on her feet in a flash. Iole went to throw her arms around Alcie when Alcie stopped her short.

  “Careful,” she said, pointing to her right shoulder, not taking her eyes off her friend.

  “Incredible,” Iole gasped, staring the tiny branches and the red cherries. “Are you all right?”

  “As far as I know,” Alcie replied. “We’ll deal with it later. Right now …”

  She halted as Iole put her hand on Alcie’s arm. Then the two girls embraced as best they could, leaving Alcie’s shoulder alone. Alcie felt a relief like none other; she clung to Iole’s neck and held on as if she were drowning and Iole was a rope that had been tossed to save her. Without warning, Alcie and Iole were sobbing and choking and sputtering, each trying to say something, trying to talk over the other, but nothing came out.

  Iole looked about.

  “Pandy?”

  Instead of answering, Alcie looked at Iole with an expression of astounding determination. The next moment, Alcie moved Iole away from her.

  “Homie!” she yelled. “Start bringing the stones to me! We’re losing too much time if I have to crawl around. New guy! Don’t make me say it again—hold everyone back!”

  One by one, Homie set the black stones in front of Alcie and the seemingly endless supply of enchanted oil. At least a hundred men of all shapes and sizes had been restored, but there were hundreds of stones still left. One at a time the men were liberated and every one of them, after hearing the story told by Iole and Homer, about the young girl who came back from the dead and who was now setting them free, chose to stay and watch the miracle. At last Homer stood before her empty-handed. There was no stone left.

  Alcie began to panic.

  “Could she be in the room of silver?” asked Douban.

  “No! NO!” Alcie screamed, startling everyone there. “I heard her voice in this room! This room was lit up. She has to be here!”

  The men began chattering and moving about.

  “Stop!” Alcie shrieked. “No
body move!”

  Everyone froze.

  “Don’t move a muscle,” she said, her voice carrying the ultimatum with quiet authority. Slowly, the lamp in her hand, Alcie began to walk the perimeter of the large room, in between all the jars heaped with the still untouched gold. Everyone held their breath, following her and the minute flame only with their eyes.

  At last, wedged in between two jars, partially sunk in a pile of golden coins, Alcie saw a black stone.

  “One of you melon heads kicked her over here,” she softly cursed at the men standing closest. Alcie reached for the stone, careful not to touch the piles of gold.

  Placing the stone in the center of the room, she let fall a little drop of oil. In an instant, the fabric of a cloak appeared followed by two legs, then a silver girdle, then two arms, and then a head of long brown hair.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Restored

  Pandy’s first conscious thought was that there were so many people now standing around her in the dark, whereas it seemed as if only a moment ago, she was alone in a brightly lit room, reaching for something sparkling. She shook her head to clear it; she remembered the snakes and the gold and her mission to find Alcie. As it all came back, she noticed a figure resembling Homer standing a short distance away. Then, turning her head slowly for fear of becoming dizzy, she saw Iole, and then, standing so close Pandy could see her red hair glinting in the lamplight, she saw Alcie.

  They looked at each other for a long, long time. Iole stood back and let it happen with joy in her heart. Homer was rapt. Douban, who wanted to rush forward and hold Pandy tightly even for an instant, held his ground. The men around them, without knowing why, complete strangers to the two girls in the center of the room and one another, were humbled by the moment. They were only vaguely aware of something immense and endless, yet quiet and simple passing between the maidens as they stood, face-to-face.

  Then, without any signal or sign, Pandy and Alcie reached out at the same time and fell upon each other without words or tears. Alcie twisted her shoulder slightly so that the twigs in her flesh wouldn’t get in the way; she wanted to explain nothing in this moment.

  Pandy, in that split second, realized that her friends were the family that she had given herself, that no blood sisters could ever be as close as she, Alcie, and Iole. And that nothing would ever change that.

  Not even death.

  They broke apart and stared at each other again.

  “What happened?” Pandy asked.

  “You were a rock. I poured a little oil on you. No biggie.”

  “You brought me back?”

  “It’s what we do,” Alcie said softly.

  “There’s so much to tell you,” Pandy said.

  “You know it!”

  “We have no time now,” Pandy said. “Rage may be hiding at Mahfouza’s house. Maybe not, but it’s a good place to start.”

  “Okay, so you haven’t found it yet. So, then, I didn’t really miss much, right?” Alcie asked.

  Homer chuffed and Iole laughed until she looked at young Douban, his face grim. It only took a little time to transform the remaining stones in the rooms of silver and copper, and soon the men began to disperse, feeling their way into the darkness and out of the treasury. Each one thanked Alcie as he left; some were so grateful and relieved they even thanked Pandy and Iole.

  The girls, Homer, and Douban were readying to leave when Alcie, adjusting her carrying pouch and checking its contents, got the strap caught on the branches in her shoulder.

  “Ow.”

  “What is that, Alce?” asked Pandy, noticing for the first time the small red fruit emerging from Alcie’s body.

  “When I left the underworld, part of me got stuck in this—or this got stuck in me.”

  “Alcie,” said Iole, amazement in her voice, “I think those cherries are … are … rubies!”

  “Figs, no way,” Alcie said, looking at her shoulder.

  “Indubitably. I’d wager anything,” Iole said. “Rubies have a particular sparkle no matter which way they’re cut, and these have it.”

  “Look,” Alcie said, turning to Pandy, “I know we have to get moving. But we probably won’t be back and as long as we’re here, wherever this is, let’s just see what’s so special about this garden.”

  Pandy paused, her brow furrowed. She had no idea what lay ahead, if going to Mahfouza’s was even the right path. But her curiosity was so strong it was making her fingers tingle, and Mahfouza said that the trees were the most amazing feature of the garden.

  “Five ticks on a sundial, okay?”

  “Follow the lamp!” Alcie said as she headed toward the trees.

  Young Douban spent an extra moment retying the sash around his waist, so when he finally caught up to the rest, he was surprised at the silence as everyone stood, gaping, underneath the nearest tree. He followed Pandy’s gaze and there, hanging so low that anyone could touch it, was a perfect pear.

  An emerald pear.

  The most beautiful jewel any of them had ever seen.

  Alcie reached out her hand, but Pandy stopped her.

  “I’m not going to pick it,” Alcie said. “I just want to touch it.”

  But her fingers hadn’t even grazed the surface when the pear dropped to the ground and landed at her feet.

  “You saw!” she said, looking at Pandy’s wide-eyed expression. “Not my bad! I didn’t even get close!”

  “I know,” Pandy said. “I’m just waiting to see what will happen.”

  But nothing happened. No one turned into a rock, no monsters crept from secret places, no thunder.

  “Finder’s keepers,” Alcie mumbled gleefully as she picked up the jewel.

  She moved to the next tree full of topaz oranges. This time she only lifted the lamp to give everyone a better view and again several fruits dropped to the ground.

  “It’s as if they’ve been waiting for us; as if they’re meant for us to have,” Iole said, focusing on two oranges, watching them vibrate and drop as she moved close by.

  “I’m not saying no!” Alcie said, scooping them up.

  “I guess it’s okay, then,” Pandy said, but she still craned her head all around, up and down, searching for any sign of trouble.

  Each tree was more stunning than the last. There were amethyst plums, opal peaches, ruby apples and cherries, citrine lemons, garnet pomegranates, and sapphire figs so blue as to almost be black. The fruit literally fell off the tree if they so much as looked at it. Pandy and Iole were only taking one or two of each, but Alcie was taking as much as she could carry. Her carrying pouch began to bulge with gems, so she thrust a few into Iole’s hands.

  “Keep them for me.”

  “You want all of these?” Iole asked, passing a few oranges and lemons to Douban.

  “They’ll make nice hostess gifts when we get invited to bacchanals and sacrifices back home,” Alcie said. “If we get home.”

  “Girls and their bright, shiny objects,” Homer chuckled, echoing the words of the old gatekeeper.

  “Something you would do well to remember, my good man!” Alcie shot back, handing him pears, apples, and plums.

  “Come on, guys,” Pandy said, heading back into the golden room. “We all have enough for a fruit salad. Alcie, let me have the lamp; I know this route.”

  She led them through the three rooms, all now eerily quiet. When she arrived at the deadly corridor, she stopped.

  “I didn’t do so well in here,” Pandy admitted.

  “I only made it through because I had a little help,” Iole said. “Oh, by the way, I think you may be missing this.”

  She loosened the magic rope from around her waist and handed it to Pandy.

  “What’s in there?” Alcie asked, looking into the darkness of the corridor as Pandy tucked the rope into her bag.

  “Snakes,” Pandy and Iole answered simultaneously.

  “I’m goin’ back to my tree,” Alcie said, starting to turn.

  “You’re g
oing nowhere,” Homer said. “Pandy, let me have the lamp. Now, everyone hold hands and close your eyes. Douban, you’re on the end, okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “When I say move, move fast. Follow the person in front of you and just, like, stay calm.”

  Homer led them into the blackness, prepared to swat, swipe, sweep, and crush if he had to. But there were no snakes anywhere. The corridor was empty and actually a very short distance from the exit to the entrance. In no time, Homer was pushing against the golden door and suddenly everyone was standing in the alcove, which was also completely empty; no snakes, no gatekeeper. Just a message in gold on the walls, written in beautiful, flowing Arabic.

  It is ours once again.

  Maidens of Greece, may the fruits

  of our labor repair the ruined

  and vanquish your foes.

  Depart in peace with our thanks

  “Watermelons,” Alcie said. “What does that mean?”

  “Maidens of Greece,” Homer said, tying the lamp to his waist with a cord. “Someone knew you were coming, or here. Or whatever.”

  “Repair the ruined?” Douban questioned softly.

  “Well,” Iole said, “we were right about the jeweled fruit being a gift, for one thing.”

  “ ‘It is ours.’ What’s ours … theirs?” Alcie asked.

  “The garden,” Pandy said. “Every human is out of it. They’ve taken it back.”

  The next instant, the earth began to shake violently and there was a deafening crash behind the golden door as if something was being blown apart. Everyone tried to run for the staircase, but all were thrown to the ground and could do nothing but cover their heads. At last the noise subsided and a small puff of dirty air shot through a space at the bottom of the golden door. Homer pushed on it, but only succeeded in opening it a few centimeters. He could see nothing but black rock resting against the other side. The entrance to the garden was caved in. It simply didn’t exist.