“Iole?” Crispus called softly from the next cell, his manacles clanking on the ground as he moved closer to the wall dividing them. “Iole? Are you okay?”

  “Y-yes,” she hiccoughed. “I’m fine, Crispus. Are you?”

  “Well, since you asked, one of my wrist manacles is a little too tight, so that’s not pleasant. There appears to be a great deal of scraped skin and a little blood, but other than that I seem to be holding up very well,” he answered, then he paused. “Iole, I am so sorry.”

  “Crispus, that’s the second time you’ve said that, and I’m afraid I must take issue with it. You did nothing, do you understand? We found you in the sewers. We enlisted your help. You were nothing but innocent, brave, and helpful last night. It is I who am sorry.”

  “Yes, I understand, but I’m still sorry,” he said softly from the next cell. “I’m just sorry all of it turned out this way. I suppose I can tell you now. Now that it won’t happen; ever since I met you, which I thought was many moons ago and now it turns out that was wrong. Anyway, ever since I thought I met you, I half hoped that—in thirty years, when you had finished with your service as a Vestal—that … uh, that you … and I … because I tell you on my honor, I would have waited. Of course that was before I found out that the entire Valerius household has been under an enchantment and you’re actually not a Vestal but you are from another time and another country, which is very interesting but slightly inconvenient. And you’re ten years older than I am, really; which would make me six in your world, which would just be weird.”

  Iole smiled in spite of herself.

  “Anyway,” he finished, “I had hopes.”

  “You’re … not the only one.”

  “Really?” he cried.

  “A maiden can dream, can’t she?” Iole said quietly. “I never had any thoughts of anything of that sort until I saw you looking at me the other day. You see, that type of thing just doesn’t happen to me. Perhaps it was just the berry juice on my lips … or the crocodile dung. Maybe you wouldn’t be in such trouble now if I hadn’t smeared crocodile dung on my cheeks.”

  “No dung,” Crispus said. “Just you.”

  Suddenly there was a loud commotion in the front of the prison. A female voice yelled at someone, only to be barked at by the captain of the guards, who was then screamed at in return. Then there was a great deal of shouting as a group, including several guards in their clanking armor, approached Crispus’s and Iole’s cells. Iole could hear the captain’s voice, furious as he stomped down the corridor.

  “This is unheard of,” he shouted. “Why would you need to measure, for Pluto’s sake?”

  All at once, Rufina appeared in front of Iole’s cell. The smirk of delight and disgust on her face went nearly all the way around her head, which was now the size of a watermelon. She had gained so much weight from the enchanted bread that she spanned nearly the entire corridor, from one cell entrance all the way to another on the opposite wall.

  “It doesn’t matter, you buffoon, what you haven’t heard of before,” she said, her three chins hanging down below her neck, wobbling as she spoke. “My father is interrupting an entire feast tonight to punish this maiden and her male companion and he’s tearing up a very expensive floor to do it. We only want to take out so many tiles. That’s why we need precise measurements for both prisoners. Oh, slaves? Come here at once!”

  Looking out between the thick iron bars, Iole saw some movement behind Rufina.

  “Slaves!” she barked. “Don’t add to your punishment; come here at once!”

  Again, there was movement behind Rufina and a ruffling of her robes. Then came a few grunts and several sighs. Then Iole heard Alcie’s muffled voice.

  “A little help, please?” she said. “Excuse me, you … guard? Yes, would you just … just … oh, for Zeus’s sake, shove!”

  Someone gave a huge push and Rufina’s waist rippled across the corridor, although her head didn’t move. In that moment, Pandy and Alcie fought their way out from behind Rufina’s enormous backside to the cell opening. It was only then that Iole realized that both of her friends were shackled at the ankles with chains so short they barely dragged on the ground.

  “Oh, there you are,” Rufina said, her body settling back into stillness. “What kept you? Never mind. Now, Daddy wants precision! I know how hard you two try to be precise and I know how difficult it is for you. Why, just this morning, you both were only moments away from stealing back onto your sleeping cots and not getting caught for the runaway slaves that you are. Except I am infinitely smarter than either of you and I was waiting. I knew, one night, you’d stay out too late and I wanted to be there to catch you. Still don’t know why you were soaking wet, but the point is, you’re not as precise as you thought you were, eh? Well, in addition to the death my father ordered for you tomorrow, you have to serve me today. And I want the exact number of cubits for each of your little friends so we don’t rip any more of my dance floor than necessary. So go on, get to it!”

  Pandy and Alcie waited while a guard unlocked Iole’s cell door.

  “And if you speak to the prisoner, I’ll have your tongues removed right here,” Rufina said.

  Pandy and Alcie, who had both opened their mouths to say something low to Iole, shut them again and began to shuffle across the cell floor.

  “My friends, Rufina?” Iole said, staring at the girl who was now the size of a Roman chariot. “You had to have my friends do this?”

  “Well, what are friends for?” Rufina giggled. “And speaking of friends, you all might be interested to know what happened to Homer.”

  Alcie tensed. The last time she’d seen Homer was earlier that morning as they had all dragged themselves—and Varius, who was still without a mouth—out of the Tiber. Varius had run off in the direction of the nearest temple—dedicated to Jupiter, Pandy had said—probably to pray … silently. Homer had given Alcie a quick kiss on her cheek and had sped off toward Caesar’s insula as she and Pandy raced in the opposite direction.

  “Just like you two fools,” Rufina continued, “he didn’t make it back in time either. And Caesar just happened to be home. The word around Rome this morning is that he was so upset at seeing his prized gladiator, whom he basically stole from my daddy, flaunting the rules right under his nose that he sent word to Daddy and together they came up with a two-part punishment that’s a real doozy!”

  “You don’t say,” said Iole, knowing that Alcie couldn’t say a word.

  “Oh, but I do! The second part is pretty standard. Homer is going to be put in the Forum with no weapon and three hungry lions on really, really long chains. There won’t be enough left of him for the carrion crows!”

  Iole looked at Alcie. If that was the second part …

  “What’s the first part of his punishment?”

  “This was my idea and this is where it gets fun!” Rufina cried. “You know how tonight you’re going to be buried alive?”

  “That’s the rumor,” Iole said wryly, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

  “Well, once we figure out how many tiles to take up and how deep to make the pit, Homer is going to be the one doing the digging! Sort of keeps it within your little group—makes it more special, don’t you think?”

  Pandy and Alcie stopped mid-shuffle and just stared at Rufina.

  “You are, without question, so inordinately psychotic,” Iole said.

  “Silence! Or I’ll have you …”

  “You’ll have me what? Killed?”

  Rufina was momentarily stopped mid-sentence.

  “Melania just might have something to say about this, you know,” Iole said.

  “Oh, she does,” Rufina laughed. “When she was told what you’d done, who you were found with, she denounced you to the household and went to the Temple of Vesta to pray for you. Reports have come back that she’s also tearing her hair out and weeping, but I can’t understand why.”

  Iole hung her head, realizing that Melania—the one adult she’d met in ages who’d taken an interest in her and cared for her—no longer believed in her. Iole felt as if she’d betrayed more than a sacred trust: it was almost as if she’d betrayed her own mother.

  Silently, with only a look to each other now and then, Pandy and Alcie got on their knees—with great difficulty—and used their forearms to measure how many cubits to Iole’s height.

  “I count three and slightly more than one-half cubits,” Pandy said, turning to another slave who was holding a writing tablet and stylus.

  “Very good,” said Rufina. “Now, the male.”

  Alcie gave Iole only a backward glance, but Pandy secretly managed to squeeze Iole’s arm as she left the cell. They measured Crispus to be between three and three-quarters and four cubits. Then, as quickly as they arrived, they were gone. Only moments before, Pandy and Alcie had both been as close as they would ever be and now Iole knew she would never see them again. And that short time with them had been spent getting measured for her grave.

  Iole sank to the ground in the middle of her cell and began to sob. In that instant, she had the one thought she’d never before entertained, the thought that betrayed everything her friendship with Pandy stood for: she wished she’d never come on the quest. The fact that Athens was probably still in ruins, that the world was changed for the worse with evils still in it, and that she was part of a tiny but heroic group so close to putting everything right … none of it mattered. Because in a matter of hours, she would be buried alive.

  “Iole?” Crispus called. “Iole?”

  But the girl who was always so practical, so logical, and so thoughtful when Pandy and Alcie were beside themselves with anger, sadness, or frustration; the one of the three who was stoic, calm, and unflappable …

  That girl was now beyond reach.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hera and Juno

  Across the city, far from the gods’ insula, Juno sat on a hard stone floor with Hera. Days earlier, when she realized that the other immortals were blatantly lying about Hera’s whereabouts and she would have to take matters into her own hands, she swiftly—but quietly—annihilated a small family living peacefully on one floor of a modest insula and moved herself in. Watching the innocent family succumb to death, she told herself it was simply a necessary part of this whole ridiculous business of having to play host to the Greek immortals; that she and Hera would, of course, need their own little nest in order to finalize their plans to become the most powerful deities in the universe. Then she returned to the gods’ crowded insula and watched, waited, and listened for the clues that would tell her where her counterpart was.

  Now, after piecing Hera back together herself, then dealing with Varius, Cloacina, and “the brats” (she had adopted Hera’s pet name for Pandora and her friends), Juno was pounding Hera on her back, forcing the rest of the sour bathwater out of Hera’s lungs.

  “Good girl,” Juno said, giving Hera another hard slap across her broad shoulders. “Get it all up.”

  “I’m … I’m all right … all right. ALL RIGHT!” Hera choked out, finally catching Juno’s hand before she could pound again. “Zeus’s armpits! You have quite the arm there, my sister. You could be a discus thrower. I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Good,” Juno said, leaning back against the wall. “Well, that was an adventure I don’t want to repeat!”

  “We won’t have to,” Hera said, her breath finally evening out. “When all this is over; when Lucius Valerius becomes ruler and your temples outnumber those of the other gods ten to one in Rome and mine populate every meter of Greece, you can move to Olympus with me. I’ll have everyone else chained up in Tartarus by then, and we can have the run of the place. And no sewers!”

  “Sounds delightful,” Juno said, then she took out the new carved coin from the folds of her robes. “And now that you mention Valerius, let us make good use of his likeness. You know, I have to hand it to that artist, Varius: he did this right on the gold. No wood carving, no mold; right on the coin itself.”

  “We didn’t give him a choice,” Hera replied. “And we made the metal pliable enough.”

  “But still,” Juno said. “I’m feeling slightly generous all of a sudden. I’m going to do something for him.”

  “We let him live!” Hera cried.

  “Oh, we can afford to be beneficent!” Juno countered, conjuring the image of Varius in the air. Then she snapped her fingers.

  At that moment, just as he was trying to figure out how to feed himself a slice of bread through his nose, Varius’s mouth reappeared on his face.

  “You’re a gracious goddess, Sister,” said Hera.

  “You know it,” Juno smiled, then she snapped her fingers again and suddenly the one coin became thousands and Juno and Hera found themselves surrounded by mounds of glittering gold.

  “Allow me,” said Hera, flicking her wrists. Instantly, the gold was stuffed into dozens of cloth sacks, which promptly disappeared.

  “You made the switch?” Juno asked.

  “You have to ask?” Hera said.

  “Apologies.”

  “Tonight, when Caesar distributes the gold to his senators, they will all hold up coins with the face of the most spineless, sappiest, most weak-gutted, greediest senator of all. And by Caesar’s own decree, Valerius will have to be crowned ruler. Naturally, Caesar will revolt and be executed for treason; then our plans will really move forward. It’s only a matter of time now.”

  “So,” Hera said, getting to her big feet. “What are you going to wear?”

  “I’m thinking red.”

  “The color of blood!”

  “Precisely,” said Juno.

  “I’ll join you. But I’m throwing in a little black—for the pit those two slaves will be buried in.”

  “Always so creative.”

  “I try.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Delivery

  “Give me something … anything,” Varinia said softly. As angry as she was, she was also growing weary and couldn’t bring herself to yell. “Anything to placate my husband.”

  Pandy and Alcie stood silent, each one wondering if the other was going to speak, then realizing neither had anything to say. Varinia sighed—her fortieth or so since her questioning began.

  “In the years that you two have been with the household,” she said, which of course immediately confused Pandy and Alcie until they remembered Hermes’ enchantment, “I have come to think of you both as much more than simple servants. You two have become like daughters to me. Inasmuch as I do not have a daughter I would wish …”

  Varinia paused and cleared her throat.

  “… on anyone, you two have always been a source of secret pride to me.”

  Pandy looked at this woman whom she had only known for several weeks, speaking about her in ways that should have thrilled her, and would have, if the woman had actually been her mother. Sibylline had never been proud of her daughter, at least not so that Pandy had noticed.

  “But now,” Varinia went on. “Now that you have tried to escape …”

  “We didn’t!” Pandy started.

  “Hush!” Varinia said, holding up her hands for silence. “It doesn’t matter, don’t you see? You broke the rules and were caught. But if you can tell me anything that might mitigate your punishment, I may be able to save your lives. Normally, Lucius can’t bear the sight of Rufina, but now she has his ear and tomorrow, after you have served at the feast tonight, you will be killed. Not simply punished as runaways usually are, but executed as a warning to all others. Tell me something I don’t know. Were you all out together or were you two looking for Iole and Crispus?”

  Pandy and Alcie looked at each other.

  “You know you cannot save her,” Varinia said gently. “But you can save yourselves. Were you looking for her?”

  “No,” Pandy said. “We were all together, but Crispus and Iole hardly even spoke to each other.”

  “Do you have any witnesses to that? Anything that would counter the testimony of the guards who say they found them on the street holding hands? Anyone who saw you?”

  “Cloacina,” Alcie said.

  Varinia stared at Alcie in astonishment.

  “Do you mock me?”

  “No, mistress, no!” Pandy countered quickly. “She means that we just got so lost in the sewers trying to get back here before dawn. We were down there so long that if anyone could have seen us, it could only have been the goddess of the sewers. That’s all.”

  “That’s all.”

  “Then that’s a pity,” Varinia said. “I wish you could produce Cloacina, Alcestis. I do. I would welcome the stench if her words would clear you two of any wrongdoing. Now go and prepare for our guests. Try not to think too heavily upon tomorrow; I shall still speak to my husband, for all the good it will do. Go.”

  The walk back to their tiny room was more of a dodge, bob, and weave around the many carved wood, gold, and ivory cages that were propped up along every corridor on the upper floor. Cooing, squawking, growling, and howling filled the higher reaches of the house while the main room was undergoing final final preparations.

  Pandy threw aside the flimsy privacy curtain as Alcie brushed by her and headed for the window.

  “Can’t you do something?” she asked, staring at the sliver of faraway green hills beyond the crush of the city buildings.

  “What do you suggest?” Pandy called, having flopped on her cot.

  “Burn it,” Alcie said flatly, now gazing at two horse-drawn carts entering the courtyard. “We may not succeed, but we shouldn’t let them win. Burn Rome.”

  The sharp, shrill calls of various birds rose from the corridor outside.

  “Hounds of Hades,” Pandy said, putting her hand to her temples. “There’s no thinking about anything with that going on.”

  “Yeah,” Alcie said, her eyes now focused like a hawk on the carts and their contents. Dido, on his chain in the garden, began to bark wildly in recognition. “Well, if you want your brain to really run out of your ears, c’mere.”