“But that’s not the real reason?” Iole said, rubbing her broken arm gently.

  “No, not fully,” he said, smiling. “I have been alive since the dawn of time. To be honest, which you deserve, I get bored. Thus, I have frequently roamed my domain in different forms from all over the known and undiscovered worlds. I interact with my people, bringing them new cultures and ideas, thereby hastening the progress of Egypt. Wang Chun Lo did exist, not very long ago. His passing occurred shortly after his caravan entered Egypt. As such, he descended to my underworld and, after telling me his tale, I decided to carry on for a bit in his form . . . one I happen to like very much. I like the caravan and its performers with all of their human flaws. And I love the food.”

  “Why did you need to be . . . like . . . secretive?” said Homer.

  Osiris’s face clouded.

  “It is in keeping with a pact made with Zeus a short time after Pandora allowed the evils to be freed. I promised I would not proffer aid in capturing Vanity when you arrived in Egypt, which of course, we knew you would—arrive, that is.”

  “Then why did you help Pandy through the crystal?” Iole asked.

  “Right . . . sir,” said Alcie. “And why did you let Pandy get old?”

  “That was not direct help. Pandora realized the secret on her own due to her cunning and curiosity. She asked and I agreed . . . as Wang Chun Lo. And I didn’t simply let her, Alcestis. I gave her the option.”

  “Can you put her back to normal?” Alcie asked, looking past Iole to Pandy, who was still caught up in her own reflection.

  “I could. But I cannot,” he said somberly. “She made a sacrifice for you and for her quest and she must honor it. What I can do, however, is alleviate the disturbance of Vanity.”

  “You can put it in the box?” said Alcie.

  “No,” Osiris said. “As I promised Zeus, I would have nothing whatsoever to do with the box. I shall amend Vanity’s effect, however. It shall become the beginning of a healthy sense of self-worth; one that will grow over time into an appreciation, if you will, by Pandora for all of the good things about Pandora. Whatever her age.”

  Osiris waved his hand. Instantly everyone heard the clatter of the metal mirror as it hit the marble floor.

  “What’s going on?” Pandy asked, hobbling toward the group, then she gave a start. “Vanity! Where is it? Did I get it? Is it in the box? I got bit on my ear!”

  “Iole, if you please,” Osiris indicated that Iole should tell the story thus far.

  “Osiris, I present Pandora. Pandy-uh . . . or-a, may I present Osiris. He used to be Wang Chun Lo . . .” She rattled off the pertinent points as Pandy stared at the Egyptian god.

  “. . . and he cannot amend your condition because you struck a deal,” she concluded.

  In spite of the immense amount of new information, all Pandy could think of was the tea.

  “You lied about the tea,” she said, not even bothering to address Osiris formally. After all, what did it matter if he killed her? She was seventy-three; she probably had only a few years left at most.

  “Not entirely, Pandora,” he said with a huge smile. “There are certain Chinese teas with incredible restorative properties. And what I was really telling you is that you must always make time to pause and reflect, let your mind clear every now and then.”

  Pandy thought it was, very simply, dumb. She wrinkled her brow, but no one could tell.

  “Your mother . . . ?” she said, thinking of something else that seemed so unexplainable.

  “Yes,” said Osiris. “I have one as Wang Chun Lo. She has no idea that I am not truly her son. I have fortified her natural ability to portend, and I delight in her past greatness. After all, she was once truly the wife of emperors, leader of dynasties. It keeps her happy. And it’s nice to finally have a mother. Even her.”

  Pandy’s mind flashed to her own mother. “Even her,” she thought.

  “Now,” he brightened suddenly. “As I have just helped Pandora, I can do something for the three of you. Name a gift and it shall be yours, within reason, mind you. Iole, shall I mend your arm? Homer, you would perhaps wish to be instantly in the house of your father? Alcestis . . . shall I attend to your feet once and for all?”

  Alcie’s heart jumped. Her feet! She could have her feet back! Her breath started coming in great heaves. She looked from Homer to Iole . . . and then to Pandy. Her best friend, an old woman.

  Without warning, an idea hit her square in the heart.

  “Iole, Homer,” she said, “I need to talk to you privately.”

  “Alcie, he can hear our thoughts,” said Iole, following Homer and Alcie across the room.

  “Fine! I don’t care. Let’s see what he thinks about this.”

  She revealed her plan, to which there was absolutely no opposition.

  “Great Osiris,” said Alcie, approaching again and looking him square in the face. “We—all of us—wish that you would restore Pandy . . . Pandora . . . to her original age. Because it is what we wish for, and you made a pact with us, we think that should . . . should . . .”

  “Supersede,” said Iole, softly.

  “Supersede, thank you, the pact Pandy made with you. We are all willing to give up our gifts if you do this one thing. Please.”

  “My arm will heal on its own, great Osiris,” Iole said.

  “I will see my father when my true destiny allows it, sir,” said Homer.

  “And I can live with . . . with . . . ,” Alcie clenched her jaw and fought back tears, “my feet.”

  Homer put his arm around Alcie.

  Pandy stood there looking at her friends, her heart so full that she thought it would burst. “Of course,” she thought, “Osiris wouldn’t actually do it, but the very idea that they tried so hard . . .”

  “Very well,” Osiris said.

  “What?” said Alcie.

  “What?” said Pandy.

  “I said, very well. It shall be done.”

  “But . . . ,” said Alcie.

  “Alcestis, you were correct: the sacrifices you three willingly make for your friend do indeed take precedence over her bargain. Pandora would have kept to it, I know; she herself did not ask for this reversal. I offered you what you wished. And it has nothing to do with Vanity directly, so when next I meet Zeus, I can be truthful and say that I had no direct part in its capture.”

  He waved his hand.

  Pandy felt very hot, then very cold, then for an instant she felt as if she were being stung by a thousand angry hornets. Then it was gone.

  She was thirteen, all of her, once again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  A Visit

  12:36 a.m.

  The skin of her hand was smooth and clear and young: only the same two tiny warts on the fourth knuckle of her right hand were there where they’d always been, which made her giggle.

  She ran her tongue over the inside of her mouth. Every tooth was there and she’d never been so happy to have her slight overbite.

  She felt her face. Absolutely normal. Her arms and legs, normal. And she began to feel something she never expected: happy with the way she was, warts and all.

  Suddenly Alcie was squeezing her so tightly she thought she would faint. Then Iole and Homer came and put their arms around them both.

  “Thank you,” Pandy whispered over and over.

  Pandy broke loose and stepped forward.

  “Thank you, great Osiris.”

  “When I tell you that it was a joy for me, you may believe it,” he said, smiling. “You are all so very, very clever. And I am glad of it. I have not so enjoyed reversing a curse in a long, long time.”

  Pandy, completely involuntarily, began to cry.

  “I am simply not used to this. Such tears,” Osiris mused, looking bewildered. “I am used to the wails and lamentations of the dead and their loved ones, but you cry when you should be joyous! Are all Greek maidens so odd?”

  “No,” said Alcie. “We’re special. Pandy, what are you doing?”

  Pandy was rooting through her pouch. Digging deep, she withdrew the small vial of her tears.

  Uncorking the vial, she held it to her cheeks and chin, catching the precious drops that would operate the map. Hearing Osiris’s words, she had begun to feel a little better, so she looked at Alcie’s feet and remembered what Alcie had just done for her, and starting crying again.

  “Why don’t you just use the map now?” Alcie asked.

  “Oh, duh!” Pandy said.

  “No better time,” said Iole.

  Pandy looked at Iole’s broken arm and, sobbing, quickly got out the blue marble bowl with the three concentric rings and their mysterious symbols. Homer poured a little water into the bowl from his water-skin. Pandy held her finger to her eye, then dipped the tear gently into the water.

  Immediately, the rings on the outside of the bowl began spinning left and right, crossing back over each other again and again. As before, two symbols, two distinct words, in a language Pandy recognized as one of the many Berber dialects, finally lined up with each other and radiated the bright blue light.

  “Atlas Mountains? Does that mean your uncle, Pandy?” said Alcie, looking at the top ring. “Where’s he—or they—or them?”

  “Let me show you,” said Osiris. He turned toward the wall and began to flick at the air with his finger. Instantly, a map of the Mediterranean Sea appeared showing the islands of Greece, the boot of Italy, the lands of Samaria, Judea, and Syria to the east, and a very narrow strait of water to the far west. Over the city of Alexandria there appeared large blue letters reading “You Are Here.” Then a blue line drew itself slowly westward from Alexandria across the top of the African landmass until it stopped on a range of mountains just below the narrow strait.

  “Atlas Mountains!” began blinking in bright blue over the mountain range while “Big Rocks!” “End of the Known World!” and “Can’t Miss It!” blinked alternately over the range.

  Pandy calculated the weeks of travel, even in the swiftest boat. But she knew Hera would be watching the sea; they would have to go by land.

  “We’ll never make it in time,” she said softly.

  Iole peered at the bottom ring, anxious to see which evil was to be captured next.

  “Laziness!” she cried. “Well, that shouldn’t be too perilous. I mean everyone will just be lying around.”

  “Look at the counter,” said Homer.

  The counter now read: 157.

  Only 157 days left, they all knew, to capture the remaining five evils.

  “What’s that?” asked Alcie suddenly, looking out the series of large openings that led to the terrace.

  Everyone turned to look.

  A ball of flame, bright as the sun, was growing larger on the horizon.

  “It’s too early for dawn,” said Iole.

  “It’s also not big enough to be the sun,” said Homer.

  “It looks like your orange robe,” said Alcie, looking at Osiris.

  “It is, in a manner of speaking,” he said, smiling.

  The bright ball approached fast, forcing everyone except Osiris to shield their eyes. They turned away, their hands tight over their eyes, the glow was so intense. Then, just like that, it stopped.

  Pandy turned back, but her eyes needed a few seconds to readjust. When her vision finally cleared, she beheld the beautiful, glowing form.

  “Apollo,” she whispered.

  “Apollo!” Iole gasped, her hand flying to her cheek where Apollo, with only a touch, had cured her illness years before.

  “Brother,” Apollo said to Osiris.

  “Welcome, dear friend,” he returned. “You received my message, I see.”

  “Exactly as planned,” Apollo said. “The tiny bit of the sun I gave you to wear was never missed. And having you send it back to me when all had been accomplished was a stroke of sheer genius on my part.”

  Osiris grinned. “You originally put Vanity in the box, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “A guess.”

  Apollo glanced around the room. “All is well?”

  “It is done,” Osiris replied.

  “You know, I wanted to be here. To help on a more profound level, but Zeus is keeping an eagle eye on all of us. It’s all we can do to distract him.”

  “You can spare a moment for tea, yes?” asked Osiris.

  “From China?”

  “You have to ask?”

  “Forgive me,” said Apollo with a grin, turning his deep blue eyes on Pandy. “Greetings, Pandora.”

  “Great Apollo,” she said softly.

  “What did Hermes ask me to say . . . oh yes, your father and brother are fine. They miss you and wish you a speedy return. Or something like that. And your father found his misplaced shell, so call him when you can.”

  “I will,” she said.

  “Why the glum faces on the rest of you?” Apollo said, surveying Iole and Alcie.

  “They have encountered a problem with the map,” Osiris said.

  “Problem?”

  “Yes, great Sun-God,” said Pandy. “We have no way to travel to the Atlas Mountains in time,” she paused, a funny sense of familiarity creeping over her. She’d heard of this place before, and not just in geography class. Her father spoke of it as a place forever shrouded in cloudy darkness.

  “Perhaps Wang Chun Lo will allow you to cross his crystals again?” Apollo said with a wink to Osiris. By the stricken looks on all their faces, this wasn’t particularly funny.

  “Right, very well then,” he said. “My timing, as usual, couldn’t be more perfect.”

  He held out his hand. In his palm rested a small silver cylinder, about the size of four grains of rice laid end to end.

  “Look at it closely, Pandora,” Apollo said.

  She took the cylinder in her hand. There were tiny holes in both ends.

  “It’s my whistle.”

  Pandy looked blank.

  “For controlling the steeds of my sun-chariot, you silly thing,” he said. “Without this, my horses are too high-spirited for even me to handle, but just one toot on the end of this and they become docile as lambs.”

  “I don’t under—,” Pandy said.

  “Of course you don’t,” Apollo said. “That’s why I’m explaining it. You see, normally I like to start the sun rising far in the east. But I thought that, just for today, I’d let it rise here. Now, in about twenty minutes, when I’m back on Olympus, Zeus will want to know why the sun isn’t coming up in its usual place and I’ll tell him that the horses must have gotten loose and since I have misplaced my whistle, it will be very difficult to rein them in. After some mild chastising—blah, blah, blah—he’ll send me off to ‘get the sun or else!’ and I’ll just happen to catch it and the horses around . . . let’s see . . . the Atlas Mountains. All of which gives you enough time to get into the chariot conveniently waiting outside, toot the whistle, and spend about fifteen minutes congratulating yourselves on pulling the sun across the heavens; something no other humans have ever done.”

  “Whoa . . . ,” murmured Homer.

  “Well put, large youth!” said Apollo.

  “Thank you, most gracious Apollo,” Pandy said.

  “It is excellent, I know,” he said. “Very well, be off with you. Osiris . . . tea?”

  “Brother . . . ?” Osiris said.

  “What?” said Apollo. Then, as if remembering a trivial detail, “Oh, yes. Don’t touch the outside of the chariot or you’ll be burned to a cinder.”

  “Right,” said Alcie.

  “Thank you,” Pandy said. “And thank you, great Osiris.”

  Pandy, Alcie, and Homer began to collect their things.

  Apollo felt a tiny tug on his robe. Looking down, he saw two huge eyes staring up at him.

  “Excuse me, wondrous Apollo,” Iole whispered.

  “Why, Iole,” Apollo knelt down, a huge grin on his face, “you’re looking quite well, if I do say so myself— and I do, because I did it.”

  “I just wanted to thank you for . . . my existence.”

  “Well, normally I try not to appear personally in individual cases, scheduling and all that, but your mother prayed most fervently all those years ago. I couldn’t resist healing you,” Apollo laughed. “And if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be doing such a splendid job and having such fun!”

  He lowered his voice. “I could do your arm, you know, but I don’t want to stir up any unnecessary negativity. Don’t want to play faves, right?”

  “Yes . . . yes,” said Iole, hiding her broken arm in her cloak, at a loss for what to say. “I just wanted . . .”

  “Me to know how much you appreciate me,” Apollo said, rising. “I do.”

  Then he put his hand on Iole’s head, which made her tingly all over.

  “You’re very welcome, little one,” he said.

  “Good-bye, Pandora,” Osiris was saying, as Iole joined the group. “All good things to you. Good-bye, Iole. Homer. And, Alcie?”

  “Yes sir?”

  Osiris took a step toward her.

  “Always trust that what you do will have its reward. Perhaps not when you want it, but when you least expect it,” he said. Then, with a very slight flick of his wrist and a subtle narrowing of his eyes, he pointed them toward the passageway.

  “Follow the red line.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The Way Out

  1:27 a.m.

  “What did that mean? About trust and rewards?” asked Iole, when they had started down the torch-lit passage.

  “Who knows?” said Alcie, handing the wooden box and the adamantine net back to Pandy. “Probably just one of those oogly-boogly I’m-such-a-powerful-god things.”

  “Oogly-boogly?” said Homer, his hand on Alcie’s elbow again, guiding her away from the wall.

  “Well, I still can’t believe you guys did that for me,” said Pandy, in the lead. “I was dreading going through the rest of my life looking like Sabina.”

  “Oogly-boogly?” said Homer.

  “Let it go,” said Alcie, with a smile over her shoulder.

  They had been following a thin red stripe along the wall to their right. They passed silent, darkened entryways, through burial chambers where all the sarcophagi were sealed tightly once again, into and out of several rooms filled with ancient treasures. They passed guards who gave them no trouble, only nods that they should pass. Up and down flights of stairs and through so many anterooms and ante-anterooms they lost count.