“Okay,” Jupiter said, with a pause to look at Zeus. “And now I’m scared.”

  “Right with you, Brother,” Zeus said. “If you will forgive my hasty departure, Cloacina, I must check on someone. Jupiter, care to take a walk?”

  The food-preparation room, one of largest in any private home in Rome, was now bursting with escapees from the whirlpool. Almost all were slaves, some from other houses who’d only accompanied their masters for the evening, good and obedient servants of Valerius, the weeping Vestals, Varinia, and many guards. The house had indeed been shaken off its foundation by Cloacina’s “cleanup,” and a large piece of stone had fallen from an upper floor and was now blocking the way out into the small garden where the well was. Many slaves were sitting on the wine-stained floor or standing still, confused, shaken, and clinging to each other. There was only a smattering of tears as most were still dumbstruck with the fearful sight they’d just witnessed—and survived.

  The space in the room was made all the more cramped due to the fact that Caesar’s guards were keeping him surrounded while they tried to move the large stone away from the door at the same time other guards were keeping everyone, even Varinia, at a distance from Lucius Valerius. And Alcie was snapping at everyone to stay back from Pandy, but that was proving difficult to accomplish; everyone close by wanted to see what the two golden-haired men were doing to the mortally wounded maiden.

  Suddenly Zeus and Jupiter pushed their way through the crowd, followed by most of the other immortals. The humans in the room were squished up against the walls; some were nearly trampled.

  “Why does she still lie on ground, son?” Zeus asked Apollo as he stared at Pandy. She was now beyond pale, blood flowing freely from the wound in her shoulder, piles of soaked rags off to the side.

  “We cannot stem the flow of blood,” answered Apollo.

  “Her wound was serious to be certain, Phoebus,” said Jupiter. “But your skill outweighs any mortal weapon.”

  “Phoebus?” shrieked a woman standing close by.

  “Great Jupiter,” answered Phoebus. “We have tried every method we know. We have removed the blade but the wound will not staunch. It’s as if something is interfering with our power.”

  “Jupiter? Jupiter! Hey, everyone, look, it’s Jupiter and Phoebus,” a man crushed against a nearby wall began to shout.

  “I always thought Jupiter was bigger!”

  “No … no! It’s him! I’d recognize that face anywhere!”

  “I think I see Venus, and someone who looks just like her!” said another man.

  “You have all the powers attendant upon the god of healing, my son,” said Zeus to Apollo. “This is not …”

  Zeus turned to see nearly the entire room on their knees in front of him. All the gods—only Hera and Juno were missing—found dozens of mortals at their feet.

  “Oh, heavens,” Jupiter sighed, turning. “Game’s up.”

  “Mighty Jupiter,” began one man, wringing his hands. “I have been out of a job for seven moons now; is there anything you can …”

  “Great Phoebus,” cried a woman. “My son has been turned away from the medical academy. Do you think you could put in a good word?”

  “Minerva! Oh, wise Minerva! My wife spends money like a sailor with one night ashore. Would you curse her for me?”

  “Venus? Oh, then you must be Aphrodite! I have a pimple on my …”

  “Bacchus! Would you sign my toga?”

  Jupiter looked at Zeus.

  “Were all these people in here when we walked in?” he asked sideways out of his mouth, trying to maintain a beneficent smile.

  “I don’t know. I tend not to really notice mortals up close.”

  “Okay, citizens, show’s over,” said Jupiter. “Nothing to see here. Move along.”

  “They can’t move, Father,” said Mars. “Big stone blocking the exit.”

  “Not anymore,” Zeus said with a flick of his forefinger, sending the stone toppling. “Everyone who needs to stay, stay. The rest, begone.”

  No one moved. Only Pandy moaned slightly in her unconsciousness and that was all Zeus needed. With one glance over the room, he took in those with a reason to remain. With a nod of his head, everyone else vanished.

  “Tell me you didn’t pull a ‘Cloacina’ and send those slaves down a drain to nowhere,” Jupiter said.

  “They’re right outside and out of the way,” said Zeus. “Now, sons, what keeps you from healing this maiden?”

  “Might be me,” came a deep voice from a shadowy corner.

  “And me.”

  “Buster!” cried Persephone. “It’s my big Buster!”

  “Hi, honey-cake,” Hades said, grabbing his wife and giving her a whirl.

  “Miss me, lambkins?” said Pluto, stepping forward and planting a kiss on Proserpine.

  “And how!” she said.

  “Oh, well, that’s just terrific,” said Phoebus. “No wonder we couldn’t get anything done. No offense, Uncle Pluto, but your natural death-waves are really wrecking the good vibrations we’re sending out.”

  “Faaaather,” whined Apollo. “We want to heal her. Make them stop!”

  “We’re not here for the girl, nephew,” said Pluto.

  “Nope,” said Hades. “She’s all yours, you hacks. It’s just that it’s getting chilly up here in the mortal world, which means winter is coming on. We need our snuggle-bunnies to keep us warm. Remember, Persephy … it’s your promise. Six moons up here and six moons with me.”

  “Oh, Buster-boo,” said Persephone. “I can’t wait, you know that! Let me just say good-bye, then you and I can get outta here!”

  “That go for us too, squash-blossom?” said Pluto to Proserpine.

  “Double, my big, lord-of-the-dead fuzzy-wuzzy.”

  “Okay. Seriously?” said Aphrodite. “You two talk like that for six months? Seriously?”

  “Yep,” said Alcie softly.

  “I’m the goddess of love and that’s making even me sick.”

  “Wow,” snorted Apollo. “I am so glad you don’t show up at more family reunions, Uncle.”

  “You know nothing about how to keep the flames of love alive, you silly boy,” said Hades to Apollo. “All you do is get ladies turned into laurel trees and such. Come on, P.”

  “Hang on, H to the A to the D …,” Persephone said, already on the move.

  She glided over to Alcie and kissed her on the forehead. Then she took Proserpine’s arm, and the two goddesses went to Pandy. Persephone gently placed her hand directly on the still-flowing wound. Immediately, the blood slowed to a trickle and Pandy, with a great shudder and gasp, opened her eyes.

  “How did you …?” asked Phoebus.

  “What gives?” said Apollo.

  “Silly boys,” said Persephone. “We’re the goddesses of springtime. Which means we have the ability to stimulate life where there appears to be none. To bring hope in the darkness. To revive that which is thought to be dead.”

  “I know,” said Proserpine.

  “I know!” said Persephone.

  “Isn’t that right, Pluty-wooty?” giggled Proserpine.

  “As rain,” said Pluto, pinching her playfully.

  “Pandora’s body had just shut down, that’s all,” said Persephone. “And her spirit was in tremendous confusion. I don’t wonder why, with everything this maiden has been through. Neither Hades nor Pluto was wrecking your vibes, uncles. It was Pandora herself, on the brink of a very im-por-tant decision. She didn’t even really need our help, but if any goddesses can stir up a positive outlook it’s Proserpine and I. It didn’t take potions or spells; just a little breath of spring. A little revival. Now, Uncle, you may handle all the silly topical stuff. Okay, we’re off!”

  “This was fun!” said Proserpine.

  “I know!”

  “I KNOW!”

  Hades, Persephone, Pluto, and Proserpine disappeared in a flash of black smoke and a shower of white rose petals.

  “Topical stuff!” said Apollo.

  “Quiet and attend to the maiden,” said Zeus, as Pandy began to stir. “Immortals, away! Pandora has a few things to accomplish after she fully wakes and we should not distract her further with our presence. We have a few things to do ourselves, don’t you agree, Brother?”

  “I do,” said Jupiter. “And first on the list …”

  He waved his hand and the entire room, except Alcie, Crispus, Varinia, Lucius, Caesar, and their guards, fell into a deep sleep.

  “When they wake, they’ll only remember a grand feast with some exceptionally bad entertainment.”

  Zeus then waved his hand in a wide arc in front of his body.

  “Brother?” asked Jupiter.

  “Something we should never have let get out of hand in the first place,” Zeus said, crossing the room and reaching down to pluck a stolen aureus from the pocket of a quivering guard. Tossing it to Jupiter, Jupiter could see the likeness of Caesar engraved in the gold.

  “Back to the original,” Zeus said. “Clear up that mess once and for all.”

  Lucius groaned and slumped where he stood.

  “Sorry, Senator,” Zeus said. “No ruler of Rome for you. You’re just going to have to content yourself with being an extremely powerful personage in one of the greatest societies in the world. Deal with it, my good man.”

  “Which puts me in mind of two lovely bovine-figured goddesses we should seek out,” said Jupiter.

  “Hera?” called Zeus. “My precocious little pork patty! I’d like a word, please!”

  “Come to me, my gorgeous gobbling goat,” Jupiter said loudly. “Juno? Don’t make me come to you. Won’t turn out well.”

  Neither Juno nor Hera appeared.

  “Good,” said Zeus. “I’m in the mood to hunt some big game.”

  With that, the Sky-Lords vanished.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Greed

  Pandy tried to sit up, but the pain was still so great that she fell back again, beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead.

  “Morpheus,” she mumbled, closing her eyes. “Take me back.”

  “Now, now,” his voice called from somewhere deep in her mind. “We had a lovely visit, but you made your choice and it was the right one.”

  “But it hurts,” she whispered. “It hurts so much.”

  “You can’t make an oatie cake without cracking a few eggs,” she heard him say. Then his laughter faded into silence and she opened her eyes.

  “I don’t even know what that means,” she said absently, staring up at the ceiling. Then Alcie’s face loomed over her and behind Alcie, Apollo, and Phoebus.

  “Pandy?” Alcie said. “Pandy, can you hear me?”

  “Yeah,” she replied. “I can. I can hear you.”

  “Oh, blessed Athena, blessed Zeus, blessed everyone else who I can’t remember right now. I thought you were gone. I mean really, really gone.”

  “I was,” Pandy said, trying again to sit only this time Apollo and Phoebus moved to help her. “I was gone.” Pandy looked down and saw that her injured shoulder was heavily bandaged and her arm was in a sling. Immediately, she thought of the Eye of Horus; she didn’t even know where it was and couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen it.

  “Are you thinking of this?” Apollo said, holding up the amulet.

  “I was,” Pandy said, looking at the two identical gods. “I am, Great … uh …”

  “Apollo.”

  “Thank you,” she said reaching for the Eye. “Where did you find it?”

  “Who cares?” said Phoebus. “I think one of your little friends had it in her pouch—or maybe it was you. No matter. I wouldn’t give you a drachma for it; silly Egyptian hoop-de-doo. It won’t help you really.”

  “We have something much better for you,” said Apollo.

  “All you need to do is apply a special poultice three times a day under clean bandages; we’ve added supplies of both to your pouch. In a few weeks, you’ll never know the knife had been there.”

  “Thank you,” said Pandy, gently taking the amulet from Apollo. “But I’d like to hang on to this, if you don’t mind.”

  “Tell me she’s not being ungrateful, Brother,” said Apollo, closing his eyes and turning his head dramatically. “Tell me she’s not rejecting the medical advice of the two greatest physicians in the universe.”

  “I wish I could.” Phoebus sighed. “I wish I could.”

  “No!” Pandy said. “I’ll do exactly as you suggest. I’ll follow your instructions, I promise. I just want to hold on to this as a—a reminder of everything that’s happened. You know …”

  She was about to tell them of the all the healing the little amulet had done in the past months, but quickly decided against it. Instead, she casually slipped it around her neck and instantly felt the pain in her shoulder subside.

  “Thank you, mighty gods,” she said. “Thank you for bringing me back. Thank you for saving me.”

  “Oh, apparently we didn’t actually,” said Phoebus in a mocking tone. “Apparently, our little nieces, Persephone and Proser …”

  “Ahem!” coughed Apollo. “Hmmm … ahemmm. You’re very welcome, Pandora. You might remember us especially when next you’re trying to decide who to worship first on a feast day.”

  “I will,” she answered. “I will.”

  “Then let us be off, Brother,” Apollo said, rising. “I feel the need to heal some more. Let’s see if there’s anyone who’s lost a limb or two.”

  “Sounds grand!” said Phoebus. “Maybe a complete dismemberment! After all, this was one wild night.”

  The gods vanished in a shower of gold dust and Pandy looked up to find Alcie sitting next to her on the floor.

  “Hi,” Alcie said.

  “Hi.” Pandy sighed. She went to hug Alcie, but the residual pain in her arm caused her to wince.

  “Easy.”

  “What did I miss?” Pandy asked.

  “Too much to tell you now.”

  “Iole? Homer?”

  “Don’t know. The last I saw, Homer was scoopin’ dirt into the pit. Then you handed the pitcher to me, then you got …”

  “Greed!” Pandy exclaimed. “What happened to it? Where is it?”

  “Right here,” Alcie said, pulling the pitcher from where she’d been hiding it with her cloak against the wall. “And I have the box right here.”

  “Give me that pitcher!” screamed Lucius Valerius from across the room. “Give it to me or I will see you both devoured by lions!”

  Alcie filled her lungs with air as she turned.

  “Shut up!”

  Varinia gasped, but Lucius closed his mouth.

  “Alce!” said Pandora.

  “I don’t care. Respecting elders is one thing and normally I do, really, but this whole family just bugs me.”

  “Thank you for saving it,” Pandy said, nodding toward the pitcher.

  “It’s box time!”

  “Got that right,” Pandy said, moving to slide the pin out of the lock on the box. “Then we have to find Iole and—ow! Ow … okay. Okay. Alcie, I can’t move fast enough. Not fast enough to toss it in without anything else escaping. I can’t even get the pin out. There’s still a lot of pain. Ow! This is worse than when Giondar dislocated my left shoulder. Much worse. You’re gonna have to put Greed in the box.”

  “Uh…. Uh-huh, yes. And would that be … by myself?”

  “You can do it.”

  “I can?”

  “Alcie,” Pandy said, looking straight into her friend’s eyes. “I trust you more than anyone I know. You can do it.”

  Alcie sighed deeply and Pandy could tell her friend was terribly nervous.

  “You got this,” Pandy said.

  “Yeah,” Alcie smiled quickly. “Well, sure. Yeah.”

  Then she slid the box in front of her and, with a little side coaching from Pandy, withdrew the hairpin and flipped the clasp. She grabbed the pitcher and went to open the lid, then she paused.

  “You trust me more than Iole?”

  “Hermes’ helmet! Put. The. Evil … inthebox,” Pandy said through gritted teeth.

  “Right.”

  In one fluid motion, Alcie raised the lid and stuck the pitcher inside. But even though the pitcher immediately began to bubble and steam away, it was still too large for the lid to close. Within moments, Pandy and Alcie saw a red streak of thick smoke snaking it’s way from the back toward the front. Then a brown streak. Pandy began pounding on the lid of the box with her good arm, sending white-hot pain into her upper-right side as she tried to force the pitcher to sizzle away faster, but to no avail. Alcie began blowing on the ugly streaks of smoke, now four of them, trying to drive them back, but they were moving steadily toward the opening.

  In her mind, Pandy saw all the misery, the frustration, the loss, the death as well as the triumphs, the joys, the bonds, and the love they’d experienced in the last several moons—in short, all their hard work—evaporate as the streaks began to rise into the air. It was all going to be for nothing, because everything was getting out again. Evil was being loosed on the world once more and she didn’t even have the strength to scream.

  Out of nowhere, a glint caught her eye. Then two familiar forms came into focus just before Pandy’s eyes were diverted by a spinning whirl of metal seemingly heading straight at her. In the next second, before she or Alcie had a chance to breathe, the adamant net dropped with precision and settled over the rising streaks of smoke, pushing them back down toward the box. Suddenly, a sandaled foot was stomping on the evils.

  “A little help here?” said Iole, kicking the net.

  “Hah!” said Alcie staring up at Iole then shaking off her momentary shock. She began pushing the evils back inside the box with the flat of her hand as Pandy feebly pounded on the top trying to force the lid down. Homer joined Pandy and pressed down hard, but they stopped when it sounded like the wooden top was starting to crack.

  Finally, the pitcher sizzled away enough that Alcie was able to close the lid, flip the clasp over the lock, and slide the hairpin through once more. Homer and Iole sunk to the floor beside Alcie and Pandy. Everyone was breathing as if their lungs were losing more air than they were taking in, and no one said anything for ages. Alcie gently slid her hand over Homer’s.