Pandora Gets Vain (Pandora (Hardback)) (25 page)
“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.”
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.
All of a sudden, Pandy stopped.
“Iole!”
“What? What’s wrong? Did we forget something?”
“How could I be so stupid?”
“What?” said Alcie.
Pandy reached around her neck and unclasped the Eye of Horus. For an instant, she felt the tiniest twinge in her stomach where the pole had pierced her. But that wound was, miraculously, almost healed. And there was no pain at all in her hip or the places where the golden shrapnel had caught her; only a small, golden teardrop scar yet remained under her eye.
Carefully, she brought Iole underneath a torch for better light. Draping the eye over Iole’s head, she clasped the pendant again. A look soon came over Iole’s face of the sort that Pandy only saw when her father had had a little too much wine or after some of the girls at school snuck off with the youths to eat lotus leaves.
“Good?” asked Pandy.
Iole, very lightly, swung her broken arm from side to side.
“Oh! It’s going to be great,” she said, hugging Pandy gently with both arms.
“You’re not going home . . . right?” Pandy said softly.
“Of course not,” Iole whispered.
Onward they went, talking about the adventure that just ended: the black funnel, the dolphins, and the amazing tents of the Caravan of Wonders. Alcie was going on and on about Usumacinta and her birds when Pandy realized that Alcie wasn’t behind and to her right, where her feet usually led her. About the same time, Homer realized that he was slowly losing his grasp on Alcie’s elbow. Pandy turned around again.
“Alcie, why are you over there?” she asked, walking backward to face her friend.
“What are you talking about? I’m just walking.”
“You’re walking straight,” Pandy said.
“Very funny,” Alcie said. “I’m just walking . . .”
Homer plucked a nearby torch from the wall and held it down by Alcie’s feet.
There was a left foot . . . and a right foot.
Iole and Pandy both gasped, but Alcie just slumped against the wall, laughing and crying at the same time.
“Osiris. Osiris!” she said, nearly hiccoughing.
A gust of fresh air blew by and they knew that the exit was just ahead.
“Osiris! Oh Gods.” Alcie wept, rushing past Pandy right down the very middle of the passageway, a twirl here and a leap there, and out into the desert night. “Oh Gods! OH Gods!”
Pandy, Iole, and Homer quickly joined her, all rejoicing, dancing, and laughing in the half-moon light. Finally Homer spotted the steam rising from Apollo’s four snow white stallions, harnessed to a silver and gold chariot.
“We only have minutes. We need to go,” he said.
“Right,” said Pandy, straightening herself after laughing so hard. “Dido! Come on, boy!”
She paused.
“Where’s Dido?” she said, realizing that the last time she’d seen him was in Cleopatra’s chamber, surrounded by cats.
“I don’t know,” said Alcie, still running in circles to the left.
