Pandora Gets Vain (Pandora (Hardback)) (7 page)
Prometheus promptly choked on his food. Hermes whacked him on the back, sending him flying across the room into one of the wall frescoes.
“Oops.”
“Say again?” Prometheus managed, picking himself up off the floor.
“Listen . . . you know Hera sent a storm to dump Pandora into the ocean about three days ago, but it didn’t work, right?”
“Right. She told me about that two nights ago when she called.”
“Well, this morning, just as the ship was approaching Alexandria, Hera made Aeolus send a bigger one. A real killer. And it nearly worked. Pandora hit the water with such a loud
smack,
we practically heard it up on Olympus.”
Prometheus slumped. The thought of his baby girl in pain almost made him weep.
“No, it’s good.” Hermes saw the anguish on his friend’s face. “Uncle P sent a few dolphins to pick up the kids and now everybody’s ridin’ high . . . and low . . . and high . . . so to speak. They’re heading up the Nile. Not too far off the Alexandria mark. Well, about a hundred and fifty kilometers, but that’s not a bad walk, right?”
“It’s not a bad walk for you, fleet-foot. Or even me,” Prometheus said. “But these are little girls. And that’s a big, bad desert from what I remember.”
“Which brings me to my point . . . you gotta tell her to be careful in the desert. Especially at first.”
“Why? What’s so dangerous that you had to sneak down to tell me?”
“Aphrodite passed Hera’s rooms about an hour ago, right? And the Queen of Heaven is napping, but the goddess gums are flappin’. So Aphro changes herself into a fog and floats over Hera’s bed to hear what she’s saying. Between snores, Aphro manages to make out that Hera knows that your girl made it out of the sea and into the river, but she
doesn’t
know all the details ’cuz Poseidon is keeping the whole thing on the hush-hush and Hera can’t do anything to him anyway. So Hera knows the dolphins are gonna drop Pandora at some point, just not
exactly
where. So Hera’s set more traps up and down the Nile. And from what Aphro says, they’re doozies.”
“Gods!”
“Aphro wasn’t able to get any details. All she could make out were things like ‘desert floor,’ ‘piles of bones,’ and ‘chamber of death.’ That sort of thing. Oh, and something about big spikes.”
“Spikes?”
“Yeah—those Egyptians, man!”
“What do I do?” Prometheus cried.
“Uh, gee . . . lemme think . . . um, shells?”
“Of course! I’ll call her.”
“You have to warn her.”
“But it’s daylight! If Zeus sees—”
“Pal, you either risk it or worry that Pandora will end up on the end of a large pointy piece of wood . . . or whatever they use down there.”
“Where’s my shell?” Prometheus raced upstairs to his sleeping chamber. “Where’s my shell?”
“Good choice.”
Hermes looked down at the uneaten ambrosia in Prometheus’s bowl.
“Hey—you left some food in your bowl.” Hermes quieted his voice to a whisper. “Do you still want it? Okay, I guess not. Do you mind if I eat it? Okay, I’m just gonna eat it then. Okay, thanks.”
2:12 p.m.
One hour and innumerable dives later, between the salt water of the sea behind them and the current of the Nile pushing strongly against the dolphins, Pandy was a little surprised to find herself getting sleepy. She knew she dared not actually close her eyes; she was certain she’d lose the rhythm and inhale at the wrong time, gulping a lungful of river instead of the cooling afternoon air. Her arm, nestled against Sigma’s flank, was now feeling almost completely normal, as if the dolphin had taken all the pain of her sprain into his own body, leaving her healed. She decided to risk lifting it just for a moment in order to turn and check on the others. Iole, off to the left, was now chatting slowly and quietly with Omega One. Pandy heard her mention the name of the great teacher, Plato, then Iole gave a loud quick laugh and Omega One tossed his head in the air, giggling as he crashed down into the water.
“She’s so smart,” Pandy mused as Sigma again took her below, and then she smiled to herself; if she couldn’t have the biggest brain in the world, at least it belonged to one of her best friends.
Surfacing again, she turned to her right. Alcie was staring straight ahead, a mellow expression on her face. Her mouth was moving ever so slightly and Pandy thought for a second that Alcie might be figuring out the best way to curse her when this whole adventure was over . . . if they ever got back home. Then Pandy heard a faint tune and realized that Alcie was singing. It was nothing recognizable; probably something she’d learned aboard ship. Alcie glanced at Pandy and waved. Pandy immediately raised her right arm and wiggled her fingers in response without any ache at all. She gazed at Alcie’s two left feet twisted on the dolphin at miserable angles. The idea of the pain that Alcie was willingly putting herself through for the sake of their friendship hit her like a stone in the chest. She didn’t allow herself tears; instead; she felt quite honored.
She craned around to look at Homer, riding surprisingly high on his dolphin. Then she realized that it wasn’t Zeta, his original dolphin, at all. Zeta was swimming close by in formation and as Pandy watched, Homer’s new dolphin took him under the waves but it was Zeta who came up with him again. Then, after Zeta carried the heavy youth for a few minutes, Homer was passed back to the second dolphin.
Far to her left, Dido was curled up on Iota’s back, eyes open and alert. Dido saw his young mistress look at him and gave a short bark, letting Pandy know he was fine before settling his head again on Iota’s flank.
But over the next two hours, even the soft singing and quiet conversation stopped as the dolphins focused all their strength on maintaining top speed. Everyone began to feel the strain of the journey. The banks of the Nile were still lush and green the farther up river they got; Pandy remembered learning that in some places along its banks the soil was so fertile that Egyptian farmers could grow two crops on the same land in one year, almost unheard of in Greece. But beyond the green reeds and trees there were flat expanses of light brown, broken by the occasional light brown hill or light brown mountain. They passed small villages with light brown homes. Every so often they passed enormous light brown buildings with massive columns, not unlike their own temples back in Greece.
Just as Pandy let her mind drift toward thoughts of home, she felt a small vibration in the middle of her back. Then it was gone. And then it began again.
“Excuse me, Um-Pandora,” said Sigma, “but you’re jiggling. Perhaps you picked up a fish when you landed in the water? An eel, maybe? Or a shrimp?”
“I don’t think I . . . oh, I know!”
She twisted to reach her leather carrying pouch, attached securely to Sigma’s dorsal fin. Slowly and carefully, she removed the vibrating conch shell and quickly closed the pouch again. During her next arc above water, she ran her finger down the shell lip and held it to her mouth.
“Hi-Dad-hang-on,” she managed to sputter just before going under again. She could hear her father’s voice coming through the shell even several meters underwater.
“Daddy-I-can’t-talk-now.”
She heard a muffled “Where are you now?” on the other end of the conch.
“I’m-on-a-dolphin-in-the-river.”
“Pandora, listen . . .” She heard him more distinctly this time.
“I’m-okay-I’ll-talk-to-you-later.”
“Pandora, I have to tell you someth—”
“Bye-Dad-big-time-phileo.”
She put the conch back into her pouch.
Some minutes later, she began to wonder what was so important that her father would risk using the shells in the middle of the day, and risk the great Zeus finding out that Prometheus could communicate with his daughter. She glanced about, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
Out of the ordinary.
“Now
that’s
funny!” she thought.
Soon after they skirted by a rather heavily populated village, rousing alarmed shouts from children playing along the riverbank, they came to a long stretch of land on the right that appeared completely deserted. It looked as if it had been a well-used port at one time, and there was an enormous pile of fallen sandstone that had obviously once been a temple.
Sigma slowed again and glided smoothly toward the bank.
All of a sudden, Pandy’s feet touched the river bottom, creating murky swirls in the shallow water as her sandals dragged through the mud. Alcie, Iole, and Homer pulled alongside but Dido, eager to be on dry land, leaped off of Iota and quickly dog-paddled to shore.
“Here you are, Um-Pandora,” Sigma said, the cheery tone returning to his voice. “This is where we have been instructed to deposit you. Your arm is well, yes?”
“Yes, thank you,” she replied, rubbing it instinctively. Not even a twinge.
“Very good,” Sigma said. He turned toward Iole as another dolphin swam up to the group, a short silver object slung around its dorsal fin.
“I believe this is what you asked for, is it not?”
“My father’s sword!” she cried, taking the blade. “Thank you . . . um . . . ?”
“Omega Two,” the dolphin answered.
“Thank you very much, Omega Two.”
“Zeta, Alpha,” Sigma addressed the pair of dolphins who’d borne the weight of Homer for over a hundred kilometers. “Nicely done.”
“Pfft . . . mfft . . . uhh,” was all Alpha could muster. Zeta was too tired to reply and just floated on his back.
“All right, humans—everyone off!” Sigma said. Each dolphin rolled to the right, gently dropping its rider into the Nile.
“Grapes.” Alcie popped her head out of the water. “They might have warned us that was coming.”
As the group stood up, getting their bearings and collecting their belongings, the dolphins began to move toward the deeper center of the river.
“Thank you!” called Pandy.
“Be well, Um-Pandora. Stay safe!” came Sigma’s reply.
“Hey!” Pandy cried. “Where are we?”
“Egypt!” he called as he disappeared.
There was silence for about ten seconds as the group watched the dolphins swim back downriver. Then, as if on cue, Alcie opened her mouth.
“Duh!”
3:17 p.m.
“She hung up on me.”
“She’s in the middle of the Nile,” said Hermes, his mouth full of the last of the ambrosia.
“I can’t believe that she couldn’t listen for just a moment.”
“Yes, Prometheus,” Hermes continued, his finger wiping the inside of the wooden bowl. “She’s an ungrateful child and must be flogged.”
He paused, cleaning his teeth with his little finger.
“Oh, for Artemis’ sake, my friend, she’s having a rough go at the moment. I’m sure she’ll use the shell the instant she gets onto dry land.”
“I have to call her back . . .”
“Look, I’m all for your eldest not getting killed and I know this is important, but just give it a minute. Sustained activity in the same location might draw unwanted attention, hint-hint. She’s still in the water, so she’s okay for right now. And she’s too curious not to wonder, so she’ll call you back!”
“Of course she will,” said Prometheus softly, staring out the window.
“That’s it!” Hermes rose from the floor cushion on which he’d been sitting (popping the seams and squeezing out the feathers). “You’re coming with me. Your daughter’s been gone roughly three weeks and I happen to know you’ve been outside exactly twice in that time. Dirty toga, beard needs trimming. And you have obviously forgotten the verb ‘bathe’ . . . as in ‘to bathe’ . . . as in ‘you need to bathe.’ Your atrium business is going to Hades . . . not that it really matters, since Pandora loosed evil into the world I know orders have been down, but that’s not my point. She’s taken this on and so far, she’s doing fine. And—must I remind you—you have a son who still needs a father. So, we’ll deliver the message to the temple, delight in the awe I generate, get you to the baths so you stop smelling like the Athens waste pit, and get you into a fresh toga. Now shape up and grab hold of my arm. We’re off!”
“But when she calls . . .”
“Bring the shell, for Olympus’ sake!”
Prometheus knew better than to argue; he also knew his oldest friend was absolutely right. He’d been completely neglecting everything for weeks. Food was left uneaten, the news in the
Daily Scroll
went unread, and evening prayers to his favorite gods and goddesses went unuttered. Sabina, the house servant, who was usually deferential (if slightly cantankerous) had handed him a broom two days earlier, telling him to get up off his sleeping pallet and either sweep the entire upstairs or the downstairs, she didn’t care which as long as he was moving. And, worst of all, his son Xander began to have a rather startled look when Prometheus approached, as if the tall bearded man were a complete stranger.
He gave Hermes a tired, acquiescent smile and put the shell into the folds of his dirty toga.
