Pandora Gets Vain (Pandora (Hardback)) (24 page)
“Well, that’s just wonderful,” Alcie said. “Now he’s naked!”
But as they stared, the robes began to glow white-hot; forming themselves into a ball, lifting into the air, and rushing out the large opening at the end of the room, disappearing into the night.
They saw the ribbon of coins, also lying on the ground, become a large centipede and his long black, braided queue, cut from his head, become a writhing black snake.
Alcie saw Iole first, standing against the wall, cradling her broken arm, her mouth open, staring at something in the middle of the room. Pandy was just beyond her, gazing into the mirror, oblivious to anything else.
Passing the few remaining pillars, Alcie and Homer came to a sudden halt.
Standing close to the pile of mummies was a large man dressed in a simple white robe with a beaded collar, a pointed blue headdress, and light green skin.
With a tiny smile, he waved his hand and at once all of the mummies, including those burying Cleopatra, lifted into the air and began swirling in a huge circle. With a flick of his hand, the man sent the mummies, dust, wrappings, dressings, and jewelry out of the chamber through an entryway at the end of the room.
Watching them go, a question formed in Alcie’s mind.
“They will sort themselves out and return each to their own sarcophagus,” he answered her. This had to be Wang Chun Lo, she thought, but the voice was now deep and smooth.
“Now,” he said, “come to me.”
Alcie, Iole, and Homer suddenly found themselves standing before him.
“There is not much time; I shall be brief . . .”
On the floor behind him, Cleopatra, freed from both the curse and her tomb of mummies, began to stir. At once, all attention focused on the queen, now merely a sleepy little girl. She opened her eyes and the first people she spied were Homer, Alcie, and Iole. There was absolutely no sign of recognition and she felt herself grow slightly angry that there were visitors in her private chambers and no one had bothered to help her up. And . . . and . . . why was she on the floor?
Then she looked at the green man and her eyes went wide.
“By all my fathers,” she whispered, terrified. “Osiris . . . my lord! I greet you.”
As Cleopatra scrambled to kneel, Alcie, Iole, and Homer turned and stared at Osiris, great God of the Egyptian Underworld.
Even Alcie had been paying attention in class back in Athens when Osiris had been discussed as being one of the most powerful gods known to man. He was the Egyptian equivalent of Hades, but the reverence and respect for death and the dead in Egypt gave Osiris almost as much power as Zeus in the minds of his own people. He was, Alcie knew, the only deity that the Egyptians would simply refer to as “God.” She thought about the way she’d last spoken to him and waited for the moment he was going to strike her dead.
Osiris threw back his head and laughed.
“I shall not kill you. Indeed that is the farthest thing from my mind. My realms are only for those who have fulfilled their time upon earth and have lived a good and honorable life. Your time is incomplete and you have many honorable deeds yet to accomplish.”
He turned to Cleopatra.
“Go to your bedchamber and sleep.”
Without a word, Cleopatra stood and walked toward a small entryway at the rear of the room.
“And eat something when you awaken.”
Osiris turned back.
“She will, indeed, be the most beautiful of queens. But that will happen naturally. And I know Egypt will be that which she loves most, not her own visage in a piece of metal. What happened here is no fault of her making. She must not be punished. Neither must those whom she has hurt continue to suffer.”
He passed his hand around the room, over all of the servants and the slaves shackled to the floor in front of the platform. Instantly, there was a great collective gasp as sight returned to each woman and the chains and iron rings disappeared. There was so much astonished joy, laughter, and confusion that Osiris had to bellow to be heard. At once, all the women and the sighted slaves looked toward the center of the room then dropped to their knees, their faces to the floor.
“We’ll just leave them like that for the time being,” Osiris said. Then he turned to Iole as if listening to her thoughts.
“My skin is green, inquisitive one, because I rule over the dead. Death is associated with green, rotting flesh.” He paused for a second, then smiled.
“I’m sorry you asked too.”
“Come, come!” he laughed. “Enough silence! Where are the chatterers I had in my tent only hours ago? Speak your minds!”
“Why did you pretend to be Wang Chun Lo?” asked Iole.
“I could tell you that it was because I knew you all were coming, and that I needed to be secretive until the curse upon the queen had been lifted.”
“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.
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.