Pandora Gets Vain (Pandora (Hardback)) (3 page)
“I’ve been roasted by the best,” she said. “Your little fire doesn’t scare me.”
The cook, whose long nose gave him a somewhat rodentlike appearance, screwed up his face and chased her out into the passageway. But she kept coming back. Finally, partly out of respect for the fact that she was a paying passenger but mostly because she reminded him of his daughter back in Greece, he allowed her to sit in the corner and try to convince him exactly why he should spare the animals. She’d done a good job for the first three days, and together they created some wonderful things with chickpeas and lentils. But just this morning, Iole had awoken to the smell of . . . goat smoke. After racing down the passageway, she had stood teary eyed at the galley entrance. The cook looked up at her in the doorway. At first he tried to bluff and joke his way out from under her gaze, but then he became angry.
“It’s my job, Iole!” he said.
Iole said nothing in return. Finally, the cook just broke down and cried.
“I’m sorry, honey. But I’m running out of ideas and after battling the storm yesterday, the crew wants meat!”
When Pandy and Alcie came into the galley, they found Iole and the cook sitting at the table. He was staring off into space, twitching slightly, and she was writing her mother’s rice recipes on sheets of papyrus, every so often patting his trembling hand.
“Iole, you need to see this,” Pandy said.
“What?” asked Iole.
“Come on. It’s a surprise,” said Pandy.
“Figs! She won’t tell me either,” said Alcie.
The three girls left the cook, and Pandy led the way toward the stairs.
“I don’t want to go back up there!” Iole said. “In fact, after that storm, I intend to remain below deck for the rest of the voyage, thanks very much.”
“Just trust me, okay?” said Pandy, forcing Iole ahead of her up the stairs and onto the deck.
“Look!” said Pandy, pointing to the island, now coming clearly into view.
“Oh! Oh!” exclaimed Iole, rushing to the railing she’d nearly slipped through the day before.
“I was pretty sure you’d want to see it,” Pandy said.
“What?” said Alcie. “It’s an island. The sea is full of ’em!”
“Oh, Pandy . . . ,” Iole sighed.
“Okay . . . yet another thing that I’m so totally left out of,” said Alcie.
“I’m sorry, Alcie,” said Iole, turning to her. “But that’s Crete. That’s my home.”
“It’s been over five years. How do you know?” asked Alcie.
There was a long pause.
“I’d know it in my sleep,” Iole said softly.
She paused again, leaning forward into the railing, her eyes searching the distance.
“There’s the small point where my dad used to take the family on day trips—picnics and things. Just beyond that is a little bay, and after that is the forest where my grandmother is buried.”
“Where’s your grandfather?” asked Alcie.
“He’s a rock.”
Pandy and Alcie whipped their heads around in unison to look at Iole.
“Hades turned him into a rock because he swore once and used Hades’ name. Apparently it was really, really terrible. Something like how he didn’t believe in the underworld, and even if he did, when he died he wasn’t going to pay Charon to ferry him across the river Styx. Mom says he yelled about having to pay so much in taxes when he was alive, that he wasn’t going to pay anything else when he was dead. So Hades said something like, ‘Fine, then you just won’t go.’ And turned him into a boulder. Mom and Dad kept him in the courtyard at first. But when Grandma died, they used him to mark her gravesite. So, in an obtuse way, they’re together.”
Pandy and Alcie had absolutely nothing to say. But the two of them couldn’t help but think of every time they had mentioned the gods’ names in vain.
The three girls remained at the railing, watching as the ship sped past the western tip of Crete. Suddenly, they heard a loud thud far across the deck, inside the passageway entrance. Turning around, they saw a large head covered in blond curls poke out into the sunlight.
“Oh no,” said Pandy.
“Oh my,” said Iole.
“Oh yes-s-s!” said Alcie.
“How does he
always
know where we are?” Pandy said, the three girls turning their faces back out to sea.
“It’s not that big of a ship, Pandy. There aren’t that many places to hide,” Iole replied.
“Who wants to hide anyway?” said Alcie, now sporting a wide grin . . . which on Alcie was slightly terrifying.
“Tell me again why he has to be here?” said Iole.
“I’ve told you a hundred million times. I told you right after it happened back in Crisa. The man who booked our passage to Egypt wouldn’t sell me the tickets unless his son came with us. As protection. The man didn’t think that three girls traveling alone was very wise,” Pandy said.
“Smart man. So totally smart,” said Alcie, watching the blond head, now attached to a large, well-muscled body, searching for the three girls.
“And you didn’t tell him that Dido was protection enough?” asked Iole.
“I did. He thought that was very funny,” said Pandy. “He said he just wouldn’t feel right; that since he could only get us onto a cargo ship, if anything happened, he’d feel responsible. That’s why his son would be the perfect choice. He’s young, he’s strong . . .”
“He’s completely cute,” said Alcie.
“. . . and his dad wants him in the family export business so he needs to get used to being on a ship,” Pandy summed up. “He’s not that bad. And he’s stopped sleeping outside our cabin door, so at least we’re not tripping over him anymore.”
The blond-headed body was now lumbering up to the three girls.
“Here he comes,” said Iole, quietly, as a large shadow blocked the sun.
Pandy and Iole slumped. Alcie straightened up.
“Hi, Homer,” said Alcie brightly.
7:58 a.m.
“Uh . . . hi,” said a gruff voice as they stood at the railing, Crete now fading into the distance.
They turned and craned their necks upward to stare at the blond-haired, blue-eyed, six-foot-two wall of muscle who was, for the duration of the voyage, their protector.
Pandy’s thoughts flashed to the first time she’d seen Homer, only a few days earlier. Entering the shipping agency back in Crisa to inquire about cabin rates, she’d found the red-faced proprietor yelling at Homer, who was almost on the verge of tears.
“You
will
go to Alexandria and you
will
deliver these parcels to your uncle and I will hear no more about it!” yelled the older man, his loose brown teeth knocking and clattering in his mouth as he spoke.
“But Dad,” said Homer. “I just came back from Ethiopia!”
“And why did you come back? Because you couldn’t hack it in gladiator school! So you dropped out. I scrimp and save for years but you ‘don’t like it’ in the arena. At sixteen you think
you
know what’s best, so you just quit!”
“I didn’t want to go in the first place,” said Homer.
“Oh, that’s right,” his father spat. “My son wants to be a
poet
! Well too bad. You’ll learn the family business and like it!”
Pandy had almost coughed up a lung as she exclaimed loudly, “Ex-
cuse
me!”
Both men had turned, seeing her for the first time.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but I’d like to ask . . . um . . . inquire about going to Egypt. Alexandria, actually. How much would it cost to get there? Me and two other people? And my dog?”
The older man’s eyebrows had stood almost on end, seeing a young maiden alone in his offices. Before he would book her passage, Pandy had to answer many questions about where she was from, why she was traveling without her parents, and who was traveling with her. She told only one or two teeny little fibs: traveling with her sisters, tragic death in the family, etc.
“Fine,” the man had said at length. “I have a ship leaving tomorrow. It’s a cargo ship, so you’ll be cramped, but you’ll get there. And Homer is going, so he can look out for you.”
“Homer is not going!” said the boy.
“Homer
is
going,” said the man, turning to his son, “if I have to plant the toe of my sandal where Apollo doesn’t shine! You’re still not too big, my boy . . . Well, yes you are, but I don’t care. You’ll deliver the parcels, have a nice chat with your uncle about the import/export business,
and
watch over this lovely maiden and her sisters on the way. Period!”
Pandy had felt herself blush at being called lovely. The man tallied up the charge and wrote out the tickets and a letter of introduction for the captain of the ship. Pandy paid for the passage. As she left, she’d wondered if she’d actually see Homer aboard the ship and whether or not he’d be manacled. The three girls had spent the night in a small inn, listening to Pandy’s experience in procuring the tickets and then creating a fake history for themselves as they were all “sisters” now.
The next morning, Homer and his father were standing on the appointed dock. The older man had looked strangely at Alcie and Iole, noticing almost nothing but differences among the girls. Pandy smiled weakly, Iole kept her head down, and Alcie was supposed to do the same. But after one glance at Homer, Alcie had decided that the view was better if she looked up.
Homer said nothing. He didn’t even acknowledge the girls and he pretended not to notice when Dido licked his hand.
The first day out, as the captain carefully negotiated the straits between the Gulf of Corinth and the Ionian Sea, Iole caught Homer as he went up on deck for fresh air and tried to talk to him. But he didn’t even grunt at her and Iole decided he was plainly “simple.” Alcie found him at the railing as she marched from mast to mast, loving the way the sea made her walk straight.
“Hi,” she said sweetly.
“Whatever,” he said, moping his way back below deck.
“I so totally agree!” she called after him. “You know it!”
Now, on this fourth day, he stood blocking the sun.
“So, Homer,” Alcie said, a softer quality to her voice that made Pandy and Iole turn and stare at her with wonder, “how’d you make out during the storm yesterday? Pretty wild, huh?”
Pandy and Iole looked at Alcie like she’d suddenly grown a second head.
“Um . . . I was asleep,” Homer replied.
“Why does that not surprise me?” Iole said under her breath, turning back to look at Crete.
Homer was almost always in his room. Except for the first night, when he’d camped outside the girls’ door on his father’s orders. The girls had spent most of the night talking about their quest, not realizing he was there, until he fell asleep and crashed his head into the cabin door as he hit the floor.
They managed to convince him that, with a heavy bolt on their door, he was free to stay in his own cabin. The girls had been a bit concerned about what Homer might have overhead, but he’d given no indication that
anything
was going on inside his head, much less an interest in their quest.
“Oooh, sleeping! Well, that’s fun too, I suppose.” Alcie giggled and choked on her tongue.
“Pandy,” said Homer, totally ignoring Alcie, who now actually was turning purple from choking, “my father wanted me to, like, every once in a while, see if you guys were okay and . . . stuff. So . . . after that storm . . . like, are you guys okay?”
“Um . . . we’re okay, Homer,” said Pandy, lightly patting Alcie’s back. “Thanks for . . . um . . . everything.”
“Yes,” said Iole icily, “thanks for the timely concern.”
“Cool. So . . . um . . . that time I was outside your cabin, I kinda heard why you guys—I mean, maidens— are really going to Alexandria and about the gods and stuff. And Pandy, I just wanted to say that those girls who opened the box are very uncool. So I won’t tell my dad you lied. Okay . . . like . . . good luck saving the world. And maybe I’ll see you guys—I mean, maidens— later, y’know, around Egypt.”
As he walked away, Iole and Pandy turned to look at each other, horrified at having been overheard, but Alcie just stared at the spot where Homer had stood.
“Great hulking pomegranates!” she yelled, finally clearing her throat. “When we get ashore, he’s just gonna leave us!”
11:02 a.m.
Compared to the magnificent palace up on Mount Olympus, the earthly home of Aeolus, King of the Winds, was puny and insignificant. It was a floating island with no name that drifted with the ocean currents, traveling all of earth’s waterways. Aeolus himself rarely knew where he would wake each day, swirling in amongst icebergs and frozen rocks or passing by islands full of date palms. Yet his island was still almost ten square miles in area and, as Aeolus allowed Notus, the South Wind, freedom to blow lightly at all times, the air was always fresh and the open rooms always swept clean. Small birds that could not scale the heights of Olympus fluttered and played on the warm breeze. Plants, flowers, and trees bent and swayed joyfully, creating ever-changing tapestries of light and shadow. Elaborate sets of wind chimes were placed around the gardens and throughout the house so the tinkling of glass beads, gold cylinders, or wooden pipes delighted the ear with music.