The underworld saga, p.158
The Underworld Saga, page 158
Hip was surprised and felt less afraid as he turned to Epimetheus and said, “You were saying?”
***
Hestie felt like an eternity had passed since she’d entered the national museum in Ethiopia. While two guards searched the building for her supposed little brother and his kidnapper, a third asked the same questions over and over, as if he suspected her. Who was she? Where was she from? Why was she here? Where were her parents? Had she come with anyone else besides her brother? How old was he? What were their names?
She hadn’t been as prepared as she had needed to be. She was young, female, and sobbing. She thought she’d have the guards eating out of her hands—but no.
Apparently, there were more than old bones in the collection. Very valuable art and royal regalia was on display. The guard seemed to think she was working with a thief, which was true.
Again, she said, “Please save my little brother. He’s only five years old, and he’s everything to me!”
And, again, the guard asked, “Why are you here? Where are your parents?”
Finally, Morpheus, in the guise of a five-year-old white boy, ran through the lobby toward her. They threw their arms around each other, putting on a show for the guard.
“Johnny! What happened?” she asked him.
“I don’t know! The mean man ran away and let me go!” Morpheus said in a much younger voice.
Hestie had expected the guard to be relieved and happy for their little reunion, but he screwed up his face and told them to follow him.
Morpheus and Hestie exchanged worried glances. Follow him where?
“Now,” Hestie said, grabbing her cousin’s arm.
They god traveled to the garden outside to look for Hermie.
“Over here!” he said, removing the crown.
The guard from the museum called out to them from the front door, shouting at them to stop.
Morpheus took their arms and god traveled them home. They landed in their living room, where Clifford and Noodle, and even Kitty, jumped for joy.
“Thank the gods!” Hermie said, out of habit.
“You’re welcome.” Morpheus grinned.
Chapter Seven: Pandora’s Jar
T
herese sat across from Than at Demeter’s table. They were alone, except for Cupid, who was stationed across the room near the door. They still wore the magical cuffs on their ankles and wrists, but she’d gotten used to them and barely noticed them anymore.
They were enjoying a light lunch of cucumber sandwiches, having heard nothing but good things about Hermie and Hestie and how hard they were working to find Prometheus.
“Your mother sounded pretty impressed,” Therese said, referring to their conversation with Persephone earlier that day. “She said they had initiative.”
“They could have sat around waiting for Hecate,” Than said. “It took guts for them to look for Pandora on their own.”
“Well, Morpheus was with them.”
“Not the first time,” Than reminded her.
“True.” Therese shook off the memory of Zeus’s anger when he’d suspected a clandestine meeting between her children and Hades. She sipped her coffee and tried to keep her anxiety at bay. Everything was going to be okay. Wasn’t it?
Aphrodite entered the room, and the look on her face was grave. Therese dropped her sandwich back onto her plate and tried to breathe.
“What’s happened?” Than asked.
Aphrodite sat on the chair between them. “Your children are playing a very dangerous game.”
“What are you talking about?” Therese asked, afraid of the answer.
Aphrodite slapped a piece of paper onto the table, causing Therese to flinch.
“What’s that?” Than asked, looking it over. “Hecate’s location spell? So?”
Aphrodite shot a bit of light from her hand to illuminate the backside of the page.
Than squinted at the writing.
“What?” Therese asked. “What is it?” Her heart felt as if it had stopped beating.
Aphrodite glared at her. “Read it yourself.”
Than handed the paper over. The goddess back-lit the page. New words appeared that hadn’t been there before:
Do not read this out loud.
Do not discuss this out loud.
Prometheus is not your enemy.
“Our children can’t be blamed for this,” Than said. “They had nothing to do with it.”
“Perhaps,” the goddess said. “As for Hecate, well, she’s obviously guilty of treason and will be punished accordingly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Therese asked. “What punishment?”
“The Titan Pit, of course,” Aphrodite said. “But not until after we’ve tortured her long enough to discover with whom she’s collaborating.”
“This isn’t your style,” Than said to his aunt. “You can’t mean that.”
Therese moaned. “Please have mercy on her, Aphrodite. Give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe someone forced her.”
“There must be an explanation,” Than agreed.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Aphrodite said. “The Furies are already getting started.”
***
Hermie searched the entire house for Hecate’s location spell but couldn’t find it anywhere.
“You had it last,” he said to Hestie. “Where is it?”
“I don’t know. I thought I left it here on the table, next to my laptop.”
“Should I go and ask Hecate to write it down again for you?” Morpheus offered.
Hermie frowned. He didn’t like to bother the gods. He’d learned over the years that even though they lived forever, they were always busy. Conflict, drama, and sometimes even important matters consumed their lives.
“No,” Hestie said. “I think I can remember it. Let’s just get everything together and give it a try.”
They took the candles, the silver bowl of water, and the incense with them to the back deck, where their grandparents were waiting on a branch overhead. Hermie hadn’t had a chance to say hello before they tweeted in a frenzy and a panic, asking where Hermie and Hestie’s parents were.
“Zeus has them on Mount Olympus,” Hestie said, and then she and Hermie explained what had happened.
The two red birds were furious that the twins hadn’t told them before.
“We’re sorry,” Hermie said.
“It’s just that we’ve been doing everything we can to free them,” Hestie added. “There’s been no time to lose.”
“That’s no excuse,” their grandfather chirped.
“We didn’t want to worry you,” Hermie finally admitted. “When there’s nothing you can do about it.”
That didn’t go over well either, but Hermie finally turned to his sister, ignoring the chirping as best as he could, and said, “Let’s get on with it.”
Hermie placed the four candles at the cardinal points around the bowl, and Hestie lit the incense and then the candles.
Then Hestie washed the smoke from the incense over the silver bowl, filled three-quarters with water.
“Give me the bone,” Hestie said.
Hermie dug it out of his pocket. His heart was pounding hard, and he prayed a little prayer to Hecate that he’d gotten the right bone.
Hestie held the finger bone to the flame of the candle on the northern point until it caught fire.
“Hand me the map,” she said to Morpheus.
He handed it over to her—it didn’t matter that it was still folded up—and she put the burning bone close enough to catch it on fire, too. Then she dropped both the bone and the map into the bowl and waited for the flames to die.
“Was it clockwise or counter-clockwise?’ she murmured.
“Clockwise,” Hermie said. “I remember it was clockwise.”
Hestie dipped her finger into the water and, as she stirred, said, “Please show me the location of Prometheus.”
A small piece of the map, maybe a square inch at most, popped up to the surface of the water.
Hermie took it from the bowl and squinted in the afternoon light. He didn’t want to read it out loud, because of what Hades had said about keeping Zeus from following them, but he knew there was no way to prevent Morpheus from saying it, too. “Seoul. Seoul, South Korea.”
Hestie clapped her hands. “I’ve been wanting to go there! Jinyoung, here I come!”
Hermie rolled his eyes. His sister’s obsession with K-pop was annoying.
“I’m joking,” Hestie assured him. “Come on, Hermie! I know we’ll be too busy looking for Prometheus.”
“You’re saying that, but do you believe it?” Hermie asked.
Hestie frowned. “You’re a jerk.”
“Guys! Guys!” Morpheus said. “The spell worked. We should be happy, not fighting.”
Hermie decided to come clean. “I’m not a hundred percent sure the spell worked.”
Morpheus rolled his silver-rimmed eyes. “Bro! It worked! What are you talking about?”
“I’m not sure if that bone was Lucy’s—or Pandora’s.”
“What?” Hestie’s face turned red. “Did you just grab some random bone?”
Hermie felt small. “Kind of. Nothing was labeled. It seemed like the most logical choice, but before we go traipsing off to South Korea, maybe we should be a little surer of ourselves.”
Hestie put her hands on her hips. “And how are we supposed to do that, bud?”
“I don’t know yet,” he said.
But one thing was for sure, Hermie thought. If they were to keep Zeus from following them, they had to think of a way to do the spell without giving away the location it revealed. And they had to do it without Morpheus knowing it.
***
Hip winced as his sisters tied Hecate to their torture table. Zeus bent over them, red-faced, with flaring nostrils and gritted teeth. Hades stood beside him, his jaw set, and Ares stood next to him, appearing calmer than any of them. His sons, Phobos and Deimos, hovered to Hip’s right and left, adding to the overall feelings of fear and panic in his chest.
Hecate lay on the table with a blank look on her face, but she spoke to Hip telepathically. “If Zeus suspects we were working together, you won’t be able to use the Dreamworld as planned. Act outraged, Hypnos. Spit on me. Do something!”
There was no way on Earth—or on any planet for that matter—that Hip would spit on Hecate. She’d been like a second mother to him. It took every ounce of his strength not to cry as his sisters unleashed their snake hair and transformed into the monstrous avengers of Tartarus.
He wondered how Meg felt as she straddled Hecate with her falcon perched on her shoulder, ready to peck out an eye.
“Tell us why you did what you did,” Meg said, though it was without the usual hiss in her voice. “Why did you give a secret message to Than’s twins?”
Hecate kept her expression blank.
“Answer the question!” Zeus roared.
Hecate said nothing.
“Why would you betray our king?” Alecto asked, but not in anger.
Hecate remained placid, staring blankly. Hip noticed she was careful to avoid eye contact with his sisters.
“Do it!” Zeus ordered. “Take out her eye!”
Hip couldn’t believe that his father was going to allow one of his most loyal friends to be tormented, and it broke Hip’s heart that his sisters were the ones being forced to carry it out.
Meg hesitated. “Please, Hecate.”
Tizzie cracked her whip and shouted, “Do it!”
Her wolf howled as if in echo.
Hecate prayed to Hip. “You do it, Hypnos! You pluck out my eye! Now!”
Hip knew why and hated to admit to himself that it was a good idea. He had to appear on Zeus’s side if he was to make any headway in the Dreamworld.
Shaking like a rag doll, Hip rushed to the table, conjured his knife, and, biting hard on his lip, carved out her eye with a trembling hand. Blood pooled to the socket, and a long chord of nerves dangled like fish bait from it.
Hecate screamed and writhed with pain.
Tears flowed down Hip’s cheeks. To cover his sorrow, he shouted, “Traitor!”
Hecate spoke to him telepathically as she moaned in pain. “Now offer the eye to Zeus!”
But when Hip turned to give him the eye, Zeus shook his head and wiped away a tear.
“This brings me no pleasure, Hecate,” Zeus said, more calmly than before.
Hypnos got rid of the horrible, disembodied eye by making it disappear. Hecate would regenerate a new one.
At that moment, Hermes appeared beside Hecate, looking as white as a sheep. He bent over her and stroked her black and white hair before turning to his father. “Stop this. I beg of you. She would never betray you.”
“But she has, Hermes,” Ares said. “We have proof.”
Phobos showed him the paper on which Hecate had written her spell. He added light to the back of the page, and the secret message appeared.
“Prometheus is not your enemy,” Hermes read. Then he turned to his father. “Of course, she would say that. You know how she loved Prometheus.”
“You don’t find a secret message to be an obvious act of treason against me?” Zeus shouted, his anger rising.
Hermes turned to Hecate, still stroking her hair. “Did you do it, love? Did you put the message in your spell?”
Hip could see Hecate struggle to maintain her blank expression. For a moment, her mouth twitched into a frown, but she sucked in her lips and said nothing.
“Take out her other eye!” Zeus railed.
Hip could barely contain his anger over what was happening. He dared to glance at his father, who stood emotionless beside Zeus. Hip felt helpless and outraged and was on the verge of giving away their plans to make the violence stop.
Then all the anger he felt toward Zeus for everything he’d done to his family was directed at Hecate when he said, “Speak! Why did you betray our king?”
In his mind, Hecate said, “Good, Hypnos. Well done. Now disintegrate and go find Pandora’s jar, and deliver it to the twins.”
***
Morpheus wasn’t feeling it. The twins had no idea what they were doing, so how was he supposed to help? As he watched Hermie and Hestie bicker yet again over whether they should journey to Seoul, he prayed to his father to let him come home.
He was shocked when his father appeared beside him on the back deck in Colorado.
“Pops!” he cried, as though he hadn’t just seen him hours ago.
“Is that what I think it is?” Hermie asked, yawning.
He was referring to a clay pot that Morpheus’s father was holding in his arms like a newborn baby.
“Pandora’s jar,” his father said.
“Where did you…” Hestie sank into a chair and promptly fell asleep.
Hermie crashed onto the deck—literally—and fell asleep at Morpheus’s feet.
“You couldn’t at least break his fall?” his father asked him.
Morpheus grinned. “He’s fine. Can I come home now?”
“Sorry, kiddo. You’re needed up here.” He handed Morpheus the pot. “Gaia wants this back in one piece, so after you break off a fragment for the spell, be sure to use your powers to put it back together again. Then before you go searching for Prometheus, return this jar to her at Delphi in the cavern beneath the ruins of Apollo’s temple, beneath the oracle’s perch.”
Before Morpheus could ask him why, his father vanished.
“Great,” he muttered. Then to the twins, he said, “Wake up, guys,” as he set the pot on the deck floor and chipped a tiny fragment from the lid.
Hermie groaned and climbed to his feet, rubbing his shoulder, where he fell. “So where did your dad find Pandora’s jar?”
“He said Gaia had it. We have to take it back when we’re done, so let’s get going on that spell.”
Hestie relit the candles—the incense was still burning. “There’s another world map on the table by my laptop.”
Morpheus god traveled and returned in less than two seconds with the map. He watched on as Hestie put the clay piece to the candle flame.
“Ouch!” she cried, dropping the fragment into the water. “It gets hot. I need some tongs from the kitchen.”
Hermie fished the fragment from the bowl. “It won’t catch fire while it’s wet. Can you break off another piece?”
Morpheus sighed and cracked the lid in half. He handed over the smaller piece as Hestie returned from the house with a pair of tongs.
It seemed to take forever for the lid to catch fire, but when it finally did, Hestie used it to light the map, and then, like before, she dropped them both into the bowl. Their heads nearly bumped together as they bent over the bowl to watch. When the flames died down, Hestie dipped her finger into the water and stirred.
“Please show me the location of Prometheus.”
A scrap of the map floated to the surface.
Hermie grabbed it eagerly, looked at it, and then—to Morpheus’s surprise—swallowed it.
“What did you do that for?” Morpheus asked.
“Sorry. I’m starving. I don’t know what came over me. With our parents gone, we haven’t eaten much.”
Morpheus remembered what that was like when he was three and four years old, before his parents adopted him. “Bro, let’s get you some food.”
“What did it say?” Hestie asked before blowing out the candles.
“Um, it said Beijing,” Hermie said. “Beijing, China.”
***
Hermie held Pandora’s jar as Morpheus cupped a hand on his and his sister’s shoulders and god-traveled them to Delphi, to the oracle’s cave.
It had been close to noon in Colorado, but, here, it was approaching eight p.m. Darkness had fallen, and the ruins of Apollo’s temple had been abandoned by the crowds of tourists that usually walked among them during the day. Hermie could recall being a tourist himself not quite a year ago, on another one of those family vacations he’d been forced to take. Luckily, they had god traveled then, too, so he hadn’t had to waste countless hours traveling the conventional ways.
