“Hades,” said Hermes. “You can’t bring a dog on my bus.”

“I can’t leave him on the riverbank,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. He’s very well behaved.” I sat down behind the driver’s seat and put Cerbie on the seat next to me. “Ready when you are.”

Hermes revved his engine, did a U-ie, and began chugging up the Underworld Highway. I tried to get comfortable. But if you’ve ever spent any time riding a school bus, then you know that’s impossible. Cerbie snoozed for a few hours. Then he woke up, full of pep. He started racing up and down the aisle.

“I thought you said he was well behaved,” said Hermes, shooing him away.

“Maybe he has to go,” I said. “Pull over, Hermes. Let me take him for a little walk.”

Hermes stopped the bus. He opened the door. Cerbie leaped out and took off running.

“Hey, Cerbie! Stop!” I cried. “Come! Sit! Stay!”

But Cerbie ran until he was out of sight.

I ran after him, through the woods, calling and whistling. I chased that dog for nearly an hour. I chased him up the mountain that stands between earth and the Underworld. Why wouldn’t he stop? Maybe he was a barker. But he’d never run away before. He always stuck to me like glue. What was wrong?

Finally, Cerbie slowed down. Then he flopped to the ground, panting in triplicate.

I was panting myself by then. I managed a “Good boy, boy, boy. Stay! Staaay . . .” But just as I reached for him, he sprang up and raced off.

And I raced after him.

He played this little trick a dozen times.

“Cerbie!” I wailed. “Don’t run away from me!”

But he kept going. At last he ran into the mouth of a cave. I followed him.

“Cerbie!” My voice echoed through the cave.

“Rrrrruff!” Cerbie barked.

I couldn’t see him. But I could hear him panting. I followed the sound deeper and deeper into the cave. If I ever caught him, I vowed to fence in part of my yard. I’d never take him out with me again. He’d see what happened to dogs who didn’t come when they were called.

Then, to my utmost amazement, I followed him out of the dark cave into bright sunlight.

Cerbie sat down in front of me, panting happily.

I looked around. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Cerbie?” I said. “Did you just show me a secret shortcut from the Underworld to earth?”

“Yup!” Cerbie barked. He looked very pleased with himself.

“Good dog, dog, dog!” I praised him, patting each of his heads. “Cheese Yummies for you tonight. All you can eat!”

Cerbie had changed my life. From that day on, my trips up to earth took a few hours instead of a grueling nine days. What a pooch!

Just then I remembered Hermes. Was he still sitting in his bus, waiting for me to come back with my dog? I thought about going back for him. But Zeus had sent him to get me. He wanted me, on the double, to solve whatever problem he was up against. Zeus needed me. Hermes could wait. I picked up Cerbie and quickly chanted the astro-traveling spell. ZIP! I landed just outside Zeus’s palace on the top of Mount Olympus.

I put Cerbie down. He spotted Demeter’s little dog, Sproutsie, and ran off to play with her. Just as well, I thought. Zeus was probably wouldn’t let him into the palace anyway.

I started up the palace steps. But at the door, two big, mean-looking guys with shaved heads blocked my way.

“Name?” said one.

“Hades,” I told them.

“Got a picture ID?” asked the other. “An oil painting of yourself is best. But a charcoal sketch will do.”

“I’m Zeus’s brother. His older, wiser brother. He sent for me,” I explained.

The door opened. Zeus stuck his head out. “Hades!” he said. “I didn’t expect you so soon.” He nodded to one of the bruisers. “Call the others, will you, Force? We can start the meeting now.”

Force? What sort of name was that? I followed Zeus into the palace. “Who are those two?” I asked.

“My bodyguards,” said Zeus. “Force and Violence. Come on, Hades. Time to start the meeting.”

“Bodyguards?” I said. “Since when do you need bodyguards?”

“You never know,” said Zeus. “The universe can be a dangerous place.”

I followed him into his conference room. A gigantic portrait of him hung on a wall. Under it a brass plaque read:

ZEUS, ALL POWERFUL THUNDER GOD, RULER, AND C.E.O. OF THE UNIVERSE.

All the Power Olympians began filing into the conference room. (Except for Hermes, who was probably still somewhere on the Underworld Highway.) Naturally lots of Zeus’s kids showed up. Force and Violence closed the big double doors and stood in front of them. Creepy.

We all sat down at the table. Po sat across from me. He gave a nod.

“Let’s get started,” said Zeus. He didn’t seem to notice that Hermes was missing. “Here’s the situation. A few nights ago, I was flying over earth in my sky chariot. Earth is dark at night. Except if a volcano is erupting. Or if I hurl one of my mighty T-bolts and light things up. Or if I—”

“Zeus,” Hera cut in. “This isn’t about you.”

“Of course it is,” muttered Zeus. “What I’m saying is, the earth, which is part of the universe, which I rule—” he glared at Hera to prove his point— “is pitch-black at night. That’s because mortals do not have lanterns or candles or any of those things, because they don’t have fire. Or didn’t,” he added darkly, “until now.”

Oh, no! had Prometheus somehow carried out Part II of his plan? Had he stolen fire for the guys?

“So I steer my steeds in for a landing,” Zeus went on. “And what do I see? I see torches! I see cooking fires! And campfires! And guys sitting around them, toasting marshmallows!”

“Were the guys cooking steak?” asked Aphrodite.

“They were grilling ’em!” said Zeus. “Grilling steaks that, by rights, belong to us gods!”

“How did the guys get fire, Dad?” asked Athena.

Zeus turned to Hestia. “Go on, Hestia. Tell what happened.”

Hestia rose to her feet, rather reluctantly. “A while back, I was tending my hearth,” she began. “And Prometheus stopped by to see me.”

“How did a Titan get onto Olympus anyway?” asked Po.

Zeus turned to Athena and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I let him in the back way,” Athena confessed. “He and the other Titans used to live up here on Mount Olympus. He told me he wanted to look around at his old home. I didn’t think there was any harm in it.”

Zeus nodded to Hestia to continue.

“Prometheus came by,” she said. “He was carrying a big stalk of fennel.”

“Fennel,” put in Demeter, goddess of agriculture, “for those who don’t know, is a licorice-scented vegetable. It has feathery green leaves and a long celery-like stalk, with a big bulb at its base. It is excellent roasted or in soups, salads, and—”

“Demeter!” snapped Zeus. “Enough!” He turned to Hestia. “Go on.”

“I should have asked Prometheus why he had the fennel,” Hestia admitted. “But at the time, it just didn’t seem that strange. Zeus, you always carry a bucket of thunderbolts. Po, you always carry that big three-pronged spear. Demeter, you carry a trowel. So I figured Prometheus carried fennel. How was I supposed to know it wasn’t his special thing?”

“The point, Hestia!” shouted Zeus. “Get to it!”

Hestia sniffed. “Prometheus was very friendly. He sat down beside me, asked how I was. No one ever does that. All the rest of you immortals are always sooooo busy. You pass right by me sitting at the hearth. Half the time you don’t even say hello. But Prometheus stopped. He sat down. He seemed interested in what I had to say,” she added, her voice cracking a bit.

“Tell what happened!” thundered Zeus.

Hestia pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I noticed that Prometheus had set the fennel down very close to the coals. Well, it was in the coals, actually. But as I said, I didn’t think that much of it. And it smelled good as it smoldered. We talked for a while. Then Prometheus said he had to go. He scooped up the fennel stalk, and off he went.”

“I’m still confused,” said Hera. “What does this have to do with the mortals getting fire?”

“I guess Prometheus must have hollowed out the fennel bulb before he came to see me,” Hestia said. “And when he picked it up from the hearth, he must have scooped up some of my red-hot coals.” She sniffed again.

I felt bad for Hestia. She’d let the Titan sweet talk her into neglecting her hearth.

“Now Prometheus has given fire to those stubby mortals he made,” Zeus said. “Now they don’t have to live in caves to keep warm anymore. Now they’re making tools and bowls and beach umbrellas. They’re building houses and grocery stores and bowling alleys. Next thing you know, they’ll be wanting to buy resort property on Mount Olympus!”

Did I mention that Zeus is also the king of exaggeration? Yet he didn’t seem quite as angry about the guys having fire as I thought he’d be.

“Prometheus gave the guys the gift of fire.” Zeus smiled maliciously. “Now I have a gift for the guys.” He turned and nodded to Force and Violence. They swung open the door. “Hephaestus?” called Zeus. “Bring in Pandora!”