Hermes chanted the astro-traveling spell. ZIP! He was gone. Back to Mount Olympus, no doubt. I half hoped that Zeus would give him a good scare with one of his T-bolts, the little liar.
An idea came to me then. “I’ll be back, Prometheus,” I told the Titan as I held the cup of water to his lips. “I have to take care of something right away.”
I chanted the astro-traveling spell, too. ZIP! I landed with a thud in my chariot, startling three of Pandora and Epi’s girls who were looking after Harley and Davidson.
“Hitch up my horses, please!” I told them. “Quick! And tell your mom and dad I’ll be in touch when I can.” The girls expertly hooked Harley and Davidson to my chariot. I grabbed the reins. “To the Underworld, steeds!” I cried. “And step on it!”
Those horses left a trail of smoke as they sped down to my kingdom. They galloped along the bank of the Styx until they came to an ancient tree. “Whoa, Harley! Whoa, Davidson!” I called, pulling on the reins. They dug in their hooves and skidded to a stop. “Nice going, steeds!” I jumped out of my chariot and gave them quick pats on the neck.
I ran over to the tree. Its branches held an enormous eagle’s nest. That nest was the birthplace of every eagle in the universe.
“Ironwings! Brazen!” I shouted up at the nest. “Come down! I need to talk to you!”
A feathered head peered out of the nest. A minute later, a mighty bird flew down and perched on a low branch.
I switched my brain into a godly mode called CCC—which is short for Creature Communication Channel. It’s a way we gods have of communicating with any sort of animal, from flea to whale. I could use it to scold Cerbie about his barking. Or to tell Harley and Davidson which way to go. But with my dog and my steeds, I try to keep it simple. A command of “Sit!” A clear “Giddyup!” It’s better that way.
But to the eagle, I thought these words: Greetings, Brazen.
I greet you, Lord Hades, thought Brazen. Ironwings is out picking up our dinner. Anything I can help you with?
I hope so, Brazen, I thought back. And I quickly told her about Prometheus and his endangered liver.
Brazen opened her great hooked beak and stuck out her tongue. Blech! she thought. Who could come up with such a horrible idea?
Gotta be Zeus, I thought back. But it’s a new low, even for him. Do you have any idea which eagle might be involved in such a nasty plot?
Zeus keeps several of our offspring up on Mount Olympus, mused Brazen thoughtfully. But there is only one who might have agreed to this scheme. That would be Clawd. Brazen shook her feathered head. He was a bad egg, right from the start. Even as a chick, he was sneaky. Always pecking his nest-mates’ feathers and trying to blame one of the others.
What does Clawd like to eat? I thought to her. Does he have any favorite foods?
Hot peppers, thought Brazen.
The superhot ones that grow down here in Tartarus? I thought.
Brazen nodded. Clawd loves them. Even as a chick he liked the spicy bits we regurgitated for him. She cocked her head to one side. Shall I have a talk with Clawd, Hades? Let him know his father and I won’t put up with him going after anyone’s liver?
That would be excellent, Brazen, I thought. But he must fly to Prometheus each day. Just as Zeus commanded. We don’t want to make Zeus suspicious. Instead of liver for dinner, I’ll make sure that he has fresh red-hot peppers from Tartarus. All he can eat.
Ironwings and I will wing up to Mount Olympus right after dinner, Lord Hades, thought Brazen. You won’t have to worry about Clawd.
I’m grateful, Brazen, I thought to the eagle. Very grateful.
It was a brand-new day in the Underworld by the time I got back to my palace. I ran into the Furies in the kitchen. They’d just gotten home from a night of avenging.
“Winged warriors!” I greeted them. “How did it go up on earth tonight?”
“Good, Hades,” said Tisi. “Only one mortal needed our services.” The dozens of snakes that sprouted from her head looked wide awake and eager, as if they’d had a good night, too.
It’s the Furies’ job to hear mortals’ complaints about injustice. And to punish any wrongdoer.
“It was a guy,” said Meg.
“He was sassy!” said Alec. “To his teacher.”
“To Pandora?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Tisi. “He told her she asked too many questions.”
“She does ask a lot of questions,” admitted Meg. “But only because Zeus gave her the gift of extreme curiosity.”
“It’s not her fault!” said Alec.
“So we punished him,” said Tisi.
“He has to write sentences,” said Meg.
“‘In the future, I shall show respect for my teacher’,” said Alec. “Two hundred times!”
“Good punishment, Furies,” I said. “Listen, ladies, do you ever fly as far as the Caucasus Mountains?”
“At least twice a week,” said Tisi.
“Sometimes more,” said Meg.
“Why?” said Alec.
So I filled them in on Prometheus. And I told them about Clawd.
“If I got a peck of hot peppers from Tartarus each week, would you be willing to fly it to Prometheus’s rock on the sly?” I asked.
“Happy to, Hades,” said Tisi.
“Delighted,” said Meg.
“No problem!” said Alec.
That night I slept soundly for the first time in months. Maybe Prometheus was chained to a rock. Maybe I couldn’t save him. But at least I’d saved his liver.
I had a few projects I’d been meaning to do in the Underworld. Now I decided to start. The first thing I did was to put in a pool. When it was finished, I called it the Pool of Forgetfulness. I invited some ghosts to go swimming. I thought it might help them forget their ghostly sorrows. But the water made them forget everything — even how to swim. It was a disaster.
So I built a second pool. This one I called the Pool of Memory, and it worked out much better than the first. I swam in that one from time to time myself.
Up on Mount Olympus, all the gods were getting TVs. So I had the Underworld wired, too. And I got myself a TV for the den. In those early days, there wasn’t much on. A talk show or two. Some cartoons. Mostly quiz shows. I became a fan of Godlywood Squares. Po was often the center square. What a joker! It was a hoot watching gods making terrible fools of themselves. I found watching TV relaxing after a hard day with the ghosts.
One night I was flipping around the dial. I came across a talk show hosted by a mortal who looked a lot like Pandora. She had the same hairstyle. But she was older. Much older. She could have been Pandora’s mother. But of course Pandora didn’t have a mother. I didn’t want to miss Godlywood Squares, so I flipped to it. By the time I flipped back to the talk show, the Pandora look-alike was gone.
I guess you could say I got into a bachelor- god routine. Every day, I walked the dog, made the rounds of my kingdom, and swam a few laps in the pool. Evenings, I ordered dinner from Underworld Pizza, and kicked back in my La-Z- God recliner in front of the tube.
I didn’t realize how long I’d stayed away from earth until I met Hermes’s bus one day. After he got all his ghosts into Charon’s ferry, he handed me a big envelope. Fancy lettering on the front spelled out LORD HADES.
“What’s this?” I muttered as I opened it. Then I saw this:
Please come to a book party
to celebrate 25 years
since the publication of Pandora’s top-selling
Girls are from Marble, Guys are from Clay
“Pandora wrote a book?” I said.
“It’s a huge bestseller, a timeless classic!” said Hermes. “Where have you been, Hades?”
“Here!” I said. “In the Underworld. Okay, I’m out of the loop. I count on you to bring me the news, which is clearly a big mistake!”
“Calm down, Hades,” said Hermes. “So you didn’t know that Pandora is a major best-selling author. Big deal. It all started with the classes she taught at the School for Guys and Girls. Some guy told her she should write a book about one of her courses, and she did. It’s about how guys and girls can get along better, work together. You know. Mortals eat that stuff up. That’s how she got her own TV show.”
“So that was Pandora I saw!” I exclaimed. “That whole aging thing mortals do is so confusing.” I looked down at the invitation. “I think I’ll go.”
“Go, for sure,” said Hermes. “It’ll be a blast.”