It was chilly on the first day of spring that year. I remember because I’d just driven Persephone up to earth so she could do her goddess of spring thing and make everything bloom, from artichokes to zucchinis.

You think moving Persephone is easy? Think again. You should see how many bags, suitcases, and trunks I have to pile into my chariot. Not to mention the sandal boxes.

My steeds, Harley and Davidson, are as mighty as they come. But when I shouted, “Giddy up!” and they started hauling that load, both horses turned their heads around and gave me dirty looks.

It took all day, but we finally got Persephone settled into her little apartment in Athens.

“Thanks, Hades!” she said. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to get right over to the orchard to see about the fig trees. Not a leaf on any of them yet.”

“You go, P-phone,” I said, kissing her goodbye. “I’ll stop by Spiro’s for a cup of java and then head home. Good luck with the figs!”

So there I was, sitting in the immortals’ section outside Spiro’s, looking at the ships in the harbor and peacefully sipping my coffee, when a voice boomed, “Hades, you old dog!”

I caught a big whiff of Sea Breeze cologne as my brother Poseidon came striding toward me, his mane of blue hair streaming out behind him.

“I ran into Persephone over at the orchard,” Po said. “She told me I’d find you here.”

Thanks a heap, Persephone, I thought.

My bro Po and I have the same mom and dad. We grew up in the same dark, damp, overcrowded cave of our dad’s belly. But right from the get-go, we were different. I like peace and quiet. Po’s the original party god, always arranging picnics at some temple. Or planning a late-night rendezvous with a bunch of minor sea goddesses. He couldn’t sit still if his immortal life depended on it.

“You gotta see my new sea chariot, Hades,” Po went on. “It’s twenty-four seahorse power. That baby can MOVE!”

One more thing — Po loves speed.

“Great,” I said, glancing back at the ships, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

“You and me are going for a ride, bro!” Po grabbed me by the elbow, toppling my coffee and spilling it all over me. “Oops!” he said. “Good thing you’re wearing red, Hades. Me, with my whites? A coffee spill’s a disaster. Anyhoo, let’s get going. Here’s the part you’ll love — this chariot goes so fast there’s no wave action. Even you won’t get seasick!”

“Wish I could go, bro,” I said, mopping up the spill, “but I’m having a problem with Cerberus. If I go away for more than a day, that dog wants nothing to do with me when I get home. It’s like he’s punishing me or something, so I really need to get back —”

“The mutt can wait!” Po yanked my elbow again. “I’m docked at the end of the pier. Let’s roll!”

I tossed down a few coins to pay for my coffee, and we took off.

Fifty yards away, I spotted Po’s chariot, a low, sleek craft with a pointed bow and white-capped waves painted on the sides. Tethered to the chariot was a team of giant seahorses — a couple dozen of them! Seahorses are usually timid creatures, but Po’s wild-eyed bunch snorted and nipped at each other as they pulled at their halters, raring to go.

“Hop in, Hades!” Po half shoved me into the chariot. The next thing I knew, we were zooming over the water.

Po was right. I wasn’t seasick — I was terrified! I was drosising up a storm. (Drosis? That’s old Greek-speak for ‘god sweat.’)

Salt spray slapped my face, and the speed-crazed seahorses shrieked like demons as they pulled us over the waves.

“It doesn’t get any better than this, right, Hades?” Po yelled over the noise.

I managed a nod. Then I shut my godly eyes and didn’t open them again until I felt the chariot slow down.

With a final chorus of shrieks, the seahorses came to a stop just off the shore of a rocky little island.

“Seahorses beat dolphins any day of the week!” cried Po.

I leaped out of the chariot. Dry land had never felt so good! I looked around. A little grove of palm trees stood at the center of the island, and a pack of seals lay snoozing beside the rocks.

“Where are we, Po?” I asked.

Po shrugged as he waded into the surf and released his seahorses. “No clue,” he said. “I can’t keep track of every little island that pokes up out of my seas.”

Po had just started dragging his chariot up onto the beach when suddenly he froze. He stood there, staring into space.

I knew that stare. It meant, I’m getting a message! Gods get messages all the time. They’re mostly from mortals who are making smoky sacrifices and calling out to a god, begging for something.

Mortals don’t generally call out to me, Hades. What are they going to beg me for, a room with a view at Motel Styx? But I could tell from the dazed look on Po’s face that he was receiving one very serious message.

For a god with a short attention span, Po listened for quite a while. His face grew red, then redder. His sea-blue eyes began to flash with anger.

Finally, he shook his head and blinked. He looked sort of seasick himself.

“What’s wrong, Po?” I asked.

“Odysseus has blinded my son!” he wailed.

“No! That’s awful!” I said. “Uh . . . which one?” Poseidon had dozens of sons, and not one of them was what you’d call a nice guy.

“Polyphemus!” shouted Po.

“What?” I cried. “That’s impossible. Polyphemus is a Cyclops. A giant! A mere mortal like Odysseus couldn’t hurt him.”

Po paced up and down the beach, wild-eyed. “My son wants revenge!” he said. “Polyphemus begged me to punish Odysseus for his vile deed. He wants Odysseus to get lost on his trip home and have the most terrible voyage ever.”

“Uh-oh,” I muttered. As ruler of the seas, Po could make that happen.

“And if Odysseus makes it back home to Ithaca?” Po ranted on. “Polyphemus begged me to make sure that he finds worse trouble waiting for him there!”

“Calm down, Po,” I said. “There must be some mistake.”

But Po wasn’t even close to calming down.

“I’ll send hurricane-force winds to blow his ships onto the rocks!” he roared. “I’ll send giant waves to swamp his ships and sink them to the bottom of the sea! That mortal will wish he’d never laid eyes on my son.”

With that, Po plunged back into the sea and hitched up his seahorses again. He jumped into his sea chariot.

“I know you and Odysseus are big buddies!” Po yelled at me over his squealing team. “But if you help that wily mortal, Hades, I’ll find out about it. I will! And I’ll make your life as miserable as I’m about to make his!”

“Don’t start with me, Po!” I yelled back to him.

“There will be flooding in the Underworld!” Po howled. “Tidal waves! Tsunamis!”

My heart sank. Po wasn’t kidding. He was ready to destroy my kingdom!

“You won’t believe the damage I can do with water!” Po shouted. “Thick black mold will ooze from your palace walls! You’ll never get rid of it.”

“You wouldn’t!” I cried.

“I will!” shouted Po. “Unless you swear to me that you will not help Odysseus.”

“Take it easy, bro —”

“No!” He cut me off. “Swear! Or you’ll be so sorry.”

“All right, I swear!” I shouted. “I won’t help Odysseus.”

“Swear it on the River Styx!” shrieked Po.

I swallowed. An oath sworn on the River Styx could never be broken. But what choice did I have? I couldn’t let him wreck Villa Pluto and the Underworld. I couldn’t let him destroy Odysseus, either. That mortal couldn’t have harmed Polyphemus, I was sure of it.

I glared at Po. “I, King Hades,” I said from between my gritted teeth, “firstborn of the gods; son of Cronus and Rhea; Ruler of the Underworld; god of wealth; husband of Persephone, goddess of spring; master of Cerberus, Guard Dog of the Gates of the Underworld; wrestling aficionado; pizza eater —”

“Get on with it!” cried Po.

“. . . do solemnly swear on the River Styx not to help Odysseus directly,” I added really fast.

Po nodded. He seemed satisfied. He yanked the seahorse reins, turned his team around, and zoomed off over the waves.

I watched him go, my hot-tempered younger brother. Yes, he’d forced me to swear on the River Styx. But buried in my longer-than-necessary oath was a one-word escape hatch.

Directly.

I smiled. Short of helping Odysseus myself, I was determined to do everything within my godly power to make sure that mortal made it safely home. No way was I going to let my blue-haired little brother get the best of me. No way!