I’d been away almost a year, and was itching to get back home. Kingdoms don’t run themselves, you know. And when I’m not around, things in the Underworld have a way of going wrong.

Take King di Minos. He’d been king of Crete. That seemed like a big job, so when he showed up in my kingdom, I made him a judge. He ruled over the Underworld Courthouse and decided where each ghost should spend eternity. He’s supposed to send the ghosts of the good to peaceful Elysium, the ghosts of the not-so-good to the Asphodel Fields, and ghosts of the wicked to fiery Tartarus. But when I’m not there? Di Minos totally slacks off. If he’s in a bad mood, he sends all the ghosts to be fried in Tartarus. If he’s feeling jolly, he’ll send them all to Elysium. It takes me forever to get it all sorted out.

You’d think my two lieutenants, Hypnos, god of sleep, and his brother, Thanatos, god of death, could carry on for a while when I’m away. But if too many ghosts show up, they get all flustered, and instead of taking action to solve the problem, they take naps.

As you can imagine, when I got back to the Underworld after being away for so long, I had my godly hands full. But dealing with ghostly problems was easy compared to what I was going through with the Guard Dog of the Underworld. For days, Cerberus wouldn’t even look at me, not with any of his six big brown eyes.

Did Cerbie feel unloved? I began brushing him twice a day to show I cared. His coat shone, but he still wouldn’t make eye contact.

I thought back to one of the scrolls I’d read at the library in Athens: Feed Your Dog Right by Norma Cookies. So I cut out the cookies and treats.

The looks Cerbie gave me at his usual treat times weren’t pretty. And depriving that dog of his cookies only seemed to make things worse.

Could Cerbie’s sudden behavior change be the result of some rare vitamin deficiency? I bought VitaPup Powder and made him Poochie Smoothies.

He turned up his noses.

Had Cerbie developed a food allergy? I tossed out his old kibble and switched that dog to Mighty Meaty Feasty. Three bowls for breakfast and three more for dinner were insanely expensive. I’m god of wealth, so the money wasn’t a big deal, but even Mighty Meaty Feasty didn’t do the trick. The next time I ZIPPED away to see about Odysseus, that dog howled louder than a kennel full of lovesick beagles.

* * *

I ZZZZIPPED around the Aegean Sea for a couple of days, searching for Odysseus. I finally found his ship anchored off an island covered with lots of flowering trees and bushes. P-phone had once told me about this flower-filled island, and how it was home to some minor goddess. But which one? I couldn’t remember what she’d said.

As I hiked invisibly around the island, looking for our hero, I pulled my phone out of my robe pocket and called Persephone. (Have I mentioned that we gods all have cell phones? Oh, yeah. We invented them long before you mortals came up with the idea.) Her phone rang and rang, but this was a busy time of year for the goddess of spring and she didn’t pick up. I didn’t bother leaving a message.

At last I came upon Odysseus and a few of his crewmen. They were roasting deer meat over a fire. Where was the rest of the crew? I hoped they hadn’t been eaten by some monster!

Unseen, thanks to my Helmet of Darkness, I hung out not far from the campfire to listen in and find out what was going on.

“Shouldn’t your cousin Rylo and the others be back by now, Odysseus?” asked a crewman as he turned the meat on a spit.

Just then I heard rustling in the brush. Another crewman burst into camp.

“Woe is us!” he cried. The poor mortal was trembling and close to tears.

Odysseus jumped up. “Rylo!” he shouted. “What’s wrong?”

A crewman gave Rylo a drink of water and helped him sit down by the fire.

“Tell us what happened,” said Odysseus.

“My twenty-two men and I walked through the woods until we came to a clearing,” Rylo said. “In the clearing stood a stone cottage. Tame lions and wolves roamed around it. They were friendly beasts, and licked our hands like dogs.”

“Some magic is at work,” muttered Odysseus. “Go on.”

“Inside the cottage, we heard a woman singing,” said Rylo. “One of my men called out to her, and she came to the door. She was tall and wore a fine gold-trimmed robe. She invited us inside.”

The poor mortal started shaking again. Something terrible must have happened!

“My men went eagerly into the cottage,” Rylo continued. “But I was cautious. I hid behind a tree, waiting to see what might happen.”

“A wise move,” said Odysseus.

Wiser than you would have been, Odysseus, I thought. That mortal didn’t know the meaning of the word “cautious.”

“I peered in through the window,” Rylo went on. “The woman was mixing what looked like wine and water in a golden bowl. She poured the mixture into cups and gave them to my men, who drank them down. I began to think I had been foolish to stay behind. I was about to enter the cottage myself when I saw the woman hold up a thin wooden wand. She quickly touched my men with the wand, and they all turned into pigs!”

“Pigs?” cried the listening crewmen. “Pigs?”

Pigs. It was all coming back to me now. A minor goddess who thought it was a hoot to turn men into pigs. What was her name? I couldn’t think.

Odysseus frowned. “She must have mixed some potion with the wine,” he muttered.

“My poor pig-men squealed horribly as she herded them out of her cottage and into a pigsty,” Rylo went on. “As they passed my hiding spot, I could see tears streaming down their piggy cheeks.”

Remembering it all, Rylo began to cry. After what he’d seen, who could blame him?

Odysseus leaped to his feet. He stuck his sword into his belt and grabbed his bow. “We must rescue our men!” he cried. “Lead the way, Rylo!”

“I can’t go back!” Rylo wailed. “And if you go, you shall end up in the pigpen, too!”

But of course Odysseus didn’t listen. He stomped off into the woods, leaving his men behind.

My godly head was spinning. I couldn’t help Odysseus, but if I did nothing, Rylo’s terrible prediction would come true. Odysseus could spend the rest of his life in a pigpen. Or end up on a platter with an apple in his mouth!

Now I remembered who lived on this island — Circe. She was a powerful sorceress known to have magical potions that tamed wild beasts and turned men into swine.

Was there any way to make her potions harmless, I wondered? Who knew about potions and antidotes?

I racked my brain. At last it came to me: Hermes.

Sure, he was the messenger of the gods. And he drove the ghosts of mortals down to my kingdom. But he was also god of — well, you name it, and Hermes was most likely god of it. And that included medicine. If any god could help Odysseus, it was Hermes.

I dug out my phone, hit the “anonymous call” button so my name wouldn’t show up on his caller ID, and punched in his number.

“Hermes here,” he answered. “Giant slayer as well as god of travelers, roads, thieves, business, animal husbandry, hospitality, heralds, diplomacy, trade, language, writing — both fiction and nonfiction — stargazing, astrology, medicine, potions, antidotes, persuasion, cunning, athletic events, and gym class. How may I help you?”

Potions? Antidotes? Bingo!

Let me say right up front that I’m not proud of what I was about to do.

“Hermes?” I said in a high, squeaky voice. “You must go to Circe’s island, on the double! The mortal Odysseus needs your help!”

“Who is this?” said Hermes.

I kept quiet.

“Has Circe turned Odysseus into a porker?” he asked.

I didn’t say.

“All right, all right, I’m going,” said Hermes.

Click!

My heart beat like a drum. I hadn’t helped Odysseus. I’d only asked another god to help him. Still, if Po found out what I’d done, he might well turn the Underworld into Mold City!

Seconds later, Hermes landed on the path. I still had on my Helmet, so he didn’t see me watching invisibly as he transformed himself into a young man and caught up with Odysseus, who was walking at a rapid clip.

“Greetings, my friend!” called Hermes in disguise.

“Can’t talk now,” said Odysseus.

“I know where you’re headed in such a hurry,” said Hermes. “To the home of Circe the Sorceress, right?”

“That’s who lives here?” asked Odysseus.

Hermes nodded. “I’ll bet she’s changed your comrades into pigs.”

“Yes!” cried Odysseus. “And I am going to rescue my men.”

“Big mistake!” said Hermes. “She’ll just turn you into a piggie, too.”

Odysseus stopped.

“Only one thing can protect you.” Hermes reached down and pulled up a small, white-flowered plant growing beside the path. “Put this plant inside your robe, next to your heart,” he said.

“With all that dirt clinging to the roots?” asked Odysseus.

“Dirt, schmirt,” said Hermes. “This is a magical plant. If you keep it over your heart, you can drink Circe’s potion and you won’t turn into a pig.”

“Awright!” Odysseus smashed that plant against his chest, roots, dirt, and all. Then he turned and hurried on to Circe’s cottage.

“Good luck!” Hermes called after him. And then ZZZZIP! He was gone.

I stuck invisibly with Odysseus as he made his way to Circe. When he reached the clearing, our hero walked boldly toward the stone cottage. He paid no attention to the tawny yellow lions that ran over to him and brushed against his legs like oversized house cats. He ignored the gray wolves as they trotted toward him, wagging their tails. When the pigs in the sty saw him, they began snorting and grunting, but Odysseus looked away from them and called out, “Circe!”

The sorceress came to the door of her cottage. “Come in, weary traveler,” she said.

Odysseus strode into the cottage, and I slipped in behind him.

“Sit in my silver chair, traveler, and I’ll pour you some wine,” said Circe.

Odysseus sat down while Circe mixed wine and water and who knows what else in her golden bowl. She poured the mixture into a cup.

“Here you are,” she said, handing the cup to Odysseus. “Drink every drop!”

Odysseus downed the potion in a single gulp.

Now Circe tapped him with her wooden wand. “To the sty with you!” she cried.

“Why would I want to go to a sty?” said Odysseus.

Circe frowned. She tapped him again. And again.

“It’s not working, is it?” said Odysseus.

“Who are you to resist my powers?” cried Circe. “Wait. I know. You are Odysseus!”

Odysseus grinned. “So, I’m famous way out here in the boonies, huh?”

“It was foretold that you would stop here on your way home from Troy,” said Circe. “And so you have.” She smiled. “I shall have my handmaidens make us a fine feast, and we shall talk of many things.”

“Not so fast, Circe,” said Odysseus. “First, turn my men back into men.”

Circe sighed. “Oh, all right,” she said.

“And I want you to swear to me that we will all be safe here with you,” Odysseus added. “That you won’t use magic against us.”

Circe nodded. “I swear.” That said, she picked up her wand and a jar of what looked like oil and went out to the sty. Odysseus went with her, and so did I.

Circe dipped the tip of her wand into the oil and began sprinkling it onto the pigs. At once, their snouts shortened, their ears shrank, and their hooves morphed into hands and feet. In no time, they were men again, though they still smelled sort of piggy.

“Thank you for saving us, Odysseus!” they cried.

“We need a bath!” cried one former piggy.

“And not a mud bath, either,” said another.

While the ex-pigmen bathed, Odysseus went back to Rylo and the rest of his men to tell them what had happened. I stuck invisibly with him.

“Your fellow crewmen are men again,” Odysseus announced. “And Circe has sworn not to use magic against us. Come! Her handmaidens are preparing us a feast.”

“Yay!” cried the crewmen.

“Hold it,” said Rylo. “I’m not going to any feast at Circe’s cottage. Before we know it, we’ll all be pigs!”

Odysseus scowled. “I told you we’d be safe,” he said. “Do you doubt my words, cousin?”

“You’re the one who led us into the cave of the Cyclops,” said Rylo. “And look how well THAT turned out!”

“Stay here if you like.” Odysseus turned and led the rest of his men to the cottage. After a short time, Rylo scurried after them.

I watched the men disappear into the woods. Odysseus had extracted a promise from Circe that she would not turn him or his men into pigs. It seemed as if they’d be safe on her island. That meant I could go home to my kingdom for a while.

At the time, even I didn’t suspect that Circe had other ways to work her magic.