Pandora Gets Greedy (18 page)

At once, a vision appeared: Cloacina's cavern at that precise moment. One tick on the sundial after Pandy had hit the Tiber: the water was rising, nearly covering everything, blurring the colored lights in the pools. Varius was gone. Everyone was gone. Only Cloacina
herself remained standing. Submerged below her waist, water no longer pouring from her mouth, but her arms were stretched wide and she was laughing. And staring.

At the dam.

Two enormous blue objects, damming the flow as they slammed up against the stone arch of the Cloaca Maxima—unconscious, waterlogged, and too huge to fit through the main drain.

Iole stared up at the razor-thin slit high in the stone wall.

A single tree branch with three leaves; that was all she could see. Beyond that, nothing but blue sky.

A small bird suddenly landed on the very tip of the branch, cocked its head toward her, then flew away.

In her life before the quest, she hadn't thought much about people who were imprisoned, whether rightly or wrongly, or the state of mind someone might experience while confined to a small cell awaiting whatever fate was to befall them. Her life hadn't been focused on base ideas. She had been very concerned with justice, however, and the concept of fairness: lofty notions of man's humane treatment of his fellow man. She'd simply assumed that more often than not, someone who was imprisoned was, naturally, guilty. Although her
own brain was a mighty and powerful force, in her young age and naïveté, she hadn't fully comprehended that deviousness, trickery, and usury were also part of man's (and the gods') nature. She'd never even contemplated the possibility of herself being jailed for any reason or what it might be like. The whole notion was just ridiculous. Although now, gazing at the sliver of blue sky and recalling all her adventures with Pandy—
everything
they'd done and witnessed—how
could
she be surprised that this was where she'd ended up? It was just one more bend in the road, one more twist in their tale. Only this one was, for her, the last one. Now, Iole was experiencing something far beyond her wildest imaginings and there was only one word to describe it:

Apprehension.

They had left her alone in a cell, with no possible means of escape, to contemplate her end and it was the waiting that was the worst—the anticipation. She almost wished her own death was over and done with because the suspense created by her imagination was unbearable. It almost didn't matter what exactly was going to happen or how torturous her punishment would be; her mammoth brain was working overtime to make it worse.

Dirt.

Stones.

A pit. Light, then growing darkness. Dirt clogging her mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. Choking … no air … gasping … blackness … breathing dirt! Nothing but dirt … only dirt!

Without thinking, Iole yelped and grabbed at her throat. She turned quickly away from the sliver of blue sky and sank down the wall to the ground.

“Iole?” Crispus called softly from the next cell, his manacles clanking on the ground as he moved closer to the wall dividing them. “Iole? Are you okay?”

“Y-yes,” she hiccoughed. “I'm fine, Crispus. Are you?”

“Well, since you asked, one of my wrist manacles is a little too tight, so that's not pleasant. There appears to be a great deal of scraped skin and a little blood, but other than that I seem to be holding up very well,” he answered, then he paused. “Iole, I am so sorry.”

“Crispus, that's the second time you've said that, and I'm afraid I must take issue with it. You did nothing, do you understand?
We
found
you
in the sewers.
We
enlisted
your
help. You were nothing but innocent, brave, and helpful last night. It is I who am sorry.”

“Yes, I understand, but I'm still sorry,” he said softly from the next cell. “I'm just sorry all of it turned out this way. I suppose I can tell you now. Now that it won't happen; ever since I met you, which I thought was
many moons ago and now it turns out
that
was wrong. Anyway, ever since I thought I met you, I half hoped that—in thirty years, when you had finished with your service as a Vestal—that … uh, that you … and I … because I tell you on my honor, I would have waited. Of course that was before I found out that the entire Valerius household has been under an enchantment and you're actually not a Vestal but you
are
from another time and another country, which is very interesting but slightly inconvenient. And you're ten years older than I am, really; which would make me six in your world, which would just be weird.”

Iole smiled in spite of herself.

“Anyway,” he finished, “I had hopes.”

“You're … not the only one.”

“
Really
?” he cried.

“A maiden can dream, can't she?” Iole said quietly. “I never had any thoughts of anything of that sort until I saw you looking at me the other day. You see, that type of thing just doesn't happen to me. Perhaps it was just the berry juice on my lips … or the crocodile dung. Maybe you wouldn't be in such trouble now if I hadn't smeared crocodile dung on my cheeks.”

“No dung,” Crispus said. “Just you.”

Suddenly there was a loud commotion in the front of the prison. A female voice yelled at someone, only to
be barked at by the captain of the guards, who was then screamed at in return. Then there was a great deal of shouting as a group, including several guards in their clanking armor, approached Crispus's and Iole's cells. Iole could hear the captain's voice, furious as he stomped down the corridor.

“This is unheard of,” he shouted. “Why would you need to measure, for Pluto's sake?”

All at once, Rufina appeared in front of Iole's cell. The smirk of delight and disgust on her face went nearly all the way around her head, which was now the size of a watermelon. She had gained so much weight from the enchanted bread that she spanned nearly the entire corridor, from one cell entrance all the way to another on the opposite wall.

“It doesn't matter, you buffoon, what you haven't
heard of
before,” she said, her three chins hanging down below her neck, wobbling as she spoke. “My father is interrupting an entire feast tonight to punish this maiden and her male companion and he's tearing up a very expensive floor to do it. We only want to take out so many tiles. That's why we need precise measurements for both prisoners. Oh, slaves? Come here at once!”

Looking out between the thick iron bars, Iole saw some movement behind Rufina.

“Slaves!” she barked. “Don't add to your punishment; come here at once!”

Again, there was movement behind Rufina and a ruffling of her robes. Then came a few grunts and several sighs. Then Iole heard Alcie's muffled voice.

“A little help, please?” she said. “Excuse me, you … guard? Yes, would you just … just … oh, for Zeus's sake, shove!”

Someone gave a huge push and Rufina's waist rippled across the corridor, although her head didn't move. In that moment, Pandy and Alcie fought their way out from behind Rufina's enormous backside to the cell opening. It was only then that Iole realized that both of her friends were shackled at the ankles with chains so short they barely dragged on the ground.

“Oh, there you are,” Rufina said, her body settling back into stillness. “What kept you? Never mind. Now, Daddy wants precision! I know how hard you two try to be precise and I know how difficult it is for you. Why, just this morning, you both were only moments away from stealing back onto your sleeping cots and not getting caught for the runaway slaves that you are. Except I am infinitely smarter than either of you and I was waiting. I knew, one night, you'd stay out too late and I wanted to be there to catch you. Still don't know why you were soaking wet, but the point is, you're not as
precise as you thought you were, eh? Well, in addition to the death my father ordered for you tomorrow, you have to serve me today. And I want the exact number of cubits for each of your little friends so we don't rip any more of my dance floor than necessary. So go on, get to it!”

Pandy and Alcie waited while a guard unlocked Iole's cell door.

“And if you speak to the prisoner, I'll have your tongues removed right here,” Rufina said.

Pandy and Alcie, who had both opened their mouths to say something low to Iole, shut them again and began to shuffle across the cell floor.

“My friends, Rufina?” Iole said, staring at the girl who was now the size of a Roman chariot. “You had to have my friends do this?”

“Well, what are friends for?” Rufina giggled. “And speaking of friends, you all might be interested to know what happened to Homer.”

Alcie tensed. The last time she'd seen Homer was earlier that morning as they had all dragged themselves—and Varius, who was still without a mouth—out of the Tiber. Varius had run off in the direction of the nearest temple—dedicated to Jupiter, Pandy had said—probably to pray … silently. Homer had given Alcie a quick kiss on her cheek and had sped off toward
Caesar's insula as she and Pandy raced in the opposite direction.

“Just like you two fools,” Rufina continued, “he didn't make it back in time either. And Caesar just happened to be home. The word around Rome this morning is that he was so upset at seeing his prized gladiator, whom he basically stole from my daddy, flaunting the rules right under his nose that he sent word to Daddy and together they came up with a two-part punishment that's a real doozy!”

“You don't say,” said Iole, knowing that Alcie couldn't say a word.

“Oh, but I do! The second part is pretty standard. Homer is going to be put in the Forum with no weapon and three hungry lions on really, really long chains. There won't be enough left of him for the carrion crows!”

Iole looked at Alcie. If that was the second part …

“What's the first part of his punishment?”

“This was my idea and this is where it gets fun!” Rufina cried. “You know how tonight you're going to be buried alive?”

“That's the rumor,” Iole said wryly, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

“Well, once we figure out how many tiles to take up and how deep to make the pit, Homer is going to be the
one doing the digging! Sort of keeps it within your little group—makes it more special, don't you think?”

Pandy and Alcie stopped mid-shuffle and just stared at Rufina.

“You are, without question, so inordinately psychotic,” Iole said.

“Silence! Or I'll have you …”

“You'll have me what? Killed?”

Rufina was momentarily stopped mid-sentence.

“Melania just might have something to say about this, you know,” Iole said.

“Oh, she does,” Rufina laughed. “When she was told what you'd done, who you were found with, she denounced you to the household and went to the Temple of Vesta to pray for you. Reports have come back that she's also tearing her hair out and weeping, but I can't understand why.”

Iole hung her head, realizing that Melania—the one adult she'd met in ages who'd taken an interest in her and cared for her—no longer believed in her. Iole felt as if she'd betrayed more than a sacred trust: it was almost as if she'd betrayed her own mother.

Silently, with only a look to each other now and then, Pandy and Alcie got on their knees—with great difficulty—and used their forearms to measure how many cubits to Iole's height.

“I count three and slightly more than one-half cubits,” Pandy said, turning to another slave who was holding a writing tablet and stylus.

“Very good,” said Rufina. “Now, the male.”

Alcie gave Iole only a backward glance, but Pandy secretly managed to squeeze Iole's arm as she left the cell. They measured Crispus to be between three and three-quarters and four cubits. Then, as quickly as they arrived, they were gone. Only moments before, Pandy and Alcie had both been as close as they would ever be and now Iole knew she would never see them again. And that short time with them had been spent getting measured for her grave.

Iole sank to the ground in the middle of her cell and began to sob. In that instant, she had the one thought she'd never before entertained, the thought that betrayed everything her friendship with Pandy stood for: she wished she'd never come on the quest. The fact that Athens was probably still in ruins, that the world was changed for the worse with evils still in it, and that she was part of a tiny but heroic group so close to putting everything right … none of it mattered. Because in a matter of hours, she would be buried alive.

“Iole?” Crispus called. “Iole?”

But the girl who was always so practical, so logical, and so thoughtful when Pandy and Alcie were
beside themselves with anger, sadness, or frustration; the one of the three who was stoic, calm, and unflappable …

That girl was now beyond reach.

Across the city, far from the gods' insula, Juno sat on a hard stone floor with Hera. Days earlier, when she realized that the other immortals were blatantly lying about Hera's whereabouts and she would have to take matters into her own hands, she swiftly—but quietly—annihilated a small family living peacefully on one floor of a modest insula and moved herself in. Watching the innocent family succumb to death, she told herself it was simply a necessary part of this whole ridiculous business of having to play host to the Greek immortals; that she and Hera would, of course, need their own little nest in order to finalize their plans to become the most powerful deities in the universe. Then she returned to the gods' crowded insula and watched, waited, and listened for the clues that would tell her where her counterpart was.

Now, after piecing Hera back together herself, then dealing with Varius, Cloacina, and “the brats” (she had adopted Hera's pet name for Pandora and her friends), Juno was pounding Hera on her back, forcing the rest of the sour bathwater out of Hera's lungs.