Pandora Gets Lazy by Carolyn Hennesy Page A

there’s—uh—something you might want to see.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
On Mount Olympus
    â€œOw!”
    There was a crash of glass, followed by a bark, then a yelp . . . then soft whimpering. A pungent perfume filled the hallway.
    Demeter, who normally hurried anyway when summoned to Hera’s apartments, now broke into a run, shaking spring grasses and flowers loose from her hair.
    â€œI will teach you!” Hera’s voice ricocheted off the marble walls. “I will show you just what happens to mangy, flea-bitten—”
    â€œHera! What . . . ?!” Demeter cried, arriving at the large entryway just in time to see Hera send the shards of glass from the shattered perfume bottle flying upward, cementing them into the ceiling.
    The Queen of Heaven was standing in the middle of her salon, a small tear in her blue robes about halfway up her rather sizable leg. She raised her left arm, her index finger twirling the air. In a corner of the room, Dido was pinned on his belly to the wall, spinning around in time with Hera’s finger. As Demeter watched, Hera forced Dido up the wall and across the ceiling, toward the shards of glass.
    â€œStop!”
    Hera was stunned. Demeter never raised her voice unless it was time for her daughter, Persephone, to descend back down to the underworld to join her husband, Hades. Then Demeter made her opinion known, Hera recalled. But now . . .
    â€œHera, put the dog down!” Demeter cried.
    â€œHe bit my leg!” Hera said, but she stopped moving Dido across the ceiling.
    â€œHera, please put the dog down. You know what will happen if any harm comes to him.”
    Hera stuck out her lower lip and pouted for about ten seconds.
    â€œOh . . . fine!”
    With a squeal, Dido dropped to the floor. In a flash, Demeter caused a large patch of soft grass to grow a full meter high right underneath, so Dido fell onto a cushy green pillow. He lay there stunned for a moment.
    Hera made a move toward him.
    â€œHera . . . darling . . . back away from the dog,” Demeter said softly but firmly.
    â€œOh, pooh!”
    Demeter went to check on Dido as Hera, with a flick of her wrist, tore the glass shards out of the ceiling and reconstructed the perfume bottle on her dressing table.
    As Demeter approached, Dido gave a growl; then, seeing it was not his tormentor, licked her hand in gratitude. Quickly he leapt up and slunk into a far corner.
    â€œI’m sure he was only playing.” Demeter turned to see Hera, now standing out in the hallway, arms spread wide, blowing mightily back into the room. Above Demeter’s head, the escaped perfume was collecting into an amber mist, which condensed into a dense cloud and floated over the perfume bottle. After a moment, the cloud began to rain, drop by drop, into the bottle until all the perfume was replenished.
    â€œNo, he was not playing,” Hera said, approaching Demeter. “He plays with you, remember? He doesn’t play with me.”
    â€œWell, you stole him from his mistress. You can’t be surprised that he’s not overly fond of you.”
    â€œI think I can, yes.” Hera sulked. “I take excellent care of him.”
    â€œYou feed him scraps, you don’t let him exercise, and he’s lonely. How is that taking excellent care?”
    â€œI haven’t killed him, okay?”
    â€œPardon me, your generosity is boundless.”
    â€œI just wanted to sprinkle a little perfume on him. He’s begun smelling up my fragrant rooms and I’ll be a mortal slave before I give him a bath. So I just tried to do something nice . . . and he bit me.”
    â€œYes.” Demeter sighed. “You said. Well, it’s over now.”
    â€œHe’s still stinky.”
    â€œWhen all are asleep, I shall give him a bath in my rooms. All right? Will that make you feel better?”
    â€œHmmm . . . I think it will.”
    â€œNow, dearest Hera, why did you summon