Chapter 25 #2
following morning. She had just opened Signal to find Luciano when a message from him arrived.
I just had my interview, but I’m not leaving until tonight. Andiamo. Meet you at Hackney Church?
She couldn’t believe that they would finally attempt to find Pandora.
She hoped beyond hope that Mo was tied up in interviews and wouldn’t try to meet up with her.
After a quick glance around to make sure she wouldn’t be followed, she walked a few blocks away from the hotel, found a black cab stand, and set her location to her room.
She had just climbed into the car while giving directions to the driver when someone stopped her car door from shutting.
It was Sophie. The goddess settled in next to Aida, unzipped her brown leather jacket, and waved a hand at the plexiglass
between them and the driver.
“He won’t hear us now. A little bird named Yumi prayed to me. You can take that mask off.”
Aida pulled off her mask. She could hardly contain her relief at seeing Sophie. “I’ve been trying to reach you for months.”
Sophie’s expression softened. “I know. But my attention has been . . . divided.” She sighed, and for the first time, Aida
noticed the weariness in her eyes—an exhaustion that seemed ancient. “I’ve had no luck finding Effie, and the pandemic has
torn open more cracks in the world than you can imagine. I’ve been working to hold back forces that seek to exploit the chaos.
It’s like trying to plug holes in a sinking ship, and I’m running out of hands.”
Aida’s heart sank, but Sophie’s presence offered some comfort. “I just thought—I thought maybe you’d given up on us.”
“Never,” Sophie said firmly. “But gods are not all-powerful, Aida. Even we face limits. There are things I must tend to that
you wouldn’t understand, battles I have to fight to keep some semblance of balance in the world. But let’s worry about what
we can attempt to control. Yumi said you were going to meet Pandora?”
“We’re going to try. Are you coming with us?”
She shook her head. “No, I explained already. I cannot directly interfere with her. You must do your best to convince her
to release the happiness. Do you have the key?”
Aida pulled out her phone and showed Sophie the image. The meander shifted slightly with a bright blue pulse, as though anxious
to connect to something.
“Good. I don’t think you will have an easy time of it, to be honest. She’s bound to know nothing about her situation.
There could be guards in the neighborhood watching her, but they are likely to be mortal.
My aegis will conceal your true nature. You’ll appear as friendly and harmless or may not even be visible to them at all. ”
Aida had been worried about that but figured she and Luciano would take their chances and figure it out when they arrived.
“What if she doesn’t want anything to do with us?”
“Tell her you are friends of Hephaestus. That should get you in the door. Then, show her that Greek key. She’ll recognize
it. She may ultimately not help you, but she should at least listen to what you have to say.”
That didn’t exactly answer Aida’s question, but she shifted attention to what worried her more. “Can you keep Mo from finding
me? I set my phone location to my room, but what if he wants me to meet him somewhere in the hotel? Then he’ll know I’m not
there.”
Sophie gave Aida a thoughtful look. “Why do you think he would be looking for you?”
“I think he sees me as a newfound friend.”
At that, Sophie burst out laughing, an emotion Aida had not yet seen from the goddess of balance. “Now, that’s not what I
expected you to say,” she said, sobering. “This is not a man with friends. Are you sure?”
Aida nodded. “I think in this he’s genuine.” She tried to explain the situation the best she could.
Sophie drummed her fingernails on the car’s armrest, considering. “This is interesting.” She gave a huff. “My dear brother
must be softening a bit. Perhaps he’s understanding the importance of balance, after all. Maybe we can use this to our advantage.”
She put a hand on Aida’s arm. “But you’re right. His interference when you’re attempting to connect with Pandora would not
be good. I’ll tell you what. I can’t keep him from finding you if he really wants to, but I can distract him. I may need him
to come meet me urgently in Christchurch.”
“New Zealand?”
“A woman who knows her geography. Brava.” The car pulled up near the Anglican church in the heart of Hackney.
“Don’t worry about the fare,” Sophie said as they exited the car.
She gestured with her chin toward the corner where Luciano waited.
He hadn’t seen them yet. “There’s your boy.
Go on. I’ll take care of Mo.” She strode off in the other direction.
Aida replaced her mask and headed toward the corner. It took everything she had not to run to Luciano, but when he saw her,
he came swiftly toward her and swept her up in his embrace.
“These masks are a bother,” he said when he set her down again. “I wonder if Sophie’s protection extends to the virus.”
Aida could have kicked herself. “Damn it, I should have asked!” She relayed the details of the conversation in the taxi. Luciano
looked around them as she talked.
“There they are,” he said, tilting his head down the street. “The men on the bench there, staring at that apartment building.
The one next to that old brick building with the red doors.”
Aida recognized the red doors from Google Maps. They sported a green sign that read Public Mortuary. It didn’t look like it
was in use, and for that, she was glad.
“Sophie said they won’t notice us. I guess we have to try.”
“Andiamo.” Luciano held out his arm for Aida to take.
They crossed the small green in front of the church toward the morgue and the flats, purposefully avoiding eye contact with
the men on the bench. When they reached the gated courtyard entrance, Aida hesitated. There were no names on the buzzer panel,
just numbers. “How are we supposed to—”
Luciano smirked and pressed a random button. When someone answered, he quickly said, “We’re looking for Helen Harrow.”
“That’ll be number six.”
Luciano hit the number six button, and a long moment later, a crackly voice came across. “Hello?”
“Hi, Helen, we’re friends of Hephaestus.”
There was another long pause, and then the door clicked open.
Luciano grinned and held it wide for Aida.
As the door closed behind them, she risked a look at the men on the bench.
As Sophie said . . . they didn’t seem to have noticed her and Luciano at all.
They were chatting and laughing at something down the street.
Pandora met them at the door, three floors up. She appeared to be in her early thirties, with long wavy auburn hair that softly
framed her face, bringing attention to the dark brown eyes above her mask. She wore a simple brown skirt and a cream-colored
shirt that seemed decades out of style. “Who are you?”
Aida realized they hadn’t discussed what they should tell Pandora about them. If they gave their real names, would she tell
MODA?
“I’m Luciano, and this is Aida,” Luciano said, rendering Aida’s worry moot.
Behind the mask, Aida gave Pandora a weak, unseen smile. “We have something important to talk to you about.” She held up the
glowing blue image of the meander.
Pandora gasped. “Please, come in.” She pulled off her mask. “You can remove yours,” she said. “I don’t know why, but because
that—” she pointed at the meander “—is familiar. I feel like I should trust you, but only a little.”
She led them into a small but tidy apartment devoid of much decoration. She indicated they should sit on the gray love seat
near the window and went to the kitchen, whistling a happy tune. A few minutes later, she returned with a teapot and mugs.
“I don’t know why you’re here or where you got that picture, but something tells me it’s important, so it must be. Please
explain.” Her accent was mostly British, but the rhythm of her speech was off—words spaced just a little too carefully, inflections
borrowed from places far beyond England’s borders.
Aida looked at Luciano and then back to the woman. “Oh, where to start? Do you know the story of Pandora?”
“Pandora’s box?” she asked, an eyebrow lifting.
“I think it was a jar, but yes,” Luciano said.
Her eyes widened. “Yes, it was a jar! A terra-cotta jar . . .” Her voice trailed off, her excitement muted, as if she were
trying to reconcile this detail with the reality she knew.
“What else do you know of the story?” Aida asked.
Pandora knitted her brow and wrung her hands, trying to remember. “There was a Titan. And punishment. And foolishness.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Luciano affirmed, nodding encouragingly. “There were two Titans, Prometheus and Epimetheus. They oversaw
creating life on earth. Epimetheus created the animals and gave each a form of protection, but when he came to man, he was
out of protection to give them. Prometheus decided to steal fire from the gods to give to humanity, which greatly angered
Zeus, the king of the gods. As punishment, Zeus ordered Prometheus to be chained to a rock, and an eagle would pick out his
liver every day, but every day it would grow back.”
“How dreadful,” Pandora exclaimed, her brow furrowing, the weight of the story clearly unsettling her.
“Very dreadful,” Aida agreed. “But Zeus wasn’t done. He asked Vulcan, I mean, Hephaestus, the god of craftsmanship, to create
Pandora as the first woman on earth. Zeus gifted her with a jar filled with all the evils of the world—a jar she was explicitly
told never to open. Then, he offered Pandora to Epimetheus. Prometheus had warned his brother not to accept gifts from the
gods, but Epimetheus was so taken by Pandora’s beauty that he immediately married her. It was a test of sorts, a gift meant
to bring about man’s downfall for accepting fire. However, it was also a gift that contained something else.”