Chapter 22 -p1

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"Call the family? You mean the gods?" Odysseus found himself backing up, nearly flattening himself against the wall. "No, that's not a good idea. They don't like me, and frankly the feeling is mutual."

"Well, tough cookies." Hermes said, standing also. "We need Hades' help for sure, if this is Kr—"

"Shh," Athena hissed. "There's still power in names."

"If this is *his* doing..." Hermes said with emphasis, "we need the scythe. Hades knows where it is. And if... *he* has gained enough power to bring sixty mortals through time... we're going to need more juice. I want at least the big three to back us up, and I'd rather have more on our side than less."

"They won't like it, they haven't been together in one spot for almost 2000 years." Athena said.

"I will be extra persuasive," Hermes said, raising the slate again. "One big family reunion, coming right up."

They returned to the farmhouse, and Hermes disappeared into a dark room off the kitchen, where he sat for hours talking into his slate, and addressing faces in a screen that Odysseus had originally thought was a mirror. Sometimes, though, he'd go out to the back of the house, and turn something on that triggered a spray of water across the grape vines there.

Into this mist, he'd toss one of the gold coins, and converse with the spray as if having a conversation with a person.

In passing, Odysseus heard Hermes relate a truncated version of his story over and over and over. "Mortals, sent from the past. Please come to discuss how best to send them back. Food and drink will be provided."

Some of the calls were short, and some were long. Hermes wheedled and cajoled and shouted in so many languages it made Odysseus' head spin.

While Hermes made the calls, Athena had Odysseus and the others clean up the house. They made beds, scrubbed floors, washed windows.

Turns out even cleaning came with strange devices and new materials. Eurylochus struggled for a long time with a mop, the handle of which folded up for easier storage, until he gave up and scrubbed the entryway floor on his hands and knees with a rag and a bucket of soapy water. Odysseus joined him, and they worked in silence for a while.

They'd moved on to the kitchen when Polites knelt and joined them. He'd been out in the garden hanging bedding and other laundry out to dry on the lines set up in the afternoon sun.

"I didn't know gods could have so much laundry," he said softly, scrubbing at a spot near the stove.

"I didn't realize that in a world with so many miracles, floors still needed mopping," Eurylochus said. "Captain, do you think the gods will help us?" He asked, rocking back on his heels and keeping his voice low.

"What if Zeus shows up?" Polites' eyebrows creased in worry. "What if he—" He glanced to where Asterion sat in the living room, stacking wooden blocks, which Hermes had purchased for him.

Odysseus looked too, frowning, "I won't let anything happen to him. Or to any of us." He looked meaningfully at his friends, and they all tried to put on brave faces. Odysseus couldn't admit to them how out-of-depth he felt. This was all so much beyond what any of them had ever experienced. All the gods, together? He just... needed to trust Athena and Hermes for now. It was all any of them could do.

Finally, Hermes came out of the den.

"I called everyone I could think of that might be able to help," he called, and Athena materialized from outside.

"Everyone?" She asked.

"As many as would say they could come. We're going to need more alcohol."

"When are they coming?"

"Tonight."

"Who's on the list, specifically,"

"I was able to get hold of Poseidon and Zeus, Ares, Hephaestus, Apollo, Artemis, Persephone. Hades didn't pick up, but I left him a voicemail. Aphrodite didn't pick up, but, I figure she'll come anyway. Demeter will come if Persephone does. Dionysus was screening calls, but, I mentioned booze, so he'll come... Hera—"

"You weren't kidding, you did call everyone," Athena sounded impressed.

"Yep! And they'll be here any minute. The house looks great by the way, but now its time for all of us to get cleaned up ourselves. Odysseus, you're going to need new shoes. Again. Don't think I didn't notice."

Odysseus looked down at his bare feet, still a little scraped up from his run earlier. "I can wear my sandals," he protested. "They're more comfortable—"

"No, you want closed-toed shoes for this party. You never know what may happen, and Aphrodite wears stilettos."

A bath and a whirlwind through the packages that Athena, Polites and Cassandra had gotten earlier in the day, and Odysseus found himself in a white linen shirt, khaki trousers and a new pair of canvas shoes. Athena had made to force a comb through his hair, but Polites had taken it with a smile, and the goddess had retreated, leaving the three men to groom themselves in the bathroom at the top of the steps.

As he had done many times over the past ten years, Polites took his knife and cleaned up Odysseus' and Eurylochus' beards, then took a long look at Odysseus's hair.

"Do we think we should.. cut it?" Polites asked.

Odysseus ran a hand through his hair. It was about shoulder length now, and had a wave to it. It seemed to grow in all directions, and resisted even Polites' careful combing.

"It's fine," He muttered. "We can leave it."

"Cut it," Eurylochus said, taking hold of Odysseus' shoulders.

"What—no I—"


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