"I don’t know why we have to heal both bodies. The mortal woman you’ve chosen for Achilles is going to take Polyxena’s body. Shouldn’t we just send the other on her way to wherever it is dead modern mortals go?” Athena said.
Venus shook her head in disgust. “Athena, you need more girlfriends. We’re going to zap a modern mortal into an ancient princess’s body and ask her to do our bidding. Oh, and, by the way, that little memory she has of an accident where she and her best friend are killed? Well, yes, that’s unfortunate, but whatever. We needed her, so her best friend is toast. She should just go about our business and forget about her.”
“The problem with that is?” Athena said. “And what does toast have to do with it?”
Venus rolled her lovely eyes. “It’s just an expression. A modern mortal expression that means done, over with.”
“And the problem with asking one mortal do so something for us without including her friend is that modern mortal women are different than ancient women,” Hera explained patiently. “They’re independent and smart and not used to bowing down and taking orders. Actually, now that I think about it, they’re a lot like goddesses.”
“Exactly what I’ve been trying to tell her,” Venus said.
“I don’t think I like that.” Athena frowned.
“I don’t think you’re going to like the lines that will start appearing on your face if you don’t stop frowning so much,” Venus said.
“And I don’t think you’re going to like what happens if you rouse the anger of the Goddess of War,” Athena said.
“Enough!” Hera’s voice shot out, ringing powerfully against the walls of her temple. Then she closed her eyes briefly and drew a deep breath. “Your bickering is getting in the way of what we must do here. More importantly, it’s giving me a headache.” The Queen of the Gods glanced at little Eleithyia, who was cowering in a corner. “And you’re scaring my priestess, who has already had enough stress for one day.”
Venus and Athena muttered apologies.
“Now, let us get this done.” Hera gave the two goddesses one more severe look before turning to Eleithyia. “We’ll need a ceremonial goblet filled with the temple’s very best wine. Can you get that for me?”
“Of course, Goddess!” Recovering quickly now that she was given a familiar task, the young priestess scampered off, returning only moments later with a golden goblet filled with rich red wine.
“Very good.” Hera nodded her approval. Then she approached the bodies of Polyxena and her maidservant, motioning for Venus and Athena to join her. “Bring the goblet here, Eleithyia, and stand before the bodies. When I begin the healing spell, raise the goblet so that the wine can be filled with our power. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Goddess.” The young priestess moved into place.
“Let us join in a circle of divine power.” The three goddesses solemnly clasped hands around the fallen princess of Troy and her servant. “Concentrate on the wine in the goblet,” Hera told them. Then she cleared her throat and recited the spell:
“Joined together with a single mind,
goddesses three our powers we do bind.”
Eleithyia gasped as the wine in the goblet she had lifted above her head began to glow with such a brilliant light that it shined in reflection off the distant domed ceiling of the temple.
“Standing here bathed in conjured light,
empower this wine with our combined might.
The gift of healing is what we ask,
fruit of the vine, accept this as your task.”
“It is hot!” Eleithyia cried, but she didn’t let loose her grip on the glowing goblet.
“It is the heat of the breath of life. Quickly, child, pour the wine within the lips of the princess and her servant,” Hera said.
Eleithyia immediately did as her goddess commanded. She bent and carefully poured half of the wine into Polyxena’s slack and bloody lips, and the other half into the young maidservant’s still mouth.
“I don’t know if this is going to work.” Venus frowned as most of the wine ran down the pale cheeks of dead women. “Maybe we should—”
Polyxena gasped and then drew a deep, almost painful sounding breath. Shortly after, Melia’s chest began to rise and fall, too.
“Keep focused,” Hera reminded them before completing the spell.
“Wounds mend—health return
the spark of mortal life within them burn!”
As the goddesses and the priestess watched, the terrible gash on Polyxena’s head faded, and then disappeared at the same time Melia’s gaping chest wound shimmered and closed so that the two women lay perfectly healed, though the only movement in their eerily still bodies was their slow, steady breathing.
Eleithyia fell to her knees and bowed her head. “It worked! You have healed them.”
Hera touched her priestess’s cheeks softly. “Only their bodies, child. Their souls are journeying to the Elysian Fields. They are but empty shells.”
“Well, it just so happens that I have two mortal souls in desperate need of shells,” Venus said. “Shall I get them?”
“Yes, but Athena and I need to make our visits to Agamemnon and Thetis first.”
Athena frowned at the newly healed bodies. “Shouldn’t you do something about all that blood and such before you put the mortal souls in there? I’m no expert on modern mortals, but I do believe that any woman would be quite upset awakening to this mess.” The goddess made a general gesture at the blood-spattered temple.
“Ugh. As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right.” Venus sighed. Then she fluttered her fingers absently at Athena and Hera. “Go on, don’t worry about this. I’ll conjure some satyrs to take care of it.”
“Satyrs?” Hera said. “Aren’t they rather messy?”
“Of course—nothing makes a mess like a rutting satyr, which is why they’re so good at clean-ups. They’re used to it.”
Hera and Athena gave Venus twin looks of confusion.
“You don’t think I clean up after all those orgies, do you?” Venus shook her head in disgust. “I’m their goddess, not their mother.”
Athena snorted.
“Let’s leave this to Love, shall we?” Hera guided Athena from the room before the goddesses could start bickering again. “Have the little beasts clean quickly—this shouldn’t take long,” she called back over her shoulder.
“Why is it that Love always gets stuck with the mess?” Venus muttered.
“Could it be because love can be so messy?” Eleithyia asked with a sweet, innocent smile.
“Darling, you’re obviously new to this whole priestess thing, so I won’t blast you into nonexistence for calling me messy.”
Eleithyia gasped and looked like she was going to burst into tears.
Venus sighed. “Not to worry. That was just a little divine humor. Let’s get the satyrs to work, shall we?” The goddess glanced down at the two bodies that awaited souls. “And while I’m thinking about it I better come up with some new clothes for these two. All that blood will never come out…” She continued to mutter to herself as she conjured an entire herd of industrious satyrs and began putting the temple to order.