Free Quicksilver by Stephanie Spinner

contest over?”
    “Not yet,” responded Paris. Seizing the chance to escape before Hera questioned him further, he bolted and was at Aphrodite’s side before anyone could stop him. The Love Goddess greeted him warmly and asked him something that none of us could hear. He responded with a shake of his head, which seemed to please her.
    Meanwhile, Hera and Athena stood near me, seething. The air between them fairly rippled with bad feeling, and I wondered if they’d start arguing again. I half hoped they would—I was still sorry I’d missed their slang fest over the apple.
    But at that moment we all saw Aphrodite pull Paris down beside her and whisper in his ear. Whatever she said made him nod happily, which he continued to do even as Athena and Hera, noting this exchange and fearing the worst, bore down on him together.
    They were too late.
    By the time they reached Paris, he had made his judgment, and the coveted golden apple lay in Aphrodite’s lap.

TWENTY-THREE
    Everyone behaved well, at first.
    “I see you’ve won, Aphrodite,” said Athena as Paris helped the victor to her rosy little feet. “Congratulations.”
    “Thank you, Athena. I
am
pleased,” replied Aphrodite, emphasizing her victory by fondling the apple ever so gently. “Though I know Paris had a very hard time making his decision.” Her sea-green eyes gleamed under her lashes as she delivered this patently false statement, which ended with the hint of a mischievous smile.
    “Is that so.” It was not really a question. “Tell us how you made it,” Hera said to Paris. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
    “Yes, do,” seconded Athena, planting herself next to Hera so that their arms touched. Surprisingly, neither backed away. There was a new alliance forming between the two sore-losing goddesses, a formidable one.
Doesn’t
bode well,
I thought, not knowing exactly why.
    “Well, uh, you are all very beautiful,” Paris began, “and I would give an apple to each of you if I could, believe me.” He offered them a quick, ingratiating smile, but Hera and Athena remained unaffected.
    This must be a first for handsome Paris,
I thought. He’d probably never met resistance in his life—never from a female, at any rate.
    He swallowed nervously, squirming under the searing stares of the two goddesses. “But as that isn’t possible,” he continued, “I, uh . . .” He gave up, casting a pleading glance at Aphrodite instead. Whatever her promises to him, they had not covered this—two powerful, resentful goddesses, simmering hotly in defeat.
    He looked as if he wanted to jump into a hole.
    Then Aphrodite—in her leisurely fashion—came to his rescue.
    “Oh, all right,” she said, heaving an exasperated sigh, “I’ll tell you if you really want to know. I think Paris deserves the most beautiful woman in the world. After all, he’s the handsomest man. It seems only fitting.”
    Paris’ rapturous expression said that he agreed completely.
    “And they’d make such a dazzling couple,” Aphrodite went on. “Like gods! Or demigods at the very least. . . . So that’s what I promised—the love of the world’s most beautiful woman.”
    “
That’s
what you chose?” Athena asked, with mingled scorn and disbelief.
    “Helen of Sparta?” asked Hera, at the very same moment.
    Aphrodite stared at Hera. “How did
you
know?” she demanded.
    “I know more than you think,” replied Hera with an air of mystery.
    You know because you watch your husband like a hawk,
I thought. My guess was that Zeus had mentioned Helen’s beauty at one time or another, and jealous Hera had never forgotten it. Unlike Athena, Hera had a prodigious memory, especially when it came to her husband’s roving eye. She could reel off the names of all the girls he’d chased for the last three hundred years. She’d tormented many of them personally.
    “Has Aphrodite mentioned that Helen is married?” Hera asked Paris. “No—let me guess—she forgot to tell