Free Pandora Gets Angry by Carolyn Hennesy Page B

mothers.”
    â€œNo!”
    â€œI know !”
    â€œFor eternity?” Alcie whispered.
    â€œSometimes Buster gets impish and sticks their mother-in-law in there as well. And, they’re not allowed to sleep.”
    â€œGet out!” Alcie cried.
    â€œI know ! Let’s eat,” Persephone sang out, striding back the way they came.

    â€œCym? Cyn? Com? It’s a ‘C,’ I know that. What is it?”
    â€œAre you talking to me?” Alcie asked as they approached a wide set of open double doors. Delicious scents floating on puffs of smoke were emanating into the corridor.
    â€œHuh?” Persephone responded, startled. “Oh, no, I’m just trying to remember something.”
    Through the open doors ahead, Alcie could see figures rushing back and forth, carrying urns, platters, and bowls. Someone saw Persephone coming and sent out a great shout.
    â€œCookie! What’ve you got?” Persephone called cheerily as she entered the vast food preparation rooms. Shades, wearing splatter-smocks, were frantically forming a reception line.
    A heavy, wrinkled, gray-haired shade turned quickly from a hot oven, a tray of freshly roasted black things in her hand. With a kind smile, she set the tray on a long table and bowed deeply, as did the entire line.
    â€œMy queen.”
    â€œCookie?” Alcie asked quietly.
    â€œShe’s the chief cook. She cooks. She’s a cookie,” Persephone answered. “She doesn’t mind, right … Cookie?”
    Before the woman could open her mouth, Persephone had turned slightly to Alcie.
    â€œ I’ve forgotten her name ,” she mouthed.
    Alcie caught a slight movement in the polished silver of a large serving bowl and saw the cook’s reflection. She had seen exactly what Persephone had whispered and was now smiling softly.
    â€œMy mistress may call me whatever she desires,” she said.
    â€œThere, you see?” Persephone said. Then she gestured grandly toward Alcie.
    â€œWe have a guest!”
    â€œSo I have been told,” said the cook.
    â€œThis is Alcie!” said Persephone. “She’s mortal and not really dead. She’s not going to be here long, and I’m showing off the place.”
    Alcie suddenly felt as if she were on display, as if she were a piece of fruit or a bolt of silk in a marketplace.
    â€œHello,” Alcie said.
    â€œWelcome,” said the cook. “I am Cyrene.”
    â€œI knew it started with ‘C,’ ” Persephone muttered softly.
    â€œBut you may call me ‘Cookie.’ ”
    â€œCookie, what’s good today?” asked Persephone.
    Cyrene gestured to the long tables in the center of the room.
    â€œIn honor of your off-season visit and in honor of our very unique guest, I have prepared some of your favorites!”
    â€œOh, goody!” Persephone squealed.
    â€œWilted field greens with oil and vinegar.”
    â€œPlucked right out of the Elysian Fields!” Persephone crowed to Alcie.
    â€œRoasted garlic and snail custard in phyllo dough. Liver pudding on day-old flatbread rounds.”
    â€œYum! Which liver?”
    â€œI forget whose.”
    â€œWhaaa?” Alcie gagged.
    â€œShe means which animal,” Persephone said.
    â€œCream of tripe soup,” said Cyrene.
    â€œCan’t wait!”
    â€œLamb’s entrails stuffed with minced kidney and sweetbreads.”
    â€œHave mercy!” Persephone moaned with delight.
    â€œAnd your favorite …”
    â€œHere it comes!” cried Persephone.
    â€œBlackened dove hearts with walnuts,” said Cyrene, pointing to the tray of tiny dark nuggets she had just removed from the oven.
    â€œNow it’s a festivaaaaal!” yelled Persephone, clapping her hands and turning to Alcie. “What shall we start with?”
    â€œOh, wow,” Alcie said, having no idea what to say. She followed Persephone to a small table set for two off to the