Chapter 11

The water was delicious. It was ice-cold, sweet and clear, and somehow alive. The water on the ship had always been flat and dead. Not surprising when you think how many millions of times it must have been recycled in the long years of the voyage. She shuddered and decided she'd rather not think about where the ship's water had been before she drank it. This was wonderful, though virgin water straight from a mountain stream. She cupped her hand under the spring and drank again until the horrible taste in her mouth had all washed away. Then she washed her face and dipped her head under the little trickle of water.

She was feeling better now. She still felt really sad for Hephaestus but there was nothing she could do to help him. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the sun on her eyelids. Then, quite forgetting she was on the wrong side of the shield, she fell asleep.

"Goddess? Mother? Are you sleeping?"

The voice woke her. There was something odd about it, but before it had time to register she had opened her eyes and seen the primitive kneeling before her. She was pretty sure it was the same one she had seen peeping from the rock before. He was very young, not much older than her and his face was not hairy like the horrible men who had thrown rocks at them.

"Yes?"

"Please don't strike me down, Mother." The boy was trembling in fear. "We did not mean to offend. It was Atlas. Please do not punish the Tribe."

Athena put out her hand and the boy flinched away.

"I will not harm you," she said, wondering why he was calling her 'mother'. Surely he must know she was only a child herself? The boy continued to tremble and seemed unable to go on.

"Can I help you?" she asked gently, trying not to frighten him further.

He looked up and she could see that his face was streaked with tears.

"The Mother," he said. "Pandora. I think she is dying. She has fallen from the rock and she is sleeping like the dead. Please can you help her? Can you come?"

He held out his hand in a gesture of supplication with such a look of anguish and fear that she felt immense pity for him.

Athena thought fast. She knew she would be in terrible trouble for wandering off on her own but her curiosity got the better of her. She was a bit confused by all the 'mother' references, but it was quite clear that someone was hurt and needed help. As she followed the young man down the mountain she was thinking furiously about how to deal with it. Obviously Apollo couldn't come. He was dealing with Hephaestus. And the same went for Aphrodite, whose job it was to deal with humanoids. She would never leave Hephaestus until he had been treated.

That left only one possibility Artemis. Artemis was the zoologist on the team and as such was trained as a veterinary. If she could treat animals, she should be able to treat humans. They were a kind of animal after all, weren't they?

She sought Artemis' line and called her.

"Yes?"

"It's me, Athena. I need your help."

"Where are you? What's happened?"

They had reached the ledge now and Athena could see the body spread-eagled below.

"It's a young girl one of the primitives she's had a really bad fall. I daren't touch her."

"What!! Are you out of your mind? Where are you?"

"I'm a little way down the mountain beyond the spring."

Artemis screamed down the line. "Does your father know? Oh my God, Athena. He's going to kill you. What do you think you're doing?"

Athena took a deep breath. She didn't think Zeus would actually kill her, although he could certainly make her life hell, but without help this girl might die. With a jolt, Athena recognised the young woman who had been the first to walk into the shield. She seemed to be the leader of her people. Perhaps that was what the boy meant by 'mother'.

"Look, I know I'm going to be in trouble but if we don't help she will die and she's only a child. I can't just walk away."

There was an exaggerated sigh at the other end. "OK, I'm on my way. I'll just get my bag. And not a word of this to anyone! Understand?"

Athena breathed a sigh of relief and checked her monitor was broadcasting her position.

"Come on," she said to the boy. "Let's have a look. I've called for my friend to come and help. She's a doctor, sort of well, a healer anyway."

The girl was still breathing but she was deathly pale. Athena cautiously felt for her pulse and found none. That didn't necessarily mean she didn't have one. Athena was not at all confident she was doing it right. She put her head close to the girl's chest, careful not to actually put any pressure on it. There was maybe a faint heartbeat. It was hard to tell under all the fur and feathers. She looked up at the primitive boy who was giving her a pleading look.

"I don't know," she said. "She's breathing but I just don't know enough to be able to tell how bad it is. We'll just have to wait for Artemis."

The boy hung his head.

"I'm Athena. What's your name?" Athena said brightly, hoping to take his mind off the tragic figure lying between them.

"I am Prometheus," said the boy, "The Bearer of the Fire."

There was pride in his voice as he said this and Athena guessed it was an important title. It didn't, however, seem to make much sense. From what Athena knew of fire it wouldn't exactly be easy to carry.

"How do you do that?"

"I carry it in a fennel stalk. It is at the cave, there," He pointed up and to her left and, following the direction of his finger, she made out a dark patch on the cliff. "I have left it in the care of Rena." He paused, then went on, "In all the time I have carried the fire it has never gone out." The pride was very evident this time. He puffed out his chest as he spoke and his eyes shone with delight.

"And how long is that?"

"Three years. Since I became a man."

Athena frowned. These people clearly had a different definition of adulthood from that of her own people. She was fifteen and wouldn't be considered an adult for another six years. He couldn't be much older. Sixteen, seventeen perhaps.

"And how old are you now?"

Prometheus was surprised. She was the Mother. Did she not know the age of manhood? He spread his hand to display his fingers three times. Five and five and five. He hesitated and then held up one more finger.

"Sixteen," said Athena. "You are one year older than me!" Somehow she felt this was a good thing but couldn't have explained why.

She wanted to know how old Pandora was as well but didn't want to bring his attention back to the stricken girl.