Ποικιλp57;θρον’, o36;θp49;νατ’ o44;φρp57;διτα,
παq50; Δp55;ος, δολp57;πλοκε, λp55;σσομαp55; σε
μp53; μ’ o40;σαισι μp53;τ’ pνp55;αισι δp49;μνα,
πp57;τνια, θq66;μονz3;

–Σαπφa4;, Θραa3;σμα 1, “Ύμνος στην Αφροδίτη”

The first thing Adam was aware of was nausea. He doubled over briefly, retching, but nothing came up.

That was when he became aware of darkness.

He struggled to put together what exactly was going on. He had a vague recollection of something…they’d been on the beach. Yeah, they’d been on the beach, and Stephanie wanted to go snorkeling, but she didn’t right away, but he said she should, and then that woman came up with the pen, but it wasn’t a pen, it sprayed something, and then….

…and then he was here. His head throbbed, and his stomach twisted, but he forced himself up into a sitting position, forced his eyes open.

He threw aside some fabric that was draped over him like a blanket, but that didn’t increase the light significantly. He was in a chamber. No – no, not a chamber. He could see on the ceiling the clear zig-zag pattern of a zipper. The light behind it was grayish and dim, so obviously whatever room lay beyond it was not lit up too brightly. Still, it told him he was in a suitcase, or a carry-on. It was too big to be a purse.

He struggled to his feet. He needed to figure out what was going on. Stephanie must be mad with fear by now, and he didn’t want her to blame herself. He’d insisted she go, and he’d do it again. She deserved a good life. He just hoped that she wouldn’t feel like this was somehow her fault. He couldn’t bear that.

* * *

This is all my fault, Stephanie thought, as she paced the floor at the police station.

Six hours Adam had been missing, and he could be almost anywhere by now. She cursed herself repeatedly as she thought back to stupid decisions. They should have stayed home, they should have stayed in America, they shouldn’t have come out on a cruise – and she damn sure never should have left him alone, not even for a moment. Precious few moments were left, how could she be so selfishly stupid?

She told herself that she’d done it because he’d suggested it, that she’d done it to make him feel more human. But that didn’t console her. It made the pain worse. Because she had a responsibility to him, to keep him safe, to keep him with her until the bitter end.

She’d promised.

The past few hours had been horrible. After the agony of finding him gone, she found herself trying to explain in her broken high school Spanish that her doll-sized husband was missing. The federales were as understanding as could be expected, but remained rather perplexed until one officer remembered seeing something about Adam on television. That got things moving a bit, and soon enough she was put in touch with the consul in Méridia. The consul was on her way, which was supposed to be comforting, but which just left Stephanie pacing, and blaming herself, and waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

* * *

The zipper on the bag was not moving, that much was sure. Adam wasn’t sure if it was locked outside, or if he just was too little to move the slider, but frankly, it didn’t matter. He did feel that escape was his best option; after all, almost anyone had to be better than whomever had him. They might not want to kidnap him, and that was more than he could say for his captor.

He had figured some things out, at least. He was on an airplane – he’d heard the call for tray tables to be stowed, and seatbacks put in their full upright position. They were en route to George H.W. Bush Intercontinental in Houston, which gave him some hope – while his captor might be American, she’d still have to go through customs. They might check the bag. He hoped.

He called out a few times, hoping to attract attention – he could hear a mother and child talking through one wall of the bag, which, combined with the groaning of springs above, told him he was stowed under a seat. But while he shouted and banged on the bag, nobody appeared to hear him; it didn’t surprise him. The walls of the bag were soft and plush, and he expected it had been doctored in preparation for him.

No, it appeared he’d have to hope that customs officials would find him, or at least, that he would get the chance to escape in the airport. If he ended up wherever he was being taken, he doubted he’d be free ever again.

* * *

Stephanie was angrier after her initial conversation with the consul than she was before. While the federales had been helpful, the consul had been skeptical. She asked repeatedly why Stephanie had gone snorkeling, as if disbelieving her story. When she pointed out that one statement given to the federales backed her up, the consul seemed almost annoyed at that fact.

The consul had explained, impatiently, that there was nothing much that could be done – Adam’s “condition” made it unlikely that he would be spotted randomly. If he was found, it would be because he escaped. They had no leads, save for the one statement by a fellow cruise passenger, who said he’d noticed a pretty blonde woman talking to Adam – but didn’t see much more, as he was on his honeymoon, and was more interested in ogling his wife.

And of course, pretty blonde women are not a rarity on the beaches of Mexico.

So Stephanie was given a plane ticket back home and advice to check in with police there as soon as she arrived, and a condescending pat on the shoulder. At least the cruise line said they’d take care of sending her things along. She couldn’t go back to their honeymoon suite. Not now.

* * *

It wasn’t long after the bag was pulled out from its hiding place that Adam found himself surprised by the zipper parting. He stood up defiantly, as if hoping to be spotted.

It was the pretty blonde from the beach, wearing a scowl. “You’re awake,” she whispered, pointedly.

“Damn right I’m awake! Let me go!” Said Adam, as he moved for the side wall. He walked right into a backhand that sent him sprawling.

“If you don’t want to die,” the woman said, as he lay in a heap, “you’ll get back between those shirts and stay put.”

Adam lay on the ground, in a great deal of pain and rage. He knew, somehow, that this woman wasn’t bluffing – she’d kill him. But in the pit of his soul, he knew that wasn’t going to change whether he stayed put like a good boy or not.

He got to his knees, and looked up at his captress. “Okay,” he said, “you win.” He got up on both feet, and launched himself forward.

The move caught the woman by surprise. He grabbed the open side of the bag and pulled himself over, throwing himself over the side and into the abyss. He fell the equivalent of nearly thirty feet, but adrenaline and his small size made sure he could bounce up cleanly.

The woman grunted in rage, but she didn’t have a chance to get to him, as he dodged and weaved through a sea of legs and bags. He was looking for something, some way through….

He saw it presently – a diaper bag, laying by the feet of a mom who was paying no attention to her bags at all, just kicking them forward as she and her husband cooed over a titanic infant. The bag was open just enough that he could throw himself into it, pulling himself deep past jumpers and bottles into the depths of the bag, as the mother’s enormous foot gave it another shove forward.

He felt the bag shudder after a moment, and some muffled shouting as it was picked up by the woman, the husband yanking it back, pulling the bag so fast that Adam felt himself blacking out. This would make it hard to draw the attention of customs agents, but at least he wasn’t a prisoner anymore….

* * *

“Look, lady, this is my daughter’s diaper bag. It isn’t your bag,” David said, yanking the bag away from the crazy woman who’d just grabbed it.

“But…but…it…uh…looks so much like…I mean, if I could just check…you know, inside….”

“That’s our bag,” Sharon said, bouncing her baby girl, who had started crying. “It’s even embroidered with Kayla’s name, see?”

“But…I mean…you don’t understand….it’s important….”

“Look, lady, what I understand is that you just came up and grabbed my daughter’s diaper bag without saying a word, and if I hadn’t seen you, I have a feeling that it would be your diaper bag right now. Why you want a diaper bag is beyond me – but I’m betting you didn’t think it was a diaper bag. I bet you thought it was a purse.”

The woman stared at David, nonplussed.

“Now,” he said, lowering his voice, “this line is long, and moving slow, and luckily for you, we’re still a ways away from customs, so the cops didn’t see your little attempt at thievery. But if you’d like me to go tell them what you tried to do, I’d be happy to. Fortunately for you, though, I’m tired from our vacation, and I’m ready to go home, and the paperwork sounds like a lot of trouble. So if you’ll shut up, get back in line, and leave us the hell alone, I’ll let it drop. But if you keep pushing, or if you’re stupid enough to try anything else, I swear you’ll wish you’d stayed in Mexico. Got it?”

The woman nodded, dumbly, and stumbled back through the line. So close – so close! He would be furious with her, that was for sure. But she would have to take His correction with grace. She would have to endure it, so that she could get back out and find this prize. Much depended on it, she knew. She would not fail, not in the end.

* * *

Aphrodite stormed into the café, angrier than she’d been in at least three thousand years. “Hephaestus!” She called, espying her estranged husband at a table, “how dare you ignore me!”

The room ignored her outburst, as she and her husband were not showing themselves at present, but even still, the patrons felt the chill wind blowing through the coffee shop.

“Aphrodite, you’re facing me before the Council. We shouldn’t be meeting. Unless you’re looking to concede.”

“Hephaestus, I know you got my message. The Adversary is taking advantage of this for His goals. We can’t let that happen.”

“The Adversary is no different than any of us Gods, Aphrodite. He has a very important role – God of Sorrow, God of Evil, God of Hate. For if there was no hate….”

“…there could be no love, yes, I know all about The Adversary’s role in the multiverse, and how His job is as important as Al’yah’s Herself, but that doesn’t mean we should stand idly by and watch our bet be perverted into sorrow and hatred. That was not the aim of this bet. Concede, Hephaestus.”

“Never,” the God of Smiths said.

“All right,” Aphrodite said, swallowing her pride. “All right, though I swear I have defeated you, I will agree with you to end the contract. I will withdraw my appeal, and I will remain your wife, if in name only. And you can draw what conclusions about women that you will. And we can get Adam and Stephanie together, as they deserve.”

Hephaestus sipped his espresso, but said nothing.

“Did you hear me, Hephaestus? I said I will break the contract! I will agree to those terms!”

“I withdraw that offer,” said Hephaestus. “I will not allow the contract to be broken.”

“Do you want me that badly?” said Aphrodite, a tear gracing her lovely olive cheek. “Is that it? Then allow me to concede all but women’s folly. I will be the wife to you that you want. But…allow these mortals their love, too.”

Hephaestus started at that, and looked up at Aphrodite, eyes wide. “You would promise that? You…you would, wouldn’t you? By Zeus, you have grown up.”

He stared down at his cup. “It is a pity.”

Aphrodite stared at him, drinking in those words. And she looked down, as she dared to comprehend them.

“It was never about women. Or me. You were working for The Adversary the whole time.”

“He made me an offer,” said Hephaestus, “that I couldn’t refuse. Not even for you. But,” the God said, taking another sip, “that doesn’t mean I don’t still see our bet as meaningful. Nor that I will not grant you divorce if, after twenty years….”

“Fuck you,” said Aphrodite, rising. “You want to work with The Adversary? Your right. He is, as you noted, but a God like the rest of us. But do not think that I will not fight you with all my power and all my fury, to my destruction, if need be.”

She turned on her heel, and began to stride out of the room.

“You know you can’t interfere. The deeper magic prevents it, so long as our contract is in force.”

“Do not lecture me about the deep magic, bastard,” Aphrodite said. “Unlike you, I will play fairly. And I will still win.”

And with a sniff, she was gone. She had someone she needed to see – and right away.