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sure she hadn’t actually crossed into the underworld without knowing it. Was riding on the back of a dolphin—already enough of a shock—going to be her fate for eternity?
    She saw the black funnel miles to the west, now small and distorted, as if it was running out of power. The lighthouse at Alexandria was a speck, barely recognizable by its teeny beacon of light. The Peacock was gone, and Pandy now saw splinters and shards of wood floating all about her.
    “Hi-down-here-the-thing-you’re-sitting-on-the-thing-that’s- talking -to-you-I-said-how-are-you?” the dolphin repeated.
    “Uh . . .”
    “Oh, Great Artemis’s Big Toe! Right . . . sorry, my fault! I forgot. Human, tiiiiny brain,” said the dolphin, slowing his speech way, way down. “I basically just said, ‘Hello, human.’ You know, Poseidon warned us that you all might be a little untalkative, and a few of my fellow cetaceans think humans are just plain rude. But I think you’re all quite nice for a species that uses just ten percent of the little brains Zeus gave you. And I don’t mind saying so.”
    “I’m sorry,” Pandy replied at last. “And I’m trying to use more than ten percent. I’m just not quite, um, sure where I am. I’m a little . . . like . . . oh, what’s the word . . . ?”
    “Disoriented?”
    “Yeah! That’s it.”
    “Not to worry!” said the dolphin, tossing his head merrily. “Do you have a name, human?”
    “Yes.”
    “And . . . you’d like me to guess what it is?”
    “Oh!” said Pandy. “No. Sorry. It’s . . . um . . . Pandora.”
    “Well, Um-Pandora, I am Sigma, pleased to carry you. Ready?”
    “No! Wait! For what? Ready for what?”
    “We have to get you out of here,” said Sigma. “We can chat a little later on. After all, we’re going to be with each other for a while. Are your lungs up to taking a deep breath?”
    “I think so.”
    “Good. You’ve ridden before, yes?”
    “A dolphin?” said Pandy. “No, never.”
    “Ah, so you need the signs. Here you go.”
    Two dim violet-colored squares lit up on either side of the dolphin just behind his eyes. Within each square was written the words PLACE HAND HERE. Pandy put her hands directly on the squares; the skin here was loose and easy to hold. Instinctively, she grabbed large handfuls.
    But as she tried to close her fingers, a sharp jolt shot through her right arm.
    “Ow!” she cried.
    “Pain?”
    “Yeah . . . my arm.”
    “No wonder. You flew about sixty kilometers; water does not a soft landing make! Place your arm against my skin, Um-Pandora. Anywhere. Go ahead.”
    Pandy laid her arm against the dolphin’s flank. She felt a small pulling sensation—as if her arm were being adhered to his skin—and a warmth moving from her elbow to her wrist. Sigma was silent for a moment. Then he shuddered slightly.
    “You’re in luck. It’s just a sprain. Could have been worse!” he said. “I’ll have it healed by the time we get there.”
    “There?”
    “Later. Now, remember,” said the dolphin, “ big breath!”
    Pandy inhaled as deeply as she could. The air rushing into her deflated lungs felt like she was sucking in nails; but something told her she’d better hold it in.
    Sigma dove under the surface and shot forward with such speed that Pandy felt her lips part, the water flowing over her teeth and down her throat. She pressed her mouth closed. She hung her head to the side and flattened her body as best she could against the back of the big, beautiful mammal, surprised by how warm his skin felt against hers.
    He didn’t dive deep, only about two meters below the surface. After about ten seconds, he rose again.
    “How was that?”
    “I’m okay,” Pandy answered. “I’m good . . . I think.”
    “Excellent! A little longer underwater this time. We’ll take this slow. Breathe!”
    She inhaled once more and he dove under the waves. This time he stayed under for almost twenty seconds.
    “How’re we feeling?” he said,