baby for revenge? That’s a pretty messed-up reason, but it wasn’t the kid’s fault.
Hera said to herself: I can’t show this baby to the other gods. I’ll be ridiculed. She went to the open window of her bedroom and looked down the side of Mount Olympus. It sure was a long way down.
Who would ever know if the kid disappeared? She could always claim that she’d never been pregnant. False alarm.
Before she could rethink this pretty terrible idea, she tossed the baby out the window.
I know. Totally cold. Like a kid is something you can just throw away. But Hera was complicated that way. One day she was the perfect mother. The next day she was throwing babies out the window.
Oh, but the kid wasn’t gone. His name was Hephaestus, and we’ll see what happened to him later on.
In the meantime, Hera had other problems to deal with.
The first time a mortal hero visited Mount Olympus, it was a big deal. His name was Ixion, and apparently he was the first human to figure out that you could kill other humans in battle. Congratulations! You win a prize!
The gods were so impressed that he’d learned to fight other humans with an actual sword instead of just chucking rocks and grunting at them, they invited Ixion to a feast on Mount Olympus.
You’d think the guy would be on his best behavior. Nope.
He had too much to eat and drink. All the praise went to his head. He started thinking the gods were actually his friends, his peers, his comrades. Big mistake. No matter how nicely the gods treat you, they never see you as their equal. Remember, to them we are gerbils who have fire, cockroaches who can use weapons. We’re kind of entertaining. Occasionally we’re useful, if the gods need to kill small things down on earth. But BFFs? No.
All evening, Ixion kept making eyes at Hera, since she was the most beautiful lady at the table. Zeus was too busy partying to notice, much less care. Finally Hera got really uncomfortable and excused herself.
Ixion figured that was his cue to follow her. The guy had learned how to kill people, but apparently he had a lot to learn about goddesses. After she’d left, Ixion waited at the table for a few minutes, then he announced to the gods, “Hey, all this drink is going right through me. Where’s the bathroom? Uh, do gods even have bathrooms?”
“Down the hall,” Zeus said. “First door on the right. They’re marked mortals and gods. Just be sure you use the correct one.”
Ixion headed off in the direction Hera had gone. He found her standing on a balcony, looking at the clouds.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said.
She flinched. She probably would have turned him into some form of snail—something very slimy—but she was too stunned that this mortal had dared to speak to her.
Ixion took her silence as shyness. “Yeah, I know you’ve been checking me out. I think you’re awesome, too. How about a kiss?”
He put his arm around her and tried to kiss her. Hera was so panicked, all she could do was push him away and run. She lost him in the corridors of the palace, locked herself in her room, and waited until her pulse returned to normal.
Why hadn’t she incinerated him? Or at least changed him into a slug?
She’d been too shocked. Also, maybe, she was a little confused by the flirting. It had been several hundred years since she’d had to deal with that. Once she’d gotten married, she’d put other men out of her mind completely.
Whatever Hera’s faults, she was not a cheater. She didn’t have an unfaithful bone in her immortal body. She truly and honestly believed that marriage was forever, for better or worse, which was why Zeus’s little adventures drove her into a rage.
Once she had calmed down, she started to plot her revenge. She could punish Ixion herself, sure. But why not tell Zeus instead? Let him be the jealous one for a change. Maybe if he had to defend her honor, he would start taking his marriage vows more seriously.
Hera composed herself and returned to the dinner table. Ixion sat there chatting away, as if nothing had happened—the little weasel. Hera gave him a smile, just to show she wasn’t rattled. Then she leaned over to Zeus and whispered, “My lord, may I speak with you in private?”
Zeus frowned. “Am I in trouble?”
“Not yet,” she said sweetly.
She led him down the hall and explained