"Modern mortals are odd" Artemis told her brother as she watched a row of dowdy matrons pulling the arms of machines that twinkled and clacked and blared obnoxious things like "Wheel of Fortune."

"It is as if the shine and the glitter of the boxes casts a spell on them."

"Slot machines," Apollo corrected her.

Artemis gave him a quizzical look.

"Remember what Bacchus told us? They are called slot machines."

"Slot machines or shining boxes, what difference does it make? Leave it to Bacchus to actually listen to mortals."

A middle-aged woman in an appliqued sweatshirt and leggings paused to frown at the goddess before she fed her machine more money. Apollo took his sister's elbow and guided her out of earshot of the row of machines.

"You shouldn't let them hear you speak that way. And don't be so hard on Bacchus. You know Zeus commanded him to explain the customs of modern mortals to us so that we could blend more easily with them." Apollo paused as he watched a man in a gaudy white jumpsuit encrusted with rhinestones cause a group of women to squeal in delight as he gyrated his hips and sang something about being "all shook up."

"I, for one, am glad Bacchus understands this world. Much of it is a mystery to me."

"Fine! If it'll make you stop sulking I'll gift the matron to make up for my harshness." With a sarcastic flip of her long, shapely fingers Artemis caused the woman's slot machine to land on a perfect row of cherries. The matron squealed and leapt to her feet as lights flashed and sirens proclaimed her a jackpot winner. Artemis looked on in disgust. "Modern mortals would be much more interesting if they were cute and made noises like puppies, instead of looking and sounding like overfed sows all ready for the slaughter."

"They are not pets. Nor are they animals," Apollo said severely. "And Zeus commanded us not to meddle with the mortals."

"I wasn't meddling. I was gifting. There is a distinct difference. If I was going to meddle I would have made that horrid clothing in which she has covered herself combust." Artemis' self-amused laughter was sweet music, and it caused several men to send her hot, appreciative gazes, which the goddess completely ignored.

Her brother grunted an incoherent response.

"Apollo, what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me," he said, taking her elbow again and steering her past the busy blackjack and roulette tables and towards one of the many little bars that were conveniently scattered throughout the casino. Even though the two immortals were dressed in matching chitons that left much of their sleek bodies bare, they blended well with the colorful mixture of casino employees and Vegas revelers. People noticed their stunning beauty and the unique grace with which they moved. How could they not? But no one thought the appearance of a couple dressed as if they had stepped off the streets of ancient Rome unusual. They were, after all, at Caesars Palace in Sin City. Anything could be expected to happen there.

Apollo reached into a fold in his tunic and extracted the paper that Bacchus had reluctantly distributed amongst the Olympians as he explained that the modern world used it as currency. He caught the waitress's attention, and though it was only his third foray to the Kingdom of Las Vegas, he ordered the drink that the immortals had already become fond of with smooth confidence, "Two vodka martinis, very cold, with extra olives. Shaken, not stirred."

"Who are you, sweetheart?" The waitress gave him a flirtatious flutter of her suspiciously thick eyelashes. "Caesar or James Bond?"

"Neither," he said with a bittersweet smile. "I am Apollo."

"I could almost believe it, handsome." She leered at his well-muscled body and wiggled her way back to the bar.

"Insignificant creatures." Artemis curled her lip after the waitress.

"It's not that they're insignificant. It's just that they have changed."

Artemis shook her head at her brother. "What has happened to you?"

Apollo considered giving his sister his standard "nothing's wrong with me" response, but when he met her eyes he read within them her very real concern. He tried to make his shrug nonchalant. "Perhaps I have changed, too."

Artemis felt a little knot of worry expand and harden. "Changed? What do you mean?"

He didn't answer his sister until the cocktail waitress had deposited their drinks. When he spoke, his deep voice was wistful.

"Have you ever wondered what it is that loves, the body or the soul?"

"What it is that loves? What kind of question is that?" she sputtered.

"The kind of question that was asked of me by a mortal, but which I could not answer. Apparently, you can not answer it either, Sister."

Caught mid-drink, Artemis swallowed carefully while she considered her brother's disturbing words.

"It is that damned confused mortal who inhabited Persephone's body. She has done this to you, hasn't she?" Artemis snapped.

"The mortal wasn't confused at all. She clearly chose Hades over me. As the God of the Underworld chose her over all other women, mortal or immortal."

"Well, I hope the silly mortal is worshiping Hades properly. He may reign over the dead, but he is a god and, no matter how odd his tastes, he deserves abject adoration."

Apollo rubbed his brow as if he had a headache. "It's not like that between them. You should see how they are together, Artemis. There is a contentment about them that is beyond words. Perhaps beyond understanding," then he added as if it was an afterthought, "or at least beyond my understanding."

"You've been watching Hades and Persephone?" Incredulous, she could only stare at her brother.

"It's not Persephone. It's the mortal woman, Carolina. Hades did not desire Persephone. He loved the mortal's soul, not the immortal goddess. And, no, I haven't been watching them. At least not like you're making it sound. I have visited the Underworld as Hades' guest - several times." He finished quickly.

So that was where he had disappeared to lately. She had just assumed he was visiting the Ancient World to oversee his oracle or to stir up something interesting, perhaps a minor war or two. Instead he had been Hades' guest in the Underworld? How strange.

"Hades has always been different from the rest of us. Why are you letting his eccentricities bother you?"

"You don't understand."

His eyes had a sad, introspective cast that continued to trouble Artemis. "Then explain it to me."

"Hades doesn't bother me. The mortal he loves doesn't bother me. I bother me."

"You aren't making sense."

"I realize that. I hardly make sense to myself. All I know is that for the first time in my existence I have glimpsed something that I desire, and I have no idea how to attain it."

Arthemis' first instinct was to scoff and to remind her brother that women were easily had, but something in the tone of his voice stayed her abrupt comment. Instead, she watched him carefully as she sipped her drink. He looked tired, and Apollo never looked tired. Was it possible that he was pining for a mortal woman? She remembered the last mortal who had refused Apollo's love. Her name had been Cassandra, and he hadn't become withdrawn and introspective then, he had become angry - so angry that he had negated the gift of prophecy he had given her. But mortals like Cassandra were the exception. Apollo was a legendary lover. Nymphs swooned when he smiled; even goddesses vied for his attention. Could desire for a mortal have so clouded his memory that he'd forgotten his own powers of seduction?

A commotion drew her attention from Apollo. Not far from them a little group of forest nymphs dressed in diaphanous white robes were talking in excited little bursts, completely unaware that every mortal man within sight was staring hungrily at them.

Apollo followed her gaze and smiled fondly at the bright cluster of nymphs. "It might not have been wise to allow the nymphs access to the modern world."

"Let them have their fun; they're harmless."

"How harmless they are would depend upon whether you are a mortal man caught in the wake of their allure," he said wryly.

As if the handsome god's gaze called to them, several of the nymphs rushed up to Apollo.

"My Lord! Have you heard? Bacchus has asked us to frolic for the mortals!"

"Yes! We are to perform a ritual of invocation."

"You should watch, my Lord!"

"Yes, please come watch us!"

The group giggled and posed alluringly for their favorite golden god before scampering off.

Artemis laughed at their childlike exuberance, but when she glanced at Apollo, she saw that he was staring after the little group, and his brow was furrowed.

"What are they invoking?" Apollo muttered more to himself than to his sister.

Artemis nibbled at her last olive. "Blessings... fertility... good health... you know, the normal things nymphs frolic around invoking. Are you going to eat that last olive?"

Apollo shook his head. His sister stabbed his olive with her toothpick and popped it into her mouth.

"Zeus made it clear that we were not to use our powers to meddle in the modern world."

"By Zeus' beard you have become as dour as dead Tiresias!" Her anger sizzled around them, causing the toothpick that she still held between her fingers to burst into flame. Annoyed, the goddess rolled her eyes and blew away the ash. "Mortal lives are like their little trinkets and playthings: fragile, easily consumed and just as easily replaced."

"You're comparing mortals to a sliver of wood?" he said, still staring in the direction the nymphs had disappeared.

"Why not?" She sighed and shook her head at her obviously distracted brother. "Oh, very well. Let us go make certain the nymphs don't do anything to meddle with your precious mortals." When he hesitated, she pulled him to his feet. "You never know," she whispered in mock concern. "Some unsuspecting mortal might actually blunder into the invocation and ask for our aid. I can hear them now: 'Great Zeus, send a thunderbolt to maim my neighbor's dog who barks all night...'"

He shook his head at his beautiful sister as he reluctantly walked with her through the casino. "You should not make light of an invocation ceremony. You know as well as I how much mischief has been caused by mortals binding the gods to aid them."

"Ancient mortals, yes, like Paris or Medea. But this is not the Ancient World. These mortals know nothing of us." Artemis watched in disgust as a balding, rotund man bought a fistful of large cigars from a scantily clad young woman who carried a tray, "All that concerns them now is..." She paused as the fat man reached forward to grope up the back of the cigar girl's short skirt when she turned away. With a small movement of her fingers, Artemis caused him to trip and fall face-forward. The goddess smiled smugly as his cigars rolled across the floor and the man cursed loudly. "All that concerns them now is shallow self-gratification," she finished. As they walked past, she stepped purposefully on one of the cigars that had come to rest near them, squashing it nicely into the ornate rug.

"Then they differ little from the gods," Apollo muttered.

Artemis shrugged off the accusatory tone of his comment. "We are gods. Self-gratification is ours by right."

"But what if superior self-gratification is not enough?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

Artemis felt her anger stir. There was obviously something wrong with her brother, but his morose, self-pitying attitude was wearing on her.

"What do you suggest, Brother? What other life could you possibly desire besides ours? Look around you." She gestured at the mortals who scurried past them like brainless ants. "We act superior because we are superior. A mortal's life is a temporary thing. They are like butterflies without the beauty of wings. You say modern mortals are changed? The only real change I see in them is that they no longer recognize us, which tells me that they have lost even the small amount of intelligence they used to have. Look at what they worship now." Artemis paused at the end of the casino and looked out into the shopping area that was The Forum. "Their Gods are Gucci, Prada, Versace, Escada, Visa and MasterCard." She shook her head, annoyed that her brother's silly malaise had gotten so under her skin. "We're wasting time. Are we not supposed to be following the nymphs?"

She nodded at the swirling path of golden glitter that the semideities left behind them. The mortals had, of course, noticed the shimmering trail, and many young females were laughing and dabbing the glitter on their bodies. Artemis frowned again. Their odd-looking clothing was confusing: low-slung, faded things that Bacchus had said they called jeans, and tight, middle-bearing brightly colored tops. Did these fledglings not realize how unattractive it was to display so much chubby skin? Being voluptuous was one thing; drawing attention to the one's body flaws was quite another. The goddess thought they looked like desperate young sausages.

"You may have a point," Apollo said slowly, considering his sister's words as they made their way through the noise and confusion of the busy market. "There is definitely something missing about them. Perhaps it is the absence of gods and goddesses within their lives. But I do not think that modern mortals are all as empty-headed as you believe. Actually, they remind me of myself." He laughed at his sister's shocked expression. "They seem to be searching for something that is just out of reach."

"You are a god. An Olympian immortal. Nothing is out of your reach," she said severely. Then her eyes widened as they made their way past a huge fountain that spewed water around naked nymphs. The central feature of the monstrosity was an enormous, scowling statue of a naked Poseidon, clutching a triton and glaring down at the shoppers. "They are lucky that Poseidon has no interest in visiting their kingdom. This naked rendition of him is definitely lacking" - she glanced at the statue's most intimate parts - "the god's true stature."

Apollo grinned. "That's probably why he's glaring."

Artemis smiled back at him, pleased he was sounding more like himself. Maybe her words were getting through to him at last. "Just the same, it is a good thing that Las Vegas isn't near the ocean. Poseidon can be so touchy."

They passed a large store that boasted the logo Disney as well as a life-sized reproduction of Pegasus flying from it. Artemis peered within. "Apparently modern mortals are obsessed with Hercules, Atlantis, and lions."

"At least they're colorful."

"Hercules wasn't really that handsome," Artemis said, glancing back over her shoulder at the strange shop.

"You never liked him."

"He was balding. I don't find bald men attractive, no matter how many labors they perform."

They turned a corner and saw a large crowd gathered around what appeared to be yet another of the ostentatious fountains, and Artemis wondered what glaring god would be featured atop this one. She and her brother had not ventured into this particular part of The Forum on their other brief visits, and curiosity caught her as they drew closer. The fountain was situated in the middle of a large area ringed with ornately carved columns. The shops that flanked the area were different here than at the other end of The Forum. Here they seemed to be more focused on food and wine than on selling clothing and jewelry. One especially interesting looking cafe caught her eye. The cheap gold lettering that so liberally proclaimed the names of the shops and boutiques throughout the rest of The Forum was absent at this particular cafe. Instead ancient-looking carved travertine marble letters were interspersed with living moss and trailing vines. The beautiful travertine spelled out the name of the little wine bar, The Lost Cellar.

Artemis elbowed her brother and lifted her chin in the direction of the cafe. "Let's go there. I'm in the mood for a bloodred Chianti."

"When are you not in the mood for red wine?" He smiled at her as he took her arm and began steering her along the edge of the crowd.

Suddenly, the lights that illuminated the cloud-filled ceiling dimmed and shifted colors from yellow to mauve and violet. The crowd murmured in anticipation, and Artemis and Apollo halted just outside The Lost Cellar. Though they were both well above average height, it was difficult for them to see over the closely packed people. Artemis made a frustrated sound. Just before she flicked her fingers, her brother whispered, "Be gentle with them." She winked at him and waggled her slender fingers mischievously. The people who had been blocking their view magically lost interest in the show and moved away, and anyone who tried to take their place found that standing in front of the two tall, attractive Olympians caused them to have an uncontrollable urge to pass gas - so violently that they hastily excused themselves and hurried to the nearest restroom facilities.

"Don't worry, Brother," Artemis smiled. "Each of them will find that later tonight they will have incredibly good luck at the... what did you call those clanking boxes? Slot..." Her voice trailed off as her mind registered the look of shock on Apollo's face. She turned her head and followed his stunned gaze. Her eyes went large and round as the seated statue at the center of the spurting fountain rotated in a slow circle towards them and began to speak.

"COME ONE, COME ALL, COME TO THE MALL!"

"The horrid thing looks like Bacchus," Artemis gasped.

"I think it is Bacchus," Apollo said, careful to keep his voice low.

The statue opened its mouth and chortled grotesquely. "Ah, but tonight we have a special show for you! Nymphs, I command you dance for the Vegas revelers, two by two!"

As per his order, pairs of nymphs detached themselves from where they had been standing at the edges of the crowd and, to the delight of the watching mortals, they began a seductive dance around the circumference of the fountain in time to the canned music of bells and pipes and horns. Golden glitter haloed the lovely forest deities as they twirled and leapt and frolicked with superhuman grace.

The Bacchus statue mechanically nodded his head in appreciation. Jell-O-like, his chins wobbled as he continued to speak.

"Nymphs, the magic of your beauty is pure and true. Tell me, Apollo, what thinks you?"

At the sound of the animated statue calling his name, Apollo jerked in surprise and took a half-step forward. Then his body froze as one of the lesser statues rotated and came alive in response.

"I agree they are lovely, fair and bright. Tonight I enhance their beauty with the magic of my immortal light!"

The real Apollo was struck speechless as he stared at the caricature of himself. In the next instant the music intensified as a laser show began and the nymphs stepped up the tempo of their dance to the spontaneous applause of the captivated audience.

"How dare he!" Artemis hissed, but her brother caught her arm as she started forward with fire in her eyes.

"Wait! We can't do anything here before all of these mortals."

"Let me have my bow and but a single arrow, and Bacchus will be eternally sorry for his distasteful little jest," Artemis said.

Apollo shook his head at the statue that was supposed to represent him. "He could have at least made it look more like me."

"It is blasphemous." Artemis' voice was low and dangerous.

"Is my lyre actually glowing green?" Apollo tried unsuccessfully to smother a chuckle. "And please tell me that my head is not that large."

His sister's next words were drowned out by the bellowing Bacchus.

"Lovely Artemis, how fair thou art. It is by your royal command that the invocation shall start!"

It was Artemis' turn to stare, dumbfounded, as an unflattering copy of herself came alight. It turned and lifted one thick arm. Artemis gasped as it began to speak, the mechanical female voice sounding nothing like her own.

"It is my intent and tonight I do dare, to send out through the nymphs in the shimmering air, this invocation - this summoning spell. So I cast my power and amidst you tonight it shall dwell."

The nymphs instantly began a hypnotic humming as the canned music faded into vague background noise against their sweet voices.

"He goes too far." Apollo's eyes darkened. No one mocked his sister, not even one of the immortals. But he was surprised to feel Artemis' hand tighten on his as this time it was she who kept him from striding forward.

"Listen to the nymphs." Her voice was thick with tension.

Apollo put aside his anger at Bacchus and listened to the music of the nymphs. The melodic humming had a seductive, familiar tempo, and even before the semideities began to sing the words of the invocation, Apollo felt the hair on his forearms prickle in response to the invisible insurgence of power that poured into the air around them.

"Seekers of the ancient ways, think upon

the coming again of the immortals

and of your distant ancestors

who once honored the old gods

and gave blessing to field and forest, wind and

water, earth and air. This night we invoke past times - past days. "

The nymphs' voices were so beautiful that the listening mortals hardly breathed.

"What are they doing?" Apollo said, feeling a sudden tightening low in his throat. "This is a true invocation ritual. I can feel the power - by Zeus' beard, it is almost visible!"

Helplessly, the two immortals watched as the nymphs continued to spin their magic web.

"Celebrate the reawakening of the Olympians

and the return of the ancient mysteries,

the quickening of beauty and of fruitfulness.

We proclaim the return of the gods

with spell and chant and song.

Let the aid of the ancients be invoked! "

"We must stop them!" Apollo began to move forward, but once again his sister's firm grip stayed him.

"How?" she whispered. "How do we do that without causing a horrendous scene?"

Apollo's jaw tightened. "But we cannot allow them to complete the invocation. Think of the consequences of a modern moral binding the aid of a god!"

"You are the one who should think, Brother. The invocation is harmless."

"How can you say that? The power feels magnified tenfold! The long absence of magic in this world must be acting to intensify the ritual. This binding will be unbreakable," he said through clenched teeth.

?' "This binding will never happen," Artemis insisted. "Who here knows how to complete the ritual?"

The sensuous song of the nymphs continued to fill the air.

"Soft and whispering winds from afar,

greetings be unto thee ..."

"Wine from the ancient land must be poured in libation," Artemis reminded him. "Then blood must be mixed with the wine." The goddess's lips quirked smugly. "How many eons have passed since these mortals made blood sacrifice and libation? And that doesn't even fully bind the ritual."

"In the names of

Bacchus and

Apollo and

Artemis,

blow the power of the Gods clear and fresh and

free..."

"A true desire of the heart must be spoken aloud as the invocation concludes," he finished for her, and his shoulders began to relax. "You're wiser than I, Sister. No modern mortal could possibly know how to complete the ritual."

Apollo smiled at Artemis and turned his attention back to the luscious nymphs. Now that his fears for the mortals surrounding them were alleviated, he allowed himself to enjoy the eternal grace of the ancient ritual. It was a rite so powerful that he could not remember the last time the nymphs had preformed it in the Old World. They possess such ethereal beauty, he thought as he allowed the spell to touch him and wrap around his spirit. Their invocation was pure and heartfelt. As usual, the nymphs desired only to please mankind, and Apollo felt the immortal essence within him respond to their plea. At that moment he wanted to stride amongst the dancing nymphs and allow the mortals a glimpse of his true power. He wanted to reveal to them the glory of a living, breathing god, and then grant those of them who were most deserving the desires of their hearts, even though he knew it was an impossible fantasy. Zeus had forbidden their meddling with humans, and he had to admit that for once he agreed with his father. Modern mortals were best off without the interference of ancient, forgotten gods. But as the nymphs' ritual washed magically around him, the thought that these mortals no longer looked to Olympus made him strangely sad. Apollo felt flushed with equal parts of power and disappointment as the ritual came to its climax.

"Immortal aid is bound

with a spoken desire, and by a heart's sound.

Cast doubt aside; give voice to your soul,

for tonight the truth of love is our goal.

May heartfelt wishes come to thee

as it is spoken - so shall it be!"

As the closing words of the invocation were spoken, Apollo and Artemis suddenly felt an inexplicable pull, as if their minds had been tethered and whoever held the reins had just given them a tug. Their golden heads turned as one to stare at a small, round table that sat in the area built to look like an old-world Italian patio in front of the entrance of the little wine bar. Brother and sister watched in horror as a petite mortal who was sitting alone knocked over her long-stemmed glass, causing the delicate crystal to shatter and slosh red wine. The power lingering in the air caught the spilling wine, magically distributing it around her in a perfect scarlet circle. The mortal hastily tried to mop up the growing pool of wine with her linen napkin. Then she made a small sound of dismay as her finger caught on one of the glass shards, cutting a neat slice through her soft skin.

"No!" Artemis gasped as the mortal's blood mixed with the Italian wine.

"She can't - " Apollo began, but his horrified words were cut off as the woman opened her mouth and uttered the words that would forever alter their lives.