"Certainly not!" Eurydike gave Ren-e a sisterly hug while glowering daggers at Orpheus. "Ren-e gave me the strength to stand up and help myself, for a change. She was the only one who cared. Not like you!"
"Aw, babe, now come on, I cared!" Orpheus had the look of a man who was starting to miss the peace and quiet of the Underworld. "Was it my fault you didn't know you could've just walked out of there even after I blew it? I didn't even know that was possible."
"If you really cared about me you could've made an effort; done something like, oh, I don't know, maybe ask someone for advice about making a second try to get me out of Hades' kingdom? Someone like the Delphic Oracle, maybe? Seeing as how your father was Apollo? You know, Apollo the sun-god? Ring any bells? Apollo who established the shrine at Delphi and had the Oracle in his back pocket?"
"Chitons don't have pockets," Orpheus said. It was neither the time nor the place for such observations.
Musicians.
This time Eurydike belted him with a closed fist. He sailed across the room and knocked over a swan ice sculpture that had cost Dawkins a pretty penny. He moaned softly, a sound overwhelmed by the cheers of all the women present.
"Baby, I couldn't do that." Orpheus struggled to his feet, slipping on bits of shattered swan, and staggered back toward his wives. "I was too upset to think straight, and then I ran into the Scythian women and they tore me to pieces and for a long time all I had to my name was my head. I mean, that was totally bogus. And then-"
Eurydike thrust out her hand, palm foremost. "Spare me. Which is more than I'm going to do for you." Her fingers curled into claws. There was an ugly glint in her eye. Maenads tear their living victims to shreds while under the influence of the grape, and Scythians were known to operate under the influence of hemp, but Eurydike's murderous rage was more terrifying, being the product of ice-cold sobriety.
Female empowerment is not a pretty thing. Not for the men involved, at any rate.
Lest any think that Orpheus stood ready to accept the dire punishment that Eurydike was about to deal him, I must correct that misapprehension. Apollo's son was already preparing his defense. I heard him begin to hum under his breath, preparatory to bursting into omnipotent song, though for the life of me I could not identify the composition.
"Heaven help us, I can name that tune!" Beddoes voice constricted with terror. " 'It's The End of the World As We Know It. If he's going to die, he's going to take us with him!"
"Coward," Eurydike snarled. "Apocalypse is the last refuge of the scoundrel. You forget that I'm not afraid to die. Been there, done that." She took another step forward. A fine dew of nervous perspiration spangled Orpheus' brow, a look of desperation lit his eyes, and he opened his mouth to sing.
"Stop! Stop in the name of the Law!" Langley's shout broke Orpheus' concentration and interrupted Eurydike's relentless approach. The bold young man threw himself between the two of them with a fine disregard for his own safety. A slip of paper, blazing white as Zeus' own thunderbolt, flashed under Eurydike's nose.
"Madam, my card," he said. "Why settle for wreaking mere physical mayhem on this churlish Party of the Second Part when I can see to it that his sufferings last for decades?"
"Huh?" said Eurydike.
Langley gave her his most jury-swaying smile. "My dear nymph, I assure you: Disembowelment is a walk in the park next to a good old-fashioned lawsuit." He linked arms with her and led her away, to the plaudits of the crowd.
The case never did make it to court. That was a mercy, considering how poor Dawkins was on the verge of death by humiliation at the thought of his bride being a material witness in so scandalous a legal proceeding. In fact, he was actually smiling and very much at his ease when next we two met one another at the Club some three months later.
"Good heavens, Pinch," I exclaimed upon seeing him. "You are looking remarkably content."
"And why shouldn't I be?" he countered. "Married life agrees with us."
"I am heartily glad to hear that you and Ren-e have managed to overcome the recent unpleasantness at your wedding and forge on undaunted," I said.
"Yes, she's a fine little woman, Ren-e. Oh, sometimes she gets a fit of the sulks, but whenever that happens we can always count on Eurydike to jolly her out of it."
"What?" I said.
He continued as though I had not spoken. "Of course Eurydike's problem's her temper-no surprise given what she went through, abandonment issues, et cetera, et cetera. Every so often she'll give Orpheus one of those looks that says 'If you leave your wet towels on the bathroom floor one more time, I'm going to rip your arm off and beat you over the head with it, but then I pop the two of them into the Beemer and drive them to their Anger Management session and it all works out."
"Eurydike?" I repeated. "Orpheus? But- But- You can not possibly mean to say that they are living under the same roof with you and Ren-e!"
"Why not?" Pinch replied. "We're married."
And so they were. So young Langley informed me, at any rate. Although under normal circumstances death is the finale for most marriages, the return to life by three of the parties involved legally negated any such termination. (There was a precedent for it somewhere in Southern California. There would be.) I attempted to argue the point with him, but he showed me his briefs and left me speechless. That was that: They were married. All of them. To each other.
"Really, Pinch, how can you accept all this so calmly?" I pressed. "Surely Orpheus claims conjugal rights with the ladies?"
"Certainly. They're his wives, too."
"This does not bother you?"
"I admit, it does, particularly when the girls make certain… comparisons. But hey, whenever Orpheus goes on the road, I get them both all to myself, so I can't complain. Honestly, old man, sharing the affections of your wives isn't such a big thing if you view it in the light of the greater good this marriage has accomplished."
"Ah," I said, nodding wisely. "So true. For once in our history, the Club has met the challenge of a mythic incursion and emerged unscathed."
"Even more important than that," Dawkins said, "I've finally found the way to get my money's worth out of that damned unfair family membership!"
I sighed. Fiat pecunia, ruat caelum, as Dawkins would have it. Let there be the M-word, though the heavens fall. Clearly the man had dropped beyond the Pale, if he had so abandoned all pretense of social propriety in favor of mere monetary advantage. Despite his fortune, he had plunged willingly into his own pecuniary Avernus, never to emerge. He was, alas, no longer one of us.