Chapter 4

"Eh, that's the general idea. Now, there are some difficulties. I mean, after all, if it were too simple I would have dispatched Hera."

Suddenly his eyes widened. "Oh, oh, I didn't see you, my dear. Just joshing with the boy! Kidding around, you know!"

Hera glared. Fortunately for Zeus she was distracted, seeing Cupid practicing archery in the flowery garden. "Hmmph! Men!" she murmured as she went into the garden.

"The object - well, I must confess, it is not an object. It is . . ., " He lowered his voice, glancing toward the garden. "It is a young lady whose beauty would adorn Olympus. I would have you invite her to the Olympian Spring Ball. Not a bad task, eh."

Zeus nudged him with his elbow while keeping an eagle eye on the garden. "Just let her know that the Gods look kindly upon her, and that she will be the guest of honor. She can't possibly refuse. Oh, by the way, her name is Medusa. Lovely girl, Medusa."

Now, what is the hitch? Zeus talks so kindly. Yet he is a wily one. An invitation to a beautiful girl to attend a spring festival? Why me? Would not an Olympian messenger, Mercury perhaps, have served better. After all, I have no credentials.

So his thoughts rambled as he proceeded northward.

And I know not where she dwells, nor do I know her appearance.

A bleak stretch of land lay ahead. Empty, barren, dotted with boulders it stretched well into the distance. At his pace it would require a fourth of a day to traverse. He moved across the open space cautiously, checking behind, to either side. He liked not being in the open, exposed to eyes he could not see.

Surrounded by forest, the open area exposed him to the view of foes who might wait among the trees. And in a strange land any might be a foe. Wild animals certainly wandered here. And outlaw bands who prey on lonesome travelers. He looked around more carefully. Bushes and shrubs formed a narrow border, beyond which giant evergreens loomed. In unknown territory, he felt the weight of unfriendly gaze following his progress.

On reaching the other side of the open meadow he glanced back, and his own eyes widened.

He shuddered.

It had entered the open stretch, crouched near the wooded edge. Now it dropped to the ground. Huge, misshapen, a travesty of a man, it lay quietly, motionless on the ground. Though distant, he knew it well.

The unseen companion!

Demo notched an arrow to his bow, felt the cool breeze on his fevered face. He drew the bow to its limit, shook his head.

Too far! The arrow would not carry.

He waited, but the creature lay quiet.

"What want you?" he shouted. "Why do you follow me?"

Silence.

Finally, with a shrug, he turned, started once more on his way. After a few steps he halted, looked back again.

It has disappeared! The broad expanse held now only boulders, small shrubs. Lifeless, bare, no hint of motion, other than from vagrant breeze.

Was it but a dream, an aberration in vision?

No! It was real. The bushes at the edge of the clearing were moving, disturbed by the passage of . . . He knew not what. He knew, though it had slipped into the brushes, it would return to his trail. Whatever it be, their destinies were intertwined.

But days ago I knew only my Mother, Theresa and her family well. And a few others but only to a small extent. Suddenly I walk and talk with Gods, and Goddesses - yes, and with imps. And I am followed by something, by a being unlike any other. What does it all portend? The thoughts repeated themselves as he view the clearing.

A foreboding crossed his mind.

One of us shall not survive the tasks of Zeus!

Ever northward he trekked. He did not know why, only that his feet were guided by Zeus. His quest was to the far north.

Game were plentiful, and he ate well. At times he partook of venison, at times of fish from the streams. Rarely, he ate not.

After one repast he knelt by a quiet brook, washing his face and hands.

In the water he saw a visage not his own!

He turned quickly, rose to his feet.

The unseen companion had faded into the undergrowth.

"Come out and face me, coward! Do not skulk and hide, recreant!"

Perhaps a tree branch moved, perhaps a footfall was heard.

Then, nothing.

His eyes widened, as he thought to himself, I must be on my guard. Whatever it is, it becomes bolder with each passing day.

He followed a stream, a path along its edge. The path widened as he climbed upward, and at times footprints could be discerned. A dwelling must lie not far ahead.

At evening he arrived in a small village at the foot of tall, snowpeaked mountains. He found an inn. Walls made from logs, with cracks filled with dried mud, and a rock fireplace as one wall, it formed one huge room. Animal furs, fur of deer, of bear, hung across from one wall to the other, sectioned off little bays where the traveler could rest in limited privacy. Through signs and much nodding and handwaving Demo bartered trinkets for such a room. The nights were growing cold, and this brief respite was welcome.

Suddenly a man standing by the door turned toward him, growled in mixed language at him. Strangely, Demo understood.

"Is he with you? What is he, and why does he loiter in the shadows?"

They crowded through the open doorway, gazing southward to the ravine he had so recently traversed. They stared fearfully toward the shadows at the mountain's base.

A creature, perhaps a man, stood huge in the shadows. It neither approached nor yet retreated. Even so, from it a threatening aura seemed to radiate.

The watchers moved nervously, whispered low one to another.

"No, not with me," he responded

"Begone! We want not you, nor his kind. Return him his treasures. "

The inn keeper reluctantly parted with the baubles he had received. Two were missing. Demo started to argue, realized it would be to no avail. Reluctantly he left the shelter.

"I know that creature! He has visited our village before. He brings pestilence, death. Begone, the two of you, quickly!"

They gathered outside the structure. One reached down to pick up a stone, then several others. Demo loosed his bow and they quickly shuffled inside, cursing and threatening.

Demo continued north. He didn't look back. He knew well that he was not alone.

His queries about Medusa led him now to one domain, now to another. Time after time, each lead ended without location of the fabled damsel. Until, at last, in a village on the slope of the mountains, he received guidance that seemed to hold worth.

The sun had set, and evening stars were beginning to make appearance. To the north the little bear could be seen. The air had the feel of coming frost. The great hunter moved across the cold winter sky, followed by his faithful hounds.

"Feel the air, young man! Is there not a storm brewing? A blizzard? Medusa has been deserted by her lover. Her countenance is hard. The chill winds will blow, the lakes freeze over, and living things shall freeze and die. For her heart has grown cold."

The old crone rubbed her hands together for warmth, continued.

"Until she takes again a suitor, the world will suffer from her rejection. Even now, there, beneath the little bear, she waits in her icy cave."

The night wind began to blow and the chill crept through his clothing. "Beneath the little bear, then, will I find her?"

"She is there. And she is dangerous. If you value your life, end this quest. She strikes out in her anger, uncaring for any. If you go on, beware the great white bear. He guards her by day, and by night." The old woman turned away, hobbled awkwardly to her frigid mountain hut.

She stood in the doorway, looked at him intently. "Your companion, why does he lurk in the shadows? He has nothing to fear from me."

He did not reply. He knew not himself the reason for the evil presence.

Game became increasingly scarce.

He was lucky when a rabbit crossed his path. And even these were few in number, lean in build. Scrub brush served to cook those few he killed.

The winds wailed, the snow peppered down, then settled in huge white flakes. At times the storm stilled and he traveled on in a world where day was night, night day. Across the skies strange colored images danced, twisting and turning. Here seemed a world deserted by Zeus, left to the ministrations of lesser Gods.

The world was enveloped in a blanket of white. At times he sank into its depths. At other times, frozen, it supported him as well as solid ground. And still the snow fell, wind-driven.

With cessation of the wind he could hear, though from a far distance, the crunch of footsteps on the frozen snow. Hidden in the fog or by the falling flakes, the unseen companion was ever with him, ever following.

Even when the snow ceased the air held a strange opaque whiteness, as though the world were immersed in milk. At such times even his hand before his face was not visible. He dared not travel on, knowing he would circle helplessly in the blinding whiteness.

Slowly the white out lifted. The barren snow covered wasteland stretched endlessly.

He pressed on. There was little choice.

At times the storm died, the skies cleared. Crystalline bright the stars shone down. Still the hunter, now directly overhead and to his south, marched across the wintry sky. The pole star gleamed softly, a constant beacon.

But the storm quickly returned.

And then they met!

Invisible in the snow bank it lurked, marked his presence, waited to attack!

The great white bear moved quietly, without a warning growl. It charged down upon him, its huge jaws wide. Its clawed paws reached out to seize him.

Quickly he strung his bow, notched an arrow!

As he drew the cord, the snow settled beneath his foot. He felt himself slipping.

He fell, rolled downhill!

Demo slid halfway across a frozen pond. Thick, fat flakes of white touched his face. They melted in cold trickles as he lay half conscious.

Suddenly the ice gave way beneath him!

Even as he sank he saw, blurred upon the shore, two monsters in mortal combat.

The great white bear!

And another. One he knew too well.

The bitter cold of the icy waters enveloped him. Through he forced his arms and legs to move, to try once more to rise to the surface, it was to no avail. The freezing cold quickly changed to numbness, then oblivion.

Warmth! He felt warmth!

Not since he had left home had he felt such wonderful, gentle, soothing warmth.

He slowly opened his eyes, then closed them in disbelief. The girl ministering to him outshone even Athena in beauty. Slender, yet with the smooth curves of a mature woman, she held his gaze. Her face, though pale, mirrored beauty found only in one's dreams. Her lips, soft and pouting, were warm and red. Her face expressed concern, and her eyes expressed compassion.

Her hands lightly massaged his body, and wherever they touched a glow of warmth spread through him. He recalled the icy cold of the lake, and his eyes widened.

"How am I here? Who are you? How did I escape the icy depths?"

Placing a finger to her lips, she smiled, exposing the whitest of teeth. "Shhh. Rest. I will explain it all, in good time."

Even as she spoke he closed his eyes, fell into fitful sleep in which he dreamed he was in her arms; then, dreamed he was carried in the arms of another, more hideous being.

He awoke with a start as the ravaged lips of the loathsome monster touched his own. Sitting up he saw no one. Finally, in the far corner of the room, he saw her. She rose slowly, from the fireplace dipped warm soup from an iron kettle.

Bringing the bowl with her she sat on the edge of his cot, slowly fed him the warm broth.

"He brought you here. Your friend. He brought you in from the blizzard, frozen and cold, and left you with me. In spite of cold and storm, he would not stay. He retreated into the blinding storm as though escaping an enemy camp." She shook her head in puzzlement.

"First, though, these words he said I should say to you." She thought for a moment.

"The time is not now. You have your destiny to fulfill. By the tarn shall all be resolved. Strange words, these. Do you understand his meaning?"

"No, I understand only that a great white beast attacked me. I fell, rolled into the frigid waters of the lake. I saw them, doing battle on the lake shore. After that I remember the cold, then nothing."

"He killed the great white bear. No mortal could achieve that victory. You have a mighty friend and protector."

"No friend of mine. He has followed me, always near, ever fearsome. I know not his purpose, but in some strange way our fates are intertwined. Would I understood it better."

"Why sojourn you in these far reaches. Did none warn you of the dangers?"

"I journey at the behest of Zeus. I seek Medusa, to invite her to the great Olympian Ball, where she will reign as queen. Do you know of her, know where I might find her?"

"Zeus! The Great Olympian Ball! I am Medusa. It is strange that you have you not heard my story. Do you not know the danger you face, merely being here with me?"

"I know nought of danger. I see but a damsel of excellent beauty, and need fear only for my heart."

She smiled at his words, then her face took on a look of sadness.

"I am condemned. I pass from wild happiness and joy to deepest misery and sorrow. And those who look on me in my happy times love me, and those who look on me in time of my distress grow cold and fearful, and are no more. No one warned you! Ah, Zeus, how can you be so unkind!" She sobbed.

"Look upon my face, for I am in a gentler mood. Beware, if you hear me lament, or see an angry trickle from my eye, look not upon me, but go your way swiftly." She placed the empty bowl on the table.

"Do you see these glistening white walls? They were formed at a time when I felt the miseries of the world upon me. The glaciers, the icebergs, the frozen wastes - all these I formed. At times, when I bask in the warmth of love, they fade, they melt. Again alone, once deserted, I form them anew." She smiled at him, touched his hand.

"I thought, perhaps, Zeus had sent you to me. Yet while you lay abed in your sleep, in your dreams, I find you love another. It is well, for my warmth shall not last. Come, let me show you my chamber of horrors. A chamber of horrors of my own doing."

She conducted him out into the cold. All around statues stood in various guises. All men. Warriors. Hunters. So detailed, so well sculpted, they seemed to lack only breath to move and walk.

"These I have loved, and in my anger destroyed. They stand there, a constant reminder of my uncontrollable nature. Even now, as I look at them, my heart moans. Begone, Demo, quickly, for a bottomless sorrow engulfs my heart. Quickly! And do not look upon my face, if you value your life!"

He started to turn toward her, but she grabbed his shoulder and turned him away. Even as she did the touch of her hands sent a chill through his body.

The warmth was gone!

"Tell Zeus Medusa shall attend the ball. Fare the well, young man. Now, flee for your life."

The calm air was stirring, and pellets of frozen snow that had been peppering the icy landscape were now blown wildly about. The wind mounted in howling fury, and soon the blizzard was upon him. He rushed southward, not daring to look back.

It was no longer the unseen companion alone he feared.

"You're back!", Zeus roared in evident surprise. "Well, yes, you're back. Been expecting you. Eh, nothing unusual about Medusa, I take it. I mean, nothing strange and, eh, stultifying?"

"A beautiful lady, sire. She welcomes your invitation, and shall attend the ball."

"The ball, yes. She will attend the ball! Zounds! What to do? Well, it may serve my purpose. I shall invite some special friends. Oh yes, very special friends! My charming brother Pluto. Serve him right. And a few other who have done me dirt. The ball is in the third month. And Medusa is in such a mood that month! Yes, I must invite some very special friends."

Zeus rubbed his hands together and smiled cherubically.

"Oh, Demo, of course you are invited."

What dreams do children dream?

Persephone sat quietly on a wooden bridge. Her legs dangled down, her tiny white feet broke the surface of the stream. The crystalline waters of the rivulet bathed them softly. A hummingbird darted near the water's surface, a brilliant winged jewel. At times it whirred motionless above the water. Then angry at the reflected beauty below, dived heedlessly, only to rise again as the rapid beat of its wings distorted the liquid mirror.

Persephone smiled, watched with amused attention.

Another hummingbird approached, and soon the two flew away, the first in angry pursuit. A tiny warrior protecting his domain.

Persephone closed her eyes, leaned back to bask in the warmth of the sun. The music of the stream, the softness of the breeze, the quiet solitude of her garden lulled her into a light slumber.

And as she slept, she dreamed.

Games of tag, of skipping ropes, of dolls ran through her mind. Friends she had known, kitty cats, and puppy dogs. Climbing the tall oak tree and seeing the big, wide world from its great height. Swinging on the swing beneath the tree. The taste of blackberries, of cherries, of fresh peaches.

The dreams of childhood.

Her mother, holding her, hugging her. Her mother's smile.

Colored stones, and crystals, and flowers. Beautiful dresses, and grown-up parties yet to come.

A far-off day and the arrival of a handsome prince, a marriage, living and playing together as children.

Children of her own, and she would mother them as her mother had done for her. Cookies, and pies, and cream covered berries.

Dolls for her girls, and swords for her brave boys. She would sew for them, and of a night tuck them into bed. She would tell them strange stories of magic worlds, and real.

Ah, the happy world, the beautiful world.

What dreams do children dream?

"Grim!"

"Inexorable!"

"Pitiless!"

"Passionless!"

"Without feeling!"

"Devil!"

"These have I been called!"

Pluto sat in his chariot on the mountainside, the mounting storm surrounding him. Gusting wind screamed, and pelting rain drove from the skies. The fury of the storm matched the fury in his voice.

"Without feeling! Then why burns this loneliness within me! Why thirst I for the companionship denied me! Was it by choice this form is mine!"

A sob was in his voice.

Gloomily he bowed his head, shook it. Reluctantly he took the reins, returned once more to the nether regions where he held sway.

Yes, even the devil weeps.

6. Escape from Tartarus

"Young man, I'm becoming increasingly dependent on you. You have carried yourself well indeed. Athena may well have chosen a worthy mate." Zeus' smile was effusive, his manner friendly and brisk.

"I've just gotten word from the CIA (Clever Information Activities) that something is astir in Tartarus. I do hope you recall your history."

"Tartarus? Well, sire, I recall vaguely that the Titans dwell therein. And that it lies far beneath even the depths of Hades."

"Astounding? The boy has genius! Ah, you must have cheated in school. I'll bet you studied! Sneaky way to pass a course. Regardless, right you are. But there is more." Zeus paced back and forth silently, looking down, a slight frown on his face.

"The CIA tells me that Megalith, a veritable giant among giants, has assumed power. . . . However, first, let me mention a bit more geography."

Zeus sat at his desk, punched a few keys on his computer, and displayed a map labeled Tartarus. "Computer, display the boundaries."

The computer hummed and whirred for a moment, then displayed the same map, but with boundaries highlighted.

Zeus smiled in delight. "Pac-man it isn't, but it's still a great toy." He frowned momentarily. "Beats me at chess. I have plans for that programmer. Long vacation with my brother Pluto."

"Computer, give us an image of Megalith, hear?"

The computer once more hummed and whirred. A few words appeared on the screen. Zeus read them, grunted. "All right, all right! I'll do it your way! Computer, display Megalith."

The computer did some more of the h & w routine, displayed a muscular warrior, standing quietly, a bemused expression on his face.

"Looks peaceful enough, doesn't he. Ah, beware! That quiet face belies the turmoil within. He, young man, is plotting the escape from Tartarus! The escape that must be thwarted!"

Zeus stared for a moment at the computer screen. He sighed.

"You know, of course, that these - the Titans - are our forebears. I would we could live in peace with them, but it is to no avail. Out of the goodness of my heart I granted them asylum in Tartarus. Yet they are not appreciative. They want to escape. What a strange term! Who would escape from Paradise!"

The computer displayed a pair of arms, waving desperately.

"Yes, yes, what is it. Oh, I mean, Computer, Speak."

"Oh Great and Mighty One, Master of the Universe, Benefactor of all mankind, . . . ," the computer began in a subservient voice.

"Computer, cease. I know all that. Get to the point. Computer, Speak."

"News of Tartarus, Master. Megalith has secretly had installed an express elevator from the basement right up to the earth's surface. He is even now contracting with the SkyHigh Elevator company to extend it to the top of Olympus. Fortunately SkyHigh is asking an exorbitant price. They have a monopoly on the elevator trade, so they are likely to eventually obtain the asking price. For now, however, Megalith is examining other alternatives. He was visiting the local Ultralight assembly plant. And it is said his agents have contacted the Rocketeers Club. No additional data at this time, Sire."

"And now, back to our commercial. Oh Great and Mighty one, Master of the Universe . . . " Zeus turned off the computer.

"He has already made his first move! An elevator indeed! And an extension to the peaks of Olympus! Zounds!"

"My boy, my plans have changed. This may require more than the skills of an earthling. I shall don human form, and I shall accompany you. The might of Megalith must be met! Ah, I like the sound of that! Permit me to repeat, The might of Megalith must be met!" He let the words roll sonorously from his lips, a slight smile on his face.

"Once considered the theater, you know. Actually, this God thing is much more fun - sometimes."

Two figures moved cautiously to the bank of the river Styx. Dark and smoothflowing the river arose from pale mists in the distance, and faded once more into mists as pale.

The sojourners moved slowly along the river's edge. One, a white-bearded elder, shuffled along supported by wooden rod. The other, younger and vigorous, darted ahead, returned, then darted ahead again.

"I think I shall tie a string to your leg, as though you were a June bug. Just calm down. There is no danger."

"For you, perhaps not. Still, I know he is here. I can feel his presence. In every sojourn he has been with me."

"Ah, the unseen companion! Yes, I too note an irksome presence. Nevertheless, nothing shall come of it this day. Trust me."

Demo glanced at the old man, Zeus. For it was indeed these two, long removed from the heights of Olympus. "Trust you . . . ? I knew this used chariot salesman once . . . Well, never mind." He noted the look of concentration on Zeus' visage. "No real correspondence. I was just thinking out loud."

Zeus regarded the river Styx with distaste.

"Most foul stream, this. I was in a vile mood when I loosed it from the bowels of the earth. Unpleasant odor, too. Fetid, in fact. Perhaps Pluto is right, a little landscaping and environmental cleanup are needed. I'll make a note . . ."

"Beware, my lad, that you drink not of these waters. Though you be of the most placid nature, but a sip from this stream and you shall rant against the world. Here has the essence of hate been distilled, and it flows forever at the edge of Hades.