The Tarn of Eternity Part 34

"Know you of Scylla? The six headed monster who takes her toll on those following their trade on the sea? Go where she waits her prey, and look there for Glaucus. For there was a time, before Circe in anger molded this hideous creature, that Scylla was a maiden fair. Yes, a maiden loved of Glaucus. Search for him near that abode, for he will not wander far from his true love."

Through the night Demo slept in the gentle tide, washed by warm waves. The phosph.o.r.escent sea stretched as far as eye might follow, dropping below a distant horizon. Flying fish played above its surface, and seahorses danced beneath. All was silent, save for the soft waves caressing the sh.o.r.e.

He dreamed.

Of Athena, of home, of what he had now become.

The roar of incoming waves awoke him. A seafog covered the sh.o.r.eline, and heavy waves were forming with the incoming tide.

He dove into the oncoming wave, swam deep to calmer waters.

There played bigeyed b.u.t.terfly fish, colored with a palette of white and black and orange. Silversides swam, and among the floating weeds wanderer crabs creep. Seahorses cavort, and at times the young were exploded in droves from the fathers pouch.

Sh.o.r.eward, where rocky outcrops lay, seasnails moved slowly, devouring the algae on their way.

He sensed, rather than saw, their approach.

They came swiftly. The Dolphin swimming in happy glee, Glaucus following at a more subdued pace. After explanations Glaucus willingly accompanied him to Proteus lair.

The pact was sealed. Glaucus would be returned to his prior form. Proteus was to return once more to Poseidon's service.

"And myself?" Demo queried.

"It shall be as with Glaucus."

Proteus smiled, if one can say a squid smiles. At least, he grimaced.

"How, then, do we deal with Ocea.n.u.s? You know of his rekindled ambition. What can be done to placate one such as he?"

They talked long, examining the problem each from his own perspective. "It is a problem without solution!" exclaimed Proteus. "He seems invincible. Yet even he must have some weakness, some hidden defect that might be his downfall." Demo spoke with little a.s.surance.

"None. No, there is not niche in his armor. Any weakness in another is lacking in him. I should know. Weekly, before the Golden Isles fell to Glaucus, Ocea.n.u.s and I played round after round of golf on those sh.o.r.es. I observed him, talked to him, learned of his history. He opened up to me. I tell you, no, Ocea.n.u.s has no weaknesses."

"What, of all things, does Ocea.n.u.s most enjoy?"

Proteus sat quietly, only the tips of his tentacles wriggling.

"He enjoys thoroughly power. He likes, of course, a round of golf. And to talk. Little else."

"Ah, let us wend our way to Poseidon. There is much to be done."

Indeed there was. Day after day they worked with Poseidon, taught him skills foreign to his domain. With Proteus he visited the Golden Isles, the throne intended for Ocea.n.u.s, and learned much along the way.

"Proteus, when comes Ocea.n.u.s?"

"That I know not. But this I know, the waves shall not be still, nor the ocean calm, with his coming."

Demo woke with the leaping and bounding of the three-master.

The s.h.i.+p moaned in the throes of an angry sea. The planks bent and gave, and sea water sloshed in the hold. Above, the wind tore at the furled sails. The hawsers, stretched taut, groaned under the torment. Seabirds landed on the deck, sought shelter from the storm.

"Is it now? Has he come?"

Proteus, now in human form, nodded. "It is surely Ocea.n.u.s. I will address him. He will listen to me." Proteus spoke with little a.s.surance, his eyes watching the ever wilder sea.

"Ocea.n.u.s, 'tis I, your old friend, Proteus. We would meet with you, on the Golden Isles. Poseidon is amenable to concessions.

He would negotiate with you. This day we sail for the Golden Isles."

The words seemed to have little effect. Then, gradually, the winds died, and the waves grew ever smaller. A light breeze rose, steady, blowing toward the Golden Isles.

Quickly the sails were unfurled. The s.h.i.+p rode smoothly and swiftly toward the distant sh.o.r.e. In the bilge sea water continued to slop, gradually was dumped over the side.

"A gift, Zeus, from Poseidon." Demo handed Zeus a golf club, handle of gold.

Zeus frowned. "And what of my missive?"

"Given to him, Sire. He acknowledges that his payment has, indeed, been delayed. But, another matter might interest you. A terrible battle ensued between Poseidon and Ocea.n.u.s. The waters of the oceansea thundered upon s.h.i.+p and sh.o.r.e. Islands disappeared haplessly into the depths. Still they fought in ever more desperate anger.

They labored for a day, and only with nightfall did Poseidon finally dominate. 'Twas on the golf course of the Golden Isles, and as result of his win Poseidon retains mastery of the seas.

Ocea.n.u.s had the lead, then developed a nasty slice as they neared the 15th hole."

"Oh, yes, it really was a nasty slice. Ball flew right off the course."

"Golf, Poseidon, Ocea.n.u.s? Who rules the watery domains as they while away their time at such diversions?"

"I, your majesty. Great fun. Some minor problems. Washed away the rock of Gibraltar, which Poseidon kindly replaced. And, Sire, Poseidon invites you a golf match at your earliest convenience, where he would negotiate with you over the bill you submitted. I'd be more than pleased to run Olympus in your absence."

"Yes, I understand." Zeus weighed the club in his hands, took a hefty swing. "I'll surely join him. I doubt he knows that Proteus gave me lessons years ago. 'Twill be a most enjoyable game!"

He paused for a moment, eyes wide, as though watching a major catastrophe. "You . . . in my absence!" With a frown he walked toward the throne. "Where is my flagon of nectar. Good day, my lad!"

The river Lethe flows dark and deep in the nether kingdom.

Strange stories of the power of those waters spread among mankind.

One story was true.

Who drinks of those waters remembers no more.

Lost loves, friends, family - their vision fades away.

Hate, enemies, wars, catastrophes - all are gone.

Happiness, joy, taste of rare wines, flavor of good foods - all fade.

Victories, defeats. Catastrophes, triumphs. Gone, all gone.

A blessing or a curse?