SONS OF THE TITANS

PATRICK H. ADKINS

ACE BOOKS, NEW YORK

This book is an Ace original edition, and has never been previously
published.

SONS OF THE TITANS

An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author and the author's
agent, Ralph M. Vicinanza, Ltd.

PRINTING HISTORY

Ace edition / August 1990

All rights reserved. Copyright © 1990 by Patrick H. Adkins.

Cover art by Michael Racz.

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10 987654321

To Dixie-

for love and understanding, and deathless patience.

Introductory Note

The age of titans was little known even to the ancient Greeks
themselves, and our knowledge of those elder gods of Greek mythology is
still more scanty.

This is the third in a series of volumes that reconstruct that lost
mythological era. Although a work of fiction, it is based upon extensive
research. Proper names appear in their original forms, transliterated
from the Greek, and the author has sought to maintain mythological
accuracy throughout.

The reader's indulgence is requested concerning any seeming
contradictions of established myth. A few of these the author hopes to
resolve in future volumes. The remainder reflect variant or little
known-but quite genuine-mythology, which is often crowded out of popular
reference works.

-Patrick H. Adkins

One

Distant, tinkling laughter brought the youth to an abrupt halt. His
handsome face broke into a smile and he reached back quickly to lay a
restraining hand on the hairy arm of his companion.

"Quiet, Aigipan," Zeus whispered. "Listen!"

As he spoke, he threw an arm around Pan's shoulders and drew him down to
a crouching position. They were both gods-beings of divine
proportion-and even though neither had yet reached his full height, they
towered above the groves of laurel and holly trees through which they
were walking. Now, with only their eyes and the tops of their heads
exposed above the waving treetops, they silently scanned the forested
hills that surrounded them.

A moment later the sound came again, much closer than Zeus had expected.
He turned to his companion and smiled a second time, his dark, full
eyebrows raised in silent question and his eyes gleaming.

Pan nodded back at him, large teeth grinning out from behind the
scraggly beard that had already begun to cover his youthful face. "Two
at least," he whispered, "maybe more."

He gestured ahead of them. "And near, brother-on the other side of this
hill, I think."

They crept forward silently, like seasoned hunters closing on their
quarry. As they approached the crest of the high hill, shrill voices
became more clearly audible, and at last they reached a point from which
they could look down into the hollow beyond.

Pan stretched out his arm and pointed downward toward a clearing that
lay off to their left, where three lithe figures ran and shouted, the
thin fabric of their short white chitons flapping and swirling around
them, revealing an abundance of well-rounded calves and thighs. Zeus let
out a long, deep sigh at this unexpected display of divine femininity.
Pan glanced at his companion, noted his rapt expression, and chuckled.

They had crouched down again to conceal themselves behind the trees at
the top of the hill. From this vantage point they had an unimpaired view
of the creatures below.

They were dryads-woodland nymphs. One carried a tree branch that had
been stripped of its leaves and smaller branches. She and her companion
tossed it back and forth as they ran, always managing to keep it out of
the grasping hands of the third nymph, who chased them.

Zeus sighed again.

"What's wrong, brother?" Pan asked.

"How lovely they are," Zeus said sadly. "How magnificent-and
unobtainable."

"We have a good chance this time."

Zeus shook his head. "Look how fine and nimble they are-how well they
run. We've no better chance of catching them than we had of catching any
of the other nymphs we've chased these past two days." Zeus studied the
other god's face fora moment, then said, "You were lying, weren't you?"

"When?" Pan asked lightly.

"When you told me all those stories about all those nymphs. You must
have been lying. I run much faster than you, but I haven't been able to
catch a single one."

Pan looked a tinge embarrassed. "I never said I chased them." He let his
attention return to the spectacle below.

"Then how did you catch them?" Zeus demanded. "If you didn't chase them,
then how . . . ?"

Pan turned back to face Zeus. "I didn't really want to tell you," he
said defensively. He paused, then continued with sudden intensity. "What
possible chance do you think I'd have otherwise? Oh, you could probably
talk softly and coax some pretty thing into letting you get within reach
of her- but look at me! If this face and nose weren't ugly enough to
make her keep her distance, one glimpse of my goat ears or these shaggy
shanks and cloven hooves that pass for legs and feet, and she'd vanish
into the forest before I could-"

"Then what do you do?" Zeus demanded.

Pan shrugged. "I hit them on the head with a stick. Not hard-just to
stop them for a few moments," he continued quickly, noting Zeus's
disapproving expression. "I sit quietly beside a trail and hope one will
happen by. Usually they don't, but every now and then I get lucky. Then
I pop up and-" He made a striking motion with his hand.

"You knock them unconscious?"

"Not usually. Usually it just stuns them."

"Doesn't it make them angry?"

"Well, yes, after they realize what happened. But I'm stronger than they
are."

Zeus shook his head. He looked down at the lovely creatures laughing and
playing in the hollow below them, then back at his companion. He had
never considered such a tactic, and it made him feel uncomfortable. It
seemed unfair somehow, and nearly as distasteful as purposely trampling
a bed of flowers. Of course Pan often stretched the truth, and the
handsome youth was not at all sure he should believe him.

"Oh, I knew I shouldn't tell you. I knew you'd be stuffy about it," Pan
said crossly. "Do you want to catch a nymph, brother, or are we going to
stay here and talk until evening? I have a plan. Do you want to hear
it?"

Zeus nodded quickly, grinning. "Certainly. Tell me!"

"If you circle around ahead of them and hide among the trees at the far
end of the clearing, near those two large rocks . . . and if I enter the
clearing from this end, not letting them see me until I come into the
open down there . . . what do you think would happen?"

"They'd run straight toward me!"

Pan nodded. "Yes, and you could remain hidden until they were almost
upon you."

"And when I jumped out at them, I'd probably frighten at least one into
fleeing back in your direction. It's a good plan, Aigipan. Let's try
it."

"There's only one problem," Pan continued thoughtfully, still staring
out across the treetops toward the dryads. "You should be able to catch
yours easily, but I'll probably come away empty-handed."

"Perhaps I can hold two of them-for a few moments anyway, until you join
me."

Pan looked unconvinced. "They're sweet as honey, and just as slippery."

"The plan is good. Let's try it-quickly, too, before they grow tired of
their game and vanish back into the forest."

Pan said, "If you had a club, you could clip them as they ran past you.
You wouldn't have to hit them very hard, and you wouldn't have to
wrestle with even one."

Zeus considered the proposal, but finally shook his head. "No. Let's try
it the other way."

Pan shrugged, and a moment later the divine boys began moving stealthily
toward the clearing. Pan disappeared down the steep, forested bank into
the hollow, while Zeus traveled some distance along the top of the hill
before descending. He moved slowly to avoid making noise.

Finally he reached the position Pan had indicated and worked his way
into a dense thicket of tall trees. Carefully parting the branches, he
peered out. The dryads were not thirty paces away now, and Zeus settled
down to observe at close range the enchanting movements of these strange
creatures as they sprinted and scampered about the clearing.

How lovely they were, how desirable-and how utterly different from Ida
and Adrastia. The two nymphs who had helped rear him were loving,
matronly beings, so unlike these tantalizing goddesses of the wilds that
they might as well have belonged to a completely different species.

As he watched, his head filled with the elusive curved softness of lush
female forms, he became so absorbed in his pleasant pursuit that he
momentarily forgot why he was hiding near them. He found himself as
startled as the nymphs, at least for an instant, when something emerged
abruptly from the forest at the opposite side of the clearing.

The great god Pan lurched out of the trees and stumbled toward them, the
long cloak that served as his only clothing pulled up high to free his
awkward goat legs for running. His long goat ears stood up-perked. His
arms were outstretched and an enormous grin spread completely across his
face. For an instant the nymphs stood frozen, staring at the intruder.
One began to titter at the absurdity of the thing rushing toward them,
but then-as the mad apparition drew ever closer-her laughter became a
shriek. Turning, the three nymphs fled-directly toward the place where
Zeus lay concealed.

He waited until they were almost upon him, then sprang up when the first
came within reach. She let out a startled cry as he lunged for her. His
hand fell on her arm, the fingers tightened around her warm, yielding
flesh, and he pulled her toward him. Already he could smell the fresh
intoxicating scent of her body. As he reached for her with his other
hand, she swung around and struck him in the face, then kicked him in
the shin with her heel. By now the second and third nymphs were upon
him, too. They ran straight into him, knocking him down and stepping on
his chest and legs as they rushed past.

By the time he managed to sit up, Pan had reached him. "I told you," he
muttered as he ran by. "You should have hit them on the head." One of
his hooves grazed Zeus's arm.

Zeus watched the last of the nymphs disappear among the foliage,
followed by the lumbering figure of Pan. He got up slowly, brushed off
the grass and twigs that clung to him, then walked after them. At first
he went slowly, but soon other instincts overcame his chagrin and he
increased his pace. Those he followed were still out of sight, hidden by
the towering trees that predominated here, but an occasional laugh,
teasing and enticing, floated back from somewhere ahead to goad him on;
and he could clearly hear both the sounds of Pan's rough passage through
a nearby thicket and the god's loud imprecations as he tore his way
through the obstructing vegetation.

Soon Zeus found himself on a more clearly defined path. He was out of
the valley now, and a narrow trail led upward, through ever higher
foothills toward a high mountain in the distance. He paused to scan the
way ahead. Not more than a hundred paces away one of the dryads appeared
atop a rocky knoll. She caught sight of him, flashed him an engaging
smile, then turned and continued running up the trail. The temptation
was irresistible, and Zeus charged after her. The low hills through
which they passed grew ever larger, and the distant mountain nearer.

When he stopped again, it was to slump down beside a great tree. He
berated himself for letting the nymph lure him into her frustrating
game. He felt like a fool, and was more than a little angry. As he
rested, he looked out into the distance, trying to catch sight of Pan.
Eventually he glimpsed him on a distant hill, careening out of a grove
of pines and into a clearing, where he paused. Almost immediately one of
the nymphs beckoned from her place of concealment not far from where the
shaggy god stood panting, and with a shout he charged off after her.

Zeus laughed. If he was a fool himself, at least he had company. Briefly
he considered whether he should follow Pan or continue on his own path.
They often became separated during their excursions, and he felt
confident that they would find each other again soon enough. They always
managed to do so, somehow. While he debated, and before he could reach a
decision, a chiding laugh made him spin around and stare into the clump
of trees behind him. He caught a glimpse of dark hair and glittering
eyes; then the nymph was gone.

On and on he ran, up through the rolling foothills. Time and again he
paused, ready to abandon the chase; but always a half-seen figure or
half-heard sound drew him on.

When he stopped again, much later, he was well up the side of the high
mountain he had seen in the distance. He had lost sight of the nymph
some time ago, and was no longer following a clear trail. Huge pine
trees rose above him on every side. His aching feet led him to search
out a grassy hillock for a seat. He settled onto it, wiped his forehead
with the back of his hand, and began to rub his feet.

He and Pan had been traveling for the better part of two days, since
they had swum to the mainland from their island home. This was the sixth
group of nymphs they had chased- or was it the seventh? He was losing
count. Each time the same thing happened. Each time he ended up alone,
rubbing his exhausted feet.

As he sat brooding upon the inequities of his life, a doe appeared from
the bushes nearby and ambled toward him, apparently unaware of the god's
presence. Keeping himself perfectly still, Zeus waited until the animal
was very near his foot-which was considerably larger than the little
mortal creature's entire body. Then he wriggled his toes violently and
derived a modicum of malicious pleasure from watching the startled deer
shoot away in terror, back into the concealing underbrush.

Perhaps ten minutes passed while Zeus sat thinking and resting.
Amaltheia would be worried about them. And she would be angry, too, when
they finally returned. She was always especially unhappy when they
stayed away overnight. It was already late in the day, and a second
night would pass before they could reach home. Yes, he decided sadly,
Amaltheia would be very distressed, and he began to feel guilty about
the worry and pain their absence would cause her-but only for a few
moments. After all, he and Pan were practically grown now, and old
enough to be off on their own. Gentle Amaltheia would have to accustom
herself to such absences, he thought with a shrug.

A nearby rustling noise intruded on his thoughts. He ignored it. He was
angry, not merely with the elusive nymphs who had led him on this long,
fruitless chase, but with himself as well. He had allowed
himself-repeatedly-to be made a fool by these delectable creatures. He
had made up his mind to start back home. If, after reaching that firm
decision, he let them entice him still farther afield, he would be
doubly foolish.

Now, however, he detected another sound-a soft whistling. As he listened
more carefully, he realized that the whistling represented a tune.
Curious, he rose and walked silently in the direction of the sound.
Something was moving among the trees a little distance away, and he
cautiously crept forward until he reached a point from which he could
see clearly.

She was a comely creature, perhaps even beautiful, with a natural
dignity of bearing that immediately set her apart from all the dryads
and naiads he had seen these past two days. She was of medium height,
with short black hair that framed her face in a bouquet of loose curls.
Slender and well formed, she wore a long, flowing peplos of elaborate
contrivance that swayed fetchingly around her as she moved, or clung to
her body in ways that hinted broadly of uncommon delights concealed
beneath the thin, finely wrought fabric.

She strolled slowly among the tall trees, carrying a large, lidded
basket in one hand, and now Zeus crept after her at a safe distance.
Occasionally she paused to examine plants that grew nearby, and once she
stopped, knelt beside one that had particularly attracted her attention,
and withdrew a knife and a small piece of cloth from her basket. As Zeus
watched with growing interest, she carefully described a circle in the
soil around the shrub, then proceeded to dig. When she finished, she
lifted the plant out of the ground, wrapped its roots in the cloth, then
placed it carefully inside her basket.

Zeus followed when she moved on. When she stopped again, it was within a
large clearing. He positioned himself behind a thicket of trees and
silently parted the leaves and branches so that he could continue to
observe her. She had seated herself near the middle of the clearing and
was staring at a tall oak opposite her, apparently lost in thought.

She seemed completely preoccupied. If he were going to act, Zeus
decided, he would not find a better opportunity. As he turned to make
his way toward a point at which he could enter the clearing from behind
her, his foot struck something and he glanced down. It was a fallen tree
limb. He looked back at the nymph, then down again at the branch.

For two days he had been chasing nymphs up and down mountainsides,
across valleys and through forests. He picked up the makeshift club and
held it thoughtfully in one hand. For two days nymphs had taunted and
tantalized him. Now, finally, fortune was smiling upon him. Here was
such a creature for the taking, not thirty paces away, unaware of his
presence. He was in no mood to be thwarted again, and would be a fool
not to take advantage of the situation. Gripping the club more tightly,
he crept toward the entrance to the clearing.

When he reached it, the nymph was gone.

He looked about in bewilderment. Could she have moved away so quickly,
without him hearing her? Then he noticed her basket, which still lay on
the ground where she had placed it, near an oak tree-a majestic oak of
medium height which, he was almost certain now, had not been there a few
minutes before. He approached the tree, staring down through its leaves
and branches as he slowly walked around it. Near its base he discovered
the white peplos the nymph had worn and picked up the garment. A soft,
tingly femininity seemed to cling to it.

For nearly a full minute he scrutinized the tree; then he dropped to one
knee and reached out hesitantly toward the dark bark of its trunk. At
his touch, the tree blurred. An instant later the goddess stood where
the tree had been.

Two

"Thank you", she said calmly, retrieving her garment from his still
outstretched hand.

Rising, the young god staggered backwards. There could be no mistake.
Where a moment before a great oak had reached its stout branches toward
the sky, now stood a beautiful goddess-a beautiful, unclothed goddess.

"Who are you, boy?" she asked as she began to drape and adjust the
garment about herself with calm, deft skill. If his presence startled or
embarrassed her, neither her expression nor her manner betrayed the
fact. She was smiling pleasantly, but her jade-green eyes met his with
uncomfortable directness. "Where did you come from? I didn't see you
here a short while ago."

His attention was riveted on the cruel white fabric of her peplos and
the vanishing loveliness it so swiftly concealed.

"Won't you answer?" She fastened the final clasp on her clothing and
looked back up at him, her mouth wearing a smile that was probably meant
to set him at ease, but which also suggested that she was not completely
unaware of the effect her sudden, unadorned appearance had had upon him.

"Wh-what did you ask, my lady?" the young god finally managed to ask.
The club he had carried into the clearing now lay near his feet, where
he had dropped it when approaching the tree. He glanced down at it, then
back at the goddess.

"You could begin with your name. Who are you?" She appeared to be a
maiden not too many years past her own youth. Her eyes peered directly
into his in a way that compounded his discomfort.

"I'm called Zeus," he said hesitantly. Then, with sudden inspiration, he
gained time to compose himself by tossing the conversation back to her.
"You were a tree! How did you do that? Why did you do that?"

She laughed. "Trees are very interesting things, don't you think? Serene
in their might. Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to be a
tree?"

He shook his head.

For an instant an almost sheepish expression flickered over her face.
"Well, I have." Her voice sounded a tinge defensive, too. "And now I
know!"

"What's it like?"

"Very peaceful. Trees don't concern themselves overmuch with the ebb and
flow of daily life. The bark's cool and thick, and the breeze blowing
through the leaves is very pleasant-comforting. But be cautious if ever
you decide to try it. Unless you're very careful, you could remain a
tree far longer than you intended."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Inanimate objects can't think or remember-at least not as we do. When
you fully succeed in becoming such an object, you forget who you really
are. Unless you've made some provision in advance, you won't remember to
return to your natural form."

She was certainly beautiful, he thought as she spoke-certainly a worthy
prize. But something about her made him distinctly uneasy. He had never
before met anyone even remotely like her. Of course he had very little
experience from which to draw comparisons; his circle of acquaintances
was very small indeed, restricted until today to those with whom he had
grown up. Nevertheless, he felt certain that this goddess would seem
unusual in any group. She stood very near him, within easy reach, and he
was confident that he could overpower her with little difficulty, but
still he hesitated.

"Before the metamorphosis," she continued, "you must fix in your mind
the idea that you'll return to your own form at a certain time or under
certain circumstances. For instance, I was going to remain an oak until
the shadow of those trees over there"-she stretched out a long, slender
arm and pointed a delicate finger-"fell across my trunk. The difference
in temperature would trigger that fixed idea, and I would regain my
normal form. But instead you touched me." She tilted her head
thoughtfully to one side. "Actually, that shouldn't have had any effect.
I must not have been as completely metamorphosed as I thought...."

"But how do you do it? Change your body, I mean. I've heard of such
things before, of course, but I've never known anyone who could actually
do it."

"Why, almost all the gods can change forms, at least to some extent.
Where do you live, boy, to not know such things? Who are your parents?"

"I live far from here, on Crete, which is an island in the Great Sea. My
mother is called Amaltheia. I have no father."

"I see. Why are you here?"

"My brother and I left home yesterday. We set out roving, to see new
places, and became separated not long ago. Who are you, my lady? Where
do you live?"

"I am Metis, a daughter of Lord Okeanos and Lady Tethys. I live among
the Titans on Mount Othrys, in the palace my father maintains there,
though his kingdom lies far away at the edge of the world."

"You're a Titaness," he exclaimed, much impressed. "But why then are you
here in these woods?"

"I've been visiting with one of my sisters and her son, who live nearby.
Dione, another sister, is visiting, too. On such occasions I always make
a point of getting away by myself, at least for a short while. I find
places like this very refreshing, and I enjoy seeking out new and
curious plants to add to my collection...."

"As to metamorphosis," she continued, picking up an earlier thread of
their conversation, "it's both a skill and an inborn ability. There are
many who can't fully master it. Many others, with practice, become quite
proficient. Have you ever tried?"

Before he could reply, a distant cry interrupted them. Both remained
silent, listening, and then the sound came again. "Metis," someone was
calling. "Lady Metis!"

Grinning, the goddess twisted around to face in the direction from which
the sound had come. "Here I am, Cheiron," she called back. "Over this
way."

Three or four minutes passed before the owner of the voice came into
view. Zeus turned to watch as the handsome face and athletic upper torso
of a young god pushed through branches and thick leaves into the little
clearing. On the shoulder of the new arrival rode what appeared to be
diminutive god.

"There you are, mistress," the odd creature cried. His tiny fingers
quickly busied themselves, brushing twigs and leaves from his thick
black hair, smoothing his small, prim beard and short, white chiton.
"We've sought you far and wide, mistress, and for a very long time."

As they advanced into the clearing, the foliage fell away to reveal the
rest of the young god's body. Below the waist he was shaped like an
enormous stallion. His sleek black coat glistened as he stepped into a
patch of sunlight.

Metis hastened toward them. "Certainly you exaggerate, my little
Alalkomeneus," she said. "I only left you a short while ago." She lifted
the creature from the god's shoulder and carried him to her own. He
perched there happily, wrapping his fingers in her hair for support.

"It is as you say, Mistress of Swift Wisdom. But it certainly seems like
a very long time. We set out in search of you shortly after you left the
dwelling of Lady Philyra and Lord Cheiron."

"We mustn't let ourselves fall into rudeness, Alalkomeneus-after all,
one of your duties is to instruct Cheiron in the courtesies of Mount
Othrys."

The goddess turned toward Zeus, who was observing the new arrivals with
curiosity. "Lord Zeus," she continued, gesturing from one divine youth
to the other, "this is Lord Cheiron, son of the Okeanid Philyra, who is
my sister."

Cheiron nodded shyly, averting his dark eyes.

"And this," she continued, indicating the diminutive creature, "is wise
and talkative Alalkomeneus, first of mortals and king of the men of
Mount Pelion. He is also Cheiron's most worthy tutor-and my very good
friend."

The man bowed gravely.

"My friends," Metis went on, now addressing Cheiron and Alalkomeneus,
"This is Lord Zeus, son of Amaltheia. He is a stranger in this region,
having only arrived today on an excursion into unfamiliar lands. His
home lies far away on an island called Crete."

Each nodded appropriately.

"Now," Metis continued, "why have you sought me out? I told all of you
that I'd be back before the evening meal. Has something happened?"

"Lord Prometheus arrived soon after you left us," Cheiron said. He spoke
in an unusually soft voice, his eyes fixed upon the ground in front of
him. "He's very anxious to see you. He says that he needs to speak with
you about some affair of the Titans."

"He needs to speak with you as soon as possible, mistress," Alalkomeneus
said, interrupting. "We did not press him further, of course, since it
would have been unduly inquisitive to do so-and thus most rude."

"No more rude than interrupting Cheiron just now," Metis observed. "Go
on, Cheiron."

"Rather than wait for your return, Lord Prometheus thought it best to
begin searching for you. Since we didn't know which way you had gone,
Alalkomeneus and I offered to search in one direction while he searched
in another."

Metis nodded. "You did well. Prometheus wouldn't have come so far on
anything but a matter of importance. In which direction did he go? Shall
we hunt for him, or return to the cave?"

"We told him we'd bring you back to the cave if we found you.''

"Just as well." She retrieved her basket and popped open its lid, then
studied the contents briefly. "Not much to show for an afternoon
outing." She sighed wistfully. "But I'll not fret. Now I have an excuse
to return here all the sooner!"

Metis turned toward Zeus. "Would you care to come with us? I to sure my
sisters would like to meet you, and Cheiron lacks for companions of his
own age. I'm sure the two of you could find many things to discuss.''
She hesitated."But what of your brother? I suppose you must continue
searching for him."

"Oh, he'll be fine without me, my lady," Zeus answered quickly. "We
often become separated during our journeys."

Metis gestured toward the lofty peak that rose above them. "The cave of
Philyra and Cheiron lies high up Mount Pelion. The way is arduous at
times and-since Cherion doesn't like to fly-we'll have to travel on
foot. Still, you're welcome to accompany us if you care to."

Zeus broke into a spontaneous grin. "I'd like that very much indeed."

They made their way out of the clearing and through the thick trees,
then headed up a grassy slope. Cheiron ambled a little distance ahead
while Metis and Zeus followed at a steady pace. The mortal Alalkomeneus
rode on the goddess's shoulder, occasionally interjecting his own
observations into their divine conversation.

As they walked, Metis found herself studying the young god at her side.
She liked the quick intelligence she had glimpsed in his slate-gray
eyes, and the way his sable locks framed his high, broad forehead and
handsome face. He was sturdily built, tall for his age and well muscled,
with wide shoulders and a deep, broad chest. She scrutinized his
features whenever he glanced away from her. There was something quite
likable-and curiously familiar-about them.

Soon the grassy slopes gave way to towering pines again, and Cheiron led
them up a steep, narrow path.

Metis pointed ahead as they drew near the summit of the mountain. "It
looks tiny, doesn't it?" she said. "But that's only the entrance. Three
very large caverns lie beyond that small outer opening, one behind the
other. It's quite a roomy place to live-quite homey, too. My sister
keeps it scrupulously clean, and she's decorated and furnished it with
her handiwork. She weaves beautiful rugs and tapestries, and Cheiron has
become very skilled at woodwork."

A thin, pale goddess with dark hair emerged from the cave and stood upon
a broad, flat ledge. Metis waved to her, and a wan smile touched the
goddess's face in acknowledgment.

"So you've found her, Cheiron," she called back as they approached.
"Prometheus must still be searching. He hasn't returned yet."

Now a second goddess appeared upon the rocky ledge. When they at last
reached the level area in front of the cave, Metis set Alalkomeneus
aside on one of the large, flattened boulders that served as divine
stools and led Zeus toward her sisters.

"This is Philyra, the mother of Cheiron," she said, indicating the thin
goddess with weary features. "And this is Dione, yet another of my
numerous sisters. For many years she's lived in the Kingdom of Nereus,
the sea god, but occasionally she ventures outside that briny realm to
remind herself of what the rest of the world is like. She's been
visiting here for a few days now."

The second goddess smiled and inclined her head toward the youth. Zeus
smiled back, assaying her quiet beauty. She was more full-figured than
Metis, with soft, pale green eyes and long, dark hair. He sensed a
mature openness-and approachability-behind her amiable greeting and was
very glad he had accompanied Metis here. This new goddess was every bit
as attractive as the first one, and not nearly as peculiar.

Dione crossed the little clearing and seated herself on a boulder. When
Metis looked around again, she saw that Zeus had gone to stand beside
her and that the two were already deeply engaged in conversation. Before
she could follow them, Prometheus returned, grinning and waving as he
strode out of the forest below. Metis went to meet him.

"I hate to interrupt your holiday like this," he told her. "You know I
wouldn't-"

"Don't be silly," she said. "I'm flattered. It seems Mount Othrys can't
do without me for more than a single day. Catch your breath, then tell
me why you've come."

"Epimetheus has had another fight with Helios. This time he really got
himself hurt. Helios had Pallas and Perses along to help him, and they
taught my brother a lesson he's not likely to forget-but the wrong
lesson, I fear.''

"The wrong lesson?"

"Oh, you know what a dimwit Epimetheus is. He never thinks anything out.
He only reacts. And to make matters worse, Menoitios is egging him on."

"He plans revenge?"

Prometheus nodded. "Tonight, if he can drag himself out to find them.
What a fool he is, Metis. He can barely walk because of his wounds. He's
in no condition to fight anyone, yet-"

Metis frowned. "Does Iapetos know about this yet?"

Prometheus shook his head. "Epimetheus made me promise not to tell our
father."

"Bad promises are usually better broken," she observed thoughtfully.

"Epimetheus listens to you, Metis. Will you come back with me and try to
talk some sense into him?"

"Sometimes he listens to me, though I fear Menoitios has more influence
over him these days than I do. But I'll try. We certainly don't want yet
another feud to break out."

Metis turned toward Dione, who seemed even more deeply involved in her
conversation with Zeus. "Prometheus and I have to return to Mount
Othrys. Since you were planning to come with me when I returned, do you
wish to come now? Or would you rather remain here for the present?''

Zeus glanced apprehensively at Dione, fearing she would want to leave.

"Oh, I think I'll stay," the Okeanid answered. "Philyra and I have
barely begun our visit. I have much to say to Cheiron, and our new guest
is most interesting...." She glanced toward Zeus and gave him another
smile.

"That's best," Philyra agreed, wiping her forehead with her arm. "Let
Dione stay, and you can come back when you've straightened out the
Titans."

"May I accompany you, mistress?" Alalkomeneus asked. "I haven't been to
Mount Othrys in a long while, and we've had little time to spend
together of late."

"What of your people? Can they do without their king?"

"Certainly, mistress. They seem to manage quite well without me. Their
resourcefulness is a bit disturbing, actually. I sometimes feel they do
not really need me at all."

Metis laughed. "Then you most certainly may come. I'll be delighted to
have your company. I'm sure Cheiron can do without your instruction for
a few days. He can learn about the sea from Dione while you're away."

She retrieved her basket and gently placed Alalkomeneus inside it. A few
moments more were spent in kissing Philyra and Cheiron. Finally she
turned to say good-bye to Dione and Zeus. They were still talking, and
obviously enjoying each other's company greatly.

A flicker of annoyance that she found difficult to explain passed
through Metis, and as she watched them an odd thought rose unbidden into
her mind: She's flirting with my future husband! The thought startled
her, and she forced herself to laugh. What a ridiculous thing to think
concerning this untutored boy. She called to them, waved, then turned
quickly to rejoin Prometheus.

Zeus looked back toward them just in time to see huge, owllike wings
sprout from her back, where she had drawn her clothing aside. Prometheus
stood a short distance from her, similarly prepared for flight. As the
youth watched, their wings stretched and began to beat. A few moments
later they were soaring down the mountainside, toward the southwest.

"I must learn to do that!" the boy shouted as he watched them. Then he
swung around to face Dione again. "Can we see Mount Othrys from here?"
He had already decided that eventually he must make his way there and
see the home of the Titans for himself.

Dione nodded. "We have an excellent view from here. It's that broad
range in the far distance ahead of them. And if you look that way"-she
pointed toward the north-"you can see Mount Olympos towering above all
those lesser mountains."

Zeus looked back at the lovely face of the Okeanid. Yes, he thought,
there were many places he wanted to visit. But at the moment he was far
more interested in being right here, beside this lovely goddess. When
she glanced away, he edged a little nearer to her.

Cheiron called out to his mother. "We're low on firewood. I'm going down
to the forest to gather more."

Philyra nodded toward her son, then reentered the cave. Suddenly Zeus
found himself alone with Dione.

As he turned back toward her, he noticed the stack of firewood nearby. A
few sticks remained. On top of the pile lay a stout limb that bore a
striking resemblance to a club.

Three

Near the summit of one of the many peaks of Mount Othrys, within the
many-towered palace of the Titan Iapetos, Epimetheus limped painfully
down a long stone corridor toward the apartment of Menoitios, his
youngest brother. A dark cloak draped his broad frame and partly
concealed the sword that swung at his side.

Near the end of the corridor he tapped lightly upon a towering wooden
door and a voice from within invited him to enter. The massive door
swung inward easily at his touch. "Close it behind you," the voice told
him from across the room, and he struggled to comply.

A slender, handsome youth with long, dark hair stood near the rear of
the chamber, observing his elder's difficulty with a bemused expression.
He held a large bull mammoth in front of him, gripped between his two
hands. As Epimetheus advanced into the room, the mammoth reared suddenly
backwards, trumpeting and lashing left and right with its great tusks.

"There, there, Little Thunder," the young god said soothingly, now
shifting his grip so that he could stroke the creature's back with his
thumbs without weakening his hold. "It's only Epimetheus. You've no
reason to be frightened . . . well, not much reason anyway. He is quite
a startling sight, stumbling along like that, I must admit. And his
wretched taste in clothing would shock even the most primitive
sensibilities, I suppose. ..."

He grinned playfully as he spoke, then let the corners of his mouth
slide into a frown. "This is a new mammoth. I only captured him
yesterday. I almost had him calmed down, too, until you came in."

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Epimetheus asked with great seriousness
as he came to a stop a pace or two from the other god. He looked down at
his own simple cloak and short chiton, then back at his brother and the
intricately bordered garment of finest linen that he wore.

Menoitios laughed. "Nothing's wrong with them-if you don't care how you
look. They're so very plain."

Epimetheus shrugged. Just behind Menoitios a row of tall, wide windows
admitted light and air; below them a rectangular enclosure had been
constructed along the entire length of the wall, its outer edge rising
to above the knees of the young god. Epimetheus looked past his brother
and down into the enclosure, pausing briefly to study its interior. A
whole landscape had been transported from the earth below and
reconstructed here in a single narrow strip-low hills and rolling
grasslands, a narrow stream that meandered through groves of low-growing
juniper and tamarisk and laurel to empty into a small pond at the other
end of the terrarium, and animals of many kinds.

"It's coming along nicely, don't you think? Do you see the saber-tooth?
I've just added him, too."

Epimetheus nodded, then said, "It's almost time for us to go. You aren't
ready yet."

Menoitios bent over the edge of the terrarium and set the mammoth down
inside a little clearing. Two other mammoths were still grazing a short
distance away, and Little Thunder immediately set off to join them.
Menoitios turned and slowly crossed the room. He stretched himself
languidly upon a low divan.

"Aren't you going to get ready?" Epimetheus asked.

The youth lay on his side, his upper body supported on many large
pillows. "I've been thinking about that since I left you this morning."
He spoke slowly, a small, taunting smile playing on his lips. "I've
thought a great deal, and I'm no longer certain that I really should go
with you. After all, it's you who have a grudge to settle. Helios hasn't
done anything to me. Neither has Pallas, nor Perses. ..."

"You said you'd come with me." Epimetheus shifted his weight from one
foot to the other, and winced. "You said you'd help me punish them."

Menoitios rolled onto his back and held his hands together above his
chest, fingers touching. "Actually, I've always gotten along quite well
with all three of them. And I am not in love with Asterie," he continued
slowly. "If you hunt them down tonight and repay them for your
injuries.... why, you're completely justified. Everyone will say so, and
no one will argue the point. But if I do it, I'm merely an interloper- a
troublemaker."

"But Pallas and Perses are helping their friend. Why shouldn't you help
me? How is that any different?"

"Oh, but it's not the same at all." Menoitios's tone indicated surprise
at the comparison. "This isn't the first time you've argued with Pallas
or Perses. Isn't that true?"

Epimetheus looked puzzled. "We've argued, but we've never fought before.
They're annoying whelps...."

"Well, don't you see? They aren't meddlers helping their friend against
his enemy. All three are your enemies, each with his own complaint
against you, even if no blows were exchanged prior to last night. That's
very different from some uninvolved god stepping in where he has no
business. You can see that, can't you?"

Epimetheus nodded uncertainly, and Menoitios smiled. It amused him to
toy with his simpleminded brother, and for that reason he had led
Epimetheus to believe he would accompany him tonight. Actually he had
never intended to expose himself to such unnecessary-and
unrewarding-danger. At the moment it amused him to see if he could
convince Epimetheus to undertake the mission alone.

"You're right, of course, to feel that they must be punished," Menoitios
went on, now intent upon shoring up what he judged to be Epimetheus's
wavering resolve. "You look terrible!" he said suddenly, simultaneously
frowning and looking sympathetic as he stared at the ugly wound on his
brother's forehead. "What cowards they must be, to have kicked you like
that when you were already on the ground. Miserable cowards, Epimetheus.
No punishment is too great to repay such ill treatment."

"No punishment is too great," Epimetheus repeated. "They should be run
off from Mount Othrys."

"Why, if you were to lop off their legs and leave them wallowing among
the rocks, you'd be completely within your rights-at least as far as any
reasonable god would be concerned. As an added benefit, Helios couldn't
very well pester Asterie without his legs, and it'd take a while for
them to grow back. Even Father would think you did the right thing,
though of course he couldn't say so openly. He always has to try to
discourage everyone from fighting. But I know he'd be very proud of
you."

"You're right," Epimetheus agreed, his chest expanding a little at the
thought. "He couldn't say it, but it would make him proud if I taught
them such a lesson."

Menoitios sat up a little. "Actually, now that I think of it, I'd do you
a genuine disservice if I accompanied you tonight. I'd selfishly steal
away some of the glory that's rightfully yours, and I can't let myself
do that. You know, not everyone knows how brave you are."

Epimetheus was listening intently.

"I don't think even Asterie knows how brave you really are. Tell me,
have you planned out the evening? How will you exact your vengeance?"

Epimetheus shrugged. "I thought you'd figure out the best way.''

Menoitios lowered himself back upon the soft pillows. "I suppose I could
offer advice without unduly involving myself." He thought for a few
moments. "You must begin with the son of Hyperion, since he's the most
dangerous of your adversaries. Yes, go first to the palace of Hyperion.
Then, after you've dealt with Helios, you can search out the others.
It's almost night now, and you can wait in the darkness for them to
venture outside. Let them get well away from their homes, so they can't
call for help. If Pallas and Perses leave home together, you'll have to
follow them, being careful not to let them see you. Usually they go
their separate ways, don't they? I think they do. That's when you'll get
your chance. Wait until each one is alone, then challenge him."

As he listened, Epimetheus became more and more excited by his brother's
words. His hand moved to grip the hilt of his sword. "Yes, that's a good
plan. I will make them pay terribly for what they've done to me. Perhaps
I will cut off their legs!"

Menoitios shook his head suddenly. "No, you mustn't challenge them
openly. That wouldn't be fair to you, with your wounded shoulder and
leg. You'd merely give them another opportunity to defeat you, perhaps
still more viciously. Instead you must attack each one unexpectedly, by
stealth. Strike before he even knows he's threatened. Find some hiding
place he must walk past, then leap upon him. Anything else puts you at
too great a disadvantage.... This vengeance of yours may occupy more
than a single night. Have you thought of that?"

Before Epimetheus could answer, a tapping at the door drew their
attention.

"Come in," Menoitios called out wearily, without stirring. "By all
means, do come in!" He covered a yawn with the back of his hand.

Metis entered, still carrying her basket and with Alalkomeneus riding on
her shoulder. Her long peplos flared behind her as she crossed the room
briskly. Prometheus followed, struggling to match her pace.

"Oh, good," she cried as she saw Epimetheus. "I was afraid we might be
too late. We stopped at your apartment first and found it empty.''

She set the basket aside and approached to within a few paces of the
older god, her quick eyes surveying him from head to foot. The sword at
his side caught her attention, but she did not comment upon it. Finally
she said, "You must be in terrible pain. Won't you please sit down?"

Prometheus swung a chair out from its normal position against the wall
and placed it behind his brother. Epimetheus sank into it with an
expression of gratitude.

Metis leaned over him, first examining the scuffs and cuts that covered
one side of his forehead, then the great swollen knot above his knee.
Finally she began to gently press her hands against the clothed areas of
his body. When he cringed, she pulled aside the material covering his
left shoulder and exposed a large, jagged wound. It had reopened at her
touch, discharging a few drops of ichor, the thick, translucent fluid
that is the immortal blood of the gods.

"Tell me what happened," she said. "Prometheus has already told me some
of it, but I want to hear the story from you."

Menoitios had rolled over on his side and was watching them with
ill-concealed disdain. He was not fond of Metis, and particularly
resented the -influence she exerted over his older brothers.

Epimetheus sat for several moments staring at the floor. Finally,
feeling Metis's steady gaze upon him and growing more and more
uncomfortable in the continuing silence, he muttered, "You know I've
been arguing with Helios."

"No," Metis answered, smiling quietly back at him, "I certainly did not
know that. If I had, I might have prevented what has happened. Arguing
about what?"

When Epimetheus hesitated, Menoitios sat up on the edge of the divan.
"Tell her what he said about our father."

Epimetheus shook his head.

"Yes, tell me. What does Helios say about Lord Iapetos?"

Prometheus glared at Menoitios. "Why do you bring that up? It doesn't
really have anything to do with this. Besides, everyone says unkind
things occasionally."

"Unkind!" Menoitios exclaimed. "Unkind, indeed. Such insults are
insufferable and cause enough for a dozen battles."

Metis glanced at Menoitios. "You seem to have suffered those insults
easily enough-at least without incurring bodily harm. But what did he
say?" she demanded, turning back toward Prometheus.

"He questioned our father's competence as leader of the Titans. I
understand he did it in a rather crude and insulting fashion."

Metis frowned. "That's not good. Many of us seem to have frayed tempers
these days. Just last week some of the Muses got into a tussle with the
Hesperides. Go on, Epimetheus. Are there other reasons for your argument
with him?"

"This has been going on for many weeks now." Epimetheus shifted
uncomfortably on his chair. "It's real beginning, I suppose, was when
Helios realized that I was seeing Asterie. He decided he liked her more
than he'd originally thought and tried to get me to step aside. I
refused, and words led to blows."

"They've fought a number of times," Prometheus said, "but in the past
neither emerged as the clear victor. Someone always stopped the fight."

"Koios's daughter has grown into a lovely maiden," Metis said. "Are you
actually courting her?"

Epimetheus looked embarrassed. "Not exactly. But I have been see-"

"I think she was in love with him," Menoitios interrupted. "I saw them
together, and her face always had that foolish, lovesick sort of look on
it. His chances with her were really quite good, until Helios took an
interest in her. I mean, we all know that Epimetheus has many fine
characteristics, but good looks aren't among them."

"He's right," Epimetheus said sadly. "Helios is very handsome. I'm
afraid he's turned her heart away from me."

"And how did this latest fight occur?"

"They were waiting for me when I went to see Asterie. As I drew near the
palace of her father, they jumped at me from the shadows. They tripped
me and began to pelt me with stones. When I tried to get up, Helios
kicked me in the head. The wooden sole of his sandal did this." He
tenderly touched his forehead. "Perses leaped on me and struck me in the
shoulder with a big pointed stone. Then Pallas ran up with a great rock
and smashed it against my leg, not once but a number of times."

"They were trying to break his leg," Menoitios said. He grinned.
"Visiting Asterie would be a difficult matter for one who couldn't
walk."

"Are you certain the other gods with Helios were the sons of Crios? You
saw them clearly?"

Epimetheus nodded. "I saw them very clearly."

Metis stood thinking for a moment. Then she said, "So now you plan to
revenge yourself upon them."

"Of course he does. There's no other honorable course," Menoitios said.

Metis smiled. "Revenge is only sweet when it pains your enemy more than
you."

Menoitios had been growing increasingly annoyed at Metis. He stood up,
sneering at her. "What should he do, then? Swallow his pride and pretend
it didn't happen? Let Helios have Asterie? Why don't you just leave him
alone? You probably want him to take his complaint to Iapetos and the
Council of Titans, so they can do what they always do about such
things-nothing. That's what a coward would do!"

Alalkomeneus had been listening quietly and intently to all that was
said, but the arrogance with which the young god addressed his mistress
was more than the mortal could tolerate. "Lord Menoitios," he cried, his
small voice surprisingly loud in the enormous chamber of the deity. "You
forget yourself, my lord. Who are you to speak in such a tone to Lady
Metis?"

Menoitios laughed sarcastically. "Who am I, indeed! I'm a god-a Titan!
Who are you to address me at all? You forget yourself, creature of
blood. This discussion is among gods. You belong over there, with the
rest of the animals."

He swung around and pointed at the terrarium, then strode quickly to it.
Reaching in, he drew out a snarling saber-toothed tiger and carried it
back toward them, holding it by the scruff of the neck and dangling a
divine finger in front of the infuriated beast. The god grinned
maliciously as it swatted and snapped at the provocative digit.

He stopped just in front of Metis and glared at the man on her shoulder.
"You've spent so much time among the immortals that you've forgotten
your mortality. That can be easily remedied." He thrust the tiger at
him, so that it hissed directly into his face.

Metis reacted instantly, striking Menoitios's hand aside. The animal
arched away, spinning across the room. With a shriek Menoitios lunged
after it, but he was too late. The great cat had already struck the
stone floor.

"Look what you've done!" he cried as he carefully picked up the dying
creature and cradled it in his cupped hands. He turned on Metis in a
rage, his lips trembling and tears of anger glistening m his eyes. "You
shouldn't have done that. I'm not ever going to forget you did that!" He
glared at Alalkomeneus. "And you'd better keep your little friend away
from me, or he'll wind up where he belongs"-he gestured toward the
terrarium-"in the belly of one of my bears or lions or jackals. Now get
out of here. I don't want you in my rooms anymore."

Metis met his gaze calmly, to all outward appearances completely
unruffled. "Touch this man, Menoitios," she said quietly, "and you'll
learn just what kind of vengeance I do countenance."

She felt Prometheus's hand on her arm and looked toward him. "Let's go,"
he said softly.

They both turned toward Epimetheus, but he was no longer in his chair-or
anywhere else in the room. Prometheus ran toward the outer door. Metis
scooped up her basket and followed just behind him.

"The fool!" Prometheus cried. "He must have gone to find Helios and the
others."

Four

"But certainly you must know that", the Okeanid Dione continued
pleasantly, smiling yet again into the handsome face of the divine youth
who sat beside her. "Is it truly possible that you've never heard of the
Nereids? Why, all the world praises the beauty and grace of the
daughters of King Nereus and Queen Doris-who happens to be yet another
of my sisters."

"All the world knows them, perhaps," Zeus replied, grinning sheepishly,
"except me. I must be terribly ignorant."

She laughed. "At least you admit the possibility. I've known quite a few
gods and goddesses who'd far rather pretend perfection than admit to a
single tiny failing." She leaned her head to one side, studying his
clear eyes, finely shaped nose, and perfectly formed mouth. "But I'm not
sure I believe you. I think you know a good bit more than you let on."

The ocean goddess was enjoying herself. She appreciated the
companionship of the charming young god and was pleased that she had
chosen to remain here with him on Mount Pelion, at the home of her
sister. The boy offered a welcome opportunity to escape, however
briefly, the gloomy atmosphere that so often surrounded Philyra and her
son. Of course Dione could have accepted Metis's invitation to visit
Mount Othrys, but that would have meant abandoning her effort to bring a
little cheer into Philyra's otherwise dreary existence. Zeus provided a
temporary respite, one that she could enjoy in good conscience since it
did not require her to completely abandon her sister and nephew. And,
too, it would not hurt at all for Cheiron to be exposed to the company
of someone his own age, if she could arrange to get the youths to talk
to each other.

She and Zeus had been sitting quite close together, but now the boy slid
still nearer, so that their bodies were actually touching, and his arm
slipped around her waist from the rear. Dione's expression indicated her
surprise.

"Oh, you are a frisky one, aren't you?" she cried. Reaching around
behind her back, she took hold firmly of his arm and removed it from her
body. Then she moved farther away from him on the boulder. This
unexpected display of amorous intent, which she had not foreseen at all,
had startled her; but she was flattered as well. Had some other, older
god acted in a similarly familiar manner, she would have rebuked him
instantly and firmly. But this boy was another matter. His youth and
inexperience-not to mention his boyish good looks and charm-made it easy
to overlook what in others would have constituted an outright affront.

"You may not know much about Mount Othrys or the Kingdom of Nereus," she
said, laughing, "but I'll wager no one's ever called you slow. Tell me,
son of Amaltheia, do the nymphs back where you live allow such uninvited
liberties?''

"There aren't many nymphs there, and none that I know well enough to
talk to like this."

"Ha! And here I thought you were different. I see you aren't at all. You
lie and evade just as facilely as all the other gods. A handsome youth
like you-I'll bet they come to your cave in droves, every last one
begging you to kiss her!"

He looked away, neither confirming nor denying, and Dione decided she
enjoyed teasing him.

"Come now, you can tell me the truth. How many have you kissed?"

She was grinning expectantly, waiting for his answer so that she could
throw back some similar remark. But when he looked up his great deep
eyes caught hers and held them, and when he spoke a chill ran through
her-whether of gladness or alarm, she could not tell.

"Certainly none as beautiful as you."

His wonderful eyes and winning remark seemed to hold her mesmerized for
a few moments, and when she shook herself free of them she realized to
her consternation that he had edged back toward her, and that now he had
both his arms about her and his lips were descending toward hers.

"Oh," she cried, pushing against his chest, "please stop! What are you
doing?"

But he did not desist, and she turned her head aside at the last moment
so that his kiss landed on her cheek instead. She laughed despite
herself.

All this time Zeus had managed to keep himself carefully under control;
but the touch of her divine flesh was too much for him. The more she
struggled to extricate herself from his embrace, the more tightly he
held her. The more she twisted away to keep her lips from his, the more
determined he became to taste them. Now he crushed her to him, felt the
sweet softness of her breasts and the fiery heat of her body against his
chest.

Dione was laughing no more. "You know this isn't right," she said
firmly, still trying to push him away. "Really now, you must stop this
instant! My sister will come back out any moment, and Cheiron will
return soon."

His face still wore that same charming-almost reassuring-smile. In her
struggle to free herself, she slid from the boulder. Instead of trying
to pull her back up, he followed her down, still holding her tightly in
his arms; and now she found herself lying beneath him at full length
upon the rocky ground.

"Stop this instant, I tell you, or I'll call Philyra. Perhaps they do
things this way where you come from, but they most certainly don't among
the great gods. You must let me go- immediately!"

He was still trying to kiss her. Each time his mouth drew near she
turned away. His face weaved back and forth above hers, searching for an
opportunity to complete the kiss she kept denying him.

At last she said, "If I kiss you, will you release me?"

Zeus briefly considered her offer, then said, "Yes."

"You promise?"

He nodded.

Dione turned back to face him, her mouth undefended. Her eyes were open,
but she closed them as their lips met. His kiss was pleasant, she
thought, very pleasant indeed-gentle, but also hungry, insistent. When
he drew away, she looked up again.

"That was nice," she said softly, smiling at him. "Not proper at all,
any of this, but still quite nice. I wonder where you learned-or is it a
natural talent?" She stretched up and gave him another kiss, a
gratuitous peck. "Now, be a proper young god and let me up."

She might as well have asked a thunderstorm to unleash but one drop of
rain or the storm-lashed sea to cast but a single tentative wave against
the beach. Before she could foresee the danger, his mouth plunged down
upon hers again and stayed there, devouring her.

She gasped and fought to turn away, but only at first. Something strange
and wonderful and terrible was happening inside her, and her resistance
diminished. Instead of fighting back with all her strength, she found
herself becoming pliant before his ever growing insistence. Somewhere,
dimly, she became aware that his hands were no longer gripping her so
tightly, that instead they were stroking and squeezing and surveying her
body.

The whole thing was amazing. It was outrageous. Nothing even remotely
similar had ever happened to her. It was madness! Here she was, with a
god barely past his childhood, lying on the ground outside the home of
her sister-with her sister no more than twenty paces away. Young Cheiron
was nearby too, perhaps even within sight of them. They could be
discovered at any moment, and yet when she remembered that she should
tear herself away from him, that she should cry out for help-something
within her suggested other, less proper responses. Instead of
struggling, she acquiesced to his kisses and began to consider outright
surrender.

But then Zeus was gone. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Cheiron
standing over them, his powerful equine legs planted firmly apart and an
angry scowl on his face. He had taken hold of Zeus by one arm and yanked
him back from Dione, then thrown him against the rocky side of the
mountain. Now, as she watched, Zeus came to his feet. He pulled up
around him his long cloak, which had slipped from his shoulders while
scuffling with the Okeanid, and prepared to defend himself. The two
youths stood glaring at one another belligerently.

Dione rose quickly too. Her instinct was to protect Zeus and to try to
explain away the outrageous scene Cheiron had witnessed; but as she
stood there watching them glower and size up one another, she was
overwhelmed by a full realization of what had just happened-or almost
happened-and her embarrassment became acute.

Cheiron had returned with an armful of firewood-long, stout pieces, some
of them actually full-grown trees from which the god had stripped
branches and leaves. He had tossed them aside as he neared the couple on
the ground, but now he reached down and hefted a heavy bough, holding it
back above his head, ready to strike.

"You are a guest here," Cheiron told Zeus, and Dione was surprised at
the forcefulness of his tone; usually the boy was extremely soft-spoken
and seemed shy if not timid. He looked anything but timid now; his face
was black with restrained fury. "How dare you repay our hospitality in
this way?"

Dione noticed that Philyra had just returned and was standing near the
mouth of the cave,

"What's happened, Cheiron?" she demanded. "What has this boy done?"

"He attacked Dione while we were gone. I found him holding her down on
the ground."

Philyra looked quickly at Dione, whose dusty and rumpled clothing
verified Cheiron's accusation. A moment before Philyra had looked
bone-weary, almost lifeless; now she was galvanized into action. "You
vile creature!" she cried. "You beast!" Her eyes darted about, and she
swooped up a water pail from near the entrance of the cave and flung it
at Zeus.

The boy dodged to one side, so that the pail struck the ground a short
distance behind him and then rolled off the ledge and bounced down a
steep incline. But by now Philyra had found other missiles among the
wood Cheiron had brought, and set herself to hurling them one after the
other toward him.

"Leave us. Go back wherever you came from. We want no rutting animals
here. We won't stand for it. Do you understand? We won't stand for it!"
To punctuate each thought she threw another missile.

Zeus could not dodge them all, and to escape he had to flee between
Cheiron and Philyra. As he darted forward, Cheiron swung at him-a heavy
blow that struck his shoulder and almost sent him to his knees; but he
managed to keep running and a few moments later was heading down the
path that led from the cave.

Dione watched him go. Though she realized that none of what had happened
was really her fault, she found herself feeling sad and somehow guilty.
For that matter, she reasoned, it probably wasn't the boy's fault
either, really. He had grown up far from divine society and was ignorant
of the conventions of proper conduct. Unless he were careful, he might
easily find himself in even worse trouble elsewhere. He was such a
handsome, charming boy, she thought wistfully; she couldn't help liking
him, and was sorry to see him leave... despite everything.

Philyra and Cheiron stood together near the edge of the high ledge
before their home. When Zeus finally disappeared within the forest
below, Philyra laid a hand on her son's arm and patted him gently. "You
did well, Cheiron," she said, and when he leaned down to her, she hugged
him briefly.

Dione watched them. As far as she could remember, it was the first time
she had ever heard Philyra praise her son, or seen her show him
affection of any sort.

Once out of range of Philyra's wrath, Zeus slowed his pace. This part of
the mountain was thickly clad in tall pine trees.

He did not recognize the trail he was following and could not see very
far in any direction; therefore he could only hope he was traveling back
toward the area where he had last seen Pan. As he walked, he became more
and more dejected. With the exception of a few brief rests, he had been
walking all day. He was hungry, too, not having eaten since breakfast,
and wished Dione had offered to feed him before things got out of hand.
Pan was carrying their supply of ambrosia, and for this reason alone he
was anxious to rejoin his brother. It might take hours to locate Pan;
for that matter, he might not be able to find him at all. Still, there
was nothing else he could do but keep looking. Tired, hungry, and
frustrated, he went on sullenly, feeling sorry for himself.

While he walked he began to run over in his mind the events of the day.
Eventually he remembered the manner in which Metis and Prometheus had
departed from Mount Pelion and his earlier resolve to learn to fly. Just
having something else to think about improved his spirits, and he began
looking for a large clearing where he might attempt a similar feat. At
last he found such a place, a number of steep, rolling hills covered
with thick grass, and he paused there, wondering how to begin. They had
made it look quite easy. But how did one cause his body to metamorphose
in such an interesting and useful way?

He stripped off his cloak, which served as his only article of clothing,
folded the long rectangular piece of cloth once- along its length-then
wrapped and knotted it about his loins, so that his shoulders would not
be encumbered. Closing his eyes, he focused his mind in the general
vicinity of his shoulder blades and envisioned wings sprouting there. At
first he was aware only of a slight ticklish sensation and thought he
had failed, but an instant later he started to topple backwards and had
to throw back a foot to recover his balance. Something struck against
his thigh and he twisted around to see what it was.

The wings were huge, with enormous golden plumes that glistened like
bronze even in the long rays of the evening sun. He moved them
tentatively, first stretching them out to their widest breadth then
folding them forward, around him, so that he could more easily examine
the tips. Controlling them proved to be easy, requiring no more mental
effort than moving his arms, but the pattern of movements was
unfamiliar. With a joyous cry, he turned and started to run down the
steep hill, stretching the wings and making them begin to beat.

But if growing wings and moving them was easy, actually flying was not,
as he discovered within moments. No sooner did his feet leave the ground
than his knees and elbows found it again-painfully. He had raised one
wing when he should have lowered it; still, he was having a great deal
of fun and would not be put off by a few scrapes and scratches. Jumping
back up, he tried again . . . and again . . . and again. When he finally
careened into the trees at the bottom of the hills, he ran back up so
that he could start over. It was exciting and exhilarating, and it made
him forget his hunger.

Within half an hour he was able to rise above the treetops and circle
there, scanning the lower hills and more distant mountains for Pan.
Then, growing more daring, he flew off in the direction he thought most
promising, his great eagle wings gliding on the wind. He found that by
traveling higher he could see to greater distances, and should he
fumble, there was more time to right his mistake. Twice he
miscalculated, plunging downward toward the spikelike treetops; but each
time he managed to undo his error and swoop back upward just before
striking. Zeus learned quickly, and seldom made the same mistake twice.

Nowhere could he detect any sign of Pan, and so he turned toward Mount
Othrys, which he could see clearly in the distance. He very much wanted
to visit the home of the Titans. If Dione and Metis were any indication,
the goddesses he would find there would make the journey amply
worthwhile.

Five

"Do you really think he'll come?" Pallas asked. He stood beside a wide
window within the palace of the Titan Hyperion, looking out into the
growing darkness.

"Oh, yes," a rich, bemused voice said from behind him. "If not tonight,
then tomorrow, or the night after."

"He may not be able to come tonight," a third voice commented, adding an
unpleasant laugh.

Pallas, the son of the Titan Crios and the sea goddess Eurybie, turned
and looked across the room toward Perses, his elder brother. "Do you
really think we hurt him that badly?"

"Oh, we did him damage, all right. I have no doubt of that. Don't you
agree, Helios?"

Helios, whom they had come to visit, was still dressing. Surrounded by a
half dozen flaming braziers that he had arranged for this purpose, he
stood before a large mirror of polished bronze, slowly turning to view
himself from one angle and then from another. Perses hovered nearby,
openly admiring the sartorial splendor of the son of Hyperion.

"True," Helios agreed at last, after the younger gods had decided that
their magnificent host must be too preoccupied to hear them, or that
their remarks were not worthy of his consideration. "True indeed. We may
have disabled him more severely than we intended. But in time his wounds
will heal, and then he'll come searching for us. We need only wait." As
he spoke he leaned his head to the left, to observe the effect of the
movement upon his straight, shoulder-length blond hair, which glistened
like silver in the firelight.

"I hope he brings his brothers with him," Pallas said enthusiastically.
"I know you said he'll come alone, but I hope not."

Helios bestowed an indulgent look upon the youth. "I, too, would like
nothing better than to speed things along, but however much we may wish
to permanently settle our affairs with Iapetos's sons, we must be
patient. Epimetheus may have the intelligence of an ox, but Prometheus
certainly isn't stupid. If anything, he'll try to prevent his brother
from facing us. He knows what a fuss it all will lead to in front of the
Council, with Hyperion and Crios vigorously defending us and nobody
willing to do anything."

He turned toward Perses, spreading his arms and displaying his apparel.
"What do you think? Am I not the height of elegance?"

His long chiton fell in graceful, carefully arranged folds, sporting an
elaborate border of golden fringe. Around his shoulders he wore a
similarly fringed cloak, which was fastened about his neck with a large
golden clasp that bore the likeness of a falcon.

"It's wonderful," Perses said. "The little golden tufts at the edges are
spectacular. Are they your idea?''

Helios nodded, making no attempt to conceal the intense pleasure he
derived from such admiration. He had spent many long hours mastering the
most interesting and rakish ways to attire himself and knew that Perses
was only expressing the plain truth.

"Who made it for you? Can we have similar ones made for us?" Pallas
asked.

"Of course, my friends. I'll see to it. We three will be the envy of all
the younger gods of Mount Othrys."

"We already are," Pallas observed.

"Then we'll make them still more envious with our tasseled finery."

Perses dropped into a large, cushioned chair. They were silent for
nearly a minute; then he said, "The more I think about it, the more
convinced I am that you're right, Helios. What a feeble age we live in!
How different it must have been when Kronos ruled the world. No petty
bickering, no weak and ineffectual Council of Titans." He sneered the
final words, eliciting an appreciative laugh from his brother across the
room. "Instead we had an all-powerful king-one mind and guiding hand, a
single will, ready and able to crush all discord and dissent. I don't
know how we've endured this long with such fumbling, inept leadership."

Helios had turned back to his mirror and was putting the final touches
on his appearance. "But we haven't actually endured it, Perses. It's
taken its toll. The evidence is all around us. Look at the Titans today.
They've lost all initiative. They live their lives from day to day, and
I suppose they consider themselves happy, but they're merely drifting.
They have no direction, no ambition. Of course that's not true of all of
them-of my father, for instance-but Hyperion is the rare exception. It's
sad, when you consider all the grand achievements of the past and how
drab everything is today."

"But will anything change if we succeed in discrediting Iapetos? I'm not
sure that any other leader of the Council could do much better," Perses
said thoughtfully. "It's so difficult for them to change things. If
anyone makes a suggestion, the Council simply talks it to death.
Certainly Iapetos is inept, but even your father would be hard pressed
to move that pack of sluggards."

Helios at last swung away from the mirror. "It's safe enough to think
such things, Perses, but it would be wise to speak them softly, even
among the most trusted of friends. If nothing more, it could prove
inconvenient to be overheard."

"What do you mean?" Pallas asked. He still stood beside the window,
glancing out every few seconds while listening to them. "Are you two
talking about what I think you're talking about?"

"Probably," Helios said. "Does the notion distress you?"

"It's treason," the youth said softly. "It's the one crime above all
others that the Titans have sworn not to tolerate."

Helios laughed. "What do you think they would do if they somehow learned
of our conversation? Or, for that matter, if we even made such an
attempt and failed?"

"They'd talk about it!" Perses cried, and the three of them collapsed in
laughter.

"But can it be done?" Pallas went on. "To bring back the monarchy-it's
unthinkably daring. ..."

Helios drew a heavy armchair out from the wall and sat down too.
"Daring, yes. But not unthinkable. I've been thinking about it for a
very long time now. What we've been up to recently, working in whatever
way we can to embarrass and discredit Iapetos-through his sons now and
more directly later-is only a first step toward a solution. Iapetos must
be replaced as leader of the Council of Titans, but the Council itself
must also be replaced. We must have a king again. All these endless
debates and timid vote-castings sap us of the very spirit that once made
us great, and we'll never be free of them until we're free of the
Council."

"But who'll be our new king?" Perses asked hesitantly, already knowing
the answer.

Helios looked carefully at him. "Who is most suited of all the Titans?"

"Hyperion? We've been discussing him as the new leader of the Council."

"What do you think, Pallas?" Helios asked.

"I can think of no better choice."

Helios nodded. "It's difficult for me to view him objectively, of
course, since he's my father, but everything I know about the Titans
leads me to believe that no one could do a better job."

"No other god could do even half as well," Perses observed, "...except,
of course, for Kronos himself." The last few words slipped out without
adequate forethought, and as soon as he said them, Perses wished he had
not. He greatly admired Helios-almost worshipped him in his boyish way-
and did not want to offend him.

The thought seemed to stun Helios, and he took a long time before
answering. "No," he said slowly, "the Titans would never accept Kronos.
They'd sooner wallow in mediocrity than submit again to his rule. If
we're to have a king again, it must be a new king, and Hyperion is our
only choice."

Both Pallas and Perses nodded their agreement.

Pallas looked back out the window. It was night now. After a moment he
said, "I think I see someone down there." He leaned farther out, and
both Perses and Helios left their chairs and crossed the room to join
him.

"Where?" Helios demanded. "Point to him."

Pallas pointed across a narrow path toward a grove of towering cypress
tress that grew on the slopes above the Palace of Hyperion. "I saw
something move in there, near the rocks. I don't know how he got so near
without my seeing him sooner.''

"Step back a little, you two. We don't want to be seen ourselves."

Pallas and Perses complied. They squatted down beside the window with
their eyes just above the sill. Helios stood beside them, peering out
from one side of the opening.

"There-do you see?" Pallas demanded, pointing again.

"Yes," Helios said. "He's just within the grove, standing between two
trees."

"Do you think it's Epimetheus?" Perses asked.

"Who else would be skulking about in the dark like that, in front of
this palace? Who else would have reason?''

The sons of Crios nodded slowly. "So you were right," Perses continued.
"The fool has come by himself." He laughed. "Well, why are we waiting?
Let's go down and meet him."

Helios continued to stare down at the barely discernable figure. He had
been certain Epimetheus would not appear tonight, but managed to conceal
his surprise from his companions. "What a dolt he is! Anyone with the
smallest modicum of sense would have waited. He can't have recovered
from his wounds yet. Look, he's moving across the grove, hoping to find
a better place to stand, I guess. Do you see how he moves? He's limping.
There, he stumbled!"

He left the window and began to pace the room. "This isn't good. If we
attack him, we could undo ourselves. He's already injured and isn't
properly able to defend himself. The oaf! The simpleton!" He stamped his
foot in anger and frustration.

"I don't understand," Pallas said. "If he wants to take such a risk, why
shouldn't we take advantage of his misjudgment?"

"It's very simple. However pleasant it might be to poke him full of
holes, we must keep our goal in mind. If we can goad Iapetos's sons into
acting impetuously, we discredit Iapetos. If we can sow dissension
between Iapetos and the other Titans, that too advances our goal. What
happened last night was anything but clear-cut. He'll say we attacked
him, but we'll claim he attacked us first. Who's to know what the truth
is? But if we fight Epimetheus tonight, we'll be branded villains. He
can barely walk! There'll be no doubt that we took advantage of him."

"Then what shall we do?" Perses asked.

"Let me think. There must be some way to twist this to our advantage."

"It may already be too late," Pallas announced. He alone was still
staring out into the night, and now the others came back beside him.

"What is it? What do you see?" Helios demanded.

"Look down the path, toward the Palace of Mnemosyne. Do you see who's
coming this way?"

Helios and Perses peered in that direction.

"It looks like Prometheus," Helios said with annoyance. "I can't tell
who's with him, though."

"It's a goddess," Perses said. "Metis, probably. They're often together.
They must be looking for Epimetheus. And I think he sees them now.''

There was movement in the grove, and for a moment they clearly glimpsed
a lurching figure that made its way awkwardly away from the path and
deeper among the trees.

As Helios and his companions watched from above, Metis and Prometheus
approached rapidly. They paused outside the palace, peering into the
shadows near the walls of the building. Then they crossed the path and
searched briefly near the outside of the grove. Finally, unable to find
the god they sought, they continued on, following the path toward the
Palace of Crios.

Just as they were leaving, Helios became aware of another figure; it was
farther away, hidden from Metis and Prometheus by intervening trees but
clearly visible to the watchers high within the Palace of Hyperion.

"Who is that?" Pallas asked. "I don't recognize him."

Helios did not recognize the newcomer either. He watched as the figure
of a youth, probably no older than Perses, stood briefly in the bright
torchlight that flooded from a nearby building, then proceeded slowly
toward them upon the same path that Prometheus and Metis were following.
More than once the boy paused, evidently to study the huge structures he
was passing.

Helios glanced toward the grove where Epimetheus was hiding, then back
toward the approaching youth, who was still a fair distance away. "Do
you think you could reach this stranger before Metis and Prometheus get
within sight of him?" he asked Pallas.

"I could circle around to the rear, behind the bluff. I'd have to leave
immediately, though, and fly most of the way."

"Then do it. Talk to this new god, make friends with him, and bring him
back here by a route that will keep Epimetheus from seeing him."

Pallas nodded his understanding, crossed the room, and left without
another word.

"What are you planning?" Perses asked excitedly.

"Have you no idea?"

Perses shook his head.

Helios grinned. "Neither do I, really-not yet. But certainly there must
be some way to utilize this newcomer to Mount Othrys. If, for instance,
Epimetheus were to attack him suddenly, without provocation-certainly
that would be an embarrassment to Iapetos. Don't you think so?"

Six

As Zeus approached Mount Othrys, the mountain loomed ahead of him, not a
single peak but a broad range that stretched more than sixty miles from
east to west. He flew higher now, over thick forests that grew among the
hills and clung to the high mountain slopes, across wide valleys and
narrow canyons teeming with animal life. He had traveled quite far and
was deep within the range when at last he came upon a peak that rose
more than a mile into the sky, and as the last rays of sunlight faded,
he glided down toward the home of the Titans.

What he found took his breath away. All his life he had heard stories of
the Titans and Mount Othrys, but those stories utterly failed to suggest
the magnitude of the divine community. Alighting near the edge of the
settlement, he moved forward slowly, marveling at the vista that
stretched before him-up, down, and around the summit of the mountain.
Towering edifices of many designs rose from amid lush orchards and
gardens. There were smaller, no less imposing structures as well, and
meandering brooks and pools of clear spring water that glistened in the
distance.

Coming upon a winding walkway paved with huge flat stones of many
colors, he followed it slowly past building after building, some with
wide-open entrances that looked in upon vast, brightly lit chambers
crowded with talking, laughing deities. The temptation to seek
admittance was great, but he went on instead, following the stone path
around the mountaintop.

He had been walking for some time when a young god appeared just ahead
of him with his right hand raised in greeting.

"Hail! My friends and I saw you over here and thought you might be a
stranger, in need of guidance." Pallas smiled at him pleasantly. "Am I
right? Are you a traveler, newly come to Mount Othrys?"

Zeus smiled back. "Yes. I've come to see the home of the Titans for
myself. That's all right, isn't it? I probably should have arrived
earlier, before dark, but-"

"Certainly it's all right. Your late arrival has inconvenienced no one
but yourself. All the gods of the broad earth are welcome guests on
Mount Othrys-save only the few who've been barred for one reason or
another,'' Pallas added with a laugh. "I trust you're not one of those."

Zeus shook his head quickly.

"I thought not. You look as though you've traveled quite some distance.
You must be tired. Perhaps hungry and thirsty as well. If you'd like to
come with me, I'll take you to the home of a friend. He's always
interested in meeting newcomers, and I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself and
learn a great deal. Will you come with me?"

"Yes, thank you," Zeus said, quite pleased and a little surprised; since
leaving his island home he had encountered a remarkable degree of
kindness and courtesy among the great gods. "I am hungry and thirsty,
and I'd be delighted to talk with your friend. Please lead the way."

"It would be a good bit faster-easier, too-if we flew. Do you mind?"

Actually Zeus felt he had done quite enough flying for one day, but
would have been embarrassed to admit that. He glanced over his shoulder
and was surprised to discover that the wings that had brought him to
Mount Othrys were no longer present; evidently his body had returned to
its natural shape as soon as he stopped thinking about them-which was
something he would need to remember in the future. Again he concentrated
upon his back, then stretched out his wings and followed his new
companion. They flew down along the side of the nearby building, then
swung out over a wide grove and across a narrow gorge. The route seemed
curiously circuitous, but since he was unfamiliar with the area, Zeus
did not question it. He traveled slowly, still uncertain of his newly
acquired skill, and the other god adjusted his speed accordingly.

Pallas led him to the Palace of Hyperion, and the two alighted upon a
high balcony. Zeus stumbled as he landed, but was pleased to realize
that the other god seemed not to have noticed. He paused to arrange his
cloak in what he considered a more suitable fashion, then followed the
youth into the palace.

Pallas walked ahead of him, glancing back occasionally. Zeus proceeded
more slowly, looking at everything they passed. The wide corridor was
lit by many torches, each sitting in a golden sconce shaped like the
hand and arm of a god. The high walls were brightly colored, and many
bore startling likenesses of gods and animals. Zeus even marveled at the
smoothness of the marble flagstones beneath his bare feet.

"Here we are," Pallas announced at last, swinging open a tall door to
reveal the enormous chamber beyond. He stood to one side and allowed the
newcomer to precede him. As Zeus entered, a tall, handsome god with long
blond hair strode toward him.

"Come in! We've been hoping you'd pay us a visit. I am Helios, the son
of Hyperion, and you are welcome in the home of my father."

Zeus nodded his appreciation and Helios introduced Perses, who was
standing near the broad window at the other side of the chamber. While
his host went to bring a chair and a small, three-legged table from near
the wall, Zeus stood dazzled, gazing about the lavishly furnished
chamber, which was prodigally decked in gold and ivory.

Pallas came up beside him and Zeus whispered, "Is this god a Titan?"

Pallas laughed. "Yes, Helios is indeed a Titan-a Titan of the second
generation. So are my brother and I." His voice did not fail to
communicate a sense of pride.

From across the room Helios laughed too. "But Pallas neglects to tell
you one significant fact-he's actually only half a Titan, since his
mother is a sea goddess. An understandable oversight, but one I'm
determined not to let him forget. I, on the other hand, am the son of a
Titan father and a Titan mother."

Pallas grimaced, but did not seem to take serious offense.

"Here," Helios continued, positioning the chair and table almost in the
center of the room. "Sit. Make yourself comfortable, please. Pallas will
bring refreshments, and then we can talk in comfort. I'm always
interested in learning about the gods who live below. Tell me, my new
friend-who are you? What is your name? Where do you come from?"

Zeus sat and answered the Titan willingly. Helios pulled up another
chair and table for himself, and Pallas returned a few moments later
with large goblets of glistening red nectar and a bowl nearly
overflowing with golden stalks of ambrosia. Zeus ate hungrily.

"How interesting everything must be, back in the land from which you
come. You called it Crete, didn't you? I'm not sure I've ever heard of
that island," Helios continued after Zeus had answered most of his
questions. "Here-you need more nectar. Pallas, please attend to it. You
see, son of Amaltheia, all gods are welcome among us."

Zeus was enjoying himself greatly. He had not realized the great hunger
that had built up inside him for new sights and experiences such as
those he had found today-for companionship, too. He had never known such
good fellowship before today. Pan had been his constant companion since
infancy, but Pan could be quite a disagreeable fellow at times and they
often argued over trivial things. To be among such amiable deities as
these was truly delightful, and he congratulated himself on his decision
to seek out Mount Othrys.

Helios was enjoying the evening too. As they talked, he studied the
youthful newcomer and decided that this backward lout would suit his
purposes well. With almost every other word he uttered, Zeus betrayed
his total ignorance not only of Othrys and the Titans, but of divine
society in general. He seemed to know virtually nothing, and Helios was
very glad indeed that he had sent Pallas to fetch him. He could hardly
have found a more promising dupe with which to harass and befuddle
Epimetheus-and thereby Iapetos.

Just then Perses left his post at the window and came up behind the
Titan. He leaned down and whispered in his ear. "Epimetheus has left the
grove. He must have grown tired of waiting."

"Keep watching him," Helios whispered back fiercely. "See where he
goes."

Zeus had been talking to Pallas and seemed not to notice. Annoyed now
that his little endeavor might be thwarted, Helios sat in silence while
the two young gods continued their conversation. After a few minutes
though, he left his chair and went to join Perses. They stood close
together, whispering back and forth.

"Can you still see him?" he asked.

"Yes, though he's trying to avoid being seen. He's staying in the
shadows, off the path. Look across from the Palace of Koios."

"Yes, I see him. Good. He hasn't given up. He must have decided I'd
already left for the evening, and so he's gone instead to wait in front
of Asterie's home-thinking I'd probably be there. Very good-perhaps even
better!"

He returned to Zeus, who was now watching him. "Please forgive me, my
new friend," the Titan said as he resumed his seat. "I'm afraid I'm
involved tonight in a little ... unpleasantness. I hate even to mention
it. There really isn't any reason to trouble a guest about it...."

Zeus gestured in a way that indicated he would not mind listening.

"The reason Perses hasn't joined us, but instead remains over at the
window, is that he's keeping watch for me. There is a Titan-his name is
Epimetheus-who has sworn to do me harm, and earlier this evening we
thought we saw him. skulking about outside. But really, I don't want to
impose my trouble on you. This is your first visit to Mount Othrys. It
should be a time for pleasantry, not-"

"No, no, please," Zeus said-just as Helios hoped he would. "I'm very
interested in hearing about it. I know so little of the great gods that
all their doings hold my attention. Please tell me."

Helios settled back into his chair and took a sip from his own goblet
before continuing. "There's really nothing very complicated or
particularly interesting about it. I'm sure similar things must happen
where you live. Epimetheus is in love with Asterie, the daughter of Lord
Koios, but Asterie is in love with me. Since he can't fathom any goddess
not loving him, Epimetheus calculates that the whole thing must be my
fault. He's convinced himself that if it weren't for me, beautiful
Asterie would be his, and so he hates me beyond reason. It's most
annoying, and very inconvenient at times."

"This goddess," Zeus asked, "is she a Titaness? What does she look
like?"

Helios smiled indulgently. "Yes, she is a second-generation Titan, as I
am. Anyway, we thought we noticed Epimetheus outside earlier this
evening, hoping to catch me with a surprise attack, but we weren't
certain. Just now Perses came over to tell me that he's now sure, and
that Epimetheus has departed-to hide instead near the entrance to the
Palace of Koios, Asterie's father. And to make matters worse, my father
has forbidden me to fight him."

"How odd," Zeus observed, taking another handful of ambrosia from the
large golden bowl. "Why did he do that?"

"To please his brother Iapetos, who is Epimetheus's father. My father
knows I could best the lout easily. I've done it more than once, but it
would cause a terrible row among the Titans just now. Of course he
really doesn't understand the situation, or what an affront Epimetheus's
protestations of love are to Asterie. She's tried to discourage him
kindly, but still he persists. It really makes me very angry. And, of
course, I need to find some way to warn Asterie, so that she won't
venture out tonight. I hate to think about the possibilities, after what
happened the last time Epimetheus saw her. ..."

"What happened?" Zeus asked with great interest.

Helios ignored his question. "I can't send Pallas or Perses to her.
Epimetheus knows they're my friends, and he's scuffled with them in the
past over me. Besides, he'd probably guess they bore a message from me,
and that might well enrage him. He can be very violent when enraged. I
really don't know what to do, and so I'm not the attentive host I should
be tonight. My mind is far too concerned with Aster-ie's safety."

"Asterie must be very beautiful," Zeus said.

"Oh, yes-gorgeous. She's the most beautiful of all the Titanesses of the
second generation, at least as far as I'm concerned. As you can see, I'm
very much in love with her."

Zeus was looking toward the window, watching Perses. Nearly a minute
passed in silence while Helios waited expectantly.

When the young god made no move to continue the conversation, Helios
said, "An idea has just occurred to me. Would it be possible that you
could deliver such a message forme?"

Zeus looked back at him. "Why, of course. Someone would have to show me
how to find Asterie's home, though, since I have no idea where it is."

"Nothing could be easier. You can see it from the window. Come, I'll
show you," Taking Zeus by the arm, he led him across the room. "Of
course, I'll have to loan you some of my clothing before you go. You
really can't go dressed like that-pardon my candor for saying so. You
won't mind wearing some of my things, will you? I'm sure I can fit you
out in style."

The Cretan god shook his head quickly. "No, I won't mind at all. I'll do
whatever you think necessary. Do you know, I don't believe I've ever
seen anyone who was gorgeous before."

Seven

"What do you plan, Helios" Perses whispered a few minutes later, after
they had pointed out the Palace of Koios to the youth. Helios had pulled
out to the middle of the room a large chest filled with clothing and
Pallas was helping the newcomer sort through it.

"Can't you guess?" the older god asked. "What could be more damaging to
Iapetos than to have one of his sons assault an innocent visitor to
Othrys, with no provocation at all?"

"But why should he do that? Do you think he'll mistake Zeus for you just
because he's in your clothes? Is that the idea? Won't he notice the
difference in size? You're taller than this boy and good bit heavier."

Helios shrugged. "It's night. Besides, Epimetheus has never been noted
for his keen observation, and he's already had time to grow impatient.
Do you think he's in any mood to carefully scrutinize someone who's
wearing my clothes and headed toward Asterie's home?"

"But he may notice. You can't be certain he won't-and then what?"

"Certainty in anything is a rare luxury," the Titan replied
sententiously. "But don't fret. I think we can tip the balance more in
our favor. And if I should be wrong, what have I lost?"

"Well, that's true," Perses agreed uncertainly. "If your plan fails,
we're none the worse, I suppose, and if you succeed, Iapetos will have
much to explain and live down."

Helios nodded. "But not enough. All this is amusing play, but only a
very small step on a long path. Still, a most amusing and enjoyable
step."

He strolled back toward the middle of the room, where Zeus and Pallas
stood together. "How are we progressing?"

"This is most nice," Zeus said, holding up a long, thick cloak. "May I
wear it?"

Helios shook his head. "No, I think not-it might do for a jaunt about
the countryside, but not for a mission such as yours tonight. You may
well meet Asterie's parents, Lord Koios and Lady Phoibe. Don't you want
to appear at your most presentable? Let me select for you."

"Would you?" Zeus asked, quite pleased. "I'd like that. I know I have
very much to learn and would greatly appreciate your instruction."

Helios sorted quickly through the garments, hesitated over a brightly
colored chiton, then tossed it aside. Instead he went to other chests
that still sat together against the wall and rummaged among them. At
last he returned with a more suitable selection.

"Here. Slip this on," he told the boy.

A dull brown cloak was loosely wrapped about the boy's body, one end
tossed over his shoulder. The Titan took hold of the garment with two
fingers, as if he preferred not to soil his hands any more than
necessary. He pulled it free, then held it at arm's length and let it
drop to the floor. Then he handed him the chiton he had selected and
watched in amusement as Zeus slipped into it and attempted to adjust the
unfamiliar garment.

Next Helios selected an appropriate mantle-one of his own favorites,
which he had worn just the night before. He hated to sacrifice it-it
might well be destroyed this evening-but was well satisfied when he saw
the youth in it. He led Zeus over to the tall bronze mirror and showed
him his own reflection.

"Well, what do you think? Do you not look as if you've lived all your
life among the Titans?"

"It's wonderful," Zeus said, staring at his image in fascination. He
reached down and adjusted the cloak so that it exposed more of the
chiton, then paused to examine the delicate gold- and silver-threaded
border. "And you have many such garments! It's amazing. How generous you
are to allow me to-"

"Really, it's nothing. But we haven't finished yet. Your wardrobe is
still incomplete. Don't move." Helios handed the youth a pair of sandals
that were certain to fit poorly, then went to yet another chest, this
time returning with a light-colored bonnet. He was not fond of such
contrivances himself, preferring to display his long silver hair in all
its glory; but he owned a number of hats nevertheless and wore them
reluctantly when the occasion demanded.

He set in on Zeus's head, pulled it down tight and then walked around
the youth, tucking his dark locks up beneath the fabric. When he had
finished, he stepped back two paces to admire the result. He had to stop
himself from laughing aloud. The boy looked preposterous in the bonnet;
but in the dark, at least from a distance, the light-colored material
might well pass for blond hair.

"Do you like it?" he asked at last.

"Oh, yes, I think it's wonderful. It's much more attractive than the
hoods or fur caps we occasionally use when it's unusually cold at night.
But tell me, just what does Asterie look like? If I'm to deliver a
message to her, it would be good if I could recognize her easily. What
color is her hair? Is she tall or short, thin or full? Does she have
sisters with whom I might confuse her? Are they beautiful too?"

"You'll know her easily enough. You need only mention her name at the
door. Someone will take you to her, I'm sure. We have one last thing to
add." Helios crossed the room and returned with a long bronze sword,
which rested in an ornamental sheath and hung from a stout belt.

Zeus's eyes lit up when he saw it. "Am I to wear that?"

"Of course. It's essential. All the younger Titans wear swords when they
go out. It's only an ornament, usually-an emblem of our prowess-but you
wouldn't be fully dressed without it."

As Helios continued talking, he slipped the belt over the youth's head
and guided his arm through it, so that the belt fell across his chest
from shoulder to hip and the heavy sword hung suspended against his left
side. Zeus touched the hilt tentatively, then wrapped his fingers about
it and slowly drew the weapon, thrilled by the feel of it.

"Now, there's one more thing I should warn you about. I should have told
you before, in case it makes a difference to you. You mustn't let
Epimetheus get close to you. He's a very surly fellow. Probably he won't
bother you at all. He's waiting for me-or Perses or Pallas-not for some
stranger he's never seen before. The likelihood is he'll do nothing more
than watch you go by. But should he come out of his hiding place as you
approach, you must not hesitate. Draw this sword and strike him down
before he reaches you-or you're lost. I can't emphasize this enough.
Don't try to talk to him or reason with him-that's impossible. He's far
beyond reason. And don't run from him! The moment you turn, he'll strike
you down from behind."

Zeus was still holding the sword-almost lovingly-and examining the long
blade, but his expression had turned serious. "I've never used such a
weapon before. Is it very difficult?"

"It's not difficult at all. You've handled knives before. That's all
this is, really, just a big knife. Defend yourself with it just as you
would defend yourself with a knife, and you can't go wrong." He turned
toward Perses. "Is Epimetheus still hiding where he was?"

Perses nodded. "He hasn't moved."

"Good. Then I think we're ready to send our messenger to Lady Asterie.
What do you think of our new friend? Is his appearance suitable?"

Perses grinned. "Quite suitable. I'm sure Epimetheus will never suspect
. . . that you've sent him."

Helios made Zeus rehearse the message he was to deliver, then said,
"Pallas, will you lead our new friend down and point him in the right
direction?" The Titan took Zeus's arm and guided him toward the door,
where Pallas was already waiting. "I hope you won't think me
ill-mannered not to accompany you myself, but I've something I really
must attend to right now. Besides, we aren't actually saying goodbye.
You'll come back here, of course, as soon as you've delivered the
message for me. I hadn't thought that far ahead before, but you'll need
lodging for the night. My apartment is at your disposal, and I won't
hear of any other solution to that problem."

Zeus thanked his host and followed Pallas out of the apartment and into
the wide corridor. Helios watched them go, then closed the door and
hurried back to the window.

"What do you think now?" he demanded of Perses. "Will it work? Will
Epimetheus mistake him for me?"

"We'll be able to tell better when we see how he looks down there, in
the darkness. Really, though, I could barely contain myself. Use the
sword just as you would a knife! And he believed you!" The youth laughed
heartily.

Before long Zeus came into sight below. Pallas soon rejoined them, and
the three Titans stood watching together from the window as the Cretan
god walked briskly along the path that led to the Palace of Koios, where
Epimetheus still waited among the trees near the entrance.

"You chose his outfit well," Perses exclaimed. "He does look like you!"

Despite his best intentions, Zeus found himself dallying along the way
to study the fascinating buildings that rose around him and to wonder
about the marvelous deities who inhabited those formidable structures.
The cool night air of the mountaintop invigorated him and made him
curiously aware of many things, including the exquisite softness of his
borrowed doming, which seemed to caress his skin with each movement. It
would have been a perfect evening, except that the long, heavy sword
kept bouncing against his side and threatening to trip him.

As he drew near his destination, he saw the figure of a god stir among
the foliage a short distance beyond the entrance to the Palace of Koios.
He had already decided that his best hope of avoiding unpleasantness
would be to ignore Epime-theus if that Titan called to him; and so as
the figure came forward from among the trees, the youth hastened down
the walkway that led to the entrance. There were three tall steps, and
he mounted them almost at a run, crossed a wide portico and pounded on
the enormous outer doors.

Behind him, the figure changed course, following at a slower pace than
Zeus expected. The boy struck the door again with his fist, then let his
right hand settle upon Helios's sword.

"Wait, you coward," the god cried as he neared the steps. "I have a
score to settle with you. Come and face me!"

By now Epimetheus was too close to ignore, and so Zeus swung around to
meet his assailant. At the same moment two other figures emerged from
the darkness and rushed to intercept the Titan. Before they reached
Epimetheus, the great double doors behind Zeus opened partway, and the
god from Crete found himself looking down at a small child.

She smiled up prettily at him. "Whom do you wish to see?"

"I've come with a message for Lady Asterie," he said quickly, glancing
back again toward the gods behind him. He realized now that one of the
new arrivals was a goddess; she stood beside Epimetheus, with a hand
upon his forearm. Her companion had taken up a position on the other
side of the Titan, and both were addressing him in an energetic fashion.

"Come in, please," the child said pleasantly. "I'll tell my sister
you're here. Will your friends enter too?"

"No," Zeus answered rapidly. "Those aren't my friends, and I'm sure they
have no interest in seeing your sister."

He followed her inside and the child pushed the heavy door closed behind
them. Turning, he found himself in a spacious entrance hall.

"You may wait there," she continued, indicating a number of ornate,
thickly cushioned chairs that lined the wall.

The young goddess left him, and he sat quietly, looking about the great
chamber. It was attractively decorated in a manner similar to what he
had seen in the Palace of Hyperion, though not as lavishly. A few
minutes passed while he wondered what was taking place outside, and then
from across the atrium a full-figured maiden with flaxen hair
approached.

For a moment he was disappointed. If this was Asterie, then Helios and
Epimetheus must be blinded by love. Oh, she was pretty enough, he
thought, with a sweet, pouty mouth and large doe eyes, but certainly not
gorgeous.

She swept across the room, stopping directly in front of him. "You've
made quite an impression on Leto, my little sister. She says you have
the most interesting face she's ever seen. You know, I think she may be
right." The barest of smiles touched her full lips. "She also says you
have a message for me."

Asterie might not be gorgeous, Zeus thought, but she was
attractive-quite attractive indeed, with smooth, gently sloping thighs
and lush, full breasts, all clearly outlined beneath her clothing. He
rose and gave her his most charming smile.

Eight

"It must be Prometheus and Metis," Helios cried in disgust as he watched
from the high window of his apartment. "But how did they return without
our seeing them? They should still be over toward the other side of the
mountain, at the palace of your father."

Perses shrugged. "I've been watching the whole time, since you sent
Pallas out to get the boy. They must have doubled back along some other
route. I've never looked away for more than a few moments."

"My plan should have worked. It would have worked!" The Titan knotted
his fingers into a fist and struck the stone wall beside the window.
"You saw, didn't you? Epimetheus was almost upon him. An instant more
and he'd have drawn his sword-oh, what foul luck."

"It was an amusing idea nonetheless," Pallas said, "even if it didn't
succeed."

But Helios was unwilling to admit defeat so quickly. "Wait a little.
There must be something more we can do-some way to salvage our effort."
He spun around and stalked across the room. From a wall peg he lifted
down another sword, complete with belt and ornate sheath, and slipped it
on. Then he took down his companions' swords, which they had hung there
upon entering the room earlier in the day. "Come put these on. Perhaps
it isn't too late yet. There may still be a way.''

Grinning with excitement, Perses and Pallas took their weapons and
hurried after him down the long corridor. He led them to the exterior
balcony that Pallas had used before. They commanded wings to grow from
their backs, then flew in a wide semicircle that took them first partway
down the mountainside and then back up, so that they alighted behind a
low bluff. Advancing cautiously, they concealed themselves behind tall
trees as they drew near the Palace of Koios.

Metis and Prometheus still stood before the entrance of the building,
remonstrating with Epimetheus. When Helios found he could not hear them
satisfactorily, he signaled to his companions to remain where they were,
then started to creep forward. Perses leaned toward him.

"Wait," the youth whispered. "Why not just strike them down now, both
Prometheus and Epimetheus, while we have the chance-before they go back
home or into this palace? It doesn't matter what they say afterward. We
can always invent an excuse when we have more time to think."

Pallas nodded vigorously. "We don't need to invent anything. They're
together-Epimetheus and his brother. They've come looking for us. If we
confront them, an argument will surely result. Besides, we may never
have a better chance to cut them down."

"Perhaps,'' Helios whispered back,"but not yet. Let me listen to them
first, and think a bit. There may still be a better way."

"But-"

The Titan held up an imperious hand, and his companions fell silent. He
left them and made his way cautiously forward, finally reaching a point
no more than a dozen paces from the quarreling gods.

"Let me go," he heard Epimetheus say heatedly. "This isn't your affair,
Metis-nor yours, brother. It's easy for you two to speak of prudence and
restraint. You haven't been insulted and beaten. You haven't been
disgraced in the eyes of someone you care about. Imagine what he's
telling Asterie about me this very moment. I've got to tell her what
really happened. You've no right to interfere like this."

"We may not have a right," Metis said sharply, "but we certainly do have
an obligation-the obligation of those who care about you. Listen to us,
Epimetheus. You're acting rashly. No one will think ill of you for
allowing your wounds to heal before you settle this."

Within his nearby hiding place, Helios squirmed anxiously and gritted
his teeth. Again and again his gaze darted back and forth between the
gods he was watching and the broad portico that led to the entrance of
the palace. He kept expecting to see the great door open and Zeus come
back out. As he waited, he racked his mind for some way to turn the
situation to his advantage. Clearly they had all mistaken Zeus for
Helios, so that part of his plan had been successful. If they dallied
here until the youth returned, there was at least a possibility of a
confrontation between Epimetheus and the boy. Then he and his companions
could leap out and rush to Zeus's defense.

"We know how you feel, Epimetheus," Metis was saying. "Certainly you've
suffered an unforgivable outrage, but the wise always choose carefully
the time and manner of their retaliation. If it's Asterie that concerns
you most, I'll go and speak with her. I'll make certain she understands
what happened-the cowardly way you were attacked. Think well. If you go
in now, what's likely to happen when you confront Helios? Will you
attempt to strike him down in front of Asterie? What will she and her
family think of you if you barge into their home and commit violence
there?"

But Epimetheus seemed not even to hear her. "Let me be, both of you. I
know what I must-"

Just then another voice became audible, a female voice, sharp and
shrill. "How dare you?" it cried. "Release me!" There were other noises,
too, scuffling and running sounds from within the palace.

Now all of the gods-those standing before the portico as well as those
hiding nearby-turned to search for the source of the sound.

"You must stop-really you must!" the voice cried. "Stop or I'll call for
help!" Things crashed and banged, as if knocked to the floor in a great
commotion.

"That's Asterie!" Epimetheus broke free of Metis and Prometheus. "What's
that beast Helios doing to her?"

On the ground floor of the palace, toward the far side, a broad window
looked in upon a brightly lit chamber. Two figures appeared there
briefly. The first was an attractive young goddess, who held her hands
out in front of her as she backed across the opening; the second, a
handsome, well-dressed god who seemed to be speaking softly and trying
to mollify the maiden. But then the god lunged after her, and the maiden
struck at him, knocking off his hat and revealing the thick black curls
that had been concealed beneath it. She ducked under his arms, then
disappeared from sight, with the god right behind her.

"That's not Helios," Epimetheus shouted. "Who can it be?"

Helios cursed, a terrible scowl darkening his face. How dare that
ignorant bumpkin lay his hands on Asterie!

Now a shriek came from the window, followed by a shrill cry for help.

Epimetheus lumbered toward the palace, struggling to make his wounded
leg propel him up the stone steps. Prometheus rushed ahead so that he
could open the door for his injured brother.

Behind them, Helios stepped from his hiding place, his hand gripping his
sword. He called to Pallas and Perses, then followed the sons of
Iapetos, drawing his sword as he ran. His scheme against Epimetheus was
forgotten now that his malice had found a more immediate object.

Only Metis hung back. She watched in surprise as Helios and his
companions appeared from the nearby trees and charged up the steps,
across the portico, and into the palace. Then she looked back at the now
empty window. For nearly half a minute she stood quite still, thinking.

Finally the figure on her shoulder stirred. "Aren't we going inside,
too, mistress?" Alalkomeneus asked. "Undoubtedly they will require the
benefit of your wisdom."

Metis smiled despite herself. "It's difficult to refuse a request
couched in such flattery. I presume you don't want to miss the
excitement yourself. Yes, we'll go." She climbed the stairs at an almost
leisurely pace.

Alalkomeneus looked up into her face. "Mistress, wasn't the god in the
window the same god we met on Mount Pelion?"

"Yes, Alalkomeneus, I believe he was. How do you suppose he came to be
here?"

"I can't imagine, mistress. I hoped you might know."

By the time she reached the great entrance hall of the palace, it was
unoccupied. She crossed it, drawn by loud noises, and looked up a
stairway. Above her, disappearing from sight, was Epimetheus. Evidently
the other gods had rushed ahead of him, following Zeus and Asterie.

As Metis climbed the stairs, two floors above Asterie darted across a
large room and through a doorway, the handsome young messenger just
behind her. Once within the chamber, she spun around and frantically
threw her weight against the heavy door in an attempt to close and lock
it before the youth could follow her inside; but he was too close, and
before she could secure the barrier in place, he succeeded in inserting
his knee in the breach and began to slide through the narrow opening.

"Oh-oh!" she cried, looking again into his handsome, boyish face. She
realized she could not hold him back, and so she turned and fled, out
through a door on the other side of the room. In an instant Zeus was
after her.

She was a lovely creature-far prettier than the few nymphs he had seen
and pursued back home, among the high hills and verdant valleys of
Crete. Her flowing peplos clung to her as she ran, occasionally
revealing her trim ankles and calves. He was not quite sure what had
gone wrong below, in the little room oif the atrium to which the goddess
had conducted him. Certainly he had not intended to pursue her through
her father's home. His earlier experience with Dione had taught him that
soft words and pleasant smiles were more likely to yield success than
swiftness and raw strength.

At first the newly discovered charm seemed to work quite well. The
goddess smiled a great deal and fussed with her hair and clothing as she
listened to his recital of the message he had brought from Helios. When
he finished, she drew up a small stool and sat beside him, questioning
him closely-not merely about the Titan who was waiting outside, but also
about the young god himself; she inquired about his life before coming
to Mount Othrys and thanked him lavishly for assisting Helios.

But as she thanked him, she leaned far forward, so that the wide neck of
her peplos hung open, revealing much of the firm, rounded splendor she
kept hidden there. The tenuous aroma of her body reached out and
caressed his nostrils, and at the same moment her soft hand came to rest
on his knee in an innocently flirtatious gesture. The combined effect of
these three separate provocations proved more than the boy could resist,
and before he realized what he was doing he lurched from his chair and
threw his arms about her.

The goddess recoiled at his unexpected advance, throwing up an elbow. He
struck his chin against it, then discovered to his surprise that she had
already slipped from his grip. How wiry and nimble they were, despite
all their softly rounded contours! Their speed and agility never failed
to surprise him. He leaped after her, instinctively following as she
retreated. When his sword tripped him, he stripped it off and tossed it
aside. He chased her around and around the room, then out into the
atrium. She eluded him easily there, in the wide open area of the
spacious chamber-as long as she kept running. The atrium offered no
refuge, and when she realized she would have to keep running until
someone arrived to help her if she remained there, she darted up a wide
stairway instead, screaming still more loudly for help.

Zeus had so lost himself in the excitement of the chase that he failed
to hear the heavy footfalls and loud shouts behind them as Prometheus,
Epimetheus, Helios, Pallas, and Perses caught sight of him and charged
up the broad, winding stairway in pursuit. By this time more than one
sword had been drawn from its scabbard.

Even now as Asterie and Zeus darted across another wide chamber, with
the swiftest of the Titans only a dozen paces behind, the youth remained
oblivious to the danger that threatened him. All his energy and
concentration were directed instead at the lovely, fleet-footed
temptress who somehow managed always to remain just beyond the reach of
his outstretched fingers.

And then Asterie miscalculated, leading him into a room with but a
single entrance. She halted abruptly near the far side of the chamber
and swung around to face him, her bosom rising and falling rapidly
beneath the clinging fabric of her peplos. Her eyes darted from Zeus to
the door behind him, then to the windows on her left. He came to a halt
too, extending an open hand toward her and smiling pleasantly.

"Wait, lovely goddess. Don't run from me. I don't mean to harm you. I
only wanted to kiss you and hold you for a moment. I was so overcome by
your beauty that I lost control of myself. Look at me. Do I look as if
I'd harm you?"

As she listened, Asterie began to waver. The boy was quite handsome, and
his soft words were reassuring. She hesitated, softening visibly-and
then he was upon her, encircling her waist with his arms and bruising
her lips with his mouth.

A loud crash sounded from the room behind them as Helios stumbled over a
chair that Asterie had thrown in the path of her pursuer in a vain
effort to slow him down. Cursing, the Titan kicked it aside and rushed
into the little chamber, huffing from exertion; he had his sword drawn,
and at the sight of Asterie struggling in Zeus's arms rage overcame him.
He bellowed a terrible oath and propelled himself across the room,
swinging his sword up behind his head and then forward in a terrific
blow that threatened not Zeus alone, but Asterie as well, for the blade
might well shear through the youth and bury itself in the maiden behind
him.

Zeus looked around just in time to see the sword begin to fall and threw
himself backwards. He still held Asterie tightly clutched in his arms,
so that they fell to the floor together. Helios had put all his weight
and strength behind that blow and could not easily stop it. When Zeus
moved out of the way, the Titan had to lurch awkwardly to one side to
avoid slicing off his own leg. By the time he recovered from the
maneuver, Zeus had released Asterie and scrambled to his feet.

Still bellowing madly, the Titan swung a second blow. Zeus swept up a
nearby table and thrust it between himself and the gleaming blade. The
tremendous force of the blow shattered the table in his hands, and for a
moment he stared down at the fragments, considering for the first time
the harm such a stroke would do even a deathless god if it connected.
Months might be required for his divine body to repair itself properly
after such devastation. A shiver ran through him, and then he tumbled
out of the way as Helios `s sword fell a third time.

Now the room was filled with Titans- five of them in all- and his path
of retreat completely blocked.

"Who is this youth?" Asterie demanded shrilly of Helios. "Is it true
that you sent him here to me?"

"You ignorant lout," Helios cried, ignoring Asterie `s question as he
directed all his outrage at the newcomer to Mount Othrys. "You backwoods
oaf- how dare you lay your lowly hands on a Titaness! Did they teach you
nothing where you come from? I'll cut your body into a thousand pieces
and scatter them across the world. You dolt- you jackal! Is this how you
repay the hospitality of the Titans? Such conduct is never tolerated
among the great gods. What kind of creature are you?" As he spoke, his
voice grew louder and his face darker with fury.

"Wait a moment," an unexpected voice said from behind him, and Helios
glanced back to see Metis in the doorway, the mortal Alalkomeneus still
riding on her shoulder. "Before you punish him, ask Asterie what
happened. Make certain there's no mistake before you act."

Now everyone looked at Asterie, who was straightening her disheveled
clothing. "What happened?" she said haughtily, glaring at Helios. "You
know quite well what happened. You sent this animal to me with a
message. As soon as we were alone, he sprang upon me and tried to
assault me!"

Helios cursed again and raised his sword. At the same instant Zeus threw
himself across the room, toward the window. Epimetheus stood in that
direction and tried to stop him, but the boy pushed the injured god
aside without difficulty. The other Titans scrambled after the youth. As
his foot landed on the stone sill, Zeus struggled to imagine wings
growing from his back, then lunged out into the night from the
third-floor window.

Nine

As he fell, Zeus tried desperately to make his wings catch the air, but
something was wrong. Perhaps he was moving them improperly, or they were
not yet fully grown; in the turmoil of the moment, as he sought to avoid
the consequences of a three-story fall, it was impossible for him to
tell. One thing was certain, though. Unless he righted himself very
quickly, escape would probably be impossible. The pain and injury
resulting from such a plunge might be considerable, but surely such
discomfort paled to insignificance beside what his pursuers hoped to
inflict upon him.

At almost the last moment his great wings finally arrested his fall. He
struck the ground feetfirst, then stumbled and fell sideward. Rolling to
his feet, he turned and looked back toward the window, where Helios was
already climbing awkwardly through the narrow opening. Zeus dared not
try to escape by flight; he was too inexperienced at that art, and once
in the air the Titan could easily overtake him. Turning, he fled on
foot, his body reabsorbing his eagle wings as he ran.

Behind him, Helios at last succeeded in positioning himself on the
narrow window ledge. Balancing himself precariously, he caused wings to
grow, then soared downward after the fleeing youth. Perses immediately
took his place in the opening, while Pallas urged his brother to hurry.

Behind Pallas waited Epimetheus, equally impatient to defend the honor
of Asterie. Prometheus touched his arm to get his attention.

"It's probably not a good idea for you to try to fly tonight, with your
injuries. Even if you can fly without difficulty, you'll still have to
land-which could be quite painful. Besides, as long as it's taking them,
we can probably get outside nearly as swiftly by way of the stairs."

Epimetheus looked about uncertainly, then nodded his reluctant
agreement. Metis joined them, and together they descended the great
winding stairway as rapidly as Epimetheus's injured leg would allow.

Metis walked in silence, trying to sort out her thoughts and emotions.
The conduct of the young god was intolerable, of course. She should be
as outraged as the Titans, but somehow she found it difficult to
entertain harsh feelings toward him. It was a curious reaction-very much
unlike her. She grew particularly chagrined when she realized that she
had already invented a whole series of possible extenuating
circumstances that might exonerate the boy or lessen his guilt.

When they reached the portico, Pallas and Perses had already joined
Helios. Finding it too difficult to search from the air at night, the
older Titan had alighted a short distance away and the three were now
scouring a dark area near the palace. Soon Pallas cried out and pointed
across the path, and then they ran in that direction, toward a farther
cluster of trees. Metis and her companions followed at a distance.

"This is profiting us nothing," Helios said at last, snarling the words.
"We must separate and go in different directions to have a better chance
of capturing him. You, Pallas, climb to the top of the bluff and watch
from there. He may show himself in one of the open areas. Perses and I
will look for him along either side of this path."

While they searched, Zeus continued running. He had cut across the main
walkway in front of the Palace of Koios, then zigzagged among the trees
and shadows until he reached another building. He crept along the rear
of it, then crossed through a grove of towering cypress, only to come
upon yet another looming edifice a few minutes later. Pausing, he
listened for his pursuers.

Even though he had traveled what seemed like a good distance, he could
still hear them-muffled talking and an occasional loud shout. He was not
sure, but they sounded closer than he would have expected. Again he
considered trying to escape by flight, but quickly gave up the idea. The
moon was rising now, almost guaranteeing that he would be seen once he
rose into the sky. No, he reasoned, it would be far less risky to remain
hidden until they grew tired of searching for him. Then he could depart
in a more leisurely manner.

But where could he hide until then? He could stay where he was, but that
certainly was not an appealing prospect. The nearby palace presented a
far more attractive option; if it was like either of those he had
already visited tonight, it undoubtedly offered many fine rooms where he
could comfortably wait out his pursuers without much chance of being
discovered. He might even find a place where he could sleep until early
morning. He was quite tired, and that possibility was very appealing
indeed.

Before thinking any further-he feared he might talk himself out of the
notion-he slipped from among the trees and went to the rear of the
building. Here he found a window that led to a wide, empty corridor.
Vaulting through the opening, he followed the corridor until he came
upon a stairway, then ascended a number of floors, expecting to find
fewer inhabitants wandering about on the higher levels. At last he
ventured into another corridor and crept along it, a strange sense of
familiarity beginning to trouble him.

Meanwhile the Titan Pallas abandoned his sentry post atop the bluff and
flew to where Helios was searching. Settling beside him, he grinned
broadly.

"What is it?" Helios demanded. "Have you seen him?"

The youth nodded. "You'll never guess where he's gone."

"Where? Tell me quickly. This isn't a game. The scoundrel must be
punished!"

"He's in the palace of your father."

Helios cursed. "What audacity! Such brashness is an added insult to me.
Wait until I get hold of that banding!" He knotted his hand into a fist.
"Go to Perses and tell him what you've seen.''

Pallas nodded.

"Wait a moment more. We mustn't let him escape while we're searching the
palace for him. Someone will have to remain outside to watch-two gods,
and they might as well be you and Perses. I want you to take up a
position at the front right corner. From there you'll be able to see
both the front and the right side of the building. From the left rear
corner Perses can similarly observe the other two sides. Hurry. Tell
Perses what to do and take up your positions. We mustn't let him escape
again!"

Pallas hastened to do as he was bid.

As Helios strode off, Alalkomeneus turned to his mistress. "I think
they've found the boy, my lady. Shall we assist them in capturing him,
or shall we only watch?"

"I think we'll watch."

Alalkomeneus stared up at her in puzzlement. There was an odd something
in her voice that he did not recognize and which left him uneasy.

As Metis followed Helios toward his home, Zeus continued down the long
hall, growing more and more uncertain with each step. The two other
palaces he had visited today had seemed quite similar to one another;
but the sense of familiarity he experienced now was nothing short of
uncanny-unless....

And then, as the end of the hallway came into sight, his doubts were
replaced by a conviction; he realized that he had unwittingly returned
to the Palace of Hyperion. He looked back down the corridor; a number of
doors opened upon it, any of which might lead to an adequate hiding
place should he suddenly need to conceal himself.

He pondered briefly, then made up his mind. Perhaps chance had led him
to the safest place he might find tonight. After all, who would expect
him to return here? Any place but this would seem an eminently more
appropriate retreat with the son of Hyperion madly searching for him. He
would stay here, he decided, if he could find a suitable chamber.

The thought of a few hours' sleep appealed to him greatly, and the irony
of such a sanctuary had its charm too.

Just ahead lay the door he recognized as the entrance to the apartment
of Helios. He had reason to think it empty, and so he entered without
hesitation. He crossed to the middle of the room, where his faded cloak
lay upon the floor. Stripping off the clothing Helios had provided, he
rolled it all up together and stuifed it back in one of the chests,
which still stood open with clothing bulging out.

His old cloak was much more comfortable, he decided, even if the fabric
was coarser in every way. It was what he was accustomed to, and it
didn't make him feel stiff and unnatural. He adjusted it about his
shoulders and was peering at himself in Helios's large mirror when
someone tapped at the outer door.

Before he could conceal himself, the door swung open and a tall maiden
stood in the doorway. She saw Zeus immediately, nodded and smiled at
him, then glanced expectantly about the room. Puzzled now, she looked
back toward the youth.

"Where is my brother?" Her voice was musical, almost lilting.

That she was Helios's sister came as no surprise; she looked very much
like a slender, more delicately featured version of the Titan. She was
nearly as tall as her brother, with silver blonde hair that fell nearly
to her waist. Her lean, athletic body was displayed to great advantage
within the simple knee-length chiton she wore. She strolled easily
toward him, still smiling, while Zeus tried to concoct a convincing
reply.

"Has he gone out?" she asked.

The youth nodded.

"Oh? Will he be back soon?"

"I suppose so," Zeus said awkwardly, still struggling to devise some
explanation of his presence here. At the same time he kept glancing
behind her, toward the door to the corridor; she had left it open and he
was calculating how swiftly he could make his escape. "I'm not sure how
long he'll be gone."

The goddess tilted her head fetchingly to one side. "Do you know where
he is?''

"He's gone to search for an intruder upon Mount Othrys," Zeus said
suddenly, not really sure why he said it.

"An intruder? Why, what do you mean? What intruder?"

He hesitated uncertainly, then threw caution to the wind. "Me," he
answered simply, looking at her in his most charming and ingenuous
fashion.

"You!" She stared at him closely now, noting the dilapidated condition
of his cloak and his generally dusty appearance. "Who are you-and why is
he searching for you?"

"I am Zeus, the son of Amaltheia," he said with a slight bow, "a
newcomer to Mount Othrys who arrived here only a short while ago. I was
born and grew up far away on an island called Crete, far from the Titans
and other great gods. At first your brother and his friends were very
kind to me. They invited me to join them here, in this room, where they
fed me-for I was very hungry and tired from my long journey. But I'm
afraid I must somehow have . . . offended them. I'm so ignorant of the
ways of the great gods! Whatever I did or said, I did or said in
ignorance. It must have constituted a terrible affront, my lady.
Otherwise I can't account for the violence of your brother's reaction.
He took up his sword and chased me out into the night."

A pretty pout touched the divine maiden's lips. "He did, did he-my noble
brother. Isn't that just like him! Always ready to fly into a rage at
the slightest thing. Well, my friend, you've nothing more to fear. I am
Selene, eldest daughter of the Titan Hyperion, and I've just made it my
business to see that no harm befalls you. But I still don't quite
understand. If Helios is outside the palace, looking for you, how do you
come to still be here, in his room?"

"I managed to elude him as I ran, and hid myself not far from here. He
thought I'd left the palace, and so pursued me outside. After a bit I
came out of my hiding place and wandered about, trying to decide what to
do. I somehow found my way back here."

"Well, I'm glad you did, for now I can help you. You say you're hungry.
Come with me to my room and I'll give you food and drink. My father
hasn't returned yet, so I can't take up your case with him immediately,
but as soon as he returns I'll straighten everything out."

"That really isn't necessary, my lady," Zeus continued, pleased at the
general result of his deceit but not anxious to have Selene talk about
him with anyone. "If you'd only help me find a secure place where I can
sleep for a short while- until dawn, perhaps-that would be more than
satisfactory. Your brother fed me, but I'm very tired after my long
journey. Truthfully, I've seen more than enough of Mount Othrys for one
visit, and am anxious to return home."

The goddess visibly drew herself up. "That's not at all the way to
handle such matters," she insisted vigorously. "When there's a
misunderstanding, it's always best to deal with it immediately. It must
never be left to fester. But if you're tired, then certainly you must
rest. Come, I'll take you to my rooms. No one will disturb you there, I
can assure you."

The goddess wore an expression that brooked no disagreement, and Zeus
followed Selene down a series of corridors.

As the Cretan god found sanctuary within the apartment of Selene, Helios
entered the palace. He immediately sought out an attendant, one of the
many lesser gods of the earth and sea who served as functionaries to the
Titans.

"Has Lord Hyperion returned yet?"

The god shook his head. "No, my lord."

Helios frowned. "So be it, then. You must go and gather all the gods who
serve my father. Make no noise doing this. There's a strange god hiding
among us, and we must find and restrain him." He stopped abruptly, a
sudden thought troubling him. "I must see to the safety of my mother and
sisters before anything else. Go quickly, be silent, and when they're
all gathered, begin the search here on the ground floor. I'll rejoin you
as soon as I can."

He ran to the great central stairway and rushed upward, two steps at a
time. On the fifth floor he found the chambers of the Titaness Thea,
wife of Hyperion.

"Are you safe, mother? Have you seen a strange god about the palace?"

"Of course I'm safe," the goddess answered, startled at his sudden
appearance and frantic manner. "Who would dare harm me?"

He quickly told her about Asterie and the youthful visitor from Crete.
As they spoke he searched her room to assure himself that no one was
hidden there. "You must lock your door behind me," he told her when he
was finally satisfied that she was alone and safe. "Don't open it again
until I return to tell you that we've captured him."

Thea stared after him in amazement as he left her, but did as he
requested.

Next he went to find his young sister Eos. She was a pretty child,
barely touched by the first blush of maidenhood, and he was greatly
relieved to find her safely in her own room. When he had searched there
too, and given her similar instructions, he returned to the corridor
feeling considerably calmer. Only a single apartment remained to be
checked, and then he could devote himself with an untroubled mind to
hunting down the villain.

Outside Selene's door he waited impatiently, calling to her repeatedly
to hurry. At last the door opened, but his sister stood firmly in the
opening, preventing him from entering.

"Lock myself in?'' Selene said when he had finished his hectic speech.
"What good would such a measure do? My windows stand wide open. Anyone
who dares may fly in through them."

Helios fretted at the time he was losing in explanation. "That's true,
of course, but I've posted Pallas and Perses outside. Should this god
attempt such a thing, they would see him. Please let me in, sister. I
have to hurry."

"Indeed, not. My rooms are my own. I'll not have you or anyone else
rummaging about them. Besides, there's no one here but me. I haven't
left this apartment since afternoon. But tell me, brother, why are you
so intent upon finding this god? What's he done?"

Selene played her part well, not once glancing back toward the inner
doorway through which she had sent the boy. She had known Zeus for only
a few minutes, but those few minutes were enough to convince her that
her brother had seriously misjudged the charming youth.

"He tried to violate Asterie. Had we not come to her rescue . . ."

Selene was quick-witted and strong-willed, with a mind of her own.
Concealing her surprise, she peered searchingly into her brother's face.
She knew that it was well within the range of possibility that Helios
was fabricating this story for some purpose of his own. Moreover, she
found it impossible to believe that the smiling, handsome youth in die
next room could commit such an offense. No, she decided; there had to be
some mistake. Things could not be as her brother represented them.

"I see," she said. "Well, thank you for your warning, brother. I'll lock
my door and keep it locked, as you suggest. Don't concern yourself
further about me. I'll be perfectly safe here."

Helios found himself staring at her closed door. He heard the bolt
engage on the other side, then turned slowly and started back toward the
stairs. Selene's conduct was curious, but he reassured himself with the
thought that such was usually the case.

By the time he rejoined the gods downstairs, they had almost finished
searching the first floor of the palace. He took charge immediately.
Some of them were unarmed. He sent for weapons, then posted a guard at
the foot of each stairway. Soon he led the remaining gods upstairs,
extending the search to the second floor. Helios was becoming more and
more angry. To have such a rustic fool foil him-the son of Hyperion-was
unthinkable. The upstart must be taught a lesson that all the world
would note.

The search of the second floor was nearly completed when a loud
commotion drew Helios's attention toward one of the stairways. He heard
muffled shouting, and after a few moments he thought he recognized the
voice of Selene. As he rushed upward toward her apartment, he heard what
seemed to be crashing sounds, too, and still more shouting. Even
climbing as fast as he could, it took him more than a minute to reach
the corridor that housed his sister's apartment, and all that time the
noises did not abate. Instead they grew louder.

As he came within sight of her apartment, its outer door flew open and a
god stumbled into the corridor. It was Zeus, and no sooner had he exited
the room than a shower of missiles followed-small boxes and vases,
handfuls of jewelry, even small pieces of furniture. The boy had his
arms raised to protect his face and head, but twist and dodge as he
might, he could not escape unscathed.

Now Selene came through the doorway, continuing to pelt him with ever
increasing accuracy.

"Who do you think I am?" she demanded. "Do I look like some nameless
frolic of the hills or streams? How dare you! How dare you, you
contemptible creature! You've no more sense than a rutting goat, and
that's how you must be treated."

Zeus dodged again, let out a yelp as something hard struck his cheek,
then bolted down the long corridor, away from both Selene and her
brother. He disappeared around a turn.

Helios rushed to his sister. "Are you hurt?" he demanded. "I thought-"

"Oh, leave me alone!" she cried furiously, throwing the last of her
missiles at him. She stepped back into her room, slammed the door, and
shot the bolt closed again.

Helios ran after the boy. When he rounded the corner he caught a glimpse
of movement from a balcony at the far end of the corridor. He hurried
there, but by the time he stepped through the opening and stood on the
balcony, Zeus was gone.

"Where is he?" the Titan called down at Pallas, who was in plain sight
at the corner of the building. "Where did he go?"

"Somewhere over there," the god answered, pointing back in the general
direction of the Palace of Koios, "but I can't see him now. He landed
out of sight, beyond the trees."

"Follow him!" Helios commanded, preparing to fly after the youth
himself.

Meanwhile Metis had grown tired of standing about outside the Palace of
Hyperion and decided to return home. Strolling away leisurely, she had
traveled a fair distance and begun to whistle a reflective air when an
awkward, winged figure alighted unexpectedly a dozen paces ahead of her.
A second goddess had been following the same path, coming from the other
direction toward Metis. The boy ran past the approaching figure, then
disappeared toward a nearby building.

"It looks as though they'll never catch him," Metis told Alalkomeneus,
and the man riding on her shoulder nodded gravely.

As she drew nearer, Metis could see the other goddess more clearly. She
was of medium height and mature figure, wearing a dark veil that only
partly concealed her rich chestnut hair. She had stopped to stare after
the boy, and Metis now recognized her as the Titaness Rhea. From her
better vantage point Rhea had undoubtedly been able to judge more
accurately than Metis where Zeus had gone, and so Metis followed her
gaze as she came up beside her. The Titaness was looking down the side
of the Palace of Mnemosyne, where a number of wide windows offered
convenient egress to the fugitive.

Helios landed nearby, and at the heavy sound of approaching footsteps,
Metis turned to see Pallas and Perses coming toward them around a
thicket of trees.

"Did you see him?" Helios demanded of both Metis and Rhea. "Which way
did he go?"

Metis glanced at Rhea and was surprised to find the Titaness staring
intently at her. She was surprised, too, by how drawn and pale Rhea
looked-as though she had just experienced an extreme shock or
surprise.... something far more startling than the sudden appearance and
abrupt departure of an ungainly youth.

"Didn't either of you see him?" Helios asked frantically, turning to
peer up and down the path as he awaited their reply.

"He ran up there,'' Rhea said calmly, in a voice that seemed too level,
too controlled. Still watching Metis, she pointed in the opposite
direction from that in which Zeus had disappeared, upward toward a dense
growth of cypress and the summit of the mountain. "If you rush you may
still catch him."

"Over here," Helios shouted to his companions, who had run on ahead of
him down the stone-paved path. Without waiting for them, he drew his
sword and charged toward the grove.

When Metis looked back, Rhea had already begun to walk away.

"Now that was certainly peculiar," Alalkomeneus observed as Metis
resumed her interrupted journey.

Ten

Earlier that day, Pan, the son of Amaltheia, slumped down upon a
convenient hillock. Behind him lay the high, rolling hills over which he
had ranged for most of the afternoon. Ahead a low, ragged coast led down
to a broad sea.

For a few minutes he brooded upon the unfairness of his lot. What a
terrible torture it was, time and time again to come within a
hairsbreadth of such exquisite loveliness, only to have it inevitably
slip away! A second day was nearly gone now, since he and Zeus had
ventured from their island home, and all his efforts had yielded only
the same questionable rewards-humiliation and fatigue. To add to his
burden, he would now have to devote some of his energy to locating his
brother, for he dared not return home alone. Amaltheia, though normally
the most gentle of goddesses, could be a stern parent indeed when roused
to anger.

But searching for Zeus tomorrow would undoubtedly provide interesting
new opportunities, new beauties to be pursued and, perhaps, conquered;
and so he resigned himself to his situation. He was constitutionally
incapable of sustained worry, and his attention soon turned to his
surroundings.

He rose and stretched, then went down toward the shore.

Farther out, near the left bank of the little cove, a herd of seals
frolicked in the rocks and frothy surf. They presented an amusing sight,
and he watched them as he strolled along the opposite side of the cove,
letting the waves bathe his feet.

His foot soon struck something, and he stooped to examine a smooth,
brightly colored patch of shell that protruded from the sand. First he
dug at it with a toe, then squatted down and used his fingers. An
enormous conch shell emerged, larger than any he had ever seen before.
It was fully as big as his fist, with many interesting twists and turns
and delicate shades of color. He peered inside to be sure it no longer
housed a living creature, then waded out into the water and washed the
sand from it in the waves.

When he put it to his ear and listened, he was disappointed. The sound
it held was more like a gentle breeze than like sea waves. He began
walking again, contenting himself with a more detailed examination of
the shell's pretty convolutions. Thoroughly absorbed, he neglected to
watch his footing, and before he had proceeded a dozen paces he
stumbled. The shell flew from his fingers and struck a rock.

Retrieving it quickly, he turned it over and over in his hands. The
thing had given him pleasure, and he was distressed to find that through
his own carelessness it was now damaged; a small hole had been neatly
punched in its narrow end. The shaggy god fingered it sadly, about to
consign it back to the sea; but instead he held it to his ear again and
continued walking.

Eventually he turned the shell around, put the newly formed hole to his
mouth, and blew softly. A curious, almost plaintive sound issued from
it, with a haunting, uncomfortable quality. Pan had been traveling along
one arm of the cove and was now exactly opposite the still-cavorting
seals. He found a suitable place to sit and settled down to watch as
they repeatedly scrambled out of the water and up onto a number of flat,
slippery rocks, then dived back again. All the while he continued to
blow gently through the shell.

Finally he took a deep breath and blew harder.

The result was a long, piercing wail that made him shiver. Far more
marked, though, was the reaction of the animals across from him. Now all
playfulness was gone, replaced by frantic activity. Where before they
had leaped and scampered, now they fled blindly in every direction,
trampling one another. They seemed oblivious to everything but the need
to escape, and dived madly upon each other and even into the rocks.

Pan held the conch shell at arm's length, examining it with renewed
interest.

Sometime later he began walking back toward the hills, where he hoped to
find some sign of Zeus. As he left the beach, he passed near a tree
where many birds had gathered-thirty or more of them. Pausing, he
glanced at the trinket in his hand and then back at the birds. Unable to
overcome his curiosity, he brought the shell to his lips and blew again-
not loudly, because he was already dreading the sound it would make, but
loud enough for the birds to hear.

The effect was immediate, and created a scene like none he had ever
witnessed. The creatures seemed to go mad with fear, flying in every
direction at once. They collided with each other again and again, or
flew blindly into tree branches and fell to the earth, stunned if not
seriously injured.

Pan shook himself, trying to overcome the effect the sound had had on
him. Again he considered ridding himself of the object, and again he
decided not to. Instead he went on walking. Later still, with night
approaching, he found himself near a wide, clear river and stopped to
rest and eat. A pouch hung from a cord about his neck, and he shook from
it a few pieces of ambrosia. Breaking them into fragments, he scattered
them upon a bare, patch of ground and commanded them to grow. Then he
sat nearby and watched as the golden stalks sprouted upward. Lying upon
his back, he snapped them off one by one and nibbled upon them while he
daydreamed.

When his hunger was satisfied, he harvested the remaining ambrosia and
stored it carefully within his pouch. He was about to go to the river to
drink when he heard low voices and distant laughter. Turning instantly,
he scrambled for concealment.

He hid himself behind tall, thick bushes, lying prone upon the ground to
avoid being seen as three lovely nymphs came into sight and approached
the opposite side of the river. As he waited and watched, he calculated
the distance that

separated him from the lovely creatures. One knelt to drink, then a
second beside her. They were no more than thirty paces away-but thirty
paces could be quite a distance, he thought glumly. They would see him
the instant he stirred, long before he managed to reach even this side
of the river.

Then he noticed the conch shell, which was in his hand; he must have
instinctively scooped it up before retreating to his hiding place. Why
not? he thought suddenly. If they reacted with the same confusion as the
seals and the birds, he might gain the extra moments he needed. And even
if his efforts failed, it would at least be interesting to observe the
effect of that terrible sound upon these lesser goddesses.

First, though, he had to protect himself. He had heard the song of the
conch twice already today and considered that quite sufficient.
Snatching up a number of tufts of green, pliant grass, he twisted them
together and pushed the resulting plugs into his ears. Then he took a
deep breath and brought the shell to his lips.

He blew harder than ever before, and the response of the nymphs was
instantaneous. They slipped and slid in the soft, wet earth beside the
stream. They grasped each other for support, then floundered in the
water.

Pan rose and rushed toward them. They were hopelessly ensnared, and two
of them had begun to scream in terror. He charged into the
river-disbelieving. He was so close they could not possibly escape now.
Within moments he would have his arms about one of the enticing
creatures!

But the bottom of the river was now very slippery, and he had to be
careful of his footing. In their efforts to extricate themselves from
the mud, one took hold of his arms, another of his leg. His feet slid
from under him and he went down with them, muddy water covering his
face. He tried to rise, but a foot settled on his chest, pushing him
back down.

At last he came to the surface, spewing out water. It took him a few
moments to blink his eyes clear, and then he saw that all but a single
nymph had already escaped, and the remaining one had just succeeded in
regaining the bank. He pulled himself out of the water, but she was
already a dozen paces away.

He followed her along a trail that led higher and higher up the side of
a mountain. At first he thought he would easily overtake her, but as the
chase continued she began to outdistance him. He had managed all this
time to cling to the conch shell, and now he blew fiercely upon it
again. The nymph shrieked in fear-and ran faster.

The way became even steeper, and he fought not to lose sight of her
among its many curves. Each time he blew upon the shell she shrieked
again, and spurted forward, propelled by mad panic. At last she
disappeared beyond a dip in the trail.

He reached the same place a moment later, and stopped suddenly. He could
still see her below him-twisting and turning as she fell. Her terrified
screams ended abruptly when she struck the bottom of the ravine.

Shaken, Pan stepped back from the edge of the cliff. He stared down at
the shell, then drew back his arm to fling the terrible thing after the
nymph. But again he hesitated. He turned it over and over in his hands,
then finally opened the pouch that hung from his neck, in which was
stored his supply of ambrosia, and slipped the shell inside for
safekeeping.

As Pan began to search for a suitable place to sleep, far to the south,
among the green mountains of his island home, the goat goddess Amaltheia
paced nervously before the entrance of a great cavern. Shaped like a
goat of gigantic proportion, she was part goddess, part divine beast.
Her slow, brutish mind reasoned only with difficulty, but she felt as
acutely as any deity. This evening she felt loneliness and great
anxiety. Occasionally something approaching a plaintive whine escaped
her mouth.

Behind her, within the cavern, the nymph Ida drew near the entrance to
look out. She was soon joined by her sister Adrastia.

"Poor thing," Ida whispered softly. "I don't think she's eaten a bite
since yesterday. She's so unhappy. I do hope Zeus and Aigipan come home
soon. It's terribly thoughtless of them to stay away so long and worry
us all like this."

"Indeed it is," Adrastia agreed, nodding her head energetically. "It's
wicked of them-very wicked indeed!"

As they looked on, the divine beast lifted high her great spiraled horns
and stared intently toward a narrow path that led down a mountainside.
Some sound or movement had attracted her attention, and she stood
completely rigid, watching expectantly. Eventually, when no one appeared
there, she moved back toward the cavern and lay down just outside the
entrance, curling her legs beneath her and resting her shaggy jaw on her
forelegs.

"She's going to rest," Adrastia said. "I'm so glad. She certainly needs
it. She has such a good heart, sister, such a good, good heart. Why,
sometimes I think she's fonder of Zeus than of her own-"

"Quiet! You know we've been warned not to speak of it."

"But the children aren't here. Ida, you know I'd never say such a thing
if they might overhear. I'm not so foolish as that-really, I'm not!"

"We shouldn't speak of it at all," Ida whispered back softly. "I don't
think she even remembers anymore. I think she considers herself Zeus's
mother every bit as much as he does. But sometimes a dead fire will
awaken to flame when the ashes are stirred. We mustn't rekindle those
old memories. It's really much better if she has forgotten. Were she to
remember, she might someday reveal it to the boy-without intending to do
so, of course."

"You're right, sister, she might indeed. I'm so sorry. I hadn't thought
of that. Certainly she's done her best to be a mother to them both, in
her poor, simple fashion."

"I do wish they'd return," Ida continued after a few moments of silence.
"It makes me uneasy, having them away so long. There are so many perils
they could encounter out there, in the wide world-perils even for a
great god like ..." She stopped herself before uttering the divine boy's
name.

"Indeed," Adrastia agreed, "and they're both given to such mischief. It
makes me shudder to think of it. Why, if anyone should learn that Zeus
is-"

"Quiet!" Ida admonished again. "You know we mustn't talk about rftaf!"

"Oh, yes-I really must be more careful. I keep starting to say things
that I know I shouldn't. But listen, sister, do you know what Amaltheia
told me this morning?"

"She told you something? You must mean those curious goat noises she
makes. Zeus and Pan seem to understand them well enough, but I'm never
sure what she means. I haven't heard her actually talk in years and
years. She didn't do that, did she?"

"Indeed, she did. It was dreadful to watch, the terrible contortions she
had to put her face through to make her poor mouth form the words. And
such words! It was all I could do to unscramble them. She said she
wanted to go search for Zeus and Aigipan-that they might be in trouble
and need her! Now I ask you, if they were in some kind of difficulty,
what possible help could Amaltheia be?''

The nymphs laughed together, loudly enough that they had to quell their
merriment when the goat goddess raised her head and looked back toward
them.

"Oh, you're right, Adrastia. She does have such a good heart, the poor
dear creature! I do hope you didn't laugh out loud when she told you
that. She's very sensitive, you know."

"No, of course I didn't. I'm sure she had no idea what I was thinking.
But some of her notions are so foolish, it's difficult not to laugh. It
was terribly amusing, though, don't you think?"

Eventually Ida and Adrastia grew bored and left Amaltheia to her
solitary vigil. Night fell, but still she waited outside the cavern for
the return of her sons. Much of the time she paced, and occasionally she
whined softly to herself. The nymphs sought their beds, but still she
waited.

At last, when the moon was nearly overhead, Amaltheia reentered the
cavern. She approached each of the nymphs and squinted at them in the
dim light of the single lamp they had left burning. When she was certain
both were asleep, she returned to the entrance and stood there
uncertainly.

How familiar her surroundings were; sometimes it seemed as if she had
lived her entire life here. Only occasionally did dim memories surface
of another home, of different hills and meadows where once she had
roamed; memories, too, of loneliness and hurt-of cruel nymphs who never
tired of taunting and tormenting her, of reminding her that she was not
like them, that she was some kind of freak of the divine order, not
fully a goddess at all.

But none of that mattered anymore, since she had come here. In her
children she had found all the love and fulfillment she required. How
wonderful her boys were! How bright and spirited! A warm glow came over
her from just thinking about them.

It seemed like only the day before yesterday when they had suckled at
her milk-swollen udders; like only yesterday when they rushed to climb
onto her broad back at every opportunity, begging her to ride them up
and down the steep mountain slopes. Every time they fell and hurt
themselves, she would lick their cuts and bruises, receiving in return
their enthusiastic kisses and hugs.

No mother was ever prouder of her offspring. Even as a small child Zeus
had been superbly formed-tall for his age, straight and perfectly
proportioned. He was easily the most handsome child she or Ida or
Adrastia had ever seen. Pan was another matter, but Amaltheia loved him
too, despite all his awkwardness and mischief. She was never happier
than when they were both near her....

As she thought of them now, a great ache throbbed within her. At last
she reached a decision and headed down a narrow path that led into a
forest. When she had descended a short distance, she stopped and made a
low bleating sound, then raised her head expectantly.

From among the dark trees a figure of divine form and stature stepped
toward her. She bleated again, sharply this time, and motioned to the
north with her head. The figure clapped his hands together.

From the foliage all about them other Kouretes appeared- tall, with
shaven heads, their naked bodies streaked white with chalk-until
Amaltheia stood surrounded by a hundred savage warriors. The goat
goddess motioned a second time, and the divine bodyguard of Zeus sprang
forward at her command, the bronze points of their spears glistening in
the moonlight as she led them northward, in search of her children.

Eleven

Metis's parents, Lord Okeanos and Lady Tethys, seldom stirred from the
vast, watery domain that they ruled from their palace at the edge of the
world; but their exalted position among the gods led them to maintain a
second residence, of appropriate splendor, on Mount Othrys, that the
King of the Ocean and his queen might be suitably housed when they
visited among their Titan brothers and sisters. During their prolonged
absences this imposing edifice was placed at the disposal of those of
their children who wished to inhabit it. Metis had lived there for many
years, occupying a large suite on the third floor.

"Will you now retire for the night, mistress?" Alalkomeneus asked as
they neared her apartment. The Okeanid had traveled in silence since
leaving the scene of Zeus's frantic escape, and the true purpose of his
question was to engage her in conversation.

She started at his unexpected interruption of her thoughts. "Perhaps
so," she told the mortal upon her shoulder. "I really haven't stopped to
think about it. Are you tired, my friend? I'm under the impression that
all you've done today is let me carry you about."

She took down a flaming torch from just outside the entrance to her
apartment and brought it inside with her.

"Yes, I think I could sleep," he answered pleasantly, finding no offense
in her words. He never took offense at anything Metis told him. "On the
other hand, so many unusual things have happened today that it might be
interesting and worthwhile to discuss them. I have several suggestions
concerning ways that Lord Epimetheus might deal with Lord Helios, and if
you like-"

Metis smiled wanly. "You insights are always welcome, Alalkomeneus. But
perhaps we could talk of this later, or tomorrow. I find I'm more tired
than I realized."

Once inside, she located a small oil lamp, lit it, then quickly returned
the torch to its sconce in the outer corridor. When they reached her
bedroom, she lifted the man down and set him upon the bed.

Alalkomeneus studied the enormous face of the goddess. Usually Metis
beamed with life and energy. Tonight, however, she seemed.... dimmed.
The mortal could find no better way to express her uncharacteristic
appearance and demeanor.

"Mistress," he said at last, "is something troubling you?"

She had turned away to position the lamp on a nearby table. "Do I look
troubled?" She faced him again, then laughed. "I suppose I am. Is it so
easy to see inside me, Alalkomeneus?"

"I doubt that others could tell, my lady, but I can."

"That, at least, is some comfort."

"Do you wish to discuss this thing that troubles you? Perhaps by...."

She shook her head, perhaps a trifle too quickly. "No, my friend, at
least not tonight. For one thing, I'm not at all sure exactly what is
bothering me, and so I wouldn't know where to begin our discussion."

"Is it the youth-Zeus?" he asked, persisting.

Metis frowned and seemed unwilling to answer. At last she said, "All in
all, I think it might be wisest for us both to go to sleep early. Are
you hungry? In all the rush to prevent Epimetheus from destroying
himself, I forgot about supper completely."

She brought nectar and ambrosia from another room and pulled a small
table over next to her bed. They ate together in silence, Alalkomeneus
sitting cross-legged on the table top.

As she ate, Metis brooded. Ever since leaving her sisters on Mount
Pelion, she had been unable to rid her thoughts of Zeus. Normally she
was able to focus her considerable mental powers with remarkable
efficiency, instantly bringing them to bear on any problem that
confronted her. Extraneous concerns never distracted her. But this
evening the handsome face and winning smile of the Cretan god had popped
into her mind repeatedly, with annoying and distracting frequency. The
whole time she and Prometheus had been searching for Epimetheus, her
mind had kept wandering back to Mount Pelion and the oddly appealing
youth.

Now, as she continued eating, she began to examine her thoughts and
feelings in detail.

She was puzzled. Nearly everything about him was a mystery. Why had he
left Mount Pelion so soon after her own departure? He had planned to
visit with Cheiron and Metis's sisters, then continue his search for his
brother. How had he come instead to be here on Mount Othrys, involved
with Helios-and with Asterie? Why had Lady Rhea grown pale at the sight
of him and purposely misdirected his pursuers? And there was something
else about the young god that puzzled her, something about him that she
sensed but could not identify. . . .

But none of that, she realized, had anything to do with what was
troubling her.

He was just another foolish youth, like so many others she had known.
How had he managed in the few minutes they had spent together to make
such an impression on her that she was still thinking of him hours
later? He should have been completely forgotten as soon as she left
Mount Pelion; and after his unexpected appearance among the Titans, she
should have nearly forgotten him again by the time she entered her
apartment. No other god had ever intruded on her thoughts so
persistently.

She wondered where he was now. If he had continued to elude Helios, then
probably he already would have left Mount Othrys to return to his
distant home. She would probably never see him again.

The Okeanid stiffened in consternation. That thought had brought her
pain. To her dismay she now saw clearly that it was that thought-that
fear-that had been gnawing away at her all evening: She might never see
him again! The realization left her evep more distressed, and a little
frightened. She remembered the silly thing that had flitted through her
head earlier. A rude, foolish boy like that-her future husband, indeed!
How preposterous! And yet....

Alalkomeneus had finished his meal and was lying upon the table with his
eyes closed and his hands tucked behind his head; he seemed to be
asleep. Metis rose and gathered up the remaining food, even though she
had eaten very little, and carried it back to the atrium. When she
returned, she went to one of the many oak chests that lined the walls of
the chamber and removed a blanket. Leaving it folded, she placed it on
the floor beside her bed, where it would form a thick mat on which the
mortal could sleep. When she was satisfied with its arrangement, she
lifted the man gently and deposited him on his new bed, still sleeping.

Now she sat down again. She no longer felt the least bit weary, and was
sure she would only toss restlessly if she tried to sleep. Soon she
noticed that she was tapping one foot against the floor in nervous
agitation, a habit she found annoying in others but particularly
distasteful in herself. For years she had prided herself on possessing a
nearly unflappable nature. Here was one more illustration of how
thoroughly that boy had unsettled her.

She rose, pressing her lips together tightly. From one of the many wall
pegs she took down a cloak and draped it about her shoulders, then
hurriedly left the apartment. The only way to deal with her nervous
energy was to walk, and she had no intention of pacing about her own
rooms.

A cool breeze was blowing. At first she walked briskly, but then she
realized that the route she had chosen was taking her back along the way
she had gone earlier this evening, and she slowed her pace while she
considered if she really wanted to revisit those places tonight. Surely
she did not intend to search for Zeus, even though she was reasonably
certain where he had taken refuge. More than an hour had passed since
she had seen him dart past Lady Rhea and disappear. By now he should
have found a way to leave Mount Othrys, if Helios and the others had not
discovered him.

Well, what did it matter? She had come out for a walk and might as well
continue in that direction. If the boy had been captured, she might leam
the details.

Already the Palace of Mnemosyne was dimly visible ahead of her in the
moonlight, a dark, looming structure with only a few lights visible
inside. The path lay deserted, with no sign of the fugitive or those who
sought him. If anything, the night seemed more quiet than usual for this
hour.

Helios and his friends must have given up, she thought as she continued
walking past the Palace of Mnemosyne. Farther on she reached a point
from which she could look ahead and see the Palace of Hyperion in the
distance. No one was visible anywhere along the stone-covered walk, nor
were there any signs of unusual activity. If Helios had succeeded in
capturing the boy, he would probably have dragged him back there, to his
father's home . . . or-she turned suddenly and looked up, toward the
highest point of the mountain-to the Hall of the Titans, to be tried and
punished. Above her, beyond the groves of trees, she could barely
discern the outline of the great, many-columned pavilion where the
Titans met in council to pass judgment upon the affairs of the gods. She
sighed softly, relieved to see that none of the hall's great lamps had
been lit. No, her intuition was undoubtedly right. Zeus had not been
captured. He was free, probably flying home at this very moment.

As she was about to turn back, she noticed someone coming toward her
from beyond the Palace of Hyperion. The figure moved furtively, hugging
the shadows beside the walkway, and Metis instinctively stepped out of
sight around the curve in the path. Peeking out through the trees from
her new position, she continued to watch as the female figure drew
closer; then she retreated still farther to the far side of the Palace
of Mnemosyne and concealed herself there. Still the other goddess
advanced, walking briskly and casting numerous glances behind her as she
came into sight again.

The goddess left the walkway and crossed quickly toward the entrance to
the Palace of Mnemosyne. She went directly to the great door and knocked
gently-so gently that the nearby Okeanid could barely hear the sound.
When there was no immediate answer, she knocked a second time, more
insistently. As she waited, the goddess turned again and again to look
back in the direction from which she had come, as if she feared someone
might have followed her. At last the door opened and the Muse Melpomene
stood in the opening, holding a torch.

The bright glare of the torch verified what Metis had already guessed-it
was Rhea. The Titaness spoke a few words to the Muse, stepped quickly
inside, and helped push the heavy door closed.

Now Metis's curiosity was indeed stirred. She could imagine but a single
reason that the great goddess would return here tonight-Zeus. She was
certain the Titaness had indeed seen the boy conceal himself in or near
this palace; from where she had stood, Rhea would have had an
unobstructed view of the entire side of the building, and probably saw
him climb through one of the ground-floor windows.

For some minutes the Okeanid remained hidden, debating with herself. She
very much wanted to know what was taking place within the dark building,
but could not simply go to the door and request entry. Even if she
presented herself with an excellent pretense for admission, she might be
conducted to some other area of the palace, away from Rhea and Zeus- who
probably was no longer there anyway.

Metis was quite familiar with the huge limestone structure. For many
years she had been a frequent guest of the Muses, who dwelt there with
the Titaness Mnemosyne. At last her curiosity conquered her sense of
propriety and she went directly to the entrance and tried to push open
the door. Normally the outer doors were seldom locked on Mount Othrys,
but Rhea must have imposed on Melpomene to secure it behind them. Now
Metis ran to the side of the building and edged along the outer wall.
Most of the windows were tall and broad, but set high up so that she
could not easily see in, or be seen. Finally, near the rear of the
palace, she heard the distant hum of voices.

Wishing she were differently dressed, she pulled up her peplos and
re-belted it in a way that gave her legs greater freedom. Then she
scaled the lower wall, pulled herself through the window, and slid into
a dark room. Through an open doorway she could see light. As she crept
forward, the sound of voices grew louder, and at last she reached a
position from which she could hear quite well, though she could not look
into the neighboring room without risking discovery. A quick glance
showed her Euterpe and Terpsichore, but from the flurry of voices she
judged that most, if not all, of the Muses were gathered there.

"But why must she question him in private?" one voice demanded. "After
all, we offered him shelter of our own free will, when we might have
turned him out and let Helios and the others have him. We've treated him
as a friend. Why should we have to stand out here, wondering-in our own
home? It's all quite rude, if you ask me."

Another goddess laughed. Metis recognized the voice as Euterpe's. "Can't
you just imagine such a scene? All of us crowding around, inserting our
own questions as well. Lady Rhea's clearly too intelligent to expose
herself to such a commotion."

A third voice, probably that of Thalia, began to sing. "When many voices
join in chorus-" It must have been a familiar verse; the sisters broke
into appreciative laughter, and Metis was unable to hear the rest of it.

"He's a handsome youth," Melpomene said, "and whatever difficulty he may
have gotten into, I can't believe it's all that terrible-or completely
his fault. He was perfectly behaved here, with us?"

"Yes," Erato said, "with all of us! Even the rudest youth might behave
himself when surrounded by nine maidens at once."

"But that's unfair to him," another insisted, and then Metis was unable
to follow the torrent of elaboration and disagreement that followed.

Metis stood with her back to the wall near the doorway. Before long a
sudden silence overcame the Muses and she heard a door close. She wanted
to look into the room, but dared not.

"Thank you all," someone said. Metis was almost certain it was Rhea.
"I'm now satisfied that this is indeed the son of my friend Amaltheia,
whom I knew quite well many years ago. I knew his mother and his father
both, and I feel that I know him, too. I've questioned him at length and
I'm satisfied with his answers. I'm certain he didn't intend to harm
Asterie or anyone else."

Metis could restrain herself no longer. She leaned outward and glanced
toward the speaker, who stood with her back toward a door on the
opposite side of the room and with Zeus beside her. The Muses were
crowded close around them. Metis had intended to look quickly, then
conceal herself, but her eyes were drawn back to the boy and remained on
him far longer than was prudent. He was standing there, grinning at the
maidens who fluttered about him and looking like the most foolish of
foolish youths; but as she watched she began to sense something
else-something very different. She had glimpsed it earlier today, a
fleeting impression, nothing more. Now she saw it clearly for a
moment-in his eyes, perhaps, or in the way he held his head and
shoulders-and then it was gone. But in that instant she recognized what
it was, and a chill ran through her. She knew, too, who Zeus was and why
Rhea had come here tonight looking for him.

Metis drew away from the doorway and pressed her back to the stone wall.
She had been in the presence of greatness before-in her childhood, while
she had lived on Mount Olympos. But what she had seen just now in that
raw, awkward boy was more than greatness. It was something . . .
grander, vaster . . . magnificent!

Rhea was still speaking. "I'm very glad I chanced by earlier this
evening and saw him. I'm quite fond of his mother and would gladly do
her a good turn by helping her son. In her name, I thank all of you for
aiding him. Zeus, you must remember these maidens and what they've done
for you tonight. If it's ever in your power to repay them, you must do
so."

"We're being very inconsiderate, sisters," one of the Muses announced.
"Please, Lady Rhea, you both must come and sit with us. We'll bring
refreshments and-"

"In a moment, perhaps," the Titaness said. "There's one more thing I
must first attend to. Zeus is still in danger. He's made many powerful
enemies tonight-enemies who may still be searching for him, though I
didn't see them on my way here. We must do what we can to insure his
safety while he remains among the Titans, and then I'll gladly join you
in a cup of nectar before I go. Would one of you be kind enough to carry
a message for me tonight-to one of the other palaces here on Mount
Othrys?"

"I'll go," a soft voice answered.

"Thank you, Ourania. Please seek out Metis, the Okeanid, who's probably
in her apartment in the palace of her father, and bring her here. While
we wait for the two of you to return, this youth and I will enjoy the
hospitality of your sisters."

In the next room, Metis listened in astonishment-and inexplicable joy.
Why would Lady Rhea send for her? It couldn't be merely because she
might have guessed where Zeus had hidden himself while escaping Helios
and the other gods. If she had intended to betray him, she would have
done so then, not after everyone had given up looking for him. The
Titaness had to have some other reason.

Nearly stumbling in her anxiousness, the Okeanid hurried back to the
window through which she had entered the Palace of Mnemosyne and
awkwardly lowered herself to the ground outside. She was determined to
reach her home ahead of Rhea's messenger.

Twelve

Metis walked quickly, fighting down the urge to run as a curve in the
path concealed her from view from the palace she had just departed.
Untoward haste might call attention to her, and she certainly did not
want Rhea's messenger to find her out of breath.

She was pleased-almost irrationally pleased-that Rhea was summoning her.
But what could the Titaness want? She had spoken of Zeus's safety, but
certainly there were many others on Mount Othrys who could more
effectively assure the youth's welfare. Rhea had to have some other
purpose. What that might be, though, Metis could not guess, and so she
pushed the question out of her mind; after all, she would learn soon
enough from Rhea herself.

It was growing late now, and she reached her destination without
encountering anyone. Once inside the palace of her father, she proceeded
more cautiously, to avoid being seen. She crossed the broad atrium and
went quickly toward the rear of the building, where she ascended one of
the smaller, less frequented staircases. Were she discovered, she could
reasonably claim to be returning from some other, unrelated outing; but
she preferred to conserve her lies for occasions when less direct
subterfuges would not suffice.

Luck was with her and she regained her apartment without being observed.
Once inside, she immediately began lighting lamps, to give a more
convincing appearance of occupancy. As she moved from table to table
around the large entrance hall, she glimpsed her image in a golden bowl.
She stopped abruptly and looked a second time, then rushed to her
bedroom. There she lit still more lamps.

She glanced at Alalkomeneus; he was still sleeping soundly, which
pleased her. He tended at times to be presumptuous in their
relationship, and she did not want to have to explain her activities to
him. A large mirror sat upon one of the tables. She positioned a number
of small oil lamps near the polished bronze so that they cast a strong
if uneven light upon her face, then bent forward to examine her
reflection. Quickly she began to arrange her hair, which hung in wild
ringlets all about her face.

She leaned closer now to better see her face, then drew back in disgust.
After her long day of travel, she had not had time to bathe. How could
she forget such a thing? She stood up and almost ripped off her
clothing, then rushed to another room. There she poured a bowl of water,
washed her face and neck, arms and hands. Certainly she would have
preferred the luxury of a full bath, but this would have to do for the
moment. She was amazed that Ourania was not already knocking at the
door.

Back in her bedroom, she began to search through the great oaken chests
that held her wardrobe, pulling out first one peplos, then another, only
to toss them aside and continue her now frantic search in a neighboring
chest. Finally she located a garment that might do. She wrapped it about
herself, pulled and tucked the material, fastened a wide golden girdle
about her waist, then stood far enough back from her mirror that she
could judge its overall appearance. It was long and delicate, a pink
affair that actually looked quite fetching on her.

A soft rapping sounded at the outer door. Metis scrutinized herself once
more, made a final small adjustment of her peplos, brushed a curl to one
side, then hurried out to greet her caller.

She listened attentively as Ourania relayed her message, then did her
best to feign surprise. "Why, of course I'll come. I was just wishing I
had somewhere interesting to go tonight or someone to talk with. I was
about to see if any of my sisters wanted company. Let me get a cloak."

She left the Muse waiting near the doorway while she returned to her
bedroom and rummaged hectically for an appropriate garment. She found a
dark mantle, draped it about her shoulders, then rejoined her visitor.
They left the apartment together, traveling more leisurely than Metis
would have liked.

When they reached their destination, the Muse led her through a number
of dark rooms until at last they reached a fairsized chamber near the
rear of the building-the same one into which Metis had peeked a short
time earlier. By now the Titaness Mnemosyne had joined the assemblage.
Nectar and ambrosia had been distributed, and everyone seemed to be
involved in pleasant conversation. Metis greeted each of them.

When she finished, Rhea rose to speak to her. "Thank you for coming, my
dear. As I've already explained to the others here, I must speak
privately with you. Will you accompany me? What I have to say will take
only a few moments, and then we can rejoin our friends. They understand
the odd circumstances involved, and I'm sure they'll take no offense."
The Titaness started toward an adjoining room, motioning Metis and Zeus
ahead of her.

Rhea closed the door behind them, then moved beside Zeus, so that she
and the boy stood close together across from Metis.

"Metis, daughter of my brother Okeanos and my sister Tethys, what I am
about to tell you could not be said in front of the others." A small,
proud smile tugged at her mouth and her eyes looked suddenly moist. "I
wish to introduce to you someone. This is Zeus-my son. This is the child
I kept from Kronos, the boy who is destined to become King of the Gods!"
Rhea's voice broke with emotion as she spoke, and her face radiated a
fierce pride.

Even though Metis had guessed the identity of the boy before rushing
back to her apartment, something close to awe crept through her at
Rhea's words.

"Long ago," the Titaness continued, "at the time of his birth, I was
forced to hide him away, that his evil father might not discover him and
do with him as he had done with my other children-all to avoid the
fulfillment of a vile prophecy. Do you know it?"

"The prophecy of Ouranos?"

"Yes, uttered when Kronos struck down his own father. Child, beware thy
child. As you have overthrown your father, so shall you be overthrown!
All the long years of our marriage, those words haunted him, and as each
of my children was bom, he took it from me, to-" She passed a hand
across her face, as if to clear away the too-vivid memories.

"But I deceived him and hid the boy away," Rhea continued. "From that
day until this I've seen my son but twice, when I surrendered to my
terrible longings and went secretly to watch him at his play. It was a
dangerous and foolish thing to do, but those secret observations
nourished me through all these long years. And now, at last, he's here.
Look at him, Metis! Look how tall and straight he's grown-how handsome
and fine he is. Has he not grown into the most magnificent of gods?" As
she spoke, the Titaness's hands moved again and again to touch the boy,
caressing his shoulders and arms, his face and chest.

Metis drew herself up and bowed toward the youth. Then she said softly,
"We've already met, my lady."

Rhea looked at Zeus for confirmation. "But how?" she demanded. "Where?"

Metis briefly related the details of their encounter on Mount Pelion.

When she had finished, Rhea said, "So, in a sense at least, you're
responsible for bringing him here. Then it's all the more fitting that I
call upon you tonight."

"How do you mean, my lady?"

The Titaness ignored her question. "Until this day he believed himself
the son of the goddess Amaltheia, who was his wet nurse. In my absence
she cared for him as if he were her own son. Oh, Metis," she exclaimed
suddenly, "you can't possibly imagine how I've longed for this day, when
at last I could have him beside me-when I could look upon him at length,
and kiss and caress him, and listen to the sweet song of his wonderful
voice! You can't imagine, either, how frightened I am. He's in great
danger here. That he is Kronos's son, only the three of us may know in
safety. The time isn't right yet. Were Kronos to learn of him-even now,
though he's almost fully grown-all that I've suffered for might yet be
undone."

"I understand, Lady Rhea. Your secret is certainly safe with me," Metis
assured her.

"I do so wish I could keep him with me, but I must be strong-a little
longer. I must not risk disaster merely to satisfy myself. I may not
take him home with me, as I so dearly wish to do. If I were to openly
concern myself with him, someone might guess the truth, and I dare not
risk that. Yet I'd prefer not to send him away again so soon, either.
That's why I've sent for you. Will you take him to the house of your
father and watch over him there, for me? Then I could come secretly,
without much fear of detection, and visit with him- a few times, at
least, before he must leave. If you became his protectress, no one would
have reason to associate him with me. Will you do this for me, Metis?"

The Titaness's usual haughty manner had vanished completely, and she
seemed to be pleading with the Okeanid. Metis had not anticipated such a
request and hesitated before answering.

"It would present problems, I know," Rhea continued. "He's made enemies
here. It would be necessary to calm Helios and the others. I've already
explained to Mnemosyne and the Muses that I know the boy's mother, but I
dare not call attention to myself by defending him too vigorously. You'd
have to take the lead. If you agree, I can tell them that I sent for you
because I thought you knew Amaltheia even better than I, and might be
particularly concerned about the welfare of her son. Once that's
established-with you as Zeus's protectress and I only as a helpful
friend, someone ready to stand witness to Amaltheia's good character and
that of her son, but nothing more-we should be able to intercede
successfully on his behalf. Oh," she cried suddenly, pressing her eyes
tightly closed, "I wish I were certain I'm doing the right thing. I need
time to think-to remember. ..."

Metis stepped forward and laid a comforting hand upon the Titaness's
arm. "I'll be pleased to assist you in any way I can," she said firmly.

Rhea looked up, wiping her eyes. "Thank you, dear. I thought you'd say
that. Your destinies-yours and my son's- are linked somehow, I think . .
. more fully than I really understand. Of all the younger Titans, you
are by far the most intelligent-no, don't pretend modesty, Metis, for
you know it as well as I. Anyone with eyes can see it. Some say you are
wiser than all the other Titans together. You can protect him more
readily than I. I'm too distraught, too haunted by fears."

Metis allowed a small smile to touch her lips. Outwardly she appeared
very calm; inside, though, she was thrilled, filled with a joy that she
chose not to question or attempt to understand.

Rhea turned to look again at her son. It was a loving look, filled with
maternal pride. She touched his thick black curls and ran admiring
fingers along his cheek and shoulder. "I've waited so very long, but his
day grows ever nearer...."

"Zeus," she continued, addressing the youth, "I'll send you off in a few
moments with this kind maiden. There is no one here among the Titans
more suited to watch over and guide you, but you're very young yet,
lacking knowledge of the ways of the gods. You must behave yourself.
There must be no repetition of tonight's escapades. Goddesses are not
taken by force among the great gods. They must be won by charm and
courtesy. They must be courted. Do I make myself clear? The consequences
could be very serious indeed if you don't abide my warning. Metis will
teach you what you need to know, and you must obey her. Will you promise
me that?"

"Yes, Mother," the boy answered, and Rhea kissed him.

They returned to the room where Mnemosyne and the Muses waited. As soon
as it could be tactfully accomplished, though, Metis and Zeus left their
hosts and walked back toward the Palace of Okeanos. On the way Metis
questioned the youth.

"Why did you leave Mount Pelion? You must have departed very soon after
I did."

The youth hesitated, and the expression on his face made her grow
suspicious.

"Did something happen to speed your departure?"

Now the boy looked absolutely guilty. "There was a misunderstanding," he
managed to say at last.

"With whom?" she demanded.

"Cheiron ... and Philyra ... and Dione."

Metis frowned, but asked no more questions.

When they reached her apartment, she gave Zeus a quick tour of her home.
Zeus questioned her concerning the numerous plants that crowded the wide
windowsills and covered much of the nearby floors, wherever sunlight
reached. It was often necessary to step over or around them as they
toured the various rooms. The Okeanid took great pride in her herb
collection and pointed out the more interesting varieties as they came
to them.

At last they reached the chamber that would serve as his bedroom. She
stopped in the doorway, not following him inside. "And here," she
announced, "I'll leave you for the night. You should be able to find
everything you need.... except blankets! I'll get some and bring them to
you."

Zeus had been watching the slender Okeanid with growing interest since
they had been alone together. He stepped close to her as she started to
leave.

"Must you go?" he asked, bestowing upon her one of his most winning
smiles and letting a hand settle against her waist. He stepped still
closer. "Can't we sit together and talk a while longer? There's so much
I want to learn about Mount Othrys, and the Titans, and you...."

Metis started to laugh at his naive lack of subtlety, but when he
touched her, she drew away with a start, an electric shiver shooting
through her. She backed away from him in confusion. He started to follow
her out into the narrow hallway, but by now she had recovered from her
surprise.

"Have you already forgotten your promise to your mother?" she made
herself ask. "You'll behave yourself with me-perfectly-or you'll leave
Mount Othrys tonight!"

Zeus shrugged, then crossed the room and threw himself onto the bed. He
watched through the door as she walked away. What a peculiar creature
she was-quite beautiful, with her dark curls, high cheekbones, and
startling green eyes- but distinctly odd. Everything about her bespoke a
fine, quick intellect beneath her delicate exterior; whenever he was
around her, he had the uncomfortable feeling that she knew exactly what
he was thinking, and disapproved. Her firm refusal neither surprised nor
distressed him; it was exactly what he had expected. In a way, he was
relieved.

When Metis returned a few minutes later, Zeus was already-asleep. She
called to him twice from the doorway, then went to the bed and gently
spread the blanket over him. He was extraordinarily handsome, she
decided as she looked down on him. It would be very easy to fall in love
with such a god. She would have to guard her emotions very carefully
indeed.

She looked back again from the doorway. It was a long, lingering look,
and the sight of the boy made her wonder if she were not already too
late.

Thirteen

Early the next morning, over breakfast, Metis sat Zeus down opposite her
in the atrium of her apartment and interrogated him at length concerning
his activities of the previous day. He was at his charming best-smiling
ruefully and joking about his own ineptitudes, looking regretful at
times and appropriately chastened. She found it very difficult to
maintain a suitably stern demeanor throughout his recital. When at last
she was satisfied that she had learned-or guessed-everything she needed
to know, she warned him not to venture out during her absence, then set
out for the Palace of Koios, where she hoped to begin the rehabilitation
of the youth's reputation.

For some time after her departure, Zeus remained in his chair, leaning
back and contemplating the great chamber in which he found himself. For
the moment, at least, his enforced inactivity was not a hardship. To a
boy who had never known a home more elaborate than a mountain cave, who
until the previous evening had never seen a habitation more
sophisticated than a crude hut, the room constituted a fascinating
panorama. He let his eyes move slowly along the smooth limestone walls,
studying the intricate red and black friezes he found there, which
depicted forest and field, mountain and valley, all in lifelike detail.
When he eventually grew tired of those marvels, he turned his attention
to the ornate furnishings that surrounded him, tables and chairs of
wondrous craftsmanship, fitted in gold and silver, cushioned with plump,
brightly colored pillows.

But Metis's errands kept her away a very long time, and eventually he
rose and stretched, then began to walk about the apartment. He found
Alalkomeneus in Metis's bedroom, where the man was occupied tending her
herbs.

"Good morning," the youth said pleasantly, standing over the tiny
creature. "I didn't realize you were here. What are you doing?"

The man stared coldly up at the god. He seemed to look him over
carefully before answering. "I'm trimming Lady Metis's plants-cutting
off dead leaves and branches, and watering them. It is a service I
perform for her whenever I visit Mount Othrys."

Zeus smiled back despite the man's unfriendly demeanor. "I see. Well,
may I assist you? She has many plants, and-"

"No, thank you, my lord," Alalkomeneus answered, his voice even colder
than before. "Lady Metis never entrusts her herbs to anyone but herself
and me." And then the mortal turned away and busied himself again, as if
Zeus were no longer present.

The boy hesitated, puzzled by the man's attitude. He had never before
seen a creature such as this-mortal, like an animal, but shaped like a
miniature god. He was quite curious about it, but if this one was a
valid representation of the race of men, he decided, it might be just as
well not to encounter any others. Finally he returned to the atrium. The
broad windows attracted him, and he picked his way through Metis's herbs
to stand beside the opening.

The vista was even more impressive in the full light of the day than it
had been the night before. From his vantage point he could look up
toward the peak of the mountain and the great Hall of the Titans, with
its enormous marble columns. To his left and right he could see many of
the other palaces and lesser buildings of the Titans and other gods, and
he found himself following in fascination the numerous pathways that
crisscrossed the mountaintop to connect the massive structures. They
stretched across wide fields of flowers, through thick forests and
parklike groves of lofty cypress, birch, fir, and oak trees, which rose
high above the heads of even the tallest gods. Along those paths
strolled an astonishing number of deities-more divinity than he had met
in his entire life! In the sparkling morning light, they seemed
remarkably graceful and energetic as they went about their daily
activities. He sighed softly as he watched them. He had never even
imagined that so many desirable females existed, yet here they were-all
congregated in a single place, like a patch of freshly sprouted
ambrosia.

All he had to do was discover the correct way to harvest them. One thing
was certain. His former methods had not worked at home or anywhere else,
and he would have to abandon them. Females were simply too fast and
slippery to be acquired by speed and strength alone. Even his brother
Pan, who claimed success in catching nymphs that way, admitted that his
failures outnumbered his successes. But if violence was not the answer,
what was?

Lady Rhea-he found it difficult to think of her as his mother-had spoken
of charm and courtesy. Goddesses must be "courted," she had said. He had
only the vaguest idea what that meant, but suspected that it must be
somewhat similar to what he had first attempted with Dione, then again
with Asterie and Selene-before he lost control of himself and tried to
grab them. Judging from the early reactions of each of those goddesses,
he suspected he might even have a talent for it. They certainly had
seemed very friendly and pleased with his company. He had actually
succeeded quite well, and in a very brief time, in lulling them into a
false sense of security-and all he had done was smile, talk a little,
and act as if he were interested in all the things they told him.
Perhaps if he had only bided his time and been very
patient-extraordinarily patient, expending a whole evening or perhaps
even two or three evenings in the endeavor-their resistance would have
slowly weakened until eventually . . .

Yes, he thought. It was certainly worth a try. Violence clearly did not
work, but perhaps such treachery might.

And so Zeus passed his first morning on Mount Othrys. Occasionally he
left the window to stroll about the apartment, studying the many
intriguing things he found there, but always he returned to stare out
upon the amazing world of the Titans.

It was afternoon when Metis returned. He went to meet her at the door
and followed her back into the room. She threw herself down in a chair
and grinned up at him.

"Well?" the boy asked, pulling up a second chair and sitting across from
her. "Did you have any success?"

"My lord Zeus," she said slowly, "any other god, having committing the
offenses you have committed, would almost certainly find himself
banished from Mount Othrys forever; more likely, he'd have a band of
pursuers hot on his heels, intent upon none too gently bringing him back
to face the justice of the Titans. But you, it seems, are not such a
god. I'm beginning to suspect that you're impervious to misfortune. ..."

"They aren't angry with me anymore? How did you accomplish it?"

"That's more or less correct. But it wasn't I who soothed their wrath."

"Lady Rhea? Did she have to intercede? I had hoped-"

Metis shook her head. "No, my lord. You were represented by a greater
champion than either of us-yourself!''

"Me? I don't understand."

"I went first to visit Asterie. She was still quite upset and unwilling
to listen, but as I explained that you were a newcomer among us, that
you had been raised in the wild hills of a distant island, far from
divine society, she began to soften toward you. I blamed your
impertinence and impetuosity upon your ignorance, and the more I spoke,
the more sympathetic she became. When I was ready to leave her and go to
speak with her parents on your behalf, she insisted on coming with me.
My lord, she became more your defender than I! And since no real harm
had been done, both Koios and Phoibe soon surrendered to the pleading of
their daughter.''

"Then she and her family have all forgiven me? I have nothing to fear
from them?"

Metis nodded. "Then I went to the Palace of Hyperion and spoke with
Selene. I expected her to be a good deal more difficult to win over than
Asterie, but I was wrong. She wanted to forgive you-even before I
arrived-but her pride made that impossible. As soon as I supplied the
justifications she required, she leaped to your defense even more
strongly than Asterie. Hyperion, her father, was adamantly against you,
though, and we only swayed him when I told him that I would be
personally responsible for your conduct while you remained among us."

Zeus stared at her in open admiration. "I see that my mother judged you
correctly."

She bowed her head slightly in his direction in acknowledgment of the
compliment. "What I said before is true, though. This success isn't
mine, but yours. Those goddesses wanted to forgive you. I only helped
them find a way to do it. It seems you have a natural talent for
eliciting the sympathy of maidens. Even Helios couldn't very well
continue to openly condemn you after both Asterie and Selene took up
your cause, but he bears you no good will. Beware of him. At the first
opportunity, he'll harm you in any way he can."

She leaned back in her chair. "It was quite funny, actually, to see him
squirm before his father and sister. He wants nothing more than to get
his hands on you, but now they've denied him a reason to do so."

"Better one enemy than many," Zeus commented.

"I spoke, too," she continued, "with Epimetheus, the god who almost
attacked you as you were entering Asterie's home. He's smitten with
Asterie, as you probably know or have gathered, and he was only a tinge
less ready than Helios to put his sword through you. I think I've
managed to mollify him as well-at least concerning you-but it would be
wisest for you to avoid him. He's still determined to revenge himself
upon Helios, Pallas, and Perses, though. Do you know about that
situation?"

Zeus shook his head, then listened with interest as she explained. "This
morning," she concluded, "Prometheus enlisted the aid of Atlas, their
eldest brother, and Atlas made Epimetheus promise to avoid any
confrontation until he's recovered from his last encounter with those
three."

"Everything Helios told me was a lie," Zeus said, looking shocked.

"There's something peculiar about all that-Helios sending you to Asterie
as a messenger, I mean. I haven't sorted it all out yet, but it just
doesn't ring true.... There will be time to think about that later. For
the moment it's enough that your troubles have been successfully
resolved."

"Thank you, Metis," the boy said. "And you accomplished it all without
involving my mother. It's amazing."

"No one knows she has anything to do with you, except Mnemosyne and the
Muses. They aren't likely to say much about it."

Later in the afternoon, Rhea arrived to visit her son. Metis left them
together in the atrium while she went to attend to her own affairs,
which she had been forced to neglect all morning. The Titaness remained
with Zeus until shortly before dark.

After Rhea's departure, the inhabitants of the apartment ate a quiet
supper. When the meal was completed, Zeus announced that he was tired
and left to go to his room. Metis did not look in on him until shortly
before she was ready to retire.

Finding the room empty, she immediately searched the other rooms of the
apartment, without success. Finally, back in the atrium, she paused to
think. He had left the apartment-sneaked out of it, probably just after
supper. She had given her word that Zeus would cause no more trouble on
Mount Othrys, and she felt compelled to do whatever she could to uphold
that pledge. With a sigh the Okeanid went to her room, found a cloak,
and bid Alalkomeneus a quick good night.

First she went to the Palace of Koios, where she was reassured to learn
that neither Asterie nor anyone else there had seen the youth. Then she
continued on to the Palace of Mnemosyne, where she found Thalia.

"Oh, yes," the Muse told her cheerfully. "He was here some time ago.
What a charming boy he is. We sat about and chatted for quite a while.
We all like him a great deal-particularly Mnemosyne, I think. I expect
he'll be back to see us quite often."

Metis excused herself and hurried on. En route to the Palace of
Hyperion, two figures caught her attention. They stood in the doorway of
the home of the Titaness Themis, which was a modest two-story building
set back from the path. Metis stepped to the side of the walkway to
better conceal herself, then crept closer.

As she drew near them she recognized the tall, bearded god with aquiline
features as Iapetos, the father of Prometheus and Epimetheus. He stood
very close to Themis, who many years before had been his wife. Their
marriage had been without issue, and after consulting an oracle Iapetos
took to wife instead the Okeanid Klymene, Metis's sister. It was well
known among the Titans, however, that his passion for Themis had not
ended with the dissolution of their marriage.

"But why may I not enter tonight?" the god demanded. He stood just
outside the entrance. "Is tonight somehow different from last night, or
last week?"

"Perhaps it is," the tawny-haired goddess answered curtly.

"You're smiling! I don't think this is at all amusing," Iapetos said,
starting to grow angry.

She was shaking her head. "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't mean fo be cruel to
you, or rude, but please go. I can't see you tonight-or any other night.
Everything's changed now."

"Changed? What has changed? I still love you, and you still love me. I
know you do. Just the night before last-"

"No, no!" the goddess insisted. "Go back to your wife. I've been weak,
that's all. Weak and lonely. But that's over with now. There can be
nothing more between us. Go back to Klymene and forget me."

"This makes no sense." Iapetos's voice and manner had become highly
agitated. "You can't just send me away like this, without an
explanation."

"I can-and I must! I can't talk any longer. Good-bye!" She stepped
quickly forward, kissed him on the lips, then retreated inside, closing
the door. Iapetos stood staring at the cold wooden surface for nearly a
full minute, then turned slowly and walked away.

Metis was troubled by what she had seen and heard, but not surprised.
She knew Klymene loved her husband dearly, and that his smoldering
passion for Themis was a source of great sadness to her. At the same
time, Metis realized that she was not completely unsympathetic toward
Iapetos. After all, he had not chosen to love two goddesses at the same
time. It had simply happened to him.

Finally she reached the Palace of Hyperion. Her tactful inquiries
brought forth Selene.

"You're looking for Zeus?" the maiden asked. "I'm afraid he's gone now.
Oh, Metis, you were so right-he really is a very nice young god. I'm so
glad you helped straighten everything out for him, so that he could stay
here on Mount Othrys. We had a very pleasant-and perfectly proper-
conversation. I was very sorry to have to leave him. My mother called me
away and-"

Metis continued her search. She was pleased to find that Zeus had
managed-at least thus far-to deport himself in an acceptable fashion,
but she could not help feeling a bit annoyed, too. Though she was
reluctant to admit it, she realized she would far rather have had him
back in her apartment, talking to her instead of all these other
goddesses. Finally she abandoned her search and started back home.

She was sunk in her own unhappy thoughts when once more she drew near
the home of Themis. To her surprise she saw that again two figures stood
at the entrance. Probably, she decided, Iapetos had returned to plead
his cause further. Nevertheless, she approached stealthily.

As she drew nearer, she found herself observing Themis and-Zeus!

"Must you go now?" the low voice of the goddess asked, sounding
anguished.

"I'm afraid I must," the boy answered. "I've already been gone too long.
Others may be worried about me."

"But you'll come again-tomorrow? Earlier, so you won't have to leave so
soon?"

"If you like. I'll try."

As Metis watched, the goddess leaned toward him. In the moonlight the
Okeanid could clearly see her face. Eyes closed, she stretched her head
up and kissed him on the lips- a long, lingering kiss. Her arms
encircled him and seemed reluctant to let him go. At last Zeus stepped
away, waved, and strode lightly out to the path and back toward the
Palace of Okeanos.

Metis waited until Themis closed the door behind her, then caught up
with the boy. "In the future," she said emotionlessly, "I'd appreciate
it if you'd tell me when you're going out. I'm supposed to be
responsible for you, you do recall?"

"Oh, I didn't see you there, Metis. I'm sorry. Have you been looking for
me?"

"That should be obvious."

He hung his head a little and gave her his sheepish grin. "I'm sorry if
I worried you. But I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to prove that I
can behave properly without someone watching over me the entire time."

"I see," Metis said flatly, unconvinced.

Behind them, behind the closed door of the building the youth had just
left, the Titaness Themis leaned back her head, closed her eyes, and
moved slowly about a large room, as if dancing. Her face beamed.

"At last!" she cried softly. "What was it the oracle promised? A new
love-far greater than I've ever known. I've waited.... oh, I've waited
so very long, but now he's come. I knew it the instant I saw him. He is
the one-I know he is-my promised love!"

Hugging herself, she twirled across the floor.

Fourteen

And so was set the pattern of the days that followed. Each morning,
after breakfast, Zeus sallied forth from the apartment of the Okeanid to
mingle with the inhabitants of Mount Othrys. Each evening, at the
insistence of Rhea, he returned for supper and spent an hour or two
visiting with his mother before venturing out again. Metis could not be
certain how late he returned at night, for she almost always fell asleep
while waiting for him.

Gradually she became aware of a subtle change in him. When they sat
together about her apartment, he seemed more friendly, more relaxed; he
no longer gave the impression that he was anxiously awaiting the moment
when he would be allowed to go out. This new, less driven Zeus pleased
her very much, until she thought more deeply on the subject; and then
her maiden's face flushed at the realization of what his change of
character actually implied-and what it told her about the virtue of her
sister goddesses of Mount Othrys.

Occasionally, by chance, she caught glimpses of him during the day as he
strolled along the mountain paths with one lovely young goddess or
another, or as he entered or departed one of the great palaces of Mount
Othrys, usually with a smiling maiden nearby to greet him or bid him
adieu. More often, though, word of his activities reached her in the
form of rumors, for he was much spoken of among all the gods. His good
looks, rustic charm, and good manners-now much in evidence-had quickly
made him a favorite among the distaff members of the divine community,
who showered him with invitations to their homes. Many of these females,
Metis noted archly, seemed to have no compunction about competing openly
for his attention. The male gods viewed him in a good deal less
favorable light, with more than a little grumbling, and Metis came to
the conclusion that Helios was not the only one of them who would be
pleased to see Zeus's visit draw to an early close.

A week after the youth's arrival, Metis went to the Palace of Iapetos to
visit Klymene. She often visited her sister and greatly enjoyed the time
they spent together chatting about their mutual concerns and exchanging
news concerning their parents and numerous brothers and sisters. Today,
though, instead of going directly to Klymene's rooms, she went first to
find Prometheus, whom she had not seen in many days.

She found him in his apartment with his brother. Epimetheus looked much
better than when she had last seen him; his wounds were healing nicely
and, she guessed, he would soon be completely recovered.

"Well, you two certainly are glum today," the goddess said at last, when
her efforts to engage them in conversation elicited brief, lukewarm
responses at first and then strained silence. "I only stopped by to see
how you both have been. If you're not going to say something pleasant to
make all my effort worthwhile, I'll be on my way."

"Mistress," Alalkomeneus said from his perch on her shoulder as she
started to leave, "if you're going on to see Lady Klymene, may I stay
here with Lord Prometheus and Lord Epimetheus until you're ready to go
home?"

"Certainly, Alalkomeneus, if that's what you'd prefer. Why you'd rather
stay among these dull gods, though, I can't guess."

"In the past Lord Prometheus has proven himself one of my most
knowledgeable instructors. It's been too long since I availed myself of
his wisdom. There are a couple of woodworking techniques that I would
much like to see demonstrated."

Metis looked at Prometheus. "Do you mind if he stays?"

The Titan shook his head. "He may do as he likes."

"Fine. I'll come back for you before I leave." As she spoke she lifted
the mortal down from her shoulder and set him upon the floor near the
Titans.

When she had left, Alalkomeneus addressed Prometheus. "My lord, I have
noticed that you haven't come to visit Lady Metis recently. May I ask
why not?"

Prometheus, who was nearly as tolerant of the man as Metis was, drew
back a little at the impertinence of his question. Frowning slightly, he
said, "I think you overstep yourself, mortal. Such a question would be
presumptuous from one god to another.''

"Does it then have nothing to do with the presence of the young god Zeus
in her apartment?" the man persisted.

Prometheus looked away, not answering.

Epimetheus grinned at his brother. "The man sees through you very
easily. I'd wondered why you've been moping about, but hadn't figured it
out. That must be it. You're jealous of that boy."

Prometheus grimaced at him. "I'll thank you to keep your opinions to
yourself.''

"Pardon, my lord," Alalkomeneus went on, "but if my lord Epimetheus is
correct, you may profit more from heeding his observation than by being
cross with him."

Prometheus glared at the mortal. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my lord, that jealousy is not an unwarranted emotion in this
situation. I think you care about my mistress. Unless you're willing to
abandon her to this new god, it might be well for you to take a more
active interest in her right now.''

"He thinks you care about her," Epimetheus said, grinning at his
brother. "You don't care about her-you're madly in love with her!" He
turned toward Alalkomeneus. "He's been in love with her since they were
children."

Pulling a chair from the wall and positioning it near their visitor,
Prometheus slumped into the seat. He seemed to have resigned himself to
whatever embarrassment the two intended to heap upon him.

"I know that I exceed the bounds of propriety by saying such things so
openly, my lord," Alalkomeneus continued, "but there are times when
forthrightness is essential. I would rather risk offending you than see
Lady Metis suffer.''

"Please say clearly what you mean."

"I've guessed for many years that you love Lady Metis. Unless you
overcome your diffidence, however, and act upon that love, I fear you'll
lose her forever."

"Then she is in love with the boy," Prometheus muttered, a look of
anguish descending upon his face. "I feared as much when I saw them
together, but...."

"Tell me, Lord Prometheus, have you ever told her you love her? If you
don't tell her, she may not be sure."

Prometheus shrugged. "She knows how I feel."

"Perhaps, my lord, but telling her often could not hurt matters. There
is still time. I'm not certain that she is completely in love with the
stranger yet, though certainly she is drawn toward him. I can see that
clearly, in her wistful, distracted manner, and in other things too. But
if you apply yourself in time, it's possible that you can sway her and
prevent their love from becoming mutual. Before long he, too, will
realize how she feels, and then-"

"He doesn't love her?" Prometheus demanded, looking up with renewed
interest.

"No more than he loves all the other maidens of Mount Othrys-perhaps
even less, since he pays less attention to her than to them."

Just then a sound from outside the room drew their attention. Prometheus
rose and moved quickly to the opening. He reached out, pulling a smaller
figure through the doorway and into the room. "What are you doing out
there, Menoitios? It isn't nice to eavesdrop on your elders."

The slender youth brushed his long dark hair from his face and smirked
at them. "You don't have to worry, brother," he told Prometheus. "I
won't tell anyone you're in love. But what terrible taste you
have-Metis!" He made a sound indicative of distaste. "But I suppose it
serves you both right."

"I'll thank you to mind your own affairs, Menoitios. If you insist on
minding mine, I'll see to it you find the result very uncomfortable
indeed. Now leave us. My patience is already severely strained."

The youth turned and shot an ugly look, filled with malevolence, at
Alalkomeneus. An unpleasant smile touched his lips. "I'll go, brother.
But let me take the mortal creature with me. Metis killed one of my
animals-a lovely saber-tooth-and owes me a replacement."

Prometheus set both hands on his youngest brother's shoulders and
forcibly escorted the boy all the way to the outer corridor, then
returned to continue his conversation with Alalkomeneus.

Sometime later Metis returned for the mortal. Prometheus greeted her
more pleasantly this time, but despite his smile she thought he looked
uncomfortable.

"Before you go, may I speak with you-privately?" he asked.

"Certainly," she answered, wondering what he might want to talk about.
He seemed oddly nervous.

While Alalkomeneus remained with Epimetheus, she followed the older
Titan out of the apartment and down the stairs to a high-walled court at
the rear of the palace. Alone among the flowers and trees, they walked
in silence for some time before he worked up the courage to begin.

"I keep hearing about that boy Zeus," he said, starting awkwardly. "He
seems to be quite popular among many of the goddesses."

Metis nodded. "Yes. So I've heard."

"How.... how do you get along with him?"

"Well enough, I suppose. I don't believe I explained to you before, when
you first met him, that I know his mother quite-well. She's a wonderful
goddess, and I'm pleased to do whatever I can for her son.''

He hesitated. "But do you really think it... wise? After all, you know
the... problems... that arose when he first arrived here."

"Oh, I'm sure I'm quite safe. There's no such danger, if that's what you
mean."

"Well, it isn't only that. I mean, the two of you there, alone in your
apartment every night ..."

She drew back from him a little, stiffening. "Exactly what do you mean?"

"I just wondered if it was really a good idea to have him stay with you.
After all, all of Othrys is talking about the boy. There seem to be
foolish maidens around him all the time, they say. Why, they say that
even older goddesses are not immune to his charm. Even Mnemosyne-"

"Please, Prometheus! I thought better of you than this. Do you set your
trust in rumors, which more often than not are only excuses for
conversation? I think perhaps we'd better find some other topic to
discuss. This one borders on the offensive."

"Oh, Metis," he said, turning suddenly toward her and taking her hands
in his. "I'm saying this all wrong. I find it very hard to speak of...
certain things. What I want to say, though, really doesn't have anything
to do with Zeus, except that I'm . . ."

She looked up at him, staring directly into his face as she waited for
him to continue.

"Metis, I thought you knew how I felt about you. We've known each other
a very long time, and yet I realize now that I've never actually told
you how I feel."

"I thought I knew, too." She squeezed his hands in return, as if to give
him the added strength he needed to continue.

"Metis," he cried, "I'm a fool at such things. I've wanted to tell you
so many times-started to tell you. But always I floundered on the words.
I love you! I've always loved you! Will you marry me?"

"Oh, Prometheus," she said saddly, turning, away and walking off a few
steps. She stood very still, thintang, then turned resolutely and faced
him again. "I care deeply about you, too, and always will. I'm sure you
know that. But I don't love you in that way-as a lover, a wife. I'm
sorry-oh, I am sorry! Please, don't look like that. We've been
friends-close friends-for so long, but we aren't lovers. I'm sure we'll
continue to be friends. Let's not confuse our friendship with love.
Besides, I'm too young to marry!"

His expression made her want to cry, and she took his hands again.
"Please try to understand. I need you-as my best and truest friend. I
wish I did love you in that way. If anyone deserves love, it's you. But
I can't force my heart to feel differently than it feels."

He looked up at her, forcing a smile to his face. "Let's talk no more of
it. But remember, if ever you change your mind, I won't have changed
mine. I'll still love you and want to marry you."

They returned to Prometheus's apartment. She lifted Alalkomeneus to her
shoulder, gave Prometheus a quick kiss on the cheek, then hurried away.
Once outside, however, she went more slowly. Her conversation with
Prometheus made her examine her feelings anew, and as she walked she
came to a decision.

Actually she had known from the beginning, instinctively, but her
conscious mind had struggled against the idea. She loved Zeus. It did
not matter that he was still a boy, or that he was terribly ignorant; he
would be fully grown soon enough, and continued exposure to the society
of Mount Othrys would round off his rustic edges. Neither did it matter
that he was the son of Kronos and would someday become King of the Gods;
she would have loved him as the son of Amaltheia, whatever his destiny.

Yes, she was certain now. She loved Zeus and would marry him.

Fifteen

When he found himself unceremoniously deposited in the corridor outside
the apartment of Prometheus, Menoitios pulled himself upright,
straightened his chiton, and did his best to recover his lost dignity,
even though a quick glance about had assured him that he was completely
alone and no one had observed his humiliating departure. He cast a last,
lingering look of hatred at the door through which his brother had just
thrust him, then strode off toward his own rooms, which were situated on
the floor above.

As he walked, his anger increased. He viewed Prometheus with a deep and
abiding repugnance that differed only in degree from the distaste and
disdain he felt toward his parents and other brothers-toward all his
elders, for that matter. Their arrogance was unbearable. They thought
they knew everything-merely because they were old. The truth was that
age brought not wisdom but inflexibility and stagnation, ideas and
attitudes mired in the stodgy past. Of course the gods his own age were
little better. They were all incredibly stupid and shortsighted, and he
detested them almost as much- more, sometimes.

As he ascended a great, circular staircase, he searched for some way
that he might revenge himself upon Prometheus. He yearned to inflict a
terrible vengeance upon him, but knew that a satisfyingly violent
response was out of the question, even if brought about by trickery and
stealth. Prometheus was tall and powerfully built, and would not
hesitate to retaliate; he was shrewd, too, and all too likely to trace
his misfortune to its author. How unfair it was! Time after time
Menoitios had been forced to swallow his pride and endure his brother's
affronts; but matters would not remain thus forever. Eventually
Menoitios's turn would come and he would find a way to strike back
without fear of reprisal. And perhaps that day was already at hand....

The conversation he had overheard suggested intriguing possibilities. So
Prometheus loved Metis! That was an interesting bit of intelligence. He
was determined to repay her handsomely for the wrong she had done him,
and so he might be able to exact a secondhand vengeance upon Prometheus,
since any pain inflicted upon the Okeanid could reasonably be presumed
also to hurt those who loved her. He would need a second scheme to
encompass all that; his present one, though it promised to be richly
gratifying, was not suitably severe. The insufferable Okeanid must not
merely be punished; she must be crushed.

If she loved Zeus, that presented possibilities too. It should not be
very difficult to engineer some harm for the newcomer, and perhaps
thereby wound Metis. Menoitios had taken an instant dislike to him and
relished the prospect.

Entering his apartment, he went to the terrarium and stood above it,
staring down at the perfectly reconstructed landscape within the
rectangular enclosure. He scanned the low hills and rolling grasslands,
then reached down and plucked up something from beneath one of the small
trees. The creature struggled in his hand, flailing and jerking its arms
and legs as he carried it upward and lield it directly in front of his
face.

Menoitios scrutinized the man, who wore only a dirty loincloth of
sheepskin. He was sturdily built and quite large for a member of his
species, with thick chest and bulging, muscular arms. Yes, Menoitios
decided, this one was definitely bigger than Alalkomeneus, the mortal in
which Metis took such pride; he was both taller and heavier, but also
considerably uglier, with low, thick brows and dull, furtive eyes that
always sought to avoid the gaze of the god.

"Look at me, mortal," Menoitios commanded, shaking the creature. "You
were sleeping just now. I didn't bring you here to sleep. Are you so
stupid that you failed to understand me? You'll find no honey dripping
from these trees, no goat milk and acorns free for the taking. In this
land over which I rule, you'll work for your food. You'll hunt the
creatures I've so graciously provided for your sustenance-or you'll
starve."

The man stared at the deity in terror, trembling. "Yes, my lord, I heard
you-and obeyed! I have hunted, my lord. I hunted and killed, and then I
crawled beneath a tree to sleep. Have I done wrong, my lord?"

Menoitios scanned the terrarium, at last locating a bit of bloody fur
not far from where he had found the man. "What did you kill? It must
have been very small."

"A hare, my lord."

"A hare? Bolitos, I brought you here to make a proficient killer of you,
not to have you prey upon the most harmless of creatures. You must learn
to stalk your victims with skill, not wait in a tree for them to hop
past. You will hunt only large game in the future-creatures that offer a
challenge. You must be able to creep upon them without being
seen-without even being suspected until your spear pierces their hearts.
Do you understand?"

"Yes, master."

"Good. Now you must hunt again, while I watch you." He reached down and
recovered the mortal's spear-little larger than a goddess's sewing
needle between the enormous fingers of the god-and gave it to him. Then,
moving slowly and smoothly to avoid startling the intended prey,
Menoitios set the mortal down within the terrarium behind a number of
trees and nudged him forward until he caught sight of the intended
victim.

Perhaps a dozen yards away stood a huge tapir, its attention directed
wholly toward the thick tree branch it had pulled downward and from
which it was methodically stripping leaf after leaf, slowly grinding
them between its great teeth. The man began to edge his way closer
behind the heavy foliage, spear drawn back and ready to cast. The god
smiled as he watched the man creep forward. The piglike animal was
imposing-nearly as tall as the hunter who stalked it, with great
powerful jaws. It was well equipped to defend itself.

At last the man rose up and stepped into the open, propelling his spear
with great force. The missile pierced the creature's side behind its
front shoulder. With a terrible squeal, the tapir turned to confront its
attacker.

The man raced forward, leaping to one side to avoid the animal's
snapping jaws, and took hold of the spear shaft. The tapir tried to
reach him, but he kept moving around it, holding fast to the shaft,
twisting and shoving it in an effort to force its point into the beast's
heart. The creature squealed still more loudly, then stumbled and went
down. Now he stood over it, probing with the spear point until the beast
ceased to struggle. Drawing a knife from his belt, he knelt and slashed
open its throat, letting its dark blood drench the ground.

Menoitios lifted the man out of the terrarium and again held him up
close to his own face. The enormous smile of the deity sent chills of
terror through the mortal.

"Very good indeed. You must have hunted before, among your own people.
You didn't acquire such skill within these few days. Tell me,
Bolitos-have you ever hunted another man? Have you ever killed another
man?"

The mortal shook his head.

"Too bad. I thought not. But you have fought with them- wounded them,
have you not?"

"Yes, my lord, a number of times. That's why King Pelasgos sent me away
from the tribe."

The god nodded slowly, still smiling. "It doesn't matter, though, I
don't suppose. You shed blood well. You can creep silently, attack
swiftly and surely. Good! You'll do every bit as well as I hoped. Now
listen to me-are you paying attention, Bolitios?"

The man nodded vigorously, his eyes grown huge with fear.

"I have a task for you. If you perform it well, I'll reward you as only
a god can reward a mortal. I'll make you the envy of all the detestable
creatures of blood with whom you dwell. But if you fail me. . . . Need I
tell you what will happen then, Bolitos?"

"I won't fail you, master!" the man cried.

"Good. You must work very hard. Now, go back to your little world and
kill more. Become as skilled at bloodshed as you possibly can-as quickly
as you can. It'll soon be time for you to attend to my errand."

While Menoitios congratulated himself on how well his scheme was
progressing, elsewhere on Mount Othrys the Titan Helios sat beside his
friends Perses and Pallas. Prom their position on a hillside bench they
could look down into the long court that ran beside the Palace of Atlas,
the eldest son of Iapetos. Playful shouts and laughter drifted up from
the court, where a half-dozen young maidens ran back and forth around a
single male figure, tossing a large, leather-covered ball from sister to
sister. A seventh maiden, youngest of them all, sat watching from the
nearby stairs that led into the palace. Even at the distance from which
Helios and his companions observed him, the lone god clearly was
enjoying himself. If he was not overly enamored of the game itself, he
certainly was pleased by the company of the beautiful daughters of Atlas
and Pleione. And the Pleiades seemed equally delighted with him.

"I can't bear this any longer," Perses announced. "I hate him. Look at
the way they bounce and flutter about for his attention. It's an
embarrassment-an outrage!"

"What would you have us do?" Helios asked.

Since the night of Zeus's arrival, the son of Hyperion and his
companions had lost interest in Epimetheus and his family; that was an
ongoing problem that could be attended to eventually, when opportunities
presented themselves. The impertinent god from Crete was a far more
pressing and irritating matter, and an appealing target for their
energies.

"We could slip down and wait near the front of the palace, then follow
him when he leaves. We could pull him from the pathway into the trees
and-"

Helios shook his head. "He has too many supporters. The Titanesses like
him as much as their daughters, it seems. We don't dare-yet."

"Yet?" Pallas asked.

Helios nodded gravely, letting a smile grow on his lips. "We saw what he
was like the night he arrived here on Mount Othrys. That rogue was the
real Zeus, not the properly behaved youth you see below us now. All we
have to do is wait. Eventually he'll slip up again and reveal his true
self. When he does, we'll have the excuse we need."

They were silent for a short while; then Perses asked, "What shall we do
to him? Then, I mean, when he slips up. Beating isn't enough of a
punishment."

"You can beat him if you like. But I think I know how to make him
vividly remember his visit to Mount Othrys-and quake at the thought of
ever repeating it. You know the northern cliffs? Where you can drop a
stone and watch it fall all the way to the earth below-bouncing from
rock to rock? Those jagged rocks are like huge teeth. I think that might
be an appropriate punishment. Before he fell half the distance, he'd be
ripped a hundred times and pounded to a pulp."

"After such a fall," Perses said, smiling too now, "he'd never dare
return."

"If he survived at all," Pallas said, looking slightly troubled. "Has
anyone ever suffered such a fall? I've heard it said that there are
things from which even an immortal god cannot recover."

Helios shrugged. "Whatever happens, it'll be his own doing. The fault
will be his."

Pallas frowned. "Isn't there anything we can do to hurry him along? As
you said, it's only a matter of time until he missteps, but I'm already
tired of waiting."

"Perhaps," Helios said thoughtfully. He was staring down toward the
laughing maidens below them.

"Tell us what you're thinking," Perses insisted.

Helios looked back at them. "What would happen if one of the lovely
young goddesses he spends his time with were to ... encourage him too
much?"

"Probably the same thing that happened before, with Asterie and Selene,"
Perses said.

"Probably," Helios continued. "And if we were to arrange things
properly, we could easily position ourselves nearby, to intercede in
behalf of such a young goddess when the -boy lost control of himself.
And who could blame us if we overreacted a bit ourselves in subduing
him?''

"But who would tempt him in that fashion? They're all mad over him. None
of them would do such a thing on purpose."

"None? I can think of one goddess who isn't overfond of Zeus. Besides, I
didn't say anything about it being done on purpose."

"Who?"

"Asterie," Helios said.

"Yes, that's true," Perses said, "but that's only because she's jealous.
He's spending his time with all these other goddesses, but hasn't
visited her even once since that night. Of course he's probably avoiding
her on purpose, so he won't offend you, Helios."

"Nevertheless, what I said is accurate. She's one goddess who isn't fond
of Zeus."

"But I don't think she'd betray him. She wouldn't purposely lead him
into a trap such as you-"

"Perhaps not . . . But she's a changeable creature. A few well-chosen
lies might put her in the appropriate mood to face him, to taunt him a
bit. . . . It's worth some thought, my friends. Let me consider the
problem a while longer."

Just then laughter exploded from the court below them, and they looked
down to see Zeus stretched upon the ground, two of the Pleiades holding
him down. As they watched, other maidens leaped atop the youth, until he
lay completely covered by divine femininity.

Sixteen

For Metis, the days passed very slowly indeed. Having decided to make
Zeus her husband, she was distressed to discover that she had very
little innate aptitude for such an undertaking. Most of the time she was
exceptionally clearsighted and knew exactly what was required to resolve
any problem she faced, but now she was competing in a new and unfamiliar
arena. She tried to approach the problem methodically, but soon found
herself in a sea of subtleties and nuances that defied neat
classification and clean, insightful solutions.

She saw herself as natural and unaffected. Her dealings with others,
while never tactless, were usually direct and to the point, short of the
little deceits and subterfuges that so often smoothed the interpersonal
relations of gods and goddesses. She clearly stated what she wanted, and
expected others to do the same in return. But this was different. She
had never been in love before.

Now she did her best to emulate her more successful sisters, agonizing
over each choice of clothing, standing endlessly before her mirror and
struggling to arrange each garment to optimum effect, so that it fell in
just the right way to accentuate the graceful curves of her slender
body. She sat for more than an hour at a time struggling to shape her
hair into a more pleasing design-a hopeless undertaking, she finally
decided, for the thick, dark ringlets resisted her every effort. Such
feminine artifice made her uncomfortable and seemed like an extravagant
expenditure of time; nevertheless, she persisted.

Worst of all, though, were the hour or two she and Zeus spent together
each day. The Okeanid did her best to be bright and captivating,
approachable but not accessible, short of marriage. She had to be lovely
and desirable without encouraging improper advances that she would be
compelled to rebuff. It was a delicate balance to maintain and she
wondered how the other maidens managed it ... and if they actually did.

During those hours, Zeus always listened politely to her conversation,
nodding at the appropriate junctures; and at times he even warmed to
some tangent of her topic and followed it for a while in a direction
that interested him, but she was always left with a feeling of hopeless
inadequacy as she watched him rise at last and leave the apartment-to
laugh and chat with other goddesses. Her continued failure was
humiliating, but what could she do? She refused to stoop to the
questionable tactics some goddesses employed. After all, she was
determined to marry him, not merely to win his love for a night.

Since he had come to stay in the Okeanid's apartment, Zeus had carefully
kept his distance from her. At times he found it painful merely to be in
her presence-watching her lithe, supple form as she moved about the
room, looking at her lovely face as she squatted across from him on the
floor, talking animatedly. He found, her quite attractive physically and
was gradually coming even to appreciate her peculiar mind, though
occasionally her conversations slipped from the imaginative and
insightful to the bizarre and complex, making him yearn for the less
mentally taxing, idle gossip that was the mainstay of most of the other
goddesses. As much as he desired her, though, he made a point of never
letting down his guard in her presence. One slip, he was certain, and
she would see to it that he was sent back to Crete, which did not suit
his plans at all. Mount Othrys was too delightful a place to leave
prematurely.

Still, the Okeanid was most appealing, and as he descended the great
steps leading from the Palace of Okeanos he found himself wishing that
other circumstances prevailed, so that he could properly explore her
amorous potential. He had just started down one of the stone paths when
a small, dark-haired goddess stepped up to him.

"You are the boy called Zeus?" she asked.

He smiled at her. "Yes, but I don't know who you are."

"My name doesn't matter. I am an attendant of Lady Asterie. Please, may
I speak with you?"

"Certainly. Has your mistress sent you?"

"No. At least, not exactly. Really, she'd be quite angry if she knew I
was here. Please promise you won't repeat anything I tell you."

Zeus looked puzzled. "You may speak freely. No one will learn what
you've said."

"Thank you! Please tell me, do you find Lady Asterie attractive?"

Zeus looked still more puzzled.

"Please answer honestly. I know the question is presumptuous, but I
promise you I have a good reason for asking."

"Of course I do. But I don't understand. Why do you ask such a thing?"

"Because you've offended her. She knows how you've come to be a favorite
among all the younger goddesses-but you've avoided seeing her."

"I was warned to avoid her," Zeus said, growing more and more intrigued
by the conversation. The goddess had continued along the narrow path and
Zeus followed her as they talked.

"Good. Then you don't dislike her. You aren't purposely trying to offend
her."

"Not at all. Offending her is the farthest thing from my mind. I was
told that she and Helios love each other, and that I would anger him if
I visited her, especially after ..."

"She does see Helios regularly, that's true. But they're not promised to
one another. Tell me, are you afraid of him?"

Zeus stiffened. "No, I don't fear him ... but I have no particular
desire to antagonize him, either. Besides, I've had no reason to think
that Asterie might want to see me."

"But she does! I know that may seem odd. Certainly she must not have
seemed very friendly when last you saw her. But goddesses don't always
show their feelings openly. I'll tell you something that perhaps I
shouldn't. The... uh, attention you showed her on the occasion of your
first meeting left her... flattered. She was startled, too-a bit
frightened, I'm sure-and not at all certain what to make of you. After
all, you were a stranger to all Othrys then. But your open admiration
did not go unnoticed, or unappreciated. Had circumstances been
different-had she known you better-she might well have succumbed
willingly. Understand me well- Asterie would certainly deny what I'm
telling you, but that doesn't make it any less true. Some goddesses, you
realize, find such rough advances quite... exciting. They prefer to have
their lovers take the initiative-forcefully-but seldom bring themselves
to openly admit their feelings even to themselves."

Zeus had stopped walking and was staring intently at her. "Why are you
telling me this?"

"I hate to see my mistress so sad. I thought if you knew how things
truly are, you might visit her sometime-perhaps even tonight. She's at
home right now, bored and lonely."

"Are you certain of what you've said? You truly think she'd be pleased
to see me again?"

"I know she would!"

"Then I'll go. We'll walk together, and when we arrive you can announce
me to her."

The dark-haired goddess smiled up at him, and they continued on toward
the Palace of Koios. As they drew near their destination, she raised her
hand behind Zeus's back, where he could not see it, and signaled toward
the grove of trees they were passing. A hand appeared from among the
leaves and waved back at her. A few moments later she took Zeus's arm
and led him up the broad stairs, across the portico, and into the
palace.

Within the trees, Helios turned and grinned at his companions. "I told
you he'd come."

"But can you trust the goddess?" Perses asked. "If she tells anyone
about this-"

Helios was shaking his head. "Nara owes me too many favors to break her
word. And I know too many unflattering things about her."

"Maybe," Perses continued, "but I'm not so sure this is a good idea.
Something might go wrong. Aren't you putting Asterie in too much
danger?"

"As soon as she escorts Zeus to Asterie, Nara will signal us. We'll slip
into a nearby room and wait there until we're needed."

"I don't know," Perses said quietly. "Sometimes I wonder if you really
care about Asterie at all."

"Even if Zeus believes what he's been told," Pallas said, "what makes
you think he'll actually attack her? After their last encounter, he's
going to be very cautious."

"Asterie will help persuade him."

"How do you mean?" Perses demanded.

"I had a long talk with her this afternoon. She's proud and headstrong.
The secret to getting her to do what you want is to appeal to her
vanity. I told her I'd overheard Zeus talking, and that he claimed he
would never have acted so impetuously with her had he not been new to
Mount Othrys. 'Oh, Asterie's attractive enough,' I told her he said,
'but now that I've seen so many other beautiful goddesses, I wouldn't
find her charms so overwhelming.' "

Helios chuckled softly. "You should have seen Asterie bristle. She'll be
determined to outshine the other maidens. She'll be at her most lovely
and alluring now that her appeal has been challenged. I told her he was
planning to visit tonight, so she's expecting him-garbed for the
occasion, I'll wager."

"Some things are only desirable when others want them," Pallas observed.
"And many other goddesses seem to want Zeus."

Helios frowned, but before he could reply Perses said, "Look!" They all
turned toward the palace. In one of the ground-floor windows they saw
Nara, who was beckoning them.

The three gods circled around to the front of the building. The goddess
met them at the great door and quickly conducted them across the atrium.

"In here," she whispered, opening the door to a small chamber. "They're
in the next room. The door is closed and these walls are very thick, but
if you stand near the windows you should be able to hear Asterie if she
cries out. Sound carries well that way, from one window to another along
the outside of the palace." She gave him a wide grin, as if to emphasize
her personal knowledge of such matters. "You may even be able to hear
their chitchat." She hesitated before leaving them. "I hope you know
what you're doing, Helios. I really hate being a part of this. He looks
like such a nice boy."

Grimacing, Helios moved to stand where she had indicated. Nara left
them, pulling the door closed behind her, and the Titan began to ringer
the hilt of his sword as he listened. Occasionally a few words reached
him from the next room, and he heard Asterie laughing in the pleasant,
flirtatious manner she adopted on such occasions.

As Helios waited impatiently, in the next room Zeus and Asterie sat side
by side talking. If Zeus had thought the goddess merely beautiful the
last time he saw her, now he would willingly have admitted that she was
indeed gorgeous. She was garbed in a clinging peplos that accented every
contour of her body while exposing large, beguiling patches of her
graceful shoulders and well-formed bosom. She was different tonight in
other ways as well-warmly solicitous as she greeted him and ushered him
to his seat, attentive and congenial as she brought him nectar to sip
and settled down beside him.

One thing Zeus had learned about dealing with these lovely creatures was
that he seldom actually had to say very much himself. An occasional
question about some minor and totally insignificant aspect of their
lives was usually more than enough to keep them chattering away for
fifteen or twenty minutes at a time. As they talked, Asterie leaned
toward him in a maddening way, so that her breath caressed his face and
her lips hovered so near that he need only stretch his neck toward her
to kiss her. Time and again her hand settled on his arm as she talked,
and when a few drops of nectar dribbled to his chest, she insisted on
daubing them away herself with her kerchief.

Zeus wondered if the attendant who had brought him here could actually
be right. While it had not occurred to him that she might be lying, he
had not really believed her either-at least not completely. Asterie
certainly seemed friendly and playful tonight, and.... approachable.
Slowly he began to respond in kind, until at last their lips met in a
kiss-a kiss the goddess not only did not seek to elude but rather
pursued, leaning toward him and slipping her arms around his back.

"Oh, but you know we shouldn't," she whispered as she drew back. "We
barely know each other."

But now it was Asterie's turn to be surprised. When she sought to
disengage herself from the embrace, she found that the boy would not let
her go. The hands that had been so gentle upon her back and waist had
taken on a more insistent and urgent quality as they foraged into new
and unexplored territory. What she had intended as merely a bit of
daring but essentially innocent fun-no different, she imagined, from
what the other maidens of Othrys indulged in-he clearly viewed in a
quite different light.

"Oh!" she cried, pulling as far away from him as she could while his
left arm still held her pressed against his chest. He had come out of
his chair and was bending over her, trying to kiss her again. "Please
stop this instant! I see I've made a mistake. You misunderstand me.
Please let me go-immediately*.''

At last she managed to free herself. As she rose and started to move
away he reached for her. His hand caught her peplos instead, becoming
entangled in its folds. As she stumbled away, the garment's clasp ripped
free. Asterie failed to notice, and turned to retreat across the room,
so that the peplos untwisted part way, then dropped loosely about her
feet. She tripped out of the garment, then discovered to her horror that
she was completely undraped. Clutching her arms across her breasts, she
began to scream.

By this time Zeus realized that he had totally misinterpreted the
goddess's intentions; what those intentions might actually have been,
given the way she had thrown herself at him, he had not the slightest
idea. He also realized that no one on Mount Othrys would ever believe
that Asterie's clothing had fallen off by accident. His sojourn among
the Titans had just come to an abrupt end, for certainly he would have
to flee the mountain. For a moment he hesitated, staring longingly at
the beautiful maiden. She was a provocative sight as she vainly
attempted to conceal the lushest of her charms beneath her slender arms
and little hands. He shrugged, as if to disown personal responsibility
for something that clearly must have been preordained, then lunged for
her.

The goddess shrieked and retreated across the room, the youth at her
heels. To Zeus's amazement, though, the figure of the goddess blurred
for an instant as she neared the far end of the chamber, and then he
found himself pursuing a small, reddish-brown bird that circled upward
and darted back in the opposite direction. He leaped after it, but the
quail kept swerving out of his grasp.

As he ran, he wished that he had remembered to practice metamorphosis;
he had intended to learn that skill, just as he had learned to equip
himself with wings. The goddess escaped him yet again, wheeling out of
reach just before striking a wall, and he imagined himself as a bird of
prey, his powerful wings propelling him after her with ever increasing
speed. The thought became very clear for an instant-so clear that he
seemed to experience the sensation of flight-and then he realized that
his clothing had slipped away and he was flying.

The quail cried out in little shrill shrieks of terror and veered toward
a window, a great eagle directly behind it. Just as they reached the
opening, the outer door of the chamber flew open. Helios stood in the
doorway with Pallas and Perses behind him. The Titan rushed across the
room and peered out into the night, but he was too late. The two birds
had already vanished in the darkness.

Asterie flew southeast, traveling far faster than any true bird. Small
brown wings concealing Titanic power beat incessantly, sending her
darting across the dark sky. Time and again her pursuer drew near and
seemed upon the point of overtaking her, but each time she somehow found
the strength to increase her speed still further. Soon they were above
water and heading out across a great sea. There were many clouds
tonight, and she sought again and again to conceal herself among them,
but Zeus never lost sight of her.

At last the goddess's strength began to fail, and the eagle drew
inexorably closer. She glanced back for an instant and was horrified to
see it just above and behind her, its great talons already stretched out
to grasp her in midair. There was nothing else to do; she folded her
wings back into a position suitable for diving and plummeted downward
toward the sea.

Zeus followed her down through thick clouds and watched as she struck
the water, disappearing beneath the dark waves. Swooping upward at the
last moment, he barely avoided plunging in after her.

For a long time he flew in a circle over the area, searching, but she
never reappeared. Finally he turned and headed back toward Mount Othrys,
where he would bid good-bye to his mother and Metis.

Seventeen

"Now you're ready," Menoitios said gleefully the following evening as he
lifted the mortal Bolitos back out of the terrarium and held him up near
his own face to scrutinize the brute more carefully. The blood of a
freshly slain bear streaked the man's forearms and hairy, powerful
chest.

The god carried the man to a nearby table where a shallow bowl of water
waited. "Bathe yourself now, lest the odor of blood betray you later. We
must act now, or possibly lose our opportunity-if we haven't lost it
already. Wash your spear and knife, too."

Once the man was bathed, Menoitios gave him a fresh swatch of linen and
instructed him to fashion himself a new loincloth. While he worked, the
god examined the tiny weapons to assure himself that they remained
undamaged. Finally, preparations completed, Menoitios slipped a cloak
over his own shoulders and concealed the mortal inside it, then left his
apartment and set out for the Palace of Okeanos.

It was already night and the moon had not yet risen. Menoitios took
advantage of the darkness to make a slow circuit of the building. When
he was confident he had located the apartment of Metis on the third
floor and that no one was nearby and likely to see him, he caused wings
to grow from his back, held the mortal in one hand for greater safety,
and flew upward, landing on the narrow sill just outside an un-lighted
room. As he entered the apartment, he nearly stumbled over the numerous
plants that crowded the sill itself and the nearby floor. Once inside,
he paused to let his eyes accustom themselves to the greater darkness.

He had been in the apartment of the Okeanid two or three times before,
though a number of years earlier; still, he had a good memory for places
and easily estimated his position within the large suite of rooms. He
judged quite accurately that he was in a small storage room just off a
short hall that led to the atrium. If he had calculated correctly, he
should find a suitable hiding place for Bolitos in one of the other
rooms that opened on the hall.

"You must say nothing, and make no noise," he warned the mortal as he
repositioned him within his clothing. He paused to listen at the door,
then cracked it open and listened again. Voices reached him from some
slight distance away, and he felt confident enough to open the door
still farther and look out. Finding no one in sight, he crept down the
hall. An open doorway attracted his attention and he paused beside it to
look in; it was Metis's bedroom-he had not remembered its location-and
would make an ideal hiding place for Bolitos, since he had reason to
believe Alalkomeneus slept there too.

Before he entered that chamber, however, the voices drew his attention
more forcefully, and he hesitated in the narrow hall, listening. He
recognized Metis's voice, but it took him a few moments to place the
other. Eventually he decided it must be Rhea.

"No, my lady," the Okeanid was saying. "I'm afraid it's impossible. I've
spent the entire day going back and forth among the Titans. Certainly
there are many who favor Zeus, but Koios and Phoibe are adamant, and
they've convinced Iapetos, Hyperion, and Crios. When Asterie finally
returned home-that wasn't until late this morning-I thought they might
calm down a trifle, but it's hopeless. After last night, they won't even
consider giving him another chance. We're lucky they haven't discovered
him yet, for if they do-"

"I had so hoped he might remain," Rhea said, "but I suppose you're
right."

"I'm certain I'm right," Metis continued. "Do you know that I had
visitors here, in my apartment, three times today? They wouldn't believe
I wasn't hiding him. I let them search everywhere-it was the only way to
get rid of them. Otherwise they'd be skulking about now, hoping to lay
hands on him."

"Where was he?" the Titaness asked.

"I told them he fled back to his island home late last night, after the
debacle with Asterie. Actually I had him hidden in one of the unoccupied
apartments of the palace-two floors above us. I, too, hoped that somehow
we might placate them, but it's impossible. I'm afraid you have no
choice but to send him away. If he's caught, his punishment will be
severe indeed. After all, they don't know who he is."

Menoitios could contain his curiosity no longer. He edged toward the
atrium and glanced out quickly. Metis and Rhea stood near each other;
almost between them, looking glum and cowed, the boy Zeus sat in a
straight-backed chair. Near his feet, squatting on the floor, Menoitios
spotted the mortal Alalkomeneus. Just then Rhea started to turn in his
direction and Menoitios ducked quickly back out of sight.

The Titaness began to pace nervously about the room, twisting her hands
together as she walked. "Yes, you're right, Metis. He must leave Mount
Othrys tonight. Perhaps he may return in time, but it's far too
dangerous for him to remain now. He can't go back to Crete, though; some
of the Titans probably know the general location of that island and may
search there for him."

Rhea turned abruptly to face the Okeanid again. "I didn't want to tell
you before, but now I must. I believe it will soon be time for my son to
put into effect a train of events that will eventually lead him to his
rightful place among the gods. To do that, he will need your help. Will
you help him, Metis?"

"Of course, my lady!" the younger goddess said, her face clearly
betraying her pleasure at such an opportunity. "But what do you mean?
What must I do?"

"Zeus isn't yet ready to face his father openly-he's too young, not
strong enough. For that matter, Kronos is too powerful for any one god
to confront alone, even now. To wrest the kingship of the gods from him,
Zeus must have the assistance of his brothers."

"But they're ..."

Rhea nodded sadly. "Yes. They're still imprisoned, and without your help
they must remain so. Can you concoct an herb which, when given to
Kronos-"

"Easily! I already have such an herb-or at least I used to. One way or
the other, I can supply it when the time is right. At worst it might
take me a day or two to fashion what's needed."

"Good. Then when you have time, prepare the herb and keep it at hand.
There's a second thing. I fear to turn Zeus out on his own. As I've
said, he dare not return to Crete. Will you continue as his protectress?
He needs someone to keep him out of trouble.'' She cast a scornful look
at her son, who immediately dropped his eyes and looked away. "You would
have to take him far away, where the Titans are unlikely to find him."

"Yes!" Metis cried before she managed to control her exuberance; then
she continued more staidly, "I'll do whatever I can to assist you both,
my lady."

Watching again from the nearby hallway, Menoitios did not fail to note
the joyful tone of Metis's response or the look of relief that suffused
her face on learning that she and Zeus were to go off together. Those
two things told him what he wanted to know. The suspicion of the mortal
Alalkomeneus had not been mistaken; Metis loved this outlandish boy.

Rhea stood now with her eyes closed, pondering something. Finally she
said, "We must not act precipitously. Two moons, I think-oh, it's so
difficult to be certain! All this was shown me once, long ago, but there
was too much to remember.... Take him far away and keep him safe until
two moons have passed, then return here. Have your herb ready. We'll
have other preparations to make then, and you may be pressed for time.
We'll go together to Mount Olympos and face Kronos."

"You want me to go with you?" Metis asked, pleased to be included in
anything having to do with the youth.

"Yes, I think you must come with us. I believe so...."

Menoitios was delighted at all he had heard. What a revelation it
amounted to-Zeus was the son of Kronos and Rhea!

And what an opportunity it offered to revenge himself upon Metis.
Satisfied that he had discovered as much as he was likely to learn here
tonight, he went back to Metis's bedroom.

Just inside the doorway he removed Bolitos from within his clothing,
looked meaningfully into the mortal's face, and set him down near the
bed. He watched in satisfaction as the man scurried away to conceal
himself. He had been thoroughly instructed and knew exactly what he must
do.

After the man disappeared from sight, Menoitios made his way back to the
window through which he had entered the apartment, then flew down from
the palace and returned to his home. Once there, he went to find
Klymene.

"Good evening, Mother," he said pleasantly as he entered her room. "What
an interesting tapestry you're making. May I help you somehow?"

Klymene, pleased at the unaccustomed interest and companionship of her
youngest son, gestured for him to join her. He stayed with her for a
number of hours, and left reluctantly when she finally announced that
she was about to prepare for bed. If anyone were later to inquire, she
would certainly remember that he had spent the evening with her.

When Menoitios left him, Bolitos waited patiently in his hiding place
behind one of the many wooden chests that lined the walls of Metis's
bedroom. In time the noises within the atrium became fewer, and soon he
heard the approaching footsteps of the goddess.

The man shivered slightly as he peeked out at her towering form. She was
talking, and now he realized that she must have brought with her the
mortal Menoitios had sent him to kill. Grasping his spear more tightly,
Bolitos edged forward until he could see the man, who was standing on
the goddess's bed, conversing with her.

The sight reassured him. His adversary was tall, though not as tall as
Bolitos, and relatively slender. Slaying him should not be difficult, he
thought as he slipped back into his hiding place and continued to wait.

Eventually the goddess left the room. Still Bolitos waited, giving her
time to get far enough away that she would be unlikely to hear the man's
death cries. From another room he heard her voice, then the voice of a
god. Good. She was engaged in conversation and probably would not return
for some minutes. Grasping his spear more tightly, he crept toward his
prey.

Alalkomeneus was on the floor now, beside Metis's bed. His back was
toward his approaching assailant. Bolitos drew back his spear, judged
the distance, and sent the missile flying toward the man's unprotected
back.

To his astonishment, though, his target leaped aside at the exact moment
the spear left his hand. Bolitos realized now that the man, who had
seemed oblivious to his approach, must have known he was here and been
waiting for him to strike. Drawing his dagger, he rushed forward and
sought to plunge the blade into the man's chest, but again he
miscalculated. Alalkomeneus was fast and supple, easily dodging to one
side so that instead of striking him, Bolitos found himself charging
headlong into a wall. He turned, knife still ready, and lunged again,
but the man had drawn his own dagger by now and somehow kept managing to
stay just out of reach. Panting for breath, Bolitos paused; that was
when he noticed the blood on his intended victim's knife. Glancing down,
he saw blood gushing from his own side-from a wound he had not even
felt. He stared down in astonishment, then tried to cover the wound with
one hand. All the while Alalkomeneus watched him, his own dagger ready.
Bolitos started forward, but the strength went out of his legs and he
stumbled, falling on his face. He lay still, less than a pace from the
other man.

But he was not unconscious. He was completely alert, knife clutched
tightly in his hand, ready to send it into his adversary's heart. Eyes
closed, he waited for Alalkomeneus to bend over him and reach down to
see if he was alive or dead; then he would strike. But the other man did
not approach; instead he heard the sound of departing footsteps and
realized that his opponent was leaving the room, presumably to return
with his goddess. Bolitos pushed himself to his knees and stood erect
with difficulty. Pulling off his loincloth, he used it to staunch the
flow of blood from his wound, then staggered out to the hall. He
stumbled back along the route by which Menoitios had brought him here.
Menoitios had left open the door to the rear room through which they had
entered the apartment; the opening was barely wide enough for him to fit
through, and once inside Bolitos threw his weight against the door and
pushed it completely closed, as he had been instructed to do. Below the
window he found the thin rope ladder Menoitios had left for him, and
managed with great difficulty to ascend it. He was very weak by now and
had to stop often to rest. Once on the great stone sill, he pulled the
ladder up after him, so that it would not reveal his route of escape,
then found a place of concealment beneath one of Metis's plants. He lay
down there and promptly lost consciousness.

When he awakened many hours afterward, he was back in Menoitios's room.
As promised, the god had returned later that night to the Palace of
Okeanos to retrieve him.

"Is Alalkomeneus dead?" the god demanded.

Bolitos shook his head weakly. "No, my lord. I attacked him with spear
and knife, but he was too fast. ..."

The god's face turned livid. "You've failed me, miserable creature. You
worthless animal, you failed me-and she's going away. I won't get
another chance!"

Menoitios dropped the mortal to the floor, placed his sandaled foot on
the man's body, and slowly ground it against the marble floor, until
nothing recognizable remained.

Furious, Menoitios paced the room for a few minutes, then sat down
suddenly.

He would have to be patient. Two months, after all, was not that long.
It gave him time to plan and prepare. He could wait, knowing that she
and Zeus would be going to Mount Olympos together. Kronos was not likely
to let Zeus's accomplice escape; but if he did, Menoitios would at least
have the satisfaction of knowing that he was responsible for the
destruction of the god she loved.

There was something exquisite in the simplicity of it. All he had to do
was feed Zeus to Kronos.

Eighteen

Early the folowing morning Metis went first to visit those of her
sisters and brothers who resided within the Palace of Okeanos, and then
to see Klymene and Prometheus. She told each of them that she had
decided to return home to the Kingdom of Okeanos for a while. Prometheus
tried to dissuade her, but eventually decided that a visit with her
parents might indeed be the best thing for her now, after the abrupt
disappearance of Zeus. The implication that she was a heartsick maiden
rushing home to her parents mortified her, but she did nothing to
indicate otherwise. It was better to sacrifice her pride than to have
him think she was going off to meet the boy.

Shortly before noon she slipped away from Mount Othrys and flew toward
the west, carrying Alalkomeneus safely in her basket. However
inconvenient her hasty departure might be in other respects, she was
pleased at the opportunity it presented to remove her favorite mortal
from danger. The unexpected attack upon him-carried out in the sanctuary
of her own bedroom-had undermined her confidence in her ability to
protect him and made her all the more determined to return him to the
greater safety of his own people, an action which she had been
considering since Menoitios first threatened the man. Of course she had
no proof that Menoitios was behind the unprovoked assault, but proof was
only necessary if she sought to bring the crime before the Council of
Titans, and she had no intention of undertaking such a thankless task.
For the time being she was content to insure Alalkomeneus's safety;
later, when she had fulfilled her commitments to Rhea, she would devote
herself to the punishment of Menoitios.

She flew until she could no longer see the mountain behind her, then
circled first north and then east. Finally she arrived at the narrow
gorge where Zeus and Rhea awaited her. They had left Mount Othrys late
the night before to lessen the likelihood of detection, and had spent
the morning talking quietly. With Metis's arrival, Rhea rose to leave.
She embraced her son, then turned toward Metis.

"Thank you again, my dear," she said quietly. "I know you'll do
everything you can to keep him safe."

The Titaness returned to Mount Othrys while Metis and Zeus flew toward
Mount Pelion. The Okeanid had considered all the places she might take
him. They dared not go to the kingdom of her father or of Nereus.
Together they would attract far more attention than she would alone, and
the large number of gods there made it too likely that word of their
presence would reach back to Mount Othrys. Neither did she trust herself
alone with him in some remote corner of the world. Few of the Titans
knew how to find the cave of Philyra and Cheiron, and so Metis
considered her sister's home a reasonably safe place to hide the boy
until it was time for them to return to Mount Othrys.

If Metis looked forward to returning to the peaceful surroundings of
Mount Pelion, Zeus did not. He had little more than hinted at the cause
of the hasty departure that had concluded his last visit there, and
could well imagine the reception that awaited his return. Metis glanced
at her companion a number of times during their flight. He was
exceptionally quiet, his usually cheerful disposition turned glum.

They traveled slowly, flying low above the treetops at a leisurely pace.
Metis timed their journey so that they reached their destination just
before sunset.

Philyra was on the ledge outside the cave as they alighted. At the sight
of Zeus her features grew stiff with outrage. "Why have you brought this
boy back here, Metis?" she demanded, eyes blazing. "I won't have him
here! Send him away this instant, or I'll drive him away myself."

Metis tried to quiet her, but the older goddess's loud protestations had
already attracted the attention of the other occupants of the cave, and
Cheiron and Dione soon appeared. Cheiron moved immediately to arm
himself with a stout club, then went to stand beside his mother.

"If you really want us to go, we will," Metis said. "But I'll have to go
with him, and I'd really prefer to stay here and visit my favorite
sisters and nephew. Can't we discuss this calmly? I know you have
complaints against this youth, but I've come to know him quite well and
think highly of him. Whatever offenses he may have committed when he was
last here, I'm sure they were committed out of ignorance."

Philyra was adamant in her refusal to allow the boy to stay, but Dione
came forward as they continued to discuss the matter. At last she spoke
too.

"Philyra, this is your home, not mine. But if my thoughts have any
weight with you, I think everyone deserves a second chance. We know what
Metis says is true. The boy himself told us from the very first that he
was a stranger to divine society. Is it fair to expect such a youth to
abide by laws he neither knows nor understands?''

Philyra resisted at first, but eventually gave in to the importunities
of her sisters. Once she relented, Cheiron grudgingly acquiesced as
well, and an uneasy truce was forged. It was agreed that Zeus could
remain on Mount Pelion and enjoy the hospitality of Philyra and her son
as long as Metfs remained there too, to oversee him, and as long as he
adhered to strict standards of good conduct.

It was dusk now, and Metis took Zeus with her as she hastened to return
Alalkomeneus to his people. They dwelt near the base of the mountain,
where food was plentiful. The tribe was small, consisting of no more
than thirty men, all of whom seemed delighted at the return of their
king. They had no permanent shelters and lived for the most part in the
open air, feasting on the honey and acorns that nature provided
bountifully for them. On those rare occasions when inclement weather
made it necessary, they retreated to small nearby caves, but were always
anxious to abandon such dank quarters as soon as possible. A number of
disputes had arisen during Alalkomeneus's absence and he immediately set
about settling them.

Neither Metis nor Zeus had slept the night before, and so they soon
returned to the cave of Philyra. There Metis asked her sister to show
them where they might rest. Still scowling at the boy, Philyra conducted
them through a narrow opening and into the series of caverns that lay
beyond.

Zeus had not been inside before. He was amazed to see how well furnished
the dwelling was, with many chairs, tripod tables, and stools, all
somewhat homely perhaps, but sturdily built and charmingly rustic. His
home on Crete, where he had lived in similar circumstances, seemed
sparse in the extreme beside these generously furnished quarters.
Philyra and her son had provided for themselves and their guests
virtually all the amenities that one would have expected on Mount
Othrys.

"You may sleep here," Philyra told him when they drew near the rear of
the innermost cavern. She pointed toward a natural alcove in one wall
where a cot had been placed. As he sat down upon it, marveling at the
softness of the mattress, Philyra led Metis away and the boy slowly
realized that he had been banished to the most distant point within the
cavern. A curve in the great wall effectively blocked his view of the
rest of the dwelling and cut him off from everyone else.

The strained relations that were the hallmark of Zeus's first day back
on Mount Pelion could not last indefinitely. Even Philyra grew less
antagonistic toward the newcomer, and by the third day he and Cheiron
were well on their way to becoming friends. Watching them, Metis was
struck by how much alike they actually looked, especially in their
facial features. The bittersweet realization left her amazed that she
had not noticed the similarity before.

Everything seemed to be progressing nicely, and Metis was left with only
one problem-the troubling reaction of Dione toward the boy. From the
moment her sister had stepped forward to defend him, Metis had sensed
something unspoken in her attitude. At first Dione carefully kept her
distance and never sought out an opportunity to speak with him, but
Metis occasionally noticed the way her eyes lingered on the youth, then
darted away in embarrassment when she realized Metis was observing her.
Zeus was aware of it too, and more than once Metis caught him watching
Dione silently. Whenever she looked up, they smiled at each other.

Metis considered jealousy one of the most distasteful of emotions, but
the rigorous honesty she practiced upon herself forced her to admit that
she was jealous. Incomprehensible longings filled her at times, so that
she wanted to throw herself at Zeus-even though she knew that would be
counterproductive in the long run. She wanted to somehow make him forget
everyone and everything but her, but always her pride and firm
self-control prevented her from indulging in such unbecoming conduct.
Again and again she attempted to attract his attention, even flirting
with him in her halfhearted, awkward fashion, but such efforts were
always futile. She simply did not know how to win his love, she decided
sadly.

They were often alone together. Metis considered it unwise to allow him
to remain at the cavern without her and therefore insisted that he
accompany her on her daily rambles through the nearby forests. Zeus
found the excursions dull and tiring, and began to enliven them with
jokes and games. Metis resisted his frivolity at first, but his
insistent good humor eventually won her over. She was soon throwing
rocks with him at distant targets, running races and playing tag.

The formality that had existed between them began to slip away, and
toward the end of their third such outing, Zeus leaned toward her
unexpectedly and kissed her quickly on the mouth. The kiss took her by
surprise, and she stood staring at him as he ran away. A number of
moments passed before she remembered that it was her turn to chase him.
When she caught him, she kissed him back. It was a discreet, almost
modest kiss-a peck at most-but immediately she regretted it. She was
afraid he would think it meant more than she intended. Turning, she
darted away, disappearing among the tall pines that surrounded them.

Zeus grinned as he watched her run. Her kiss had told him what he wanted
to know; in it she had revealed herself more fully than in all her words
and looks. He had been waiting- hoping-for some indication that she
found him attractive, that genuine passion lay beneath her too proper
exterior.

He caught her again, then fled down a narrow path and disappeared around
a turn. Metis followed and found herself unexpectedly in a small glade.
She was about to cross it and continue along the trail on the opposite
side when her attention was captivated by a flower of overwhelming
beauty, like none she had ever seen before. It grew alone amid a patch
of clover. She scanned the trees across from her in search of the boy,
then decided to rest here for a few minutes and admire her discovery.
Sitting beside the flower, she leaned over it to examine its garish
beauty more closely and to inhale its fragrance.

As her nose drew near the petals, however, she found before her not a
flower, but the handsome, smiling face of the boy Zeus. Before she could
draw back, his lips pressed against hers and his arms closed around her,
pulling her down with him to the ground. Her limbs went weak, seemed to
lose all their strength. Strange thrills shot through her at the
contact, so that she felt submerged in a sea of sensation. He drew away
for a moment, and though she certainly did not intend it, her lips
sought out his and fastened on them hungrily.

All the love that had been building inside her, and which she had been
struggling for so long to keep under control, found expression in that
kiss. Her arms encircled his neck and she pressed her body so tightly
against his that for an instant she had the odd impression that their
forms were fusing, that she could no longer distinguish where her own
body ended and his began.

Now she felt him fumbling with her clothing. The contact of his warm
hand against her bare flesh brought her back to her senses and to a
sudden realization of her situation. No!

She must not surrender to him-not here-not like this! Gasping, she
pulled her mouth from his and struggled to wriggle free from his grasp.
He tried to restrain her, but at last she managed to sit up, then got
quickly to her feet and started to back away from him.

"Please-you mustn't!" she cried. "We mustn't!"

But the expression in his eyes told her that words were useless now. As
he rose and moved toward her, she turned and fled, her open peplos
fluttering around her. Zeus followed at full speed this time, not at the
playful trot to which she had become accustomed in their games. Ahead
lay a thicket of underbrush over which the towering maiden could easily
have leaped, but she was certain that Zeus would overtake her on the
other side. As she approached the thicket, she stripped off her clothing
so that it would not trip her, then transformed herself into a hare. She
glanced back at her pursuer, then plunged into the underbrush.

Behind her, without hesitation, Zeus too cast off his natural form,
becoming instead a small red fox. The thicket presented no obstacle to
such a creature, and Metis soon found small, sharp teeth nipping
playfully at her rear legs.

A high tree loomed just ahead, and she became a squirrel, scrambling up
the perpendicular trunk and then out across a narrow limb. But to the
goddess's amazement, Zeus was every bit as adept at shape-changing as
was she. Behind her followed a larger, male version of herself, every
bit as nimble.

The foliage around her was too thick to risk flying, and the goddess now
had little doubt that her pursuer could overtake her in the air. She
sprang to the branches of a neighboring tree, then scampered back down.
She became a slender, fleet doe, leaping easily over the underbrush that
blocked her path. Just behind her came a handsome white wolf. At every
change of form, Zeus followed effortlessly, matching or surpassing each
metamorphosis.

At last she could flee no more, and he overtook her at the edge of a
small stream. As she lay there, exhausted, her natural form returned. He
took her in his arms. She tried to resist, tried vainly to push him
away, but it was useless. His arms closed around her, his lips descended
upon hers, and her will to resist melted away. Her mind told her that
she had lost, that once he had possessed her she would be no diiferent
from all the other goddesses who had succumbed or would succumb to his
charms-that he would never marry her now. But her heart did not care
about such things. It surrendered without terms or conditions. She
gasped and closed her eyes tightly. She threw her arms around the god
she loved and pressed herself against him with all her strength.

Beneath the towering pines of Mount Pelion, Metis, daughter of Okeanos,
who in matters other than those of the heart was wiser than all the
other Titans, mingled in sweet love with the raw young god from Crete,
who would one day become King of the Gods.

Nineteen

The Nymph was returning home from the vicinity of Mount Lykaion, where
she had spent the morning. Toward the bottom of one of the cool mountain
slopes she paused abruptly and called out.

"Who's there? I know you're there. I saw you a moment ago, for an
instant. Why are you hiding?"

The nymph waited tensely. When no reply was forthcoming, she called out
again. "You won't fool me by pretending not to be there. I saw you. If
you don't show yourself, I'll just go the other way.''

Now something stirred behind the tall trees. "I was afraid I might
frighten you," the voice of a god called back, and then someone stepped
into the path ahead of her.

She drew back despite herself. The god's concern was well founded; she
almost turned and fled at the sight of him. Instead she took a firm grip
on herself and stared in amazement at the ungainly figure, her eyes
flitting from his ugly face and large, hooked nose to the small horns
and shaggy goat ears that protruded from his head. As he came forward a
little, she realized that he had the legs and hooves of a goat as well.
He wore only a long, dirty rectangle of cloth, which was loosely wrapped
about him and actually concealed little of his misshapen body. In his
hands he carried many sprigs of green pine needles and what seemed to be
a wreath. As they spoke, his fingers continued braiding the sprigs
together.

She forced herself to smile at him. "Well, you are an imposing sight, I
must admit. I've never seen you before. Are you new to Arkadia?"

The god nodded, glancing up from his work. She was very beautiful, but
he was uncomfortable talking to her. He had never spoken directly to
such a being before.

"I am Syrinx, daughter of the river god Ladon. Who are you?"

The god applied two final twists to the wreath upon which he had been
working, held it up for a final inspection, then placed it on his head
with a wide, toothy smile. "I am Pan, son of Amaltheia," he said,
advancing a little closer to her.

The nymph noticed his movement and edged back up the trail.

"Yes," he continued, "I'm new to this area. I've been roving the fields
and forests, looking for my brother. You haven't seen him, have you? His
name is Zeus."

She shook her head quickly. "No, I'm sure I haven't seen anyone who
looks like you!"

The god hung his head. "Actually he doesn't look much like me. He's
quite handsome."

"Still, I haven't seen any strangers today. I haven't seen any strangers
in a long time actually, other than you, I mean," she added ingenuously.

"'You're very beautiful," Pan said. "You must have many lovers."

The nymph gasped. "Most certainly not! I have no lovers-but I do have
many suitors, if that's what you mean."

"None at all?'' Pan inquired incredulously, advancing another step
toward her.

"Certainly not. I'm not at all like the foolish nymphs you probably
know. I'm quite modest, and completely chaste. I pride myself upon that
and intend to remain so until I'm married ... if I get married, that is.
Actually, I've been considering not marrying at all, though I'm really
too young to reach a firm decision in such a significant matter. All my
suitors know and understand how I feel. I don't really care what all the
other nymphs do. You'll notice, by the way, that very few of them ever
find husbands, though they have lovers aplenty!"

"It seems a waste, though, to let such beauty go unappreciated," he
said, still not looking directly at her but continuing to edge closer,
so that now he judged that a sudden lunge would carry him to her side
before she could flee.

"Your conversation is rather forward, you know," Syrinx told him, then
let out a startled cry as he rushed toward her. The god's outstretched
arms, however, closed on empty air. She had stepped neatly aside, then
circled behind him. The maneuver was so perfectly executed and seemed so
effortless that Pan was certain she must have practiced it many times;
undoubtedly she had had many opportunities to practice it.

He followed her down the sloping path, then out across a broad meadow.
Twice he nearly had her in his grasp, only to have her slip away again.
Twice he lost sight of her completely, but eventually routed her from
her hiding place and recommenced the chase. They ran on and on, until
the god's greater stamina began to wear her down.

Ahead lay a great river-Ladon, the home of her father- and as she ran
toward it Syrinx cried aloud. "Help me! Father-sisters-anyone who can
hear, please help!"

Pan was only a few dozen yards behind and her legs were beginning to
fail. They would soon be so weak that she would be unable to run any
farther. At the river's edge she hesitated, looking in every direction,
then turned and threw herself into a bed of tall reeds, hoping to
conceal herself. As she lay there, she concentrated all her mental
energy and tried to change her form, something her father and a few of
her sisters did easily and often. It should have been a hopeless effort,
for all her previous attempts at metamorphosis had failed utterly; but
today was different.

Pan had seen her enter the marshy area near the river's edge and charged
in after her. Thinking that she might somehow be hidden beneath or among
the plants, he ripped out great handfuls and tossed them behind him.
Suddenly a low cry, like a moan of pain, made him stare down at the
bundle in his hand.

He stopped searching for the nymph, sat on the dry grass nearby, and
examined the reeds, which were among the largest he had ever seen. As he
held them, a gust of wind whistled through some of the hollow tubes,
emitting a soft sigh that reminded him very much of the voice of the
nymph. He raised one to his mouth and blew through it. Delicate,
charming music resulted. He discovered that he could make the sounds
light and airy if he liked, or clear and shrill, or deep and solemn. For
hours he remained there, on a little hillock above the river where the
nymph had disappeared, amusing himself in this fashion.

The most pleasing notes resulted when he held reeds of different lengths
close together and blew into them alternately, and so he selected and
bound together the seven most pleasing with long, tough strands of
grass. When he was satisfied with their arrangement, he began to play
the instrument in earnest, drawing from it first a long and mournful
strain that made him think of the exquisite cruelty of nymphs, who were
so miserly in bestowing their affections; and then a wild and passionate
tune, as if imploring the lovely creatures to be merciful to him.

Later, when he came upon a beehive, he stole wax and pressed it between
and around the reeds as a sort of mortar to hold them stiff and
straight, then bound them together again, still more tightly. All the
long afternoon he played, and well into the evening, as he wandered
northward, back toward the high mountains where he had last seen Zeus.
As he walked he blew upon the syrinx, drawing from it all the rich
beauty and delicate emotion of the unlucky nymph whose name the
instrument would henceforth bear.

Though Pan had claimed he was searching for his brother, that was only
partly true. He so thoroughly enjoyed the quiet, solitary beauty of the
hills and valleys that he would have been perfectly content to continue
on indefinitely even if he never found Zeus-pausing occasionally to eat,
rest, or play upon his pipes, roving across forest and glen, pursuing
the occasional nymphs that crossed his path. He was in no hurry to do
anything else or to go anywhere in particular.

Toward evening of the following day he paused near the edge of a wide
clearing, listening intently. From ahead of him, on the other side of
the clearing, came the sounds of movement among the trees. He drew back
and concealed himself. At first he thought one or more nymphs might be
approaching rapidly, but as he continued to listen he became convinced
that the sounds indicated instead many gods progressing at a steady
pace.

If he were right, something very unusual was afoot. In all the stories
Ida and Adrastia had told him, he had never heard of more than three or
four gods traveling together, at least out in a wilderness such as this.
He could not imagine a contingency that would bring together a large
number of deities in such a place, and so he drew back still farther and
crouched down to better conceal himself.

Soon a figure appeared across the clearing from him, then a second and a
third. Tall and powerfully built, with shaven heads and chalk-streaked
bodies, naked except for the bronze ornaments that adorned their wrists
and ankles, they surged out of the forest and into the open, their
fierce eyes scanning the landscape for any sign of an enemy, their long,
bronze-pointed spears held ready for thrusting.

Pan watched in astonishment. He recognized them immediately. They were
the Kouretes, the divine savages who lived on the same distant mountain
where he and Zeus had grown up. He had known them all his
life-distantly, it was true, since they were not a friendly people-and
in all that time he had never heard of them venturing from their island
home.

The sight of them always made him feel uneasy. They had always seemed to
be lurking nearby, just out of sight. He remembered an occasion when he
and Zeus had ventured too far up a precarious slope and found themselves
clinging to a sheer rock wall, unable to move without risking a
disastrous fall. At their first childish cries for help, a half-dozen of
the savages appeared out of nowhere and quickly carried them down to
safety.

But what were they doing here? He could see more than twenty of the
warriors now, with still more issuing from the forest. As he watched,
another sort of creature followed them into the clearing. Pan gasped and
began to look behind himself for some route by which he might escape.
His knees were shaking. A goat of divine proportion came forward
purposefully, halted near the middle of the clearing, and lifted its
great horned head to survey the area.

Pan held his breath, his eyes grown large with fear. Whatever happened,
his mother must not find him here! Normally Amaltheia was the most
gentle and loving of creatures, but she could display a terrible temper
at times, too-especially when her children had misbehaved. To make
matters worse, she was sure to blame him; whenever he and Zeus got into
trouble, Amaltheia was always certain that Pan was the primary
instigator-and dealt with him accordingly. He dared not even think of
the punishment she might inflict upon him this time.

The wind, as best he could tell, was blowing in his direction, and so
she probably would not be able to sense his presence by smell. But if
she found the trail that had led him here, she would almost certainly
detect his spoor-and then all the pleading and excuses he could muster
would not avail him. Great drops of sweat began to roll down his
forehead as he edged backward into the thick forest behind him.

As he retreated, the goat goddess made a slow circuit of the clearing,
her nose held close to the ground, but since Pan had not actually
entered that area she found no indication of his presence. It was dusk
now and she went to one of the warriors and bleated softly. He seemed to
understand and immediately signaled to the others. Within moments skin
tents sprang up around her as the Kouretes prepared to camp for the
night.

Amaltheia bleated again, in a shriller, more demanding tone, and from
one of the nearby trees a tiny sparrow fluttered down to land on the
grass near her front hooves. She spoke to the bird in hushed animal
sounds, and then the creature darted off, flying southward toward
distant Crete. Each evening she sent it there to discover if Zeus and
Pan had returned, and each morning it flew back to inform her that they
had not.

Now the divine beast went to a thick patch of grass nearby and trampled
it until it appeared quite comfortable. Lying down, she watched the
warriors as they completed their nightly chores.

She was very sad. The impenetrable pelt with which she was endowed
protected her from the pointed branches and brambles of the forest, but
nothing could shield her from the loneliness and despair she felt. For
weeks now she had searched the mainland, without any sign of her sons.
She yearned to rub her shoulder and side against their legs, to feel
their fingers in her thick pelt, to lavish upon them again all the love
that welled up within her at the thought of their bright, grinning
faces. And she would.

It was inconceivable that they would purposely stay away from her so
long; only by presupposing some outside force could she explain their
prolonged absence. Her dull animal mind was incapable of understanding
many things, but once she grasped an idea she never let it go. The
Kouretes obeyed her every command without hesitation, extending to her
the unquestioning devotion they had pledged long ago to the infant Zeus.
However long it might take, she was determined to find her children and
extricate them from whoever or whatever was keeping them from her. With
the Kouretes beside her, she had no doubt that she could accomplish just
that.

While Amaltheia and her entourage settled down for the night in their
comfortable bivouac, Pan sank deeper and deeper into the pathless
forest. When at last he thought himself far enough away that he could
not easily be heard, he increased his pace and did not rest until late
that night.

If he returned home on his own, he reasoned, Amaltheia's wrath would be
somewhat placated. But he could not return without Zeus. They must go
back to Crete together, or not at all. He had traveled so widely and in
such a desultory manner that he was not completely sure where they had
become separated. Somewhere to the northwest seemed most probable, and
so he set his course in that direction, even though it was quite likely
that Zeus had long ago moved on to more interesting surroundings.

As usual, Pan found many things to distract him along the way, and it
was not until many days later that he again found himself in the
vicinity of Mount Pelion.

Though he tramped up and down the lofty hills and steep valleys until
nightfall without sign of the youth, he was not overly discouraged. He
occasionally found nymphs to chase; there were cool mountain streams to
drink from and high, thick trees to lie beneath in the warm afternoons
while he played upon his syrinx. It really did not concern him overmuch
if he searched here for weeks, since these hills and forests were very
nearly as fine as any others.

On the third day he finally found Zeus-or, rather, Zeus found him. He
was lying with his back against the bole of a great tree, playing upon
his pipes, when he looked up to see a tall, handsome youth approaching.
Nearly two months had passed since they had been together, and Pan was
surprised at the diiference those months had made in his companion. The
changes were subtle and he had difficulty deciding exactly what they
were, but he knew that Zeus looked older somehow, more mature. Perhaps
he had even grown taller in that brief interim.

"I looked all over for you," Zeus said, dropping down beside him next to
the tree.

"And I, for you, brother," Pan answered, grinning back at him. "Have you
been here-nearby, I mean-all this time? I've traveled very far, and seen
many things."

"You must tell me about all your adventures. But no, I left here for a
while and went to visit the Titans on Mount Othrys-that's a place you
must see, if you haven't been there already. Aigipan," he continued, his
voice dropping to a more confidential tone, "the goddesses there are
unbelievable! Once you see them, you'll never want to bother with a
dryad or naiad again-not even an auloniad. And you don't have to exhaust
yourself chasing them through wood and dell. They invite you to their
houses and sit right down next to you. Of course it's very frustrating,
too, since you have to spend so much time just talking to them, but if
you do it right-"

Pan listened with marked interest, but when Zeus finished narrating the
marvels of Mount Othrys, he felt compelled to relate in detail the
exquisite beauty of the many nymphs he had pursued. That he had caught
none of them he neglected to point out, instead letting Zeus draw his
own conclusions.

Their visit lasted for more than an hour, interrupted at last when Zeus
heard Metis calling from a nearby hill.

"I must go now," Zeus said, somewhat awkwardly. He had spoken little of
his present life on Mount Pelion with Metis and her family, since he did
not feel free to invite Pan to join him there. He was certain Philyra
would not tolerate another guest, especially one so outlandish. He laid
an affectionate hand on Pan's shoulder. "Soon I'll return to Mount
Othrys, I think-at least I hope so. If you wish to find me again, that
would be the most likely place to look."

"Then you're not ready to return home?" Pan asked in surprise.

Zeus only shook his head.

"Mother is here on the mainland looking for us."

"Amaltheia? Are you joking?"

"No, I'm not. She's here and she has the Kouretes with her-many, perhaps
all of them, for all I know."

Zeus hung his head. "I haven't even given a moment's thought to her, or
to Ida and Adrastia. How inconsiderate I am. But it doesn't matter. I
can't return now."

Metis called again, and Zeus rose quickly to his feet, using the growing
impatience of her voice as an excuse to depart before Pan asked why he
could not return now.

"I'm sure we'll meet again soon," Pan said. "Good-bye, brother."

Zeus stared into the ugly, smiling face of his companion. He had not
thought of it before, but if Amaltheia was not really his mother, then
this shaggy, ill-formed god was not really his brother, either. The
thought made him very sad and he stepped suddenly forward to embrace
him, then turned and sprinted off before Pan could see the tears in his
eyes.

Twenty

Perhaps, Metis thought sometimes, the divine boy did indeed love her, at
least in his own fashion. He sought out her company each and every day,
and they spent long hours together talking, exploring the neighboring
woods and fields, and lying together in one another's arms.

He was really quite pleasant to be with. He had a ready wit and
displayed keen interest in many things, though his interest was usually
quickly satisfied. Where she would have happily devoted days to studying
some new problem, he spent no more than a few minutes before moving on
to some fresh amusement. At times she suspected that he actually
required no more time than that to plumb the matter in question, seeing
in a glance what it took her hours to discern. At other times she was
convinced he was merely shallow and told herself that he would
eventually grow out of his youthful impatience, that time would deepen
and perfect him. There were fleeting instants, too, when she sensed
other aspects of him. Those glimpses always left her feeling uneasy
afterward . . . inadequate and apprehensive.

He was fond of her; she had no doubt of that. She had never been in love
before, had never felt the need for love.

Now she yearned to see him mirror her own overwhelming emotions, to see
reciprocated in his face and eyes all the incomprehensible longing she
felt.

The handsome young god had awakened within her an unsuspected torrent of
needs and desires-a churning, emotional cataract, the intensity of which
terrified her and made her struggle to conceal the true depths of her
emotions, lest they frighten him away. Even when she lay in his arms she
dared not abandon herself completely to the intensity of her love.

Above all, she was determined not to worry about the future. Neither
would she concern herself with the mistakes of the past. Instead she
made up her mind to enjoy the present as fully as she could. She had
Zeus to herself, or very nearly so, and if she were ever to have a
chance of winning him for her own-completely for her own, as her
husband-this was it. Once they returned to Mount Othrys, especially
after the goddesses there discovered who he actually was, he would be
forever surrounded by divine femininity.

Even here she had to contend with competition from her sister Dione.
Many times she had caught the two of them looking at each other,
exchanging quick glances. Through an unspoken understanding Metis and
Zeus had continued to maintain a strictly proper decorum whenever in the
presence of others, and it occurred to Metis that the same might very
well be true of Zeus and Dione. The thought crushed her and made her
disconsolate.

On a few occasions Dione and the boy had been absent from the
mountaintop simultaneously, and Metis could not help suspecting the
worst. She did not really blame her sister; in fact, she would have been
surprised if Dione had not found Zeus attractive, but the thought of
them together, perhaps in the very places she herself frequented with
him, made her very sad.

When she could not be with Zeus, the Okeanid passed her time by helping
Philyra, visiting Alalkomeneus and his people, or merely wandering about
the nearby forests and hills in quiet contemplation. She tried, too, to
spend time with Cheiron. He was a quiet, introspective boy, and she
feared that Philyra's often unconcealed bitterness had left its mark on
him. He and Zeus had eventually overcome their earlier antagonism and
sometimes went off together to hunt food for the nearby tribe of
mortals, but Cheiron's only true friend was Alalkomeneus, with whom he
spent long hours whenever possible.

The weeks sped by, and far sooner than she had thought possible, it was
nearly time to return to Mount Othrys. She had brought with her the
special herb Rhea had mentioned, and a few days before their scheduled
departure she devoted a number of hours to refining and intensifying it.
Seated by herself off to one side of the cave's entrance, she held the
plant in one hand and concentrated intently upon it. Small, mushroomlike
bulbs sprouted from the tips of the stalks, thickening and growing black
beneath her intent gaze. When she was at last satisfied, she dried a few
of the bulbs in the sun, then ground them carefully in a large bowl. She
placed the resulting powder in a small pouch, which she then concealed
within her clothing, suspended by a cord from about her neck.

Their final day on Mount Pelion arrived all too soon. Before noon Metis
went to bid Alalkomeneus good-bye. Because of the attempt upon his life
she had decided he would have to remain here until she had dealt with
Menoitios and could again assure his welfare on Mount Othrys.

She carried him on her shoulder for a stroll in the nearby forest, where
they could speak privately. After she finished explaining what she had
in mind, he was quiet for some time.

"Mistress," he said at last, "I agree that it makes good sense to leave
me here among my people while you attend to your pressing affairs. But
will you promise me something, my lady?"

"If I may," she said, grinning at him. He looked even more prim and
proper than usual. "What is it, Alalkomeneus? ''

His expression became very serious. "Beware of the boy Zeus."

"What do you mean?" she demanded. "That's a very odd thing for you to
say, my friend." She set the man down atop a small hill so that she
could look directly at him.

"I have a very bad feeling about him, mistress-about you and him. I fear
you've fallen in love with him, and that such a love can only mean....
pain and heartache for you. Forgive me for speaking bluntly. I see that
my words have wounded you, and I am sorry for that. But I believe I have
spoken truly...."

She turned away from him for a moment.

"Please, my lady," he went on. "Please listen, wisest of all the gods-I
fear this god. He isn't like the other Titans and lesser gods I have
known. I think you must be able to see that, too. Please don't laugh,
mistress. I know it must sound ridiculous for a mortal such as I to say
such a thing, but remember that I am your mortal. Because of you I have
known the greatest of the gods. Proteus taught me to speak and Kronos
held me in his hand! I may be only a mortal man, my lady, but I have
eyes that see. Yours, I fear, have been blinded by this youth."

Metis's halfhearted smile died away as he continued.

"Be careful, my lady! He isn't for you, or for any one goddess. It may
already be too late, for I've been delaying telling you these things
since we came back from Mount Oth-rys. I am afraid, mistress. Unless you
separate yourself from him, I fear I will lose you-forever!"

Metis picked him up, pressed him to her cheek, then kissed him. He
looked up at her and became even more distressed when he saw her wiping
her eyes; she almost never cried.

"You may be right, Alalkomeneus. But I fear things have gone too far
already. Whatever must happen will happen."

"Please, my lady," he said, "you must heed my words. I can sense it with
every fiber of my being-you must not marry him! You will never be happy
with such a god."

"Or happy without him, Alalkomeneus! You see far too clearly for one so
small. I love him more than I've ever loved anyone or anything. But
you've little to worry about, since he doesn't seem to love me."

They visited for some time more, the goddess doing her best to lead
their conversation in a more convivial direction.

At last she returned him to his village, kissed and bid him good-bye,
then returned to the mountaintop home of her sister.

After supper she and the others gathered briefly before the entrance to
the cave. Dione, who had overstayed her intended visit by many weeks,
would leave tonight too, returning to the Kingdom of Nereus. She
embraced both her sisters and Cheiron, then hesitated a moment before
stepping boldly forward and slipping her arms around Zeus's neck. She
kissed him quickly on the mouth-a familiarity that made Philyra stiffen
and bristle, though she said nothing. Dione bid them all farewell, then
turned and flew off into the darkening sky. A short time later Zeus and
Metis left too, flying in the opposite direction.

When they reached Mount Othrys, it was quite dark. Metis led the youth
directly to the home of his mother, a relatively modest stone structure
nestled back within a carefully cultivated forest of huge oak and birch
trees. They found the Titaness at home and expecting them.

"You look well," she exclaimed, "both of you! You've taken good care of
my son, Metis. Thank you."

The Okeanid nodded her head in acknowledgment of the compliment.

"Do you have the herb?"

Metis removed the pouch from within her peplos and displayed it.

"Very good. Then all is nearly in readiness. I still await replies from
two of the gods I've petitioned, but those should come tomorrow or the
day after at the latest. Then we'll be ready to act."

"What gods, Mother?" Zeus asked.

"Those who will rear your brothers and sisters. Unfortunately they, too,
must grow up in secret. Kronos does not know which of his children is
destined to overthrow him and so fears them all. We must not allow him
to find them-or you-until it is time."

"I don't understand, Mother. Grow up? Aren't they as old as I?"

Rhea smiled sadly. "Older, in fact, for you are the last born of my
children. What a monster your father is-what a despicable creature! He
robbed me of every joy of motherhood.... except this...." She put her
arms about the youth and hugged him vigorously, as if she feared he
might be snatched from her again. "I haven't told you the full extent of
the horror Kronos has perpetrated. I don't like to talk or even think
about it, and I fear, too, that you might not believe me. Let it go for
now. You'll soon see for yourself, and understand."

"What is the situation here on Mount Othrys?" Metis asked. "Have you
managed to pacify the Titans?"

Rhea smiled wanly. "Not enough, I fear. Zeus must remain hidden until we
return from Olympos-that much is certain. Any other course would be
folly. Even then it's unlikely he'll be able to remain on Mount Othrys,
though you and I may do what we can on his behalf. Helios in particular
is anxious to locate him. He tried to find him on Crete, I
understand-though it isn't at all certain that he searched the right
island! And Epimetheus seems equally devoted to my son's apprehension
and punishment-but he isn't likely to pose much of a threat for some
time. He's managed repeatedly to get himself beaten during your absence,
by quarreling with Helios and Crios's sons. Right now he's laid up with
a bad chest wound. As long as no one knows he's returned, Zeus will be
safe here with me, though he'll have to stay hidden at all times and
must not venture outside."

She turned to look at Zeus. "Do you understand? Will you abide by these
conditions?"

The youth nodded.

A short while later Metis left them, walking slowly back to the Palace
of Okeanos, her father. Her apartment seemed very empty, and after
lighting lamps throughout it, she mixed herself a cup of nectar and
settled upon a low divan. Already she found herself missing Zeus
intensely.

Although Metis had managed to reach her apartment without being seen,
her presence there did not go undetected. One god was aware of her
return. He had been counting the days since her departure, and each of
the last few evenings had stood outside the Palace of Okeanos and peered
upward at her darkened rooms. Tonight his diligence was rewarded, first
by the many lights that shone again within the suite for the first time
in two months, then by a quick glimpse of the Okeanid as she passed in
front of one of the many windows.

In the darkness below, Menoitios indulged his malicious glee in a cruel
smile, then turned away and hurried back to his own apartment. He could
not be certain when Metis and Zeus would leave for Mount Olympos, but it
would certainly be soon. All he had to do was precede them to Kronos's
palace and inform the dread Lord of Olympos that he might soon expect
visitors of an unwelcome sort. Then Menoitios could hasten back to the
safety of his father's palace and let the monstrous Titan deal with
them.

The thought pleased him greatly. What revenge could be more exquisite
than one that did not require him to use his own hands or endanger
himself at all? He dallied for some minutes imagining the horrible
things that might befall Metis, especially after Kronos heard what he
intended to tell him. With only a little luck, he might never again have
to bear her distasteful presence. He only regretted that he would not be
able to tell anyone what had happened to her. That would be a very
difficult secret to keep.

Back in his own room, he dressed quickly, donning a richly embroidered
chiton and dark cloak. Then, cautiously avoiding contact with any of the
other inhabitants of the palace, he made his way outside again and
walked a good distance, so that none of his family might see him fly off
at this time of night and ask unfortunate questions later. He grew
hawklike wings and soared down from the mountain. It was a long journey
and he flew for many hours without resting before he reached his
destination.

At last Olympos loomed ahead of him, a range of high peaks that began
near the eastern sea and stretched inland for more than twenty-five
miles, its great bulk soaring upward nearly two miles into the sky. Now
the journey became arduous as he flew almost perpendicularly upward,
passing dark forests that clung to the sheer slopes and innumerable
streams that tumbled downward through deep channels in the rock. Still
higher the vegetation grew sparse, then disappeared completely. The air
was cold and thin. Emerging from a thick layer of clouds, he found
himself in a rocky world covered with ice and snow. The cold wind
buffeted him, piercing his light clothing and making him begin to
shudder.

As he approached the summit, he scanned the neighboring peaks, searching
out the fabled palace of Kronos. He had never seen it before, never
before visited Olympos-not, at least, since infancy. No one came here
anymore; no one wanted, or dared to.

For nearly a generation, since he had lost the allegiance of the Titans
and other gods, Kronos had lived alone in his magnificent palace,
without so much as a single attendant to serve him-the King of the Gods
in name only. Terrible stories were told of the ancient monarch, tales
that defied belief in those who had not witnessed the events themselves,
though the older Titans insisted most were true; and though they spoke
of him with abhorrence and revulsion, they spoke softly, and the careful
listener could always catch a tinge of awe in their voices. Menoitios
discounted most of that as mere exaggeration; nevertheless he rehearsed
again and again the quick speech he would shout out to Kronos when he
came upon the Titan. Once Kronos knew why he had come, he was sure the
old king would greet him as a welcome guest- perhaps even let him stay
and watch what was to happen.

Unable to locate the edifice, the youth flew eastward, toward the sea.
He was almost above the palace before he recognized it. It was
completely covered by snow and ice and seemed a part of the mountain
itself. By now morning was nearing, and in the light of the stars he
spiraled downward, settling at last outside an enormous portico.

He pulled his thin cloak more tightly about his shoulders and strode
forward, ice crunching beneath his feet. Beyond the portico were
enormous double doors, which stood wide open and led into a huge, dark
chamber. A single torch burned against a distant wall, illuminating only
a small area of the room.

Now that he was no longer flying and thereby exerting himself
strenuously, he felt the cold more intensely. The room seemed to be very
large and completely empty except for huge columns spaced at regular
intervals, but in the nearly complete darkness he could not be certain
of its size. An eerie stillness hung over it and as he worked his way
forward he began to grow more uncertain.

Who could live here? What kind of god could endure such bitter cold,
such complete loneliness? He crept forward more slowly, more cautiously,
moving toward the lone torch. The only noise was the sound of frost
crunching beneath his feet, and at every step he found himself expecting
someone to reach out of the darkness and grab him. His hands quivered as
he pulled his cloak more tightly about himself and wished he had brought
warmer clothing.

He started to tell himself that the Titans must be wrong, that Kronos
must have fled this awful place long ago; but however much he might
desire such an excuse to abandon his search, Menoitios forced himself to
go on. All he wanted to do right now was find some warm place where he
could sleep until morning. He knew he was being foolish, that he was
letting his own imagination terrify him. He had come too far to turn
back now.

His teeth were beginning to chatter. He told himself that it was only a
response to the bone-piercing cold and struggled to overcome the stark
fear that was threatening to overwhelm him. There was no reason to be
afraid. He was alone in this vast chamber. . . .

He stopped abruptly, looking toward his left. He had heard something-the
smallest of sounds, faint and indefinite, but certainly something.
Shivering, he stood completely still, watching and listening, trying to
pierce the darkness.

Now he saw it, no more than a dozen steps away-the vaguest suggestion of
something light in color, something not quite as black as the
surrounding blackness; it loomed over him, reaching high up toward the
ceiling. As he stared at it, realization flashed through him-it was a
throne, the enormous ivory throne of Kronos, and this vast chamber must
be the throne room of Olympos.

Something moved upon the throne, a darker mass against the dim gray
background, and he heard a low, groaning noise. As he watched, a figure
rose from the seat and began to come toward him. He tried to make
himself step forward, tried to force his voice to shout out to the
approaching figure. "Lord Kronos, I'm your friend," he had to tell him
before it was too late; "I've come to warn you of enemies who will be
here soon!"

But he was too frightened. His voice could not escape the clutching
tightness of his throat and chest-and the massive figure was still
coming closer out of the darkness. Menoitios stumbled away in panic, his
teeth chattering so loudly he was certain the Titan must be able to hear
them. His legs felt weak and watery, but he forced them to carry him
toward the rear of the chamber, where he could now see a dimly lit
corridor.

Just before he reached it, he turned and looked back. The figure was
more visible now-huge, larger than any god he had ever seen-and still
coming in his direction. Stifling a shriek of terror, Menoitios fled
into the corridor.

TwentyOne

Metis was not yet thoroughly awake early the following morning when
someone knocked repeatedly at the entrance of her apartment. She slipped
into her clothing, smoothing and straightening it as she hurried out
into the atrium. She opened the door to find Rhea waiting impatiently.
The Titaness made no move to enter.

"Everything is in readiness now," Rhea whispered excitedly, her entire
manner indicative of extreme excitement. "Come to my home no later than
noon, and be ready to depart directly from there."

Before Metis could reply, the goddess was gone, rushing off down the
wide, empty corridor toward the stairs.

Metis closed the door, then returned slowly to her bedroom. She pulled
off the peplos she had donned two or three minutes before, then poured
fresh water into an enormous golden bowl and began washing her face.
When she had completed her ablutions, she agonized briefly over what she
should wear; a number of intricate and attractive garments competed for
her approval, but at last she decided upon a plain knee-length chiton.
Freedom of movement, she reasoned, might be a good bit more significant
today than elegance or stylishness. To this she added a long, heavy
cloak of dark skins, which would serve to protect her from the elements;
should the need arise, it would also allow her to more easily conceal
herself among the shadows of Kronos's palace. She recovered the small
bag of powdered herb from where it hung on a wall peg, then selected a
long, razor-edged dagger from among the half-dozen weapons she kept in a
small chest. She pulled it from its plain, unornamented sheath to
examine it briefly, then attached it to her belt when she was satisfied
that it would do.

Olympos! A dozen different sensations stirred at the thought. So many
long years had passed since she had last looked upon the towering palace
of the Lord of the Titans, and yet her memory was as fresh as if it had
been yesterday. Olympos, golden emblem of a golden age-as magnificent
and overpowering as Kronos himself, the god who for vast ages had
reigned from that lofty pinnacle, wresting order out of confusion by
imposing the brilliance of his vision upon a benighted world.
Olympos-looming and oppressive, like its master. . . .

When at last she was ready, Metis repaired to the main room of her
apartment and there tried to amuse herself until it was time to go. Her
efforts were in vain, however, and after enduring nearly an hour of
bored discomfort, she rose, quickly inspected her appearance again, then
made her way to the Palace of Rhea. The Titaness had asked her to be
there no later than noon; presumably there would be no difficulty if she
arrived early.

It was a beautiful morning out, with a cool wind blowing. To avoid
attracting undue attention, she rolled up the heavy cloak and carried it
beneath one arm. She walked briskly and was pleased that she did not
encounter any of the greater gods and goddesses, who might have detained
her with their conversation. She reached the dwelling of the Titaness by
one of the less frequented paths. After scanning the surrounding terrain
to be certain that no one observed her as she approached the entrance,
she knocked and waited to be admitted.

As she hoped, Rhea had already returned from her morning errands. The
goddess swung closed the large bronze door, then led her through a small
antechamber and into the spacious central room of the building. As she
followed, Metis glanced about expectantly, thinking she would find Zeus
there. He was nowhere in sight, however. Rhea brought out a light chair
from near the wall and gestured to her guest to do the same; then the
two sat together in the middle of the atrium, beside a small fountain.

"I'm glad you've come, my dear," the Titaness said. "Waiting makes me
very agitated, especially now that my preparations are complete and I
have nothing to occupy me. Did I tell you that I received the last
answer early this morning, before dawn?"

Metis shook her head.

"Well, I did. I've found homes for all of them, Metis. Search as he
will, Kronos will be no more successful in discovering these children
than he was in finding Zeus." She laughed. Her face was glowing, and the
Okeanid found herself uncomfortable before the Titaness's unconcealed
glee; there was something unpleasant about it, something vindictive.

Zeus strolled into the room, wearing only his long cloak, which was
carelessly tossed across one shoulder. As he drew nearer, he gave Metis
a broad smile, which she warmly reciprocated.

"Come, sit with Metis," Rhea said, rising from her chair. "How slowly
the time passes!" She crossed the room and entered a deep alcove to peer
out through the tall window there.

Metis half expected Zeus to hug or kiss her, or give her some sign of
affection as soon as his mother turned away, but instead he settled
easily into the chair Rhea had vacated and sat watching the Titaness.

"Did you sleep well?" Metis asked him; it was an inane question, she
realized, but it helped her avoid blurting out, "Oh, I missed you
terribly!"-which was what she really wanted to say.

"The sun is still low in the sky," Rhea said with a sigh as she came
back toward them, "but I can't bear this waiting any longer. Son, go
dress quickly while I get the things I must bring, and then we'll
depart."

The boy rose, paced quietly across the room and disappeared down a
hallway.

"Oh, I hope I'm doing the right thing, Metis," the Titan-ess continued
once he had left them. "I've tried to remember everything that Gaia
showed me so long ago, when she let me peer into the future-but it's
difficult. The time is right, I'm almost certain of that." She shook
herself suddenly. "No, I won't allow myself to go on like this. Equal
danger lies in indecision. I've considered everything carefully and
thoroughly, and can do no better-so it must be time to act!" She turned
abruptly and followed her son from the atrium.

Zeus reappeared a few minutes later wearing a loose chiton similar to
Metis's. Over one arm he carried a heavy fur cloak, and at his waist he,
too, wore a knife.

Rhea soon rejoined them, carrying a number of small, carefully folded
blankets. "These are for my babies," she explained. "I've saved them all
these years, and now I'll finally put them to their intended use. Do you
have the herb, Metis?"

Metis nodded, touching the place where it hung concealed beneath her
clothing. Rhea led them from the atrium and down a narrow passageway.
She ushered them outside through a small, inconspicuous door at the rear
of the palace. A narrow trail wound through a thick forest, finally
bringing them to the great cliffs at the edge of the mountain top. They
were well out of sight of the other Titans now, and at Rhea's direction
they grew wings and followed her down from the mountain.

They arrived on Mount Olympos several hours later, and Metis marveled at
the ease with which the Titaness located the palace. Everything was
different now. The many terraces below the palace, where once the great
orchards and gardens of Olympos had bloomed, were a uniform white, and
on closer inspection the Okeanid could pick out the forms of some of the
dead and frozen trees. The palace, too, was completely blanketed in
snow, and Metis doubted that she could have found it by herself.

Long, narrow galleries ran along the outside of each floor of the
palace, presenting a convenient means of egress. Rhea alighted upon one
of these, just below the topmost floor. The others settled beside her
there. They paused to reabsorb their wings, then stepped through a broad
opening to find themselves in a wide corridor.

"Look," Rhea said, pointing to the frost-covered floor. "No one has trod
these passages in many years, perhaps since the day the Titans left
Olympos."

She advanced slowly, the others following a little behind her. Before an
open door she hesitated. "Look here! This door has stood open all these
years, just as I left it."

Zeus and Metis peered around her into the small chamber behind. It was
empty except for a bed.

"What are you looking at, mother?" the boy asked.

"This was my bedroom once. For many years it was my sole place of
retreat from the tyranny of your father. How small and inadequate it
looks-and was!"

"Mother, don't you think we should go on? What are we supposed to do
here? Won't you please tell me?"

She shook her head slowly, in such a way that at first he thought she
was replying negatively to his question. "How much of my life was spent
here, within this dingy little chamber."

Zeus turned toward Metis and exchanged perplexed looks with her. Rhea
entered the room now, and they waited impatiently as she walked slowly
about it, occasionally reaching out and running her fingers along the
stone walls. At the window she paused again.

"How many times I looked down from here. Below you could see the lovely
green terraces, the wide garden where the gods ate each morning ~and
evening-everyone babbling away and happy. There were so many of them
that from here it looked like a sea of gods. And I was their queen. . .
. How wonderful it was-and how terrible."

Zeus came up behind his mother and put his arms around her. "This is not
the time for memories," he whispered. "We have work to do."

She turned from the window and hugged him, then wiped the tears from her
eyes. "Yes. Let's go now," she said quietly.

They followed her back into the corridor, then up a wide stairway to the
floor above, where Kronos's personal chambers had been located. Here and
on the stairway the frost on the floors showed signs of regular passage.

"Look at the size of the footprint," Zeus said in a hushed tone,
pointing to a particularly clear impression.

Rhea nodded. "Only one god could leave such a mark. Kronos still walks
these halls."

"The prints seem mostly to go from that chamber to the stairway. The
likelihood, men, is that he's in that room, or below us elsewhere in the
palace."

"Come," the Titaness said. "I know the secrets of these rooms and can
come and go with little chance of being detected. The two of you must
hide while I search for the monster."

She pushed them into a neighboring chamber, then entered the suspect
apartment by way of an interconnecting series of rooms. Five minutes
passed, and when she reappeared she was shaking her head.

"He isn't there. We must search below."

They returned to the stairway and descended. Using the footprints to
guide them, they eventually reached the main floor of the palace.

"He must be in the great hall," Rhea whispered. "We must move with great
caution now."

They followed a wide corridor. As they drew near the throne room, Metis
stopped abruptly, laying a restraining hand on Rhea's arm.

"Wait!" she whispered. "Do you hear that noise?"

Motionless, the three listened. It seemed to be a sort of whimpering
sound, and clicking sounds too. Metis pointed ahead of them and to the
right, toward a dark alcove only a few paces from the point where the
corridor abutted upon the rear of the great hall. Clutching the hilt of
her dagger, Metis crept toward the sounds. Zeus and Rhea followed just
behind her. The whimpering and chattering became louder.

"Can it be Kronos?" Zeus asked.

Rhea shook her head. "I don't think so."

"We must find out what it is," Metis said. "We can't leave an unknown
behind us, at our backs."

Zeus nodded. Metis unsheathed her dagger and Zeus did the same. Together
they stepped toward the sounds. The corridor itself was but dimly lit
and they were forced to pause at the entrance to the alcove to let their
eyes adjust to the greater dimness. The clicking, chattering noise
increased in volume as they drew nearer, and something moved in the
darkness-cowering away from them.

"Stand still," Zeus commanded, and at the same moment he reached out and
grabbed the thing, pulling it into the corridor. As the form resolved
itself into something resembling a god, Metis grabbed hold of its other
arm.

A white face stared at them through wide blank eyes. Divine flesh
shivered convulsively beneath their hands, and teeth chattered.

"Menoitios!" Metis cried. "What are you doing here?"

"He's freezing," Zeus said. "He's so cold he can barely move."

Metis shook her head. "He may be cold but he's also terrified. Look at
him."

She was right. Stark terror was written across his face.

Rhea was looking toward the great hall. "Quiet," she warned. "Kronos is
there. I just caught a glimpse of movement upon his throne. We must
hurry."

"But what about this god?" Zeus asked. "We can't just leave him here."

"Yes, we can," Metis said. "Why do you think he's here- today? Somehow
he must have learned what we planned. He came here to betray us to
Kronos. There's no other possible explanation."

"But why? I don't even know him."

"Because he hates me."

Zeus stared at her in amazement. "He hates you that much? What a
peculiar god. Do you think he's warned Kronos?"

She shook her head. "I doubt it. He wouldn't be hiding like this if he'd
told Kronos. He'd either be Kronos's guest or his prisoner. He must have
lost his courage and not been able to bring himself to face the Titan."

"Quickly!" Rhea whispered again.

"Are you certain we should leave him, Metis?" Zeus asked.

She nodded vigorously. "We can't take him with us, and he doesn't look
as if he's likely to go anywhere by himself. We'll just have to be
watchful."

With a shrug Zeus pushed the shivering form back into the darkness and
released it. Slowly they crept toward the throne room of the King of the
Gods.

Twenty Two

The corridor ended near a rear corner of the great hall of Olympos, and
they found themselves looking out across a vast white chamber. Sunlight
flooded in the broad, tall windows. Where once had sparkled fittings and
furnishings of silver, gold, and precious gems, now everything lay
covered beneath a blanket of frost. On the other side of the broad room,
enormous double doors stood open, looking out upon a wide portico.

Toward the middle of the room, looming over this white wasteland, was
the towering ivory throne from which Kronos had ruled his world. The
intruders had halted at the rear doorway. From their vantage point they
could look across the hall at an angle, and so they saw not merely the
rear of the throne, but part of its side as well. Upon it, unmoving, sat
an enormous figure wrapped in heavy furs.

"Is he asleep?" Zeus asked in a whisper. His eyes remained riveted upon
the throne and its occupants.

For nearly a minute the three watched the figure in silence. At last
Metis said, "He certainly looks asleep. Well, we have to know. ..."
Before they could try to dissuade her, she crept forward cautiously,
moving from pillar to pillar along one side of the room until she
reached a point from which she could see the huge form clearly, though
she was reasonably certain she could not herself be seen unless the
Titan turned to face her.

He was just as she remembered him, tall and broad-chested, with enormous
shoulders-the largest of all the Titans, a giant among giants. She
shuddered at the sight of his handsome, majestic face.

Lord of the Titans they had called him, and King of the Gods; but that
was long ago, before the depths of his depravity and the full measure of
his twisted cunning had been revealed, earning him another, less
flattering title. Lord of the Crooked Paths they called him now, when
they spoke of him at all.

His eyes were closed in slumber, and as she watched his face twitched
occasionally, as if he were dreaming. Satisfied, Metis started back
toward her companions, but her foot slipped in the ice, making a sharp,
grinding sound, and she hid herself again. Kronos stirred even more,
starting to sit up.

"No more dancing," he muttered, one of his great hands swinging sideward
in a wide gesture. "Sing now-a softer song. ..." His voice trailed off.

Metis looked out from behind the pillar that concealed her. The god's
great head nodded again, and once more he seemed to be asleep. Very
carefully, watching her feet as she took each step, she made her way
back to the rear door and rejoined her companions.

"He sleeps," she whispered, "and dreams."

"You know what must be done?" Rhea asked her.

"I can guess."

"But how?" Rhea seemed to be addressing herself as much as Metis. "If
there were a goblet near his hand, Zeus might creep up to the throne and
sprinkle a little of your herb into it. But mere is none."

Metis's eyes were glittering. "There's a way, I think. Zeus must do the
deed? Is that not correct?"

"I believe so. Oh, I wish I could remember more exactly!"

"Then he must walk into Kronos's dream."

"Say what you mean. This is no time for puzzles."

"Kronos dreams of Olympos as it once was-in the days of its grandeur.
Just now he called out to his dancers and singers. If he were to half
awaken again and see a cupbearer of old beside him-proffering nectar-he
might well take the cup and drink."

"Oh, that's dangerous, Metis. If he were to awaken fully-"

"But no more dangerous than any of our other options, or merely
remaining here. Since we must be present when he takes the herb, we
can't conceal it in some jug of nectar that he may not consume for days.
And in time he will stir himself-perhaps soon. Would you rather face a
fully awake Kronos then, or hope for a half-asleep one now?"

"Let me do it, Mother," Zeus interjected. "I don't understand why we
must watch him drink-or, for that matter, why we must do this at all,
rather than simply searching the palace for the place where he has my
brothers and sisters imprisoned. But if we must, then I'd prefer to do
it quickly."

"There's a storage room nearby, as I recall, where we may find the
things we need," Metis said. "Come with me. I think I can find it."

She led them cautiously along the back wall of the chamber, pausing
briefly at each doorway they encountered, until at last she found the
entrance she sought. It was situated near the far side of the chamber.
Zeus and Rhea followed her through a narrow opening into a dingy room
illuminated by a single low window, but Zeus turned back almost
immediately and waited just within the doorway, looking back out toward
the enormous throne and the being who occupied it.

Metis and Rhea worked quickly, searching among numerous gold and silver
objects. The young goddess held up a large goblet. The Titaness, who had
uncovered a great golden tray, nodded her approval.

"Yes, they'll do admirably," she said.

They found small towels nearby and fell to dusting and polishing. When
they finished they turned their attention to the large amphorae that
stood in rows along two of the walls.

A quick inspection located both nectar and water, and with a great ladle
Rhea mixed Kronos's drink in the goblet. Then she held the vessel out to
Metis, who had already removed the pouch from within her peplos. The
Okeanid let two small pinches of powdered herb fall into the drink.

"We're ready," the Titaness told her son at last.

Zeus stepped toward them.

"Wait," Metis said. "Let me adjust his clothing. The style is all
wrong." She lifted off his cloak and laid it aside, then began to pull
and tuck the fabric of his chiton. Walking slowly around him, she
scrutinized the result, and at last was satisfied. "There. I think
that's the way they were worn then. Don't you think so?"

Rhea nodded in agreement.

"But what of his face?" Metis asked. "Is it wise to let Kronos see his
features? When he recovers, he may search for him."

"What do you suggest?" Rhea asked. "Were it possible, I would give
Kronos the potion myself so that his ire would fall on me instead, but
that cannot be. It must come from Zeus's hand."

Metis stood briefly in silent thought, then said, "Your son is adept at
many things. While we were away from Mount Othrys, I was surprised to
see how quickly he became proficient at assuming the forms of animals."
Despite her best efforts to remain impassive, her face flushed hot as
she spoke and she looked away from the boy. "I wonder if he's ever
sought to take on the appearance of another god."

Rhea turned toward her son, who was still standing just within the
doorway.

He shook his head. "Is such a thing possible? You mean to make myself
look like someone else?"

"It's possible for some gods-a few gods," Metis said. "You master so
many skills easily, I wouldn't be surprised if you could do it. Please
try. Instead of picturing in your mind the animal you wish to become,
picture the god-his face in particular, I would think. We'll soon learn
if you have this talent too."

"But which god shall I try to become?"

Metis considered for a moment. A slow smile spread across her face.
"It's a weighty decision. Whichever god you choose may well feel the
wrath of Kronos as a result. ... Yet there is one whose treachery has
amply earned him such punishment."

"Who?"

"Menoitios."

Zeus laughed, then closed his eyes. His face blurred for an instant as
his body became shorter and less muscular, and the two goddesses found
themselves looking into the soft, narrow, immature face of the youngest
son of Iapetos.

Metis was scrutinizing his new features. "It's not exactly right.
Something about the cheeks and jaw, I think-but Kronos will never notice
the difference."

"Good," Rhea said, pleased and relieved that such a convenient solution
had been found to the danger that was likely to follow her son after
today. "But can you retain the form?"

"It seems easy enough," the boy said. He turned and walked slowly around
them, as if to illustrate the completeness of his concentration. "Yes, I
can maintain it without difficulty. What about my cloak, though? It's
very cold here!" He rubbed his hands against his arms.

Metis shook her head. "You'll just have to suffer. An attendant would
never have worn such a garment while serving the king in those days. Of
course the palace was never really cold then, either. ..."

Metis handed him the golden serving tray and showed him the proper way
to hold it. When he had mastered that, she swirled the goblet a final
time to be certain the powder was well distributed, then set it on the
tray.

"Stand behind the throne," she advised, "and wait for him to stir in his
sleep. Don't be impetuous. Wait for him to move a little and mutter to
himself, for then he'll be dreaming of days gone by. Step to his side
and say, 'Your drink, my lord'-very softly. You don't want to arouse him
too much from his slumber. Let him take the drink, then step quickly
away. You must be alert, too, for any sign of full wakefulness and any
indication that he realizes something out of the ordinary is happening."

Zeus was growing impatient at what he was starting to consider the
excessive concern of the two goddesses. He resented being told the
obvious, as if he were so young that everything had to be laid out for
him in painstaking detail. He started to step out into the great hall,
but Rhea rushed forward, threw her arms about him, and kissed him. She
released him only reluctantly. When she stepped away Metis took her
place. Unable to restrain herself any longer, she kissed and hugged him
too, though in a far less motherly way. Then she turned quickly away,
unable to watch him walk into such danger.

The throne room seemed very still as he crossed it. He was surprised to
realize that however softly he walked, he could still hear the frost
crunch beneath his sandals. He traveled first along the rear wall, then
directly up the middle of the room, so that he approached the throne
from behind, shielded from view by its great bulk. He came to a stop
just behind it, and waited there. So still was the great hall that had
he not kept watch while Metis and his mother had prepared the goblet, he
might have thought Kronos had left the chamber during their absence. His
own breathing seemed impossibly loud in the total silence that
surrounded him, and he sought to quiet it lest he betray himself.

Without his cloak, he was very cold. Despite Metis's objection, he
wished he had worn it. After all, he could have let it slip from his
shoulders before stepping from his hiding place. Instead he must remain
here, shivering. He began to wonder if his legs would respond reliably
when it was time to offer the goblet.

Still there was no sound from the other side of the throne. Zeus waited
impatiently, shifting his weight back and forth between his numbed feet.
By now he decided that he must have been waiting for a very long time
and that he could endure the cold no longer. He must do something.
Reaching out, he slowly scraped the sole of one of his sandals against
the bottom edge of the throne. Immediately he was rewarded by a low,
indefinable sound that probably represented the stirring and shifting of
a great weight upon the huge seat. He waited nearly a minute, then
repeated his action.

This time he heard a sudden intake of breath, then a low grunt. There
were more obvious stirring sounds now, and then a deep, wavering voice
said, "Speak up, Crios-all the gods are listening!"

At the last moment Zeus remembered to once again fix the visage of
Menoitios firmly in his mind; he was not certain, but it might well have
faded from him while his thoughts were elsewhere. Then he took a deep
breath and stepped around the side of the throne, thrusting the golden
tray ahead of him.

"Your drink, my lord!" he said quietly, letting his eyes dart upward for
an instant.

Upon the throne sat an enormous god-at least a head taller even than the
largest of the Titans Zeus had seen. Thick black hair hung like a mane
nearly to his shoulders, merging in places with the curls of his full
beard. Dull gray eyes looked Wearily toward the boy, blinking and trying
to focus upon him. The face had once been handsome, Zeus realized with
surprise, and still might be under different circumstances.

At last the god seemed to see the goblet, and an enormous arm appeared
from beneath a heavy cloak of skins and wavered in its direction. Zeus
moved closer, maneuvering so that the great hand more easily found what
it sought. Then the boy bowed his head and stepped back out of sight
behind the throne.

He was far too curious to remain there, however, and when he had allowed
ample time for the Titan to look away, he edged back around until he
could see the side of the god's face.

As Zeus watched Kronos gulped down an enormous draft of the liquid, then
slowly lowered his hand until the goblet rested on the arm of the
throne. He was not yet fully awake, but soon would be; that was clear as
he continued to blink and rub his eyes, yawning now and sitting more
upright. Within moments-if Metis's herb did not do its work promptly-the
Titan would realize that something quite unusual had occurred, and when
he did ...

It happened quickly. One moment the Titan was still yawning and
stretching; the next his eyes snapped completely open, shining and
alert. At almost the same instant the giant swung around to look after
the new cupbearer who had appeared so unexpectedly at his side. Zeus had
no warning, no time to duck back into concealment. Instead he found
himself looking into the face of the Lord of the Crooked Paths.

"Come here, boy," a deep, level voice commanded.

Zeus caught himself and somehow overcame his instinct to run; he even
managed not to betray his companions by casting a frightened glance
toward them. He forced a pleasant smile to his lips and stepped boldly
forward.

"Yes, my lord?"

Now the eyes bored into him, probing. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

For an instant Zeus wondered if his true features were still concealed
beneath the semblance of Menoitios; in his excitement, they might easily
have slipped away. A quick glance down at the slender arms and hands
protruding from his chiton reassured him. "I am your new cupbearer, my
lord, come to serve you here on-"

He got no further. As he spoke the god's expression changed again,
became pained; with one hand he clutched at his abdomen. A gasp escaped
him, and then he rose up and stepped down from his throne.

"What have you fed me?" he demanded, moving after Zeus.

He towered over the youth-but only for a moment. Before he could take a
second step he groaned loudly, then doubled over, clasping his great
arms across his belly. Zeus stepped back and watched in horror. The
god's eyes were watering and he was making gagging sounds deep inside
his throat. Still Kronos staggered forward, reaching out one hand to
grasp Zeus, but the boy easily backed out of his reach.

Now Zeus became aware of Metis and Rhea, who had come forward from the
little room at the rear of the chamber, where they had been watching.
Kronos halted, staring up at his wife.

"You!" he cried, his face contorted in pain.

Rhea stood beside her son, looking tall and regal, a grim, disdainful
smile on her thin lips. "Yes, husband, it is I, and the son I hid from
you. Now-give me back my other children!"

As if in answer to her command, the great chest and abdomen of the
enormous deity began to convulse, throwing up first the nectar he had
just consumed, then a little food. Spasm after spasm shook him, and for
a few moments it seemed as though his gigantic body were struggling to
turn itself inside out. He moaned horribly, and then his chest and neck
began to swell, to bloat. He coughed and choked, the swelling moving
upward, toward his head. His mouth opened wider and wider-impossibly
wide-and something dark appeared in it. Metis started toward him,
holding open one of the blankets Rhea had given her, but the other
goddess restrained her. Another spasm shook the Titan, and the dark
thing tumbled out, striking the floor heavily.

"It is the stone with which I deceived him," Rhea said. "Wrapped in a
blanket and bearing the phantom image of an infant, I gave it to him to
devour-instead of his newborn son, instead of-him!" She gestured toward
Zeus.

Kronos was on his knees now, panting, and when his convulsions began
again, Metis darted forward with her blanket. A second object appeared,
and she caught it before it struck the floor-a purplish thing, so
shriveled that it no longer resembled anything divine. While Metis
gently laid her burden upon the floor behind them, Rhea stepped closer
to the Titan, blanket ready. Through watering eyes Kronos recognized his
wife and vainly sought to grab her, but another spasm seized him and put
an end to such efforts. A second shriveled, purplish thing appeared,
which Rhea caught and bundled in her blanket.

"What are they?" Zeus gasped in horror, afraid that he already knew.

"These are your brothers and sisters," the Titaness told him. "Here
before you is proof of your father's madness. He knew that one of his
children was destined to overthrow him, and so as each child was born he
took it from me and in secret crammed it down his hideous throat. He
devoured them, but could not consume them-for they are divine. He made a
prison for them of his own body, from which they could never escape
without his knowledge. All these long years they've remained there
inside his horrible gullet-shrunken, withered, but still alive-immortal
and waiting to be freed."

When Kronos had disgorged the last of the six objects, Rhea said, "We
must go quickly now, before he recovers."

Metis shook her head. She was looking at Kronos, who lay face down on
the floor. Even though he was still very large, he looked smaller now,
deflated. "He won't recover soon. I assure you of that."

"Nevertheless, I won't feel safe until we've gone far from this dreadful
place. You and I must each carry two of the babies." She turned toward
Zeus. "You must carry one, and the stone. It saved you from sharing
their fate, and so made their rescue possible. It must be preserved for
future generations to see, that the hideous crimes of your father may
never be forgotten."

As they were preparing to leave, Zeus noticed someone entering the great
hall from the rear corridor. It was Menoitios. Somehow he had gathered
the courage to leave his hiding place and now he stumbled toward them,
teeth still chattering. He reached the throne before he saw Kronos.
Stopping abruptly, he stared down at the god wallowing upon the floor.

Rhea led Zeus and Metis silently toward the great golden doors and the
portico beyond. "Leave him here," she whispered.

Zeus glanced back from the doorway. Kronos was still moaning, and once
again he tried to raise himself up. For an instant his eyes cleared and
he saw Menoitios. With a cry like an enraged animal the Titan lunged
across the floor toward the god he mistook for his treacherous new
cupbearer. His huge hand closed around the youth's ankle and yanked him
from his feet. Menoitios began to scream and kick, but his efforts to
free himself were useless. Slowly the Titan pulled him closer.

"Come!" Rhea said insistently, and Zeus turned to join the others.
Outside they grew wings and flew after her down the mountainside.

TwentyThree

Rhea led them to a warm spring nearby. There, kneeling beside the
bubbling water, she bathed the infants one by one. She worked slowly,
examining, caressing, and fawning upon each in turn. From a pouch that
had been concealed within her clothing she produced ambrosia and forced
a little into each tiny mouth. Metis dried and wrapped them in clean
blankets. It was nearly night by the time they finished.

"There's much to do," the Titaness told her companions. "We must
separate if we are to complete the task before morning. I've found homes
for each of these lovely babies, where they may grow up in safety, far
from both Olympos and Mount Othrys. They'll be safe enough, even without
careful guardianship such as the Kouretes provided you, my son."

"Guardianship? You mean the Kouretes were my guards? I never knew!"

"You were not to know. At first I had planned to visit you as often as I
could, but I soon realized that would be too dangerous and the decision
was made to let you grow up thinking yourself the son of Amaltheia. That
way you could not even betray yourself. The Kouretes were always near
you, just out of sight...."

"Metis and I will each transport two babies to their new homes," she
continued. "Zeus, you will carry the fifth. On your way you must deposit
this stone on the slopes of Mount Parnassos, that it may be found there
in a future age."

Now she turned toward the Okeanid. "Your mother has agreed to rear one
of my children for me, Metis, as has your sister Doris. You must select
two of them-I leave the choice to you-and be on your way as quickly as
possible."

"But where will we meet afterwards?" Metis asked quickly, glancing
toward Zeus.

"You may return to Mount Othrys without fear, I think," the Titaness
answered slowly. "I doubt that Kronos recognized you. Zeus and I,
however ... He may well seek me out as soon as your herb no longer
troubles him. If he finds me ..." She shrugged. "I fear nothing now. But
how long do you think that will be before Kronos recovers?"

"A week at the very least. A few weeks are more likely. He should have
slipped into unconsciousness soon after we left him, and probably won't
even stir for most of that time."

A grim smile formed on Rhea's lips. "Good. Zeus, of course, must not
return to the home of the Titans."

"But I want to go back to Mount Othrys!" Zeus interjected.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, my son. I've thought the matter over more
fully since we spoke of it last. No amount of argument will serve to
assuage the anger of Asterie's father or of Helios. To return there-"

"No!" the boy said firmly. "I won't let them drive me off. I want to
live on Mount Othrys, at least for a while longer, and I shall!" He
paused for a moment, realizing that such an outburst would not sway his
mother, then moved closer to the Titaness and slipped an arm around her.
"Please, Mother, don't ask me to leave again, so soon. I know you want
me near you and that's where I want to be. Don't deny us both what we
want. If I must, I can keep myself hidden within your palace."

Rhea grimaced, waving him away with one hand. "Don't ply me with your
coy flattery. No, it's impossible. It's far too dangerous."

"Would it not be wiser if we talked of this tomorrow?" the boy asked.
"Certainly we'll both be safe there for a day or two, while we settle
our plans for the future."

"You're right," Rhea agreed, glad to postpone further discussion of a
topic she found distressing. "We have more pressing matters to attend to
tonight." She turned toward Metis. "We'll each return to Mount Othrys.
It would be best if we met in one place, so we'll know we've all
returned safely and not have to go back and forth across the
moun-taintop seeking one another. My home seems most suitable. If you
arrive before we do, my dear, please feel free to enter and refresh
yourself in whatever way you like."

Metis selected two of the infants, then flew off into the darkening
night. She went first to the Kingdom of Nereus deep below the waters of
the Aegean, where her sister Doris was queen. Shortly before reaching
her destination, she realized that it might not be prudent to fulfill
her mission too openly, and so she lost much time in stealth. The great
coral palace swarmed with golden Nereids, the beautiful daughters of
King Nereus and Queen Doris, and eventually two of them discovered her.
Metis swore them to secrecy, then let them conduct her surreptitiously
to their mother. While Doris and the Nereids cooed over the infant,
which had now lost its purplish cast and begun to become quite
appealing, Metis slipped away.

She swam quickly to the surface of the sea. There she discarded the fish
tail and fins she had assumed to facilitate her journey and grew wings
again, then flew toward the west and the Kingdom of Okeanos, which lay
in the deep flowing ocean at the edge of world. She flew rapidly, for
the distance she had to cover was great, and reached the palace of her
father shortly before midnight. Here she knew her way with perfect
assurance and went directly to the bedchamber of her mother.

Lovely Tethys awakened at her soft call and sat up with a pleased cry as
she recognized Metis and the blanket-wrapped bundle her daughter offered
her. A gentle smile spread across her face and she took the infant in
her arms. Metis lingered with her mother briefly, but the Titaness asked
many questions that were better left unanswered and soon the Okeanid
excused herself and swam rapidly away, promising to return soon.

It was nearly morning when she reached Mount Othrys, having completed
her journey more rapidly than she had expected. Entering the Palace of
Rhea through one of its upper windows, she made her way down a broad
stairway to the atrium below, calling aloud as she descended. No one
answered. By the time she reached the ground floor, she was certain that
Zeus and Rhea had not yet returned.

She found nectar and ambrosia, and while she waited, expecting them to
appear at any moment, she sat near the little fountain in the middle of
the atrium and ate. She was tired, but too excited and anxious to sleep
now. As she ate she began to ruminate upon the future.

Eventually Kronos would recover, and their intrusion upon Olympos might
well stir the Lord of the Crooked Paths from his long years of lethargy.
That did not bode well for anyone, but Zeus in particular would be in
danger. If Kronos ever set his mind to finding the child destined to
occupy his throne, Zeus would find no safe haven in all the world.

As she finished eating, she made up her mind. Internal debate and long
conjecture were unnecessary; she knew what she would do-even if it was
not the wisest choice. Her heart compelled it. She would follow the god
she loved into hiding, go wherever he must go ... if he would have her
with him . . . even if he was not willing to make her his wife. The
thought saddened her a little. Though she had not thought overmuch about
it, she had always taken for granted that someday she, too, like so many
of her sisters, would have a grand wedding in the great palace of her
father....

She shrugged, casting off the thought. She loved Zeus. That was more
important than anything else, more important than what her family and
friends might think or say. She was prepared to sacrifice everything for
that love . . . if he would only give her the opportunity. Besides, she
thought more cheerfully, by going with him now he might in time come to
love her as thoroughly as she loved him, and then anything might be
possible-even a wedding.

Zeus and Rhea had still not returned, and Metis found herself growing
sleepy. She crossed the room and lay down upon a low divan, intending
only to rest more comfortably. Within a few minutes, however, she was
fast asleep.

When she finally awakened, it was late in the afternoon and Rhea stood
beside her.

"We've let you sleep as long as we can," the Titaness said pleasantly,
"but now that Zeus and I have had a little sleep, too, we really need to
talk some sense into my son. He still insists that he'll remain here on
Mount Othrys."

Metis sat up, rubbing her eyes and looking about in momentary confusion.
Zeus was beside her too.

"Mother wants me to go away tonight. You don't want me to go, do you?"

Metis was flustered. She stood up, straightening her hair and clothing,
then followed the others back toward the fountain, where they sat
together and talked.

"He won't listen to reason," Rhea said. "It's difficult to refuse such a
child anything, but I'm very concerned about him. It's far too dangerous
for him to remain here. Now that I've had time to consider, I've thought
of an excellent place where he can live in complete safety. I won't tell
you where, since secrets are always safest when not shared. Won't you
help me convince him?"

Metis's heart sank at the Titaness's words. It seemed clear that Rhea
was not going to suggest that the Okeanid accompany her son.

"Mother, please," the divine youth interrupted before Metis could
answer. "I've been cooped up away from everyone and everything for most
of my life. How can you be so cruel as to send me away again, after I've
only just discovered how wonderful life can be? I've only just met my
own mother. Don't you want to be able to have me near you?"

"It isn't I who made it impossible for you to remain on Mount Othrys,"
the goddess reminded him pointedly. "I didn't terrorize poor Asterie."

The boy hung his head for a moment. "I've already told you I'm sorry. I
know it was foolish, but it wasn't completely my fault. If her gown
hadn't accidentally-"

"We've been through all that," Rhea said sharply, preventing him from
expounding more fully on the subject. "Whatever the cause and whoever
was at fault, the fact remains that grave harm will befall you if you're
discovered here by some of the Titans. However much I want you to be
with me, I can't let my selfishness endanger you."

"Then you want me to act like a coward. Am I to let the likes of Helios
chase me away? You say I'm someday to become King of the Gods. Shouldn't
I begin to act in a manner appropriate to such a destiny?"

Rhea put her arms around her son and held him tenderly. "There's much
truth in what you say-but not now! You're not yet fully grown, and many
things still must occur before that day arrives. You must be patient-and
prudent!"

"No!" the youth cried, stamping his foot. "You're asking too much,
Mother. And your fears are exaggerated. Kronos doesn't know who I am. He
knows neither my face nor my name, so I have nothing to fear from him.
As for the Titans-well, as long as they don't know I'm here, they can't
do me any harm either."

Rhea looked puzzled. "What do you propose? Do you really mean you'd be
satisfied to spend all your time here, within this palace?"

"I'll stay here with you, Mother, or with Metis, whichever you think
best. As much as possible, I'll venture out only at night, and when I
do-I'll wear the appearance of some other god. Just as I impersonated
Menoitios back on Mount Olym-pos to deceive Kronos, I can impersonate
other gods here, to deceive my enemies on Mount Othrys. Now tell me,
what flaw can you pick in that plan?"

"It's preposterous, that's all," Rhea said, laughing despite herself.
"You'll never get away with such a thing. You'll be discovered, probably
the first time you try it." She looked at Metis. "What do you think?"

Metis's heart leaped; here was a way she could keep Zeus near her.
"There are risks," she replied cautiously, "but such a plan might
succeed, at least for a while."

"You see," Zeus said. "Even Metis agrees. Now let's have no more
arguments over this, dear Mother."

Rhea was far from convinced, but the boy refused to be swayed. "All
right," she said grudgingly, "we'll let you try your mad scheme. But at
the first indication that your disguise has been pierced-or the first
time you get into some new trouble-you must leave. Is that understood?"

Zeus nodded and kissed her.

When no one else brought up the matter of where Zeus would stay, Metis
at last broached the subject herself.

"The only danger in his staying with me," Rhea said, "is if Kronos
should come here. But since he thinks his son looks like Menoitios, Zeus
should be safe enough. Of course you may come and visit us as often as
you like, my dear."

The Okeanid's hopes plummeted, but she managed not to show her
disappointment. A short while later Zeus left the atrium, but returned
as Metis was herself preparing to depart. To her surprise he had changed
into a fresh chiton and cloak, and obviously planned to go out himself.
Metis held her breath, wondering if he intended to walk her home and
perhaps remain there with her for a while. But once again her hopes were
dashed.

"Where are you going?" Rhea demanded.

"I do have some other friends here on Mount Othrys," he answered. "Not
everyone was delighted to see me leave so abruptly."

Pausing before them, the youth turned away for an instant; when he swung
back around, his face and form were completely different. Now they
looked upon the narrow face and slender body of Menoitios.

"Well?" he demanded, grinning at them. "Do you think anyone will be
suspicious of me? Look at this!" His form and features blurred, then in
quick succession Helios stood before them, then Pallas, then Perses.

Rhea shook her head in dismay. "You do have an uncommon ability, my son.
I know of but two other gods who could do as well-and you've only begun
to practice this talent. But you still haven't answered me. Where are
you going tonight?"

"I haven't answered, Mother," he said in the form of Prometheus,
"because I'm not certain yet." A moment later Epimetheus continued, "It
depends partly on who's home, and alone-free of the company of other
gods that I might not be able to trust."

"But may you trust anyone here? I'm not at all sure you may.''

Now the familiar, handsome features of her son returned, an almost
condescending smile on his lips. "If I misjudge anyone and am betrayed
to my enemies, then I'll be forced to flee, I suppose. But I'd rather
flee then-when it's truly necessary-than now, when it isn't."

The Titaness was still shaking her head. Zeus gave her a quick kiss,
waved good-bye to Metis, and sprinted toward the outer door. When he was
gone, Metis rose too and made her departure, walking a good bit more
slowly. As she left the Palace of Rhea, she was surprised to find that
it was already night again.

She loved Zeus completely and hopelessly-and hated herself for loving
him. Friends indeed! She could well guess where the wanton youth hoped
to spend his evenings, and with which goddesses. Back in her apartment,
she threw herself face down upon her bed and wept until sleep claimed
her.

Twenty-Four

For hours Menoitios had covered within his hiding place off one side of
the corridor that led to the great hall. When Metis and the other gods
left him, he wanted to follow them-to rush into the great throne room
and betray their presence to the Lord of Olympos, but his uncooperative
legs refused to function. Cold and fear held him paralyzed, and he
waited, listening.

For a long time he heard nothing, but at last there was a loud groaning
sound and then voices. The sounds roused him, and he struggled to regain
control of his body. Unless he acted now-immediately-all his efforts
would be in vain. He stumbled from his hiding place and out into the
corridor.

When he reached the doorway he saw Metis and Rhea standing near the
throne and advanced toward them with halting steps. Zeus was nowhere in
sight, but a god with oddly familiar features stood watching the
goddesses. The throne obstructed his view until he was very close, and
then at last he saw the Titan king. He lay face down upon the floor in a
great pool of vile yellow-brown liquid. As Menoitios came to a startled
halt, the god groaned horribly and looked up at him through watery,
unfocused eyes. His huge face had turned a sick, greenish color and was
contorted in pain; dark strands of thick, viscous liquid clung to his
nose and mouth and dripped from his chin. By now it was too late to
retreat; the god's hand closed upon Menoitios's ankle, pulling him to
the floor, and the youth began to shriek in terror.

As he went down, Menoitios twisted and kicked wildly, turning on his
stomach and sinking his fingernails into the thick frost in an effort to
somehow grip the edges of the flagstones beneath and drag himself away.
Again and again he kicked at the giant hand with the heel of his free
foot, but could not dislodge it. The fingers were locked there, gripping
him with the strength of bronze bands. Inch by inch, Kronos drew him
inexorably closer.

The effort was too much for him, and at last Menoitios slumped flat upon
the icy floor, cursing Metis. He lay perfectly still, eyes closed,
listening and waiting. What Kronos intended to do to him he dared not
even imagine, but if he ever managed to return to Mount Othrys he would
hunt down that detestable goddess and repay her tenfold. Somehow he
would be revenged upon those responsible for his predicament.

As he lay there, he eventually realized that Kronos was no longer
pulling him closer. Raising himself up on his elbows, he twisted around
to look toward his feet. The Titan was very still now. His eyes were
shut and his head rested upon the floor. He seemed to be sleeping.

Menoitios grinned. He sat up slowly, then slid closer to Kronos and
began to pry at the Titan's enormous fingers. He could not move them.
Shifting his position, he edged still closer and tried again. Still they
would not open. He jerked his leg away as forcefully as he could. When
that failed to break the iron grip, he slipped off his other sandal and
sought to insinuate the toes of his free foot between his captive ankle
and Kronos's palm, so that he could more effectively push and pry. It
was useless. The fingers of the Titan would not budge. Even in
unconsciousness, they were unmovable.

Now a different sort of panic claimed him-a slower, more pervasive type.
It settled in slowly as the full realization of his situation became
evident. He was trapped. He would have to remain here, without food or
drink, until Kronos regained consciousness, however long that might be.
And then . . . what?

Menoitios shuddered. Such a wait, in constant dread of what would happen
when Kronos did awaken, was more than he could bear, and once again he
set himself to trying to pry apart the giant fingers, but it was a
useless effort. His own hands were shivering from the cold and seemed
nearly frozen; his fear and frustration had built to the point that he
was near tears. It would be better, he thought, to waken Kronos now-at
whatever cost-than to go on like this indefinitely. If he could arouse
him, he might be able to pull himself free during the Titan's first
moments of disoriented wakefulness. If he were lucky and fast, he might
be able to slip from his grip and stagger out of the great hall before
Kronos could act.

He leaned toward the god's torso and poked at him. He poked gingerly at
first, then more forcefully, prodding and finally pounding on the
enormous chest. His efforts failed to elicit even a low grunt from the
unconscious deity.

Menoitios was sobbing now, and he turned to vent his frustrated rage on
the god's face, striking it again and again with his clenched fists and
screaming at the insensate features.

Still the Titan refused to stir.

It was nearly night, and already quite dark and difficult to see within
the great hall. For some moments the youth lay upon his back again,
exhausted, but then he sat up and leaned across the body of the Titan,
pressing and probing along the far side, where he could not see. He had
neglected to bring a knife with him, but if Kronos wore one and he could
find it, it was possible that he could hack off the massive hand.
Certainly those fingers would relinquish their grip then-and even if
they did not, he could carry the hand away with him, to be cut free at
his leisure back on Mount Othrys. Even the unthinkable seemed reasonable
here: If the Titan's bones were too hard, he would cut off his own foot
to escape. Somehow he must free himself.

But there was no knife, and again he collapsed back against the icy
stone floor. He was hungry and thirsty-very thirsty- but he knew that he
must not think about food and drink; that would only make his discomfort
even more intense. The room grew still darker, until at last he was
unable to see the huge figure at his feet. He straightened his cloak as
best he could, pulling it around him so that it covered the largest
possible portion of his body, and tried to sleep.

As he lay there, he brooded upon the events that had led to his
situation. Eventually he remembered the oddly familiar god with Metis
and Rhea, and began to wonder where Zeus had gone. As he continued to
ponder, the face of the strange god troubled him more and more, until at
last he realized where he had seen it before-in his own mirror. It
looked different there, of course, as mirror images always do, and for
that reason he had not immediately recognized himself.

Slowly he began to understand what must have happened. Like Proteus and
a few other gods, Zeus must be capable of assuming the appearance of
others. There could be only one reason he would do that here, and that
was to misdirect the wrath of Kronos-toward Menoitios!

Now Menoitios understood why Kronos had glared at him with so much
anger, why he had expended his last bit of energy lunging after him.
Because of Zeus, the Titan had mistaken him for one of his attackers.
That was why he was a prisoner now, freezing in this dreadful room.

Lying in the darkness, the youth wept in fury. Even more than Metis,
Zeus was the cause of his trouble. His crime was intentional and
extreme, and his punishment must be equally extreme. The Cretan god must
be crushed.

When he awakened it was morning. The cold had penetrated every part of
him, even his mind. For a long time he lay immobile, barely aware, but
at last he roused himself enough to try again to pull his foot free from
the restraining hand of the Titan. Those awful fingers were still there,
still wrapped about his ankle. Having determined that, he fell back and
slept again.

All day he slipped in and out of semiconsciousness. Darkness returned,
then daylight came again. Sleep was very pleasant. There were few dreams
to trouble him, and he felt the cold and hunger less when he slept.
Occasionally he would remember why he was there and try to pull his foot
free; but as soon as he felt the restraint of the Titan's hand he
abandoned the effort and let himself drift back into pleasant
unconsciousness. He liked the nights best, because they were less
intrusive and did not compel him to remember where he was.

Days passed-how many he could not hope to guess-and eventually he even
ceased to test the divine bands that held him. His limbs had grown so
stiff that it was painful and difficult to move them, and it seemed a
pointless effort, since the result was inevitably the same....

Another day came. Lying upon his back with his eyes barely open and
looking vacantly upward toward the vast ceiling of the chamber, a
vagrant memory came to him, reminding him of where he was and why he
remained there. The thought startled him into greater wakefulness and he
undertook the effort yet again, contracting his unwilling leg muscles
and pulling his foot slowly toward his body. Each moment he expected to
meet the familiar restraint of Kronos's unmovable fingers, but this time
was different.

Consciousness returned more fully now-abruptly-and he struggled to raise
himself up so that he could look. His body resisted, but at last he
managed to peer toward his feet.

He was free! The Titan lay in a different position. He had stirred
during his long sleep and turned on his side, in the process releasing
Menoitios's ankle and drawing his arm up under his huge head.

It was difficult to think-to remember everything. Slowly the young god
pushed himself up to his knees, then to his feet. They refused to
support him, and he slipped back to the floor. He must have food. Was it
his imagination, or did his limbs look thinner than when he had entered
this room? With full wakefulness his hunger returned in earnest, and he
began to look about the huge chamber. Certainly Kronos must keep food
somewhere nearby.

Crawling to the throne, Menoitios pulled himself up and stood unsteadily
beside it, surveying his surroundings. When he failed to discover within
the great hall what he sought, he turned his attention toward the rear
doors and set out in that direction, tottering. More than once on the
way he fell and had to laboriously regain his feet.

Eventually he found nectar in one of the rear rooms, and slumping into a
chair he commenced to fill his stomach. The imperishable fluid revived
him and within an hour he felt strong enough to depart.

Crossing the great hall again, he paused near the fallen Titan, drawing
back a foot to give the god a parting kick in the face; but he changed
his mind before delivering the blow, which might have awakened Kronos,
and spat upon him instead. Then he continued out through the great
double doors to the portico. A glance at the sky told him that it was
late afternoon. Commanding large hawk wings to grow from his back, he
flew down from Mount Olympos.

It was night when he reached his destination. During the long trip, with
his mind clear again for the first time in many days, he had considered
his possible courses of action. He could revenge himself upon Zeus and
Metis without any assistance, but that might take too long to
accomplish. He was anxious to act against them immediately, and Zeus was
conveniently vulnerable in at least one area. He flew first to the
palace of his father, where he made his way surreptitiously to his own
apartment, devoured a bowl of ambrosia, cleaned himself, and donned
fresh clothing.

Then he left again, as stealthily as he had come, and went to the Palace
of Okeanos. Assuming the form of a hawk, he alighted on a ledge outside
the apartment of Metis to watch and listen. After some minutes he
succeeded in establishing that the Okeanid was at home and alone.

Still in avian form, he flew next to the Palace of Rhea. When he found
that he could learn little without entering, he flitted into one of the
rooms and reassumed his natural shape, then crept forward until he heard
voices. Peering around a doorway, he found the Titaness talking with
Zeus, who seemed to have recently returned from an outing and was about
to go out again. He listened with interest as Rhea warned her son about
the ever increasing danger he faced of being discovered, then watched as
Zeus took on the appearance of a lesser god of the Palace of Atlas,
waved good-bye to his mother, and left the building.

Silently Menoitios slipped back the way he had come. He flew again to
the Palace of Okeanos, where he resumed his own form and recovered his
clothing from the place where he had left it, then hurried on foot to
the Palace of Hyperion.

A sullen functionary finally responded to his repeated pounding at the
great bronze door and peered out in annoyance. Only then did he realize
that it must be later than he had guessed; nevertheless he persisted and
asked to see the son of Hyperion. Muttering, the god led him inside and
left him to wait in the atrium.

The attendant returned a short while later to inform him that Helios
would be down eventually. The wait turned out to be considerable, and
Menoitios paced the wide chamber, still trying to work the remaining
stiffness out of his muscles. Finally a tall figure came toward him from
a stairway near the rear of the atrium, walking briskly.

Since the disappearance of Zeus from Mount Othrys nearly three months
before, Helios and his comrades had pursued their schemes against
Iapetos and his children with only lukewarm interest. Epimetheus's
inept, almost farcical attempts to revenge himself upon them provided a
reliable outlet for their ill will, and Helios had grown increasingly
dissatisfied with the meekness of their efforts. For some time now he
had been focusing his thoughts instead upon finding some bolder plan
that might more quickly unseat Iapetos as leader of the Titans and
elevate his father Hyperion to that station. The unlikely visit of
Iapetos's youngest son intrigued him, and as he strode toward him he
wondered if the youth's presence might presage some new and unexpected
opportunity.

The older Titan halted within a pace of his visitor, placed his hands on
his hips, squared his shoulders, and stared down haughtily. "So you've
reappeared at last, son of Iapetos? Did your brothers find you? I
understand they've been searching across the broad earth. What do you
want of me? You've picked an unusual time to call."

"They've been searching for me?" Menoitios asked in surprise. "How long
have I been gone?"

Helios shrugged indifferently. "I don't concern myself with the comings
and goings of children."

Menoitios frowned, then changed tactics. "Does the god Zeus still
concern you?"

Helios's expression changed abruptly; now he, too, frowned. "What of
him? Do you know where he is?"

Menoitios smiled. He enjoyed holding information that others were
desperate to know, and instinctively delayed revealing it. "Perhaps. But
first we must discuss other things. You still haven't answered my
question. How long was I missing?"

Helios glared at him and drew himself up to his full height. "How dare
you take such an attitude with me, you miserable little wretch? It
wouldn't take much of a provocation to make me bat your sneering smile
through the back of your head."

Menoitios backed away a little, but smiled more broadly. "Come, come,
noble son of Hyperion-I came here to offer myself as your ally against a
common enemy. But if you're not interested in the Cretan god . . ." He
turned slowly, waiting for Helios to stop him from leaving.

Helios gritted his teeth. "If you know where he is, then perhaps it's a
different matter. Stop playing with me and say what you want."

Menoitios turned again to face the handsome deity. "I still require that
you answer my question. How long was I gone? I'm not asking foolishly. I
must know."

"Two weeks at least, perhaps three weeks," Helios said, puzzled now. "I
don't keep track of such things. How can you not know yourself?"

"I was.... occupied. I had no idea it was so long. Their punishment must
be very terrible indeed."

"You're a very annoying creature, Menoitios," Helios cried, clenching
his fists. "But I don't really care where you were or what you were
doing, or even why you don't know how long you were gone. Tell me what
you know about that backwoods upstart Zeus."

"He's here on Mount Othrys again. Probably he's been here most of the
time I was gone. I know where he is and I know . . . something else."

"Then it's true! The knave! I thought it was only baseless rumor. But
what else is irthat you know?"

"I know who he is."

"Who he is? What do you mean? He's the fatherless son of some lesser
goddess or other.''

Menoitios's smile grew more prominent as he slowly shook his head.

"Then who is he? Tell me what you're talking about."

"No, Helios," Menoitios said slowly. The knowledge he possessed gave him
a certain degree of power over the older god and he intended to savor
that power. "Listen. You don't like me or my family; there's no secret
to that. And I detest you. You're arrogant and foolish, and not
particularly smart, either.''

The Titan glowered at him and seemed to be about to lose control of
himself.

"But how we feel about one another isn't important, because we share a
common desire-the destruction of the god from Crete. I can put aside my
personal animosity toward you to accomplish that goal. Can you do the
same?"

Helios's eyes were bulging and his anger seemed almost to be strangling
him, but at last he managed to nod.

"Good. Then I offer you a pact. I'll tolerate you, and you will tolerate
me, until we've destroyed Zeus. We will not offer harm to one another in
any way or by any means. Do you agree to this?"

"Yes," the Titan answered grudgingly.

"Will you swear it by the Earth and starry Heaven?"

Helios hesitated, unwilling to bind himself so fully. At last,
reluctantly, he said, "I swear it by the Earth and starry Heaven. Now
tell me where he is, and who he is."

"And will you swear you won't act against him without my consent-that we
must reach agreement on whatever is done?"

"Yes," Helios growled. "I swear that too."

"By the Earth and starry Heaven?"

"Yes," the Titan cried in exasperation, "I swear it by the Earth and
starry Heaven. Now tell me."

Menoitios stared into the other god's eyes. "Your backwoods upstart is
as much a Titan as you. He's the son of ... Kronos and Rhea."

Helios stared at him in disbelief, mouth agape.

"Do you understand? He's the child of the prophecy-destined to become
our king!"

"That can't be," Helios roared. "How do you know this?"

"I heard it from Rhea's own lips."

"Him-our new king? No. That can't be. I will not let it be!"

Menoitios smiled. "I thought you might feel that way."

"Where is he?"

"Just before I came here, he was in the palace of his mother.''

Helios started toward the stairs. "I'll get my sword and call Pallas and
Perses. We'll drag him from his hiding place."

"You are stupid," Menoitios said quietly. "You'll do no such thing. We
must act with cunning-and keep our own hands clean. Tomorrow I'll learn
more of what's happened during my absence. Tomorrow night I'll visit you
again, and we'll begin to set our course. In the meantime, you must not
tell Pallas and Perses what I've told you. They'd only blabber it
about."

The Titan turned slowly and came back toward him, stopping so near that
his bulging chest was almost pressed against Menoitios's face. "I've
sworn all those things you made me swear, son of Iapetos. I've sworn and
I shall honor my oath. But I swear one thing more-when we've finished
with Zeus, I'll make you regret your insolence."

TwentyFive

For an hour or two each day, Metis was quite happy. She had feared that
once Zeus found himself back on Mount Othrys, with many attractive
maidens contending for his attention, he would forget her; but to her
surprise and intense gratification, he came to visit her every afternoon
without fail.

When they were not wrapped in each other's arms, they usually sat or lay
on the pillows Metis always scattered across the atrium. Sometimes he
teased and bantered with her, or they tussled together playfully upon
the floor, but more often she lay on her side, watching him as he
talked. He told her of his childhood on lovely Crete, of Pan and
Amaltheia, of Ida and Adrastia and the Kouretes.

During the weeks since they had returned from Mount Olympos, she had
learned a great deal about this rash, callow god, and always found him
more endearing as a result. He was seldom serious, preferring light and
amusing conversation to solemn conjectures and philosophizing; and he
was never bitter or resentful, even toward Kronos. Occasionally, though,
he confided his self-doubts and apprehensions. He was not at all certain
it was really such a fine thing to have a great destiny awaiting him;
might it not be much more pleasant to carelessly roam the fields and
meadows, never concerned about the morrow?

Today, however, Metis had serious matters of her own on her mind. "You
were nearly caught again, I understand. At least that's what I've
heard."

"Not really," he answered cheerfully. "The instant I entered, I realized
Kelema's father had laid a trap for me. I turned around immediately, and
by the time they followed me outside, I was so well hidden they had no
idea where I'd gone." His expression told her he considered the incident
a minor triumph.

"But how much longer do you think you can keep this up?" she asked.
"That must be the third attempt to catch you in as many days."

He shook his head, grinning. "Fifth. There were two others I didn't tell
you about. I'd been warned and didn't venture near them."

"You know that Skleros complained to the Council today?"

Zeus sat up, much interested. "No, I didn't. What did he say?"

"That the god Zeus was sneaking into his home to visit his daughter,
though of course she claimed it wasn't so; that he'd seen him and chased
him away; that other gods have noticed suspicious things going on in
their homes, and that the Titans had better do something about it."

"I do wish he hadn't seen me in my own form. That was unfortunate. What
did the Council do?"

"Nothing, of course. Crios made light of it, saying he didn't see how
they could be expected to catch phantoms. Koios said Skleros was
probably mistaken, since no one else had seen Zeus in months."

"So I'm safe a while longer, at least."

"No, you're not! Skleros left the Hall of the Titans fuming, and he
wasn't the only one. There were many of the other lesser gods there with
him, and they're very unhappy with you too. They're convinced that
someone is toying with their goddesses behind their backs-that you are
that someone-and they don't like it. If they catch you, they won't go
back to the Council for justice, you know. They'll take matters into
their own hands. ..."

Zeus shrugged. "I'll be more careful. Did I tell you that Psephos
thrashed one of his own sons? He found him in Iachema's room and thought
he was me in disguise!"

Zeus laughed and Metis smiled wanly; she was in no mood to appreciate
such humor.

"Have you heard that Menoitios has returned?" she asked. "He told his
parents an outrageous story about chasing a prowler from their home,
following him across the Great Sea, and getting lost, but no one
believes him, of course."

"Yes, I heard. Do you think he's been on Mount Olympos all this time?"

She shrugged. "The real question, though, is what his return means to
you. He probably knows you're Kronos's son and will suspect that you're
staying in your mother's palace."

"I'll have to be more careful."

"Is that your answer to everything? There's Kronos to think about, too.
He'll soon recover, if he hasn't already. We have no way of knowing what
Menoitios may already have told him."

"What are you getting at?"

"I think it may be time for you to consider leaving Mount Othrys."

When he did not respond, she sat quietly for some moments, preparing to
broach a more sensitive topic. "Do you think you could ever content
yourself with a single goddess?" she asked at last.

He seemed distracted and did not answer at first.

Usually she avoided speaking of his other relationships; the subject
bruised her feminine pride too much. But now she persisted, trying to
make the question sound light and offhand. "Please answer. Would it
grieve you so much to have to limit yourself to only one?"

"I suppose that would depend on a number of things, such as who the
goddess was."

"Me!" she blurted out, annoyed at what she interpreted as his frivolous
attitude.

He was surprised at how beautiful and vulnerable she appeared as she sat
across from him, cross-legged on the floor, looking away while she
awaited his answer. "Really, Metis, I haven't given any thought to such
a thing. Why should I? I'm young. I'll have more than enough time to
ponder weighty concerns in years to come."

She sat up straighter, frowning. His answer, delivered simply and
honestly, made her angry. The matter he hadn't even considered was
virtually all that she thought about! As she looked into his handsome,
smiling face-so untroubled by her own grief-all her suppressed emotions
surged up.

"Don't you understand how much you're hurting me?" she demanded. "You
come and spend a little while with me each day, but then you go off-to
them. Don't you think that hurts me? Do you know what I do every day
after you leave? I cry!" She had not intended to tell him any of this,
but once she started to unburden herself she could not stop. "I throw
myself on my bed and cry, because I know you're with them instead of
with me. I care about you"-her voice started to break with
emotion-"very, very much. ... I love you! Don't you know that? Don't you
understand? I love you!"

He tried to comfort her, edging closer and slipping an arm around her
back. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt like that- so strongly, I mean.
Metis, I love you too, but...."

"But not enough, it appears," she said bitterly, wiping tears from her
eyes. "I can't bear to be away from you, even for a few moments, but you
can't bear to be away from . . . them. I can't go on like this, sharing
you. It hurts too much."

"I'm sorry," he said again; it was all he could think to say.

She buried her face between his neck and shoulder, letting him comfort
her. When she was calm again, she pulled away and looked directly into
his eyes. "I'll ask you again. Do you think you could ever content
yourself with a single goddess-with me?"

"I don't know," he said simply. Her emotional outburst had upset him
greatly. He cared very much for her; she was very special, and if he had
to restrict himself to 'but one goddess, she would certainly be his
first choice. But he cared about many of the others, too. They were
special as well, each in her own way, as he had discovered to his
surprise over the past few weeks; and he was not at all sure he could do
without any of them.

When he tried to put his arm around her again, Metis shook it away. She
got up and walked across the room. As she neared the wall she swung
around and faced him.

"I've been thinking it might be best if we didn't continue seeing each
other."

"I hope you don't mean that," he said quietly.

"I don't think I have any other choice. I can't continue like this much
longer. A goddess needs more from the god she loves than a brief visit
each day. She needs commitment.... marriage."

"I don't want to lose you," he said. "I had no idea. ..."

"And I don't want to lose you!" she said. "We're both distraught. Will
you think about what I've said?"

He nodded.

She smiled at him, a sad, forlorn smile, then came toward him, threw her
arms around his neck, and kissed him. "You'd better go now. Tell me
tomorrow what you've decided."

After he left, her apartment seemed oppressive. She yearned to leave its
confines, if only for a short while, and so she sought out the pleasant
solitude of the wide forests and gardens of the mountaintop. Even more
than usual, in recent days she had found a sort of peace there, walking
among the trees and flowers, and even occasionally forgot how miserable
she was.

This afternoon her wandering brought her to the edge of the mountain,
and for some minutes she stood there, peering downward at the vast and
magnificent vista of smaller mountains and hills separated by green,
thickly forested valleys.

She had been so certain that Zeus was destined to become her husband-had
so thoroughly convinced herself of the inevitability of that event-that
she found it extremely difficult and painful to force herself to admit
the unavoidable truth. Deep within, probably, she had realized all along
that she was indulging herself in self-deception of the most foolish
sort.

She could not hate him, she decided-even now. Her life would never be
the same. He had sauntered through her life and changed it utterly;
undoubtedly the same was or would be true of many others. And yet she
did not really blame him. It was his nature to do the things he did. In
a way it made as much sense to blame the hare for despoiling a patch of
clover-or the lion for satisfying its hunger upon some lovely fawn. Or
was she merely making excuses for him- and herself?

As she stood at the edge of the cliff, a movement far in the distance
caught her eye and for some time she stared in that direction. She could
discern a number of divine figures, which were moving through a valley.
As she looked more closely she realized that amid them traveled the most
amazing creature she had ever seen-an enormous goat, its head rising
well above the waists of the gods that accompanied it. Now Metis watched
with genuine interest, for she knew that the goat must be Amaltheia, the
strange goddess who had helped rear Zeus, and that her companions must
be the Kouretes, the savage bodyguard Rhea had mentioned. Zeus had
related to Metis his conversation with Pan, and so she knew that
Amaltheia and her companions were searching for the two youths.

Poor creature! she thought. Here was yet another victim of Zeus's
callousness. How long must she be allowed to continue her hopeless
search? Metis considered flying down and telling the goat goddess where
she could find at least one of the gods she sought, but she quickly
decided against such an impulsive action, which might further complicate
Zeus's stay on Mount Othrys. Instead she would inform Zeus and encourage
him to go to the poor creature. She would tell Rhea, too, who might have
a thing or two to say to her son about his lack of consideration.

Evening was approaching and she turned back toward her apartment,
walking slowly and whistling a sad, reflective air. She found Prometheus
awaiting her just outside the Palace of Okeanos.

"Greetings, Metis." His smile and manner were pleasant-perhaps too
pleasant, as if concealing some serious reason for his visit. "I haven't
seen you in many days. Are you busy now? Do you have time to talk?"

"I always have time for my friends." She did her best to return his
cheerfulness.

They entered the building, climbing the wide stairway side by side.

"We've missed seeing you," the Titan began awkwardly when they reached
the atrium of her apartment. He settled into a large armchair while she
mixed nectar for them. "Epimetheus and I, I mean. I expected you to see
us as often as before, after you returned from visiting your parents."

"If you missed me so much, you might have come here to visit. How is
Epimetheus?"

"He's as well as can be expected. The wounds should heal properly, which
is the important thing. Father has told him that if he gets in any more
rights-no matter who's at fault-he'll be sent away and not allowed back
on Mount Othrys until he learns to control himself."

"That's a shame. We both know Helios and his friends are really
responsible."

"Yes, but Epimetheus keeps acting so foolishly that it doesn't usually
look that way to everyone else. But I didn't come to talk about my
brother. Metis, I hope you don't mind my visiting you like this. ..."

"Why should I mind? You can be very foolish yourself at times, you
know!"

"I only thought, under the circumstances...." He paused, then tried
again. "I thought, since that day I told you how I felt, you might not
be comfortable having me ..."

She carried the filled goblets toward him, set his on the small
three-legged table that stood beside his chair, then seated herself
across from him. "Prometheus, how can you think such things? The way I
feel about you hasn't changed. I feel as I've always felt-as I'll always
feel. You're my dear friend. Nothing can change that."

"What about Zeus?" he asked. "Do you still.... love him?"

"What makes you think I love him?"

"It's pretty obvious. You haven't been the same since you met him. You
do love him, don't you?"

She did not wish to lie to him, and so for a moment or two she sought a
way to evade his question. At last she said, "Yes. More than before, I'm
afraid. I know it's foolish. I know you must think me a fool for feeling
as I do, but I can't help myself." She went on more quickly now. "I know
I'm a fool, and I sit here alone in my room most of the time, while he's
out wooing every goddess who catches his eye, and I curse myself. But we
can't control how we feel, Prometheus. At least I can't."

Prometheus looked up suddenly. "Wooing other goddesses? What do you
mean? You speak as if he were still here on Mount Othrys, or here
again."

She pressed her lips tightly together and turned away, ostensibly to
retrieve her goblet from the table where she had set it. "You see," she
said when she had finished sipping, "you've made me say too much. You
must promise not to tell anyone what I said."

The Titan nodded gravely.

"Zeus is indeed here. He returned the same day I did. There's much I may
not tell you-please don't question me further-but he is here."

"I knew it! There were just too many rumors for it not to be true. But
how does he accomplish it? Nearly everyone knows what he looks like,
from his first visit."

Metis smiled wryly. "May I speak freely? You mustn't use anything I tell
you to harm him."

"I won't."

"He's a talented youth, and acquires new skills easily. He's become a
skilled shape-changer and can mimic any god he likes. He has a safe
place to stay-no, not here or anywhere within this palace-and when he
wishes to venture out, he merely assumes the image of a suitable god and
wears it until he's safely reached his tryst. The ladies of Mount Othrys
are more trustworthy than many of you gods may think, for none has yet
given him away."

"Then he comes and goes as he likes? Has no one questioned him? How does
he avoid encountering the very god he's impersonating?"

Metis shrugged. "Perhaps he does. He's clever, my friend, and the
possibilities are numerous. I presume he's cautious."

A scowl was slowly settling on Prometheus's face. "Metis, how can you
love such a god? I don't understand at all. Half of Mount Othrys would
worship you if you gave them the slightest encouragement, yet you
squander your love on such a creature! How can the wisest of goddesses
be such a fool?"

"It's easy," she said, the corners of her mouth quivering. "I'm in
love."

"But really, Metis, if-"

"No, you must stop," she said. "I know you're saying such things because
you believe them and because you want to help me, but I don't want to
hear any more. You don't understand because you see him only with your
eyes and not with your heart. You see only an uncouth, callous youth.
There's much, much more to him, more than you can imagine. He is no
ordinary god, Prometheus. You're mistaking a forest fire for a firefly,
because you're viewing from so great a distance-and that's an error with
potentially disastrous consequences! I tell you, Prometheus, there are
no other gods like Zeus."

He drew away as she spoke, stunned by the intensity of her outburst. Her
face was gleaming.

She laughed suddenly and wiped her eyes. "I see you're staring at me and
shaking your head. You think I'm only a foolish female in love-than
which there's nothing more foolish, or so my father used to assure his
daughters. But everything I've said is true. The god who judges Zeus too
quickly does so at his own peril. You've seen only a tiny fraction of
his greatness.''

Prometheus was shaking his head. "I don't know how to answer any of
that," the Titan said, "except to say that it makes me very sad. A love
such as yours can only lead to grief. And if you marry him-"

She laughed lowly. "There's little chance of that."

"-your life will be ruined. You'll never be happy with such a god. If he
won't marry you, I count that as lucky, for certainly there are a dozen
others ready to become your husband."

"Perhaps not ... now."

He scrutinized her face. "What do you mean?"

She had not intended to say so much, but went on and blurted out the
rest. "I'm carrying Zeus's child."

Prometheus leaped from his chair. "Oh, Metis! And he won't marry you?
The beast!" He was shaking with anger.

"He doesn't even know."

"You haven't told him? By Heaven and Earth, why not?"

"I wouldn't have him as my husband if he married me for such a reason
alone."

"I'll marry you. I'll gladly marry you-and consider myself the most
fortunate of gods." He dropped to one knee before her. "Will you marry
me? No one need ever know. Now-today-immediately?''

She smiled tenderly at him, touched by his devotion. "Nor would I have
you as my husband-for such a reason."

"But it wouldn't be because of that-for me. I've always wanted to marry
you. Will you be my wife?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. I wouldn't do such a thing to you."

"But you would only be making me happy. Nothing would make me happier. I
don't care about... that... if it makes you agree to marry me. I welcome
it-I exalt in it-if it makes you my wife!"

"No," she said firmly.

"The worm! The toad! Oh, how I hate him!" he roared, pounding his fist
against his leg.

"No, you mustn't hate him. The fault is as much mine as his, if it is a
fault. You're making me sorry that I've told you."

For a long moment he stood completely still before her, his head bowed.
At last he looked up slowly. "I must think." He turned to leave.

"Promise me!" she cried, running after him. "Promise you'll do nothing
foolish. I know you won't betray my confidence, but you must not try to
harm Zeus. This is my problem and only I can solve it."

He looked back at her again, his eyes dull and distant. Nodding, he
opened the outer door of the apartment and left her.

He descended slowly to the ground floor of the palace, then made his way
outside. Night was falling. Head down, he walked back toward the Palace
of Iapetos. As he walked, he became more and more angry. In his own
apartment, he settled into a chair to think, and the more he thought,
the more determined he became upon a single course of action. From an
adjacent room he brought a dagger, which he strapped to his waist. In
another room he found a thick piece of wood that would serve as a club,
and with a long strip of rawhide he hung it from about his neck in such
a way that it could easily be concealed beneath a cloak. Now he had only
to wait.

For hours he paced the wide entrance hall of his apartment, pausing
occasionally to look out the window. Finally, when he thought it late
enough, he left the palace again.

He was determined to locate the Cretan god, and so he began a circuit of
Mount Othrys, stopping at each palace that housed a divine maiden. In a
situation such as this, he felt no obligation to abide by the
formalities normally associated with such visits, and his intimate
knowledge of the Titan settlement allowed him as often as not to enter
at will and make his way unseen to any room within those enormous
structures.

His unexpected intrusions garnered many peculiar looks, but a quick
apology, and his ready explanation that he had lost his way while
searching for some other household member, invariably quelled the
concern of the goddesses he encountered. More often than not, they
invited him to remain and chat.

As he was leaving the Palace of Atlas, his brother, where he had failed
to find Zeus among the Pleiades, he collided with another god, who was
rushing up the great stone stairs that led to the entrance as he was
rushing down them. Both deities drew back in surprise.

"Father!" Prometheus cried. "Pardon my carelessness. I didn't see you
coming."

Iapetos nodded his head in greeting, but continued climbing. His face
was furrowed in a deep scowl and he appeared completely preoccupied.
Prometheus turned too, but father and son traveled only a few steps
before both swung around again and rushed back toward each other.

"Has anyone seen Zeus?" they asked simultaneously.

The echoed question left both of them speechless for a moment; then
Prometheus said, "No, I'm seeking him too. How do you know he's on Mount
Othrys?"

"Half the gods say he's here," the Titan growled back in a hoarse
undertone. "And when I find that miserable ..."

"What has he done, Father?" Prometheus asked. "Why are you seeking
him?''

Iapetos's eyes were blazing and his voice rasped like bronze on bronze.
"He's been courting Themis-and most of the other goddesses of Mount
Othrys."

"Themis is no longer your wife, Father. She can spend her time with
whatever god she pleases," Prometheus said, hoping to distract his
father from whatever questions he probably intended to ask in return.

"That isn't all," Iapetos said meaningfully.

Prometheus's eyes widened. "You mean-?"

Iapetos nodded, gritting his teeth. "Yes! The whelp's gotten her
pregnant!" The elder god looked up the steps toward the Palace of Atlas.
"I must make certain he isn't here-with my granddaughters!"

Prometheus watched his father disappear through the broad entrance, then
resumed his interrupted mission, even more confused and distressed than
before.

While Prometheus hurried on through the night, a new god arrived on
Mount Othrys. He had been climbing since morning, and now, as he stood
at last on the relatively level surface of the cliff's edge, he paused
to rest his shaggy legs and smell the sweet air of the mountaintop.
Still higher above him he could see in the moonlight the towering
edifices Zeus had described so vividly, where so many beautiful
goddesses lived.

As soon as his feet would allow him to continue, he rose and made his
way through a thick forest, pausing at last near one of the great stone
structures. A burst of tittering laughter emanated from somewhere
inside, and with a wide grin Pan sprinted toward the sound.

TwentySix

"Are you certain he's here?" Helios demanded a second time, nodding
toward the low, broad structure within which many of the children of Nyx
resided.

"Yes," Menoitios said patronizingly. "I followed him from his mother's
home not long ago. Unless he departed almost immediately-not a very
likely prospect, I'd say-or left by some other route, he must still be
within."

"Who has he come to see?"

"Eris, I think. She was near the door when he entered, and went off with
him."

"You said he'd taken on the appearance of another god. Which one? Whom
does he look like?"

"Philotes, Eris's brother." Menoitios snickered. "What better way to
gain entrance-not merely to this palace, but to her bedroom as well?"

Helios looked behind them suddenly, toward two approaching figures.
Pallas had been sent to find his brother and was returning with him now.

"Have you told them anything yet?" Menoitios asked.

Helios shook his head. "Only to come quietly, and to tell no one where
they were going."

"Good. They need not know everything I've told you. Tell them only that
Zeus is inside, and that we're going to capture him and take him before
the Titans."

"But I don't want to take him to the Council!" Helios objected.

"Tell them anyway," Menoitios whispered as the others drew near.
"Otherwise they might accidentally reveal what we really plan. Zeus will
come more readily if he thinks he has only a trial and banishment to
fear.''

Now Pallas and Perses reached them.

"Why is he here?" one asked, pointing at Menoitios.

The son of Iapetos sneered at them. "To help you accomplish that which
you're too dull to accomplish by yourselves."

Perses took a threatening step toward the boy, but Helios stopped him.
"Ignore his taunts-for tonight. He's located Zeus. Do you know the god
Philotes? Zeus has become very skilled at changing shapes and can even
assume the forms of other gods. Menoitios saw him enter this palace in
the guise of Philotes."

As they continued to talk in hushed tones, another god approached. He
traveled briskly, scanning the trees and nearby buildings. The moon was
bright tonight, and the direction from which he came allowed him to see
the hidden gods clearly and to recognize them. To find Helios and his
young companions skulking about in the night was suspicious; to have
Menoitios with them was doubly so.

Adapting a more stealthy manner, Prometheus turned about and retreated
for some distance along the walkway he had been following, then entered
a grove of tall trees and made his way silently toward their hiding
place. He could not help thinking that their presence might have
something to do with the very god he was seeking.

Normally he would have been much more cautious; but Prometheus was angry
tonight and in no mood for meekness. If they discovered him, he was
fully prepared to step out boldly and interrogate all four of them by
whatever means necessary. He advanced until he was no more than a few
paces away, with only leaves and shadows to conceal his presence. He
listened carefully for some minutes. When he had learned what he was
most interested in knowing, he slipped back among the trees.

Circling toward the rear of the Palace of Nyx, he scrambled into a
window, crossed a number of dark rooms, and at last found himself in.a
wide, dim corridor. He had no idea where Eris's rooms might be, except
that they almost certainly would not be on the ground floor, and so he
sought a stairway and ascended. Once he reached the level above, he
traveled from apartment to apartment, brazenly entering each one. Most
were unoccupied. Whenever a startled god or goddess met him, he smiled
and bowed, backed away muttering, "Pardon-I must have the wrong room,"
and continued down the corridor toward the next door.

At last, in a rear room of the last apartment on the second floor, he
found what he sought. Three steps carried him from the doorway to the
bed. Both god and goddess were too occupied to notice his intrusion
until he grasped Zeus by his thick black hair and one arm and hauled him
from the bed.

The divine boy, who had abandoned the form of Philotes the instant he
and Eris had reached the privacy of her chambers, shrieked in pain as
the Titan pulled him to a standing position. His golden-haired companion
cried out too, in surprise. She was an attractive older goddess, endowed
with a full figure and mature charms that she made no effort to conceal
as she sat up and watched in astonishment.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "You have no right to enter my
rooms."

"Be quiet," Prometheus told her. "If you make noise, you'll only
embarrass yourself still further."

Zeus tried to twist from the Titan's grasp, but Prometheus only pulled
back harder on his hair, eliciting more cries of pain. Forcing the boy
to stand completely upright, Prometheus walked him across the room.

"Pick up your clothing and put it on," he commanded, pushing him
downward so that he could reach the garment.

Again Zeus tried to break free, but the Titan yanked his head back so
forcefully that he found himself staring at the ceiling and convinced of
the wisdom of cooperating with his captor, at least for the present. He
picked up his chiton and awkwardly began to slip it on over his head,
hoping that he could escape when Prometheus was forced to relinquish his
hold momentarily. But the powerful hands of the Titan kept a firm grip
on various parts of his anatomy until the operation had been
successfully completed.

When he finished belting and adjusting the garment, Prometheus told him,
"Put on your cloak, too-quickly."

Zeus complied. "Why have you followed me here? What do you want?"

"Justice."

The youth looked puzzled. "Have I done something to you? Is this
goddess-?"

"Not here. We'll talk in private." Without another glance at the
goddess, Prometheus pushed the boy out of the room, across the
apartment, and out into the corridor. Eris started to follow them,
shouting objections all the way, but stopped near the outer door since
she still had not taken the time to dress.

Holding Zeus ahead of him with both hands, Prometheus marched him down
the corridor until they reached a room the Titan knew from his previous
explorations to be vacant. He shoved the boy inside, then closed the
door after them.

"Do you love Metis?" he demanded.

"Metis?" Zeus asked in surprise. "Is she the reason you've sought me out
like this?"

"Do you love her?" Prometheus asked again.

Zeus remembered his conversation with the Okeanid earlier that day.
Despite his promise to carefully consider what she had said, he had
promptly pushed the troubling subject out of his mind, hoping that her
extreme agitation was only a temporary aberration and that it would soon
pass.

"Answer me!"

"Yes, I suppose I do love her. I told her that today."

"Will you marry her?"

Zeus's eyes grew large. "Marry her? Is that what she was talking about?
She said something about marriage, but I thought ..."

Prometheus's frown grew pronounced.

"I do love her. I hadn't really thought much about it till she brought
up the subject. Perhaps when I'm older, some years from now ..."

"Would your answer be any different if you knew that she carries your
child?"

The youth looked stunned. "I-I didn't know."

"Will you marry her now?"

"I-I don't know. I'm not sure. ... I do care for her- very much-but
marriage. ... I need to think. . . ."

The Titan glared down at him. He stood nearly a head taller than Zeus
and was still holding him roughly by both arms. Now one hand moved to
grip his throat. "Listen to me, boy. You've dishonored a goddess a
thousand times better than yourself, a goddess I love-that I've loved
since we were children. She loves you, and you're going to marry her.
Furthermore, you're going to act as if this is your idea, as if you want
to marry her more than you want anything else in the world. You owe her
that, for what you've done to her. If you don't-if you hurt her with a
single careless word or look-I'll cut you apart and scatter your innards
across the wide earth. Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes, I understand, Prometheus," the boy said, but as the Titan
relaxed his grip, Zeus leaped away and ran toward an adjacent room.

But the youth was no match for the full-grown Titan. Prometheus overtook
him in an instant, swung him around and threw him against a wall. A
large club appeared from beneath Prometheus's cloak. Zeus attempted to
dodge the blow, but could not move fast enough. The club struck his head
and he slumped unconscious to the floor.

Prometheus stood over him briefly, then stooped to straighten the boy's
clothing. He hefted the limp body to one shoulder and carried it out of
the apartment and down the corridor toward the stairway. When he reached
the ground floor, he retraced his steps to the rear of the palace and
clambered out the same window through which he had entered a short while
before. He pulled the limp form after him.

Helios and his companions were still hiding near the front entrance,
where Prometheus had first seen them. Still carrying the youth's body
slung over one shoulder, he moved cautiously past them through the
nearby trees, finally reaching a path that would lead him to the Palace
of Okeanos.

Entering that palace without being seen presented yet another problem.
Through the open door he could see a number of gods and goddesses
socializing within the atrium. After brief consideration, he readjusted
the boy's weight, then went along the side of the building until he
reached a suitable position near its rear. Here he approached a dark
window, lifted and shoved the boy through it, and climbed in after him.

A little-used stairway brought him to the floor he sought. Before
continuing on to Metis's apartment, though, he located a vacant chamber,
deposited the boy on the floor just inside the doorway, then quickly
secured a lighted torch from the corridor. With it he lit a number of
lamps that stood about the room.

Zeus was stirring when he returned from replacing the torch in its
sconce outside. Prometheus pulled up a chair and sat watching as the
youth groaned and tenderly explored the lump on the back of his head
where the Titan had struck him. At last the boy opened his eyes.

"I told you before," Prometheus said calmly, "you are going to marry
Metis, or I'll punish you so thoroughly that you'll rue the day you
first set eyes on Mount Othrys and the Titans. She loves you-why I can't
imagine, but she does. You're going to make her happy, at least for a
short while.

"Soon I'll take you to her apartment," the Titan continued, "and I'll
tell her that I found you and told you of her situation. I'll say that
as soon as you knew, you insisted on marrying her as quickly as
possible-tonight. Then you'll tell her that you really do love her, that
all other goddesses pale to nothingness beside her, that you love her
all the more because of the child she's to bear, and that you can't
endure the thought of being without her. No matter what she says or how
much she objects, you'll insist that the marriage take place
immediately. You'll beg her to marry you, and the whole time that you're
there, until the wedding is accomplished, you will indicate in no way
that you're acting other than of your own accord. You will smile. You
will laugh. You will implore her to give you her love. Do you understand
me?"

All the while that Prometheus spoke, Zeus sat silently, glancing up only
occasionally at the Titan's stony face and icy eyes.

"Long ago," Prometheus continued, "Kronos, King of the Gods, sought to
discover if the gods are truly immortal, or if we can be killed. To this
day the question has not been fully answered. Severed limbs grow back,
ghastly wounds in time heal themselves, decapitated heads even grow new
bodies. But what would happen if a god's skull were split open, his
brains scooped out and scattered to the winds to feed the crows and
vultures? Could even an immortal god survive such injury? Disobey me,
boy, and you will supply the answer."

Now the Titan rose and stood over him. "Stand up and straighten
yourself. It's time to go."

He led him down the corridor to Metis's apartment. When she opened the
door she looked back and forth between the two in surprise, then began
to cry. Prometheus nudged the boy forward. He entered and Prometheus
followed just behind him, ready to act at the first sign of treachery.

They followed Metis deep into the room. "What have you done?" she
demanded of Prometheus. "I asked you to let me handle my own problems."

"I've done nothing, except to tell Zeus what you should have told him
yourself."

"You had no right! What I told you was in confidence-as a trusted
friend. Oh, how could you, Prometheus?"

"I could because I am your friend, and I knew you were making a mistake.
You misjudged him. Because you've heard that he's seeing other
goddesses, you think he doesn't love you. There are innocent friendships
as well as passions, you know. There are also unfounded rumors and
misunderstandings. But whatever his relationships may be with these
other goddesses, the boy loves you. The moment I told him, he was wild
to see you."

Metis hesitated, confused. She looked at Zeus. "Is this true?"

Zeus nodded. From the corner of his eye he could see Prometheus watching
him closely. The Titan was standing just beside him and nudged him
softly when he did not speak up immediately.

"Yes, it's all true. I'm sorry I've hurt you. I realize now how much I
love you."

"Then you've thought over what I said?" she asked uncertainly.

Zeus nodded, rinding that a less demanding response than to try to think
of the appropriate things to say.

"He says he wants to marry you tonight-immediately," Prometheus said.

"Is this true?" Metis asked.

Zeus glanced at Prometheus, who was still observing him carefully.
"Yes!" he answered quickly, then did his best to repeat all the things
the Titan had told him to say.

Metis's heart leaped at his words, such words as she longed to hear. But
she could not quite bring herself to believe them. She peered into
Zeus's face. "How can I tell that you aren't just saying that, because
of ..."

"I'm not," he answered, this time without waiting for Prometheus to
prompt him. "Oh, I admit that I hadn't been thinking of marriage-no one
my age does. But now that I've had a chance to think about it, I realize
it's a wonderful idea."

Metis was grinning and daubing her eyes with a kerchief.

Prometheus nudged Zeus again, and the boy said, "Will you marry me,
Metis? Tonight? Right away?"

"That would certainly be unusual... and would raise questions in many
minds," she said, speaking with difficulty.

"Unusual, perhaps, but not unheard of," Prometheus said. "You wouldn't
be the first impetuous lovers to have an impromptu ceremony. I think
it's a wonderful idea. Besides"- he laughed-"why give him the chance to
change his mind?"

Metis was laughing too now, and nervously walking back and forth in
front of them. She wanted to believe it all-wanted to marry Zeus this
instant, before everything turned out to be only a dream-but her good
sense resisted such impulsiveness.

"All we need are a couple more witnesses."

"This is outrageous," Metis continued, grinning. "Look at me. I wouldn't
venture downstairs looking like this. I was about to go to bed. I can't
get married dressed this way."

"Well, why don't you change? Take your time, as long as you don't take
too long. Zeus and I will look for guests to invite and be back
shortly."

Before she could object, Prometheus maneuvered Zeus through the outer
door and into the corridor. Behind them, Metis almost floated across the
atrium toward her bedroom. She was deliriously happy. She knew it was
impossible. Her good sense nagged away at her, but she refused to listen
to its stuffy misgivings. Zeus loved her-he had said so! The god she
loved loved her in return, and would soon be her husband. Nothing else
mattered.

Prometheus, keeping a firm hand on the youth's arm, pushed Zeus ahead of
him down the stairs toward the atrium. He hoped to find there two other
deities who, with himself, could serve as witnesses to the ceremony. He
knew that the more time Metis had to think, the more likely she was to
see through his plan. Before they reached the ground floor they met
three Muses, who were returning home from visiting the Okeanid Akaste.

"Thalia," he cried. "Melpomene, Erato-just the goddesses I wanted to
see. Will you come with us for a bit, to the apartment of Metis?
Something interesting is about to take place there tonight."

"Certainly, most noble Titan," Thalia answered with one 'of her
characteristic grins, "But how does young Zeus here come to be with you?
When did he return to Mount Othrys?''

As they ascended the stairs, Prometheus explained quickly, elaborating
and inventing additional details in response to their questions.

"How romantic," Erato said. "Of course we'll help you. We'll be
honored!"

"What an excellent idea," Thalia said, laughing, "to get this handsome
boy safely married before he gets himself into trouble!"

Metis was still dressing when they entered. The Muses immediately busied
themselves preparing refreshments.

"How lovely she is!" one cried, and everyone turned to look at Metis,
who had just appeared in the hallway that led from her bedchamber. She
wore a flowing white peplos of especially fine craftsmanship and
delicate design.

Soon the ceremony began. Erato knew the words by heart and whispered
them to the bride and groom whenever they hesitated. At last Melpomene
brought forward the golden goblet. Metis took it from her and held it up
near her face.

"May our love be like nectar," she said softly, smiling across at the
god she loved. "May it be sweet and satisfying and imperishable." She
drank, then passed the goblet to Zeus, saying, "Drink well, O my
husband."

"Like nectar may our love be," he recited in turn, "sparkling and heady
and beyond the touch of time." Then he drank, too.

"Ours is the kiss of marriage," Metis continued, "the kiss that binds us
one to the other, in perpetual love."

"Ours is the kiss of marriage," Zeus said, stumbling over the words,
"that joins us together and proclaims our eternal union."

Beaming, Metis lifted her lips toward his and kissed him, then threw her
arms around her husband and pressed herself fiercely against him.

Thus did Metis, daughter of the Titans Okeanos and Tethys, become the
wife of Zeus.

While all of this was happening, Iapetos, the father of Prometheus, had
continued to seek Zeus among the palaces and lesser dwellings of Mount
Othrys. At last he arrived at the Palace of Okeanos. Remembering that
Metis had lodged Zeus on the occasion of his first visit among the
Titans, he decided to begin his search of the building with her
apartment.

There was a great deal of noise from that suite of rooms, much laughing
and singing that could easily be heard through the outer door. Iapetos
started to knock, but hesitated. After a few moments consideration, he
tried to open the door instead, pushing gently inward upon it until a
slit appeared wide enough to allow him to view a portion of the room. To
his amazement and consternation he saw his own son there- within arm's
reach of the fugitive he sought. Five deities were congregated close
together, sitting or reclining upon chairs or divans near the far side
of the chamber. He pushed the door open still farther and found on his
left, not far away, the dark entrance to another room. No one seemed to
have noticed him, and so Iapetos slipped silently into the atrium, then
disappeared through the nearby doorway.

Except for the presence of Prometheus, it was just the sort of scene he
might have expected to find-the shameless Cretan god surrounded by four
equally shameless maidens. He had no idea why they were all here
tonight. One or another of the Muses kept singing, and he could
understand little of the intermittent conversation. Grimly he squatted
down to wait.

"Have you run out of nectar?" Erato demanded some minutes later. "That's
hardly the proper way to give a party."

Metis rose from beside her husband and hurried off to check. When she
returned, she said, "There should be some in the supply room down the
corridor, near the stairs. I'll be back shortly."

"Oh, no, Metis," Melpomene objected. "Let someone else tend to such
chores tonight. Prometheus, you'll go, won't you?''

The Titan looked unhappy at the suggestion and shot a stern look at
Zeus. The boy was busily talking to Erato and did not seem likely to
bolt at the first opportunity. Besides, Zeus had no reason to flee now;
he and Metis were incontestably married. If he was going to leave his
new wife, he could do so as easily tomorrow as tonight. Prometheus rose
and went to attend to the errand.

Within the darkness of the nearby room, Iapetos shifted his position to
ease his complaining muscles.

Prometheus had been gone only a few moments when Thalia cried, "Where is
it? You must show us."

Instantly the goddesses were on their feet and moving toward Metis's
bedroom to examine some object of feminine apparel, deserting Zeus in
the atrium. Iapetos did not hesitate; probably he would not have another
opportunity such as this. Drawing his sword, he crept silently through
the doorway and toward the boy.

Zeus was looking away from him, toward the rear hallway down which the
goddesses had disappeared. When the Titan reached a position directly
behind him, he raised his sword and brought its pommel down heavily on
the youth's head.

Hoisting the limp body to his shoulder, he carried it quickly out of the
apartment and down the corridor toward one of the rear stairways, where
he was less likely to be discovered.

TwentySeven

"Where is he?" Helios demanded, fuming. "How long must we wait?" He was
standing very close to Menoitios, and as he spoke he leaned closer
still, so that his scowl threatened to bruise the younger god's nose.

Menoitios backed away a step. "How am I to know? Instead of making faces
at me, you should be thanking me for helping you find Zeus. If I hadn't
told you about him, you'd still be wondering if he was on Mount Othrys
at all."

Helios snorted in disgust, turning back to look at the wide portal that
served as the main entrance of the Palace of Nyx. "How do I know he's
really in there? I've only your word. Maybe this is your distorted
notion of humor, getting us to crouch out here in the dark half the
night."

Pallas crowded closer."Why do we think Zeus will come back out at all
tonight? He may stay with the goddess till morning."

Menoitios glared at them both disdainfully. "I'm not keeping you here.
You can all go home, or you can go into the palace and try to find him.
I don't know where Eris's room is-do you?"

Helios consulted with Pallas and Perses. "What do you think? Is it time
to go in after him?"

"Yes,'' Perses said. ''Anything's better than waiting out here.''

Pallas agreed, and Helios turned back toward Menoitios. "We'll seek him
out within the palace," he announced. "You are coming with us. Things
had better be as you say they are." Taking hold of the younger god, he
pulled him along as they left their hiding place and climbed the wide
steps.

Just within the building they encountered an attractive young goddess
and asked the location of Eris's room.

"Let me get her for you," she offered, smiling attractively.

"That isn't necessary," Helios insisted. "She's expecting us."

The goddess looked puzzled and perhaps a trifle skeptical.

"We're going to help her move some heavy things," he continued quickly,
unable to think of any more convincing explanation of their presence
here at this time of night.

"Well, then," she said, "I'll lead you there."

Helios started to object, but after an instant of confusion acquiesced
instead.

The goddess escorted them up a stairway and down a long corridor, at
last gesturing toward a doorway. "Just let me warn her that her visitors
have arrived," she said, reaching for the huge golden handle.

"No," Helios said firmly, stepping between her and the door. "She's
waiting for us. Thank you for snowing us the way."

He pulled the door partway open, allowed his companions to enter through
the narrow breach, then closed the door behind them, leaving their
dismayed guide standing alone outside.

They found Eris in her bedroom, sitting at the side of her bed-alone.
She was still completely unclothed, and at their sudden appearance she
jumped to her feet and let out a loud shriek. "Not again!" she cried.
"Is the whole world going to tramp through my bedroom tonight?"

All four gods halted abruptly just within the chamber, gawking at her.
Eventually Helios remembered what they had come for, however, and forced
the others to begin. They spread out across the room, searching behind
furniture and wall hangings.

"Where is he?" Helios asked.

"Who? Zeus?" Eris stood with her hands firmly planted on her generous
hips, watching them.

"Yes, the Cretan god-where is he? We know he came here with you."

By now the outraged goddess had begun looking for a weapon. A small,
three-legged stool stood nearby, and she swooped it up and raised it
above her head.

"Where has he gone?'' Helios asked, not looking at her.

"How should I know? Prometheus dragged him away long ago. Get out, do
you hear! I won't be treated this way."

"Prometheus?" Helios cried, looking at Menoitios. "Do you hear that?
Your brother has taken him away. What would he want with-?"

The stool struck the Titan and sent him reeling backwards. Before he
could recover his balance, Eris snatched up a small table and came after
him, swinging it with both hands. Helios threw up an arm to ward off the
blows and lurched toward the doorway, the other gods slipping out ahead
of him. Eris followed them, hurrying them on their way with blow after
blow, so that first one god and then another yelped in pain.

At last they reached the corridor, but to their dismay they discovered
that a large crowd had gathered there. Suspicious of their peculiar
conduct, the goddess who had brought them to Eris's apartment had gone
to consult with a number of her sisters. Their conduct had been peculiar
enough to warrant further investigation, and a large contingent of the
daughters of Nyx had hastened to assure the welfare of their sister.

Eris appeared in the doorway behind them, screaming imprecations, and
the gods found themselves surrounded by two dozen outraged females who
began to jostle and push them toward the stairway. Small, hard fists and
feet pounded and kicked them all the way, nimble fingers tore at their
hair and clothing, and shrill voices screamed insults in their ears.
Pallas stumbled and nearly fell, but Helios managed to pull him up
before he was trampled.

The goddesses followed them down the stairway, abandoning the chase only
when the last of the intruders had left the building. The gods continued
to flee until they were out of sight of the palace, then slumped down to
rest together near one of the walkways.

"I won't forget that," Helios said, glaring at Menoitios, who was
sitting some distance from him.

"It wasn't my fault. You heard what she said. Zeus was there. How could
I know my brother would interfere?"

"Where would Prometheus take him?" Perses asked. "If we knew that,
perhaps we could still find Zeus tonight."

Menoitios shrugged. "Why would he take him is probably more to the
point."

"Well, why?" Helios asked.

"There's only one reason I can think of. He's in love with-"

Just then Menoitios noticed someone walking toward them. He fell silent
and gestured toward the dimly visible figure. As it drew nearer, the
figure resolved itself into a tall, bearded god who seemed to be
carrying something quite bulky over one shoulder. Instinctively the
young gods edged back from the walkway to allow greater room for him to
pass.

Menoitios rubbed his eyes and looked again. The figure resembled-

"Menoitios," a deep voice called. "Is that you, Menoitios?"

"Yes, Father," the boy said, scrambling to his feet. "Who... ? What...
?"

Now the approaching figure was quite near, and it was clear that his
burden was the limp body of a god. Iapetos came to a stop beside his
youngest son. Menoitios leaned around his father to look behind him and
learn the identity of the unconscious deity.

"Why are you carrying Zeus?" he asked in astonishment.

Iapetos ignored his question, just as he ignored the other youths
nearby. "Come walk with me. I have something for you to do."

Menoitios followed the Titan until they were some distance from Helios
and the others. Again his father halted and turned toward him.

"I want you to find two gods or goddesses for me and bring them to the
Palace of Themis. Not Titans, you understand. That might cause too many
questions to be asked. Lesser goddesses would be best."

"Any goddesses?"

"Yes. Find them quickly and bring them. Can you accomplish this?"

"Y-yes, Father-but why?"

Iapetos grimaced. "Do as I have directed, and be quick. I'm depending on
you."

Without saying any more, the Titan turned and continued down the path.
Menoitios hesitated, watching him, then hurried back to his companions.
Quickly he explained what his father had asked of him.

"I don't understand any of this," Helios said. "Eris said your brother
Prometheus took him off, but now your father has him."

"I don't understand either, but I must do what my father wishes. While
I'm gone, follow him. Try not to let him see you. As soon as I learn
what's going on, I'll let you know. There may be some way we can profit
by all this-and insure that Zeus receives the punishment he deserves."

Iapetos continued on until he drew near the Palace of Themis. In an open
area of a nearby grove he slid his burden from his shoulder to an
upright position. Holding him there, he commenced to vigorously shake
the unconscious youth.

"Wake up," he commanded. "I didn't hit you that hard."

Soon Zeus began to regain consciousness. "Who-who are you?" he finally
managed to ask, blinking his eyes again and again in an attempt to clear
his vision.

"That doesn't matter. You will listen to me and do as I say. You have
defiled the goddess I love."

"Which goddess?"

"Themis-not merely a goddess, but a Titaness, one of the great gods!"

Zeus was still not sure his senses had sufficiently returned and that he
understood the other god. His fingers gently explored the second lump he
found on the back of his head.

"You've used her cruelly and selfishly," Iapetos continued, "and now you
will remedy the situation in the only way possible."

"You don't mean... ?" Zeus asked, aghast.

"She's pregnant."

"Pregnant!"

"Yes, you thick-witted scoundrel. That's the usual result of such sport,
or didn't you know?"

"And you want me to marry her?"

"I don't want it, boy. I demand it!"

"But I can't. I'm-"

"Oh, yes, you can! No excuse will get you out of this. You deserve to be
severely punished. You'll do what is necessary for Themis, or I'll-"

"But you don't understand. I'm-"

"Silence! I'll brook no argument. One more word and-"

"But-"

The Titan reached for his sword and half drew it from its sheath. Zeus
lapsed into submissive silence.

"You'll do and say exactly as I instruct you. Do you understand?"

The youth nodded silently.

After Menoitios left them, Helios and his companions had followed
Iapetos at a distance. They waited until he reappeared from the nearby
grove, then watched as he pushed Zeus ahead of him toward the Palace of
Themis. Once the Titan and the youth were out of sight within the
building, they scurried forward and took up hiding places near the
entrance.

A number of minutes passed, and then Menoitios appeared with the two
lesser goddesses he had been sent to find. Helios tried to catch his
attention as he went past, but Menoitios gestured back, warning him to
remain hidden.

Meanwhile Prometheus left the Palace of Okeanos and walked slowly toward
his own apartment. The disappearance of Zeus puzzled him; he really had
not expected the boy to run away tonight. Metis had taken his sudden
absence with amazing aplomb, though, admirably concealing her own
distress. The Titan would have remained with her indefinitely, but
eventually she insisted on sending everyone away.

Prometheus had walked less than half the distance to his home when he
encountered Atlas on the path.

"Wait a moment, brother," the older Titan called to him. When they drew
close together, Atlas went on in a confidential tone, "Tell me, do you
know if Father managed to find that scamp Zeus? I've a score to settle
with that boy myself."

Prometheus was surprised to see his normally even-tempered brother
looking so belligerent. "I doubt it. What does he plan to do with him if
he does find him? Do you know?"

"To make him do the right thing! He didn't tell you? The boy went and
got Themis with child."

"He wants to force Zeus to marry Themis?" Prometheus asked
incredulously.

Atlas nodded. "I'd like to get my hands on him, too. He's been sniffing
around my daughters-sneaking into my home disguised as one of my
functionaries. Of course I know they wouldn't do anything foolish
themselves. . . . Still, can you believe the gall of the imp? I've been
out trying to find him myself, but haven't had any success either."

After they parted, Prometheus walked more slowly. Could his father have
had anything to do with Zeus's sudden disappearance from Metis's
apartment? he wondered. It seemed unlikely, but Prometheus found himself
uneasy at the thought. He turned his steps toward the Palace of Themis
and proceeded in that direction with lengthening strides.

As Prometheus neared his destination, Helios signaled to his companions
to conceal themselves more carefully, and so the approaching Titan did
not see them hiding nearby. He mounted the wide stairs and pounded at
the heavy bronze door. Soon it swung inward, and he found himself
staring into the face of Iapetos.

"Father," he began uncertainly, "did you find Zeus? Atlas just told me-"

Iapetos pulled him inside and closed the door behind them. Prometheus
could hear the sounds of laughter and revelry from a neighboring room.

"What have you done, Father?" he asked in dismay.

"What I've done doesn't matter, son. Come join us in our celebration.
The Titaness Themis has just become the bride of Zeus.'' Neither
Iapetos's voice nor his features showed any sign of joy; neither did
they indicate anger. Instead he looked tired and very sad.

"Come," he said again, "you must greet the bride and groom."

TwentyEight

As he entered the room, Prometheus's eyes fell upon Zeus and Themis. The
youth was seated in a large armchair; his tall, stately wife stood
behind him, her hands on his shoulders. She was beaming, her entire face
alight with happiness as she conversed with two lesser goddesses who
stood nearby. She noticed Prometheus and beckoned him forward.

"I'm so glad you've come. I've always thought of you and your brothers
almost as my own children-the children I thought I'd never have-and so
it particularly pleases me to have you here. Come and wish us well."

Prometheus halted near the middle of the room and stood there stiffly,
long enough for the others to become aware of his uneasiness.

"What is it?" Themis asked. "Please speak, Prometheus."

"Zeus cannot marry you."

"What do you mean?" Iapetos demanded, coming forward now to stand beside
his son. "They are married. Everything has been done according to the
laws and traditions of the Titans, and no one can interfere. State
whatever objection you may have"-he glowered at his son-"but it can make
no difference. What is done, is done."

"I tell you, they can't marry," Prometheus insisted. "Zeus is already
married! This very evening-just before you brought him here, if that's
what happened-he wed the Okeanid Metis in the palace of her father.''

Iapetos spun around to glare at Zeus. "Is this true?"

The youth nodded reluctantly.

"Why did you not tell me?"

"I tried. You wouldn't listen to anything I wanted to say."

Themis was looking back and forth between Iapetos and her new husband.
"I don't understand. If you were already wed, why did you marry me?"

The boy nodded in the direction of Iapetos, and the Titan-ess stared at
her fellow Titan. At last she understood. "You forced him to do this? He
didn't marry me of his own free will?" Iapetos's expression told her all
she needed to know, and the beautiful, tawny-haired goddess turned away,
sobbing.

"It doesn't matter," Iapetos insisted. "The second marriage must take
precedence. He couldn't marry Themis while still married to Metis. Since
he did marry her, he must have put aside his first wife."

"What kind of logic is that?" Prometheus demanded. "Have you witnesses?
A marriage can't be dissolved in an instant-as you well know. Such
things must be done with all proper formality. Who saw and heard him
announce the severance? No, Father, you can't gain your way by twisting
our laws. Has such a thing as this ever happened before? Is there any
precedent? If not, then only the first marriage can be considered valid,
for he was not free to marry Themis."

Meanwhile Menoitios had been seated by himself in one corner of the
room, watching and listening with interest and amusement. When he was
certain that he had learned enough, he rose and quietly made his way out
of the palace. He called out softly and Helios stepped forward, followed
by Perses and Pallas.

Menoitios grinned broadly as he came up close to them. "We've got him!"
he whispered; then he proceeded to tell them all he learned. "All we
need do," he said in conclusion, "is inform the gods of Mount Othrys of
this outrage. Go, spread the word. Wake them up if you must. Zeus's
punishment will be assured without our having to lift a finger. The
Council of Titans may not act forcefully, but a mob will."

Inside, Prometheus and Iapetos continued to argue. Neither would
acknowledge the validity of the other's position, and more than once
father and son seemed about to exchange blows. While they argued, Themis
sobbed into a kerchief and the goddesses who had come to share the
joyous occasion of her wedding did their best to comfort her.

"I don't know why I'm talking to you about this," Iapetos said at last.
"We don't even know how Metis feels. She may not want him now that he's
left her for another wife."

"Certainly she wants him," Prometheus insisted. "But you haven't asked
Themis, either." He turned toward the Titan-ess. "Lady Themis, do you
wish to remain married to this boy-now that you know why he married
you?"

The goddess only sobbed more loudly.

"Go and get Metis," Iapetos told his son. "Let's see what she has to say
before we go any further."

Prometheus stared at his father suspiciously for a moment. "And what
will you do while I'm gone?"

"Do? What can I do? We'll wait for you and the Okeanid to come."

"How do I know you won't force Zeus to renounce Metis while I'm away?"

Iapetos frowned in such a way that Prometheus suspected he might well
have intended to do just that.

"You swear you won't?" Prometheus insisted.

"Yes, yes, I swear. Now go-it's already late, and this may well take all
night."

Still Prometheus hesitated. He crossed the room and spoke softly to the
lesser goddesses. At his insistence each swore she would not be a party
to such a renunciation during his absence.

"And there'll be no other trickery?" he demanded of his father.

"No. Now go. Your suspicions of your own father are highly offensive."

Prometheus strode quickly from the room and out of the palace. He was
surprised to find a number of gods outside, standing just beyond the
steps. As he emerged, they gathered around him and began to ask excited
questions about Zeus, Metis, and Themis, displaying an astonishing
knowledge of all that had happened tonight. He ignored them as best he
could, even pushing some of the more insistent aside, then trotted off
briskly toward the Palace of Okeanos.

Since the other gods had left her, Metis had walked slowly about her
apartment, trying to occupy herself in tidying up. The disappearance of
Zeus had left her feeling hurt and puzzled. She had sorted through the
events of the evening and realized now that Prometheus might well have
coerced the youth into marrying her; but even if that had been the case,
it did not really explain Zeus's sudden absence. The boy was thoughtless
and self-centered, but he had never purposely hurt her before. Indeed,
he was usually very tender and solicitous. Whatever had happened, she
could not believe he had left her on her wedding night of his own
volition.

There was another possibility, every bit as troubling. It was unlikely,
but still possible, that some of his enemies had somehow learned of his
presence in her apartment. Helios, for instance, might have managed in
those few moments that Zeus had been alone to knock him unconscious and
carry him away. With a guilty start she realized that she was actually
hoping that something of that sort had happened, for that would mean
that her new husband had not abandoned her. As she worked, she tried to
concoct other, completely innocent explanations that would equally well
explain Zeus's disappearance, but could find none that were even
slightly convincing.

Her chores at last completed, Metis began to consider venturing out.
There was little likelihood she could find Zeus, and she had no clear
idea where to look for him; but the prospect of a fruitless search was
less troubling than to remain where she was, unable to do anything but
worry. She had already draped a cloak over her shoulders and was about
to open the outer door when someone knocked.

It was Prometheus, and he looked distraught. "You must come with
me-quickly."

"Have you found him?" Her entire aspect brightened at the thought.
"Where is he? Take me to him!"

"Yes, I've found him. Hurry."

She followed him into the corridor and down the stairs. Prometheus set a
brisk pace, but her slender legs easily outpaced him. She questioned him
repeatedly, but he refused to tell her anything more.

As they drew near the Palace of Themis, Prometheus halted. The small
crowd of gods that had been gathered outside a short while before had
now swollen to a sizable throng. Metis stood beside him, looking on in
puzzlement. Even as they watched, more gods continued to arrive. It was
a rowdy group, with a great deal of loud talking and not a little
shoving and cursing.

While they stood watching, another small group approached from behind
Prometheus and Metis-three youths, each carrying weapons. The Titan
stepped into their path to talk with them.

"Tell us, please-why are you and all these other gods here tonight?
What's happened?"

"They've cornered that rogue Zeus," one cried excitedly. "He's holed up
inside the Palace of Themis."

"And he's not going to get away again!" the second added.

"But what has he done to you?" Metis asked, stepping forward now. "Why
do you wish to harm him?"

"Alkyone was in love with me-until she met him," one said bitterly.

"And Kelaino with me," the second said.

"And Merope with me!" concluded the third.

Prometheus stepped aside and the youths rushed past them to join the
seething mob. As they watched a god climbed partway up one of the
columns outside the entrance of the palace and called loudly for quiet.
Prometheus recognized him immediately as Helios.

"Listen, all of you," Helios cried when at last the noise subsided.
Despite Menoitios's suggestion that he and his fellow conspirators step
back and let the mob do their work for them, the proud son of Hyperion
found it impossible not to take a dominant role in the proceedings.
"Even if Zeus is here, he may still escape us-unless we organize
ourselves. We'll accomplish nothing this way. We must work together if
we're to capture him, and quickly, before the gods inside become aware
of us."

"What shall we do?" someone cried.

"All of you over there," Helios continued, pointing to one group, "go to
the rear of the palace and stand guard, lest he escape that way. Others
must watch on each side of the building. Be prepared to chase him if he
seeks to escape by flight from one of the windows. He's skilled at
changing his form, so we must not let anyone or anything leave. Once
everyone is in position, I'll pound on the door and demand admittance.
If they refuse, we'll storm the palace together."

"They'll rip him apart," Metis said quietly, wringing her hands. "Oh,
Prometheus, what can we do?"

The Titan shook his head. "I don't know." He moved closer and slipped an
arm around her slender body. She seemed to appreciate the emotional
support he offered and leaned toward him.

"Please, Prometheus," she said, looking up into his face, "help me get
inside. I don't know if there's anything we can do, but we must try."

When the various gods had taken up the places assigned to them, Helios
approached the great bronze outer door and knocked heavily on it.
Eventually his pounding elicited a response, and Iapetos appeared at the
entrance.

"What do you want?" the Titan demanded, looking in surprise at the dozen
or so gods gathered nearby. He had no idea that two or three times that
number had already gone to surround the building.

"We know Zeus is inside," Helios said. "We have debts to settle with
him. Send him out."

Iapetos scrutinized the faces that surrounded the doorway. There could
be no doubt that their intentions toward the youth were unfriendly. "How
dare you issue commands to me?"

he demanded, hoping to intimidate them by his rank as leader of the
Titans, of which none of them could be unaware. "We have important
matters to discuss here tonight-matters that are of no concern to any of
you. You are interfering here. Go away. If you have some complaint
against the boy, bring it before me tomorrow. The Council of the Titans
will-"

A cry of dissatisfaction drowned out whatever else he was going to say,
and the crowd surged toward him. Iapetos stood his ground and shoved
back the first gods who reached him, so that they fell against those
behind them.

"Remember where you are," he warned sternly. "The palace of a Titan is
inviolate. If any of you dare enter here tonight without being invited,
you'll be held accountable before the Council. Do you wish to be
banished-or flogged?"

While Iapetos was arguing with the crowd, Prometheus took Metis's hand
and led her forward. He shouldered his way through the other gods, until
at last they reached the doorway and his father.

"Where have you been?" Iapetos demanded. "Look at what's happening
here!" He stepped aside to allow them to pass, then resumed his place in
the doorway, firmly repelling those who would have followed.

Prometheus found the scene inside the little room off one side of the
atrium little changed. Zeus still sat glumly by himself toward the back
of the chamber. Themis was still crying, and the two lesser goddesses
still sought to comfort her. Menoitios was enjoying the spectacle from
his position against one of the side walls. After speaking with his
fellow conspirators outside, he had returned to the palace, reasoning
that he was well positioned here to keep an eye on Zeus and help prevent
his escape; also, his father would be less likely to connect him with
the events that were likely to follow.

Metis halted just within the room. "What's going on here?" she asked,
turning to Prometheus for an answer.

The Titan took a deep breath, then told her. "Metis, there have been two
marriages tonight upon Mount Othrys. Yours was the first. As best I've
been able to piece together what happened, my father somehow discovered
Zeus in your apartment and brought him here, where the second ceremony
took place-between Zeus and Themis."

Disbelieving, Metis looked first at Zeus, then at Themis. "I really
don't understand," she said after a few moments. "You must explain more
slowly and completely."

Just then Iapetos appeared behind them. He had decided that it was
pointless to argue with the gods outside and closed the door on them. "I
sent for you," he told Metis, "because we must decide which of the two
marriages is valid. Prometheus claims the first, but I say the second.
Tell us, do you wish to be married to this scoundrel?"

"But why did he do it?" she asked, looking again at Zeus, this time with
a betrayed expression. The boy averted his eyes and appeared even more
uncomfortable than before.

"Because he was forced to, I'm certain," Prometheus said. "My father
undoubtedly compelled him to marry her. Zeus almost said as much. He
said my father wouldn't listen to his objections."

"And I suppose marrying Metis was completely his idea," Iapetos said in
annoyance. "You didn't have anything to do with that, did you,
Prometheus?"

"Let Zeus decide," Metis said quietly.

Twenty-Nine

"No," Prometheus objected. "You were first. Why should you give up what
is rightfully yours?"

Metis shook her head. "Let him decide."

From across the room Themis spoke up, daubing her eyes as she looked at
them. "I agree. Let Zeus choose between us. If he doesn't want me, I
don't wish to be his wife."

Prometheus and Iapetos stared at each other, then finally nodded their
agreement. They approached the youth. "Well," Iapetos demanded, "which
is your wife-Themis or Metis?"

Slowly the divine boy shook his head.

"You must decide," Iapetos insisted.

Still Zeus shook his head.

"What do you mean? Why do you not answer?"

"I won't choose between them. All this was your idea- yours and
Prometheus's. I care for both these goddesses. I suppose I really do
love them, though I hadn't stopped to think very much about it before. I
won't hurt one by selecting the other."

"But you must!" Iapetos insisted. His eyes were bulging and he clenched
his right hand into a huge fist.

"No!" Zeus said firmly. "All evening you two have been telling me what I
must do, and I've been doing it. No more. I won't make such a choice.
The goddesses may decide among themselves, but I won't."

Iapetos snarled in frustration and drew back his fist to strike the
youth. Prometheus stopped him.

"That will only make matters worse." He turned toward Themis. "My lady,
will you relinquish Zeus?"

"No!" the goddess answered quickly. "I love him. I've waited too long
for him. I don't care why he married me-if he was compelled to do it, or
if it was his first or second marriage. If he won't renounce me, I
certainly won't give him up!"

"And you, Metis?" Iapetos demanded. "Will you relinquish him?"

Metis had been struggling all this time with her own feelings. It hurt
her deeply to know that Zeus cared as much for Themis as for her, and a
part of her would have reacted in haughty pique, spurning him. Before
she answered, though, she looked again at Zeus-and her heart melted at
the sight of his handsome face. "No!" she cried. "Never-no matter what!"

"This is impossible," Iapetos cried. "You can't both be his wife. It's
unheard of. Such a thing is an abomination before the gods. Someone must
choose. If none of you will, then I will bring the matter before the
Council of Titans."

"They have no authority," Metis said. "Only Zeus and I-and Themis-can
decide such a matter."

"Then decide it," Iapetos cried in exasperation.

"I've decided. I won't give him up."

"Nor will I!" Themis insisted.

"Then what are you going to do? Share him?" Iapetos asked, trying to
point out the absurdity of their stubbornness.

"If the only way I can have him is to share him," Themis said, "then so
be it!"

Metis shot an exasperated look at the other goddess, then assumed an
expression of equal determination. "So be it!"

A loud noise came from the atrium. Iapetos had closed and barred the
outer door, trusting that none of those outside would dare enter by any
other route. He was wrong. At Helios's insistence, a god had climbed
through a window on the ground floor and unbolted the outer door. Now
the mob poured into the palace.

Iapetos rushed toward the door to the atrium, drawing his sword. "How
dare you flaunt the laws of the Titans? Leave immediately, or by the
Earth and starry Heaven I'll see to it that you're all tried and
punished tomorrow."

"There he is," one cried, pointing across the room at Zeus. "He's been
with my wife every afternoon."

"And my sister," another cried.

"And my daughter," cried others.

"Stay back, I warn you!" Iapetos swung his sword at those who tried to
make their way from the atrium into the smaller chamber.

Prometheus was armed only with a dagger, which he drew as he joined his
father.

"Give him to us," a bulky giant demanded, pulling smaller deities out of
his way so that he could stand directly in front of Iapetos and
Prometheus. "How can you defend such a knave? Do you know what he's been
doing in my household- with my wife, with my three daughters, with
almost every nymph and goddess in the building?"

"Whatever his crimes, they don't excuse your actions tonight. You have
violated this palace, which is a crime in itself. Go now, before matters
become even worse for you. Tomorrow I'll call together the Council of
Titans and you can make formal complaint against-"

With a growl the god attempted to shove his way past the two Titans.
"Enough of complaints and trials. We'll deal with the rascal ourselves!"

Behind him came others, and Iapetos knew he had no choice. He leaped
back two steps, then swung his sword. It bit deep into the god's
shoulder, nearly severing his arm; then he planted his foot on the god's
great chest and propelled him backwards so that he fell into the gods
behind him.

Prometheus followed his lead, shoving back the intruders when he could,
poking and stabbing with his dagger. Weapons appeared in the
crowd-knives and bludgeons, and a few swords. The younger Titan had to
dodge to one side to avoid an unexpected sword thrust; then he threw
himself on his assailant and wrestled the weapon from him. Now, with
both father and son armed with swords and unafraid to use them, the
crowd broke, retreating through the doorway to the atrium.

Together they swung the door shut. It was constructed from huge oak
planks and quite sturdy, but it would not withstand a concerted effort
to gain entry. The elder Titan pushed closed a pitifully inadequate
bolt, then began to wedge chairs and small, tripod tables against the
door.

Metis picked up the dagger Prometheus had dropped and tucked it into her
belt; then she turned to Iapetos. "Don't waste too much time there," she
told him. She gestured toward the broad windows on the opposite side of
the room. Through them a score of enemies could enter.

"Can we escape that way, before they think to come by that route?" the
Titan asked.

Metis shook her head. "There are at least two dozen gods milling about
below, some of them with spears. We'd be spotted before we could spread
our wings."

Now Themis came up to them. She pointed toward a doorway on the other
side of the room. "That room has no windows or other entrances. We can
barricade ourselves inside."

"Yes, that's our best hope," Iapetos agreed. "Quickly, everyone get
within. Eventually the other Titans will put a stop to this outrage."

Just then something large and heavy struck the door to the atrium with a
resounding crash. The great oak pianks groaned beneath the impact.

Metis and Themis ran to Zeus. A goddess took hold of each of his arms
and together they pulled him toward the other room.

A second blow struck the oak door, and the wood began to crack. From
outside they could hear coarse shouts and the sounds of running feet.
The noises indicated that other gods were joining those already within
the palace.

Iapetos stopped Prometheus, who was about to follow the others. "We'll
need to barricade the door to the rear room. Drag whatever you can back
there-anything heavy. You too, Menoitios-don't just stand there."

Menoitios reluctantly abandoned his seat and began to assist his father
and brother. Within two minutes the room had been stripped of everything
that might be of use to them, except those objects which were already
serving to barricade the door to the atrium.

A third blow snapped the small bolt, and now the gods outside began to
shove inward, slowly pushing back the chairs and tables that held the
door closed. Just as it swung completely open and the intruders poured
into the room, Iapetos closed the door to the rear room and slid into
place its equally frail latch. Then he and Prometheus began frantically
to pile furniture against the barrier.

When they had finished, Iapetos turned and looked at his companions. Two
small lamps burned within the room. Metis and Themis stood huddled close
beside their husband, one on either side of him, and the two lesser
goddesses cowered nearby. Menoitios leaned with his shoulder against a
wall, viewing the entire affair with an air of almost amused
disinterest.

"We've made a disastrous mistake," Iapetos announced a moment later. "If
they can breach the outer door, they can breach this one just as easily.
And now we have no place to retreat."

"Why don't you give them what they want? Undoubtedly he deserves
whatever they plan to do to him," Menoitios observed.

"Because they have no more right to violate the laws than Zeus does,"
Iapetos answered gruffly. "If such conduct is allowed, we'll have no
society."

Menoitios listened attentively, as if considering his father's argument,
then said dryly, "I see. It's wrong for them to act on their own,
without benefit of law and a proper trial before the Council of Titans.
Were you or I to do the same, that would be wrong too, wouldn't it? We
too would be taking the law into our own hands if we... abducted him...
or forced him to do something against his will." The boy grinned
sarcastically.

Iapetos caught his son's implication and glared at him.

"We've no time for this. Arm yourself and fight beside us, or stay out
of the way and be quiet."

Already fists were pounding against the second door, and they could hear
the cursing and shouting of the gods just beyond the barrier. Soon the
intruders maneuvered their makeshift ram into place and the second door
began to shake beneath its onslaught.

Metis had been standing beside Zeus, but now she drew from her belt the
dagger she had acquired earlier and started to join Iapetos and
Prometheus before the door. Zeus grabbed her hand and held her back.

"Don't," he said quietly. "You'll only get yourself hurt. You can't stop
all of this."

She tried to argue with him, but instead of listening he crossed the
room to stand just behind Iapetos. He had to touch the Titan's arm to
get his attention.

"Please put down your sword, Iapetos, before anyone else is hurt. I've
let this go on too long already. There are too many of them. Open the
door. I'd rather take my chances and try to escape them by myself than-"

The Titan's enormous arm swept out and struck the boy across the chest,
sending him sprawling backwards toward Metis. "Sit down," he commanded.
"I'm making the decisions here."

A second blow shook the door, the bolt shattered, and then the intruders
threw themselves against the barrier and forced it inward with their
weight. Iapetos sprang forward, swinging his sword at the hands that
gripped the door's edge. Severed fingers sprayed the room. Now Iapetos
positioned himself so that he could strike through the narrow opening.
Again and again his sword fell. Outside the wounded deities retreated,
screaming in pain, but others immediately took their places. The door
swung inexorably inward.

At last it stood open. Iapetos charged into the mob with Prometheus just
behind him. Chopping and hacking as they advanced, they pushed the crowd
back. Swords bit into shoulders and chests. All about them enemies
slipped shrieking to the floor, honey-thick, translucent ichor streaming
from ghastly wounds. But soon other gods appeared, using chairs and
tables from the atrium to shield themselves. They surged into the room,
until Iapetos and Prometheus found themselves wallowing impotently in a
sea of divinity, unable to move or strike.

Someone ripped the sword from Iapetos's hands. Someone tripped him and
someone else struck him heavily on the head with a piece of wood. He
went down to one knee. Prometheus was nearby, similarly beset. As the
father watched, a knife plunged into the son's neck from behind. Then a
second blow struck Iapetos, and a third. The Titan slipped to the floor,
unconscious.

Metis and Themis struggled to keep the mob from Zeus, but were pushed
aside. A half-dozen gods dragged Zeus back to the larger room.

"Here's a rope," someone cried. "Tie him up."

"Why bother? Punish him here."

"Wait!" Helios shouted loudly. He had let the others do most of the
fighting for him, but came forward now. "We must punish him properly, in
a manner suited to his crimes. Tie him tightly-so tightly that he can't
escape by changing his shape. Then we'll decide on the most suitable
penalty."

"Beat him." someone cried.

"Flay him," another suggested.

"Cut off his head!"

"It isn't his head that needs to be cut off," someone else observed.

"Cut off everything!"

By now Metis had emerged from the rear room. She pushed and shoved her
way through the crowd, until at last she stood beside her husband.

"Stop!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "You don't know what
you're doing. Stop this immediately!"

Themis had followed her and began to plead with the gods who held Zeus.

"Quiet!" Helios cried loudly. "We must have quiet." Slowly the room grew
silent, waiting for him to speak again.

"We must make an example of this scoundrel, so that no one else ever
dares to commit such crimes on Mount Othrys. We must-"

"Are you mad?" another voice cried-shrill and commanding. It came from
the doorway leading to the atrium, and the assemblage turned to look in
that direction. In the doorway stood the Titaness Rhea, outrage clearly
evident on her face. The tumult within the palace had caught her
attention as she was returning home, and she had followed the noises to
investigate. Slowly she advanced into the room, eyes blazing.

"Have you taken leave of your senses? How dare you lay your hands upon
this boy-upon the son of Kronos?''

A gasp went through the assemblage. They backed away from her as she
came forward, opening a path to Zeus.

"The son of Kronos?" someone cried. "You must be mistaken, Lady Rhea.
This is the son of Amaltheia-some fatherless whelp from the broad
earth."

"It is you who are mistaken! This boy is as much a full-blooded Titan as
any of you. He is my son and Kronos's- and destined to be your king. You
fools! Free him this instant-then bow before your future king and beg
his forgiveness!"

Pallas and Perses were standing on either side of the tightly bound
youth, holding him. As Helios watched, their hands fell away.

"Untie him immediately," Rhea commanded.

Pallas and Perses hesitated, then began to fumble with the knots that
held the boy.

Helios glanced through the crowd at Menoitios, who stood off to one
side, grinning and quietly enjoying everything that was happening. Metis
followed Helios's gaze and saw the younger god make a small gesture in
reply, as if to say, "Go on-don't worry about that!" The gesture told
her what she should have suspected before, that Menoitios and Helios
were united in working against Zeus and that Menoitios must have been
instrumental in bringing about these disastrous events.

"No," Helios cried, moving to stand between Rhea and her son. "Lady Rhea
must not know the magnitude of the crimes this god has committed. If all
his other crimes were not enough, this very night he has wed two
goddesses, flouting all propriety and law. Are we to tolerate such
behavior?"

"Whatever he has done," Rhea said, "so be it. Destiny is afoot tonight!
Don't you understand? This is no ordinary god. Your laws do not apply to
such a deity. Do you think you can bind the mammoth with the same twine
that holds the hare? Listen to me, all you foolish gods. This is my son,
who will one day rule the world-touch him at your own peril!"

Some of the gods were visibly cowed by her speech, but not Helios. "If
this is the son of Kronos," he said, addressing the crowd, "do we want
such a ruler? We've already had a taste of him. Is he what we want in a
king? Will we give up our wives and daughters and lovers-to a king who
won't be bound by the same laws we must obey?"

The crowd began to mutter. "He's right," someone called out. "I won't
have such a king!"

"We know his crimes-don't let him escape his just punishment," Helios
cried.

"But who will hold the sword? Which of us will dare administer the
punishment-and be held responsible?" someone else asked.

"All of us," Helios said. "Drag him to the sheer northern cliffs and let
him drop. The rocks will rip him into a thousand pieces before he
crashes to the earth below."

"Yes-to the cliffs!"

"You're all mad," Rhea cried. "If you touch him again-"

But it was too late. The mob surrounded Zeus and lifted him up. Metis
rushed to his side, drawing her knife to defend him, but she was quickly
disarmed. They carried him across the room toward the atrium.

Thirty

As they carried Zeus away, Metis tried again to rush to him. One of the
gods pushed her roughly aside, and she slipped to the floor. For a few
moments she lay there, crying, then slowly rose to her feet and looked
about the devastated chamber. Everything had been overturned and cast
about. Food and broken furniture lay scattered all around. The goddesses
who had served as witnesses at Themis's wedding were nowhere in sight;
probably they had fled at their first opportunity, Iapetos had recovered
consciousness by now and was cradling Prometheus in his arms, attempting
to staunch the flow of ichor from the wide wound his son had received in
the back of his neck.

Metis went to them and assisted the Titan in knotting a crude bandage.

"I must take him home and tend to him properly," Iapetos said. "Tonight
will be answered for tomorrow."

Prometheus stirred, opening his eyes and looking up at Metis. "Whatever
happens, you are still his wife-as long as you wish to be," he managed
to say, then lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Iapetos lifted his son in his arms and carried him out of the chamber.
Now Metis found herself completely alone.

What could she do? On all Mount Othrys was there anyone she could call
on to help Zeus? It might be possible to convince the other members of
the Council to take action-but could they possibly act in time? The sad
truth was that the boy had very few friends in all the world. Aside from
the goddesses he had so successfully romanced, there was only . . . Then
she remembered. If they had not traveled too far since she had seen them
earlier today, Zeus's deliverance lay almost at hand, in the foothills
below Mount Othrys.

Metis's lips spread into a triumphant grin as she rushed out into the
atrium and then down the broad steps that led from the Palace of Themis.
The savage Kouretes, the royal bodyguard of the future King of the Gods!
They would give pause to Helios and his rabble-if she could find and
bring them back in time.

The moon had risen, nearly full and quite bright, and she gave thanks
for the assistance it promised. By the time she reached the path outside
she had already grown wings. A moment later she was airborne, skimming
above the great groves and forests of the mountaintop as she headed
toward the cliffs from which she had seen Amaltheia and the Kouretes
that afternoon.

Luck was on her side. She had barely reached the cliffs and begun her
descent toward the many valleys below when she spotted what could only
be a number of campfires. They were clumped close together in what
looked like a wide clearing near the base of the mountain, and she
altered her course and glided down toward them.

Arching her wings at the last moment to slow her rapid descent, she
landed near the middle of their encampment. At her sudden intrusion, a
hundred shaven-headed warriors sprang up around her, brandishing their
spears. Fearless eyes blazed at her from ferocious, chalk-streaked
faces.

Metis drew back a step to avoid being pierced by a spear thrust. Before
she could speak another figure appeared-a goat of divine proportion. The
creature came directly toward her, bleating in an almost inquisitive
manner.

"I am Metis, daughter of the Titan Okeanos," she announced, addressing
Amaltheia. "I come from Mount Othrys to tell you that Zeus is there-and
in terrible danger. Soon many gods will drag him to the edge of the
mountaintop and throw him over the side, so that as he falls he'll be
ripped apart on the jagged rocks. He needs your help now more man ever."

Amaltheia bleated again, insistently. When Metis only stared at her, one
of the warriors stepped forward-an enormous god, tall and powerfully
muscled. He spoke gruffly, though there seemed to be no antagonism
toward Metis in his tone.

"Lady Amaltheia asks that you show us which of the many peaks you mean."
He spoke slowly, as though speech were not a familiar task for him.

Metis turned and pointed, then answered the warrior's questions until he
was satisfied that he knew exactly where she meant.

"But we're wasting time," she continued. "I'll lead you there. We must
hurry. Please come quickly."

Amaltheia's ears were up-perked as she listened to everything the
Okeanid said. Now she barked an order, and instantly all around them
naked warriors scurried to gather and pack their supplies.

"No," Metis said. "I'm afraid you don't understand. There's no time for
all of that. You must grow wings immediately and follow me, or it'll be
too late."

Amaltheia stared at her for a long moment, then slowly shook her shaggy
head. The warrior looked sad.

"Neither we nor Lady Amaltheia are capable of doing what you wish."

"You can't fly?" Metis demanded incredulously. Many of the lesser gods
and goddesses were unable to form wings or accomplish any sort of
metamorphosis, but she had not considered that possibility. "Then
there's no hope." She fought back tears of frustration. "I must go back.
I must find some way to help him."

"We will follow you," the warrior said. "We can scale the mountain. All
the Kouretes are great climbers."

"If you like," Metis said quietly, "but it'll make no difference. You
can't possibly reach the summit in time. The way is far too steep on
this side and it would take the better part of a day to go by a
different route."

"We have ropes," the warrior said.

The Okeanid continued to shake her head. "You'll have to travel far to
the west before you find a way that's passable. I must go now. Come when
you can." Her voice grew suddenly hard. "You can help me punish them!"

She left them, flying faster than she had ever flown before.

Meanwhile, Themis and Rhea had followed the torchlit procession of
outraged deities. Pleading and weeping, they ran along beside Zeus, who
was trussed from head to foot with tight ropes and carried horizontally
on the shoulders of a half-dozen gods. Again and again they tried to
pull him free, but each time were roughly pushed away.

The mob had proceeded only a short distance when Zeus's captors began to
hear noises from nearby-loud shouts and gruff laughter. As they rounded
a thick grove of cypress trees they met a second procession, nearly as
large as their own. At its head, tightly bound from head to foot and
lying supine upon the shoulders of the gods who bore him, rode a divine
figure of imposing ugliness, with the ears, horns and legs of a goat.
The two groups halted, eyeing each other curiously.

"Make way," the leader of the second group called out. "We've captured a
dangerous criminal and are on our way to punish him."

"Oh?" Helios replied, staring at their unlikely captive, who was clearly
visible in the combined light of the moon and the bright torches that
surrounded him. "And who is your great criminal?"

"An intruder," the other leader replied, "a villain and a scoundrel. In
a single evening he's committed more outrages than any of us can recall
since the Titans came to Mount Othrys. Now move aside and let us pass."

Helios shook his head. "We have an even greater criminal, whose outrages
certainly outnumber those of your misshapen god, if only because he's
been among us longer and so had more opportunities for mischief. You
step aside, and let us get on our way. The upstart Zeus has enjoyed the
hospitality of the Titans far too long already."

"Zeus?" a surprised voice cried from within the second group. "Is that
who you have? Let us help punish him."

"Where are you taking him?" the leader asked.

"To the northern cliffs where he can fall all the way to the earth
below. This god came to Mount Othrys by himself, but we're going to
assist his departure. We're going to push him over the edge and let him
slide and bounce his way to the bottom."

The leader of the second group turned toward his followers. "That's a
good idea-much better than burying this freak of a god with rocks in the
great pit. Let's take him there too, and treat him to the same speedy
departure. After a lesson like that, it'll be a long time before either
of them troubles us again. There's plenty of room along those cliffs,
more than enough for all of us. Clear the path. Let our friends pass by
and lead the way. This should be most interesting!"

Helios grinned, then signaled the gods- nearest him to hoist up Zeus
again and continue their march. The second group waited for them to
pass, then fell into line behind them.

As she flew back up the mountainside, Metis strove to find some way she
could aid Zeus. She was heartened to discover the northern cliffs still
deserted and sped on past them, having decided to plead Zeus's cause
before Hyperion and the other members of the Council. As she flew she
spotted the torches of the mob in the distance; she was pleased to see
that they were progressing very slowly, but dismayed to find that the
rowdy group had nearly doubled in size.

In no mood to stand on ceremony, she swooped down and alighted upon a
high balcony of the Palace of Hyperion. She knew where the Titan's
personal quarters were and went directly there. She found Hyperion in
bed and shook him awake.

The Titan listened tolerantly as she launched into her frantic
explanation. "Please, my lord," she concluded, "come quickly. You can
prevent your son from making a terrible mistake. He'll listen to you."

The Titan shook his head. "Helios may indeed be in the wrong. He often
acts in a headstrong manner. Such things should indeed be brought before
the Council and not acted on by individuals, but he and virtually every
other god on Mount Othrys has had more than adequate provocation. I
can't say I blame my son or anyone else-except this upstart Zeus. No,
Metis, I won't help you. The boy's only receiving what he's amply
earned."

Stifling a sob, Metis left the room and returned to the balcony. Where
could she look for help now? Hyperion was the only Titan who might have
dissuaded the mob, she decided. They had paid no attention to Iapetos,
or Rhea, or Themis, and certainly would be equally unmoved by anything
Crios or Koios might say. If only Zeus had more friends on Mount Othrys
. . .

Another idea struck her-wild and improbable. But any possibility was
better than simply giving up. Zeus did have friends here, many
friends-all female. If she could gather enough of those goddesses and
get them to the cliffs before it was too late, they might be able to
save him. After all, those goddesses were the daughters, wives, and
mothers of the very gods who were intent upon casting Zeus from the
mountaintop. And if feminine pleas failed, they might even be able to
wrest the youth free by superior numbers.

She flew directly to the Palace of Atlas, entered and made her way
toward the apartments shared by the Pleiades. If she could convince all
seven of Atlas's daughters to help her, she thought, she could then send
each of them off to spread the word and recruit other godesses to hasten
to Zeus's aid.

Within a few minutes she had them gathered together and once again
launched into her recital. Before she could finish, the beautiful
maidens-down even to little Maia, the youngest-began rushing about
excitedly, dressing and preparing to venture out.

"We mustn't forget our mother," Alkyone pointed out. "She's as fond of
Zeus as we are."

The maiden rushed out, returning a minute later with the hastily dressed
Pleione. The older goddess wiped sleep from her eyes and smiled at
Metis.

"What's this all about?" she asked. "Is Zeus really in trouble? Just a
little while ago the Muses told me that you and he were married tonight.
Is that true?"

Utter silence fell upon the room. Each of the Pleiades turned and stared
at Metis.

"Y-yes, it's true. The story's long and complicated, but-"

"He's married?" Asterope demanded. "You're his wife?"

"Yes," Metis said. "I really don't have time to explain right now."

Merope was seated in a chair and had been in the process of tying on her
sandals. "Well, isn't that sweet?" she cried, and instead threw the
sandal across the room at Metis. "The no-good trifler! Instead of the
cliffs, they ought to drop him off the edge of the world. And if you
want to jump after him, I won't complain!"

The sandal missed Metis by half an inch. "I don't understand," she said.
Frowning, glaring faces surrounded her. "I thought you were his
friends."

"I think you'd better go now," their mother said quietly.

Stunned by their unexpected reproach, Metis fled from the palace. If the
Pleiades responded in such a way to her pleas for help, could she hope
for any greater success with the other goddesses of Mount Othrys? The
question was moot now, anyway; she could spare no more time. If Zeus
were to be saved, she would have to do it herself, somehow. She took to
the air again and flew rapidly toward the cliffs.

While Metis had pursued her futile attempt to find allies among the
Titans, the unruly caravan had wound its way slowly through the hills
and forests of the mountaintop. Twice Helios had lost his way on the
narrow, seldom traveled trails and been forced to backtrack, with much
attendant grumbling and many catcalls, so that Metis reached the wide
clearing near the cliffs almost at the same time the procession did. The
gods who had been carrying Zeus dumped him unceremoniously upon the
ground, and those who transported Pan followed their example a short
distance away.

Metis rushed to Zeus and knelt beside him, seeking to assure herself
that he had not been brutalized during the journey. As soon as she could
make her way through the crowd, Themis joined them, kneeling on the
other side. The distraught goddesses kissed and caressed the handsome
boy, and wept over him. Within moments, though, Metis regained control
of herself and began to slip her hands beneath his body, her strong,
nimble fingers searching for the knots that held him. Themis soon
realized what she was attempting and tried to assist.

Rhea had found Helios and again began to harangue him. When he could
stand no more, he had two gods gently but firmly remove her to the far
side of the clearing.

"You gods over there," he called, "gather kindling and build a great
bonfire for us. Some of our torches are already about to burn out, and
others will soon follow."

"Why?" someone demanded. "Let's toss them over and be done with it."

During the long journey, Helios had had time to think, and his thoughts
had left him decidedly uncomfortable. He detested the Council of Titans
and was happy for any opportunity to flout it; but what they were doing
tonight was a good bit more serious than dropping snide comments or even
picking fights with the sons of Council members. Even ignoring Zeus's
supposed destiny to become the new King of the Gods-and he was sure the
other Titans would view that in the same dim light he did-the boy was
the son of Rhea, a Titaness everyone revered. Without doubt there would
be a great deal said about this affair tomorrow, and for many days and
weeks to come.

The more he considered, the more convinced he became that he must do
something to lessen his own too-public culpability; at the same time, he
had already committed himself so fully that he could not back away now
without exposing himself to charges of cowardice.

It was one thing to ignore the authority of the Council; after all,
nearly everyone agreed that it was a hopelessly flawed institution,
mired in indecision. To act swiftly, to administer decisive justice,
would be admirable in the eyes of most of the gods, and might even
advance Helios's general scheme of discrediting the Council. But to
ignore the laws and traditions of the Titans was a very different
matter, and a very dangerous one. He might well find himself in a
situation from which even his influential father could not extricate
him. He had to be able to argue the justice of his actions tonight, and
the only way he could do that convincingly was to provide Zeus and this
outlandish other god with a trial of some sort-however swift or biased.

"Quiet!!" Helios yelled out above the voices of the gods who had
gathered around him. "Do you wish to be branded hot headed villains
tomorrow? We must give these rogues a fair trial-and then throw them to
the rocks below.''

Another roar of disapproval met him, and for a moment he thought the mob
might push him over the cliff's edge before turning on Zeus and Pan. He
kept talking, raising his voice higher and higher to be heard, and soon
the other gods began to listen and finally to see the wisdom of his
suggestion.

While this was happening, Menoitios stood near Zeus. Becoming suspicious
of Metis and Themis, he walked nearer. "What are you doing?" he
demanded. Then he cried, "Come help me. They're trying to free him."

Four gods joined him and pulled the goddesses away, taking them to the
other side of the clearing. They stood together there, finding an
unexpected comfort in each other's company. Rhea was near them,
vigorously scolding the gods who restrained her.

The bonfire was soon blazing, and Helios set the first trial in motion.
Witness after witness came forward to accuse the shaggy god and related
his outrageous conduct in pursuit of the goddesses of Mount Othrys. When
the last witness had finished, Helios had Pan brought near the fire and
asked him to answer the charges. The god was still tightly bound and
stood stiffly upright as he looked across the sea of angry faces that
surrounded him. At last, unable to find anything to say, he shrugged and
grinned foolishly. They carried him back and threw him down again near
the edge of the cliff.

"What do you say, gods of Mount Othrys?" Helios demanded. "Is this god
guilty or innocent? Does he deserve the punishment for which we've
brought him here?"

"Guilty!" the throng cried. "Punish him!"

Now it was Zeus's turn. God after god stepped forward into the light of
the bonfire to catalog the shameless misconduct of the deity; the
recitals were lengthy and emotional, since most had numerous incidents
with which to illustrate the righteousness of their wrath. Outraged
husbands and fathers followed outraged brothers and cast-off lovers.
Whole families had been seduced and defiled. As the magnitude of the
youth's transgressions became clear, the anger of the mob grew, and
Helios had difficulty keeping them from falling upon him immediately.

"Have you anything to say for yourself?" Helios asked Zeus when the last
witness had finished. He addressed the youth where he lay, not daring to
have him brought within easy reach of the gods milling about the fire.

"Nothing I say will change your minds," he answered. "Therefore I will
say nothing."

"Then we have only to make our decisions. What do you say, gods of-"

"I will speak!" Metis cried, worming her way through the crowd. A cry of
dissatisfaction greeted her, but she came forward bravely and
immediately launched into a plea for mercy based upon Zeus's youth and
inexperience. Even as she spoke, she knew her arguments were completely
inadequate. Were he some other god, she would have been every bit as
shocked and outraged by his conduct as they were. But she was hopelessly
in love with him, and so she tried to make them see Zeus as she saw him,
tried to make them understand that they were looking at only one
unfortunate aspect of a very special god, who would in time outgrow his
youthful excesses.

The crowd hooted her down, and at last she desisted and returned to her
place near the edge of the clearing. Themis and Rhea wanted to speak
too, but the crowd refused to listen.

"Gods of Mount Othrys," Helios called out, "what is your decision? How
shall we answer this scourge that has fallen upon us? Is the god called
Zeus guilty of these crimes? Shall he be punished?"

The roar of affirmation was deafening.

Helios gestured toward the captives."Lift them up," he commanded. "Stand
them at the very brink, that they may look down at what awaits them."

Gods hastened to accomplish the task. Metis came forward again,
insinuating her way through the crowd. She had no idea what she would
do, but was determined to do something.

Now Zeus stood with his toes at the very edge of the precipice. Below
him lay an almost vertical wall of rock, dropping away nearly six
thousand feet to the earth below. Much of its surface was concealed in
deep shadows, but the area he could see was sufficiently terrifying.
Jagged points of rock protruded at irregular intervals from the
otherwise sheer surface.

"Prepare to push them over," Helios commanded.

"No!" Metis cried, pulling free of the crowd and rushing toward Zeus.
Menoitios was standing nearby, and he leaped forward to intercept the
Okeanid. He threw his arms around her and pulled her away, laughing in
her ear.

"Do you remember how Zeus made himself look like me, so that Kronos
would think I was his enemy? This is his reward. Do you remember what
you did to my pet? The saber-tooth, the one you made fall to its death?
This is your reward, too!"

"Ready?" Helios called, raising his voice so that he could be heard over
the tumult.

Before the gods who held Zeus and Pan could answer, another voice cried
out-from the periphery of the crowd. It was a cry of pain, and as Metis
looked toward the sound she saw gods scattering in every direction.
There was another sound-was it bellowing? Gods were screaming now and
trampling each other in their effort to get out of the way. Through the
crowd came a large, dark figure with two long, spiraling horns that
flashed white in the moonlight. A god shrieked as one of the horns
impaled him, and then he was tossed over the beast's head, toward the
edge of the cliff.

The figure paused near the middle of the clearing and Metis could see it
clearly-it was Amaltheia, the goat goddess. But how could she have
reached the mountaintop so quickly, without being able to fly? It was
impossible, and yet here she was.

Now Amaltheia saw Zeus and Pan, and with another cry, which Metis
interpreted as a sort of enraged bleat, she charged the gods who held
them. They, too, fled, joining those who had regrouped a short distance
away. Menoitios released Metis and she rushed toward Zeus. Amaltheia
spun toward her, as if about to attack; but the goat goddess recognized
the Okeanid and instead turned her attention back toward the cursing,
shouting gods now moving to surround her.

Zeus was so thoroughly trussed that he could not walk by himself. Metis
edged him away from the precipice. At his insistence she did the same
for Pan; then she returned to Zeus and began frantically to try to untie
him. There were many knots, all soundly tied, and her fingers soon ached
from the effort.

Weapons flashed in the crowd, and gods stepped forward with spears,
jabbing or throwing them at Amaltheia. The goat goddess seemed oblivious
to their attacks. Again and again she charged at those who dared step
into the clearing. The spears struck harmlessly against her impenetrable
pelt and fell away.

By now Helios had recovered from his surprise. "Are we going to let this
creature defeat us?" he demanded of those nearest him. "It's only a big
goat. If we act together, we can grab it by the horns and render it
harmless. Then we can throw it over the edge."

No one seemed anxious to undertake such a mission. At last he saw Pallas
and Perses and went to them. He explained what he needed them to do, and
the three stepped into the clearing and cautiously approached the
gigantic creature. They spread out around her, and when she turned to
attack Pallas, Helios leaped to her side and took hold of her horns.

He was very strong, among the largest and most powerful of the Titans,
and when he yanked backward the goat goddess's front legs came free of
the ground. He lifted her until she stood on only her rear legs, then
started to walk her toward the edge of the precipice.

"Ha!" the Titan shouted. "This is how it's done, my friends. Here's
another for the cliff tonigh-!"

He grunted. His wide grin froze on his face, then dissolved into a look
of incredulity. His hands slipped from the goddess's horns, releasing
her, and moved instead to grip the thick shaft that protruded from his
side. He turned to look in the direction from which the spear must have
come-saw a ferocious, naked, shaven-headed warrior running toward him
out of the forest-and fell forward on his face.

Pallas and Perses drew their swords and started toward Helios's
attacker, who was already recovering his spear from the fallen Titan;
but now a second savage appeared, his chalk-streaked body gleaming in
the light of the bonfire. As he advanced he beat his spear against his
shield in an unnerving staccato.

Pallas went down with a spear through his chest, and Perses backed away
so rapidly that he stumbled and fell.

"Who are these gods?" Menoitios asked, looking helplessly around him.
"Why are they here?"

Someone pointed, and Menoitios saw a third savage advancing, then a
fourth and fifth. The sound of spears beating against shields had become
very loud, and now he realized that its volume foretold still more
warriors making their way through the dark forest that grew near the
cliff.

Menoitios looked at Zeus. Metis had almost finished untying him. He
waited until no one was in a position to interfere, then darted toward
them across the clearing. Metis looked up as he was almost upon them.

"You aren't going to spite me like this!" he shouted.

She pushed Zeus aside just as Menoitios's outstretched hands were about
to thrust him over the edge of the precipice. Somehow Menoitios caught
himself at the last moment, avoiding the fall he had intended for Zeus.
He swung quickly around toward them again, his face burning with
indignant anger.

Metis stepped toward him. "Oh, yes, I am," she said pleasantly, giving
him her sweetest smile. Placing both hands firmly on his chest, she
pushed. His arms flailed frantically in a hopeless attempt to catch his
balance, and then he tumbled over backwards. His screams ended abruptly
when he hit the first rocky projection.

A score of savage warriors had positioned themselves between Zeus and
his enemies, and now those warriors began their irresistible advance,
beating slowly upon their shields. The gods of Mount Othrys had rallied
near one side of the clearing, and with loud, angry shouts they ran
toward their adversaries, throwing their spears and clubs and wielding
their swords. Their missiles fell harmlessly against the shields. One
after another they met the glistening bronze spear points of the
Kouretes and slipped shrieking to the rocky ground, until those who
remained turned and fled back through the forest toward the safety of
their homes.

By now Metis had finished untying Zeus, and Themis came to stand on the
other side of him. Rhea rushed to her son, kissing and hugging him.
Amaltheia soon joined them, rubbing her head against the youth's leg and
gratefully receiving his affectionate caresses.

"I don't understand," Metis said. "Neither Amaltheia nor the Kouretes
can fly. It would take a very long time to scale Mount Othrys and they
only learned of your plight a little while ago, just after you were
taken from the Palace of Themis. How could they possibly get here so
quickly?"

Zeus laughed. "You forget that Amaltheia is a goat-a divine one, but
still a goat. Climbing is second nature to her. The side of the mountain
is very steep here, but probably not so bad farther down-for a goat."

"But what about the Kouretes?"

"I'll find out." He left them and went to speak with one of the
warriors, returning a minute later.

"They had ropes with them and tied some together, with many knots for
handholds to make climbing easier. Amaltheia carried one end up as far
as it would reach and secured it to a rock. When the Kouretes all
ascended to that point, she carried the rope up again, so that they went
straight up the mountainside, reaching the top quite rapidly."

"We must go soon," Rhea told them. "The gods may return in force."

Zeus was again standing near the edge of the cliff, with an arm around
each of his wives. Metis glanced across at her rival, who was clinging
to him and resting her cheek against his shoulder. A twinge of jealousy
made the Okeanid stiffen beneath his affectionate caress.

Just then a shout caused them to look toward the bonfire. The Kouretes
had formed a circle about it and were beginning a savage dance.

Zeus grinned boyishly. "It must be their battle dance-or victory dance,
I'm not sure which. I used to hide nearby and watch them when I was a
child." He fell silent for some moments, still watching the warriors,
his mind far away. "Do you know what I've always wanted to do?"

Metis and Themis looked up at him, but he left the question unanswered.
Instead he slipped his arms from about the beautiful goddesses and went
toward the bonfire. Pan had been freed by now, and as they watched he,
too, crept forward. Soon the two youths were leaping and prancing with
boyish abandon among the savage warriors.

Metis smiled despite herself, then sighed and shook her head. She looked
at Themis, then back at her new husband.

Oh, well, she thought philosophically; if nothing else, at least from
now on life was going to be ... unusual.