The youth stared at him for a moment. "All right, forget it! Whatcha eatin'? What's in th' poke?" He gestured toward Demo's pouch.
"Food, good food. Would you care for some tasty viands?"
"Vines? Did you say vines? That ain't vines you're eatin'.Looks like meat to me. You got any more?"
"Yes, try it. You'll find it quite tasty. My mother dried it under the sun, salted it herself."
The suppliant tasted the dried venison, looked at Demo in disbelief. "Hell, I'm going to the Salvation Army. You really eat this stuff!"
A large horseless chariot pulled up alongside him. A woman starred at him through some strange, clear material. She smiled, then laughed. He looked around to see what caused her laughter.
Nothing untoward met his sight. Ill-dressed heathens strolled aimlessly, it seemed, along the wide pathway. No, there was nothing amusing to be seen.
Frowning, he continued to eat his dried venison. Two men dismounted from the chariot, and it drove away, moaning in a disquieting manner.
Inside the passengers were looking at him through the viewing space in the rear.
Perhaps it is my garb. Here they dress strangely.
"Hare Krishna?"
One of the passengers who had descended addressed him.
"No, Demo."
"That's a new one. Is it Indian?"
"I don't think so. Greek."
"Greek? Well, new ones are popping up all over. Here, just to show you I'm open-minded, I'll donate a couple of bucks. Good luck."
The man walked off, murmuring, "Demo, and Greek! L A is the place, I'll tell you!"
He approached a large building. It had openings through which he could see, but could not enter. However, watching the strange people he noted an entrance that resembled a whirligig. My, he thought, how many years since I played with a whirligig. Anyway, as people went in and out, the door rotated.
Finally, he entered the building.
A boy stood in front of a silver recess, leaned down, and a gush of water rose, striking him on the mouth. Only then did Demo realize he was thirsty. When the boy moved Demo approached the recess, leaned down.
Demo frowned. Nothing had happened.
He leaned forward again. A man looked at him, "Hey, it ain't broke again, is it?" The man pressed the button and a stream of water struck Demo's face. He sputtered, then drank thirstily.
What part of Olympus is this, he thought. It resembles nothingI've seen before.
Nevertheless, it was becoming gradually familiar. He entered a little room that had the picture of a man on the door. After watching a few moments he found himself well versed on the facilities.
Fortunately, item after item followed a similar pattern. The important thing was to watch. The paper given to him earlier served as money. You used money to buy from machines and from individuals. Of course, how to get money was unclear.
Then he thought of the boy who had asked him for a dollar. Of course, just ask.
He tried it. At first he felt a little strange, for time after time the individuals he asked seemed a little embarrassed, finally provided either coins or paper. "Damn cults everywhere. All right, here, just leave me alone."
The young supplicant soon found his purse bursting with paper.It was a strange phenomenon. Ask for money, it is given to you.Give it to machines, to individuals, and they give you products.Not too unlike home, except for the first step.
Cronus frowned.
There is something I've overlooked, he thought to himself.Something important. Well, tomorrow I'll get around to it.
The thought struck him.
Demo! He had been aging Demo! Then, he had helped his wife with the sundial. Then . . . . Oh, ho! The boy! What of the boy?
"Ah, I've lost him!" He spoke aloud. "I've let him slip off, and I didn't really note to where - rather, to when. Drat, it's inconvenient. I suppose he'll show up by and by, sometime. Yes. I wonder, what time?"
At that moment he heard his wife calling. Evening meal was ready. Thank goodness, I am famished, thought he.
It was a delicious meal.
Demo left the building, watched the chariots stopped in the broad streets, growls issuing from inside. At times other sounds issued from the vehicles. Loud and raucous, the sounds repeated and repeated, as though some musical instruments were being played out of tune. Accompanying these sounds were screams and yells of tortured innocents.
He could only assume that, in some manner, the chariots had malfunctioned.
Duane Golchick and Ralph Fulcere waited nervously outside the bank door. The customers were thinning out as three o'clock closing time neared. Finally the last of the stragglers left.
Duane and Ralph entered quickly.
"Say, I'm sorry, we were just closing." The guard smiled, motioned them toward the door.
"Just walk over to the counter with us. Put your hands behind your neck and hold 'em there." Duane spoke in a half snarl, held a revolver in his hand.
The guard noticed the nervous motion of the gunbarrel. "Okay, okay, don't be nervous. Whatever you say! Just take it easy! No one's causing any trouble."
"All right, listen up!" Ralph shouted. "This is a holdup! Any screams, any alarms, and we'll take you out. And we don't care who we shoot first, so you heroes just give it a try. Open it up, babe."
He indicated the gate leading behind the counters. The clerk nervously fumbled with the catch, finally opened the gate.
Duane and Ralph cleaned out the drawers, stuffing bills into a garbage bag. "On the floor, all of you. Hands straight out, legs spread, face down. Lift a head, move a muscle, and you're history!"
The left the building quietly. No one had moved. No one was moving now. They ran for the car, parked in a nearby alley.
A man in blue stopped Demo.
"Those arrows real?"
"Oh, yes, very real. Deadly, too. I've killed many a buck with them. Won a few tournaments, too."
"I thought so. You got a license to carry a deadly weapon? You ain't some kind of kook, here to kill off as many as you can, are you? Here, you better give me the bow."
"Oh, no, I couldn't do that! It's been in the family for generations. My Father used it to kill the sea serpent. And his Father before him to kill fire dragons. I just couldn't part with it."
The policeman, for such he was, looked at Demo in astonishment."Oh, boy! One of those!"
He took out his communicator, called for reinforcements. "Were standing in front of the alley next to Martin's Bank. Seems like a loony. Anyway, so far he's not violent. Get some reinforcements over here, before he does go off his rocker. And tell Sue warm up my pizza. I'll be in about two hours from now. You let her know."
He had hardly signed off when he felt an object pressing against his neck. "Your in our way, Mr. Man. Now just pull out that gun and let it fall, real easy. Now, put your hands behind your head. Up against the wall. Spread 'em!" Ralph was relishing the situation.
"Get the gun and let's get out of here. You, get out of the way." Duane motioned to Demo, who stepped politely aside.
The two men entered the car, rev'd up the engine, pulled out into traffic.
"Stop them! Stop! Police!" The officer shouted.
Demo notched an arrow to his bow, drove it through the right rear tire of the vehicle. He then repeated the process with the left tire.
The car abruptly swerved, ran against the curb, jumped it.
Crashing into a store front, the engine died.
Almost at that instant the reinforcements arrived and hurried to the car.
"My God, it must be the kook with the bow. Look sticking out of those tire! See if anyone is hurt. I've got him in sight."
"Drop it, drop it now! I'll shoot!"
Demo glanced at the approaching form. This also was a blue clothed one. He turned to his companion. "Is he talking to you?"
"Hey, it's all right. He's okay. Get them gorillas in the car.Hurry, they're getting out!"
Everyone rushed madly toward the chariot. For a moment Demo watched, then turned with a shrug. An interesting, but kind of strange, sport.
"Hey, Guru, tell me what life signifies. You still chomping that dried junk?" The boy who had asked for a dollar was grinning at him.
"My name is Demo, not Guru. Yes, I rather enjoy dried venison."
"Look, Guru, no offense, eh? You got cover for the night? The Y has some pads open. They get taken in a hurry, so you better scat over there if you want one. Gonna rain before morning. Say, I'm Randy. Look, I can't pronounce that Demo bit, so you're Guru. Don't let it throw you."
"Cover? The Y? Ah, shelter from the rain? Yes, that would be well. You are kind. Where is this Y?"
"Hell, I'll baby sit you a while. Just follow along, sport."
They located an available pad, and Demo found himself in a dormitory filled with numerous unique individuals. The glances he received indicated that he won honors for uniqueness.
It is a law of nature that, for things to go right, there is only one viable path. For things to go wrong, the paths are infinite. Demo continued down one of the infinite paths.
Cronus had indeed attempted to make contact, return Demo to his own time and place. Cronus selected the right time without difficulty. Place, however? Well, place threw him a curve.
Demo had gone wandering off.
Cronus had rather limited power so far as space is concerned. Given sufficient time - of which he was the sole master - he could examine the reaches of space. And examining the reaches of space was his immediate goal.
He began the task methodically.
First, he returned himself to the time and space when he was occupied with aging Demo. Then he moved forward (time-wise) to that point in time when he was distracted. With care he then gave careful thought to the next incident.
Unfortunately, he found himself in the predicament many of us face from time to time.
He had a sudden mental lapse.
As the saying goes, the right words were on the tip of his tongue. Stubbornly, unfortunately, they clung there tenaciously. Grumbling, he vectored forward in time once more. I'll sleep on it, he decided. Tomorrow is soon enough.
Demo, if he were asked, would not have agreed.
Randy woke him early. He knew it was early because it was dark. Also, because he was sleepy. He was not by any stretch of the imagination an early bird. Au contraire!
They left the building hurriedly.
"Nice place and all," Randy noted. "Just keep in mind, some strange people stay here. I'd rather not meet them outside. 'Nough said?"
They walked along the pathway, which Randy called a sidewalk. Demo noted that he himself was rapidly developing an extended vocabulary of words, mainly from listening to Randy.
"Look, we got to scrounge some eatables, you know, food. Now there's a place over on 5th . . . ." He paused as Demo smiled, motioned toward his pouch.
"We can buy food. My pouch is full of paper, eh, money. Gifts!Dollars!"
Randy stared at him for a moment, put his hand in the pouch and pulled out a few bills. "All right, man! You are with it! Okay, let's hit this place across the way. I could use a good meal for a change."
The waitress smiled at them, looked at Demo's garb with curiosity. "Look, no offense, but you Joe's got cash? The boss is real mean about that!"
"Of course we got cash! Hey, show her, Guru!"
Demo pulled a handful of bills from his pouch, stuck them back in.
The waitress stuck out her lower lip, nodded. "Okay, here's the menu. What'll you have? The western omelette's not bad. Makes a good meal."
Randy ordered the omelette and coffee.
"I'll have the omelette and milk," Demo decided.
"Hey, Guru, where'd you get that rig? What's your thing, anyway? You're awful close mouthed."
"Randy, you ever hear of people traveling through time?"
"Oh, great! All right, forget it. Sorry I asked."
"No, really, I'm serious. I'm from Greece . . . from long time ago Greece. Don't ask me how I got here. I really don't know. And I don't know how to get back." Demo's disconsolate look almost convinced Randy.
"You are one good actor. I'm ready to break out a hanky. Look,I was out of line. You don't have to tell me anything. Hell,I've told you practically nothing about me, now have I?"
They finished their omelettes, and Randy was sipping his coffee when Demo glanced out the window.
"It's him! It's Cronus! I'm going back! Randy, thank you for your help. Here, take this money."
Demo pulled out handsful of bills, laid them on the table in front of Randy.
"Cronus! Come off it!" Randy glanced out the window.
A tall figure, dressed as was Demo, stood on the sidewalk. His face was grim, and he was making some weird, ritualistic motions. Randy looked toward Demo.
Demo was fading. At the moment he seemed at some point between clear jello and fog, with fog gaining the upper hand.
Randy reached out to grab Demo. His hand passed through the image in front of him, touched nothing.
He stood up, threw his arms around his new found friend.
A chill ran through him.
The room was darkening. His vision blurred.
"Not me! Leave me here! I belong here! I . . . ."
The words faded.
He was now part of the fog. He could see nothing, hear nothing.
But he knew things were happening.
Strange things.
The waitress stood beside the table, eyes wide. "Boss, I don't feel too good today. I think I better take the rest of the day off."
"You can't do that! Cecilia is ill, Grace is on vacation!Anyway, what's the problem?"
"Two boys! They were sitting here. I brought them omelets. Now look! They're gone. They didn't pay me, I didn't see them leave, they left all this money. Something is really weird. I think it may be me."
"Nah! Here, let me check the washroom. Anyway, what if they slipped out. That'll pay for the meal and leave you one real fine tip."
In a moment he returned. "Ain't no one back there. Two of 'em, eh? Look, don't let it bug you. They probably are just having fun, playing a joke on you."
"Well, I don't like this kind of joke. All right, I'll stay.Say, I sure feel odd."
Randy looked around wildly.
The city was gone, the restaurant, the building even.
Around him were trees, a nearby brook, some birds singing. Demo was sitting on a log nearby.
"Man, what have you done to me? What is going on here. I don't like this. No sir, I don't like this at all!"
"Randy! Randy, what in the world are you doing here? Cronus must have brought you too. Oh, boy! What a mess."
"This . . . ." Randy hesitated.
"This th' place you were talking about. Look, I'm sorry. I thought you were putting me on! I wonder why'd he bring me here? How'm I gonna get back. Who is this Cronus? You tell him, I want to see him, and right now. He can't push me around this way!"
"Just calm down, and for goodness sake, don't talk like that! It's just an accident, just some kind of accident. I'm sure he'll send you back. Well, I'm kind of sure . . . ."
He wasn't.
Randy languished. Rural atmosphere and bucolic settings were great TV fare. Who wants to actually live such a life! No way!
Demo attempted to teach him hunting.
Randy proved that, with considerable effort and practice, he would never be a hunter. The trees chosen as targets survived unmarked. Arrows vanished into unlikely places.
Chariots in lieu of cars did not sell to well. First, Randy was scared of horses. Second, he couldn't tell his gee from his haw. Third, he wasn't interested.
However, one aspect of Demo's world did indeed interest Randy.
At the evening meal Theresa chanced by, was introduced, and Randy's eyes lit up. Rural atmosphere, bucolic settings - in the right company they could be tolerable.
He started by telling Theresa of all the wonders of the 20th century. She suggested he drink less wine.
He explained to her the pleasures of flying. She gently suggested he learn to drive a chariot.
He told her of the convenience of food dispensing machines. She explained to him how gardens could be grown.
They fascinated each other.
Cronus made known to Demo that he could now handle sendingRandy back to his own time and place.
Demo explained this to Randy.
Randy looked at Theresa, who looked wide-eyed at Randy.
"No way! I'm here, and here I'll stay!"
Demo looked at them both, nonplused.
He reported the state of events to Cronus. Cronus consulted with Zeus.
"Ridiculous," Zeus growled. "Ship him out!"
"Absolutely not!" Hera cried. "It's very romantic. Let him stay."
Being a wise husband, Zeus recanted.
Should you have read of the mysterious disappearance of RandyBocksteil, and wondered what happened, you now have the details.
Randy became a mediocre farmer. He learned the rudiments of hunting, of skinning and quartering deer.
He learned, alas, how to make the potent wine of the region.
When newcomers visit the village, and Randy has sampled his own wine, he explains to them the wonders of the 20th century.
They suggest he drink less wine.
It was said of Dionysius that, if he did not steal it, he would do without it.
It was said of Dionysius that, if he did not kill, he would call the day a waste.
And so it was.
Dionysius came with a band of pirates from a peninsula lying far to the west. He came at night, landing on the shores of Greece in the early dawn of day. He killed a soldier guarding that shore.
Dionysius killed without hatred, killed quickly. Some joyed in toying with their victims, inflicting pain. They wished to stretch out the victory. They reveled in the growing fear felt by their opponent. Watching in glee as their opponent realized his impending fate and became increasingly desperate, they delayed the inevitable. Then, when the game began to wear, they cruelly and slowly mutilated their prey. Eventually, tiring of the game, they dispatched the helpless victim.
Dionysius' pirate companions were of such nature. He despised them, traveled with them only for his own ends.
Once they had made shore, dispatched the guard, he left them to their own devices. He began a sojourn to the mountains. To the mountains where lived Demo.
Demo pursued the deer in the foothills. They had migrated down from the mountains during the night. He found their spoor beside a clear branch whose cold waters they had come to drink.
Demo followed the trail from the branch deeper into the green copses. The deer were cautious, kept moving. He pursued them as they drifted toward the distant seaside. At times the wind shifted, and they caught his scent. They scurried quickly into the deeper forest.
He moved carefully from tree trunk to tree trunk, keeping the obscuring bushes between himself and the herd. Finally the distance was right, and he drew his bow.
Even as the arrow flew the deer began to bolt.
Too late for the buck he had chosen! It fell to the ground with a shudder as the arrow entered its heart. He moved forward quickly to bleed the carcass.
Only then did he see the cause for the deers' alarm!
Dionysius stepped from the shadow of a tree trunk, sword in hand.
"Good shooting. Don't reach for another arrow. I believe I shall take that buck. Be so kind as to carve it for me. And I would not try to use knife against sword. At least, not until the buck has been carved. Then you may try what you like. Lay down the bow!"
Reluctantly Demo unstrung his bow, placed it on the ground.
I deserve to lose that buck. To have failed to watch, listen carefully! He stalked angrily to the deer, began cleaning the meat.
While cutting he watched the robber with careful eyes. If the fellow dropped his guard! Forlorn hope. It did not happen. Then he noticed something new.
The birds on the shoreward side became suddenly noisy, then broke into flight. Their flight was followed only by silence.
Something, or someone, was approaching!
He went on with his task, while his eyes searched feverishly to see who approached.
She stepped into view at the edge of the small clearing.Smiling she approached.
"Demo, I was told you hunted here. Ah, what a fine buck! You never miss, do you?"
"Theresa, go home! Quickly!"
He stood erect, stepped between her and the swordsman.
The latter smiled, swished his sword through the air in melodramatic gesture. "Not so quickly, my lady. We haven't yet been properly introduced. Boy, where are your manners?"
Theresa shrank back, took a deep breath, turned toward the forest.
"You run, the boy dies!" Dionysius' voice was gruff, angry.
Slowly she turned back, eyes wide with fear as she glanced atDemo.
"Theresa, run! Now!"
She obeyed!
"Boy, you call for your own death!" Dionysius growled angrily.
Dashing into the forest, she ran with all possible speed toward the village. In the fields at the village's edge she saw her father with other farmers.
"Demo! He's in danger. A swordsman has him prisoner."
They gathered their tools, and her father his longbow. "Show us!" her father commanded, grim-faced.
They arrived in time to see Demo toss the buck's haunch at Dionysius. He fell back to ward it off, even as his sword was impaled by the meat.
Demo lunged forward, wrestled with Dionysius before the latter could free his sword. His own knife fell to ground.
Suddenly Dionysius released the sword, dove to the ground and seized the fallen knife.
He smiled as he stepped toward Demo.
Only then did he note the ring of farmers at the forest's edge.And most of all he noted the longbow, drawn, in the hands ofTheresa's father.
Dionysius, stopped, bowed. "Here, boy, you'll need this to finish cutting the meat."
He extended the knife, hilt first.
Demo took it, cautiously, backed off.
The farmers quickly tied their captive, led him back to the village. A messenger was dispatched, and soldiers came quickly. Dionysius sojourn had ended
18. The Fates
"Now, my boy," Zeus began with a friendly smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Now, you see, I have this problem. Nothing to tumble Olympus, of course. Still, a problem. And you are going to have the privilege of resolving it. It may well be your claim to fame. No, just joking! It's really minor." He glanced around, lowered his voice.
"My boy, it involves women. Now, I'm not a misogynist - eh, the dictionary is on that stand over there. In spite of being . . ." He halted, glanced carefully around once more. "In spite of being married to Hera, I do love and respect beautiful women."
"However, I am Zeus! I am master of the heavens, of earth - and if Pluto would fight fair, of even the nether world! And in spite of that these three - Women! - are flaunting their power as though I were impotent. Powerless!"
The clouds were forming one on top of another over Olympus.Suddenly Hera entered, and angry look on her face. "Not over myflower bed. You've already washed away two of them. Stop it!Right now!"
Zeus blinked. "Yes, of course, my dear. Merely explaining a few things to the boy here." He took a deep breath, let it out slowly while watching the clouds with anxious eye. They slowly began to dissipate. Zeus smiled a wan smile.
"Lovely woman. A little impetuous at times. Loves that garden."
"Let me see. We were talking about this little task. Well, what I'd really like for you to do is to bring me some items. It's kind of a game, really. Yes, a game. A scavenger hunt!"
"And you, my boy, you will undoubtedly be successful. Three items. Simple little items. Nothing controversial. No indeed. Wouldn't think of it."
"Have you ever been on a scavenger hunt?"
"No. No, sir. Never."
"Really great fun. I recall when I and this bevy of Naiads . . . Well, no need to trouble your mind over that . . ." Zeus was silent for a moment, a slight smile on his lips as he reminisced.
"On a scavenger hunt you go out and locate the items you have been told to bring back. And you bring them back, and you win. That simple. So be on your way, now. Don't slam the door."
"Yes, sir. I mean, no sir. The items, sir?"
"Oh, of course. A pair of scissors. I told you, nothing rare or controversial. Thread. Yes, plain, ordinary old thread. And a spinning wheel. A little large and awkward. But, I assure you, not too much so for a youth of strength and stamina. Three items. I think you'll enjoy this scavenger hunt. I really do."
"There are those - you'll find this unbelievable, but have faith - There are those who believe they have the power of life and death. Well, I'll have you know it lies in my hands. Do you doubt? Shall I demonstrate?" Zeus face was reddening, and clouds were once more forming above Olympus.
In fact, he noted them. "Ah, well, yes, have to watch that. Let's not become perturbed. Oh, Heavens no. My boy, enjoy your scavenger hunt." He waved grandly.
"Oh, let me help you a little. Three sisters, and I'll not tell you their names, have the very objects for which you search. Lovely ladies, and I'm sure they'll do all they can to bring your search to a quick end. Very quick."
He found himself in the midst of a glade. And well it was, for rain was beginning to fall, and the trees protected him from the cold drops. Scissors, thread, and a spinning wheel. Why, he thought, I can get those from Mother.
Suddenly a shudder ran through him. He did not move. He knew. The unseen companion was there. Waiting, waiting - waiting for what? What event would trigger the inhuman hatred radiated by this strange creature. Always there. Never fully seen.
He rose slowly, glanced fearfully around the glade. "Come out, if you dare. I await your pleasure."
He thought he heard the rustle of leaves. Quickly he glanced upward. The leaves were indeed moving. This time they were stirred by a vagrant breeze. He shook his head.
He knew - though he knew not how - that the scissors, thread, and spinning wheel of his mother would not serve. These must come from the three sisters. The lovely ladies mentioned by Zeus. In the back of his mind he thought of stories he had heard. Perhaps, at some early age, he had heard of the three sisters. Sadly, he could not remember. Who are they, and where do they dwell?
Startled, he looked up. The leaves were again moving. This time, no breeze caused this disturbance.
A large bird, perhaps a white owl, flew rapidly through the forest and in its wake soft white down marked a trail. A trail he knew he must follow.
The skies darkened as he stalked deeper and deeper into the forest. In time the wooded vales grew even darker, and the sky no longer came to view. A thought formed in his mind, he knew not how. He knew for whom he searched.
The thought brought sweat to his brow. The Sisters of Night!How often had he heard the legends, the strange tales. How oftenhad they spun the thread, how often cut it! It must be they. TheSisters of Night!
He was lost. The trail was no longer marked ahead, and behind was only darkness. Slowly he inched forward, hoping for a clue. A simple indication of which way to proceed.
He heard the sound and joy almost made him sing out. She has returned, he thought, glancing to his right. And then he froze. Indeed he had heard sound. And indeed was something there. Something huge and monstrous, too near to be imagination; too far to be clearly seen. The unseen companion! With him still!
He notched his arrow. It was too late. Even as he moved the rain fell heavy and he could make out, not even the trees before him. He waited. Only silence. No further sounds were heard. With a sigh he returned the arrow to its pouch.
A flash of lightning lit a rocky rise before him, and he noted the mouth of a huge cave. Slowly he inched up to the opening, slowing stared into its depth.
Though nothing met his eyes, yet there seemed a light, a small flickering light, somewhere in its deep within. Cautiously he moved forward.
"Welcome, Welcome, Young man! We've been waiting. What kept you so long? Hurry along now, The thread is growing short. Come along."
He blinked. She wasn't there a moment ago! Waiting for me? I don't understand!
"Madame, there is a mistake. You couldn't have been waiting for me. I don't know you. I had no intention of stopping here. I . . ."
She smiled. And though she were old and wrinkled, her eyes brightened like a happy child's. "Come along. You'll understand by and by. Come along."
She led him ever deeper into the cavern. The flickering light grew ever brighter, and seemed to flicker no more. Finally his companion motioned for him to stop. "Mustn't frighten them. 'Twould be terrible if they made a mistake. Terrible!"
"Clotho, he has arrived. Lachesis, welcome him. Come, my dear." She led him forward, and he bowed to the ladies who looked up from their labor, glanced at him without emotion or even interest.
"Girls, girls, are we that old! Look at him. Isn't he a handsome one. Ah, how sad. To die so young!"
"Atropos, your were always one to talk too much. Here are your scissors. Now get on with it!"
Clotho was busy spinning a thread. Her spindle moved slowly at times, then rapidly. Lachesis, bent forward, examining the thread, comparing its length to an unseen measuring stick. "Right about there, sister dear. Oh, give him another inch. No harm done. He is a handsome young man."
Atropos looked at the scissors handed her, sighed. "I would it were otherwise, young man. But we are duty bound. Nothing can stay us from our labor."
Wide-eyed he stood as the scissors opened, approached the thread. "Wait! Zeus, Zeus, He wants you. You must cease immediately. He eagerly awaits your company."
"Zeus! Olympus! Parties! Dancing! He wants us. Child, you can't mean it. 'Twas he who banished us to this cold, dank cave. And now he wishes our return? Well, he's plainly drunk too much of that nectar. I knew it would eventually get to him. Clotho, have you a thread for Zeus?"
"Oh, never. Well, I admit, I tried. After all, it wasn't at all nice of him to send us here. Anyway, it kept unraveling."
"Lachesis, give the boy another foot or two. Oh, give him an extra yard. Boy, we'll get dressed as soon as we've put away our tools. Zeus wants to see us!"
"Eh, please, don't put away your tools. He is extremely interested in your skills. You must bring them along."
"Learned to appreciate us, has he? My, how many eons has it taken! Oh, very well."
He led the way and in due time they arrived at Olympus. "Wait at the gate, I'll announce your coming." He smiled at their activities.
Clotho was practicing her curtsies, Lachesis her bows. Atropos smiled a broad smile, then a more reserved one, then tried a calm yet quiet visage.
"Zeus, sir, I have them. I have them."
"Well done. Amazing. No! Not really. I always knew you had the right stuff. Of course, to scavenge the items I fear you had to terminate the owners. It is sad. Still, what can one do? Bring them in, bring them in. Scissors, thread, and spinning wheel! Wonderful, wonderful!"
"Oh, no sir. I didn't have to terminate them. In fact, they're here. Come in ladies, and receive your welcome."
Zeus opened his mouth, closed it. He looked at the threeSisters of Night. He looked at Demo.
"Yes, brought them with you. Yes, very thoughtful of you. Thank you, my boy, thank you. Don't call me, I'll call you."
With that Demo found himself in his own home, in his own room, rolling off his own bed with a thud.
Rough barked joyously, leaped upon him in frantic welcome.
"Ah, that Zeus! I really wish he'd not do it that way," he said aloud. "Mother, I'm hungry!"
19. The Stables
"I'm delighted, my boy, that your chores are almost completed. Delighted!" Zeus didn't look delighted. Rather, he seemed put out. Jolly voice and all, but that scowl!
"Now, this next task. Represents a logistic problem, really. Time consuming, rather than difficult. Your qualifications are such that you'll have little trouble, I'm sure." Zeus smiled, as though at some secret humorous thought.
"I'm into some real estate deals. Brought a few places down on earth. Boy, was I taken on this one. Oh, was I taken. Shysters and developers! I must visit Pluto one day and see if he has room for any more. They are overrunning his place, I'm afraid." For a moment Zeus fell silent. His thoughts were evidently on his brother's domain, and the shysters and developers dwelling therein. A bright smile lit his face.
"To the matter at hand. I brought this ranch. Excellent property, very reasonable price. Closed escrow and all that. Then I thought to look inside the stables. Gad!"
"Poor suffering creatures. Horses, excellent horses.Unfortunately, locked in those stables for eons. Eons and eons.Maybe longer. To summarize, the place was not entirely sanitary.Now be off with you and get it cleaned up." He guffawed ratherloudly.
"Oh, here. This may help." Zeus handed Demo a broom, a mop, and a clothespin. "For the nose, you understand."
Demo arrived unceremoniously at the stable doors. He was greeted by the local population, consisting of many and varied forms of flies. Black flies, white flies, colorless flies - all eager to make his acquaintance.
Shooing them away he slowly opened the stable doors, quickly closed them.
Impossible! No mortal could possibly clean up this mess. Still hadn't a hero, long ago, faced a similar problem?
Yes, yes indeed. And he had solved it. Solved it by merely changing the course of a stream. Simple enough. Now where might he find a stream.
There was one, and at not too great a distance.
Well, it is only a creek. Nevertheless, it's all I have. So let's give it a try.
He worked diligently, opening a channel to the very door of the huge barn. As night drew near he began to dam the creek, forcing its waters to divert to his newly dug channel.
The youthful civil engineer smiled.
The water was beginning to flow. Quickly he hurried to the stable, dared the flies, and threw wide the doors at both ends of the edifice. Fortunately he wore the clothespin.
The water was moving ever closer. The chore was indeed a simple one.
He looked up, and frowned.
The sky had darkened, and even now huge raindrops began to fall. The mild creek was rising higher and higher. The dam, built to withstand that creek, was faced with an ever deepening, ever angrier river.
The water reached the top of the dam, flowed now heavily through the channel, washed at the very entrance to the stables.
Suddenly the dam began to move, at first slowly. A crack appeared in the middle. It widened.
Water began to seep through the crack.
Water began to pour through the crack.
The crack was gone!
The dam was gone!
Demo sat down, stared in disbelief.
In moments his hours of work destroyed! The rock, the mud, the good green sod - all gone.
And the stable, fly infested, standing as before.
Even as he looked a swarm of flies rose, moved in his direction.
Quickly he retreated.
This required rethinking! Not so simple a chore as he had thought!
Back to Olympus! I must talk to Zeus! No way!
He arrived at Olympus. Zeus was absent. "He is on a . . .," his gardener smiled, ". . . on a hunting trip." He winked.
Suddenly a loud screech disturbed their ears.
"Oh, dear!" The gardener wrung his hands. "That's Hera! The flowers are growing so poorly. I've spent hours tending them. But they will not grow in this kind of soil. I've told Zeus a thousand times. Olympus is just too pure!"
Hera entered.
"I will not have my flowers drooping, my bushes wilting! I may well have my gardener in that condition if he tends not to my garden!"
The gardener cringed.
"What are you doing here. Did not Zeus send you out on another of his ridiculous chores. Begone, then, for I am not fit company today!" She stomped back to her patio, giving one last angry look at the gardener.
Demo frowned. "Well, I wish I could help. Anyway, I'm not much of a gardener. I know we use fertilizer on our plants. Mostly we use . . . ." He paused. A thought had entered his mind.
"Sir, perhaps this is your lucky day!"
"This boy, eh, the one who sold you the fertilizer for the vinyard and for Hera's garden," Zeus paused, a slight frown on his face. The clouds above Olympus darkened, and a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. "This boy wasn't too smart, you say?"
"Oh, no! Smart? Ha!"
"At first he wanted ambrosia, wine, women - for fertilizer! Ridiculous! He talked! And talked. The more he talked the less he decided to charge. We waited quietly." The gardener smiled.
"His charges dropped?"
"His charges dropped!"
"Still we waited! Aha! Finally he agreed that it was all ours, if we would give him just one bottle of wine and agree to move everything within 3 days! Oh, he was a cute rascal! We just outwitted him. Yes, eventually, he came our way. Merely a matter of waiting." The gardener's smile broadened.
"Yes," Zeus mused. "A cute rascal, indeed!"
"So, this callow youth, this dunce from the barnyards, practically gave away his, eh, merchandise?"
"And did you, eh, move all this fertilizer? Within 3 days?"
"Oh, yes, sire. Indeed we did. We didn't want to give him the chance of changing his mind. I had to call on all the Gods - save yourself, Sire - to get the job done. Such dedication. Even Hera carried her share. Lovely wife, Sire, lovely!"
The gardener smiled. Zeus nodded somewhat glumly.
"And we gave him 5 bottles of wine to insure he gave no further thought to the fertilizer or the stables."
"What! What is this! Stables! Did you say Stables!" Zeus brow was dark, and the clouds above Olympus now roiled and flashes of lighting lit the dour sky.
"Why, yes, sire. It seems that, through negligence, the stables had not been cleaned in - well, in a long time. One might say they were a bit ripe."
"And the horses! Poor things! They were indeed in need of washing and curry-combing."
"But, to the matter at hand. Yes, stables they were. And full to the brim with excellent fertilizer. Oh, such gardens as we shall have this spring! I'm sure you will be well pleased."
Zeus sniffed the air. Zeus seemed to be not well pleased. He was muttering to himself.
"Callow youth? Stables? Fertilizer? I will have his head . . .!Buying it from him with my own goods! Inconceivable!"
"Had all the Gods and Goddesses hard at work. That's somethingI've never accomplished. Ah, perhaps he might fit in well atOlympus!"
Dionysius sat quietly in the prow of the boat. The ferryman was silent, merely guided the craft on its way. The craft moved of its own volition.
"How come I here? Who are you? And what is this body of water on which we float?"
The ferryman stared at him in steely silence.
Dionysius glanced around, studied the ferryman, the boat, the dark liquid on which they floated.
"I was condemned, and the execution was for tomorrow. I had venison for supper - stupid cook burned it badly, gravy was tasteless. Then I slept. Someone roused me and we went to the execution chamber. They readied me for the blade. I remember cursing them soundly, one and all. I was bound and the executioner made ready. Did I faint? Did you rescue me, or was it another? What pay do you expect for this service? I am a poor man, so don't expect too much!"
Although the air was dark and gloomy Dionysius was beginning to feel cheerful.
"However it was done, I am thankful. And you shall all be rewarded. Before I stabbed the old priest I learned from him the location of the temple's treasure. I saw it with my own eyes. Jewels, money, golden goblets and silver. Yes, indeed, you shall be rewarded."
He smiled.
He sniffed the air.
"The sewers must lead into this stream, the smell of burning sulfur irritates my eyes. How much farther until we reach shore? There is a strangely unpleasant odor about this place. I like it not. Will you speak, or shall I toss you into this filthy stream!"
He rose, stepped toward the silent figure.
Suddenly he stopped.
The ferryman neither shrank from his approach, nor responded. His face was hidden by the hood he wore. Yet his eyes shone from beneath that hood.
The look from those eyes froze Dionysius in midstep.
"No! No! It is a bedtime story to frighten children. What are you telling me . . . ."
His gaze shifted from stream to boat, from boat to ferryman, from ferryman to stream.
"It is a fairy tale, nothing else. Take me to the shore!" His voice was once more threatening.
Suddenly he sat down, held his head between his two hands, sobbed quietly.
"It's true, isn't it? This river - Styx is its name. You are the ferryman. This gloom is not the dark of night. It's all true!"
Suddenly a thought came to mind.
"Then you are . . . You are Charon. And I must have - yes, here it is. Your toll. Take me then to the Elysian Fields. Quickly, take me away from this dreadful place."
He extended Charon's toll.
The figure made no move to accept.
Rather, a deep and melancholy voice responded. "Your stop is not the Elysian shore."
Dionysius gazed at the dark figure, at the coin. Reluctantly he let the coin fall, watched it disappear into the depths of the murky water.
He was silent.
What more was there to say!
20. The Demon's Lair
There are dark grottoes in the high mountains. And tarns, deep and cold, bottomless pits of murky water. And in some few favored spots, dark grottoes and murky tarns together.
Such was the site at which Demo stood.
Here dwelt one whom even Olympians fear. This was the Demon'sLair.
The village folk had long remembered legends. Hoary legends, whispered around campfires during winter storm. Used to frighten children to mind their manners. But only legends. Or so Demo had long believed.
Something - no one spoke a name - there was. Or something there had been. Something that preceded even the Titans, that ancient race from whom the Olympians were descended.
The Titans, so the tales went, had not conquered it. Rather, they had duped it, deceived it, and encaged it in bars not of this world. Bars that, until now, had held. Bars that, perchance, were weakening with the passage of eons.
Whispered conversations on earth, whispered conversations on the pristine streets of Olympus, told of an ominous presence. Not seen, nor heard - still dread of this unknown creature stalked the night as might stalk even the creature itself.
Idle chatter of fearful children? Old wives tales from the back woods? Or something else, something evil. Something so powerful that even the gates of Olympus stood not against it.
No one knew.
And that was why Demo stood at the gate to the demon's lair.Zeus would know what manner of creature was there imprisoned.Zeus would know what manner of prison held such a creature inthroe.
Who better to send than Demo? If he succeeded, another task marked off. If he failed, one less concern as Athena chose another.
Demo gazed into the still water of the tarn, touched its surface with his hand. He gasped at the chilling cold that seized his entire arm.
Was this then the tarn of which he had been forewarned? Would here the strange tie between himself and the unseen companion be severed - or brought to its inevitable conclusion?
It seemed fitting!
No drearier spot had he seen. No gloomier grotto existed in these mountains. If doom hung over his head, it could not choose a place more suitable than this!
He resigned himself to the inevitable!
The sun slipped swiftly behind the western peaks, and cool night breezes stirred the leaves. Swallows swooped in the darkening sky, and night creatures called one to another as day ended.
Come morning and he would search further. For now, a fire, food, and a night's rest.
The flames reflected from the precipice's base, their warmth welcomed as cool night crept in. Beyond the fire light nightsounds rose and fell, now near, now far.
He added wood to the fire, wrapped himself in his Eddie Bauer mummy bag. Ah, how pleasant to sleep after a long day's journey.
It was a sleep beleaguered by dreams. Dreams of he who dwelled in the deep tarn. In the dreams the creature came forth, looked down on the sleeping youth. It's eyes were cold, held deadly enmity.
Yet, it did not strike. Motionless it observed him, turned, and descended once more into the frigid waters.
Morning came early. Demo sat up, wide-eyed. From the tarn's brink to his resting place he saw footprints. A great weight had pressed them, even into the dryer ground. They turned back, led once more to the tarn.
Demo closed his eyes, breathed deeply. What manner of creature, and why had it turned away, doing him no harm? The footprints, though huge, seemed hardly those of some monstrous being capable of frightening even the Lords of Olympus.
Demo stirred the ashes to reveal hot colds beneath, fed twigs and breathed gently on them to kindle a fire. As he placed larger branches on the flames he heard behind him the sound of measured footsteps.
With a start he turned.
The man looking down at him loomed tall and ominous. He showed no emotion. Rather, his face was calm, nor did his demeanor suggest threat. Slowly Demo rose, glanced toward his bow and quiver.
The man smiled.
"It would avail thee not. Rest easy. I mean you no harm. You, in turn, may be of aid to me. Why am I here, summoned from an age yet to be, a world far removed? Did you summon me? I think not. You are only a child! What can you tell me of this place, and of that one who stole from the cold waters in the dark of night?"
"Who are you? You were summoned? How so? From an age yet to be, a world far removed? I understand not your words. Still, if you were summoned I can think only that it was the work of Zeus. No, perhaps not. Athena may have brought you here to provide succor for me on this strange sojourn."
The tall man squatted before the fire, warmed his outstretched hands. "Strange names, these. Zeus? Athena? I know them not. And how might I, Beowulf, provide succor to one such as you, when I seem unable to even help myself. I sit here, lost, knowing neither north nor south, east nor west."
He spoke quietly, calmly. For all the strangeness of these proceedings, his face showed no fear, his eyes reflected only constant vigil.
"I can tell you why I am here. Zeus sent me to find what creature is imprisoned beneath these waters, and what manner of prison it be. It is plain, from your words; and from the prints upon the shore, it is imprisoned no more."
Beowulf responded musingly. "I walked 'neath moonlight across the moors, alone. The sound of wings, and huge white owl flew by. And then the moors were gone, moonlight faded, and I stand upon this forsaken shore of some strange pond. I feel overcoming me a dread that once before I felt, only once before. And that when I fought 'neath murky waters with the mother of Grendl. Is there no end? Have I come here once more to meet a fiend in mortal combat? And each more powerful than that which went before?"
Demo eyes lit up. "It was Athena. She knew of you, though you had never been. And if she has brought you here, it is with good cause. Grendl, and the mother of Grendl. Who, or what, are these of which you speak?"
"Fiends, creatures of night and corruption, that prey on good folk, weak and helpless. Alone I have met them, and that in their own lair, and brought upon them such destruction as they had sown. Monstrous though they were, yet did I feel not dread as I feel in this dark cove. What manner of creature dwells in yonder tarn. In my mind my thoughts are dark, and Wyrd himself peoples them."
"Wyrd? I know of Zeus, of Pluto, and of others of like ilk. I know not Wyrd."
For a moment Beowulf sat silent, eyes on the ground before him. "Wyrd is he who awaits us. Before all, he was. When all has faded and passed on, he will be. Though I fear him, I shall not bow to his power. Strangely, I believe he dwells here. I know not why."
Demo spoke now, glancing at the tarn in apprehension. "Legends have it that, before the Titans ruled, another walked this world, held it in a grasp of iron. Then the Titans beguiled him in some strange manner, and with fetters formed of dreams entangled him. After that, that he might never again escape they locked him away in caverns far beneath Tartarus' depths."
He gazed at Beowulf, back at the tarn.
"It is said he once more walks the earth, and he is not a stranger even to the streets of Olympus. Nameless among us, perhaps Wyrd is the name he bears."
Beowulf took from its sheath his sword. Light reflected from its surface in strange patterns, and the sword's edge seemed alive and moving in the sun's rays.
"I grow old. Yet, it seems, there is one more toil, one battle more. Well, so be it. Every man dies. But it is given to some to live and die for a cause. For a cause that makes their having lived worthwhile. Boy, I will stand beside thee. Against this one none has ever prevailed. How will fare a boy, and an old man?"
He laughed. "Well, well, until I came none had prevailed against Grendl. Nor against Grendl's mother. Be of good cheer. We shall do what flesh and blood can do. And if that be not enough, then surely we shall die as men, sword in hand!"
The day passed swiftly, and shadows were lengthening. Demo built a fire, warmed the food his mother had hastily packed. Beowulf ate of dried meat he carried.
"Your friend, I think, will return once more this night. Sleep by your fire. I shall rest against the trunk of that oak, and when he comes I will greet him. If your Zeus be powerful, pray unto him, for this night one walks the earth as evil incarnate. And of us three, I fear none shall view a rising sun."
Beowulf rose, walked to the tall oak, sat at its base. He lay the naked sword across his lap, closed his eyes. Whatever dread he felt, it showed not in his demeanor or action. Though he slept Demo knew no sound or motion would escape his attention. It was the sleep of one ever alert, ready for the life and death struggle that might lie ahead.
A fog rose from the cold surface of the tarn, and driven by a light breeze, drifted onto the shore. Demo huddled close to the fire, eyes watching anxiously that fog-shrouded tarn, the mist-shrouded trees. His hand clutched his bow, and an arrow lay beside him, ready to be notched.
With sunset the grotto lost all semblance of light. Vague winds rustled tree limbs, calls of night birds sounded, and other sounds. Sounds that brought quick apprehension to his mind. And then they faded - then returned once more.
Suddenly Demo sat up!
He had fallen asleep. A noise, a movement? Something had surely wakened him.
The crescent moon had risen, and in its light the trees and bushes cast soft shadows.
Quickly he glanced toward the huge oak.
Beowulf was gone!
Slowly he turned his eyes toward the tarn.
It was there!
Moving toward him with deliberate stride, dark except where the moonlight reflected from its eyes.
Quickly he notched his arrow, drew the bow.
Nearer it came, and nearer. It seemed nearly upon him when he loosed his arrow. It struck the creature full in the chest, dropped harmlessly to the ground.
"Athena, farewell!"
The creature's claws touched his arm, cutting effortlessly through cloth and through flesh.
"Face me, worm of death. I've traveled through space and time to challenge you, and you return to your lair only through me."
The creature rose, loosed the boy. It turned to face Beowulf.
Throughout the forest the scream of anger sounded!
It charged the waiting swordsman.
Claws extended, fangs bared, it leaped with fury on its foe.
Quickly they were joined by sound of blows, the whistle of Beowulf's blade in air. With every motion the sword gleamed with a strange and changing light. Now a deep and glowing red. Then a green that seemed to flow its length, changing to sunlight yellow. And all besmeared with the blood of Wyrd!
Blood flowed, both red and green!
Beowulf fell before the onslaught, rose again.
Demo watched, transfixed. Even in the horror of nightmare was not seen such fearsome battle!
Wounded both and bleeding, and still the battle continued!
The moon dropped from view, and the gentle stars looked down on the frenzied struggle.
In despair Demo saw Beowulf fall, his sword dropping from his hand.
Demo lunged forward quickly, was struck down as quickly. He felt a bump rising on his head where the blow had landed. He crawled forward, fell, lay still. The creature turned once more to Beowulf, its blood-drenched claws extended.
From the tree tops the white object plummeted, opened wide its wings and flew into the face of the fiend. Startled, the monster fell, rolled over and quickly slipped into the frigid waters of the tarn.
Athena stood beside Demo. Their eyes looked in sorrow at the prostrate body of Beowulf.
Even as they moved forward to help him he sat up, his hand searching for and seizing the hilt of his sword. Without a word he stood, shook his head, staggered to the brink of the tarn.
Sword clutched in hand, a look of resignation on his face, he dove into the Demon's Lair!
For a brief moment the water was still, not even a breeze disturbing its surface.
Without warning it erupted!
A huge shape rended its surface, fell back with a scream of anger! The green blood blended with the dark water of the tarn.
For hours the battle continued. The once calm tarn was now an ocean of waves and froth, and thunder sound above it. From beneath those waters rumbles of anger rose. Sulfurous fumes lifted from its surface, killed the trees bordering the dark waters.
Then nought but silence!
Athena's voice was sad. "He will drive Wyrd once more into those bonds that have so long endured. For all his heroism, for all his strength, Beowulf cannot survive the conflict, and even I cannot save him." She gazed, sad-eyed, at the fateful tarn.
"Yet, he shall return at last in another time, another place. Indeed he will one day slay the Grendl, the Grendl's mother - archfiends of another era."
Her eyes were turned to the heavens, seemed to look beyond the visible.
"Beyond that, the day will come when the fire dragon itself shall fall to his sword. Only then shall Wyrd have him, as Wyrd must have us all."
"Come, Zeus waits."
"Wyrd. Yes, yes, the Worm of Death. But, even the Titans knew it only as a legend. Well, never mind. It is once more returned to its lair, once more imprisoned."
Zeus seemed to have other thoughts on his mind.
"How did you manage, my boy. No, no, I don't have time! Golf tournament this afternoon. Poseidon has won the last two. Still, the score is getting closer. Oh, would you care to caddy. No, I suppose you are a little tired. Good night, my son."
"Good night, my son."
Demo looked up at his mother, rolled over and pulled the blankets close. Such strange dreams.
His fingers gingerly rubbed the lump on his head.
Theresa entered the room timidly, eyes downcast.
"Is Demo home. I need to talk to him."
Metaneira's eyes held a question? "He's out back with Rough. Is something wrong?"
"I . . . I like Demo. I really wouldn't hurt him for the world. I am sorry, I . . . . Please, I can't marry him. Metaneira, I am sorry. There is another. Oh, what can I say, what shall I do!"
"Theresa, don't cry. Perhaps all will work out for the best. But, yes, you should tell him. He is a brave lad. I'm sure he will take it like a man. Why don't you wipe your eyes, then go out back and talk to him. Be brave, girl!"
As Theresa went out the back door Metaneira looked up, shook her fist. "Athena, you are a conniver. Who have you sent to poor Theresa? I should have known. Oh, well, you may make a delightful daughter-in-law."
She shook her head, looked out the back door.
Theresa and Demo were standing quietly, his arms around her.
"It's all right, little sister. You see, I think it's always been this way. I've always felt toward you like a big brother. I don't think I could really have been anything else." Demo spoke quietly.