The sad eyes that held remembrance of beauty beyond that of all beings. They seemed to say, "If I could but forget what once I was. Then I could more readily bear this plight."

He shuddered, held the mirror in his hand as he stretched out on his forest bower. Sleep would come soon. And with sleep, Cronus!

And so it was. Cronus stood silent at the foot of his sylvan bed. He held an object in his hand, gazed at it in deep thought.

The mirror of Venus!

He had taken it from the bed where Demo lay. Slowly Cronus lowered the mirrored, glanced at the boy. Demo stirred, looked with tired eyes at his visitor.

"I know this one from long ago. I see, yet I know not the face, nor the name. Is this your mother, boy?"

"No, sire, this is the face of another, the face of one you once loved. The face of one you have condemned to misery. This is the face of your granddaughter, Venus, disfigured by the Curse of Cronus."

Cronus' eyes widened, and he glanced once more at the mirror.

"I shall take this with me. Sleep, boy, this night I give you rest."

Head bowed, he turned and walked away, fading into the night.

Demo slept.

He woke late, the sun high in the sky. Even then might he have slept, except for the sound of the sparrows.

They hopped excitedly around an object gleaming on the forest floor. He rose, walked to it, and they took wing in fright.

The mirror of Venus. Cronus had dropped it there before he left. Strange. He had been so moved by the aged image therein.

Demo shook his head, picked up the mirror.

In shock, he almost let it fall.

The beauty of Venus, radiant and young, once more graced its surface.

Eyes wide he glanced at the hand holding the mirror. The gnarled fingers, wrinkled and old, were no more. The strong hands of youth now held the mirror.

Quickly he rushed to the spring, examined his countenance.

Cronus had relented.

He heard a distant rumble of thunder, glanced anxiously to the sky.

A voice, strong and yet soft, reached his ears.

"Well done, my son." He knew the sojourn had ended.

And then he heard the words again. "Well done, my son." and felt a hand shaking him.

"Yes, well done. The firewood you were to gather, where is it?

Do you know the sun is near its zenith, and you still lie abed."

"Yes, mother, I shall fetch it quickly."

He shook his head. Only a dream? He looked at his hand, the hand of youth. As he sat on the edge of his bed his foot brushed an object.

Absentmindedly he reached down, picked it up.

He found himself gazing on the beauty of Venus, a smile on her face. The lips seemed to move, and expressed in a voice all softness the grat.i.tude shining in her eyes.

He smiled. No!

No! Not a dream.

As a child I nourished him. His body I made strong, agile; his mind, quick. Strength I gave him, and the will to bear pain without flinching. Almost, eternal life. But that was not to be.

Ceres was thinking to herself.

The voice I heard while praying - It is, I am sure, his voice.

The time is coming when this tragedy shall end. In some manner, unknown to me, Fate will bring the paths together.

Ah, yet how powerful is the enemy! Zeus himself alone is more powerful.

No, not true. Moira has mapped the path of each, be they G.o.d or man. And Fate has given me a vision.

I knew not then to what purpose the boy's skills would be needed. How quickly time has pa.s.sed, and the wrong done my daughter is yet to be avenged!

His shall be the duty.

I grow old, my limbs puny.

He is young, strong. My enemy shall be his enemy.

And for that enemy his name shall be Nemesis!

8. The Minotaur

"Being a well-educated earthling," Zeus began, a slight touch of sarcasm in his voice, "You are undoubtedly familiar with the legends of the Minotaur?"

"I have been told the legend by my mother, sire."

"Ah, a wise woman. And proud, I am sure, to have such a stalwart, handsome offspring."

"At times she has expressed doubts. However, it is but a motherly quirk, or so I believe."

"Fine, fine." Zeus seemed weary of the conversation, and yawned loudly.