Zeus started to turn away, then hesitated. "Oh, well! Boy, don't drag your hands in the water. And don't even think about taking a dip. You'd be dreadfully sorry!"

An extremely simple ch.o.r.e, this. Why all the fuss?

Each river has its peculiarities. The Nile, known for its annual flooding. The Lethe, notorious for the effect on those who drink its waters.

And then there is the river Styx.

It has a well-deserved reputation. The environmentalists have been picketing since time immemorial. They complain, legitimately, about the odor, the sludge, the inhabitants - all the little things that help make the Styx unique.

They picket Pluto.

Pluto suggests they picket Zeus, instead. To emphasize his point he releases Cerberus.

Hurriedly they scatter, not taking time to even look back.

They picket Zeus.

Zeus takes it all with gentle and tolerant att.i.tude. His is a measured reaction. He a.s.signs to each picket a little black cloud, from which rain continuously falls. Umbrellas are discouraged by random gusts of wind.

The pickets persist.

Zeus smiles.

The clouds grow larger, the winds gust more strongly.

The temperature begins to fall. The continuous rain ends, is replaced by snow showers. The winds now blow steadily from the cold north.

The pickets persist.

Zeus' smile broadens.

The clouds merge. The winds now reach blizzard force, and the snow changes from soft flakes to frozen pellets. The temperature drops, then drops again.

The pickets a.s.semble, discuss, and rapidly disperse.

Zeus smirks, makes a s...o...b..ll, which he then playfully tosses into the air. He then builds a snowman. He gives it a picket sign to carry.

Humming, Zeus returns to his throne.

There is no snow by the river Styx. Nor rain. Nor cooling breeze.

The air is stagnant, hot, thick with the odor of rotted plants, the breath of Hades' denizens.

Demo, with the back of his hand, wipes the sweat from his brow.

Ah, how delightful it would be to splash even this putrid water on his forehead. Or even to swim in its cooling depths! What was it Zeus had said? Something about being dreadfully sorry?

He rows slowly, moving the oar against water with the consistency of mud. To lift the oar for the next stroke is nearly as difficult as to row.

Then he cannot lift it at all!

Frowning Demo yanked at the oar. It gave slightly, then slipped back into the dank water. With an effort he used the side of the boat as a point of leverage, once more brought up the oar.

Covered with slime, strange plant growth, it broke the surface of the water. But there is something else, a red long and sinewy coil wrapped tightly around the oar. Grimacing, Demo tried to sc.r.a.pe the enwrapping red plant from its hold.

The red plant suddenly uncoiled, extended upward, and quickly enwrapped his forearm. Wide-eyed Demo attempted to pull free.

The hold on his arm tightened!

He was being pulled to the side of the boat!

Slowly the boat began to tip. He lost his footing, fell against the gunwale. The boat began to rock, and with each rock the putrid water of the river Styx splashed in.

As Demo pulled hard more and more of the red plant became exposed.

With a start Demo stared into enormous green eyes!

This was no plant!

Rather, a denizen of the weird waters! A denizen with an appet.i.te for Demo!

A grin appeared on its face. Rather, a smirk. It licked its lips in antic.i.p.ation.

With one arm held captive by the creature, Demo was unable to use his bow and arrows. Nevertheless, he was not completely helpless.

With his free hand he pulled an arrow from its pouch, stabbed at the entwining red tentacle. Surprised and in pain, the creature uncoiled its hold, slid back into the dark stream.

Demo sat down in the boat, sweat appearing on his forehead. For a moment he sat still. Then he noticed that the boat was drifting away from the sh.o.r.e.

With a start he once more manned his oars!

It was useless. The slow flowing waters of the Styx had now branched off. This was a different river entirely!

He recognized it! Fearfully his eyes opened wide!

The Meander! A river that went on forever. Purposeless, endless, going on forever!

He looked back.

No trace of the Styx was to be seen!

From the far sh.o.r.e he heard unearthly laughter!

An object he knew too well blended with the shadows there. The unseen companion!