Part 39

Zeus was busy, feeding fuel to a small still. He opened a valve at the base, filled his flask with the sparkling liquid.

"This is it. Just the right flavor. Just the right consistency. Just the right strength." He slowly sipped, threw his head back and took a larger swallow.

At that moment Demo and his companion entered the garden, and the dragon groaned.

Zeus took the cup from his lips, stared wide-eyed at the dragon, then looked at his drink. He closed his eyes, shook his head, then looked at the dragon once more.

"Boy, do you notice something unusual behind you. I do believe this nectar has muddled my senses."

"Oh, no sir. Nothing unusual. I've completed my task."

"Nothing unusual." He said the words sadly, emptied his flask on the ground. "I was afraid you were going to say that." He shook his head.

He looked once more at the dragon and frowned. "I'll drink no more of that stuff."

"The teeth, boy, the gunny sack full of teeth. Where are they?"

"Right here, sir." Demo pointed to the dragon.

Zeus blinked, then smiled.

"Aaah! Yes! I understand. Well, now, that's all right. I had some doubts there for a moment. Thank you, my boy." He refilled his flagon.

"Yes, I see. Well, take them, then. The teeth, that is. Fight him. Hit him a nasty blow and take the teeth. Get on with it."

"Oh, no sir. He's more than willing to part with them. They hurt dreadfully, he tells me. I told him your dentist would willingly remove them."

"Yes, of course." Somehow Zeus sounded disappointed.

Odd, he sounded disappointed at the completion of each task.

"Well," Zeus growled at the dragon. "Don't just stand there. The phone's over yonder. Make an appointment and get them pulled. I do hope the dentist isn't all booked up."

The palace had all the jewels, all the objects of art, all the trappings a person could desire. But for a country girl raised in a small hut it lacked a prime requisite.

It flat wasn't homey.

Such was Persephone's evaluation.

Even that could have, over time, been corrected.

A second problem concerned her even more.

Her husband.

He wasn't presentable.

His looks were atrocious, his bearing boorish, and he could only be described as uncouth.

He had one slight redeeming grace.

In his own strange way, he loved her.

That fact, more than anything else, made her unhappy.