Part 53

She sensed his mood, touched his cheek lightly with her hand. "Would I could remove this curse from you. Understand that it is not given even to me to see the final scene. Yet my love will be with you. Ah, 'tis time. The moon is sinking into the sea, and I must be a-wing ere it fade from sight. Fare the well, my wanderer. Return safely to me."

He looked at the moon, now half hidden by the horizon. Turning he found her gone. The beat of wings above the ship, and the silhouette of an owl against the moon, marked her going.

Demo stood, disconsolate, listening to the quiet lap of the waves against the bow, the groan of taut hawsers, the gentle flap of furled sails in a light breeze. Tomorrow a different adventure - one from which he might not return. Well, morning comes swiftly. He sought his bunk, slept well, rocked by the gentle swells of the vast ocean.

The chariot rode smoothly and swiftly over the surface of the sea, pulled by a brace of stallions even a warrior might ride eagerly. Led by the dolphin they raced he knew not where. To search for Oceanus, whom he had never seen; to look for Proteus, who changed form at will - what strange adventure this. Perhaps, what hopeless adventure.

Yet they pressed on. The sun rose and lightened a glistening sea, deep blue mirroring the blue of the sky. And as far as sight could see, nothing. Only the endless surface, stretching from horizon to horizon.

Still on the dolphin sped, close followed by the steeds. Never had he ridden with such speed, never had he seen an ocean without end. Sun overhead, he felt the warmth of its rays, even though the cool ocean breeze gentled its beams and he felt only comfort.

They came upon the shore so quickly that he was surprised. The mighty stream rushed into the sea, a current that stretched even beyond the sight of land. They had approached from the side. Suddenly the dolphin leaped into the air, twisting sideward, and swam slowly in a circle. The team slowed, halted the chariot at land's edge.

What was he to find here? He recognized nothing. Beyond the mouth of the river the trees grew profusely, hiding the upper reaches from his view. The near shore was rock strewn, but marked with wide sandy stretches. Inland the land rose slowly, then reached a escarpment, a huge vertical stone wall.

He waded to the shore, looked for edible plants near the river's brink. Strange plants grew in scattered clumps, but nothing that he recognized. He sat down, gazed out to sea. On the far horizon white cumulus clouds were forming. Finally he picked some of the native plants, examined them carefully. Perhaps they had some food value. They might serve for greens, or even a salad. Reluctantly he munched on a leaf.

The taste was bland. Still, there seemed to be little else with which to satisfy his appetite. At least, it would fill his stomach.

He had eaten a handful, leaned back to rest, when he noted a shadow on the sand. Quickly he looked up.

He had felt no alarm. Surely this monstrous creature was not the unseen companion!

"I came swiftly, yet plainly not swiftly enough. I am sorry. You have eaten the herb, and the curse of Glaucus is even now working in your body.

"I pity you, young man. You have eaten of the herbs that brought me to the state you see. Soon you will feel a mild desire to enter the water. And if you resist it will grow ever stronger. At last you will respond, and when you do, your body will change as did mind. You too suffer the curse of Glaucus!

Demo stared at him in distaste. Yet, fearfully, he knew it was true. Even now he felt the urge to enter the beckoning sea. His mind saw visions of deep lagoons populated with swarms of fish, great manta rays, swimming amidst brilliantly colored coral reefs. His skin felt dry and sere. He must swim in the warm ocean, or he would surely die.

Quickly he rose to his feet. Glaucus looked down, did not move. Demo walked slowly to the beach, looked back at this, his weird visitor. Finally, closing his eyes, he stepped into the water.

He felt the change begin even as the soft waves touched his ankle. He rushed forward, threw himself headlong into the soft waves lapping the shore. He heard a roaring in his ears, his muscles ached, and for a moment his eyes were sightless.

It was done!

He did not ask. He looked at the scaly hands, the strangely webbed fingers and toes. The curse of Glaucus. The adventure was over. Athena was lost to him forever. Now he was but another denizen of the deep, a strange monster in the ocean's depths.

The dolphin swam near.

"You are one of us, now. I know not whether the process can be reversed. In any event, in this form I can take you to Proteus, if it is your will?"

"Proteus? What matters it now. He would set upon me, for I resemble nothing but a monster of the deep." Yet, reluctantly, Demo swam with the dolphin through boundless seas 'til night darkened the eastern sky.

"Down. We must go down. Here Proteus waits, prepares for the coming of Oceanus. He works busily, his eight great arms ever assembling the throne on which Oceanus would sit. Come with me to the depths."

With each moment they swam ever deeper. The blue-green waters of the surface darkened, took on a purplish tinge, grew ever more impenetrable by the eye. Yet, far below, a light gleamed dimly, or lights. And it was toward those lights they made their way.

At first the fish had swam and played, delighted with their company. Butterfly fish flitted by, seahorses danced in a vertical ballet, and in the distance the sharks circled, ever accompanied by the pilot fish.

With each fathom they penetrated the fish grew ever fewer, even as did the light. The warm surface waters were no more, replaced by chill drafts from far below. And colder still the waters as their passage continued.

The source of light became more evident as they drew nigh. Red and glowing lava, flowing in an endless stream, lit the massive peak from which it flowed. The stream near the volcano's mouth glowed brightly, and lava flow around the peak retained the glow until the heat was quenched by the frigid waters.

Water and steam and bubbles swirled ever upward above the melted stone, a seething cylinder of white illuminated by the light beneath. And there, on the edge of the molten magma, Proteus worked his work.