Part 93

Demo moved down the street, ever watchful. Silence held sway, and the fog clung to them like wet cloth. At times lights could be seen, rapidly disappearing as the drear dawn came. Dawn brought little change. The fog still enmeshed a silent world, a world seemingly populated by Mist and himself.

The chill he felt came not from the fog. A coldness along his spine, a prickling on the back of his neck, forewarned him. Something there was, something evil and fearsome, close at hand!

"No!" Mist cried as she ran forward toward an object barely visible. Demo reached out to stop her. His hand touched only cold fog, and she was gone.

He followed her quickly, then stopped. The scream of utter terror rose, ceased quickly. All was silent. For a moment he closed his eyes. He knew full well he would see her no more.

Mist. A strange name. And yet a kind and gentle person. Now gone. To fight the unseen companion to protect himself had been his goal. No longer. Anger enveloped him. Mist was dead. The Demon must die!

Demo gazed from side to side, trying to penetrate the white barrier before his eyes. To no avail. Then, glancing down, he noted footprints. Footprints not made by man!

Slowly, his eyes on the ground ahead of him, he followed the trail. Where Mist had trodden he could not tell. She left no trace of her passage.

Looming huge in the fog and early morning gloom, ahead an object stood in his path. This was the creature she feared. The one that surely had destroyed her!

It was coming slowly closer. Plainly it recognized his presence. Smoothly he strung his bow, notched an arrow.

Demo waited quietly.

A shudder enveloped his body, and his eyes widened.

He knew this one. An aura emitted from it, one that was not new to him.

Surely, this was the unseen companion!

Without hesitation he released his arrow.

The laughter that came from out the fog held little humor. "Your puny weapons are merely playthings. I would end you now, if it were not that the fates have written, and it is by the tarn you shall meet your destiny. If you survive this world, or non-world! I leave you now, earthling. Find your way back to Olympus and Zeus. If you can!"

The unearthly laughter sounded once more, then faded, as did the figure half displayed in the swirling fog.

In his ears was but silence, and his eyes saw only the swirling fog.

'That tomorrow may come.' The words repeated themselves in his brain. What had Zeus intended? Was the unseen companion the evil influence dominating this strange world? Or were there other, still hidden, culprits. "Zeus, you have indeed given me a strange chore. I know not where to turn! If only I could lift this fog!"

He wandered through the streets. Glancing at a pond in passing he recognized it. He knew that he had merely retraced his steps, neared Mist's dwelling. With a sigh he found the door, entered.

He sat quietly on the mat, fell asleep.

Dreams, interrupted by moments of awareness, disturbed his rest. Dreams of Mist, of the unseen companion, finally of Athena. She spoke strange words to him, words couched in riddles. "Prometheus knew the answer. As did your unseen companion. Quickly, before the fire die."

He woke, sweat streaming from his body. From the center of the room a wisp of smoke rose from the dying fire. 'Before the fire die?' Strange words. 'Prometheus knew, the unseen companion knew?' What did they know?

Wide-eyed, he looked at the fading fire. Suddenly he reached down, pulled a fiery brand from center, and tossed it at the wall. In moments the building was burning.

He rushed out of the building. The conflagration spread rapidly, and the once empty, fog-shrouded streets were filled with dim forms rushing helter-skelter to and fro.

Even as the flames spread the fog began to dissipate. An early morning sun could be seen shining on the horizon. Where strange shadows had moved along the streets now people were to be seen. Smiles replaced looks of dreary misery. Indeed Prometheus had known!

Still, there remained much to do. 'That tomorrow may come?' What action must be taken 'that tomorrow may come'? The fog was indeed gone. Only a burned out city remained. No tomorrow, this!

What else had Athena whispered to him while he slept. Something very important. Nothing came to mind. He moved westward, drawn by an unknown force. The answer was to be found beyond the western horizon. If there were an answer.

The mountains loomed large to the west. He began that westward trek, barely reached the foothills before the sun began to sink behind the jagged peaks. Looking for a place to sleep safely, he noted an opening, the mouth of a cave.