Chapter 14 - Eros

Eros could do nothing but watch as he sat with the shade, waiting for Charon to show up and lug the old man down to Hades. He saw Hermes deliver the message to Apollo, but Apollo hadn't said anything. He'd just scowled a lot.

Damn it.

Eros would have to wait for the prophecy to find out if Apollo had gone for his plan. Now that he knew his message had been delivered, Eros willed Darion to hurry up.

As if obeying Eros's silent command, Darion sought out Apollo's priests as soon as he made landfall and presented his offering. He'd brought an ornately jeweled lyre in tribute to the god. Eros shook his head as he looked on. Mortals were so predictable. Bring Apollo a lyre -- no one's ever done that before.

Still, the priests were impressed by the show of wealth, and Darion moved to the front of the line instead of having to draw lots to determine his place. Darion approached the temple with measured steps, carrying the lyre on outstretched arms before him. He looked as if he expected the god to reach down and personally accept the gift. But as he stood in the shadow of the massive temple, Darion's fleshy arms began to weaken. He was forced to present his tribute at the base of the temple. Like everyone else.

After leading a procession of supplicants to a side entrance of the temple, Darion descended into the Sanctuary of the Oracle. The room was dark and damp, the flickering lanterns barely illuminating the cavern. Its silence was punctuated only by trickles from the stream running through channels in the floor.

Darion approached the screen separating him from the Pythia and placed his hand against the coarse fabric. Eros shared Darion's anguish. The girl on the other side of that screen held both their worlds in her hands. Darion's forehead dipped until it too pressed against the screen. Eros held his breath.

A priest cleared his throat nearby. "Sire, the Pythia is waiting. You need to ask your question."

Darion raised his head, but didn't back away from the screen. His voice cracked when he spoke. "Pythia, sacred maiden of Apollo, I come to learn the fate of my daughter, Psyche. What lies in store for her?"

The Pythia sat silently on her tripod, pinching laurel leaves between her soft fingers and gazing into a cauldron of still water. Slowly, deeply, she inhaled the vapors rising from a crevice in the earth. Her low-ceilinged chamber filled with the intoxicating scent of the god, swirling around her, inviting her to taste immortality. The light, tinkling sound of the sacred stream filled the cavern as she waited to receive Apollo's message.

The Pythia began to sway as she balanced on her tripod. Her arms stretched out to the sides, palms up, letting the leaves fall away. Seconds ticked by and Eros felt his heart thud its every beat in his chest. Suddenly, the Pythia erupted in a peal of laughter, throwing her head back with such abandon she would've tumbled from her stool if an alert priest hadn't caught her.

"Get ready," the priest whispered to Darion. "It's coming."

Eyes rolled back in her head and panting, the Pythia breathed out her prophecy. Foretold Psyche's future.

Darion dropped to his knees as the Pythia collapsed into the priest's waiting arms.

Chapter end