EIGHT

Cycnus hurried through the cropland in the light of the setting sun, and fell wordlessly to one knee. He held out a woven grass basket.

Phaeton parted the cleverly-knit parcel, and brought forth a shining, beautifully wrought amulet.

“Brave Cycnus!” said Phaeton, touched deeply. “Thank you, cousin – but I cannot accept this!”

It was a magical amulet featuring the face of the legendary Gorgon – her tongue distended, her hair a mass of writhing snakes. Many people wore such amulets to ward off evil. This was an especially valuable image, an heirloom of heavy silver, a gift to Cycnus from his dying father.

“If it brings you safely back again, Phaeton,” said the youthful cousin, “I will part with it gladly.”

Phaeton was surprised at the feeling that stirred in him now, one that even made him take a faltering step back toward home. He had hoped, only half-aware of the impulse, that Cycnus had arrived to tell Phaeton that Clymene had relented, and that a general outcry demanded Phaeton’s immediate return.

“I might lose this honored treasure, cousin,” Phaeton was saying.

“Then take me with you,” said Cycnus hopefully, “to keep it and you both entirely safe.”

Phaeton returned the precious amulet to his cousin’s hands with a regretful smile.

“Never laugh at any of Epaphus’s jokes,” cautioned Phaeton with a mock frown, “until I come home again.”

“I would sooner a pair of ass’s ears sprouted from my head,” said Cycnus.

“And let Ino wear this amulet,” Phaeton added, “if she walks out to the sheep meadow.” It was believed that griffins bred for life, like wild geese. A mournful griffin might well seek revenge against the villagers.

“Tell her,” added Phaeton, “that I’m about to do something wonderful.”

“Oh, Phaeton,” asked Cycnus excitedly, “tell me – what will it be?”