FOURTEEN

At once the young seeker was aware that he was not alone.

A stairway swept upward, toward a nearly blinding presence, a robed figure.

The young man began his faltering climb upward. As swift as he had been all that day, he was halting now, wishing the number of steps could be made countless, so that he might never achieve his goal.

I was a fool, he thought, to attempt such a journey.

Each breath partook of a sweetness like the perfume of the iris, a heady fragrance. This place was at once glorious and disturbing. Once again Phaeton doubted his mother’s word. Why would a god from such a temple desire a mortal woman?

As the young man approached the summit of the stairway, a dazzling illumination surrounded him – even when he closed his eyes the light still possessed him.

A voice spoke, as though the palace itself had been gifted with a low, gentle power of speech.

“Why have you come here, Phaeton?” came the question.

Trembling, the young visitor could not speak.

But he did open his eyes.

He knows my name.

The source of the query was a figure in purple, richer than the finest dyer’s art, and glittering with points of emerald brilliance. Some said that the gods were much larger than mortals, giants with beautiful features. It was true that Phoebus Apollo was taller than any man Phaeton had ever seen, and heavily muscled, his beard like fine-spun gold.

Above this eminence the vault of a temple rose, in pulsing columns, and Phaeton realized that this citadel, as grand as it was, had been designed to merely echo the handsome presence of its lord.

Yet again the musical voice broke the silence. “My son, why have you come to see me?”

Phaeton let these words slip into his awareness, afraid to give them particular meaning at first.

But the weight of this solemn greeting brought more certainty – and happiness – with each passing heartbeat.

Clymene’s son stood straight now, and taking a deep breath allowed his gaze to take in the shapes and colors of this place, a palace Phaeton believed no one of flesh and blood had ever seen before.

Having come so far, and emboldened by the god’s question, Phaeton would not be silent now.