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Eddie had been very unhappy about the arrangement, but, as usual, he could not say no to Artemis' divalike demands. The author drew a deep breath, and Pamela thought suddenly how old he looked. "I have agreed to your wishes, but you must agree to be timely. I have a spectacular farewell dinner planned for us."
"Eddie." Artemis pouted prettily, sliding her arm through his and smoothly distracting him from more arguments about limos and rides to the airport. "I do hope you have remembered to find us a restaurant with a good view. I have become overly fond of our splendid dining on that wonderful deck, and I cannot bear to think of how much I will miss it."
"The view will always be waiting here for you when you tire of your travels. But tonight, my Goddess, it seems it is wise that we try something new." The author touched the goddess's cheek, and she nuzzled his hand. Eddie's smile almost hid the sad resignation that haunted his face. Pamela followed them across the courtyard, thinking that Eddie might very well be an even better actor than Artemis.
"I sincerely and thoroughly loathe those metal creatures," Apollo said through gritted teeth after he climbed awkwardly from the front seat of the limo.
"Sir?" the Bellagio doorman looked confused.
"He gets carsick," Pamela said.
The very British-sounding doorman took one look at Apollo's green-tinged face and his bandaged hand, sniffed his disapproval and stepped quickly out of the way.
She took Apollo's uninjured arm and steered him to the sidewalk. He wiped a hand across his brow and tried to command his stomach down from his throat while they waited during the lengthy process involved in extracting Eddie and Artemis from what he liked to think of as the limo's evil maw.
"Promise me," he said into her ear, "that when it is time for us to return to Caesars Palace you and I will walk there from here."
His words reminded her again of the short time they had left together. As if she needed a reminder. Ironically, it seemed the sun mocked them as it rushed towards the horizon. She tried unsuccessfully to smile at Apollo.
"I promise."
He met her eyes. "I will not live without you. All will be well. Remember that you have my oath."
Pamela nodded quickly. He is Apollo, the God of Light. He can make it happen! He can find a way for us to be together! she told herself sternly while she blinked back a sudden rush of tears. She needed to focus on her surroundings and keep herself together. No matter what, she didn't want his last memory of her to be of tears and heartache. She wanted him to know she believed in him - in his power and in his love.
The entrance of the Bellagio was an ornate circle drive that faced a balcony that looked down on the edge of the quiet, dark pool that she knew was just waiting for the musical cue for it to spring into light and life.
"The fountains," Apollo said, following her gaze. Putting his arm around her, he pressed her intimately against his body. "Our fountains."
Pamela looked up at him, and this time she did smile. He was so strong and sure of himself - so real. She couldn't doubt him. She had been given the oath of the God of Light. He wouldn't let her down. More importantly, he wouldn't let them down.
"Yes, our fountains," she said.
"Let us not dally! I have a surprise for my goddess for which we must be on time."
Eddie and Artemis swept past them and into the Bellagio. Pamela and Apollo followed more slowly. Inside the entryway Pamela stopped completely. Totally starstruck, she stared up at the ceiling.
"Dale Chichuly," she said reverently, gazing up at the incredible work of art that was the Bellagio's foyer chandelier. "I'd forgotten that he designed this."
Curious, Apollo studied the ceiling. "It is a most unusual chandelier."
"It's amazing. Look at the intricacy of the blown glass and the brilliance of the colors. It's like a field of jellyfish poppies. It's too bad Eddie didn't fixate on this decor instead of tacky Caesars Palace," she said under her breath with a little laugh.
"I don't know..." He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "I've grown quite fond of Eddie's eccentric tastes. It is, after all, what brought us together."
"Dallying! You're dallying," Artemis said, grabbing her brother's sleeve and pulling them over to where Eddie waited impatiently in front of a restaurant whose gold filigree sign said Olives.
"E. D. Faust and party. I have a special reservation," Eddie told the maitre d'.
"Of course, Mr. Faust. This way, please."
They followed the maitre d' through the opulent restaurant, which was literally packed with people on the busy Friday night, to a wall of beveled windows, in the middle of which was a floor-to-ceiling glass door a waiter opened for them, and stepped out onto a large, curving marble balcony that directly overlooked the middle of the famous Bellagio fountains. The maitre d' led them to the single table set with linens and china and crystal. He bowed first Artemis and then Pamela into well-padded velvet chairs.
"As you instructed, Mr. Faust, the balcony has been reserved exclusively for you."
"It is perfection. You may now pour the Dom Perignon."
"Oh, Eddie! How did you know that I have been craving some of that lovely champagne again?" Artemis said.
"I read it in your beautiful eyes, my Goddess," Eddie said.
Pamela rolled her own eyes and shared an amused look with Apollo. The waiter popped the cork, and as he poured the champagne, the first notes of the theme song from Chorus Line brought the fountains to life.
"One! Singular sensation..."
As the song played and the waters danced, Eddie raised his crystal flute to Artemis. "To you, my Goddess. A singular sensation."
"Oh, Eddie!" she said, touching her glass against his and blinking quickly to clear the sudden tears that filled her eyes. "You have dazzled me."
"It has been my very great pleasure to do so," he said, his eyes suspiciously bright, too. Then he cleared his throat and motioned for the waiter to bring menus.
They were served a spectacular dinner against the backdrop of singing fountains and a desert sky that slowly faded from blue to purple. Alone on their balcony, the night felt filled with magic and mystery. Though they were in the heart of Vegas on a bustling Friday night, they had privacy and pageantry. To Pamela it was as if they had been granted a special box seat from the gods of the city.
And, who knew? They might have been. Odder things had certainly happened.
When the last of many sets of fountain songs ended, Eddie glanced at his watch. Grimly, he lifted his bulk from the chair and stood facing the table.
"It is nearing the hour of eight. We have shared wine and food, friendship and music." His kind eyes looked from Pamela to Apollo before they came to rest on Artemis. "Now, I am sad to say, I must bid you farewell. I told you earlier that I had a surprise for you." His gaze remained on Artemis' beautiful face. "Especially for you, my Goddess." He gestured around them. "Part of the surprise was this setting and this dinner. The other part is that I would like to formally announce that I have decided upon the subject of my next epic trilogy. This morning my editor agreed with my proposal for the three books. They will tell the story of a warrior who is sent on a seemingly unattainable quest by his dying people to win the heart of a goddess who, in turn, will promise to return to his people, live by his side, and save their world. The cover of each hardback book will hold an image that will be sacred throughout the hero's journey, the image of his goddess. That image will be none other than the one our Matthew has been sketching of you." He ended his speech with a flourish, bowing to the woman he had proclaimed his goddess.
Artemis didn't speak. Instead, she stood and walked slowly to Eddie.
"Thank you, my warrior."
Gracefully, Artemis sank into a low curtsy. When she raised her supple body and linked her arm through his, Pamela could see that her cheeks were wet. The author took a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed at her face; then, in a familiar gesture, Eddie patted her hand where it rested on his wide arm.
"Come then, and let us finish our journey."
Silently, the four of them retraced their path through the restaurant and out to the Bellagio's foyer. This time the Chichuly masterpiece didn't draw Pamela's eyes. Her heart felt too heavy; she couldn't look up. The only thing she could think to do was to keep holding Apollo's hand and keep believing that this wouldn't be the last time she touched him. It was through his hand that she felt the instant hum of tension when their limo pulled up to the circle drive, reminding her of her promise.
"Eddie, do you mind if Phoebus and I walk? You know how he is about cars," she said, wondering, in an abstract kind of detached way, at how normal her voice sounded. Like her heart wasn't breaking. Like her life wasn't dissolving with the setting sun.
"Of course! We shall meet you in front of Caesars Palace. It will give all of us time to say our private goodbyes." The author managed a strained smile before he ducked into the limo.
In his palace on Mount Olympus, Bacchus sat on his throne. He closed his eyes and focused his will. Sweat beaded his wide brow. His cheeks were florid with strain. Between his flaccid lips a line of white foam moved in and out with his breathing.
Where is it?
He increased his concentration. He would not panic. He would not despair. It would be found.
Where! Where is it?
He had felt it these past days. The portal's closing had weakened it, but he knew it was still there. All he had to do was to find it - then she would be his again. Bacchus raised his thick hands, holding his palms outward as if he was feeling the air in front of his dais. And something tickled against his skin. With all of his immortal might, his hands closed, and his mind grasp the faint sliver of the bond.
He had found it! He had found her...
Like a fisherman pulling in a rare catch, Bacchus clutched the thread of the mortal's soul to him, tightening and strengthening their connection until he could see her clearly in his mind. She was at work, little more than a slave, really, doomed to a life of drudgery as she carried drinks to men with groping hands, and then ducked into dark corners to raise a glass to her own lips.
Bacchus tugged harder at the bond, and the mortal woman drained the glass of fiery liquor.
Yes... drink me in... take me... let me ease your pain ... his mind whispered to her through their bond, and he felt her sway, as if she, too, physically felt their connection.
That was how she had come to him, and that was how he had bound her, through her need for drink. It obsessed her, consumed her... it only followed logically that he could obsess and consume her. He had really done nothing wrong. He had simply granted the mortal woman her heart's desire. The delicious irony of it made him want to shriek with glee. He would use the mortal bound to him through her heart's desire to destroy that which had been bound to the golden Artemis, and in doing so, he would force both twins to feel a taste of the pain that losing his kingdom caused him.
The agony of the separation still raged within him. They thought they had beaten him. It was Apollo's fault. He and his golden sister. But would Zeus punish them? Of course not. They were his darlings, his favorites. It was insufferable.
The abuse heaped upon him must be redressed. This time there would be no reprieve. No mistakes would be made.
Bacchus channeled his power into the mortal. He drank in her soul, laughing at how freely she gave herself over to him. Through her, his spirit reentered the mortal world, spreading like a deadly, invisible fog from Caesars Palace. He searched... searched... and then with a triumphant shout he found what he sought. Perfect. They were so unaware - so caught up in their own little dramas they would not sense his presence.
Satisfied, he again concentrated his powers on the ail-too-willing mortal. He was within her, coursing through her veins and filling her mind with his dark urgings.
Yes, you are doing so well! He coaxed as she left her workstation carrying only her keys. Quickly now, time grows short. Let me tell you exactly what you must do...
