‘Oh, I have no doubt you can accomplish it yourself,’ he replied. ‘I merely thought it would save time. Besides, how many mortals can say they’ve ridden a dolphin?’
I reconsidered, mollified by his response. Besides, my belly was rumbling with hunger. ‘Well, I suppose it would be rude to refuse after you’ve come so far.’
The dolphin’s skin was smooth, and I could feel his muscles contract and release beneath me. Cupid picked up speed, turning the world into a kaleidoscope of sea-foam and sunlight. I got a mouthful of seawater more than once, but I didn’t care. A laugh of sheer joy tore from me as I skipped like a stone upon the waves, and I heard an echoing cry of delight from the dolphin.
Cupid slowed when we drew closer to the shore, and I released him once my own feet could touch the sea bottom. We considered each other for a moment, rocked by the low swells of the waves.
I remembered then that I was naked, and I ducked my shoulders below the water in a sudden paroxysm of modesty. He might be my husband, but it still brought heat to my face to think of him viewing me, especially when he wore another form.
Mercifully, Cupid turned away and rolled on his back, gazing at the sky. ‘I will see you after dusk. Be well, Psyche.’
‘And you,’ I replied.
He turned and dived into the surf. Through the jewel-like waters, I could see the dark wedge of his body speeding towards the horizon. Only when I was certain that he was gone did I step from the waves and hastily don my chiton.
Eros
The memory of Psyche’s touch stayed with me for the remainder of my daylight hours. I had not fully appreciated how the curse might be turned into a blessing at the simple feelingof her skin, how the howling of my longings could shift to music. Yet even this fulfillment only led to more wanting, more cravings: the desire to feel her body against me when I could reciprocate more fully.
When darkness fell, I found Psyche waiting in the lightless bedroom, sitting up on the bed. ‘Ah, so you’re wearing the shape of a man again,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t sure if you would come to me as a fish.’
I thought about reminding her that I wasn’t a man, and that dolphins weren’t fish, but decided against it. Psyche had been wrenched from her home and subject to all manner of peculiarity. I wanted to offer her something real.
‘I cannot let you see what I look like,’ I replied, kneeling on the bed. ‘But I can let you feel.’
I found her hands in the darkness and moved them to my face. The callouses were rough as stone but more familiar to me now. Her fingers moved over my eyelids and nose, feeling the ridge of my jawline. I could hear Psyche’s breath hitch, absorbed in fascination, and she shifted closer to get a better reach. I basked in the feeling of her hands as they skimmed over my face like summer rain. I wondered what it would be like to take those hands in my own, to lean in where I knew Psyche’s face must be and to kiss her.
I flinched back abruptly, my heart slamming shut like a startled clam. It was only the curse digging its claws into me; the faster we broke it, the better it would be for the both of us.
Psyche’s hands paused at my movement.
‘Satisfied yet?’ I asked.
The hands left my face. ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Thank you.’
I remembered my plan. ‘I have a favour to ask of you, Psyche. I would like you to accompany me on a journey. There is someone I want to speak to, someone I would like you to meet.’
I told Psyche that I sought Prometheus, and she yelped with excitement. ‘Of course, I will join you! And the monster, will we find the trail of that beast as well?’
‘We might,’ I said darkly, thinking of Aphrodite and her threat to destroy what I treasured most. ‘But I know that you were trained to fight monsters.’
‘Good,’ she said, laughing. ‘It seems you’re finally beginning to understand me.’
There was a rustling of sheets as Psyche slipped under the blankets, readying herself for sleep. I did the same.
‘Are you truly not afraid?’ I asked.
‘Not at all,’ she replied, voice muffled by the pillow. ‘After all, I travel in the company of an immortal god. What do I have to fear?’
A great deal, I thought grimly, Aphrodite’s tear-stained threat rising in my thoughts. But I said nothing of this to Psyche, and soon she was asleep.
As I lay back, I realized that my face ached slightly. At first, I thought it might be a remnant of Psyche’s touch, but then I realized that I was smiling.
That morning, I dithered over what form to wear. I could take on the shape of a handsome mortal youth, but I didn’t want to add another lie to the stack that already weighed down our relationship, and I disliked the idea of Psyche gazing affectionately at a face that wasn’t mine.
I finally decided on the shape of a magnificent rooster, the gold feathers around my proud neck contrasting sharply with my blue-green wings. The comb atop my head brought to mind the plumed helm of Ares. I paced the terrace with my three-clawed feet, ruffling my magnificent plumage. Even the peacocks drew back from me in awe.
When Psyche emerged, I saw she had put on the light armour I’d left out for her, far finer than the cumbersome set of boiled leather she’d arrived wearing: a front breastplate and back of worked bronze, along with matching greaves.
