As a child, I had listened eagerly to the blind poet’s stories of how Jason and his Argonauts had gone to the rich kingdom of Colchis seeking the Golden Fleece. Atalanta told me her own versions of the stories that were less pretty, but none of them prepared me for the dazzling green of the land across the sea. Mountains reared up from the east and the ocean glittered to the west, and between was a rich land of rolling hills and winding rivers: Colchis. The valley where I stood was far from any city or farmstead, a worthy place for the sun god Helios to pasture his sheep.
I arrived at the valley when it was still morning, borne by Zephyrus’s winds. When I saw that the Sheep of the Sun had no shepherd, I assumed my task would be straightforward. I would not kill the creatures; they belonged to Helios, and I did not want to risk the inviting the animosity of yet another deity. But I was certain that gathering some wool from a flock of sheep would give me no trouble at all, considering I had run down deer and slain griffins in the past.
I began to walk towards one of the sheep that was grazing on the outskirts of its flock. The sheep stared at me placidly as it chewed. Its wool glowed a burnished gold, as though lit faintlyfrom within. I drew closer and closer, scarcely daring to draw breath for fear of startling the creature, but it only lowered its head to crop another mouthful of grass.
When I was close enough to see the filigreed wings of the flies crawling along the sheep’s back, I froze. A single bounding leap and I could grab the beast, locking my arms around its head and pulling out a few tufts of its wool to satisfy Aphrodite.
Before I could make my move, a shudder ran through the animal, and it gave vent to a bleat of alarm. The sheep sprang away from me as though it weighed no more than thistledown, moving more swiftly than my eye could track. It bounded across the turf, coming to a rest some distance away, then lowering its head to continue grazing. Its bleat set the other sheep wheeling away from me like a flock of birds in the wake of a hawk. Well, that was no bother. I would try again.
By midafternoon, I must have tried a dozen times to snatch one of the creatures. I was breathless and sweat-drenched, and no closer to my goal than I had been that morning. Whenever I approached the herd, it scattered out of my reach like a clutch of milkweed seeds on the wind. As hard to grasp as happiness, I suppose. I wanted to tear at the grass in frustration.
I tried wriggling along the ground to sneak up on the sheep, but they detected me and bounded away. I tried to ambush them as they grazed among an outcropping of boulders, but they eluded me effortlessly. Eventually I succeeded in snatching a few wisps of golden wool from one of the slower sheep before it darted out of my grasp, but I knew this would never be enough to satisfy Aphrodite. I stared in dismay at the tiny tuft of wool in my hand, staggered by my helplessness.
If I had the tools, I would have built pit traps or set snares, but I had nothing save the clothes on my back. I was hungry,savagely so, but there was nothing here in this wilderness for me to eat.
Tilting my head, I glared up at the sky. ‘I don’t suppose you could do something about this?’ I said to Zephyrus, gesturing at the serenely grazing sheep.
From the breeze that encircled the sky, I felt something like a shrug. ‘Even the wind couldn’t catch one of those dirty animals. Besides, if I help you directly with the task, Aphrodite will claim you did not abide her terms.’
I dug my nails into my scalp. Hunger and desperation gnawed at me. I had thought that travelling all the way to Colchis from mainland Greece would be the most challenging aspect of this task, but it seemed that the sun god’s sheep were well-protected even without his active intervention. No wonder Jason and his heroes sought the pelt owned by the king of Colchis – stealing the Golden Fleece, even if it was guarded by a sleepless dragon, was far easier than trying to make your own.
I watched the sun move towards the horizon, lengthening the shadows of the grazing sheep, and I felt my stomach sink into my belly. A week. That was all I had to complete three impossible tasks. And the journey into the Underworld alone might take a fortnight if I could even manage it. And if I failed …
There is no use moping, I told myself sternly. I made my way to a small river that ran through the centre of the valley, the sheep shying away from my path. I cupped my hands and drank from the clear mountain water, slaking my burning thirst.
I lay down flat on my back in the grass, too tired to do anything else. Early autumn was different in Colchis. Back in Greece, the days were still warm, whereas here in the mountains I felt a persistent chill, growing stronger as the daylight faded.
Summer was dying. Time was ticking away.
Above me, a reed nodded in the breeze. I wondered what ithad seen, and what it might tell me if it had a mouth to speak. Here among the sheep, I assumed, one day was probably very much like another. As if in agreement, the reed bowed forward in the wind, angling its long shadow under the glow of the setting sun.
I turned my head and realized that the field was made of gold.
I rose onto one elbow, not quite believing what I saw. Small tufts of wool glowed like flame in the light of the setting sun. Over there was a tangle of wool caught among some rocks, here another like a tumbleweed. Tiny amounts insignificant by themselves, but together they might be enough.
I had not noticed because I had not thought to look, so intent was I on my hunt for the sheep. But now the setting sun sparked those threads of gold into flame. I raced to gather them up into a small cloud bunched between my hands, laughing a little with delighted disbelief.
I had won. I had completed the first task.
Aphrodite arrived as the sun disappeared behind the mountain’s peaks, sauntering across the wide green meadow with the ease of a shepherdess. Forgoing any pleasantries, she inspected my offering of the golden wool. She snatched the ball of fluff from my hands and teased out a strand, holding it in the fading light while squinting like an old trader. Finally, she tucked it away, seeming almost disappointed. Perhaps she’d hoped I would kill myself running after the sheep, or that Helios would smite me for the insult. A smug satisfaction warmed me.
‘Make your way to the temple of Demeter at Eleusis,’ the goddess ordered. ‘You will sort the grain that has been tithed to me. And as foryou.’ Aphrodite whirled on Zephyrus, who had joined me to witness the goddess’s reaction. ‘You are notto assist her further. If you fly her to Eleusis, I will declare her contract void.’
Zephyrus looked startled but bowed his head in acknowledgment. My heart dropped. Eleusis was many days’ journey across the sea. I had six days left.
Aphrodite flew away, leaving Zephyrus and me alone. Night was coming on, and the first stars were beginning to appear. I was voraciously hungry and profoundly exhausted. It took everything within me not to collapse in defeat.
Zephyrus produced a small crystal bottle and placed it on the ground between us. Then he looked away and folded his arms, appearing to be fascinated by rich colours of the western sky.
‘Oh dear, I seem to have misplaced my bottle of Circe’s tincture,’ he said aloud to the sunset. ‘What a shame if someone drank it.’
Despite my exhaustion, I smiled. I remembered the weightlessness of the butterfly’s shape, the freedom of it. I could make it to Eleusis by myself if I had wings of my own, however small.
‘You’re not supposed to help me,’ I told him.
‘I’m not helping anyone,’ he replied. ‘I’ve simply misplaced my possessions like the cloud-brained god that I am.’
I was about to pull the stopper from the bottle when Zephyrus spoke. ‘Your last task will bring you to the Underworld,’ he remarked. ‘While you are there, you may cross paths with Hyacinthos. Tell him that Zephyrus loves him still.’
