The Queen of Kheftiu, glorious Pasiphae, also finds me useful, but is far too discreet to name me so.

But in truth, I care little for the objects I make. And I care little for the favor of the King, though it does provide me with the materials of my various arts. As to the Queen -- ah, that is very different. But the Queen and I belong to a larger story, a story of the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite. And so, too, belong all those others in this narrative, for it is a story of Aphrodite's whim, and the mischief of Her enchantments.

There are those who find it odd that I, maker of devices, inquirer into mystical secrets, Wise Man of Kheftiu, should interest myself in these questions of Love, like some young girl of moist breast and dewy thighs.

But I am, in fact, more a creature of Curiosity than of Wisdom. This has been both the blessing and curse of my existence in this world. Curse, because it has enmeshed me in more troubles over the years than you would care to imagine. A blessing, because my curiosity has taken me to many a place where the wise are far too wise to go.

In the palace they say, "In Wisdom, Daedalus is a thousand years old." In Curiosity, however, I would place myself at about nine years of age. I wear the mask of wise man rather well, I believe, since my continued existence in Knossos depends upon it. But behind those eye-holes in the mask of wisdom there is always peeping a nine year old boy, hungering to know the Why of things, and What Comes Next.

Thus it was not Daedalus the Wise, but Daedalus the Curious, who ventured boldly into the realms of the Goddess, wanting with all my heart to Love Her -- but wanting with all my mind to know the Why of Her, the How of Her. Wanting, with all my being, to comprehend Her secret core of radiance that burns and illuminates at once, like any earthly fire.

It has always been my great passion to understand the meaning that lies behind events. Often enough, the events themselves have passed me by as I inquired into their true meaning. I recognize this as a weakness. And at the point in my life where this tale begins, I had resolved to enquire into matters of the heart, as a kind of antidote to much mentalizing. It also accommodated very well to another passion of mine, the company of women.

All in all, the prospect of a long and passionate courtship of the Goddess seemed to me a preferable occupation to inventing more devices to empower the thalassocracy of King Minos and his brothers.

I also realized that, although many women had come and gone in my life, all of whom I adored beyond belief, I had never really paid much attention to them. My adoration was not false. It was true, and profound. But my attention was often elsewhere. And I will tell you plainly that all women prefer frequent attention to occasional adoration. Love is what a woman wants -- but what she needs is To Be Seen. You may test this for yourself at any time, with any woman.

So I resolved an inquiry into the nature of Love, and the nature of The Goddess. It seemed to me an extraordinarily promising venture. Even if I failed in understanding, certainly the experiences along the way would be delightful.

This was unneccessarily naive, even for me. I, the caster of bronze, who know better than most that the true nature of flame is to burn, burn. And that Aphrodite's impartial flame consumes as it illuminates.

But then, what can you expect from a nine year old boy who has never understood how he came to be living the life of a sage?

The story begins at dawn on the day the seven young men and seven young women of Athens arrived in Knossos, dedicated to the games of the Bull of Minos.