They sat silent in the center of the courtyard of the palace of Knossos, the Shining Princess caressing the brow of the older man, touching his eyes with her fingertips, holding him close. Around them circled the perfect white outlines of the Labyrinth, bright against the gray of the stone, like ripples in water.

Ariadne was puzzled and overwhelmed by the love she felt. Most of the time she thought she knew everything about Daedalus. When she flirted with him, when she enticed him with her play, when she cuddled with him, he would do anything she asked.

But there were times, like now, when his mind seemed to go into a different world, where she could not follow. And not only was his mind incomprehensible, but his feelings. When he desired her, she understood. When he was amused, she understood.

But sometimes his feelings were so complicated she could not even begin to comprehend, and he could never explain.

"Daedalus," she said finally, running the tip of her little finger over his lips.

"Yes." His eyes were closed, and he lay as though asleep in her lap.

"I -- I think I understand why the circle must always begin in the center."

Daedalus sat up, and looked closely into her eyes. "Why?"

"The center is the still point, and everything else moves around it."

"Yes. The still point. The center."

"But it's still hard work," she said.

"There is always hard work to create true beauty," Daedalus said.

"Not the Beauty of the Goddess," Ariadne said. "That is effortless."

Daedalus looked startled. Finally he sighed. "Well, let's get on with it."

"Now we have the Corridors," Ariadne said, looking at the concentric circles around them, "but we don't have the Gates."

"I put the Gates in by geometry, the first time," Daedalus said. "But perhaps this time, we will put them in by your dancing. Would you like that? Can you dance for me?"

"Oh, I came to dance for you, but you've made my back stiff with all your geometry!" Ariadne said.

"Please?"

"No, you love your geometry more than you love me," Ariadne pouted.

"Never!" Daedalus pulled her close to him and kissed her hair. "Dance for me, my beloved."

"No, I'm tired now."

"Come on." Daedalus rose to his feet, pulling the girl up. "We know there must be a Gate at the North and one at the South for the dancers to enter the Labyrinth."

"Yes," Ariadne said.

"And we will put in the rest by your dancing. Dance for me, Ariadne." He pulled her behind him to the farthest northern point of the outside circle. He reached down with the lump of gypsum and marked a line across the circle.

"This is where the Northern Gate goes. We will open the circle one pace on either side of this mark, you see? And when we rub out the line -- we will have the Northern Gate. You enter here, and then --- ?" His voice ended on a questioning tone.

Ariadne looked down at the line and the concentric rings. Suddenly it seemed more difficult than she had thought. She would have to plan every Gate where she crossed from one circle to the next inner one, winding the serpentine path from the outside circle to the center where the Moon Goddess and the Sun Bull waited to be married. She tried to sketch out the path in her mind, but she lost track after the second circle. It was too complicated.

"Dance for me," Daedalus said quietly. "Dance for me."

"I can't," Ariadne said. "I can't."

"Yes, you can, my love. Dance for me. Let the Goddess dance you. Let Her love me in your dance."

Ariadne closed her eyes. She began to hum the melody of the Partridge Dance, the high, sweet line taken by the flute players as they followed the dancers into the courtyard.

Slowly, she began to move, still outside the rings. She turned slowly, her arms outstretched. Quick, quick, slow, she thought. Quick, quick, slow was the step, imitating the hobbling gait of the cock partridge as he courted his hen, one spurred heel held always ready to slash at any other male who approached.

Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow.

In her mind the step-count began to mesh with the melody, and her even turning became uneven and rhythmic. Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow.

The counting in her mind ceased as her body took up the inexorable wave of the Dance. She began to feel light-headed, as when the Priestesses gathered to share the sacred mushroom, or chew the laurel leaves.

She could feel Her presence, she could feel Aphrodite rising within her heart. She still sensed Daedalus beside her, his powerful male presence. As she turned outside the ring, the world seemed to divide into two parts, the male and female, and she drew all that was feminine into herself, compressing it, distilling it into a bright glow of light that spread from her center to her limbs, illuminating her body from within.

She entered the Northern Gate and began to dance.

Somehow, she knew exactly where the lines were, even when she could not see them. She moved into the figure, circling to her right as the sun turns. Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow.

She traveled one complete circle around the outer ring. When she had returned to the Northern Gate, she was no longer Ariadne, but Aphrodite. She twirled suddenly, her arms held high, and found she had crossed the circle. As she entered the second Corridor, she changed direction and began to circle to the left.

Without conscious intent she followed the snake-like path, crossing to the inner circles and changing direction as the Goddess within her bade her move. She was only dimly conscious that Daedalus followed her, marking every crossing with his chalky piece of gypsum.

By the time she reached the most inner circle, her self as Ariadne had been consumed in the flames of Aphrodite, and she was aware of herself only as the embodiment of all that was feminine in the Three Worlds.

Somehow, Daedalus was waiting for her at the center, standing tall and firm, the pivot around which her Dance had spun. He was silent and unmoving, the center of her circle of life.

Reaching the center, she threw herself into his arms, feeling the radiant power that had consumed her flow from her body to his. He said nothing, but folded her in his strong arms. She collapsed, limp, and he picked her up like a doll. For a moment he stood in the center of the circle, as still as though they were carved of stone. Then, slowly, he carried her toward the portico of the palace.

She felt droplets of moisture on her face, and looked up to see the rough-hewn craggy face of Daedalus streaming with tears. The droplets caught in his beard like morning dew.

He is weeping again, she thought. Why is he weeping ? I love him so much.

"Daedalus -- " she began.

"Shh. Be still, Shining One."

"Did I dance well? Please, Daedalus. Did I dance well?"

"You danced well, Goddess. You danced well."

"I am so glad," Ariadne said. "I wanted to please you so much. Tell me I pleased you."

"You pleased me. Thank you. Thank you." His voice was uneven, and broke.

From her balcony on the third floor of the palace, Pasiphae looked down as Daedalus slowly carried the child-like figure of Ariadne toward the Grand Staircase. The noon sunlight caught the gold of Ariadne's hair as it fell over Daedalus' arm.

Pasiphae, Moon-Goddess, Queen of the Kheftiu, brushed a tear from the corner of her own eye. Then she turned and entered the cool darkness of the palace, away from the burning hot sun of mid-day.