"That is a mother's pride speaking," Daedalus said.

"No," said Pasiphae. "It is the judgment of the First Priestess."

Pasiphae leaned back in the terra cotta bathtub, resting her arms on the rounded rim. Her hand trailed over the painted dolphins, blue and orange against the dark red background of the tub. Her rounded breasts were buoyed by the water, swelling above the surface. Daedalus thought they might have been carved of the finest Lycian ivory.

The small bathing room was lit by a tall, three-wicked lamp of stone in one corner. A bronze brazier of glowing charcoal at knee height stood in the opposite corner, radiating heat into the room. Two attendant priestesses stood by, and the rustle of their flounced skirts whispered in the room when they moved. Dressed in the open bodice and long skirts of the highborn Minoan women, the only indication of their role was the soft Sacred Knot each wore at the base of her neck, tied of Cosian silk. In the golden light of the oil lamps, their rouged nipples were dark against the lightness of their skin.

"Our world is coming to a turning point," Pasiphae said, almost to herself. "And Ariadne is the key."

"Is that an oracle?" Daedalus asked.

"A feeling," Pasiphae said. "Ariadne is the most perfect expression of Her."

"Not more perfect than Glorious Pasiphae," Daedalus said.

"Yes," Pasiphae said. "That is why last year I gave her the title of Most Manifest One. I have never done that before."

"I know. There was talk."

Pasiphae made a geture of impatience, stirring the hot bath water to ripples that reflected back and forth in the small tub.

"Talk. Petty concerns. Fools babbling about things they don't understand."

Daedalus shrugged. "You can't stop palace gossip."

Pasiphae sighed. "No. But, Daedalus, when Ariadne becomes Moon Goddess and Queen of the Kheftiu, the world will change."

"How can it change? The world goes on by natural law, in spite of us all."

"It is Her law," Pasiphae said. "And I believe that with Ariadne, the Goddess will take permanent form here, in flesh and blood."

"She is here in you," Daedalus said.

"Sometimes. I have been fully consumed in Her only four times in my life."

"But you are Her manifestation here," Daedalus objected.

"Yes. But not as Ariadne will be. All women manifest Her in some degree. But there is always -- The Veil. The Veil that both obscures Her and reveals Her."

Daedalus shook his head. His eye caught a trickle of water at the foot of Pasiphae's tub, running into the drain that led to the elaborate network of pipes and channels beneath the palace.

"Your bathtub is leaking," he said. He bent over to inspect the drainage plug that was letting the tub leak.

"Daedalus," Pasiphae said impatiently, "Can't you keep your mind away from the mechanical for even a moment? I am trying to instruct you."

One of the priestesses, a woman of extraordinary beauty, giggled behind her hand.

Daedalus looked up in surprise. "I thought we were just talking."

"You asked for instruction in the nature of the Goddess," Pasiphae said. "Against my judgment I agreed, out of love for you. The least you can do is pay attention. When you ask that, you commit yourself to hearing me as the Goddess, not as a love of your youth."

"I will."

"In Ariadne," Pasiphae continued, "the Veil is -- insubstantial. Thinner. More transparent. She is more the Goddess than she is the human woman."

"She is still a child," Daedalus said.

"You have seen Her, but you have not recognized Her," Pasiphae said. "I watched you laying out the Labyrinth."

"Yes, I saw you at the balcony."

"And did you not see Her then? You were weeping, Daedalus."

"I saw -- something. I saw -- Ariadne."

"Why should Ariadne make you weep?"

"I don't know," Daedalus said. "Of late I have been -- melancholy. Not sad, really. But sometimes there are -- feelings that rush up in me, and I cannot even tell what they are."

Pasiphae smiled affectionately. "Perhaps you are a better student than I believe," she said. "What feelings?"

"I don't know. I -- I think much about you. Why should that make me sad?"

"When Ariadne danced for you, what did you feel?"

Daedalus hesitated. "Love, perhaps. Something -- more than love, perhaps."

"The Goddess was present, Daedalus. There were two doves at the Triple Shrine."

"I did not see them."

"You were too busy with your circles and chalk."

"I saw Her dance."

"Partly. You saw -- perhaps briefly -- you saw through the Veil that separates Her eternal life from our transitory one. You saw Her manifesting through Ariadne, and it made you weep."

"Yes. I don't know exatly what I felt. It flooded me like a great wave."

"Do you know what part you played in Her manifestation?"

"I -- drew the circles for Her dance."

Pasiphae laughed. "Yes, that too. But the Goddess comes to your call, Daedalus. Not the call of your mind, but the call of your maleness. As the Moon-Goddess is evoked by the maleness of the Sun-bull. Without the call of your maleness, She remains hidden. Can you understand that?"

Daedalus was silent for a moment, stroking his beard in puzzlement. "I can express what I understand. I cannot always express what I feel."

"Do you know what you feel?"

"Feelings are too -- mingled together. I cannot separate them. It confuses me, because I cannot name them."

Pasiphae nodded. "At least you realize that much. You cannot separate them because you have never given them your attention."

"I give them attention when they come," Daedalus objected.

"With the same devotion you give your attention to geometry?"

"Of course not," Daedalus said. "Feelings just rise and fall of themselves. They are vague and indistinct. How can I analyze something as formless and insubstantial as smoke?"

"They are only indistinct because of your inexperience, my love," Pasiphae said. "You cannot analyze them, but you can recognize them as another Way of Knowing. The Way of Knowing Her. The Way of the Heart."

"Why should it make me sad?"

"I told you in the beginning there would be pain."

"You must think I am very stupid," Daedalus said.

"I am very pleased with you, my sweet honey-man. Your heart is opening to Her. You see Her when She manifests for you, even if you do not know what it is you see. And even if you do not know it is your maleness that calls Her."

Daedalus shook his head. "Perhaps I am not fit for this," he said at last. "It confuses me."

Pasiphae shrugged, her breasts rising gently in the water. "You have no choice, now," she said softly. "Once your heart begins to open, you must continue."

"My heart has always been open to you. And to Ariadne."

"Ariadne will become Queen at the next cycle, in nine years," Pasiphae said. "And when she marries the Minotaur, the Goddess will be fully manifest here below. Everything that came before will seem like barbarism. When Ariadne is Queen, Her bounty and Her beauty will illuminate this world. It will be the End of the Beginning."

"No mother's pride in this?" Daedalus asked quizzically.

"Of course. But it is the pride of the Great Mother, not the human."

"And the Veil?"

"I think eventually the Veil will drop from Ariadne entirely, and She will be revealed naked to the world. "

As she spoke, Pasiphae gestured to one of the priestesses, who brought a long cloth of soft Egyptian linen to the side of the tub. As Pasiphae lifted herself from the water, Daedalus heart leaped at the sight of her milk-pale body. Her full, rounded breasts were soft as fruit, and the furred triangle of her sex caught glints of reddish gold from the light of the oil lamps.

She stood before Daedalus silently, and when she spoke her voice had taken on a honey-sweet tone.

"Look at me, Daedalus," she said. "Am I not beautiful?"

In the flickering light of the oil lamps, her body seemed to shift and change, glowing as though lit from within.

Daedalus' breath caught in his throat. He was transfixed by the sight of her naked body, offering herself to him. He heard a softle rustle in the tiny room, and saw from the corner of his eyes that the two priestess-attendants had knelt beside the brightly painted tub. Their right hands were at their foreheads, and their left at their breast. Their eyes were lowered.

"Am I not beautiful?" Pasiphae repeated softly.

"Yes," Daedalus said, his voice breaking in his throat. He suddenly found himself on his knees before Her. "You are all beauty."

"Love Me, Daedalus."

"I love you, Goddess, and trust You love me."

"Love Me as Ariadne, Daedalus. And know that I will betray your love."