“All right,” I said. “Let’s try to stick to the subject, shall we? Jim is worried about my swimming alone, and he has every right to worry. All I want from you is your word that you won’t leave me alone. You aren’t a lot of help, but you’re better than nothing.”

“Very well,” said Frederick. “I will agree to be present while you are in the water. Is that what you want?”

“That’s all. I want to be reasonable-”

“Then I must agree. I have no choice.” Frederick rose. “Have you any other demands?”

“I’m not making demands. I just-”

“Then we are agreed. Good night.”

It wasn’t a good night. I slept badly. There was no reason why I should have felt guilty. His attitude was completely unreasonable. But I did feel guilty-and upset. Mother had said she left Frederick because he cared only for his work. I had been pretty naïve to accept that. Had he hurled words like that at her every time she flirted a little or let a friend hold her hand longer than was strictly necessary?

When I finally fell asleep I dreamed, and a Freudian would have found the subject matter of the dream perfectly predictable. I was back in the foul den where the Minotaur waited, and Theseus stood ready to face him. Only Theseus wasn’t an anonymous Greek hero. He was Jim. I saw the sweaty pallor of his face and the way his eyebrows were drawn together, in a capital M. I was myself, and I was Ariadne, the Most Holy, sick with a complex of terrors no modern woman could wholly comprehend. Not only had I betrayed my father for the love of a stranger, an enemy; I had betrayed the goddess, whose priestess I was. The stranger would end the old worship. His barbaric people preferred male gods, and he was the son of Poseidon himself. The Earthshaker would do battle for his son; but which of his sons would he support? The Minotaur was born of the sacred bull, which was Poseidon’s incarnation… Then the stinkingdarkness in the heart of the maze moved, and the bull roar shattered the silence and shook the ground.

I woke with a shriek, to find Frederick shaking my shoulder. I shrank away from him, because he was the sea king, whom I had betrayed.

“What is the matter with you?” he asked irritably.

I swallowed.

“Bad dream,” I mumbled.

“Oh. Hurry and get up.”

We made our way along the path in a silence that was passive, if not amicable. I could tell by Frederick ’s expression and his occasional side-long glances that he had gotten over his anger and would have apologized, if he had been that sort of man. I let my eyes travel along the slope of the hill, with its multicolored strata of rock and gray-green veils of vegetation. The sky was a deep, cloudless blue and the sea below a pale emerald, deepening to sapphire farther out. It was a beautiful morning. I realized, with surprise, that I was going to miss some of this when I got home.

For the first time in days my buddy Alice wasn’t waiting for me. I looked around, and finally I saw the familiar blue-and-white shape. We went on together. I was almost in the exact center of the bay when I found the second amphora.

I was investigating a pile of fallen rock-lava fragments, by the look of them-when I saw the rounded curve of the side and a flash of brilliant color. The orange-red band was like the decoration on the first pot I had found. I brushed away drifted sand and the ornament of the lower part appeared-an octopus, sprawling brown-black tentacles around the flank.

The pot was wedged in by stones. It was a marvel it hadn’t broken, but so far as I could see, it appeared to be intact. The strain in my chest reminded me I was getting short of breath. I had been so excited by the discovery I had stayed down a little too long. I came up and blew the water out of my snorkel. When I looked for Frederick, he was gone.

I didn’t swear because I didn’t want to waste my breath. But I thought of a lot of bad words. I looked up toward the house and saw what I expected to see-the flash of light on a pair of binoculars. There was no doubt in my mind that Frederick knew the identity of the man in the villa and was reluctant to be seen by him.

Watcher or no watcher, Frederick or no Frederick, I had to dive once more. I had no intention of trying to remove the amphora, but I had to mark the site; you’d be surprised how easy it is to misplace an object the size of a jar in all that water. I had my nylon line and an inflatable buoy, which is rather like a balloon, only heavier, so I took a deep breath and went down. I should have attached the line and left; but I couldn’t go without seeing what else was down here. The amphora might be another isolated find, or it might be the most visible of a cache of treasures.

Alice hung around, peering myopically at me, while I pulled the stones away. I was in a hurry, I admit it. I wanted to see what was what, and get out of there. Careless haste causes accidents. But I know now that this accident would have happened sooner or later anyhow.

I had lifted one of the larger stones when it happened. I saw the flash and felt the sting at the same moment. That was what it felt like, just a sharp tingling sensation; it wasn’t very painful. Then the water started to cloud up.

I couldn’t believe it. I stared stupidly at the dark stain in the water. It was small at first, spreading out slow tentacles like a little octopus. But it wasn’t an animal, it was liquid, darker and heavier than the water. It was blood.

It wasn’t the first time I had cut myself. In my own coastal waters coral is omnipresent, and sometimes the damned stuff almost seems to reach out for you. I knew what to do and I did it, moving by pure instinct-a sharp kick that brought me straight up to the surface. I spit out my mouthpiece and headed for shore with my fastest crawl, and I didn’t worry about being seen. I had to get out of the water before the blood attracted some predator. I hadn’t gone ten yards before I knew there was a more pressing danger. Already I felt myself weakening. The cut must have been deeper than I realized. I was losing blood too fast, and shock was having its effect. The water no longer felt warm.

I was still some distance out when I knew I wasn’t going to make it.

Everything had slowed down, like a broken movie film. One picture after another flashed through my mind. Not my whole life, in chronological order, just disconnected pictures. The piece of metal, coiled like a spring, that had flashed out and slashed my arm. The empty rock where Frederick should have been. Jim’s smiling face, under that absurd cap with its topknot of plastic flowers. The side of the amphora and the painted octopus, like the spreading shape of blood in the water.

Then another face, thin and lined, with brown eyes and black hair streaked with white. The face of a man I had never seen before. I recognized him, though. His face and hair were streaming with water, so he had to be Poseidon, come to finish me off. I had invaded his domain and threatened his sovereignty, and now, because I was taking too long to die, he had come to finish the job. A long, sinewy arm reached for my throat. I made a last convulsive effort, trying to avoid that grip, and water closed over my head and invaded my lungs.