P.C. Cast: Goddess of Light

"If I go with him, I will lose myself. Eventually, there would be nothing left of me for him to love."

Artemis tilted her head and studied Pamela. "You have great wisdom, my friend. You would have made an excellent goddess."

"Ladies!" like one of the Titans, Eddie's presence shadowed them. "We must hurry. Phoebus awaits, as does our dinner. I have promised to leave you at the entrance of Caesars Palace at exactly eight o'clock tonight so that your own driver can take you from there to the airport."

Eddie frowned his displeasure at the story they had concocted so that the big man wouldn't follow Artemis into Caesars Palace. Artemis had told Eddie that their wealthy Greek family would send its own car for her brother and her promptly at eight o'clock (sunset, according to Pamela's Internet inquiry) at the Palace, and that she couldn't bear to say good-bye at airports. Apollo had, of course, blanched totally white when Pamela had explained to him that a plane was a lot like a big, flying car.

Eddie had been very unhappy about the arrangement, but, as usual, he could not say no to Artemis' divalike demands. The author drew a deep breath, and Pamela thought suddenly how old he looked. "I have agreed to your wishes, but you must agree to be timely. I have a spectacular farewell dinner planned for us."

"Eddie." Artemis pouted prettily, sliding her arm through his and smoothly distracting him from more arguments about limos and rides to the airport. "I do hope you have remembered to find us a restaurant with a good view. I have become overly fond of our splendid dining on that wonderful deck, and I cannot bear to think of how much I will miss it."

"The view will always be waiting here for you when you tire of your travels. But tonight, my Goddess, it seems it is wise that we try something new." The author touched the goddess's cheek, and she nuzzled his hand. Eddie's smile almost hid the sad resignation that haunted his face. Pamela followed them across the courtyard, thinking that Eddie might very well be an even better actor than Artemis.

" I sincerely and thoroughly loathe those metal creatures ," Apollo said through gritted teeth after he climbed awkwardly from the front seat of the limo.

"Sir?" the Bellagio doorman looked confused.

"He gets carsick," Pamela said.

The very British-sounding doorman took one look at Apollo's green-tinged face and his bandaged hand, sniffed his disapproval and stepped quickly out of the way.

She took Apollo's uninjured arm and steered him to the sidewalk. He wiped a hand across his brow and tried to command his stomach down from his throat while they waited during the lengthy process involved in extracting Eddie and Artemis from what he liked to think of as the limo's evil maw.

"Promise me," he said into her ear, "that when it is time for us to return to Caesars Palace you and I will walk there from here."

His words reminded her again of the short time they had left together. As if she needed a reminder. Ironically, it seemed the sun mocked them as it rushed towards the horizon. She tried unsuccessfully to smile at Apollo.

"I promise."

He met her eyes. "I will not live without you. All will be well. Remember that you have my oath."

Pamela nodded quickly. He is Apollo, the God of Light. He can make it happen! He can find a way for us to be together ! she told herself sternly while she blinked back a sudden rush of tears. She needed to focus on her surroundings and keep herself together. No matter what, she didn't want his last memory of her to be of tears and heartache. She wanted him to know she believed in him—in his power and in his love.

The entrance of the Bellagio was an ornate circle drive that faced a balcony that looked down on the edge of the quiet, dark pool that she knew was just waiting for the musical cue for it to spring into light and life.

"The fountains," Apollo said, following her gaze. Putting his arm around her, he pressed her intimately against his body. "Our fountains."

Pamela looked up at him, and this time she did smile. He was so strong and sure of himself—so real. She couldn't doubt him. She had been given the oath of the God of Light. He wouldn't let her down. More importantly, he wouldn't let them down.

"Yes, our fountains," she said.

"Let us not dally! I have a surprise for my goddess for which we must be on time."

Eddie and Artemis swept past them and into the Bellagio. Pamela and Apollo followed more slowly. Inside the entryway Pamela stopped completely. Totally starstruck, she stared up at the ceiling.

"Dale Chichuly," she said reverently, gazing up at the incredible work of art that was the Bellagio's foyer chandelier. "I'd forgotten that he designed this."

Curious, Apollo studied the ceiling. "It is a most unusual chandelier."

"It's amazing. Look at the intricacy of the blown glass and the brilliance of the colors. It's like a field of jellyfish poppies. It's too bad Eddie didn't fixate on this decor instead of tacky Caesars Palace," she said under her breath with a little laugh.

"I don't know…" He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "I've grown quite fond of Eddie's eccentric tastes. It is, after all, what brought us together."

"Dallying! You're dallying," Artemis said, grabbing her brother's sleeve and pulling them over to where Eddie waited impatiently in front of a restaurant whose gold filigree sign said Olives.

"E. D. Faust and party. I have a special reservation," Eddie told the maitre d'.

"Of course, Mr. Faust. This way, please."

They followed the maitre d' through the opulent restaurant, which was literally packed with people on the busy Friday night, to a wall of beveled windows, in the middle of which was a floor-to-ceiling glass door a waiter opened for them, and stepped out onto a large, curving marble balcony that directly overlooked the middle of the famous Bellagio fountains. The maitre d' led them to the single table set with linens and china and crystal. He bowed first Artemis and then Pamela into well-padded velvet chairs.

"As you instructed, Mr. Faust, the balcony has been reserved exclusively for you."

"It is perfection. You may now pour the Dom Perignon."

"Oh, Eddie! How did you know that I have been craving some of that lovely champagne again?" Artemis said.

"I read it in your beautiful eyes, my Goddess," Eddie said.

Pamela rolled her own eyes and shared an amused look with Apollo. The waiter popped the cork, and as he poured the champagne, the first notes of the theme song from Chorus Line brought the fountains to life.

As the song played and the waters danced, Eddie raised his crystal flute to Artemis. "To you, my Goddess. A singular sensation."

"Oh, Eddie!" she said, touching her glass against his and blinking quickly to clear the sudden tears that filled her eyes. "You have dazzled me."

"It has been my very great pleasure to do so," he said, his eyes suspiciously bright, too. Then he cleared his throat and motioned for the waiter to bring menus.

They were served a spectacular dinner against the backdrop of singing fountains and a desert sky that slowly faded from blue to purple. Alone on their balcony, the night felt filled with magic and mystery. Though they were in the heart of Vegas on a bustling Friday night, they had privacy and pageantry. To Pamela it was as if they had been granted a special box seat from the gods of the city.

And, who knew? They might have been. Odder things had certainly happened.

When the last of many sets of fountain songs ended, Eddie glanced at his watch. Grimly, he lifted his bulk from the chair and stood facing the table.

"It is nearing the hour of eight. We have shared wine and food, friendship and music." His kind eyes looked from Pamela to Apollo before they came to rest on Artemis. "Now, I am sad to say, I must bid you farewell. I told you earlier that I had a surprise for you." His gaze remained on Artemis' beautiful face. "Especially for you, my Goddess." He gestured around them. "Part of the surprise was this setting and this dinner. The other part is that I would like to formally announce that I have decided upon the subject of my next epic trilogy. This morning my editor agreed with my proposal for the three books. They will tell the story of a warrior who is sent on a seemingly unattainable quest by his dying people to win the heart of a goddess who, in turn, will promise to return to his people, live by his side, and save their world. The cover of each hardback book will hold an image that will be sacred throughout the hero's journey, the image of his goddess. That image will be none other than the one our Matthew has been sketching of you." He ended his speech with a flourish, bowing to the woman he had proclaimed his goddess.