Dancing With Dionysus

Epilogue

Dionysus watched from a balcony in his son's temple as the ship's mast disappeared over the horizon. They were gone. It was time to get his spider back from the bitch who had taken her.

He never paused to think why he wanted the spider so badly. He just did.

There was something so terrifying, so horrible, about the thought of her delicate little frame being at someone else's mercy. Turning away from the balcony, he strode through the temple to his waiting chariot, ignoring the frightened nymphs and satyrs. With some distaste, he realized he would have to find a new ruler for Naxos.

Perhaps he should come down and rule here himself, he thought darkly. If he couldn't trust his own son with the job, who could he trust?

Only himself.

And the spider. The little creature had been his constant companion for decades. Even as he fucked and sucked and drank his way through life, she watched and spun her webs above him. He had studied her work countless nights, and the beauty of her creations never ceased to amaze him. She should have died long ago, but he fed her ambrosia—diluted, of course—and it sustained her. The very thought of losing her was too much to bear. He shook his head, forcing the thought away.

His chariot waited outside the temple. Sabiniano was gone; there was no point in thinking about him any further.

It was time to go and get his spider back.