What can be done to placate one such as he?"
They talked long, examining the problem each from his own
perspective. "It is a problem without solution!" exclaimed
Proteus. "He seems invincible. Yet even he must have some
weakness, some hidden defect that might be his downfall." Demo
spoke with little assurance.
"None. No, there is not niche in his armor. Any weakness in
another is lacking in him. I should know. Weekly, before the
Golden Isles fell to Glaucus, Oceanus and I played round after
round of golf on those shores. I observed him, talked to him,
learned of his history. He opened up to me. I tell you, no,
Oceanus has no weaknesses."
"What, of all things, does Oceanus most enjoy?"
Proteus sat quietly, only the tips of his tentacles wriggling.
"He enjoys thoroughly power. He likes, of course, a round of
golf. And to talk. Little else."
"Ah, let us wend our way to Poseidon. There is much to be done."
Indeed there was. Day after day they worked with Poseidon,
taught him skills foreign to his domain. With Proteus he visited
the Golden Isles, the throne intended for Oceanus, and learned
much along the way.
"Proteus, when comes Oceanus?"
"That I know not. But this I know, the waves shall not be
still, nor the ocean calm, with his coming."
Demo woke with the leaping and bounding of the three-master.
The ship moaned in the throes of an angry sea. The planks bent
and gave, and sea water sloshed in the hold.
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