Read Online Clash of the Titans by Alan Dean Foster - Free Book Online

you'd better find out about the rest."
    Perseus nodded enthusiastically. "I'll try the helmet, I think." He turned and started toward the cracked statue of Athene.
    "No, try me first."
    He turned, looked curiously at Ammon. "What did you say?"
    "I didn't say anything." The poet's face was pale. "I wish I had. But it came from over there, by the statue of Hera. From the shield, I think, not from the statue."
    Perseus remained motionless. "What do you think I should do, wise friend?"
    "I think that when shields begin to talk, mere mortals would do well to pay attention to whatever they might say, my boy."
    Perseus changed direction and approached the shield. Ammon followed reluctantly, wishing silently for the legs and wind of a twenty-year-old.
    His young companion lifted the gleaming, round shield. The convex front was decorated with the raised likeness of a peacock. Unusual decoration for a war shield, Ammon thought.
    "Turn me around," said the shield.
    Perseus looked back at Ammon, who had no advice to give. Carefully the youth turned the shield, to reveal not the usual lining of leather and sheepskin padding but bare metal, polished to a mirrorlike finish. Both men leaned forward to stare at their own reflections.
    "Curious," observed Ammon. "A shield without padding or lining. Only the arm-straps."
    "Nothing," agreed Perseus.
    "Nothing at all."
    "What about me?" came the voice once again.
    Something was forming in the reflective inner surface. Ammon fought down a sudden urge to test his legs. As ever, his curiosity had the better of him. Perseus simply stood and stared, fascinated by the face crystallizing in the shield.
    It was the wavering image of an old man, but one of much stronger constitution than Ammon. It was weatherworn and aged like a mountain, with a beard like gathering storm clouds. It floated in the shield as it talked to them.
    "Perseus . . . Perseus . . . mark me, Perseus. Mark me well and never forget the words I have for you. These weapons are the gifts of the gods. Guard well this shield, for one day it will guard your life."
    "Guard my life? When?"
    "You will know when the day comes."
    Ammon nodded mentally. Truly the gift of the gods, he thought sardonically, for only gods and writers love to terrorize and confuse straightforward speech with mystery and rhetoric.
    "And the helmet," Perseus asked the face, "what of that? What does it do?"
    "It has the power to render its wearer invisible," the face told him. "There are all kinds of shields, Perseus, and the helmet is but another."
    "Invisible?"
    "Invisible. Not there. Nonexistent to those who might harm you. That is the shield most men desire but few ever master. Guard it well." The face shimmered like a reflection in rippling water, and was gone.
    "Wait, wait! Who are you?"
    "Find and fulfill your destiny." This last admonition was barely audible.
    Perseus put the shield, now a thing of only metal, back down on the stones. "What did it mean by that?"
    "Who can say?" Ammon wore a rueful smile. "Many things, perhaps. In any case, a divine gift should never be questioned. Simply accepted."
    "But I was taught that everything should be questioned."
    "Then question the purpose, if you must question, but not the gift. Now . . . let us see to this helmet."
    Perseus moved to the statue of Athene, trailed by the anxious playwright. Carefully the youth removed the helmet from the head and slipped it onto his own. For an instant he was unchanged. Then the tall, muscular figure vanished like a forgotten dream. Only his voice remained to remind Ammon that he was not dreaming himself.
    "Can you see me, Ammon?"
    The playwright looked toward the source of the question, saw only stone seats and blue sky, blighted grass and a mockingly silent statue.
    "No, nothing," he replied excitedly, "nothing of you at all." There was no immediate response and he turned in a nervous circle.
    "Where are you? Don't play tricks on an old man, Perseus." Then he noticed the shifting