[i]"Father Zeus," Pria spoke, under the thunder of the war in Heaven, trapped beneath the cast-off vambrace of the Orleans, which even now reeled from the lance-thrusts through its breast, and its reactor vented in columns of fire speckled with the colors of the aurora, the deep places of the sky; it would come to rest in the deep places of the water, and its honored passages be no more than the road-ways of the fish who gleam with those same colors, for all belong to the Lord of the Depths. "Glorious and great! Spare me, and see me safely home, where I have left my clutch in incubation, and promised to return to them. If I am to live, send me a sign; show me one of the birds of good omen, that I might see it and know I am not meant for the Halls of Hades, where there is only slumber on a dark bed, dreamless and without stirring."

Zeus, Lord of Counsel, heard her prayer. Forthwith she sent the kingfisher, whose breast is smeared with blood and whose wings are the colors of the shallow waters, and the red light of dusk gleamed on the wings of the swift hunter, who darts through danger without misfortune. And seeing this, she redoubled her efforts, and dug her fingers into the sand, straining with the very dregs of her strength to work her way from beneath the ruin of lance-slagged metal. But she was sorely wounded, and her legs twisted beneath her; many weeks would she spend in the care of an autosurgeon, were she to live. And seeing this, Zeus sent forth one disposed to escort those on their way, guide and guardian, slayer of the living dead, player of the electric strings.

Forthwith she bound on glittering sandals, with which she could dart faster than the Hind of Artemis; in one hand she bore a wand of power which was the impression of a shape, with which she could turn aside disaster and say: be not as it was. To look at, she was like a young woman of noble birth in the heyday of her youth and beauty, with the skin of a great lion draped over one shoulder. And when Pria saw her, she took her for Zeus in the form of a youth; but her eyes were shining green and blue.

"Thunderer, save me," she cried; and the champion of Zeus took the vambrace of the Orleans and with a great cry overturned it, as the wild boar hooks its tusks beneath the belly of a turtle. Then she took Pria up in her arms with great care, and said, "Honored grandmother, you do not die today." And at these words, Pria wondered; but then the champion of Zeus touched her forehead with the wand which was not, and sleep overtook her. To the Violet Ward the champion bore her on swift feet, and laid her down on a cot, and she breathed good fortune and renewed spirit into the daughter of Calybe.

Then on light feet she returned to the battle, and without weapon she roamed fearlessly on the beach, and dived into the sea to aid those who fell from the heights of the sky, and wherever the Alced were hard-pressed there she came to bear away the fallen and bring solace to the dead. And her hair was a shroud of gold over her shoulders, and where she came the battle stilled and turned aside, and the Alcedi gave her the name Epimelios, guardian of the flock.[/i]