“Counsel.”
“What! Stones—talk?”
“Hush, hush! In the name of the gods—silence. It is a great mystery.”
Hipyllos listened attentively. He had already heard of a strange connection between demons and stones; he knew that in the temple of Apollo at Delphi there was a stone that had fallen from the sky, which was daily anointed with oil. This was the stone Rhea had let Cronos swallow instead of Zeus.
“As you know, fair maid,” Ninus continued, “I will gladly serve you.”
“I shall not be ungrateful.”
Ninus shook her head.
“Promises are words written in water,” she murmured.
The young girl, without answering, began to draw a ring from her finger but Ninus prevented it.
“The ring is worth eight drachmae,” she said. “Conjuring with the stone will cost ten times as much. Know that hitherto no Hellene has made a baetylus speak. Such things can only be learned in Phrygia.... Farewell, maiden; we must part....”