Resembling the very surface of the water, it devours ships and people alike. This god is one of vengeance. It never forgets the ones who escape. And because it reveres Hara, it is always at war with the upper ocean. It rules all the oceans, and from its vast vast basalt throne there flickers flame and music. There it repulses the sun, and at night it keeps watch by the black reef at its northern end, waiting for harpies that love to come back from strange places. There a galley may voyage endlessly, but never a harpy. In its black tower at night it waits, and dreams of little scaly forms beneath its grey stone throne. The men of Pentelicus fear it because it rules the inner sea, and because it whispers secrets not meant for the common ears. But its very roof is a window, and whither do the winds come? Ours was the first ship to spy and rumour it, so that we knew no more of its dreadful majesty. Some day men of courage may sail to Pentelicus and decipher the frightful stone tablet, and learn why its sea-mammal and sun-gorgon-queen is always at war with an invading army of unknown lurkers from the cold waste.