Psyche shuddered and clasped herself in a tight ball on the ground. All around her she could feel a vibration and the marble stone beneath her body was so very cold. But she could not bring herself to move and face the consequences of her actions just yet. She breathed and tasted salt on her lips. She shivered and felt her muscles lock in pain.

Eros, my Lord. I am so sorry. I am so very sorry. My love, I am so sorry.

When her sisters had visited, they had insisted on speaking of nothing other than her mysterious host and would not relent, even as Psyche begged them to tell her what was happening at home. She had pleaded with them to speak of their father, their mother, to no avail. Then they had planted horrid suggestions in her mind.

"How do you know he's not a monster?"

"How do you know he's not just trying to get you pregnant?"

"What happens when he is bored of you?"

"Where did he get all these things for you? How is he so rich?"

Psyche had tried to explain that she felt that her lover was a demi-god or a being of magical heritage at the very least but this only encouraged them further.

"What if he has incurred the wrath of Zeus and cannot be seen, lest he be slaughtered on sight?"

"What if he's really a Titan?"

"What if he has a baby with you and you can never see the baby?"

Psyche then tried explaining that he wasn't always invisible, that at night she could glimpse his outline in the dark and he begged her not to look at him too closely.

"That's it!" Her elder sister cried. "All you have to do is take a candle in at night to catch a glimpse of him. Just to see that he is what he says he is. If he's fast asleep, he'll never even know!"

That doubt – that sinking, gnawing doubt – had tormented her all day and spoilt her visit with her family. She sent them home laden with gifts and trinkets and messages for her family still at home. But Psyche had never felt more lonely.

I know your name. My love, I wish I had trusted you more. I'm so sorry…

A voice intruded, breaking her monotony of regrets with a seductive giggle. Psyche cringed.

"Get up off the floor of the palace," someone off to the side whispered under their breath. Psyche heard them hiss frustration. It was a man but it was not Eros, that much was certain to her.

Someone is trying to help me?

Psyche found the courage to let go of her knees and slowly unravel. She stood humbly, head bowed, staring at the pristine white floor that was inlaid with gold roses. Her tears trickled down the end of her nose.

She was certain she had been taken to Aphrodite's temple.

The laughter above her somewhere became louder, more mocking.

"So the girl has a spine? Oh, we were all starting to wonder. I thought maybe I'd killed you accidently when I moved you. Mortals are such fragile thing. They remind me of butterflies, in that way. Hmm? What do you say to that, little butterfly? Shall I squash you?"

Is that Aphrodite?

Psyche felt her knees quake and held her skirts out so it didn't show. She swallowed but said nothing.

"Look at me when I am addressing you, mortal wretch!"

Psyche raised her chin. Before her was the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite herself, splendid on her throne. She outshone everything, even the glimmering walls of her decadent palace. Everything was lavish, covered in scents and exquisite flowers, shining bright white or gold and shades of pink. It was a throne to the erotic, blissful, splendid experience of love and at the centre of it a goddess with extraordinary power and heart full of vengeance.

Psyche found it terrifying. It took everything she had not to shut her eyes and scream her terror.

Aphrodite abruptly stood in one wonderful motion that made her appear as graceful and queenly as anything Psyche had ever seen. The outfit she had on hardly covered her and showed off the girdle she had wrapped snugly over her waist. The woman was beauty personified.

The goddess smirked.

"You think you could ever be good enough for my son? You think you could compare to any one of the divine? I watched the horrendous shows your family delivered to the travellers and counted the blessings that came in for you. You should have deferred to me when you had the chance, little butterfly."

"I beg forgiveness," Psyche croaked out with courage she didn't even know she had. "I wanted no part in what was happening at home. But I love Eros."

Aphrodite's whole face seemed to gleam with anticipation.

"I can see into every chamber of your heart, mortal wretch. You pine for him even now, don't you? Himeros? Come down."

Psyche watched a being flutter down from the ceiling and almost felt like someone had punched her. It was her love in nearly every way. Seeing his twin made her whole body ache.

Himeros was aloof and stared at Psyche for only a moment before kneeling and kissing his mother's hand. Aphrodite gave him a warm smile.

"At least one of you knows how to behave." She flicked her fingers at Psyche. "What do we do with your brother's new toy?"

Himeros considered the question, raking Psyche with his eyes. She bit her lip and waited for him to come to a decision.

But before he could give an answer, another goddess's voice gently called at the party from above.

"Dearest mother, you must beware."

A light, like a star falling, descended to the floor and Psyche had to shield her face from its intensity. As it flared and faded, a woman came into view. She was stunning and simply dressed in white and yellow, with an enormous jewel dangling from her throat.

"Harmonia, what do you mean?" Himeros glared at his sister and Psyche realised it had been his voice pestering her to get up from the floor. Curiously, Eros's twin did not sound anything like him.

Harmonia didn't even bother to look at Psyche; she engaged her mother's attention.

"Whatever you may think of this mortal, she has our brother's heart. Everyone can see that. Killing her outright could drive him from your side forever, my mother. Consider how ineffectual we would be then, should he choose to leave our service and shoot his arrows no longer?"

Aphrodite almost scowled but on her face it looked impressive and lovely all at once.

"He would not dare…"

"It is not a question of daring," Harmonia insisted, "but a question of what he would be capable of in his lovelorn grief."

Himeros suddenly placed a hand on his mother's naked shoulder.

"Test the butterfly," he urged. "If she breaks because she is fragile, the blame is not yours. If she is worthy to pass your tests, why, Eros might find himself a companion after all."

Aphrodite considered, her head to one side, almost leaning her cheek on her son's hand. She nodded finally at him.

"Tests of worth are used with mortal heroes wishing to become gods… Yes. It is fitting. If you pass the tests I set you, little butterfly, my son may decide your fate and I shall not intervene any further. You hear me?"

"You are a merciful goddess," Psyche stuttered out. "Name your tasks."

Aphrodite pointed behind Psyche to the doorway.

"Go from this temple and you will find a kitchen filled with grain. Separate the seeds into their different types before sunrise tomorrow and you shall have passed the first test."

Psyche bowed and sprinted from the temple, eager to be away before Aphrodite changed her mind.

Her mind whirled as her feet flew. Were Eros's siblings trying to aid her? Harmonia appeared to be motivating her mother to keep the peace, whatever the cost. Himeros had urged her to get up and face the wrath of the goddess, but who knew what he really thought? He had pushed her into these tasks. Psyche prayed that she could meet the challenge.

She came to a door and it slid open easily at her touch. Inside there was a solid mountain of grains, all different sorts cascaded together into a pile that was twice as high as Psyche.

By the gods and goddesses, it's enormous!

There were a number of large sacks laid out on the floor as well, further evidence of Aphrodite's power. Each was supposed to hold a different grain type. There were at least fifteen of them.

Psyche stood frozen by hopelessness. Even if she threw herself into the task, there was no way that one night would be enough time. It would take her hours just to pull out all of the sunflower seeds, and they were the largest of the grain variations. She covered her face in her hands and cried out.

What am I going to do? How is this even possible?

A bag at her feet moved an inch and distracted Psyche from her despair. When she took her hands away to inspect it, she almost yelped in surprise. A huge line of ants had followed her in through the door and were crawling into the sack carrying pieces of grain. On and on they went, all of the same type, all in one line of steady industry. Psyche took a look behind her and saw hundreds more of the ants entering, running to the pile to collect their share. The bags began to bulk as the grain was sorted.

It took her a second, but then Psyche set to work as well. She sifted through the mountain and brought more of the top level down to where the ants could safely carry it off in piles. She made sure that she had a walkway where she wouldn't step on any of her little helpers. She flattened and pushed the sacks to create more room for the grain that the ants could utilise.

Onwards through the night the army of ants and Psyche worked. She lit torches and hung them high, away from where the ants may become burnt. She didn't sleep a wink and continued sifting, sorting, plucking out the larger grains that were harder for the tiny insects to manage.

In the last hours of the night, just before rosy dawn peeked up over the horizon, the job was done. Psyche tied off each of the sacks and whispered her thanks as the army of ants disappeared through the door and the cracks in the walls. She sighed and collapsed over a sack of grain, exhausted.

When she awoke, she was back before Aphrodite's throne and the goddess was in a rage.

"You cheating bitch!" Aphrodite shrieked, slapping Psyche into wakefulness. The girl bowed low on the floor, horrified. "You had help! Some divine being is determined to help you beat me! Well, that was the easiest task, wretch. I will break your little wings and send you to Hades before the day is out!"

Aphrodite took Psyche by the hair and threw her from the room.

"Go!" The goddess yelled and almost spat in Psyche's face. "Across the way you will find a river where golden sheep graze. Bring me back some fleece from the backs of each sheep before tomorrow morning or you will fail!"

Psyche, although exhausted and aching form her last task, found the energy to run.

Magically, the same door she had entered to find the pile of grain was replaced with one that was silver and had thorns all over it. Psyche pushed carefully and found that it led to the side of a river, as Aphrodite had said. She took a moment to splash her face and dangle her feet in the water. She gave an offering to the river, as was the way, by plucking a dandelion from the grass and floating it down the stream while thanking the water for cleansing her.

Psyche walked along the river bed. She prayed to Eros but this time, instead of repeating how very sorry she was, she prayed that he was safe and far from the wrath of his mother. It occurred to her that by succeeding Aphrodite's first task she had thwarted the goddess's plans for the time being and she hoped with all her heart that her lover was not paying the price for the surge of Aphrodite's anger.

Something shone, lustrous in the sunlight. Psyche stopped and peered onwards, wary of getting too close. It was the sheep Aphrodite had spoken of but the girl did not go further. Their golden fleece was mesmerising, almost hypnotically beautiful in the day.

"Beware," a voice told her. Psyche gasped and stopped in her tracks.

"Who's there?"

"Don't be frightened," the voice continued. "I'm Eros's half-brother, Anteros. He sent me to help you out, love. He misses you."

Psyche was intensely relieved by his words. "Where is Eros? Is he okay?"

"Hiding," Anteros admitted. "Waiting for his chance to fly to Mount Olympus when mother is distracted and steal the elixir of immortality for you. She is trying to set you tasks you are guaranteed to fail, you see. She knows that Zeus would agree with Eros but if she can make you fail, perhaps the Lord of the Skies will judge you unworthy."

Anteros sighed heavily. "But don't be scared. We're here to help – even Himeros, although he is acting like he isn't. We won't let you or Eros down."

"My Lord, thank you." Psyche bowed to the air, not sure where he stood.

Anteros's tone was warm and encouraging. "These beasts are fierce in the day because their coats are so hot in the sunlight. Wait until night, when Selene is full in the sky and the wind is cool. They won't mind you walking into their paddock and taking their fleece where it has collected on the posts and trees around them. That shall be enough."

Psyche followed his advice. She sat on the bank and watched the sheep keenly. She collected fruit and nuts to eat and rested herself. Then, when the sun had set and the moon glowed in the sky, she tiptoed across the river and entered the paddock slowly, so as not to startle the beasts. There was a lot of their wool caught in branches and the posts of their paddock which she gently tugged free. The sheep themselves did nothing but watch her silently with their black, fathomless stares.

Psyche packed the fleece into her skirts and hurried away. She laid a tribute to Anteros on the ground with some of her fruit and a snippet of the golden fleece as she left.

Psyche stood in Aphrodite's throne room, meekly staring at the fleece she laid on the floor when the sun rose. She showed no triumph, just patience.

The goddess was incensed again.

"You cheat a second time and you think that I don't know how you are helped? Well, don't think that you can pass the next test!" Aphrodite summoned a huge goblet-looking cup into her hands. It was a curiously ugly thing, heavy and bulky with some sort of opaque-coloured stone set into each side. Psyche wondered where the goddess had obtained it and what it meant.

"This chalice needs to be refilled and the water it holds needs to come from the place it was made." Aphrodite snarled and threw the cup towards Psyche. Psyche caught it at the last second. It was quite heavy. "Touch the stones and you will be taken to the source. Once it is full you must reach the ground again and then you will be restored back to my palace. But you must fetch the water from the very, very top of the source, understand? Fly, little butterfly!"

With a laugh that was more like a snarl of vindictiveness, Aphrodite seated herself on her throne. Psyche touched her palms to the stones on either side of the cup and prayed that wherever they took her, she would land there safely.

Psyche blinked.

The landscape around her had changed rapidly. In the place of a grandiose palace filled with beauty and soft light, warm with the scent of flowers, came a kind of bleak and grey place, filled with stone.

Where am I?

For as far as she could see the earth was flat and coated in the same bleached-bone stones as the ones under her hands. There was only a single break in this forlorn place – an enormous black mountain which was the source of a roaring river that finally trailed down this incredible height to a pool at the very bottom.

Psyche's heart sank. She now understood why Aphrodite had insisted upon the very top. There was only one source of water and it was that formidable mountain. Psyche peered at its sheer sides and wondered how high it went. The river itself was quick, deep and dark with some kind of hidden power seething within it. Psyche wondered if it was safe to touch.

She walked to the pool. It was a treacherous trek to get even that far; the stones were slippery under her feet and the bulky cup made climbing even the slightly incline very difficult.

When she reached that flat, gushing end of the river, she stared. Up close, the water seemed even less inviting and she could almost swear she could hear muttering coming from its depths. Psyche paused.

"Do you know where she sent you?"

Psyche whirled to face Himeros, who sat cross-legged in amongst those awful stones. He stared sternly at her with Eros's eyes and she almost wept. Instead, she shook her head.

He gestured with one sweeping arm.

"Welcome to the very end of the River Styx," he told Psyche. "This place is the border that separates one realm from the next and that is why it appears so strange to look at – half is dead and part of the Underworld, half is alive and filled with stones from Zeus's realm. Don't touch the water."

Psyche took a step away from the river. The Styx! It was hard to believe and yet there it was.

"Aphrodite sent me to get water from the very top of the mountain…" Psyche again gazed skywards. "I don't think I can."

Himeros actually smiled.

"Well, some of us have wings and are immortal." He peered at her with undisguised scrutiny. "If I do this for you, you have to know there is no going back. Mother will set you one last task, one more thing she thinks you can't possibly do."

"I know."

"Do you want to be a goddess?" Himeros asked.

Psyche carefully found her words.

"I love Eros. I loved him without any idea of who I loved. I will do whatever it takes to be good enough for him, I guess." She lifted the heavy cup. "But it is up to you. If you don't think that I'm worthy… I'm going to try and climb the mountain anyway. Eros would do the same for me."

Himeros stared for a long moment and Psyche felt the weight of the cup keenly. There was no way she could do it. There was no way a mortal could touch the waters of the Styx without retribution. There was no way she could carry the cup all the way to the very top to retrieve that water. But just because it was impossible that didn't mean she couldn't try and hope for a miracle. She was a weak mortal, it was true, but mortals with faith could do incredible things.

And often it was love that made them try.

Himeros finally moved, alighting to his feet and spreading his wings wide behind him. He held his hands out for the cup with a grin. Psyche eagerly handed it over. He took it to his chest and leapt into the air. Psyche watched him soar effortlessly higher at a speed that took her breath away before disappearing far out of her line of sight.

Alone, Psyche brought her hands together and waited. The waters gushed in a harsh melody to the sparse place. She thought she heard movement far off in the distance echoing back at her, but decided it was her imagination. After all, the only beings she knew that entered the Underworld were Shades of the dead and the occasional hero. What else would move towards the gates of the Underworld with such a frantic pace?

Who else would want to enter the realm of the dead?