by Kyla Stone
Poseidon sent Minos a magnificent white bull which stepped ashore from the midst of the waves and strode to Minos. The people immediately accepted him as king. Foolishly, King Minos so desired rare and beautiful things that he kept the bull among his own herds, offering another, lesser bull in sacrifice instead.
Poseidon became enraged at Minos for his hubris and disrespect. In revenge, Poseidon caused Pasiphae, Minos' wife, to fall into an unnatural love with the white bull. Desperate to consummate her passion for the bull, Pasiphae turned to Daedalus, the master inventor, for help. Daedalus constructed a lifelike hollow wooden cow, covered in a real cow pelt. Pasiphae climbed inside it, and the fake cow was brought to the bull. Deceived, the bull mated with the wooden cow.
Pasiphae conceived. It was not a healthy child she birthed but a malformed creature with a human body and the head of a bull. King Minos immediately desired to kill the child, but the Oracle of Delphi warned him not to or he would suffer even further from the wrath of Poseidon. So, the monstrous child lived. Pasiphae named him Asterion and loved and cared for him, raising him alongside her two daughters, Phaedra and Ariadne. But as the boy grew, he became ferocious, overcome with bloodlust.
To contain the monster (and make some use of him), King Minos called upon Daedalus’s ingenuity. The king had enslaved the Athenian inventor and his son, Icarus, in punishment for helping Pasiphae. Now, King Minos commanded Daedalus to build a massive Labyrinth, an enormous maze that no man could find his way out of again. The Minotaur was placed in the heart of the Labyrinth, where he stalked and devoured whatever criminals and enemies King Minos chose to punish with a horrific death. The half-man, half-bull became known as the Minotaur.
While the maze was being constructed, King Minos’s only remaining son, Androgeus, visited Athens to take part in the Panathenaic Games. The prince easily won every game he entered. Several jealous Athenian athletes conspired together and murdered him in cold blood.
In a grief-stricken rage, King Minos blamed King Aegeus and Athens for the death of his son and the end of his family line. He gathered his formidable Cretan navy and sailed against the Athenians, easily overpowering them. At the same time, a devastating plague beset Athens. King Aegeus consulted the Oracle of Delphi, who instructed him to give King Minos whatever he demanded to save Athens both from Minos’s army and the plague.
The price Minos demanded in his revenge was a cruel one: Every year (or every nine years according to some sources), Athens must offer a tribute of seven youths and seven maidens, chosen from among the most beautiful sons and daughters of Athens. The tributes were locked inside the Labyrinth, where the Minotaur hunted them down in the dank, twisting passageways and devoured them, one by one.
Meanwhile, several years before the birth of the Minotaur, King Aegeus of Athens grew more and more desperate, as he lacked a male heir. He traveled to Delphi to seek advice from the Oracle. Upon his return, he stopped at Troizena and met the maiden Aethra. He seduced her.
According to several versions of the myth, that very same night, Poseidon took a fancy to Aethra and revealed himself to her, appearing out of the sea to lay with her also. In this way, both Poseidon and Aegeus were considered the fathers of Aethra’s child.
Before Aegeus left Troizena, he hid his sword and his sandals under a great boulder. He told Aethra that if she became pregnant with a son who grew up strong enough to lift the boulder, she should instruct their son to bring the artifacts to Athens, where Aegeus would recognize him as his son and heir. Aegeus then returned to his palace in Athens.
Theseus grew up hale and strong. When he came to manhood, his mother showed him the great boulder. Theseus easily lifted the great stone and claimed the sword and sandals that Aegeus left for him. Once Theseus learned the truth of his origins, he set out for Athens at once.
His mother urged him to travel by ship, the safest way, but Theseus insisted on traveling the long way via land. He knew the journey was rife with the danger of robbers, bandits, and wild, blood-thirsty beasts, but he was determined to prove himself with heroic deeds before arriving at his father's kingdom.
Along the road to Athens, Theseus defeated several enemies, including a bloodthirsty pig, a giant, and Procrustes, a robber who waylaid travelers and then cut off parts of them until they fit his short and narrow bed. Theseus served Procrustes in the same fashion, winning through strength and cunning.
Theseus finally arrived at Athens and presented himself at his father's palace. However, he did not immediately state his identity. Unfortunately, his father had married Medea, a witch who had earlier murdered her children by her former husband, Jason of the Argonauts.
Medea instantly recognized Theseus. She considered the arrival of this young stranger a threat to her own possible heirs and persuaded Aegeus to poison him at dinner. Just as Theseus was about to raise the poisoned goblet to his lips, Aegeus recognized the sword he carried at his side. Just in time, Aegeus leapt to his feet and knocked the cup out of Theseus’s hand. The king embraced Theseus and acknowledged him as his son. Medea fled.
Theseus’s joy was short-lived, for he soon discovered the terrible plight of his father’s subjects. When he learned of the boys and girls forced to sacrifice themselves to the Minotaur, outrage burned within him. Theseus insisted that he be one of the seven youths sent to Crete, where he would attempt to kill the Minotaur with his bare hands.
Aegeus was distraught at the possibility of sending his son to certain death just after finding him, but he was unable to dissuade Theseus. Heartbroken, the king gave his son a set of white sails. The ship wore black sails as a token of mourning, but if Theseus succeeded and returned alive, he was to change the black sails for white ones for Aegeus to see from afar as he stood searching the sea for his son. Aegeus vowed to throw himself into the sea if his son did not return to him.
Theseus promised to do as the king asked. Confident he would slay the monster, he set sail with the thirteen other tributes for Crete. When the ship reached Crete from Athens, Theseus met Ariadne, daughter of King Minos and Pasiphae. Ariadne fell in love with Theseus at first sight and resolved to betray not only her father but her monstrous brother to save him. She offered to save him; in return, Theseus promised to whisk her away and marry her.
Ariadne secretly gave Theseus a sword and a ball of thread and instructed him to fasten one end of the thread to the entrance of the Labyrinth, while Theseus kept hold of the other. When Theseus and the tributes were forced into the Labyrinth, Theseus traveled the dark maze to its very heart. There in the darkness, he heard the snorting and bellowing of the enraged and hungry Minotaur. After a fierce battle, Theseus slew the Minotaur. Using Ariadne’s thread, Theseus guided the terrified youths and maidens out of the Labyrinth.
Ariadne waited for Theseus at the entrance. Together with the tributes, Theseus took Ariadne, as he had promised her, and boarded the waiting Athenian ship. On the return voyage, they stopped overnight at the island of Naxos. Theseus may have been a hero, but in the original myths, he was also selfish and did not love Ariadne. He abandoned a still sleeping Ariadne on Naxos and set off for Athens without her.
Ariadne awakened and found herself alone on the deserted seashore. She could still see the black sails of Theseus' ship, far out to sea. Ariadne wept and cried out in despair, calling on the gods to witness Theseus’s broken promise. She betrayed her own family, giving up everything to be with Theseus. In return, he left her alone to die on this small island.
In some versions, Ariadne’s tale ends here. In others, Ariadne suddenly hears the beating of drums and timbrels and wild voices raised in joyous song. She turned to discover the god Dionysus himself, accompanied by bacchants and satyrs. Dionysus fell for her immediately and asked for her hand in marriage, promising to be forever faithful. Ariadne dried her tears and became the god's bride, eventually joining the ranks of the immortals.
Meanwhile, Theseus sailed on triumphantly to Athens. Whether he simply forgot amid celebrating or the gods took v
engeance on Ariadne’s behalf, Theseus failed to replace the black sails with white ones as a signal of victory.
His father, King Aegeus, stood watch daily at the cliffs, waiting for the ship’s return and hoping for his only son’s safe return. When he caught sight of the black sails billowing in the wind, he assumed Theseus was dead. Overcome with despair, and true to his vow, he flung himself from the cliffs into the rocky waters below. To this day, it remains the Aegean Sea in his memory.
It was with mingled grief and rejoicing that Theseus returned to Athens. The people were overcome with joy at the death of the Minotaur and the return of their children. They hailed Theseus as a hero and crowned him King of Athens.
While Theseus’s personal life was troubled and tragic, he was a fair and good king, for he set out to do everything he had promised Ariadne. He ended the constant wars between the tribes by offering the people a commonwealth without a powerful monarchy—a people’s government, a democracy. Theseus united Athens and built a thriving city of order and peace.
Theseus’s exploits were spun into myth, the glorious tales told of him outlasting the man himself, just as he wanted.
Acknowledgments
Thank you as always to my awesome beta readers. Your thoughtful critiques and enthusiasm are invaluable. Your suggestions and criticisms inspired me develop Ariadne into a stronger, more fierce hero. Thank you Becca Cross, Lauren Nikkel, Michelle Browne, Kimberley Tremblay, Jessica Burland, Sally Shupe, Jeremy Steinkraus, and Barry and Derise Marden.
To Michelle Browne for her skills as a great developmental and line editor. And to Eliza Enriquez for her excellent proofreading skills. You both make my words shine.
Jenny Avery, thank you for your willingness to search through this finished manuscript. You still managed to find a few pesky errors.
To my husband, who always helps with deadlines and plot holes and listens patiently to problems about imaginary people.
And to my kids, who show me the true meaning of love every day and continually inspire me like only children can.
About the Author
Kyla Stone is an emerging author of contemporary young adult fiction and suspense/dystopian novels. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband, two children, and two spoiled cats. When she’s not writing or spending time with her family, she loves to read, hike, draw, travel, and play games. Her favorite food is dark chocolate.
Kyla loves to hear from her readers. For news and new releases, visit her at:
www.Facebook.com/KylaStoneBooks
www.Amazon.com/author/KylaStone
Email her at [email protected]
Also by Kyla Stone
Beneath the Skin
Before You Break
Real Solutions for Adult Acne
Rising Storm
Falling Stars
Burning Skies
Breaking World
Raging Light
No Safe Haven
Labyrinth of Shadows
No Safe Haven Chapter One
Silence could drown a person.
At least, that’s what Raven Nakamura’s mother had said three years ago, the day she left for good.
Her mom didn’t have it quite right, though. It wasn’t silence. There were more sounds than Raven could count—the whirring of insects, the breeze rustling the elm and maple trees lining the flagstone paths, and the constant calls, screeches, hoots, bellows, grunts, and growls of the numerous and varied exotic animals that lived here.
Maybe it was isolation that could drown a person.
More likely, her mom was full of crap, telling herself whatever would justify leaving her daughter behind.
Raven watched the swishing tail of the Siberian tiger lying twenty feet below her. He blinked at her with yellow eyes that shone with a vicious, uncanny intelligence. A seven-year-old male, Vlad weighed over five hundred pounds and stretched nine feet from nose to tail.
He was a creature of incredible power and beauty. Rippling orange fur striped with luscious inky black. A great, thickly maned head. Enormous paws that could rip a man’s face off. Every inch of him formidable—and exquisitely lethal.
The tiger was just fine with isolation. They were solitary creatures by nature, nomads of the jungle. Or, in this case, of Haven Wildlife Refuge, the family zoo Raven’s father owned and operated in the rolling hills of northern Georgia.
Raven wasn’t afraid of being alone. She vastly preferred it to human contact of any kind. She’d gotten that from her father. It was her mother who couldn’t stand the loneliness. Who’d hated it so much she would rather leave her daughter behind and seek companionship elsewhere than stay.
Raven gritted her teeth. Usually she was successful at keeping thoughts of her mother buried in a dark corner of her brain, shoved somewhere down deep. Out of sight, out of mind.
Except for today. October sixteen. Raven’s eighteenth birthday.
Ironically, the only person who remembered was the one who’d chosen to leave. Also ironic, her scattered, emotional, depressed mother had managed to send the package three weeks early. Which was fortunate, since the postal service drones hadn’t delivered the mail for nineteen days.
Scraps of clouds drifted across the sun, shining brilliantly in the cobalt sky. It was sixty-five degrees. She was dressed in her usual cargo pants, black work boots, and a loose T-shirt. Her mask hung loose around her neck, just in case.
It was a beautiful fall day, too beautiful for the dark tangle of emotions knotted inside her.
She held the small unopened box in both hands. She didn’t want to know what it was. But also, she did. She’d rather hurl it into the tiger enclosure so Vlad could rip it to shreds as part of his daily enrichment activities.
But if she threw it away unopened and unread, the little niggle of curiosity tugging at her would remain unassuaged. This was the last birthday she’d ever have here, which meant this was the last present from her mother she’d likely ever receive.
Raven shifted on the tiger house roof, leaning over the edge to catch a glimpse of her hiking backpack slumped against the steel wall. She’d spent the last week packing, stealthily scrounging supplies—snare wire for small animal traps, single person tent and sleeping bag, life straw and water filtration tablets, a tin cup, plate, and pan, flint and spare lighter, compass, toiletries, hunting knife, granola bars, and a few self-heating meal pouches.
She may have packed in secret, but she needn’t have worried. Her father noticed nothing unless it had to do with the exotic animals or the maintenance of the refuge. He barely noticed her unless he was instructing her in one of his favorite subjects: survival skills, hunting and zoology, or how best to scrub black bear urine out of concrete.
And now, with the keepers failing to show for the third week in a row, her father was pulling sixteen-hour-a day shifts just to keep it all running. She was right there with him, working until her fingers blistered, until her bones ached with exhaustion. But to him, it was like she didn’t even exist.
She ignored the pang between her ribs. It was just as well.
Today she was leaving.
She’d had enough. Enough of people that only hurt you. Enough of this place that once seemed fascinating and magical, but now only held dark memories of disappointment and regret.
She knew how to survive on her own. Knew what berries were poisonous, which plants and nuts and mushrooms were edible, knew how to track game and set snares, how to construct a shelter in the rain or start a fire a dozen different ways.
Her family owned a hunting cabin fifty miles away. It was deep in the woods, far from humans, far from the chaos gripping the overcrowded cities. Most importantly, far from her dad and the sharp, bitter memories of her mother.
A person could be loneliest around other people. Living, working, and breathing right next to someone else, someone who was a stranger but shouldn’t be. A loneliness that hurt more than actually being alone. Maybe that was what her mother had meant.
It was
time to go, to strike out on her own.
No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t leave the gift unopened. She despised herself for her weakness, but she couldn’t stop herself. She needed to open it.
Raven set aside the attached letter and slid her fingernails between the cardboard flap of the box, slicing through the tape. She dug through the balls of Styrofoam and pulled out a small knife.
The handle was off-white, a polymer imitation of ivory, and carved in the shape of a howling wolf. The blade was short, slightly curved, and sharp. It was a whittling knife, for the animals Raven used to carve and display on her bedroom windowsill.
She hadn’t carved anything in three years. Not since the day her mother left.
Raven sighed, disappointed in spite of herself. What had she expected? Last year, her mother had sent a ridiculous hoverboard, as if she’d forgotten Raven wasn’t ten anymore. The year before that, an old, preowned SmartFlex, which was useless because she already had one—just as old, just as preowned, that she kept stuffed in a drawer.
Her mother didn’t know her anymore.
She flicked the blade closed and shoved the whittling knife into her pocket. She didn’t want it, but she couldn’t leave it on top of the tiger house. A strong wind might blow it into the enclosure and Vlad, who ate everything, would swallow it whole.
Her gaze landed on the white square of the envelope. Only her mother actually wrote letters instead of messaging. But then, the internet had gone sketchy weeks ago. Nothing was working anymore. Maybe her mother was smarter than Raven was giving her credit for.
Her stomach tightened. She didn’t want to read it. What was the point? It would only make her feel like crap.
Almost against her will, her fingers crept toward it. Giving in, she grabbed the letter, ripped it open, and skimmed her mom’s familiar precise, flowing script with eyes that had suddenly grown traitorously blurry.