by James Frey
I can’t help but wonder what the aftermath of Endgame, when it comes, will be like. All I’ve been told is that only the people in the winner’s line will be spared. Everyone else will die. But how? And what will happen to the world itself? Will those who are left be living in ruins? Will all the great cities be completely destroyed along with the people who live in them? I think about the destruction I’ve seen while traveling through Europe, the effects of the war on the people and places here. Endgame will be much worse than that war. Much, much worse. The thought of so many beautiful places being reduced to nothing makes me sad. The thought of all those people being reduced to nothing makes me angry.
I already know that even if I find Ariadne, if Endgame happens during our lifetimes, at best only one of us can survive it. More likely, we’ll both die. That’s not acceptable to me. Which means that I—we—need to find a way to change the outcome. I don’t know how, but we have to try.
When it’s time to meet up with Kenney again, I return to the café. He’s already there, standing outside. When I approach him, he hands me an envelope. It’s thick with what I assume is cash and identification papers.
“Here you go, Mr. Volkov,” he says. “I believe your papers are all in order.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Contact me in one week,” Kenney says. “Use shortwave communication again. The same frequency. I imagine you’ll be able to find equipment easily enough.”
“I think so,” I tell him.
He reaches out his hand. I take it. “Good luck.”
He turns and walks away, and just like that, I’m a new person. I open the envelope and take out the identification papers. Alexander Volkov. I have a feeling this is sort of like being named John Smith back home—generic and forgettable—which is perfect. I return the papers to the envelope, stick the whole thing in my inside coat pocket, and start walking. I have a train to catch.
CHAPTER 5
Ariadne
The Cave of the Golden Horns is lit by torches. They flicker in the light breeze that comes in from the sea and travels down the narrow corridor that leads to the large central chamber in which I now stand. The cave is so named because, according to Minoan legend, this is where the first pair of golden horns was found, the symbol of King Midas and the bull-headed Minotaur who lived in the maze at Knossos. The horns that are placed upon every Minoan Player’s head when she’s chosen and crowned.
I’m wearing the horns now. They’re always donned when a Player is called before the council in an official capacity, which is what’s happening tonight. Only this isn’t an ordinary meeting. I’m on trial.
I was informed of the trial following dinner last night, after it was revealed that the council knows about Boone. How they know, I haven’t been informed. But they do. And they want to know exactly how and why I came to be working with him. I started to explain last night, but I was told to wait until now. The fact that nobody accused me of anything, and that the remainder of the evening was cordial, if not exactly pleasant for me, makes me hopeful that this is just a formality.
My mother, father, and aunt have all told me that there’s nothing to worry about. The thing making me nervous is Cassandra. After the council left last night, she left as well. I haven’t seen her since. I didn’t hear her come in last night before I gave in to exhaustion and slept, nor have I seen her today.
I drive thoughts of her from my mind, and prepare to meet the council. I’m standing in the middle of the room, my bare feet on the sandy floor. I’m wearing a plain white robe and the golden horns. In front of me, opposite the entrance and arranged in a slight arc that mirrors the curve of the cave wall, are five chairs carved out of massive rocks. They look like thrones. They’re empty now, but soon the council members will be seated in them.
As if I’ve summoned them with my thought, the council emerges from a smaller room located behind the stone chairs. They too are wearing white robes, only their feet are encased in sandals and their heads are bare. They enter single file, arranged in age from oldest to youngest. The oldest, Effie Kakos, takes the center chair. Flanking her are Venedict Economides and Xenia Papadaki, and on either side of them are the two youngest members, Ursula Tassi and Nemo Stathakis. I kneel in the sand, my head bowed, and wait for Effie to speak the words that will begin the trial.
“We gather here tonight in the presence of the gods,” she says, her voice strong and sure. “Player, rise and stand before us.”
I get up and face the council. I’ve known all of them for my whole life. One, Ursula, trained me. I’ve eaten at Xenia’s house hundreds of times. Effie taught me algebra, and I’ve bought books from Nemo and received the Lamb from Venedict’s hand. But none of that matters now. Now they are a jury, and their task is to determine my guilt or innocence.
“Player,” Effie says. “You are here tonight to answer questions concerning your recent mission for the Minoan line. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I say, keeping my voice clear and strong.
“And do you give your word that the answers you provide will be the truth and the truth alone?”
“Yes.”
“Very well,” Effie says. “Tell me, did you know that Samuel Boone was a Player for the Cahokian line?”
“Yes,” I answer. “Not at first, but I came to learn it.”
“And did you reveal to him that you are a Player of the Minoan line?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you do this?”
The question comes not from Effie, but from Ursula. She sounds annoyed, as if she can’t believe I would do something so reckless. I know that as a former Player herself, and as my trainer, she understands better than most how this might be a grave error.
“I believed it would create trust between us,” I say.
“For what purpose?” Ursula asks.
“The Cahokian had developed a rapport with Sauer,” I explain. “The scientist was reluctant to cooperate with me. He saw me as a threat. I thought perhaps I could use the Cahokian’s relationship with him to my advantage. Also, he saved my life when Europa and I were attacked by MGB agents.”
“Tell us about the death of Europa,” says Nemo Stathakis. The bookseller is perhaps the quietest and gentlest of the council members. His life has been spent in a world of words, among imaginary friends. His grandest adventures have been in his mind. I don’t believe he has ever left Crete, or ever intends to. Europa was his mother’s mother. His mother was killed fighting the Nazis in the Battle of Crete, and I know his grandmother’s death must be very hard on him. Still, when I look at him, he smiles back at me kindly.
I think about Europa, who went by Lydia in Berlin, and about how she had long been a hero of mine. “She was brave,” I say, trying to forget how the MGB agent killed the old woman as if putting down a dog. “She fought hard. But we were outnumbered.”
“And the Cahokian, he saved you?” Xenia says.
“Yes.”
“Why did he not kill you?” Ursula asks.
I think about how I wondered this same thing when I woke up to find Boone sitting on the bed, watching me. At the time, I thought he was foolish. Now I know it’s because his heart is not as hardened as mine is. Or as it was. Meeting him has thawed it.
I cannot tell the council this, and so I say, “I think he meant to use me in the same way that I used him.”
“You believe he would have killed you once he had the weapon?” It is Venedict who asks this.
“I believe that was his plan, yes,” I tell him. “We needed each other in order to get it.”
I wait for more questions. They have not yet brought up the deaths of Theron, Cilla, and Misha. More of my failures. I know these must count against me as well. Yet when Effie speaks next, it is to say, “Will the witness please enter the chamber?”
Cassandra appears. She has apparently been waiting in the adjacent anteroom. Like me, she is wearing a white robe and is shoeless. She comes to stand beside me, but does not look a
t me.
“You witnessed the Minoan Player with the Cahokian Player—is that correct?” Effie asks my sister.
“Yes,” Cassandra says.
“Can you tell us what you saw?”
“I saw her kiss him.”
The words hit me like a fist. Did Cassandra really see me kiss Boone before he went into the air shaft to retrieve the box? It’s true that she appeared not long after that, so it’s possible. But why has she said nothing about it until now?
“Player, is this true?” Effie asks me.
There’s no point in lying. “Yes,” I tell the councillor. “It was part of my plan. As my sister can confirm, I also ultimately killed him.”
“Did you witness the Cahokian Player’s death?” Effie asks Cassandra.
She hesitates before answering. “I saw our Player administer a wounding blow,” she says. “And I saw the Cahokian Player fall into the opening of a shaft. I did not see him die.”
“So it’s possible that he lived?” says Xenia.
“It’s possible, yes.”
“Possible, but very unlikely,” I interject. “The Cahokian was suffering from hypothermia. His strength was spent. He made no effort at all to fight me.”
“Witness?” Effie says, looking for confirmation of my claim.
“He did not fight back,” Cassandra says. “It was as if he knew there was no reason to.”
Her words are carefully chosen, as if she has been waiting to use them. Breaking protocol, I turn to her. “You know he couldn’t have survived the water again,” I say.
“The Player will refrain from addressing the witness,” Venedict barks.
I return my gaze to the council. There is much I want to say, but I don’t. In my anger at my sister, I’ve managed to convince myself that she’s lying. Only she isn’t. I didn’t kill Boone. And Cassandra knows it.
“Witness, is it your opinion that the Player acted improperly?” Effie asks.
Cassandra’s voice is steady as she replies. “I believe our Player is dedicated to the Minoan line.”
For a moment I think I’ve misjudged her. Then she continues. “However, I believe her judgment was compromised by her feelings for the Cahokian.”
Again I want to deny everything. But I have already lost my temper once. To do so again would be disastrous for me. All I can do is stand there, attempting to control my emotions, and wait to be questioned further.
The council has no more questions, though. Instead Effie says, “The Player and the witness will go to the anteroom while the council discusses this matter. We will call you back when we have reached a decision.
Cassandra turns and walks out of the chamber. I follow her. When we are alone, I grab her by the arm. She pulls away.
“What are you trying to do?” I ask, keeping my voice low to avoid it being overheard by the council.
“I was asked to give a report of what I saw,” Cassandra says. “That’s all. I would have said the same thing even if the Player in question was not my sister.”
“You know nothing about what happened in Berlin,” I say.
She smiles. “I’m your twin. I know things no one else could. You didn’t even try to kill the Cahokian.”
I look away. There’s no point in denying it to her. She’s right—as my twin, she senses things. Also, she’s been trained as a Player.
“You’re right that he probably died anyway,” she says from behind me. “Even if he didn’t, it doesn’t matter. We have the weapon. And if the Cahokians choose to have someone so weak continue to represent their line, it only makes our job easier.”
I want to tell her that she knows nothing about Boone, that he’s stronger than she could ever imagine. Before I can even begin speaking, though, a voice calls us back into the council chamber.
I walk in ahead of Cassandra. She once again stands beside me. But now there is a gulf between us as wide as the Bosporus.
“It is the council’s opinion that the Player has acted imprudently,” Effie announces. “It has also been decided that a vote of confidence will be taken.”
My heart stills in my chest. A vote of confidence is only held when the council questions whether a Player is fit to continue Playing. It has occurred only a handful of times in the history of the Minoan line. And now I’m the one they’re voting on. Everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve ever been, might be taken away from me. It’s all happening so quickly that I don’t even have time to think too much about it.
“We will indicate our votes in the prescribed manner,” Effie says.
Ursula stands. She holds out her fist and opens it. On her palm sits a white stone, which indicates she has found me worthy of retaining my role as Player. I look at her and silently send her my thanks. That one of my own trainers still believes in me makes my heart glad.
Next to stand, on the opposite end of the row of chairs, is Nemo. He holds out his fist and reveals his stone. Like Ursula’s, it is white. Two votes for me.
Venedict rises, wasting no time in showing me his stone. It’s black. He has found me unfit to be our Player. Somehow I’m not surprised. I am surprised, however, when Xenia also holds out a black stone. I think of her almost as my own grandmother, and to have her find fault with me is a pain worse than any punishment I can think of.
With two votes for me and two against, Effie is left to cast the deciding one. She is one of the wisest people I know, and I pray that she will save me.
When her fingers uncurl, a black stone is sitting on her palm. I stare at it as Effie says, “The council has voted. The Player is found to be unworthy of representing our line.”
I think this is as bad as it can get. But it gets worse. Effie has more to say. “The council has also decided that the Player will be succeeded by her sister.”
I can feel elation emanating from Cassandra. Effie steps down from her chair and comes over to us. She reaches out and takes the golden horns from my head. Turning to Cassandra, she places them on her. “In the presence of our gods, I crown you the Player of the Minoan line,” she says.
I don’t know what to say or do. I never imagined being in this position. Now that I am, all I want to do is disappear.
Effie turns back to me. “As the weapon has been recovered and brought to us, there will be no punishment meted out for your failings,” she says, and her voice is not unkind. “Your service is noted and we thank you for it. Now you may go.”
That’s all. After everything I’ve endured to become our Player, after everything that’s happened, I’m dismissed like a child being shooed away from a party where only adults are welcome. A party at which my own sister is the one being celebrated.
I don’t look at Cassandra as I turn and walk out of the Cave of the Golden Horns. I don’t look at the councillors. I look only ahead of me. Only when I’m out, when I’m standing under the stars and Orion is gazing down on me, do the tears come.
CHAPTER 6
Boone
I was concerned about being able to walk through the streets of Heraklion without being noticed, but my worries mostly disappear when I see the crowds filling the squares. Midnight is approaching, bringing the first day of 1949 with it, and it feels as if the entire city is out getting ready to welcome the new year. Stalls are set up, piled with pomegranates and what look like huge onions. There are also food vendors and musicians. Everyone seems to be having a good time, which lifts my spirits, even if I can’t join in.
I’ve paid a man to bring me to Crete in his boat, but I still have no idea how I’m going to find Ariadne, or the weapon, and now that I’m here, I wonder if maybe I’ve made a mistake. For one thing, Cassandra knows what I look like. I’ve disguised myself as much as I can by dyeing my hair with boiled tea-leaf water, which is a trick my mother taught me. It’s made the color only a few shades darker, and it will only last a few days, but it should help. Also, I was able to buy an old sweater, coat, and cap from the fisherman who brought me here. He thought I was crazy for wanting them, and th
ey smell like fish and seaweed, but at least now I look like a lot of the other men in Heraklion.
Still, I’m a little nervous. I have a feeling strangers are quickly spotted here. Right now I’m protected by the crowds, the darkness, and the distraction of the New Year’s Eve festivities, but that won’t last forever. I need to do what I’ve come for and get out as quickly as I can. But I don’t know where to start looking, I have no contacts here, and although I’m familiar with many of the languages spoken by the different lines, Greek is not one I’ve mastered.
For the first time since getting on the train in Budapest, I feel like I might not be able to pull this off. Maybe I should have been straight with Kenney and told him that the weapon has fallen into the hands of the Minoans. But then what would have happened? Would there be an all-out war between our lines? Would he have sent someone else to try to get the weapon? If so, who? Anyone else wouldn’t hesitate to kill Ariadne.
If I’m honest with myself, I have to admit that I’m here just as much to find Ariadne as I am to find the weapon. Maybe even more because of her. That puts me in a dangerous position. Already I’ve kept things from my council and lied about my plan. Both things are probably grounds for punishment, if not out-and-out removal from my position as Player. Until now I’ve told myself that as long as I get the weapon, everything else will be unimportant. But that’s not true. If I do find Ariadne, and she wants to be with me too, what then? Players from different lines can’t be together. It’s impossible given the rules of Endgame. Even once we age out and new Players take our places, it would be forbidden.
“You are American?” someone says in rough English.
A boy is standing in front of me. He’s maybe eight or nine, skinny, wearing patched pants and a coat with sleeves too short for his arms. He’s looking at me hopefully. When I don’t answer right away, he tries again in French. “Êtes-vous français?”