by Amy Lignor
Turning back to Gareth, she continued, “Queen Minos would’ve kept her child close to her, like any loving mother would. I also think that she was the one who hired the legendary architect, but without the king’s knowledge.”
“Daedalus,” Gareth spoke the name found in Greek legend.
She nodded. “I think she hired him to make a hiding place for her child so King Minos couldn’t hurt him. She would want to be sure her husband had no way to sacrifice the poor kid simply because he or she was different. Mom would’ve wanted to stay close, but at the same time keep the kid far away from Dad’s vengeance.”
Kathryn walked towards her. “It’s also possible the child wasn’t deformed. You just said that all stories have a base in reality. So, maybe the queen really did cheat on her husband. Not with Poseidon taking the form of a white bull, or anything as ludicrous as that, but maybe she simply fell in love with one of her servants. A completely plausible scenario if you’re married to a pompous jerk. Then, when she gave birth to a child that King Minos thought was his own, there might’ve been some sort of visual difference that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the King of Knossos couldn’t possibly be the father.”
Leah nodded. “Either way, Queen Minos would’ve done anything to protect the kid.”
“Just like any mother would.” Kathryn rubbed her belly.
“Exactly.” Leah smiled, watching Kathryn try her best to hold back tears.
“So where would she have put the entrance to this secret place?” Kathryn asked quietly.
“Somewhere he would never go.”
“Leah,” Gareth interrupted. “He could go everywhere. He owned it all.”
“I said somewhere he ‘would’ never go. Trust me,” Leah replied. “If he had a wife who cheated on him and gave birth to another man’s child, he would’ve put a guard at her door and locked her in. The only time he would’ve let her out was when he forced her to come to his chamber in order to satisfy his own needs, or to punish her for her cheating and lies. His people never would have known about the atrocity because, for a man of power, it would be an embarrassment for anyone to know that he could not control his lowly wife.” Leah spotted a smaller archway hidden behind one of the pillars. “What’s through there?”
Kathryn answered, “The rest of her bathroom.”
“Okay.” Leah went through the slightly narrow corridor—narrow to perhaps provide the Queen extra privacy.
As they entered the inner chamber, Leah noticed another pillar had been set in the center of the floor. Unlike the red hue of the ones that surrounded the mighty palace, this had been painted jet black. Tall gypsum slabs had been placed along the base of the walls, and monochrome frescoes had been painted above them. Most were barely noticeable; the images all but faded, taking their secrets with them.
A light-well allowed the sun to enter the room, spotlighting a small distaff that was protruding from a hole in the wall.
“What is that?” Gareth asked.
“It’s a tool used for spinning fabric. You’d wrap string or yarn around it while you spun by hand,” Kathryn replied in a somewhat bewildered tone.
“Why would a queen want to sew in her bathroom?”
Leah felt the card catalogue creak open. “Yarn. String.” Her thoughts came out slowly; it felt like her brain was putting the pieces together under duress, as her exhaustion came in waves. She gazed at Gareth. “Remember the story of the Minotaur you told me? The young man from Athens came here to slay the beast, stepped off the boat, and immediately fell in love with King Minos’s daughter?” Leah stopped. “Wait a minute. In that story there was a daughter. I thought the queen was childless?”
Kathryn shrugged. “Yes. But Minos was the ruler of the land. I’m sure he had lots of kids with his own harem. It doesn’t mean his actual wife was the mother of any of them.”
“Didn’t think of that.” Leah nodded. “But that’s true. They’re all hounds.”
“Thanks,” Gareth interjected.
“Not you,” she laughed, glancing at the silent blonde woman. “I know you wouldn’t do something like that. No matter what another woman offered.”
Leaving that thought behind, her brain continued to connect the dots. “In the story, this young girl wrapped string around her warrior’s wrist.”
“So he could find his way out of the labyrinth once he was done killing the creature,” Kathryn stated.
“A scenario that could be normal, if you think about it,” Leah said.
“How?”
“The Queen of Knossos wouldn’t have wanted to know the path through the labyrinth, because she’d be afraid of her husband and what he’d do if he ever discovered its existence. King Minos would be able to find the child and kill it. Not knowing the exact layout of the labyrinth would’ve been a second line of defense.”
Kathryn caught on. “So the queen would close herself in the maze, and have a string or some type of tether tied to the wall, with the other end tied around her wrist. She’d call out to her child so he or she would talk to her—drawing her to where the child was. That way she could visit, bring food, but still be able to follow the line back so King Minos wouldn’t notice she was missing.”
Leah nodded.
Kathryn asked the burning question, “But where’s the entrance to the labyrinth?”
Leah studied the room, noticing the small holes that’d been carved into the floor. “Conduits,” she whispered, pointing them out.
Walking over, Gareth touched one of the tiny openings. “Would’ve carried the waste and the water out of the room.”
“To the river outside.”
Gareth grimaced. “I saw the river this morning. It was clean and blue; it sparkled.”
Leah let out a snort. “The palace hasn’t been used for centuries, Gareth. I would assume the sewage is long gone by now.”
“What’s that?” Gareth walked toward the one gypsum slab rising from the floor like a small stage.
“That would’ve been the real throne,” Leah answered.
Without a word, Gareth bent his knees and grabbed onto the slab. Muscles rippled and strained in his arms as he finally, successfully, pushed the piece of rock aside.
When a wide hole was uncovered by his effort, Leah didn’t feel a bit of surprise upon seeing the small staircase that disappeared into the darkness below.
“She put her kid in the toilet?” Kathryn sounded horrified.
Leah mumbled, “You said Minos could go everywhere. But even she knew there was no way a mighty king would go into the sewage drain.”
Gareth nodded. “Yeah. Even hounds have their standards.”
Leah kissed him on the cheek, turned on her light, and aimed it into the hole. “After you.”
“As it should be.” Gareth winked.
Leah knew what they were doing. Their casual banter was far easier to toss back and forth than focusing on the reality of brutal murder, and the fact that a very real monster was most likely waiting for them down below.
“The king should always go first,” Gareth added.
“The King of Sewage. Talk about climbing the ladder of success.”
“May I remind you that you married me? Where does that put you, my queen?”
“If I had to guess, I would say it puts me in a very deep pile of Minotaur shit.”
As Gareth began the descent, his strained laughter echoed in Leah’s ears. Her chest constricted as a fact hit her right between the eyes: Her true love’s laughter was right now soaring through the winding paths of a deadly labyrinth down below…and anyone down there might hear him.
CHAPTER 45
“Jesus. Talk about your mazes.” Leah exhaled, staring down the intricate walkway that seemed to go on forever. Around every corner came either disappointment or hope. Some paths continued on, brighter than the one before; while others terminated in dead ends.
Pointing down one of the corridors, Leah spied brand new candles flickering on the walls, illuminating the twisting path. “We s
hould go that way.”
“Little easy, don’t you think?” Lange let out a sigh. “Do you honestly believe a killer would show you the way?”
“Yes,” Leah replied instantly. “Hansen has waited a long time to get his revenge. If he’d gotten his way back in Germany, he would’ve killed us right then and there. It was a man named Daniel Bauer who let us live.”
Gareth interrupted, “He didn’t let us live, Leah. He threw you in a dungeon and turned on valves of poisonous gas.”
“All true,” she said, attempting a smile. “But he also let my hero out of his sight, like an idiot, which ensured my survival. When you’re around, I have nothing to worry about.”
“I feel ill,” Lange muttered.
Leah grinned at her. “That’s just the remnants of the sewage. You’ll get used to it.”
Taking a step back, Lange took her place behind Kathryn.
“Shall we?” Leah asked, heading off down the candlelit path.
The concept of North versus South was completely gone. They’d turned so many corners Leah was beginning to wonder if the annoying woman had been right after all. There were no signs of blood. No screams came from up ahead. Except the footsteps around her, everything was eerily silent.
But when Leah caught sight of a dark spot on the floor, she slowed to a crawl, pointing it out to Gareth. “Blood?”
Taking a step closer, Gareth aimed the flashlight. His voice came out like a whisper when he figured out what it was. The glossy substance seemed to flicker in the candlelight. “More mercury,” he said, shaking his head.
Leah put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I promise not to fall face-first in it this time.”
“You fell into a puddle of mercury?” Kathryn’s anxious voice sprang up behind them. “Did you swallow any of it?”
Leah sighed. “A little. And before you ask, I went to a doctor who said everything was just fine.”
“You should get a second opinion when we get home.”
Leah rolled her eyes. “God, you can definitely tell the two of you are related.”
“We want to keep the people we love with us for a long time,” Gareth whispered. “Get used to it.”
They walked in silence for a few more uninteresting yards, before the tunnel began to grow warm. A thought bombarded Leah’s brain; she suddenly wondered if the people convicted by Michael’s sword were forced to walk a path similar to this, straight into Hell.
Reaching into her pocket, she closed her hand around the beautiful white flower given to her by Alexandros. Inside her soul she could almost feel hope blossom, as if in some mystical way the caretaker was protecting them from this cold, ruthless world.
The sudden grip that fastened around her wrist was so tight that it slowed the blood pumping in her veins.
She wanted to run.
She wanted to scream.
She watched in silence as Gareth was pulled from her side by other mysterious hands that seemed to appear out of the walls of immovable rock.
He fell. Hard.
The duffel bag and knapsack fell beside him. Leah hadn’t noticed that Gareth had brought them along. The weapons of Athena had been with them for so long that they’d become almost invisible to her, like extra limbs.
She did not fight against the hand that held her in place, she just watched as two large men pulled Kathryn and Lange across the floor, locking their wrists in manacles that hung from the wall.
Leah finally moved. Glancing down at her own hand, the tattooed eye gleamed. But just above it, the hand that clenched her wrist showed a circle of blackened skin.
Her heart exploded in her chest. She wanted to stare at the hand forever. That way, she wouldn’t have to raise her gaze and know that all this time she’d been completely and utterly wrong. But there was no choice.
By lifting her head, all hope perished. She was barely breathing when she looked over her shoulder into the eyes of a dead man.
“Hello, Leah.” Daniel Bauer offered her a brilliant smile. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again.”
CHAPTER 46
Leah couldn’t find her words. There was nothing suitable to say. What would she ask Daniel Bauer? How one survives an explosion? How someone could possibly escape from an inferno?
Leah couldn’t even fathom the sight. Here she was, in the middle of an ancient labyrinth, and her world had once again been turned upside down. There was no way to understand this; all she knew was that she’d much rather be faced with a mythical, hungry bull right now than the all-too-familiar bastard that stood behind her.
Daniel dropped her wrist, but Leah remained completely still.
“I saw you in Pergamon.”
She raised her gaze to his.
“I wish we could have had some together time there. But, alas, I had to move on.” He paused, apparently waiting for a response Leah wasn’t ready to give. “I’d been following Hansen since the accident,” he grinned. “I knew the moron had the real crown and would lead me to it. I mean, since he thought I was dead anyway, he probably figured he was good to go.”
Bauer’s face grew disappointed. “But when he went to Pergamon he just retrieved something I didn’t care about, made a phone call, then left. I would have, too, but you arrived. Right there. Close enough to touch. So, I stayed. Thought maybe you would dig up something for me. Alas, nothing.”
She finally found her voice. “If Hansen left that quickly, than it had to have been you who set up that room.”
His eyebrows furrowed on his forehead. “Room?”
“The floor of mercury? The horned vipers? Quite a scene.”
Bauer shook his head, staring at her as if she were insane. “Seems we have things to talk about, don’t we?”
“You didn’t try to kill us?”
“Well, I might have driven my truck a little too close to you when I left the place, but that kid pulled you out of the way.”
Leah closed her eyes, remembering the gloved hand waving back at her from the window of the old pickup truck.
“You mentioned decorating, however. Look around you.” He laughed, pointing at the walls. “You gotta give Satan credit. He was a darn fine decorator. How Hansen figured this out and brought the crown here for safe-keeping, though, I’ll never know.”
Leah felt yet another layer of shock set in as she finally took in their surroundings. They had made it to the center of the labyrinth, and familiar pictures had been carved in all the panels on the walls. The Archer of Sagittarius held his regal bow and arrow right beside Libra, holding tightly to her scales of justice. Pisces had been carved in its own cement block beside the regal Leo, who held his paws in the air—just waiting for the command to strike her down like he had tried to do once before. Leah thought about the last time she’d seen these figures. It had been in the great cave back in Glastonbury. And here they were again. Alike, but different—two sides of the very same coin.
All this proves is that Satan was a thief with no imagination of his own, she thought. Could he have really created this as an entrance into a sweltering world of pain and anguish? Could the gates to Hell really be decorated with the same astrological signs that guard the gates leading into Heaven?
“Wait,” Leah muttered, shaking her head, focusing longer and harder. This isn’t the same. There was no entrance here; there were no gates to open, no empty locks waiting for some astrological keys to be inserted. That crucial part was missing for this to be a path into the actual Underworld.
After studying them closely, it was now easy to see the blatant differences. The faces of the creatures were warped. Leo wasn’t the regal beast that exuded loyalty, courage and honor. No. This carving had eyes that were crossed, and sported a mane that stood up on end.
With this sign of Sagittarius, the archer held a bloody sword, and on his face he wore the creepy smile of a victorious serial killer. Scorpio’s deadly tail had been sliced off, and Gemini’s twins faced each other in battle. All of this had clearly b
een created by a sick mind to be nothing more than a joke.
But when her gaze fell on Libra, Leah could barely breathe. The figure bore the black hat and angry face of a Halloween witch, but on her scales were—Leah felt her stomach churn.
Real human heads had somehow been cemented into the stone, covered in a substance that looked like wax. Sitting atop the unbalanced scales of justice, on the left side, was a man wearing a look of surprise. The missing Count, Leah thought. And perched on the scale dangling from the witch’s right hand, was an older woman with her eyes closed. The wax covering had grown cloudy; skin had started peeling away, exposing the very real bones that resided in her human cheeks. She was joined in death with Skylar. The once beautiful face of the young librarian was now set in a mask of fear that would forever live in this wretched place if Bauer had his say.
Leah looked away. “You’re disgusting,” she mumbled.
Turning to the other wall, a wellspring of hatred rose inside her as she recognized Daniel’s apparent guards. They were the same men who’d rushed to their aid just last night in the museum. She spoke to Bauer, “You set up that room for us to see at the museum. Hansen had nothing to do with it.”
For this accusation she received a big smile. “Actually, I didn’t,” Daniel laughed. “Although, when you have good people working for you, you can insert them anywhere at any time to do your business. And the best part is,” Daniel said, taking a step closer, “no one ever knows who’s working for me.”
Leah rolled her eyes. Disregarding the henchmen, she scanned the people chained to the wall—people she knew and loved. She swallowed her tears. There was no way she’d give Bauer the satisfaction of seeing her defeated. Instead, she buried her emotions deep inside.
Anippe’s voice was awash with guilt. “I am so sorry,” she whispered.
Leah shook her head. “It’s not your fault. Where’s Aaron?”
Tears filled her sister’s black eyes. “Hansen killed him.”
“Then I’m the one who’s sorry,” Leah said. She moved her gaze to Neith’s exhausted face. She didn’t want to ask the question, but she had to. “And, Dad?”