Lost in the Labyrinth by Patrice Kindl (ereader with android txt) 📗

and sank to his knees. Moving swiftly as thought, Icarus sliced a long slit in the net and tried to pull me through it. I had held my position so long, however, that it was difficult to unclench myself Icarus had to pry my frozen fingers loose and gently drag me away, ever in mortal dread of Asterius’s swinging horns.

Icarus tried to carry me away from Asterius, but I protested. In a weak voice I directed him. “No, let him see me. It may help. We have yet to get him down the mountainside.”

Icarus therefore laid me down near Asterius, where I could reach out a hand, still rigidly curled into a hawk’s talons, and rest it on his flank. Asterius was ashamed, I could tell. He would not look at me, but hung his head mournfully and lowed like a cow.

I scolded him in a soft voice while Icarus examined my wrist.

“It is beyond my knowledge, Princess,” Icarus said. “I do not believe it is broken, but there are many small bones in the wrist, any one of which may be shattered without the fact being obvious. We will have the doctor Asclepius look at it when we return. He is said to be the best in the world, and I know him to be kind and gentle.”

At length I thought to ask about the boy in the tree.

“He is gone, my lady,” said one of the Athenians, a woman. The servants were squatting on the ground in a circle about us, still panting a bit with their own late exertions. “I looked to see, but he was off and gone by the time I did.”

“That boy should be fed to the lion in the Queen’s Menagerie,” observed another of the servants.

“I nearly agree with you,” I said in a shaky voice.

“Certainly I would have left the little whelp to his own fate and then said nothing more about it,” said Icarus.

“No, you would not,” I said.

“No, perhaps not,” he concurred. “But now there can be no attempt at hushing this up. Even if,” he glanced at the Athenians, “even if we could all be trusted to hold our tongues, there is your wrist. It must be tended and you will not be able to use it for a time. That will cause comment.”

I had not got that far in my thoughts yet. Icarus was right. The tale would undoubtedly spread and gain color and volume as it did so. People—most especially my father—would be convinced that Asterius was a wild and untamable beast.

“Could we not—” My eyes traveled around the ring of Athenians and I knew it would not do. They were sympathetic now, but they would not hold their tongues, all the same.

I stood up straight, cradling my wrist, and addressed the Athenians. “We who were here today know what happened. The boy hid behind a tree and threw stones at the Lord Asterius. Only when the Lord Asterius was injured did he seek to harm the boy. I charge you, tell the tale that way. Do not let people believe that my brother attacked an innocent child. As it is,” I turned and looked at my brother. “I fear I will not be able to take him outside the Labyrinth again for a very longtime, if ever.”

The Athenians nodded and made obeisance to me. Icarus made sure of their word by discreetly passing a few coins about the circle. Soon I stood and flexed my muscles, preparing for the long journey down the mountain. As I moved cautiously about, I guessed that I would be most dreadfully sore when I woke next morning, but save for my wrist, there did not seem any serious damage.

Icarus, who had been watching me, called out, loud and clear: “Hail, Bull Rider!” It was the salute given to those who have successfully ridden the bull in the bull games without falling off or being gored.

The Athenians saluted me likewise, crying in unison: “Hail, Bull Rider!”

Traitorous tears started without warning from my eyes, and my cheeks burned like fire. I bowed briefly, as the bull dancers do, more to hide my face than for any other reason, and then quickly turned to look out to sea.

There was a black speck among the dancing sea lights. It was still so far away that I could not make it out.

“Icarus,” I said, and pointed.

His eyes were sharper than mine. “It is the black sail,” he said. “My Lord Asterius’s new servants come.”

Behind me, I heard the Athenians give a soft, sighing cry.

Chapter Six

The Presentation

“YOU BREAK YOUR WORD OF HONOR TO ME, YOUR DAUGHTER and heir, for that posturing ninny?”

I stared at Ariadne, fascinated. I had never seen her so angry. Every drop of blood seemed to have drained from her face. The very hair on her head was alive and waving with fury. Her fists were balled, as though she would strike our mother as she sat on her throne.

“That “posturing ninny” restored your brother Glaucus to life,” Mother remarked calmly, leaning back and studying her daughter. “He deserves a reward. Several rewards, in fact. I value all my children, not my daughters alone.”

“Then give him a reward, by all means. Give him land, a house, a ship, whatever he desires, but don’t give him my Athenian.”

Mother’s eyes grew cold. “None of the Athenians are yours, daughter. They are mine, to dispose of as I see fit.”

“You promised!” Ariadne was now nearly spitting with rage.

I wished I were closer to Ariadne so that I might kick her ankle or deliver a warning pinch to her arm. She was going too far. Ours was a loving mother, but she did not allow disobedience or disrespect from any of her children. As things were, I was too far away, sitting on the floor in a corner of the throne room nursing my damaged arm and playing quietly with Phaedra and baby Molus. The servants who normally cared for them were busy, preparing a feast to