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

over, I pried the heavy block farther out of its usual position so that light fell on the cavity below.

It was a safe, of course. There were jewelry and weapons safes all over the Labyrinth. As Daedalus had supervised the construction of his workshop, it was hardly surprising that he had made sure to install one for himself. I ought to have thought of it before. On the other hand, it was lucky I had not, as this would have necessitated a tedious interlude, crawling around on my hands and knees feeling the edges of the floor stones.

Then, inside the safe, I saw the key lying in a golden cup. I recognized it for what it was at once and picked it up.

“The key to the manacles binding Prince Theseus, my lady,” Daedalus informed me.

“Yes, I know,” I said. “Daedalus, are you planning to fly like a bird?”

He raised his eyebrows at the change of subject. “I had thought of it, perhaps,” he admitted.

“There are sacks of feathers here,” I observed, “and a frame for a set of wings all completed.”

“Since you press me, my lady, it has been a lifetime dream for me, and I believe I am close to achieving it.”

“But is there any chance that such a scheme could succeed?”

Seeing my interest, he began to warm to the subject.

“I believe so, my lady. I have made many attempts at flight before, all unsuccessful. But this time I think it will work.”

I picked up the wing structure and turned it over in my hands. “How do you attach the feathers?” I asked.

“The larger pinions are tied on, and the smaller feathers attached with a glue I have made from pine pitch and beeswax,” he said.

“I would like to fly. But would it be safe?”

“Nothing in life is safe. Princess. Certainly not flying.”

“I am not a brave person,” I said, and sighed. “At any rate, I would like to see someone else fly up into the sky.”

“Then I hope that you shall. Princess.” He smiled at me. “And now, tell me if you will, what you plan to do with that key.”

There seemed little point in concealment now. “Ariadne wishes to free Theseus and flee with him to Athens,” I said.

“I see. And how do you come into this plot?”

“I want him to go far away and not come back. He frightens me,” I said, sounding like a little girl.

“For your brother’s sake?”

I nodded.

He was silent for a long moment, thinking. “Perhaps you are wise,” he said at last. “Your father has been trying to bribe me to tell him where Theseus is being held. He doesn’t like to speak too plainly—it’s dangerous for him if his reason for wanting to know is what I think it is—but it’s clear enough what he wants. I have so far pretended not to understand him, but I cannot hold off telling him much longer.”

“Oh, do not tell him!”

Daedalus eyed me speculatively. “I thought at first he wished to know so that he could kill Theseus himself. He has as much reason to hate him as your mother has. But Androgeus died long ago. I am beginning to think—”

“He wants Theseus to kill my brother,” I burst out. “He hates the Lord Asterius.”

Daedalus nodded. “That was my idea also,” he said. He sat in thought for a moment. “I will help you.”

I gaped at him. “You will? Why?”

Then I remembered. Theseus was some sort of relation, Icarus had said. Suddenly it occurred to me that Daedalus and Icarus would be in terrible danger if Theseus escaped. It would seem that Daedalus had deliberately let him go.

“No,” I said. I knelt down and put the key back into the golden cup in the safe and began to rock the stone back and forth, easing it back into place. “No, Daedalus.”

What a fool I was! I ought to have never listened to Ariadne. Every path led to death; if Theseus did not die, why then Daedalus and Icarus very well might. Let it be Theseus, then; Ariadne would forget about him in time.

I pulled the heavy sacks of feathers back over the floor safe and arranged them to look natural. “It is too dangerous, Daedalus,” I said. “They would know it was you who freed him. You must not take such risks.”

“Very well, Princess,” he said, and I could not read the expression on his face.

I paused in the doorway. “Do you think—?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“Do you think that I might learn to fly someday?”

“Would you not be afraid?”

“Yes, I would. But to fly like a bird, Daedalus! That would be wonderful.”

“Yes.” he agreed.

“And although I am a princess, I am not an important one. If I died it would not be a serious problem.”

He smiled and shook his head. “You are still a princess. If anything should happen to your older sisters, you will be queen.”

“I would much rather fly than be queen,” I said.

“I am sorry. But I promise that you shall be the first to see a man fly. The first in the world.”

“Well, thank you for that, at least,” I said sadly.

“You are welcome, my princess.” And he bowed deeply, rapping his forehead sharply with his knuckles.

I had been wrong to leave the Bull Pen even for a few hours. That was the only way to keep my brother safe. My father surely would not seek to have my brother slain if he knew that I never left his side. From now on I would eat and sleep in the Bull Pen. I stopped by my rooms to inform my servant, Maira, of my decision. She protested, but I was firm.

“See to it,” I said, and hurried back to my brother, fearful that my father had somehow managed to free Theseus while I dallied in the workshop.

I ordered the Athenians to withdraw during the night to a small room down the hall from the Bull Pen. I would have liked to dismiss them altogether, but that was beyond my powers. I