revealed.
The structure was tremendous, far larger than the village of Kreios, with columns as tall and thick as giant trees and rooms stacked upon rooms, with staircases leading up and out. The colorful patterns glimpsed from the beach were actually beautifully depicted scenes of men and women dancing, fantastical sea creatures with large round eyes—and everywhere Larisa looked, powerful outlines of charging bulls. All the outer walls were covered in bulls with sweeping horns, leaping over stars.
The palace was visually stunning but oppressively silent. There were no attendants, no spiraling smoke from a cook fire, not even a cat or dog resting in the shade. There was not a soul in sight. “Where do you think the priest went?” Larisa’s whispered words echoed ominously against the palace’s smooth walls.
“I don’t know but I’m glad he’s no longer around.” Catullus nervously approached a grand temple. “Something about him was not right. He gave me the shivers.”
They climbed glittering white marble steps, which led to a hall of carved red columns that looked like a forest of delicately painted trees.
The interior of the hall was spacious and airy. Thousands of tiny oil lamps flickered in niches surrounding a large shrine at the front of the hall, ornamented with a massive bull’s head carved from glossy blue-black obsidian. The bull had beautiful, compassionate eyes and a golden star in the center of its forehead. Its ivory horns were trimmed with gold and lapis lazuli, and reached so wide they brushed each side of the hall.
“Why have you come to the Palace of Asterion?” A deep male voice echoed around them, seeming to emanate from all directions at once.
“Is this not King Minos’ palace?” Catullus squeaked.
“No!” the voice thundered. “This is not a palace of the living. For years, no one has come to this island—and that is how we want it.”
Larisa turned, looking all around her, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious speaker.
“The Palace of Asterion is a dangerous place.” The disembodied voice rose higher. “We moved our people away nearly a generation ago. No one resides here any longer, except for the guardian priests who have pledged to die with the island. How did you find the island through the enchanted fog?”
Larisa dared to speak. “Our boat found the island.”
The voice softened. “What is your name, woman?”
“Larisa of Kreios.”
The voice dropped in volume and spoke calmly. “Larisa, I’m told you are to be offered to the labyrinth. Do you have a lover or any living family?”
“No.” She answered quietly and waited through an uncomfortably long silence. She nervously held her breath until her pulse throbbed in her temples.
“I will accept this woman.” The voice echoed against the ceiling. “Bring Larisa to the labyrinth.”
The masked priest approached from behind a shadowy column and claimed the tether from Catullus. No hands were visible; only voluminous fabric reached forward.
Larisa stared into the priest’s face, trying to catch a glimpse of eyes behind the mask, and was startled to see there were none. There appeared to be no human beneath the mask and robe, only a vaporous blackness that somehow managed to hold the costume aloft. Her spine shivered at the sight.
“What about me?” Catullus cautiously approached the shrine. “I’ve suffered much hardship to deliver a fine sacrifice to the labyrinth. Is there a reward for my efforts?”
“Yes,” the voice hissed. “You shall be returned to your boat and cast toward your shore. Should you make any attempt to return to the island, a one-eyed, eight-limbed sea monster will snatch you from the boat and drag you to the coldest, darkest depths of the sea.”
Catullus blanched. “I receive nothing?”
The voice remained silent.
The priest’s flowing sleeve silently pointed toward the exit. Catullus looked mortified as he turned and quickly strode from the palace.
The priest gave Larisa’s tether a gentle tug to urge her forward. She looked carefully for evidence of hands or feet, but again saw none as he silently led her through a maze of columns and polished hallways. They finally arrived at a fragrant garden courtyard filled with the most varied herbs and exotic fruit trees Larisa had ever seen.
An ornate mosaic pathway twisted through the elegant gardens, past pear trees and banks of star-shaped flowers. The path ended abruptly at a rocky field of charcoal-gray pumice that stood naked beneath a slate sky. No living thing grew beyond the path. The rocky field’s only distinguishing feature was a large mound topped with a stone statue twice the height of a man, which appeared to be a crescent moon lying on its back. Larisa peered closely at the crescent and realized she was actually looking at a weathered carving of horns. A row of blazing torches led to the statue, sending slender swirls of black smoke curling into the humid air.
The priest stepped onto the rocky field and walked toward the statue.
Larisa was forced to walk behind, each footstep on the chaotically shifting rocks precarious. She watched in awe as the priest strode easily ahead without displacing a single stone.
They followed the torches to the far side of the mound, where a rocky alcove contained what appeared to be a torch-lit doorway sealed with a stone slab. The slab bore the image of a bull. The priest stepped forward, pressed a star carved into the forehead of the animal and the slab shifted with a terrible grating before pivoting open. A rush of cool air escaped through the dark doorway.
Larisa glanced past the priest’s shoulder to the tomblike sanctum beyond. The torches barely lit the darkness of what appeared to be a vast subterranean cavern.
The priest picked up a torch with an unseen hand and motioned for Larisa to walk through the doorway.
She realized this was the entrance to the dreaded labyrinth…
A loud rumble, like the roar of a titanic beast, shook the earth. Fate was mere footsteps away. Her knees trembled as the first jolt of true, primal fear gripped her.
Larisa came to a halt. “Draw your dagger and kill me now!” she pleaded. “Show mercy before you throw my body to the creature.”
The priest turned his head and spoke in a voice that sounded as if he were whispering through a hollow reed. “It is
Larisa frowned in confusion, not comprehending much of anything the priest had said. A roar louder than the most violent thunderstorm erupted from deep within the earth and left her heart pounding.
“Asterion wants you. It’s meant to be.” The priest led her past the doorway and onto the steps of the cave. “Follow me.”
She stepped into the dimly lit entrance, using timid taps of her foot to carefully guide herself down the steeply sloping path. She’d taken only a few steps when the priest suddenly turned back and sealed the doorway behind them. Larisa gasped as the stone slab pivoted shut with a grate of stone on stone, trapping them inside and denying all daylight.
“There’s no going back.” The priest’s voice was a faint whisper. “Stay close.”
Except for a ring of light surrounding the torch, the darkness beyond was unfathomable. As they descended into the depths of the cavern, the air became cool and dank. The smoke from the torch stung her eyes. Her shoulder brushed against a clump of clingy roots and the almost hairy texture made her recoil in horror.
After a long descent, they reached a level floor. The faint sound of dripping water echoed from within an immense-feeling cavern. The torch illuminated a small area of floor and a tall, sturdy-looking stone column, which the priest steered her toward. Atop the column was another head of a bull carved in stone, this one with a heavy bronze ring through its nose.
The priest set the torch near the column. His sleeves reached toward Larisa. “Rise.”
She gasped in shock as her wrists rose as if by magic. The priest deftly secured her bound wrists to the ring with a whisper of a touch as Larisa trembled in fear.
The masked figure leaned closer. “During Asterion’s first hours in a physical body, he will have little self- control. You must be secured to the column to prevent you from fleeing into the labyrinth and being trampled or
