let out a breath and made her way out of the temple to search behind its walls.
Unlike most of Delos' ruins, the Temple of Isis had had its stone rear and side walls rebuilt in their original place. Although not as tall as the originals, they were more than high enough to hide behind. From its highest point at the edge of the temple's front cornice, each side wall descended abruptly to where it leveled out a little more than halfway to its intersection point with the eight-foot-high rear wall. Annika slowly circled the temple walls twice — first counter-clockwise, then clockwise. She found no sign of him. She climbed back into the sanctuary.
For a moment she stood quietly staring at the statue of Isis, the rock still in her hand. She walked back to the front of the temple and set the rock next to a pillar. From here, she could see across Delos to the sea and anything moving below.
Annika had wondered when she worked here how any being — even a betrayed king — possibly could possess rage deep and bitter enough to reduce such an extraordinarily vibrant civilization to this tragic island of rocks. She no longer wondered; she knew.
Her mind raced over her plan. If he came for her, she'd see him and bombard him with rocks as he climbed. She could kill him from here — even if he came with a gun. If he tried to flank her from the other side of the hill or from Mount Kynthos, she'd have plenty of time to escape along the ridgeline to any number of paths to other places filled with stones to throw. If he kept after her, she'd find her way back to Isis along another path and start the cycle all over again. Yes, that was her plan. If only her body would cooperate.
Annika knew she'd picked the obvious place for what she had in mind. Anyone familiar with the island could figure that out, but so what? There was no sign of him anywhere. She was here first, and that was all that mattered. This was where she'd fight until help arrived — or one of them was dead.
For the first time, Annika felt prepared for whatever he might try. She stretched out her arms and yawned. The dress she wore as a cape whipped about her face in the wind. She'd become so accustomed to the cold, and her feet so numbed to the pain of the stones, that she'd forgotten she was naked. She touched the dress. It was almost dry. Only parts around her neck were still damp. She pulled it over her head and wrapped it around her neck so the wet ends trailed behind her like a scarf. The wind would dry them quickly.
She wondered how much longer until dawn. Not much, she hoped. Her mind wandered to how it would feel standing as a mortal — a mortal woman no less — with the goddess Isis as first light fired across the legendary birthplace of the god of light, Apollo. It was an enchanting thought — but one that ended abruptly with a flash of light from the base of the hill. Someone was there.
Instinctively, she stepped back. It was a natural reaction to fear, and she knew how to handle it. From the movement of the light, she could tell he was climbing quickly toward her. Annika took two deep breaths and focused solely on how best to kill him before he made it up the hill. It was a mistake she'd realize too late.
25
Andreas and the port cop had an easy time tracking Annika to the hillside. From the way she was moving, she seemed determined to get there as fast as she could and didn't care who knew. At the bottom of the hill by the House of Hermes they stopped to look up. 'She has to be up there somewhere,' Andreas said. He took out his flashlight and ran it along the hillside toward the ruins above.
'There!' the cop yelled.
Andreas had seen it too, a figure jumping back into the shadows of ruins, some 250 yards away. 'Tell Tassos and your buddy we found her and we need those lights here, now. Stay here and show them where to shine them.'
Andreas started running up the hill toward the ruins along an old dirt path and rough-cut stone steps. The wind was howling down the hill; after a few moments he couldn't even hear the cop shouting on his walkie-talkie for the lights. Andreas thought of yelling up the hill, but it was useless to try in this wind. He knew that had to be Annika, but would she be alone? Not having heard from Tassos, he knew the killer could be anywhere — including up there, in that place with the four pillars. All he could do was move as fast as he could to get there — and pray for no surprises. He limped toward his destination. It was a long climb, one he'd not made in years, but he remembered the way. Very few even knew the tunnel existed, and probably none alive had explored it as he had.
He hadn't heard a sound but his own footsteps for almost an hour, but now there was whistling. It was the wind rushing between the loose-fitting stones of the foundation walls of the place just above. He made his way around the last of the maze of boulders and dead-end passages and pulled himself out into a stone-walled space not quite high enough for him to stand fully upright. He still carried the rope.
It was a place built by ancients to hide from pursuers and, if necessary, escape through the mountain tunnel to the sea. He wondered how so many, over so many centuries, had so wrongly guessed the real purpose for its construction. They thought of it as merely the foundation for a sanctuary built to honor three foreign gods: Anubis and Serapis from the Land of the Dead, and Serapis' wife from the Land of the Living.
He moved to the left rear corner of the space and ever so carefully removed two square feet of stone from above his head — and from the floor of the Temple of Isis, wife of Serapis, ruler of the underworld.
Annika knew her time had come. She saw how close he was getting, even sensed it. She had to move. She drew a deep breath and started forward. Her foot brushed against the rock she'd left by the pillar, and without slowing down, she knelt to pick it up. As her hand touched the rock she heard the violent crash of stone against stone only inches above her head and felt a body falling over her from behind.
She'd knelt at the exact instant of the killer's murderous downward swing. He'd picked up the rock after climbing in behind her through the far left corner of the temple's floor. It was meant to shatter her skull but struck the pillar instead and his momentum sent him tumbling forward over Annika and out of the temple.
Annika froze. Where had he come from? She saw him getting on his feet to her right and in panic threw the rock. It missed but made him duck, giving her just enough time to leap out of the temple to her left.
She landed stumbling to her knees, the effort to regain her footing almost too much for her. As she stood, something jerked at her throat, yanking her off her feet again and onto her back. My dress, she thought, struggling to regain command of her limbs. He'd grabbed the tail of her dress.
He slammed his fist into the side of her head, wrenched her over onto her belly, and with his knees pressed firmly into her back, twisted the fabric closed around her neck.
He said not a word to her as he rode out her struggle to throw him off her back; and in the silence she felt his stranglehold intensifying as she lost her strength. Tighter and tighter he twisted the dress about her windpipe. She felt she'd be gone to the darkness in seconds. That was when she heard the words. They came in a harsh, breathless whisper from lips pressed tightly against her ear. 'Your destiny is here. On this altar to Isis. Among my gods. Overlooking our neglected saint.'
Then he kissed her.
With the knowledge that she was about to draw her last breath came a flash of blinding white light.
Was this death? No, she still felt his weight on her upper back. And then, for an instant, he relaxed the noose.
It was only a glimmer of a chance, but she snatched it. Sheer will bowed her back, as she summoned strength to thrust off from the ground, gain her knees, and buck him flying over her head. He landed still holding one end of the dress and yanked at it, but she'd expected it this time and spun out of the dress as he pulled. Her hands found a rock. Adrenaline was back; she was ready to finish this.
The rock hit him hard. She picked up another and flung it but realized she could no longer see him. The blinding light had returned and grown brighter. She threw rock after rock in what she thought was his direction, toward the blinding light. She kept hearing her name. She couldn't see but knew he'd keep coming for her no matter how much she hurt him. She had to kill him. If only she could see, if only… suddenly she felt his grip on her injured wrist. She tried pulling away, but she had no more strength. Then she heard a gunshot. He pulled her closer to him. She tried punching him with her free hand, but he grabbed it and butted her head with his. A second shot, louder. She felt him wince. He jerked and twisted her so she was between him and the light.
