The Crown of Zeus: The Library of Athena Book 1
Page 18
“I remember the inscription,” Megan said. “It was all these weird characters…just like the ones in the book on the hill! It’s Greek!”
“So, maybe this temple has a tunnel, is that it?” Harriet said.
“It’s a start,” Rachel said. “Question is, how do we find it?”
Megan looked around the room. “There must be a hidden entrance somewhere.”
Rachel, Claire and Harriet searched the rest of the room. Megan knocked on stones and pushed on the right side wall. Nothing. Rachel and Harriet searched the back wall. It was covered with frieze panels like the ones hanging from the front of the temple.
“I think I’ve got it,” Harriet called. “Come here.”
The girls ran to her. The figure her hand was on had sunk into the stone, and a small door opened up in front of her.
“Cool,” Rachel said. “Good job.”
“Hey, look at that.” Harriet removed her hand. The image beneath it was an owl.
A long, narrow stairway led down. Megan couldn’t see the bottom. There was no rail, and only three torches to light the way.
“Looks kind of like the escalator at Victoria Station,” Harriet said.
“Be careful.” Megan braced herself against the smooth stone wall with one hand and stepped down. She watched each step, concentrating on not missing any or slipping—a tumble from this far could be lethal.
Harriet yelped.
“What is it?” Megan looked over her shoulder, but couldn’t see what had happened.
“I think I saw a rat.”
“Don’t bother it and it won’t bother you,” Rachel said.
The staircase ended in a dimly-lit, empty corridor with a packed reddish-yellow dirt floor. It ran away from them and into the shadowy distance. There were at least twenty doors.
“Any idea which one of these is the right one?” Harriet said.
Megan shook her head. “I’ll know it when I see it. It’ll have that weird inscription on it.”
“Should we split up?” Rachel said.
Harriet’s head whipped around, blonde hair flying. She glared at Rachel, spots of color high on her cheeks. “Are you crackers? We are not splitting up.”
Rachel shrugged. “It would make the search faster.”
“No,” Megan said. “I think we need to stay together, so that when we find the crown we can get out of here right away.”
“Exactly.” Harriet looked at her feet, like she was embarrassed. “I don’t want to be alone in a dark hallway ever again.”
“This hall isn’t that dark,” Rachel said.
“Let’s just start looking,” Claire said, and took Harriet’s hand. “It’s likely to be in the place farthest away from the stairs.” She marched down the corridor, pulling Harriet behind her.
Claire pointed to the left. “You two look on this side of the hallway,” she said to Megan and Rachel. “Harriet and I will look on this side.”
The first two doors were open. Inside were small rooms with rows of straw-filled mattresses on the floor—sleeping quarters for the priestesses. A girl of no more than seven was inside the second one, sweeping the floor. She gave Megan a slight, puzzled smile and a little wave. Megan smiled and waved back, hoping that their veils would assuage the child’s suspicion, or the girl was under some kind of vow of silence.
The next door was half open. The room behind it was lit by hundreds of candles. Across from the door was a small shrine to Athena.
Probably the priestesses’ personal altar. The statue on the table was a miniature replica of the one upstairs. Here, however, the gifts were simpler. Plates of food, bundles of wheat and wreaths of flowers lay at her feet. Megan stood inside for a minute. She liked this shrine better than the one upstairs. These gifts and this small, quiet room seemed like a place where Athena was truly worshipped, and not just a public display of wealth. She said a quiet prayer, to Athena or whoever was listening, that she and her friends would make it out of this place alive, and stepped back into the hall.
The next four doors were closed. The girls pulled them open one at a time. Two were empty; the other two held stores of food.
“Remind me again how we know the crown is down here?” Harriet said, as she closed the door to the second pantry.
“It’s got to be,” Megan said. “This is where the clues and the diary lead.” She still hated that she wasn’t sure; she hoped she wasn’t leading them down the wrong path and into some kind of trap.
Well, if we all get killed, at least I won’t have to worry about being a social outcast, right?
The thought did not comfort her.
“There are more doors here,” Claire said. There was a little tension in her voice. “We have to keep looking.”
Most of the other doors were locked, and the ones that weren’t opened to empty rooms.
There were just three doors left. “It must be one of these,” Megan said. She didn’t hold much hope—none of them had an inscription. Maybe we’ll find another clue, or a map or something behind one of them. She crossed her fingers beneath the fabric of her chiton.
“Let’s do it,” Rachel said.
Harriet, Megan and Rachel each took one door and pulled. Megan’s was the only one that opened. She fell backward and landed on her backside. “Ouch.”
Rachel giggled as she helped her up. “It’s not funny,” Megan said, rubbing her rear.
“Yeah, it is,” Rachel said, still chuckling.
“But where’s the bloody crown?” Harriet wailed. Inside the open door was not another room, but another hallway.
“There isn’t anywhere else to go,” Megan said. “Might as well try it.”
The corridor was much like the one they had just come from, made of smooth gray stone, except there weren’t any doors. They walked for a few hundred yards when the corridor forked into two different directions.
“Which way?” Harriet said.
Megan shrugged. She really wished there had been a map of these tunnels in Sir Gregory’s diary. The gnawing feeling returned, and with it the uncertainty she hated. “Don’t know. The diary said something about a simple pattern, but that’s all. If we had a coin, I’d say we flip for it.”
“Let’s just pick one,” Rachel said. “If we go for a while and don’t find anything, we’ll backtrack.”
“Uh, Rachel, remember what happened last time we tried that?” Harriet said.
Rachel gave her a cocky look. Harriet held her hands up in front of her in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just saying, all right?”
“Yes, I do remember. We’ll just have to keep track of which way we go. That way we won’t get lost.”
“All right,” Megan said, hoping they were going the right way. “I guess that’ll work.”
Rachel looked from one path to the other. “We’ll go left.”
It was a dead end. The girls walked back to where the passage divided and took the right fork. They hadn’t gone far when they came to another fork.
Rachel didn’t bother to wait for a debate. “Left.”
That one took them down a long run to a left turn, then down another, slightly longer corridor and another left turn.
They came to another fork.
“Ugh,” Harriet said, and smacked her thighs. “Now which way?”
“I know,” Rachel said.
“You do?” Megan said. She was glad Rachel did, because she was very confused. “How?”
We’ve been here before.” Rachel pointed to the dirt. “See, look there, they’re our footprints. We’ve gone round in a circle.”
“A triangle, actually,” Claire said. “There were only two turns and three straight corridors.”
“This is maddening,” Harriet said. “How are we not going to get lost in here?”
“We could use the string again,” Megan suggested.
“But there’s nowhere to tie it up,” Claire said. “And none of us want to stay behind to hold it.”
“Good point,” Megan said.
“I guess we’ll just have to wing it.”
“No, we won’t.” Rachel bent down and picked something up off of the earthen floor. “We can use these little stones to mark our path.”
They walked deeper along the main tunnel. When they came to a fork, Rachel dropped a few stones to mark the direction they had gone. If they came back to the same place, they moved the stones to the other passage.
“That’s strange,” Harriet said. “It seems that the passages to the right are always the correct way to go. Whenever we go to the left we wind up back at the path we just came from. How could that be?”
“Simple,” said Claire. “This corridor is built in a spiral.”
Harriet shook her head. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve been picturing it in my head since we started. “Since we’re always using the right fork, we must be moving in a circle. But since we‘re not retracing any steps, the circle must be getting smaller—a spiral.”
“Well, that’s why you’re first in the class, then, isn’t it?” Rachel said. “Smarty pants.”
Claire adjusted her glasses. “We’re also going down. The slope is gentle, but I feel it. We must be winding our way beneath the hill under the temple.”
“It is simple,” Megan said. “Remember, his diary said it was a simple pattern.” Something else suddenly made sense. “Just like at the beginning.”
“Huh?” Rachel said.
“The hill at the beginning of the story. The path to the book…was a spiral. We’re at the other end of the story now. Another spiral to get to the end. One up, one down.”
Rachel smiled. “You’re bloody brilliant, you know that?”
Using this logic, the girls quickened their pace, and ignored the left-hand paths. Soon there were no more forks, only a smooth tunnel that gently turned clockwise.
“The turns are getting tighter,” Megan said. “We must be nearly there.” No longer able to contain her exhilaration, she ran down the tunnel. The feeling was contagious; Rachel, Harriet and Claire followed her example.
Megan’s feet flew, she practically skipped around the curve. How much farther?
The path straightened out, and fifty yards ahead, the tunnel ended—and there was another door. The door.
Megan pumped her legs harder; she wanted to touch the door, make sure it was real. Home was on the other side of it, she was certain about that.
Rachel ran past Megan. “Last one there has to do my History homework for a week.” She put on a burst of speed. “Come on, slowpokes.”
Megan skidded to a halt. “Rachel, stop!”
Chapter Thirteen: Riddles & Crowns
Rachel sprinted toward the door. “No way.” She looked over her shoulder at Megan. “I’m not falling for—”
Rachel’s sandal came off, and she tripped. She went flying, landed and sprawled across the ground. When she sat up, she was holding her ankle. Megan, Claire and Harriet walked up to her.
“Why did you yell like that?” Rachel said. “I could have been really hurt, you know. Why were you so hot for me to stop?”
“I’m really sorry,” Megan said. “I wanted you to stop, because of that.”
She pointed to something at the end of the hall. A lump covered in tan fur and white feathers. It moved up and down in a steady rhythm. It was breathing.
Harriet took a step closer to Claire and Megan. “What is it?” she said.
“I don’t know.” The excitement Megan felt just a minute ago was gone, replaced by a cold feeling of foreboding. “But we’ve got get past it.” She pointed to the door. “This is the door we’ve been looking for. Those are the same characters as in the diary. The crown is on the other side.” She knew the words were true.
Rachel swallowed hard. “How do we move that thing in front of it?”
“Maybe we can just climb over it,” Harriet said. “I think it’s asleep.”
“Doubt it,” Megan said. “Do you really think it would stay asleep with us climbing on top of it?”
“Let’s just sneak up on it and see what happens,” Rachel said. “If it gets up, we run.”
“And hope it’s not as fast as we are,” Harriet said.
“We don’t have a choice, do we?” Megan suddenly felt very tired. Tears threatened again, and she blinked them away. “Sorry, Harriet. We need to get on the other side of that door. Look, I’ll go first. If something bad happens, run.”
“No way,” Rachel said. “We go together.”
Megan wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Rache, look, I don’t want—”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Rachel interrupted. “You don’t have to protect us. We’re a team. We don’t leave anyone behind and we don’t send anyone by themselves. We go together or not at all.”
Megan looked at Claire and Harriet. They both wore the same determined expression that told Megan they agreed with Rachel. And that’s when it hit her.
It had never been her responsibility. Falling into the book had been an accident, and not once since they had been here had Rachel or Claire ever blamed her. Each of them had done their part to get them this far. Claire with logic, Rachel with her wild sense of adventure and terrific memory, even Harriet with her nagging way of reminding them what they were fighting for.
And Megan got to kill all the monsters. Hey, someone has to do it, right?
Megan wasn’t a goddess of war, or a hero. She needed her friends. They were in this together, to succeed or fail. She couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather be stuck inside a book for all eternity with. “Okay, fine. I give. Let’s go.”
They tiptoed toward the lump. Twenty feet was all that separated them from their goal.
“I think we’re going to make it,” Harriet said.
Megan put a finger to her lips. “Shh.”
The thing moved. A pair of gray and white wings pulled up and away from furry tan shoulders. The head of a woman emerged. Her hair was black, and hung just below her ears. Her eyes were bright blue, almond-shaped with dark, cat-like pupils and full, red lips. She blinked at the girls slowly.
“Who comes to claim the crown of Zeus?” she said, and yawned.
Megan took a step forward, despite the fact that her knees felt as if they were made of gelatin. There was a tug-of-war between her head, which said run, her feet that couldn’t, and her utter joy at hearing they were really almost there. “Uh, we do.”
“Are you sure about that?” Harriet murmured.
“You want to get home?” Rachel said. She stepped next to Megan, and gripped her hand. “Yes, we do.”
The woman-creature pushed herself from the floor. Below the woman’s head was the tawny body of a lion. She stood on four paws, arched her back and stretched both body and wings. Long, sharp claws appeared and retracted. She turned a circle on padded feet and rested on her haunches, long tail wrapped around her hind legs.
“Who are you?” Rachel said.
The creature licked one of its front paws absently. “I am the Sphinx. I guard the door. I guard the crown.”
“And what do we have to do to get you to let us pass?” Megan said, and swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She was glad Rachel was there, holding her together.
The Sphinx’s eyes narrowed. “It is simple.” There was a playful smile on her lips. “You must answer three riddles.”
“And if we don’t?” Rachel said.
“I eat you,” the Sphinx said with a shrug.
Megan really wished she hadn’t asked.
“Great.” Harriet’s face was pale. “Couldn’t you just, oh, I don’t know, let us go?”
The Sphinx shook her head slowly. “That is not possible. Only the wisest may possess the Crown of Zeus. Those that cannot answer are not wise, and therefore not worthy. Those that are not worthy, die.”
“I see,” Rachel said in a strained voice. “Well, then, let’s get on with it, shall we?”
“Just a minute, please.” Claire pulled the girls into a huddle. “We
need a plan.”
“What kind of plan do you suggest?” Harriet said. “Die now, or die later?”
“No, of course not. She said three riddles, right? The first is probably the easiest, to lull us into a false sense of security, the second will be harder, and the third will be the hardest. And I can’t imagine Archibald would use the riddle from the myth. Too easy, everyone knows the answer.”
“I don’t,” Rachel said.
“You’re not Greek mythology scholar,” Claire said. “I think Sir Gregory figured anyone who did make it this far would be, so he would want the riddles to be something a real scholar wouldn’t expect. Or maybe he would.” She screwed her face up, as if thinking about it was painful. “Either way, we need to be smart, and take our time. No one answers until we all agree. Okay?”
Rachel and Harriet piped up in the affirmative, but Megan hesitated. She hadn’t been very good at figuring out the clues, she wasn’t sure she could handle riddles.
So I’ll have to rely on my friends, won’t I?
She nodded her assent. It felt good—more importantly, it felt right, like a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders.
They broke the huddle and lined up across the tunnel, hands joined.
“Are you prepared?” The Sphinx said with a swish of her tail.
Claire nodded.
The Sphinx stood and paced the width of the hall. She looked each of the girls in the eye.
“Very well. Let us begin.” Her lion’s body was taut and muscular. She carried herself like a queen as she positioned herself, head erect, front feet together, eyes bright.
“Riddle the first.” Her voice was like velvet. “A man and his wife have seven children. Half of them are boys. How is this possible?”
The girls gathered around Claire. “This should be easy. Simple math. But I can’t think of how that’s possible.”
“I don’t get it,” Rachel said. “Half of seven is three and a half. It doesn’t divide evenly.”
“Maybe one of the children is half boy, half something else,” Megan said. “We’ve seen stranger things than that here.”