by Amy Lignor
Gareth sighed deeply. He needed the man to end his speech.
“Anyway, city guy was real nice. Rare, but at least he smiled.”
Rare? Gareth wondered.
“He walked them all around and pointed out the places they were allowed to use for a reception. He told me to hang by the bus when he took them in. Said he wanted to show them the courtyard where they could set up some tables for food and stuff.” A visible shudder ran through the driver’s body.
“I still don’t see the problem,” Gareth prodded.
Taking off his weather-beaten cap, Bernie scratched his oily head. “Heard the guy say the couple could see the Throne Room. Guess the old Count thought it would be a cool place for the actual ‘I do’s.’ So they went inside.”
“And?”
“And,” he whispered, “they never came back out.”
“What?”
“City Council guy came back. Winked, smiled at me, said the couple wanted to take a look around and be left alone for a bit. Made it sound like they wanted to have a little pre-marriage fun inside there.”
“You didn’t come back to pick them up?”
He shook his head. “Councilman said the rich guy had a limo coming in an hour.”
Gareth slowly exhaled, knowing in his heart that the story wasn’t over. “Well, that explains that. The couple stayed for a while, checked things out, maybe did have a little fun, and then got a ride home.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But I had a bad feeling about it then. Still do.” He squinted; he seemed to be waiting, studying Gareth’s reaction. “I’m sure the councilman was right, but he was actin’ real strange. I drove back to Heraklion like I had a wolverine on my tail. I couldn’t wait to get the guy off my bus.”
“Did he threaten you in some way?”
“No.” Bernie shifted nervously from foot to foot. “But he watched me the whole time in the mirror. Real creepy-like. He had eyes that looked like, well…like a feline.”
An image of Hansen raced into Gareth’s head. Waiting for just a minute, he grabbed the man’s shoulder as nicely as he could and led him back to the bus. “Thank you for your time, Bernie. I wouldn’t worry about anything, though.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.” Gareth practically pushed him up the stairs and sat him down in the driver’s seat.
“But—”
Pulling out his wallet again, Gareth began to count, watching Bernie’s eyes transform from anxiety to delight.
Looking up from his well-worn seat, he smiled at Gareth. “You have a good day, sir. And if you need anything—”
Gareth nodded, jumping the steps and calling back over his shoulder, “I’ll be sure to hunt you down.”
The doors squealed shut and the rusted ride was suddenly moving, pulling away from the palace, banging and clanging over the rocky terrain. Gareth wondered if old Bernie wanted to make sure he got out of there with the wad of cash before the “nice gent” came to his senses.
Running back through the maze of ropes, Gareth twisted his neck from side to side, screaming Kathryn’s name. Hearing a shout, he whipped around and looked back at the horns. The small, familiar figure was there.
Racing towards his beloved sister, who looked as if she’d been crying for days, he wanted nothing more than for Leah to be by his side. “Please come back to me,” he whispered. Gareth hoped that the gods would carry his plea directly to the librarian who had always answered his call.
CHAPTER 38
Leah could still hear the helicopter blades in the distant field whip round and round, until they finally came to a stop. She actually liked the noise. Any noise was good right now. Silence certainly hadn’t been her friend lately.
The images of horror and the constant worry about what she’d say to Gareth when they met up again filled her brain to the breaking point. She needed to hurry. That’s why she’d rented the chopper in order to get her to Kissamos and deliver her back to Gareth’s side as fast as possible. The more time they were apart, the worse things could get.
Guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders, and her heart beat so fast Leah thought it could soon explode. But when she thought about that, she panicked. Nothing could happen to her. And nothing would happen to Gareth. She had to be given the chance to make up for the disappointment she’d caused him.
Closing her eyes, she willed herself to calm down and do the job she’d come here to do. “Whatever the hell that is,” she whispered angrily into the wind. “I’m following dreams now. Great.” She glanced up at the heavens. “Just for the record, having a mundane life wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
The wind whistled through the grove of trees that surrounded the church, but no clear response from the gods met her ears. It was as if they were hiding, watching her work out the puzzle all alone.
Leah looked down at the back of her hand. She had tried her best not to notice the marking that was acting more and more like one of those mood rings children wore, but she couldn’t help it. The thing was an absolute mystery to her. Once the helicopter had landed in a clearing, she’d taken off through the woods…instinctively knowing where she was headed. And when the church arrived in her line of sight, the bright eye had suddenly reappeared in full-color on her skin. It was completely whole again—as if the scarred flesh had simply been brushed away by the breeze. She was trying her best not to read anything into the event, but she had a feeling that it was a sign stating she was on the right path.
Slowly, she walked around the building. It was more beautiful than others she’d seen. A haven ready to accept the faithful through its doors. “So this is the Rotunda of Michael Archangelos,” Leah whispered. “Wow.”
The sight was breathtaking. It wasn’t large like the fancy cathedrals found all over the globe. In fact, with the exception of the tiered dome which looked like a staircase leading directly to Heaven, and the slightly rusted pewter bell that uttered a soft toll when the wind met up with it, there seemed to be no lavish decorations whatsoever. No stained glass windows or jeweled crosses; the building was modest and unassuming. Only stone, brick, and a great deal of hard work had been put into it, while someone’s love had obviously kept it alive. Leah could feel waves of peace run through her as she stood in the sacred spot that was positively awe-inspiring.
Continuing around the structure, she located a courtyard. It was like a rainbow had been set into the ground by the Son’s own hand. Yellow, orange, pink, and red roses intermingled with bright white baby’s breath. The green vegetation surrounding the mesmerizing colors was thick and healthy, giving the blossoms a luxurious bed to sleep in.
With the shifting winds came the spicy scent of the wildflowers growing beside the immaculate rose bushes. Leah wished Gareth was with her to see this beauty, but quickly shook that thought from her mind. There was no time now.
Staring up at the many windows that’d been cut into the stone, Leah circled the structure to find any signs of what to do next. Her heart fluttered in her chest when she spotted a man kneeling between rows of what looked to be old Byzantine graves. Each stone casket sat side-by-side in the ancient cemetery that was protected, Leah assumed, by the same archangel who believers thought had watched over them in life.
The man was concentrating on one of the caskets. With a pale rag in hand, he moved the cloth in circles over the ancient rock. Leah smiled. It looked as if he was doing his best to keep the homes of the dearly departed clean and polished.
Studying his profile, Leah noticed the tufts of gray that ran through the mass of black hair, making it look like whitecaps dancing on dark waves. Amber colored glasses covered his eyes, protecting the man from the harsh brilliance of the sun. His pants were a bit worn at the cuffs and decorated with spots of paint, and his matching dark blue shirt showed the same signs of labor. The intense focus he had for his task spoke of a hard worker. And somehow, Leah just knew that he was among the highest caliber of men—those who still clung to the belief that a job well done broug
ht about the best rewards life could offer.
She didn’t want to interrupt his peaceful state, but she drew closer anyway. He exuded warmth, like a blanket of love that would make her feel better, and she needed to feel that.
Coming out from her place beside the stone turret, she heard a sweet song escaping through the man’s lips.
Saint Michael, Archangel, defend us in battle.
Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the Devil.
Leah tried to make out the rest but a strong wind raced through the courtyard and drowned out his lovely voice. As the sudden gust died down, she heard the man whisper, “Amen.”
“Beautiful,” she added, without thinking.
Quickly raising his head from his quiet work, he looked over at her—an apparent intruder. It took only a moment before he sat back on his haunches, placed his calloused hands on his knees, and tilted his head to the side, offering a brilliant smile that was the most welcoming sight Leah had seen in a long time.
“I’m sorry.” She returned the smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said, hopeful that his English was better than her Greek.
Removing his sunglasses, he offered a friendly gaze. His eyes crinkled at the corners and Leah’s heart almost burst. It was as if those little lines of happiness were solid proof that the man had lived a life filled with the laughter of a family he dearly loved. Leah wanted those lines someday.
When the man stood up, his knees were dyed the green color of the healthy grass. Walking to her, he put out his hand. “I’m Alexandros.”
To defend man, Leah translated the Greek name immediately, and thought of how fitting it was considering the church he cared for. “Leah Tallent.”
Nodding, the man pulled a small white flower from the pocket of his shirt and handed it to her.
Smiling, she studied the flower that looked like a small star. It reminded her of the ones growing in Athena’s spot back in Pergamon. “What’s this?”
“The Michaelmas daisy.”
“Thank you.”
He gave a slight bow. “Would you like to see inside?” he asked, pointing at the open door.
“Are you sure it’s okay? I noticed there wasn’t anyone around. I figured there would be…”
“Tourists,” he finished with a laugh. “We have them. The faithful come, as well as the ones with their cameras. Many show up here, for one reason or another.” He waited, perhaps wondering if she would unveil her own objective. “But I gather you are here for more than a picture.”
“I just want to, um…”
“See if there’s anything in there which can help you?”
The hairs on the back of her neck began to tingle as the small white daisy slipped in her now sweaty palm. “Why would you say that?”
Alexandros gave a nonchalant shrug and replaced his glasses on his small nose. “Just a thought.” Taking her arm, he led her into the small church.
Leah kept her focus on the man’s profile as they walked. Once inside the cool, dark area his lenses lost their shading, allowing her to once again see his kind eyes.
He nodded at the far wall.
Following his direction, Leah tried not to gasp at the sight. Across from her the painted face of the Archangel Michael looked out from the wall of rock. His body was absent; only the bright eyes and silent mouth of the entity were visible. He had a circle around his head, like the helmet of a warrior—a crown of light that stood, she assumed, for the glorious tasks he’d accomplished.
Taking a step towards the faded paint, her boots clicked on the stones beneath her feet. A clock ticking away the seconds of my life. Recoiling from her own paralyzing thought, Leah stopped and stared down at the highly polished floor.
“Just cleaned in here this morning,” Alexandros spoke proudly. “The dust blankets everything when the wind blows. Upkeep must be maintained.”
Leah nodded but remained silent. She could hear warning bells go off deep inside her brain. The floor was a mosaic pattern of black and white pebbles. The signs of good and evil—correction and conviction—littered the scene.
She knew the caretaker had followed her gaze. “Interesting, aren’t they? Each little pebble was put here by someone who obviously loved this place very much. If you look close, you will see a heart-shaped leaf inside each one of them.”
Leah swallowed, remembering the same heart-shaped leaves growing on a tree in Paradise that the very same archangel protected.
As if the friendly man could read her thoughts, he continued, “Michael was the guardian of the Tree of Knowledge. He stood beside it in the Garden, using his sword to protect the path to Heaven. That was his favorite job. Not a surprise, considering how lovely the documents say it is.”
Leah wanted to really talk to the kind man; tell him how right his statement was. She wanted to share with him the prize that lived under the ruins of Jericho—the place where the water was clean and blue, where the landscape was a lush, dark green, and where the houses were made of colorful stones polished to a brilliant shine.
But instead, Leah hung her head. She and Gareth had been responsible for bringing a modern day demon into Jericho’s ruins and had left him there when they escaped. She couldn’t believe all the errors they’d made with Daniel Bauer. Not only had they allowed him to seize the wealth he needed, but they had also given him the opportunity to partake of an apple that contained an almost supernatural power.
Leah choked on her regret. There was at least one good thing she could attribute to Michael Hansen. He, of all people, had found a way to get rid of Bauer once and for all.
CHAPTER 39
Kathryn’s small body fell into her brother’s arms like an exhausted child. Her voice cracked, “We still haven’t found Emmanuel.”
“How’s the baby? Are you okay? What the hell is going on?” Gareth kept firing questions, wanting explanations. Taking a breath, he stepped back and registered the trauma in his sister’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Kathryn shook in his arms. “It’s just such a…mess.” She hiccupped between her tears. “Gareth…”
“Okay. It’s okay. Sit down.” Gareth scanned the area for a place to rest. A place where he could care for Kathryn, and try to stop her tears so he could hear the facts.
“There are such strange things going on. You don’t know,” her voice was weak.
“I do know,” Gareth whispered. “I think Dad’s alive.”
Kathryn’s arms dropped to her sides and her eyes grew so wide that it looked as if they would burst from her skull. “What?”
Gathering her up in his arms, Gareth ushered her out of the hot sun. Entering the much cooler air of the palace, he placed her on one of the stone benches lining the ancient walls. Looking around the almost barren room, he spotted cases of bottled water stacked neatly in the corner beside other supplies marked with the UNESCO seal, and ran to get her one.
Handing it to Kathryn, he watched her finish every last drop. “Okay,” he said. “Tell me everything.”
“Where is Leah?”
Kathryn offered him a stare he knew all too well. He couldn’t tell her quite yet about the argument. He wanted his sister to have more time to compose herself, to think, to find a way to explain what she was facing. So Gareth did his best to relate all the pertinent details regarding the trip that’d brought him and Leah from Eagle’s Nest to Pergamon to Lion’s Square.
“And…Dad?”
Gareth shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“I can’t believe…everything is so…”
He followed the direction of her vacant gaze and locked eyes on a famous fresco hanging on the wall across from them—the violent game of bull-leaping had been copied. Here, however, there was no red paint added; there had been no vicious alterations made to this ancient artwork as it had been in the museum. Only the bull, itself, seemed to mean business. It stared out the corner of its eye as if waiting for one of the figures to break their concentration so he could pierce them, p
roving yet again who the real master was by having them for dinner.
Gareth looked back at his sister, relieved that her breathing had returned to normal. “Your turn,” he said.
“I’m not even sure where to start.”
“Give me something.”
The look she offered was of someone who simply couldn’t comprehend the world—a mind completely muddled by whatever she had gone through. “This palace goes on forever, Gareth. Every time you think you’ve found all there is, another wall falls down; another room appears. It’s like the place is alive. Like it’s…growing while we’re in it.”
Gareth shivered slightly at her selection of words. “The Palace of Knossos is a huge site, Kathryn. You know that.”
She shook her head slowly. “We’ve excavated larger than this. It’s just that this entire place is a labyrinth, Gareth.”
He attempted to smile. “Are you telling me you came face to face with a half-bull, half-man somewhere in here?”
As he watched her hands ball up into fists and a spark of anger light her eyes, he felt a bit of relief. His sister had always been ‘The Little General’—a nickname he’d given to the girl who had more fortitude and strength than most others could even wish for. So seeing that fire blaze within her gave him some comfort.
“I’m not talking about a children’s ghost story. I’m talking about this place.” Her voice rose in volume; her lips no longer trembled. “Hallways lead to dead ends. Some of the columns inside here are actually upside down, like the builder wanted to add a few extra puzzles to it when he put it all together. There are chambers next to crypts that don’t open.” Her voice grew stronger, as if scolding the long dead architect. “It’s so confusing, Gareth. Sometimes it feels like I’m hallucinating.”
He took a deep breath. “Did Emmanuel know more about this place? Maybe he—”
“There was a voice, Gareth. We heard it. Emmanuel and I searched for it. It was strange. But then I got tired, and he wanted me to rest. He was worried about me. But I know it was—it was driving him crazy. I woke up from a nap and he was just…gone. I couldn’t find him. But I swear I could hear him.”
