Then Amarion’s face came into view, his hands clutching both sides of his monitor. His eyes were wide and he was breathing heavily. “Get to safety,” he panted. “Get out—go now!”
As quickly as he’d appeared, he vanished again, this time jerked away by some unseen force. I sucked in a startled breath. Then Amarion screamed, a hoarse, horrible sound filled with such desperate agony I cried out myself. The screaming went on, incoherent and wordless, for what felt like forever—until it cut off as abruptly as if his tormentor had pressed a button.
There was a dull scraping sound, stone over wet stone. Something filled Amarion’s little rectangle. It was nothing human, with its pointed jaw filled with serrated shark’s teeth, its pebbly skin, and its flat black eyes the size of saucers placed close to its nose slits. It was bright blood red—and in a moment of horrible clarity, I realized it was actually covered in blood. Human blood.
It took hold of Amarion’s monitor and tilted it until it was looking at me at a weird, inhuman angle. Its bloody lips twisted in a smile that showed bits of flesh clinging to the horrible teeth. In a voice that pushed every one of my primal panic buttons, it said, “You’re next.”
9
I screamed and slammed my laptop shut, sending Xerxes flying as I scrambled backward until my chair fell over and hit the floor. I kept going, clawing my way back until I came up against the center island. I couldn’t stop seeing the invader’s hideous face, bloody with what was left of Amarion. I closed my eyes and flung my arms over my face, panting in mindless terror. You’re next. Any moment now, I’d feel its teeth on me, tearing out my throat.
“Helena!”
I heard Malcolm run into the kitchen, his bare feet slapping the tile unnaturally loudly. He crouched beside me, putting one arm around my shoulders and supporting me to a sitting position. I clung to him, my chest aching from how hard my heart was pounding, my throat raspy from screaming.
“Helena, what happened? Are you hurt?”
I shook my head. “The Labyrinth,” I said. “Amarion is…they’re under attack, Malcolm, you have to stop them.” Tears spilled down my cheeks. “He’s dead. It’s too late. He’s dead.”
“The Labyrinth is under attack?”
I nodded. “It killed Amarion. I’ve never heard anything so terrible.” I opened my eyes. Malcolm had his gun in his other hand, and his eyes scanned the room for hidden threats. “It said I was next,” I whispered, and burst out crying.
Malcolm shoved his gun into the back waistband of his boxers and helped me stand. My knees wobbled too much to support me. Deep inside, I screamed at myself to toughen up, to stop sobbing like a baby, but the memory of Amarion’s final screams rang in my ears. My friend, who’d died horribly at the teeth and claws of an invader while I listened helplessly. Nothing in the world could make me strong enough to bear that.
Malcolm lifted me in his arms and carried me to the living room, where he deposited me on the couch and knelt beside me. “I have to call Lucia and the node in Athens,” he said. “I’ll be back.”
I nodded and clutched a throw pillow like a shield against memories, and gradually my tears subsided into shuddering breaths. No. I wasn’t going to let this throw me. I could only help Amarion by doing what I’d done, telling someone who could maybe get Wardens to the Labyrinth in time to prevent it being destroyed. And by refusing to let my fear keep me from doing my job. Maybe that meant I was suppressing my pain, but at the moment, I didn’t see any alternative that wouldn’t leave me a sobbing wreck.
I wiped my eyes and lay on the couch, hugging my pillow and staring at the blank television screen, until footsteps heralded Malcolm’s return. I sat up, and Malcolm sank onto the cushion beside me and took me in his arms. “There are teams going to Knossos right now,” he said.
“But it’s probably too late.”
“If we don’t go, it certainly will be. Can you tell me what happened? I’m afraid my instructions to Desmona Papadopoulos were along the lines of ‘go now, don’t argue.’”
“Did she? Argue?”
“Des is an old friend of mine. She hung up before I could finish talking. I have absolute faith in her ability to handle anything that might have happened at the Labyrinth.”
I drew in a deep, shuddering breath and discovered I’d stopped shaking. “We were in the middle of our call,” I said. “There was a noise—Amarion went to see what it was. Then he came back and shouted at us to get to safety, and something grabbed him, like…like snatching him out of his seat. Then he screamed. It was—” I swallowed, controlling myself. “I’d never heard anything so awful. It cut off, and that’s when the invader looked into the camera and said I was next. Or we were next. I don’t know who it was talking to.”
Malcolm kissed the top of my head. “I’m so sorry, love,” he said. “This is exactly the sort of thing I wish you wouldn’t have to witness.”
“Yes, but isn’t it part of my job? I mean—not that being a custodian means I have to see terrible things, but if the invaders are striking against named Neutralities, that puts me front and center, unless I want to abdicate.” I hugged him more tightly. “You said it yourself—I’m strong, and I can deal with this. I just need a better way of dealing than suppressing my fears and my awful memories.”
“You’re right. You are the strongest woman I know.” Malcolm loosened his grip enough that he could look into my face. “Desmona will call when it’s all over, if only for more of an explanation. She’ll tell us what happened. But you ought to go to bed.”
“I can’t sleep after that. Not until I know the worst.”
Malcolm nodded. “I understand. Do you want to wait here, or in the bedroom?”
“Here. If you’ll wait with me.”
He chuckled. “You couldn’t pry my away from your side.”
We sat together and waited. Neither of us wanted to watch a movie, and I didn’t suggest turning on the television to see if the news would report a mysterious disaster near Knossos. Like the Fountain of Youth, I didn’t know exactly where the Labyrinth was, but Iakkhos had told me it wasn’t in a town. So it wasn’t likely to show up on the mundane news the way Berryton had.
I wondered what would happen if the Labyrinth were exposed to the world, like how some archaeological sites were revealed when new digging happened. It had been built in the 1400s, far too recently for the typical Greek archaeological dig, but not new construction either. It might mean disaster for the Wardens if they couldn’t cover it up. I didn’t think even the most powerful magnifica illusion could conceal something that size.
Despite what I’d told Malcolm, I was drifting off when Malcolm’s phone rang. I sat upright and stared at it. Malcolm answered, saying, “Des?”
There was a long silence. I couldn’t hear Desmona Papadopoulos’s voice even as a murmur. Malcolm nodded. “I didn’t know that would happen, but it makes sense,” he said. Another long pause. “If Lucia—” he said, then stopped as if Desmona had cut him off. “No, yes, I understand. Small blessings.” This time, the pause was long enough I got antsy, wishing he’d put her on speaker. “All right,” Malcolm said finally. “Thanks. That’s as good a result as we could hope for. Yes, I’ll tell her. Goodbye.”