The Ariadne Connection

PETER DUCKED UNDER THE lintel, carrying the covered soup bowl. Demetrios turned, putting a finger over his lips.

Ariadne was laid out on the narrow bed, straight and still, arms at her sides like a corpse arranged for viewing. But she had some color back, chest rising and falling smoothly beneath the sheet, face serene.

Demetrios took the bowl and set it on a wooden stand at the head of the bed. He touched the big crystal lying on the sheet under her lax fingers, and turned to Peter with an inquiring lift of his bushy brows.

Peter shrugged. “Something to do with her healing experiments. She was delirious on the way up, kept muttering about Uncle Dmitri and his magic crystal. . . .”

Demetrios pursed his lips and turned back to his sleeping niece. “Hmm. The ancient amulets I collect?” He touched the crystal again, murmuring, “What has my poor Kri-Kri gotten herself into? Waking up the Old Ones? And now all the Furies chasing her. . . .” He turned back to Peter, palms lifting in an expansive shrug as he tilted his head toward the cliffs shimmering in the sun beyond the open shutters. “Sometimes I think the old powers are still alive in the stones of these islands.” He stepped around the bed to close the shutters, dimming the room.

Peter studied Ariadne’s sleeping face. She’d have time to get over the fever now. Demetrios had gotten word from some coastal villagers that the foreign hydrofoil had been seen heading south towards Africa. So they’d sent Georgios home with the Papa’s donkey. And apparently the Med League men who’d been through hadn’t managed to bribe the locals—their faith in Saint Ariadne and her miracles stronger than gold.

Demetrios was leaning over her, gently stroking her brow. “We’ll let her sleep.” He headed for the door. “I won’t let her up until she has more color than that bloodless saint Kyrias Kousoulas insisted on hanging on the wall.” He tilted his head toward one of those sunken-eyed grim icons over the bed.

A dark strand had fallen over Ariadne’s brow, and Peter wanted to smooth it into place. He turned and followed Demetrios out.