Keepers of the Labyrinth (27 page)

48

T
he moon dipped into the windows of Melios Manor and lit the white patches between stones with little blue rivers. It was long past midnight as Lil, Sydney, Charlie and Kat made their way back to their own dormitories.

“I wonder if we'll wake up in the morning and it will all have been a dream,” Kat said as they reached Hall D and made their way to their doors.

“I hope not,” Lil said, clutching the pendant at her neck.

“But if not, what do you suppose is next?” Charlie said.

“I don't know,” Lil said, “but whatever it is, we'll do it together.”

Lil slid her key into the lock.

“You guys want to meet for breakfast?” Sydney said as she pushed her door open.

Charlie and Kat nodded.

“Yeah,” Lil said. “What time?”

“Seven,” Sydney said. And then, “Let's meet at six forty-five just to be safe.”

“Six forty-five,” Lil agreed.

“Boa noite,”
Kat said.

“Bonne nuit,”
Charlie and Sydney said together.

“Night,” Lil said, stepping into her dark room. She placed her candle down on the bureau. It wasn't until she reached down to pull her sneakers from her feet that she saw something had been slipped under her door. She crouched to it and lowered her candle. Her breath caught in her throat. She picked up the folder.
H
elene Bennette,
the tab said. Lil clutched the file in her hand and looked out the door and down the hallway. It was empty. Everyone had filtered into their rooms. Who had dropped it off, she wondered, if all the counselors were in the antechamber?

Lil slid her door closed and took the file and her candle to her bed. She placed the candle on the bedside table and flipped the folder open. Her robe splayed out around her as she sat on the soft mattress. There she stared down at the torn-out pages of her mother's journal. She traced the rough edge as her eyes raced over the words.

Ariadne 399,

Th
e Zephylites have a
new leader, and he s
eems to be more info
rmed than any before
him. His name is He
rbert Peskins, but h
e has been ordained
among the Zephylites
as Ares. He is an i
nformation analyst a
t Rockview Military
Systems and teaches
weekend classes at N
YTI. Because of a la
ck of time, I am enc
losing his full file
.

He is here, believ
ing he goes undetect
ed in my shadow. But
do not fear. He wil
l not extract inform
ation on the Icarus
Folio. I have alread
y provided for its s
ecurity and moved it
from the nebulous c
hamber. It rests in
location 3546, just
as Daedalus would ha
ve wanted.

Along wit
h this note, I send
you my virtue, in ca
se what I fear may h
appen tonight does i
ndeed occur. If I am
found and tortured,
you will have this
symbol to pass on to
my successor. My P.
E.T. is en route as
well.

As
always,
min
zeis aplos. Zeis to
lmira.

Ariadne 400

Lil's mind raced and her eyes welled with tears. The Icarus Folio had existed. Mom had moved it. Lil reread the letter again and again. These were her mother's final words. Written in a shaking hand. How close had they been when she wrote it? Lil clutched at the virtue around her neck. Athenia's words filled her ears. “May you always stay to the path of the bold and never fall to retribution.”

She read the name over.
Ares.

“Never fall to retribution,” Lil said, but her thumb circled the back of the disk, feeling the shape of the spiral under her thumb. Around and around and around it went.

She wondered if protection would sometimes be the same as retribution. The Cretan wind dipped in the open window, huffed at the candle flame, bending it back against the wick. Lil reached for it, but despite her best efforts, the flame sizzled and drowned in the wax. Plunging the room into darkness.

Acknowledgments

T
here are so many people to thank for helping, encouraging, inspiring and supporting the writing of this novel.

Thank you to the professors who so willingly answered my random, and often confusing, e-mails. Professor Curtis Runnels at Boston University, thanks for the resource list that laid the groundwork for this story. You have no idea how the e-mails back and forth and the additional reading sparked my imagination and fueled this journey. Thanks to Professor Martin Uman for the note on lightning. It greatly helped me envision the trick of volcanic ash. Thanks to Dr. Sarah Ekdawi for your help with the Greek and Ancient Greek translations. And, of course, for the key phrase:
Do not just liv
e. Live boldly.
May it be so. Thank you to Stahl, who handed me the right poem at the right time. “There is a thread that you follow . . .”

Crete is an absolutely beautiful place. The setting of Melios Manor is inspired by Milia Mountain Retreat. Thank you to Giorgos Makrakis and Iakovos Tsourounakis for building it, and thank you to Tasos Gourgouras for hosting us, feeding us delicious food and sending me the information on the Nikos Psilakis cookbooks so that I could have a little taste of Crete when I returned home. Thank you also to Costas Dritsas, who hosted us when we visited the eastern side of the island, and for teaching us about the olives and olive oil.

Thank you to my Unreliable Narrators for all your support through the weeks, months and years of our lives. Especially, Trinity Peacock Broyles, Katie Mather, Tamara Ellis Smith, Kelly Bennett, Jennifer Wolf Kam, Sarah Wones Tomp, Sharry Phelan Wright, Kerry Castano and Cindy Faughnan. You are the best writing sisters a girl could ask for.

Thank you to my amazing literary agent, Joan Paquette. I'm lucky to have you in my corner. And thanks also to the Gangos near and far. And to the wonderful Vermont College of Fine Arts community, from where so much of my inspiration springs.

Thank you to Ginger Johnson and Jessica Dainty Johns for writing days. You are two of the most gifted and dedicated writers I have known.

Thank you to my friends at the Derry Public Library who put up with me while writing this novel and hashed things out with me, especially Susan Brown, Sherry Bailey, Eric Stern, Meryle Zusman, Jessica Drouin and Evan Bush. Also, thanks to my DPL teen writers group, who listened to and gave input on the opening pages. You are all brilliant.

Thanks so much to my super editor, Jill Santopolo. Your patience, support, patience, guiding questions and patience are beyond compare. I hope, although doubt, you had as much fun with this as I did! Thank you also to the amazing team at Philomel, who made the whole package come together. Especially Talia Benamy for the input along the way and the finishing touches.

A special thanks to my longtime friends Kim, Tris and Sam for brainstorming this manuscript on girls' weekend—and for encouraging me.

Thanks so much to my family. To Casey, Moie and Ambs for your brains, brawn and beauty. I catch glimpses of you in all my stories. Thanks to Mom for leading the way. I think the motto of the story may be yours more than the rest of ours. And to Pa for checking in and finding useful historical tidbits that inspired the manuscript on several fronts. Especially for the indomitable LILITH.

Thank you to my sweet baby boy, Tucker, who listened to the whole darn thing over and over again. I only assume that is why you wouldn't flip over. You can't hear as well the other way around.

And thank you, most of all, to my husband, Jason—my love, my high school prom date, my forever best friend—for supporting me along the way. You're the best.

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