The Dig (21 page)

What if there is no door? What then? I‘m running so fast that I forget that I‘m on top of a labyrinth and I look down just in time to save myself from running off the edge. I brake and take a deep breath, and then I leap across the gap and land safely on the other side. Scrambling to maintain my balance I keep sprinting along the top of the wall, following the guidance of the compass. But I have to slow down each time I have to jump, and the Minotaur is gaining on me, and I need to go left in order to go straight, and then I‘m careening right to avoid another dead end, and I must have misread the compass because now it says I am supposed to turn right,
again
, but that would mean I‘ve started backtracking, and I‘m about to lose it, I can feel the tears coming and I can smell the Minotaur getting closer…

And then I see it. Hera was telling the truth. There
is
a door.

For a second I wonder if it will even work. After all, she didn‘t mention anything about the Minotaur. But there is no other option, it simply has to work, and I jump down from the top of the wall and I‘m there, I‘m right there in front of it, facing the doorway to my life, to the present, to the dig.

I reach into my pocket for the obolus and I locate the circular indentation on the door, where the coin fits perfectly. I can go now. I
should
go now.

But I hesitate, and it‘s a good thing that I do, because the next thing I hear is my name being called out.

―Zoe!‖

It‘s Zeus. He‘s here. In the maze.

He‘s come for me.

I don‘t answer him. I think of him and I see it all again: the way Hera took his face in her hands, brought her lips to his. He doesn‘t love you, Zoe. He was just being nice. You‘re number thirteen, remember? You‘re not supposed to be here. You never were. He kissed
her
, not you.

Would he have kissed her back if he didn‘t love her?

―Zoe!‖ he calls again, and the Minotaur stops chasing me and roars with bloodlust. It turns and takes off after the sound of Zeus‘s voice.

What if the Minotaur kills him? It would be all my fault. I can‘t let him die. Whether he loves me or not, I have to save him.

I start running back through the labyrinth, trying to get to Zeus before the Minotaur reaches him. It‘s a desperate sprint and I‘m running into walls and doubling back out of corridors and suddenly he‘s not responding to my calls anymore; it‘s like I‘m in some darker version of
Titanic
where Jack doesn‘t call back to Rose, where I just run, blindly, through a dark and deadly maze.

I hear a roar of triumph and my heart skips a beat. If I don‘t find him now, he‘ll be gone forever and then I‘ll never have the chance to tell him how I felt the first time we met, how I felt when I heard him defending me to his friends, how it felt when I was in his arms, soaring to safety, to unknown places in the sky.

―Zeus!‖

―Zoe.‖

His answer is all I need and I run faster than I ever knew I could and then I‘m there, beside him again. Only he isn‘t the god I‘ve known. His wings have wilted and shrunk. They flap listlessly, dangling at his back.

―You‘re here,‖ I say.

―I couldn‘t let you go.‖

My arms quiver. How badly I want to hug him, to hold him. But then I think of Hera and my arms fall to my side.

―I can‘t stay in Olympus,‖ I say.

―Yes you can.‖

―There‘s nothing for me here.‖

―I‘m here.‖

―So is Hera.‖

He takes my hands. I look down at our interlocked fingers and he squeezes and I look up at him and he speaks, softly, firmly, ―It‘s over.‖

―How can it be over?‖

―Because of you.‖

―But I saw you, Zeus. I saw you kissing her.‖ He lets go of me and for a moment I‘m scared that he‘s letting go of me in more ways than one. ―Zoe, I was kissing her because I had just ended it and she was upset.‖

―And you seal the end with a kiss?‖

―She was desperate.‖

―She almost killed me.‖

―Forget about her.‖

―She sicked that beast on me.‖

―She also told you about the door.‖

I throw my hands in the air. Boys are infuriating. I‘m reminded of why I stayed away from them for so long.

―Zoe, please just listen to me. Hera doesn‘t matter anymore. This is about us. I came here to find you because
you’re
what matters. Why is it so hard for you to believe that I‘m infatuated with you?‖ I can‘t believe this. Zeus is telling me he‘s infatuated with me. It‘s really possible. It‘s not a daydream and it‘s not just me trying to convince myself that I like someone who I don‘t like. At last, my heart is open.

And I‘m probably about to die. Him too, for that matter.

―You know,‖ he says, ―now might be a good time for you to say that you like me too.‖

―Oh, come on. Look at you. You probably assumed I liked you the second I laid eyes on you.‖

He shakes his head. ―You really don‘t see how wonderful you are. Do you?‖

I don‘t. I‘m afraid to. I‘m more afraid of Zeus‘s intensity than the Minotaur, which is still raging somewhere in the maze, hunting for us. I desperately want to change. I want to be brave.

―Well, I‘m not so wonderful that you didn‘t want just one last kiss with Hera.‖

―I‘ve known Hera for hundreds of years, Zoe. Do you have any idea what it‘s been like for us?‖

―You‘re not going to tell me how hard it is to be beautiful and powerful, are you?‖

―I don‘t know why you want to pretend that you‘re bitter. I see you, Zoe. And I know you‘re not really like that. You‘re too smart for that. You have too much to give.‖

There is the sound of enraged impact as the Minotaur hits a nearby wall. It‘s still coming after us. It will never stop trying to kill us. And Zeus is right. There‘s a part of me that‘s no different from a bloodthirsty, yellow-eyed Minotaur. There‘s a rabid part of me that wants to keep everyone at a distance, everything good; there‘s a fear that if I let it in, it might go away.

―You‘ve only known me a few days.‖

―Well, let me tell you what I‘ve seen. I‘ve seen someone special, a survivor, someone who‘s had it rough on her own but can still laugh and have fun and find the good in life.‖

―Like rabid Minotaurs?‖

He shakes his head.

―Zoe,‖ he says, ―you‘ve had it rough, I understand. But I‘m standing here, telling you that you don‘t always have to be alone. Not anymore. Let me in, Zoe. Please.‖

He means it. I know it because my shoulders have relaxed. I know it because there are tears in my eyes and I‘m not trying to cover them up. I know it because he hasn‘t looked away from me since he stopped talking.

And then, just when my life is about to begin, the Minotaur arrives.

Zeus leans forward and whispers, ―On three, Zoe.‖ But before he can count to one, the Minotaur lunges for us. One of its claws catches my pants as I fling myself backward with a scream, and Zeus grabs my hand and we take off together, racing down the dark corridor hand in hand. My pant leg has been ripped in half and flaps as we run through the maze, sprinting without destination. And already I‘m getting tired and there‘s no way out and we‘re going to die before we get to kiss and I‘m stumbling to keep up with Zeus and the Minotaur roars again and I‘m losing it and I snap, ―Why can‘t you use your powers?‖

―The labyrinth, Zoe. It‘s made of Lioste.‖

―I don‘t care if it‘s made of strawberry shortcake. We‘re gonna die!‖

―You don‘t understand. Lioste negates the Petros. My powers are nothing without the Petros.‖

I tug his hand and he stops. ―Up there,‖ I whisper, and we climb up and then we‘re on top of the wall, scrambling to flatten ourselves out. We face each other, flat on our bellies, as the Minotaur creeps, sniffing, sensing it won‘t be long now, won‘t be long at all.

―But
you
still have power, Zoe,‖ he whispers. ―Use your powers.‖

―I can‘t.‖

―This is no time to be shy about your powers.‖

―I‘m not
shy
,‖ I whisper. Moving as quietly as possible, I reach into my pocket and pull out the obolus.

I can see it in his eyes. He knows. There is nothing to say, nothing to do. The Minotaur approaches, sniffing along the base of the wall. We hold our breath, trying not to make a sound.

But it‘s too late. The Minotaur has seen us.

I feel the horn strike the top of the wall before I see it, and then we‘re falling through the air, wild and helpless. Zeus disappears over one side and I land on the other.

Alone.

At the Minotaur‘s feet.

Although it looks like an animal, the Minotaur has the instincts of a human. This I know because I am curled into a ball on the ground and it could kill me right now. But it doesn‘t. Like a stalker in a horror movie, it stands over me, drooling. It wants to see me suffer. It wants to see me quake with fear. I wish it were an animal, because then I wouldn‘t have to wait like this, tortured by the knowledge that I‘m about to be eaten alive.

I hear Zeus running along the opposite side of the wall, but there‘s no way he can make it back here in time. I hear his frustration, the way he pounds at the wall and calls for me. Now I‘m the one who can‘t answer.

I can‘t breathe or speak or move. I can only stare. I can dream of being rescued. In my fantasy, Zeus appears, a single finger at his lips,
sssh
,
and just as the Minotaur goes in for the kill, Zeus slices it in half with a lightning bolt. And in reality, I know that I am again being tested.

I see now that life is a test and that Zeus was right; I am afraid of letting in the good. I do expect the worst and I do hide from joy but I have a chance now. I can make my own dream come true.

I look beyond the Minotaur and gasp, pretending to see something, and fake a big smile of relief. The Minotaur turns around to see what‘s behind it and that‘s all the diversion I need. I‘m up and on the run again.

The Minotaur growls, realizing it‘s been duped, and then it‘ s chasing me, and Zeus is chasing the Minotaur, and it feels like we could go on like this forever. Every time I start to flag, I hear that roar and I smell the violence and I‘m moving again.

And then, suddenly, I stop.

I don‘t know what I‘m doing. It‘s as if my feet decide for me. I can‘t outrun the Minotaur and I won‘t run myself into the ground trying.

Something inside me takes over and my legs lock and I turn and stand and wait. It is better to die fighting than running. It is better to die because I was trying to live. I don‘t want to escape anymore. I want to attack.

Stomp.

Stomp.

I can hear the Minotaur closing in. Hesitation seizes me. What was I thinking? I should start running before it‘s too late. You can‘t beat a monster like this, not without powers. No, that‘s not the way to think, Zoe. There has to be a way. I lower my body to the floor and lie flat, pretending that I‘ve fainted, given up. I can feel every hair on my body rising. I can feel my eyelashes fluttering as I desperately plead with them to be still. My leg is exposed where my pants are torn and I can feel the heat of the maze prickling the scraped skin. My mouth is close to the dirt floor, and when I exhale, dust rustles. In my heightened state of anticipation, it seems as loud as a nor‘easter bashing at the rickety windows in my old room at Greeley.

Stomp.

Stomp.

I hear the Minotaur round the corner. It can see me now. It slows down but doesn‘t approach. The Minotaur is no fool. It‘s not going to run up to me and kneel over my body, stupidly exposing itself to an attack. This isn‘t a horror movie, and playing dead was a very bad idea, Zoe, your very last bad idea.

Stomp.

Stomp.

It‘s too late. I won‘t cry. I won‘t try to run. Not that I could now, anyway. The Minotaur is too close. And each approaching step shocks the ground and vibrates my ears. Its heavy feet seem to rattle the whole floor of this maze. If I had my powers, it would be so easy. I‘d split the ground apart. He‘d be swallowed up in an instant. I try again to use them, out of desperation, concentrating as hard as I can, but nothing happens. The powers were the best thing that ever happened to me; they saved me. And the powers were the worst thing that ever happened to me; they spoiled me.

Stomp.

I‘m starting to hallucinate because my eyes have been closed for so long, because the darkness is too dark and the nearness to death is too real, realer than it‘s ever been. A drop of Minotaur saliva lands with a plop on my shirt. Don‘t flinch, Zoe. Even though you‘re officially about to become a meal, you must not flinch. It‘s lowering its head. I can hear it more clearly.

Its breath is loud and hot. It‘s here. There‘s no way out now. There are no more stomps to be heard; the only sound is my heart, beating so fast it might give me away. I don‘t open my eyes to see what happens. I just kick.

As hard as I can.

The Minotaur squawks and I shove off the ground and I‘m up and I kick it again, even harder this time, but it just rocks back and looks at me.

I was silly to think that one kick would knock it down, and insane to think that two kicks might do it in.

―Zoe!‖

Zeus races around the corner and charges at the Minotaur. The creature spins and Zeus hurls himself at it, yelling, ―Run, Zoe!‖

―No!‖

I won‘t leave him. I‘ll never leave him. The Minotaur has its back to me now, and it‘s so wide I can‘t see what‘s happening on the other side. Is Zeus punching it or is it punching Zeus, pounding him into the ground? I kick again but the Minotaur doesn‘t even seem to notice. My feet have never felt so weak and I wish this were a battle of the psyches, a battle of wills. It seems unfair that it could all be so purely, lamely physical. And then Zeus spins away, knocked to the ground.

The way the Minotaur is moving now I can see that it is fed up with our scrappy ways and will do whatever it takes to kill us quickly; it is plowing toward Zeus with its horns down, ready to impale him, and before I know what I‘m doing, I jump onto its back.

I hold on tight as it spins in circles, roaring, trying to shake me off, but I won‘t let go, no matter how hard Zeus pleads with me.