The Dig (22 page)

―Zoe, you‘ll die! Let go! Let go!‖

I‘m clinging to its hairy muscled back, unable to tell up from down, left from right, as it whirls and bucks with terrifying speed, and then I remember the most important thing about a Minotaur is that somewhere deep inside of it, it is part human. I had forgotten that. I have no idea if it will work, but it‘s worth a shot. I let my left hand go. I‘m hanging on by a thread now, dripping with sweat and anxiety and fear and reaching for the beast‘s armpit, missing once, missing again, grazing it but not close enough.

―Let go!‖

―Never!‖

I thrust my hand into the leathery crevice that serves as an armpit and I tickle it and the beast stumbles with confusion. It loses its balance, jerking backward, and the suddenness of the motion throws me off its back into the air. But before I hit the ground, I see Zeus charge the beast, which is flailing with confusion on its back. Zeus doesn‘t go for the jugular and he doesn‘t punch or kick it. He lassos a chain around the beast‘s neck.

―Where did you get that?‖

―In the maze. But it won‘t matter unless we find a way to tie it down.‖ I grab the other end of the chain and look around. The walls are too big. The chain is useless without an anchor.

Without a way to trap the Minotaur, we‘ll never get out alive. I‘m panicking because I know we have only seconds before it figures out the chain is untethered, that it isn‘t trapped, and I‘m so intent on finding a way to chain the beast to the wall that I don‘t realize that Zeus is on his knees, leaning over the Minotaur.

―No! Watch out!‖ I shout.

―Yes,‖ he says, yanking the nose ring from the beast‘s monstrous face.

Dark blood spills from its nostrils. I watch in amazement as the Minotaur transforms, gradually changing from a fearsome hybrid creature into a simple bull. The light of intelligence goes out of its eyes.

―What happened?‖ I ask.

―It‘s from the Petros,‖ Zeus replies, holding up the thin, luminous ring.

―It affects animals too. Changes them.‖ He hands it to me. ―But once the ring was out of its body, the Lioste canceled the effect.‖

―Well,‖ I say, pocketing the ring. ―I know it‘s really tempting to hang out in this charming, Minotaur-free maze, but, um, would you maybe wanna help find the way out of here with me?‖ He smiles. God, how I‘ve missed that smile. ―Why not?‖

I‘m different now. I don‘t know how to explain it. It‘s not just because I‘m holding hands with Zeus. I mean, that‘s part of it—I‘ve never felt so linked with someone, so connected and in step and matched—but it really begins with me. I‘m walking with a different stride. I‘m confident.

I helped defeat a four-hundred-pound beast. Nobody can ever take that away from me. I‘ve always felt like I really know who I am, but I‘ve never had a moment when what I actually do feels representative of what I know I‘m capable of doing.

And then I realize that once again we‘re standing in front of the giant iPhone door at the center of the maze.

I won‘t cry. I will not cry. This is just a misunderstanding. Boys usually shy away after they‘ve confessed a lot of feelings. At least that‘s what CeeCee says. I haven‘t thought of her in so long, and the thought of going back to all that brings me even closer to tears.

―But I don‘t want to leave you,‖ I say.

―Zoe, we‘ll always be together.‖

―That‘s a load of crap. You mean you‘ll be with Hera out of sheer convenience and I‘ll be back where I‘m from, all alone. I‘m not leaving you, Zeus. I don‘t care if I sound like some stalker and I‘m ruining everything there is between us by making myself all available and desperate. It doesn‘t matter.‖

―What matters is getting you home safely. From the moment I met you, this is what you‘ve been fighting to find.‖ I‘m pacing. I‘m trying not to look at my reflection in the giant iPhone.

This isn‘t right. None of it. We just beat the Minotaur and he wants me to hop back to my boring life without him?

Then it hits me. Why he‘s acting so resigned. He‘s trying to save me before I realize that he‘s trapped in here.

―Zeus, you can‘t get out of here, can you?‖

He shrugs.

―What were you going to do? Just let me leave and strand you here?‖

―You have a chance to escape, Zoe.‖

―I won‘t leave you,‖ I tell him.

―And I won‘t let you rot in here with me. You have to promise you‘ll save yourself,‖ he says.

I can feel the tears coming.

―
Promise
,‖ he says.

I blink away the tears, faintly nodding my head. He smiles with relief and takes my hand in his.

―Tell me about your home,‖ he says. ―What it‘s like. The future.‖

―How do you know that‘s where I‘m from?‖ I sniff.

―Hera told me.‖

―Hera has a big mouth.‖

―Is it true that in the future we gods are nothing but a myth?‖ he asks.

―People dress up like you for Halloween.‖

―What‘s Halloween?‖

Of all the things to talk about right now, I can‘t believe I‘m going to spend my last moments with Zeus explaining that kids put on costumes to go door-to-door begging for candy.

―It‘s just a holiday.‖ He smiles. ―I would love to live in a world where there are no gods.

Where nobody worships anybody.‖

―Oh, don‘t go putting it on a pedestal. People still do a lot of worshipping. They just worship humans instead of gods.‖ He looks down. I can tell that he‘s about to ask me something important. It‘s one of my favorite things about our dynamic. I never feel like I‘m waiting for my turn to talk, never feel like a springboard for his ego.―If the gods are just myths in your time,‖ he says slowly, ―what
are
the myths? How are we remembered?‖

―Okay, don‘t take this the wrong way…‖

―What?‖

―Well, you‘re, um, you‘re kind of a legendary bad guy.‖

―Me?‖

I laugh. I can‘t help it. The notion of explaining the mythical Zeus of books—the grumpy old egotistical dude with a scraggly beard and a quick thunderbolt trigger finger—to him is just too much. I temper the description a little, out of kindness, but he still shakes his head in horror.

―I‘m nothing like that! I don‘t mean to say that I‘m perfect…‖

―Because you did kiss Hera.‖

―…but I‘m not an ogre.‖

I sit down. ―Everyone changes. Maybe…maybe you‘re not there yet.‖

―And I never will be. I have eternal youth.‖

―Well, who knows? Maybe Hera kills you and rewrites history.‖ He doesn‘t laugh at that theory. He just sits down next to me. We‘re like any couple in any high school in America, leaning against a wall, killing time before we have to be apart.

And that‘s when I remember that we‘re not in America, that magical things are possible here. I pat his leg and say, ―Let‘s go.‖

―Yes, the time has come,‖ he says sadly. ―You‘re leaving.‖

―No,‖ I tell him. ―
We
are leaving. Follow me.‖

We‘ve spent hours searching the perimeter of the maze for a second door. We‘re looking everywhere—on the ground, by the ceiling.

I‘ve scoured on my hands and knees and Zeus has climbed the walls, like a ship captain searching for land.

―I don‘t know, Zoe…‖

―It‘s here. It has to be. Hera explained it all to me, the way everything comes in pairs. There is another door.‖

―But you said she‘s wrong.‖

―Well, right now I want her to be right.‖

―Zoe,‖ he says. He stops walking and shakes his head. ―There is no truth in what she says.

You taught me that. I‘ve long suspected it, but I‘ve pushed it away, in part because I‘ve felt guilty watching her try to make something between us that isn‘t there. The poor girl is exhausted from her conviction that everything is symmetrical, even, predictable.‖

―Hera just loves you, Zeus. And it‘s terrible when you love someone and they don‘t love you back—whether it‘s because they can‘t, or don‘t, it doesn‘t matter. But I like her theory. I mean, I get where she‘s coming from.

She wants to think she has a destiny and that destiny includes you.‖ He takes my hand.

He‘s not afraid that anyone will see us anymore. I know that even if all the gods were to pop up on the horizon right now, he wouldn‘t let go. He would only squeeze tighter. For some reason it makes me sad, to be coming together like this in quite possibly the most isolated place in the universe. Will anyone ever see us together? Will anyone ever know that I found someone, even if it only lasted for a few days, in another dimension?

They just might, because when we round a corner—a corner I‘d swear we‘d already covered—there it is: a second door. Because love has turned me into some airhead, I‘m squealing and clapping and jumping up and down while Zeus rushes up to the door, feeling around for the handle.

Only he‘s not clapping. He‘s not even smiling. He‘s almost crying.

―There‘s no handle.‖

―So we‘ll push.‖

―We can‘t push, Zoe. It doesn‘t work that way.‖

―Well, we can try.‖

―Don‘t you see? This is the moment I was trying to avoid. I‘m nothing without the Petros.

And this ring isn‘t enough to counter the Lioste from the maze. We‘re trapped.‖

―Forget the Petros.‖

―Forget the Petros? Oh sure. The source of all my power.‖

―Listen,‖ I tell him, ―I have made it seventeen years on my own. My parents died when I was eight. I was shipped off to boarding school where I didn‘t fit in. I‘ve struggled my whole life to find my way in the world.

Whatever power I‘ve got, it comes from within. And you‘re no different.

The greatest power you have, god or man, is not in the stupid Petros. It‘s in you. So do something with it already.‖

―Like what?‖

―Like accept the fact that we might die but we‘re here now, right here, together, just me and you and—‖

But I don‘t get to finish what I‘m saying because he rushes at me and my lips part and his chest heaves into mine and his arms take me, all of me, and he smiles and then, at last, at long last, the kiss.

And there‘s no room for thought. There‘s just warmth and eternity and the way his hands hold my back, the right kind of hold, both of us moving toward each other at lightning speed, yet there‘s a slowness to it all, as if we both want to stay here forever. I never understood that Aerosmith song about not wanting to miss a thing. Though I‘ve wanted to feel it, though I‘ve hoped that I might someday, I‘ve never really truly believed that life could ever match the potency of Norah Jones when she sings, ―Come Away With Me.‖
This isn‘t a kiss; this is
the
kiss. This is the Klimt painting and the black-and-white photo of that soldier back from the war embracing his beloved in Times Square, and I‘m part of it now, we‘re part of it now, and nothing else could or will ever matter again.

Until the walls crackle. It‘s the noise that breaks us apart. I have a feeling neither one of us ever would have noticed the light shining on us.

The door has cracked open and sunlight blasts into the maze. I could tell him that I was right; there‘s a power greater than the Petros. But I don‘t need to tell him. His smile tells me that he knows.

We‘re free. Our love set us free, because we let it, because we grabbed it, because love is more powerful than anything, even the gods.

Love Is A Battlefield

From the moment we step out of the labyrinth, everything is different.

Nothing can go wrong anymore. The labyrinth deposits us within sight of the vale of the nymphs, which is the first good omen. Blinking to adjust to the bright daylight, I realize that my skin is starved for the sun. Something I hadn‘t even noticed while underground, so happy was I kissing Zeus. I imagine that‘s all we‘ll do together for the rest of our lives now, but Zeus has other wants.

―I‘m starving.‖

Sigh.
Men
.

―Well, my backpack is empty,‖ I tell him.

―We could go to town. We have to go by there anyway to reach the temple and get you home.‖

Home
.
I almost forgot. I don‘t want to think about it. We only just kissed; I can‘t imagine leaving.

Distract him. I change the subject and go a little mommy on him because I‘ve always read that boys hate that. ―We
could
go to town, but would that be safe for you?‖

―You take down one Minotaur and suddenly you‘re worried about me,‖ he says.

Girly now, like a cheerleader (who knew I was so good at this game?).

―Oh, come on, Zeus. You know what I mean.‖ He smiles. ―If we stick together, I think we‘ll be okay.‖ It feels like butterflies live in my stomach now. Delicate, dancing, candy-colored butterflies.

―Zoe!‖

Apparently we‘re both still a bit scarred from the Minotaur, because the sound of another creature in our midst startles us. Zeus yelps and I crouch in a bad attempt at hiding. You can imagine how silly we both feel when we hear laughing and look up in the tree. Sitting on a branch is Creusa.

―You‘re alive!‖ she squeals, hopping onto the grass.

I run to my little frail friend and hug her. How strange to have a reunion. How strange to think of someone I met less than a week ago as a long-lost friend. I haven‘t just traveled through time; I‘ve lost all sense of time, its meaning, its weight. The few hours I‘ve spent with Creusa could be a few years. ―Creusa,‖ I say. ―I‘d like you to meet my boyfriend: Zeus.‖ He doesn‘t beam and confirm that I‘m his girlfriend—and oh god, I shouldn‘t have said that. What‘s wrong with you, Zoe? One kiss, okay, one
great
kiss, but still, you can‘t go around calling some guy your boyfriend after one kiss.

―I didn‘t, um, I didn‘t mean ‗boyfriend.‘ I meant he‘s a boy. And he‘s my friend.‖

I must sound even stupider than I feel because Zeus and Creusa are both laughing now and I‘m too afraid to say anything else idiotic so I just stand there squirming.

Zeus extends a hand to Creusa, but she bows and flutters excitedly.

―Please,‖ he says. ―You don‘t have to do that.‖ Creusa looks at me and I nod and Creusa stands and reverts back to her normal spunky self. ―Well, Zeus,‖ she says, ―I, for one, think you seem quite content with your new friend. Who is a girl. And a friend. But not a girlfriend.‖