Page 92 of This Divine Revelry

The doors swing so aggressively they collide with the walls.

‘Arrest him,’ my brother demands, and guards tear Theseus from me before he can so much as blink.

‘If you think this is not war …’ Theseus begins, angrier than I’ve ever seen him as he thrashes in their grip.

‘Deucalion,’ my father warns. ‘What is it –’

‘Plans to free the prisoners from the labyrinth,’ he says, tossing the pages we forged to the floor, and Theseus struggles even harder. I step away, behind my brother, knowing now that if he gets free even for a moment he’ll use it to kill me. ‘Missives detailing plots to abduct the princesses and use their blood to open the doors. And a jar of poisoned honey, intended to kill Prince Glaucus.’

Everyone falls silent, turning to Theseus like there might be any sort of alternative explanation. Even now, I underestimate him. I conceive of plots that are nowhere near as awful as what he is truly planning.

‘He’s ten,’ I say, aghast.

‘I did no such thing,’ Theseus snarls, glaring at my father. ‘Unlike Crete, we do not imprison children in labyrinths and we don’t plot to kill them either.’

Deucalion snorts his disagreement. ‘He means to murder us both, secure Phaedra’s hand and thus position himself in line for the Cretan throne. He desires an Athenian empire – and Crete the jewel within it.’

‘Deucalion,’ my father says, quite calmly, ‘round up every man the King of Athens brought with him here. I want their bodies strung along the walls.’ His glower cuts to me. ‘Leave a cage spare.’

My mother grabs my brother’s wrist. ‘Don’t,’ she implores, but he shakes her off and stalks from the room.

‘You will regret this,’ Theseus growls.

‘I don’t believe I will,’ Father says. ‘Release him.’

What?

The guards look to each other with just as much uncertainty but let go of Theseus, who stands panting, staring at my father with apprehension.

‘You’re going back to Athens, alone. You will tell your people what you failed to achieve here. And I’m going to look through those marriage offers and I’m going to choose whichever one of those men has the biggest navy, and I’m going to come for you, with swords drawn, just as I did eighteen years ago, and you are going to die, Theseus, not a guest of my house or a serpent within it but a foe with a blade in hand.’

Theseus spits at my father’s feet, stalking to the door – not in a hurry, not like he’s going to try to rescue his men but like an opponent in a duel. He sneers as he passes me and I can’t resist the small satisfied smile that twitches into place.

And then his fury breaks.

His hand flies out. There is a sharp yank at the base of my skull as my hair twists in his hand. I am flung to the floor, hitting it hard, and then he is on top of me, his hands at my throat.

‘I should have done this last time,’ he hisses. ‘Maybe I’ll get your blood for that labyrinth after all.’

‘Unhand her!’ my mother snarls. ‘Guards! Stop him!’

‘No!’ my father overrules. ‘Let the legend tell how he murdered her – it’s a far cleaner end than the truth of her debauchery.’

Theseus is fumbling for his dagger. It’s not there – of course, I took it. But it’s trapped by his knees straddling my hips, my hand crushed beneath, and as soon as he realizes … as soon as he knows where it is …

Phaedra pulls at Theseus’s shoulders. ‘Father, please!’ But she might as well be one of those spectres flitting through these halls for all that either of them pay attention to her.

I manage to slam my head up, colliding with his nose, but it only seems to throw him into further frenzy, abandoning his quest for the dagger, instead ripping off his cloak pin and thrusting its tip into my throat.

I scream – and something within me screams too, howling furious pain, and walls spring up around me – and suddenly I’m standing, Theseus across from me in the deep, dark pit of the labyrinth.

His brow furrows. ‘What is this?’

The vision collapses, the walls tumbling away, and Theseus is on top of me, pin dug into my skin but not deep – not deep because I flung him into whatever vision that was.

‘I am queen of this kingdom,’ my mother snarls. ‘Daughter of the sun god, sister of the greatest witch the world has ever known and mother to the greatest there ever will be, so I strongly suggest you listen to me.’ And then, finally, Theseus – who seems every bit as disoriented as I am – is pulled from me.

He staggers, then pulls himself together enough to stumble from the room – pin clutched tight. My blood staining it.