The Door in the Mountain by Caitlin Sweet

Author:Caitlin Sweet [Sweet, Caitlin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Legends; Myths; Fables, Greek & Roman
ISBN: 9781771481922
Google: iYvHAQAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00UWCXL0C
Publisher: ChiTeen
Published: 2014-05-19T18:30:00+00:00

Phaidra was waiting for Chara and Icarus at the eastern gate. When they reached her, she tipped her pale, pretty face up to Chara and said, “You’re in trouble. My sister’s been looking for you since she woke up. The whole palace knows it.”

Chara turned to Icarus. “Go, before she sees you. You could still—”

“Oh, she’s seen you.” Phaidra gestured behind her at the steps. She was gazing at Icarus. “She’s been up on the third storey, watching for you. I ran, to reach you first. To warn you.”

Chara heard Icarus sigh. “Another time when wings would be very useful,” he said in his pebbly voice, and then Ariadne was above them, framed between the shadows of the gate’s horns. She paused. Chara couldn’t see her eyes.

When she reached them, she didn’t speak. Her hair was full of pins whose ends jutted out at odd angles. Because I wasn’t there to put them in for her. Chara felt a stab of something made of both pity and amusement, and her stomach twisted.

Icarus bobbed on the balls of his feet. Phaidra looked from him to Ariadne, her mouth a little open. Chara wanted to lift a hand and pat at her own hair, which she knew was even more matted than usual, and probably smelled of damp moss, but she kept her arms at her side.

“Come,” the princess said at last. The word was flat and quiet.

They followed her into the palace, as people glanced and whispered, and down to a small storeroom that held only a low table, a chest and a glowing brazier. The room seemed even smaller when they were all standing in it.

Ariadne leaned against one of the doorway’s columns. “Where have you been?”

I could lie, Chara thought, and felt even more sick. I should. “Looking for Asterion,” she said. Beside her, Icarus stiffened.

Ariadne’s mouth sagged open for a moment before she snapped it shut. She pushed away from the column as gracefully as if she had been dancing.

“Looking for Asterion,” the princess said. The spaces between her words seemed to echo more loudly than the words did.

“Indeed, yes,” said Chara, as Icarus hunched forward and pressed his pointy chin to his chest. “I could repeat myself, if you wish.”

She could no longer feel the sickness in her belly because her chest was burning. She imagined her breath emerging as hot and bright as Minos’s; imagined it falling on her skin and searing bright pink welts like Asterion’s into it. Then she thought, No, Freckles: you’re not godmarked—just foolish.

Ariadne paced to the doorway. “Icarus—” she began, turning.

Chara said, “I made him come with me. He said no at first, but I begged him to.” She glanced at him. He cocked his head and met her gaze. His thin lips parted and pressed together again.

“Well, then, girl: only you will be punished.” Ariadne walked back to them. She ran a finger along Icarus’s cheekbone and down to his jaw. Even though she wasn’t touching him, Chara felt his shiver; it stirred the air between them like a wave beneath water.

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