Minotaur by Phillip W. Simpson Page A

over. Despite my grogginess, I felt a little guilty. Because of me, Androgeus would not be able to compete this year.
    “I’m … I’m sorry,” I slurred, gripping Androgeus’s shoulder. “You didn’t get your go.”
    He patted me on the back and smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it, little brother. How could I possibly have competed with your performance anyway? Hard act to follow.”
    The journey was a blur. I don’t remember arriving back, only that suddenly I was sitting down with Phaedra. She was dressing the wound on my palm. We were in her bedchamber. Androgeus stood at the window, gazing out at the ocean, his face blank. It was dusk. I felt weak, nauseous. My stomach was churning.
    “Are you all right?” asked Phaedra. I could tell she was worried. “You’ve turned white.”
    I wasn’t feeling well at all. Something was wrong. My palm was throbbing. Through the pain, a thought occurred. Had Minos poisoned me? Would he do such a thing? I knew with sudden certainty that he would. It wasn’t enough to uncover the bull’s horns. He had to make certain that I died.
    “I don’t feel so good.”
    Phaedra and Androgeus helped me lie down on a couch.
    “I think he’s been poisoned,” said Phaedra. She knew me. Knew how strong I was. Something was very wrong when a slight scratch could have this effect on me.
    Androgeus looked frightened for a moment and then nodded his head ever so slightly. “We have to send for a healer.”
    “No,” said Phaedra. “The healers will do our father’s bidding. They will probably let Asterion die or even poison him again. Now that Father has tried once, he’s got nothing to lose by finishing the job he started.”
    “Well, what then?” asked Androgeus impatiently.
    “We’ll send for Daedalus. He’ll know what to do.”
    Androgeus ran off to summon the master craftsman while Phaedra stayed at my side. Catreus and Deucalion arrived, crouching next to me, offering whatever support they could. Of Ariadne and Glaucus, there was no sign. For that at least, I was grateful. The last thing I wanted was for them to laugh at me.
    Daedalus bustled into the room, already briefed by Androgeus. He examined me closely, even going so far as to unravel the bandage Phaedra had wrapped around my palm, sniffing the injury. He opened the wound and placed a gentle finger inside, tasting what he found there.
    “I don’t know,” he confessed. “I think it could be nerium, but I’m not sure. I’ve seen similar effects before. There’s not much I can do. Keep the arm down so that the poison doesn’t travel to his heart.”
    Phaedra did what he asked and Daedalus applied a compression bandage to my lower arm. “That’s all I can do for him. We’ll just have to hope his natural strength can overcome it.”
    “You have our thanks, Daedalus,” said Androgeus. “When I am King, you will be richly rewarded. This will not be forgotten.”
    “Certainly not by the current King,” replied Daedalus drily. “If he finds out I’ve helped, that is.”
    “He will not find out through us,” said Phaedra, trying to reassure him. “But make sure you are not found here. Go. Now!”
    “In a moment,” said Daedalus. “I may be of more assistance to you yet.”
    “Asterion can’t stay here,” said Androgeus. “Our father will find him, and if he does … .”
    “I know where we can take him,” said Daedalus.
    And indeed he did. A place where even Minos couldn’t find me. A place I didn’t know existed.

Chapter 7
     
     
    It took me two full days to recover, covered in sweat, passing in and out of consciousness. Not that I was aware of the passage of time. Androgeus told me later that Phaedra stayed at my side for much of that time. It seemed that my part-god constitution was a match for the poison employed by Minos.
    Under the cover of darkness, Daedalus had me taken to his workshop outside the palace, carried by my brothers and Phaedra. Unknown to any of us, Daedalus had