JUST THE SITE of the Greek villa, its cream-colored walls bathed in the deep, orange hues of sunset, put Helen at ease. It was almost like coming home except it was better–way better. As the taxi climbed the long driveway, lined with olive trees as thick as oaks, Helen leaned her head through the open window and deeply inhaled.

What a beautiful scent.

It had always reminded her of sweet grass, just after it’d been cut. The ripe fruit would fall and be crushed by passing cars as they approached the entrance to the grand estate. As the wrought iron gate passed by, Helen smiled and immediately looked toward the front door.

But Edith wasn’t there.

Where is she?

As the taxi pulled around the circle, Helen glanced around the courtyard. No Edith. She scowled a little as the taxi came to a halt. Edith always met her here. From her perch up in the highest room of the east tower, Edith would see the taxi from a mile away.

What’s going on?

As Helen took her wallet from the purse and counted out her fare and a tip, she glanced back at the ornate and massive wooden doors, still closed.

Maybe it has something to do with Edith’s cryptic email.

The driver unloaded her bags from the trunk and set them in the terra cotta portico.

“Efharistó,” Helen said. ‘Thank you.’ One of the few things she knew in Greek.

“Parakaló,” said the older man as he took the money with a smile.

Finally, behind her, she heard a familiar voice.

“There you are!” said Edith.

• • • • •

From his room in the east tower, Dimitri watched Edith embrace the exquisite creature who had emerged from the taxi. His fingers stopped buttoning his shirt as he looked down at her–a statuesque brunette. Her unadorned dress flowed around her: burgundy, sleeveless, the hem ending just above the knee. At this distance there were hardly any details but the clinging material made her curved figure quite clear. Nor could he see her face. She tossed her head a little to move her hair out of the way before she shouldered her purse. Then she tugged her luggage behind her, walking side by side with Edith, their arms around each other’s waists as they approached the front door. Then they were gone.

Interesting, thought Dimitri as he turned away and finished buttoning his shirt. Very interesting.

Edith had said she wanted him to meet someone. He’d thought it’d be someone linked with the site. Another archaeologist perhaps or a classicist, like himself. But now the little twinkle in Edith’s eye made more sense. She’d been downright evasive, even after he’d agreed on a day and time. At first he’d thought she was being purposely enigmatic, knowing how he loved puzzles.

He thought back to the shapely calf and thigh that had emerged from the taxi door. And then of how Edith and her guest had held on to each other.

No, something more was going on.

As he strode to the dresser, he glanced at the fresco above it. It was a copy from Knossos, the famous Minoan palace, not twenty kilometers away. The entire villa was styled after it, from the stonework to the pillared courtyards and, of course, the legendary artwork.

He gazed at the three bare-chested court ladies, their richly textured bodices open, their headbands capturing long, dark, waves of hair, though some of the tresses had escaped. Set against the aqua of the background, their skin was almost blindingly white, their incredibly narrow waists highlighted against the bright blue. Delicate, beaded jewelry decorated their full hairstyles, was draped around their necks, and accentuated their bent wrists. Only the dark points of their nipples and the outlines of their torsos suggested the presence of round breasts that had otherwise not been detailed.

Dimitri quickly ran a brush through his still damp hair and then scooped up the cufflinks. The dinner smells from the kitchen had just begun to waft up from below and his stomach growled. But as he grabbed his jacket from the bed and headed to the door, he found it wasn’t just food that interested him.

• • • • •

A private dinner party, thought Karl. And I’m not invited.

As he trundled past the door that lead to the east terrace, he couldn’t help but glance again. A small, round table was laid with white linen, china and crystal, and a bottle of wine was open and waiting. There were three chairs and Edith and Helen were standing nearby, engrossed in conversation.

In moments they were out of view as Karl headed to the main dining hall. He’d be having dinner with the rest of the crew, as usual. He idly wondered if they’d be having a different meal than the one being served on the terrace. He patted his bloated stomach. The food at the Petros Villa was outstanding but there’d almost certainly be no wine and he had to frown at that.

By the time he got to the table about a dozen of the crew were already seated and eating. Dinner was the one meal they all shared and sometimes the only time they saw one another. Students and permanent staff members from all types of disciplines gathered around the long table every night–something that had been happening at archaeology sites around Crete for centuries. Although the palace at Knossos was famous, the excavations at their site of Gortyn were equally fascinating.

Karl passed Edith’s seat at the head of the table and proceeded down to his, opposite hers at the far end.

“Good evening, Dr. Platon,” said one of the young art history students.

What was his name? Karl nearly paused, trying to remember, but then simply gave the boy a curt nod before he plopped down into his chair.

No doubt conversations would be directed at him this evening. As the assistant director of the Gortyn Archaeological Research Project, he was second in command. Someone passed him the giant wooden bowl of chopped salad and he realized suddenly that all eyes were on him.

Really, it ought to always be like this. I’m the one who supervises the labs. I’m the one who takes care of all the logistics. I’m the one who really runs things.

And yet he was excluded from the private dinner that Edith was having out on the terrace. Something had been discovered. He could feel it. The faces around the table said it too. There’d been gossip flying around for days but Edith had been tight-lipped despite the growing buzz of excitement in the air. And now Helen Montrose had shown up to join Dimitrius Petros. But, as much as he wanted to be the one to laud exclusive information over those around him, he didn’t have it.

Of course, they didn’t know that.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors,” he began as he shoveled salad onto his plate. He handed the bowl to the person at his left and took the platter of roasted chicken from the person on his right. They were waiting for him to go on but he let the moment draw out, left them hanging, as he speared a breast and thigh and dumped it on his plate. As he passed the platter off, he took a sip of water.

“Well,” he finally said, clearing his throat. “I’m afraid they’ll just have to stay rumors.”

A couple of heads hung and someone grumbled.

“So,” said Karl around a mouthful of cucumbers and olives. “What does the ceramics lab have to report?”

They’d go around the table as usual but this time he would lead the discussion. And unlike Dr. Edith Evans, he’d be asking the hard questions and not wondering how their days had been. But even as the head of the ceramics lab began to rattle off the finds and the rest of the table returned to eating, Karl couldn’t help but wonder what was happening on the east terrace.

• • • • •

Although Helen could see that Edith was excited, something in her stoop was troubling.

She’s getting older, Helen thought with a small pang.

“And that’s when the Linear A changed to Cretan hieroglyphs,” Edith continued breathlessly. “That’s when I knew I was on to something. Something big.”

Helen smiled down at the bright eyes set amidst the wrinkles that seemed to have deepened to near crevices in the last–how long had it been–six months. It was hard not to catch her infectious enthusiasm.

“You were very mysterious in your emails,” Helen said, with a conspiratorial smile. “So, when do I learn about this big something?”

Edith reached out a hand to her and Helen immediately took it.

“As soon as our other guest arrives,” Edith said, clearly delighted.

The table set for three suddenly made sense.

“Oh?” said Helen. “And who would that be?”

“Dimitri,” said a deep and resonant voice from behind her. “And I hope I haven’t kept you two beautiful ladies waiting.”

Helen turned in time to see a darkly, handsome man approaching. As he lightly took Edith’s hand in his, he bent and gave it a light kiss.

“Edith,” he said as he stood. “You’re looking positively radiant this evening.”

Edith lightly patted the man’s chest.

“Dimitri,” she chided, though she was grinning from ear to ear. “Do be serious.”

As he turned to her, Helen couldn’t help but stare. The jet black hair, aquiline nose and masculine jaw might have come right out of a fresco. As he took her hand and bent over it, she saw the broad set of his shoulders. His warm breath washed over the back of her hand and she realized with a little start that her heart was racing. But as his lips grazed her skin, a tingling sensation ran up her spine. As he stood, his dark eyes seemed lit from within and, though he gazed into hers, he replied to Edith.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” he said quietly. “And this must be the Helen of whom I’ve heard so much about.”

Helen was speechless. Not a single thought popped into her mind. Instead, the warm feel of his hands enveloping hers nearly made her look at them. But that would mean taking her eyes off his.

Edith chuckled lightly and Helen finally found her voice.

“Charmed,” she said, smiling.

Charmed? Now she nearly rolled her eyes. That’s all you can think to say?

“Here’s dinner,” Edith piped. “Come, let us sit.”

But rather than let her hand go, Dimitri simply laid it over his forearm, gracefully pivoted to stand at her side, and led her the short distance to the table. He quickly pulled out her chair and, as she sat, the cook laid down a wooden bowl of chopped salad. Dimitri quickly held out Edith’s chair for her as well. In moments, all three were sitting.

“May I?” Dimitri asked Edith, reaching for the wine bottle.

“Oh heavens yes,” Edith said. “That’s altogether too fitting.”

As Dimitri took the bottle and opener that had been left on the table, Helen saw Edith wink at her. She smiled at Edith and scowled just a little, sure that she’d just missed something. But whatever it was could wait because, as Dimitri opened the bottle, this was her chance to study him. Under the immaculate, black suit, he wore a crisp white shirt that was open two buttons. The jacket made it difficult to see just how fit he might be, but something about the way he moved made Helen think he might be very fit. His dark hair and the smoothness of his olive skin said he might be in his mid-thirties, about the same age as her. As he poured the wine, Helen realized that somehow chicken had arrived and been set near the salad, as well as a basket of fresh bread.

“Domaine Petros Reserve, 2002,” he said as he began pouring their glasses. “One of the best years in recent memory.”

Domaine Petros, Helen thought. Why does that ring a bell?

But there was no time to puzzle it out as Dimitri finished pouring and Edith raised her glass.

“To friends, old and new,” she said, looking at each of them in turn. “And to exciting new discoveries.”

“New discoveries,” Dimitri echoed.

“New discoveries,” Helen said as they clinked their glasses and sipped.

“Ooh, that’s wonderful, Dimitri,” Edith crooned as she set her glass down.

He inclined his head toward her.

“And Helen?” he said turning to her. “What do you think?”

For the second time in the evening and possibly in her life, she was speechless again. She had no knowledge of wine, let alone Greek wine.

“I think I’d like to hear about the exciting new discovery,” she said.

“That’s my girl,” Edith said, laughing lightly. “Right to the point.”

“No doubt it includes Cretan hieroglyphs,” Dimitri said, smiling and turning to Edith. “And I think you’ve teased us long enough.”

Edith laughed out loud and clapped her hands once.

“The two of you!” she crowed. “I knew this was going to work. You’re going to be perfect together.”

A tiny tremor of disquiet suddenly intruded on the moment and Helen found herself thinking of the wine again. Domaine Petros…

“I’ve finally found it,” Edith pronounced. “The labyrinth of the Minotaur.”

“What?” Helen and Dimitri said simultaneously.

Edith nodded eagerly.

“Let me tell you,” she said.

“Are you talking about the Skortino complex?” Helen said, as the reason for her being here suddenly dawned.

Edith shook her head.

“Here in Gortyn?” asked Dimitri, sounding as intrigued as her.

“But the complex under the quarry has been extensively surveyed,” Helen said. “I should know.” At that, Dimitri’s head whipped around toward her. “Five linear miles of it. And never was there anything to suggest a labyrinth.”

“Not until now,” Edith said. “I followed the labrys.”

“In a Cretan hieroglyph?” Dimitri said, turning quickly to her. “The forty-second syllabogram of the two-headed axe?”

Now it was Helen’s turn to swivel her head toward Dimitri.

“Wait a minute,” Helen said, beginning to understand. “Domain Petros,” she said, her voice starting to rise as her heart began to race again–but not in a good way. “Dr. Dimitrius Petros of the American School of Classical Studies in Athens?” She glared at Edith. “That Dimitri?” Helen quickly, if awkwardly, stood, her chair scooting backward behind her.

“You don’t mean to tell me…” Dimitri said as he rose to his feet as well.

“Just wait a minute–” Edith implored.

“Dr. Helen Montrose,” Helen nearly yelled. “First author on the paper that you and your colleagues saw fit to condemn, while avoiding any attempt to actually engage with it. A ‘geologist caught practicing anthropology without a license’ is the way I believe you phrased it.”

He glared at her.

“Those weren’t my words if that’s what you think–”

“What I think?” Helen yelled. “What I think?”

“Helen, please,” Edith said. “Sit. Let’s discuss this.”

“No, Edith, I’m sorry,” Helen said, shaking her head. She took a breath. “I don’t believe this.”

“Edith,” Dimitri said through clenched teeth. “Why would you–”

“It’s the labyrinth of the Minotaur!” Edith yelled, banging the table with a small fist. “So everybody just calm down.” Edith’s sudden vehemence brought an immediate quiet. In all her life, Helen had never heard Edith so much as raise her voice. “Now sit,” Edith hissed, glaring at her and then Dimitri. “Both of you. Sit.”

Helen glared at Dimitri, saw his jaw muscles working and the tense way he held his body rigid. She didn’t want to be the first to sit. He would have to make the first move. But just as she thought it, he glowered at her and she realized he was thinking the same thing.

“Fine,” said Edith. “We’ll all stand.”

She gripped the edge of the table and held out one hand to Dimitri for help.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said and he took his seat.

Helen froze. She would not sit at the same table with Dimitrius Petros.

Dimitri turned to her.

“Sit,” he said, his eyes boring into her.

She sputtered.

“You don’t give me orders–”

“Edith asked us to sit,” he ground out.

“Oh for heavens sake,” Edith sighed, shaking her head.

Though Helen’s ears burned and she knew her face must be flushed red, she bit her tongue. She had not meant to bring grief to Edith. Still fuming and against her better judgement, Helen slowly sat but she didn’t bother to bring the chair closer to the table. She was fine with being as far away from Dimitrius Petros as possible.

“A roof collapse has revealed an entirely new section of the cave system,” Edith said flatly. “And judging from the frescos and intact votive offerings, I’d say it’s never been disturbed.”

“Frescos?” Helen and Dimitri said simultaneously.

That was getting very old, very quick, thought Helen.

“Is that where you found the Cretan hieroglyphs?” Dimitri asked quickly.

“Yes,” Edith said, starting to get excited again. “I also came across a double-headed axe.”

“Good grief,” Helen muttered. “The double-headed axe is always associated with a labyrinth.”

“The axe is a labrys,” Dimitri said, looking at her, though she averted her eyes. “The very root of the word labyrinth.”

He turned to Edith.

“You say ‘you’ came across it. Not we,” he said. He glanced around the terrace. “And here the three of us sit without your crew.” He paused. “Why?”

“They’re good people,” Edith said quietly. “And hard working.” She sighed. “But not necessarily the best in the business. Most of them are still learning their trades. I can’t have this find compromised. I need the top experts in the world when it comes to Minoan Crete and ancient labyrinths. And it just so happens, I know them both. We’ll include everybody eventually, of course. Even me.”

Something in her tone made both Helen and Dimitri stare at her. She smiled at each of them in turn.

“We don’t even unlock the cave any more,” she said quietly. “We’ve been concentrating our excavations at the praetorium and the theater. But I was taking my last trip through when I saw the new roof fall, the wall it crushed, and the hole it had opened. I didn’t venture far but I barely made it back out, through all the rubble, and the one mile back to the main entrance. I’d love to explore it but I…I just can’t.”

They were all silent for a moment.

“Well,” Edith said with a wistful sigh. “There you have it. The big discovery. The legendary labyrinth that Theseus navigated with the help of string from Ariadne. At its center he slew the great man-bull beast, using the ivory hilted sword of Aegeus, saving the lives of countless young victims who would have been sent to their deaths there. I think I’ve finally found it and I think that something is waiting at its center to be discovered.”