Lost in the Labyrinth by Patrice Kindl

shouted, but I could see that the Athenians, alerted by our cries, had drawn near of their own accord.
    Asterius tore my hands from him and flung them away like the frailest of cobwebs. I slipped perilously to one side, clawing at his flank with my fingers. One shrewd twist and I would go sliding to my death under those plunging hooves. By great good luck he suddenly lurched to a halt, apparently overcome by the need to express his rage. He pounded his chest with his clenched fists and bellowed until the woods echoed.
    Grasping handfuls of his hide and squirming, wormlike, upward, I managed to pull and push myself onto his back once more.
    "Asterius, my brother!" I called to him. "Do not murder me, I beg of you. It is I, Xenodice!"
    He snorted, as if derisively, and began to gallop at tremendous speed around the clearing. He did not attempt to penetrate the dense brush nearby or descend the mountain—the path was steep and rocky. I believe also that the clearing reminded him of his home in the Bull Pen.
    The boy, I saw, was still up in the tree, held captive by fear.
    Asterius was beginning to tire. He breathed enormously, his sides heaved, his whole body was slick with sweat. His eye was still wild and there was foam on his lips, yet I thought I might tame him. I spoke to him again, my voice firmer this time.
    "All is well, Lord Asterius," I said. "We must be calm so that we may travel down the mountain and seek medical attention for your eye." He slowed his pace a little; he was listening. "All is well," I crooned, "all is well."
    Gradually he came to a halt. His head swiveled around and he saw me. He shook himself all over, as if to throw off his angry mood, nearly dislodging me as well. I clung to him, however, and even risked loosening my death clasp around his waist to pat him cautiously.
    At this moment, the boy in the tree chose to loose his last stone at my brother.
    "I'll kill the little beast myself ifl ever get the opportunity" was my last coherent thought as we reared into the air and I clamped my arms and legs about Asterius again.
    Icarus and the attendants now reappeared—I realized I had not seen them for a time. I later learned that they had withdrawn from sight behind trees, disliking to interfere while I had him under some sort of control. Now there was nothing to be lost by their presence and everything to be gained. They closed in and flung a net—brought along for just such an emergency—over us both.
    Asterius fought against the confining net for some time, until every tooth in my head felt as though it had been jarred loose and the muscles of my arms and thighs were on fire and my wrist, which had been damaged in the struggle, became a torment to me.
    At last, at last, he groaned and sank to his knees. Moving swiftly as thought, Icarus sliced a long slit in the net and tried to pull me through it. I had held my position so long, however, that it was difficult to unclench myself Icarus had to pry my frozen fingers loose and gently drag me away, ever in mortal dread of Asterius's swinging horns.
    Icarus tried to carry me away from Asterius, but I protested. In a weak voice I directed him. "No, let him see me. It may help. We have yet to get him down the mountainside."
    Icarus therefore laid me down near Asterius, where I could reach out a hand, still rigidly curled into a hawk's talons, and rest it on his flank. Asterius was ashamed, I could tell. He would not look at me, but hung his head mournfully and lowed like a cow.
    I scolded him in a soft voice while Icarus examined my wrist.
    "It is beyond my knowledge, Princess," Icarus said. "I do not believe it is broken, but there are many small bones in the wrist, any one of which may be shattered without the fact being obvious. We will have the doctor Asclepius look at it when we return. He is said to be the best in the world, and I know him to be kind and gentle."
    At length I thought to ask about the boy in the tree.
    "He is gone, my