Broken Bird
by Vivi Kanari
Vivi Kanari is a Greek author who lives with her two daughters and husband near the sea (but, in her mind, she lives in an alternative Greece, ruled by mages. Her family is almost ok with that). She enjoys writing stories influenced by mythology and folklore, and she has published some of them in Greek anthologies. Four of her short stories, including “broken bird”, has received an honorable mention in “L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future” contest. In her free time, she usually struggles with her first novel. When not writing, she sets reading challenges (her current challenge is over 80 books a year).
_All monsters must die_. Arsinoe came to this conclusion while staring at the empty pipe. The water had stopped dripping into the clay trough. Arsinoe had licked up every drop. Thirst took over her. Tired, her legs shaking, she just laid there, staring at the dry pipe, trying to figure out why. The torch beside her flickered and, with a hiss, went out, bringing the smell of smoke to her nostrils.
All monsters must die, slaughtered by the blade or the cunning of a hero. Because heroes do not fail. They just let the monster succumb to thirst in a maze.
Lying against the wall, her throat dry, Arsinoe closed her eyelids. She remained there, waiting for the end, until she heard the familiar screeching of metal against metal. They had opened the exit, the one that led to the outside world. Her heartbeats quickened, her muscles tensed. Another hero came to kill her.
A second screeching, the lower door opened and, soon, footsteps sounded on the brass floor, multiplied by the acoustic of the labyrinth. Arsinoe stood up, fighting back nausea. She fumbled beside her, grabbed the sword she always kept close, and started walking through the dark corridors.
The corroded metal was covering the intruder’s smell; the walls of the labyrinth were aging. An image formed in her mind, the ceiling rusting and collapsing and with it tones of stones and dirt. Burying her alive. If she would survive another hero, that is.
She traversed the branches of the labyrinth with shuffling feet until she saw the glare of a torch disappearing behind a corner. Her nostrils caught the unknown man. Approaching the end of the corridor, she leaned against the wall, her fingertips caressing the surface, smooth in places and rough where the rust began. She put her head out. The visitor was there, bathed in torchlight.
Short, just below her chest, skinny, without even an armor, he was unlike any previous hero. She stood for a moment, baffled. For the first time, someone entered the labyrinth without holding a weapon. So what? Arsinoe had to survive. The young man, though slim, would quench her hunger and his blood would appease her thirst. For the time.
Arsinoe tried to follow him, but the stomp of the hooves on the brass floor alerted the visitor, eventually.
“Whose there?” His voice sounded youthful.
Arsinoe had learned that terrified people lose more easily in battle. Even if the young man did not seem to hold a threat, she followed the same pattern she had established when welcoming prospective heroes. She pressed the tip of the sword against the metal wall and drew it with a piercing sound. The man screamed and dashed forward. The hunt began.
His sandals echoed down a hallway that led to a dead end. Unfortunate choice for him. But then again, the chase would not last forever. There was no more need to rush. She proceeded slowly now, her breath heavy, holding the sword upright. She reached the entrance to the corridor the young man had taken and let out a menacing growl. A little further down, she found his torch lying on the ground. She picked it up and moved on. The light would cast her shadow at the end of the corridor, looming, terrifying. One last turn to the left…
There she found him, his back against the wall. His face matched the voice, a teenager. He was indeed unarmed, but he was holding something in his hands, a metal statuette. Arsinoe eased the sword and moved the torch towards the object.
“Arsinoe,” the young man said. Her name… The last time she had heard was from her mother’s lips and it had been… how long had it been since then?
“For you,” he said. “Don’t… don’t hurt me.”
Arsinoe reached out to grab the statuette. The young man pressed his body further to the wall, and the object fell from his shaking hands. Arsinoe recognized it immediately and her memories, imbibed with the aroma of wet earth, rushed through.
#
Wet grass, a high wall and a magnificent sky above. Her gaze lost in the clouds, she took notice of the visitors only when they came close. A man in a leather apron and two soldiers, swords drawn. The man sat down next to her.
“Engineer,” a soldier said, “better not get too close.”
“She won’t hurt me,” Engineer said, “and even if she will, I am responsible for her birth, it would be just fair”.
Then he faced Arsinoe, “My name is Daedalus. And you must be Arsinoe”.
Unable to articulate human speech, she simply nodded. Daedalus reached into the large pocket of his apron and pulled out a strange object.
“For you,” he said. A metal bird. Daedalus overturned it. Under its belly, a lever. Daedalus tuned it a few times. The bird began flapping its wings. Arsinoe was enchanted; the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She timidly reached for it, encouraged by Daedalus’ smile. She gently picked it up and turned it over. The lever was difficult to grasp. Her fingers were larger than Daedalus’ and her nails, long and hard, hindered her. A crack. She must have pushed it harder than necessary. The lever, broken, fell to the ground. She just stared for a moment, unable to accept the destruction of something so wonderful, and then grunted loudly. Immediately, the soldiers rushed in and dragged Daedalus away.
“Leave me alone,” he cried, “she had no bad intention. She just broke the toy and got frustrated.”
“Enough,” one soldier told him. “I think you’ve seen what you needed to see, Engineer. Let’s go now.”
“But…” Daedalus said.
“Enough,” the soldier said. “Take no more advantage of King Minos’ kindness. You shouldn’t even be here.”
They took him away while he turned now and then towards her. Arsinoe held tight to the damaged toy. Her first toy.
#
A metal bird. She picked it up. There was a lever on its belly, made for human fingers, with no sharp claws sticking out. She tuned it carefully, gently; the bird flapped its wings several times. Arsinoe wanted to laugh, but her laugh came out as a snarl, terrifying the young man. She ignored his screams, lost in the sight of this mechanical bird, the flapping of its wings.
“My father, the engineer Daedalus, gave it to me,” he said with trembling voice. “I can help you escape.”
Arsinoe tuned the toy one more time.
“Guilt is tearing my father apart for what he did to you. He wants to make amends.”
The bird kept flapping its wings. Outside. Out of the rusty walls and darkness. Outside. No more thirst, no more metal taste on the water. No more hunger or satiety with human flesh. Outside.
Except there was no place in human society for a monster. Arsinoe knew that well. The young man revealed another hidden object; a glass container, with wide ends and a narrow middle. There was something inside, maybe dirt, slowly pouring through its middle.
“Hey, you see that? It is a clepsydra; it counts time. The door locks and unlocks with a timer. We only have to form the password the moment the sand reaches the bottom. See now, it is already half gone. We should hurry up”.
She turned around, towards the exit, taking the shortest path. The man picked up the torch and followed her.
“My name is Icarus,” he said, speaking more firmly now. He was trying to catch up with Arsinoe’s bigger stride. His voice echoed off the walls, filling the labyrinth from end to end. Never had Arsinoe heard so much human speech in this place. Only war cries from the heroes, some short curses and screams of pain. Some of them even said a prayer before dying. So many words together seemed unnatural to her. Speech. This was what separated humans from monsters. She slowed down to a halt. Icarus stopped too. For a while, they stood face to face, until Icarus took a deep breath and spoke:
“King Minos is dead and his heir wants to put an end to the labyrinth. He forced my father to cut off the water supply. My father continued to resist him, though. So the new King of Knossos challenged him, asked him if he would continue to support the monster that killed his only son. Thus I ended into the labyrinth”.
Arsinoe was still lingering.
“My father turned out to be right about you, I suppose,” he shrugged.
These words awakened something in her, pushing her to resume moving towards the exit. At the next turn, they found themselves in the center of the maze, since that was where the shortest path passed. It was a high-ceilinged hall with a large earthen basin in the middle and above it the only opening to the upper world that brought air to her underground prison. From this hole, the priests of Poseidon were pouring grease from the sacrifices, and this grease maintained an endless fire.
Arsinoe proceeded into the great hall, waiting for Icarus to follow. He did not. He just stared, wide-eyed, his face a mask of terror. The fire was powerful, lighting up all corners. One corner displayed the remains of the heroes, another the pile of their swords. Arsinoe clenched her teeth, but continued to walk, hoping Icarus would eventually fall behind. He did, eyes on the ground, hand covering mouth and nose. Human bones crumbled beneath their feet, the stench of decay satiated every breath. She wished she could talk, that she could explain. She could not, so she continued walking across the hall.
#
During her first days in the labyrinth, Arsinoe thought herself abandoned. Then she heard the door open. She had hoped, believed even, that they had punished her enough for being what she was and that she could return to the estate, that she could stare at the sky again. She ran longingly towards the footsteps that echoed down the brass corridors. Until she saw a man in a golden armor, shining beneath the torch he held in his left hand. In his right hand, he held a sword. Arsinoe drew closer. The man raised his sword and charged. She dodged to the side. The sword missed her head but dug into her arm. The wound stung.
The man, with a yell, rushed again. This time, she moved more effectively and, as the sword slid past her, she brought her hand down hard on his head. The man stumbled a bit but continued his attack. He wounded her a few more times, but she was stronger and finally seized the sword. His weapon gone, bravery abandoned the valiant hero who run for his life.
She hunted him down, of course. His screams echoed throughout the corridors. At that moment, Arsinoe was not thinking clearly. She was acting on instinct. She was just scared, desperate, and furious. When the sword pierced the hero, she knelt beside him and mourned. As time went by, grief gave way to hunger. Human flesh disgusted her, but myths made it clear:
Monsters eat people. Until a hero kills them.
#
Arsinoe paused. There was no point. There was nothing waiting for her outside. She had no place in human society. The horror beheld at the center of the labyrinth had turned Icarus silent. She could not blame him. The dizziness of thirst had returned, same with the soaring of her limbs. She stopped, not wanting to take another step. Icarus stayed beside her for a while. Then he took her hand.
“Come on,” he said, “Let’s go. Clepsydra is emptying.”
Icarus’s touch disturbed her. No one had touched her, ever, not even her mother.
“I can’t find the way out without you. Let’s go,” he insisted, and she mustered the last of her strength to lead him towards the exit, unsure whether she wanted to follow him outside.
There was a disc at the exit. Every time the pulleys went into motion, it turned as well. Arsinoe suspected the disc related to the unlocking of the door, but she had never solved the enigma.
“Every time someone enters the labyrinth, my father locks them in by forming the name of the potential hero on the disc,” Icarus explained. “Once clepsydra empties, we can unlock the door with the same password. Well, there is not much sand left”.
They both sat on the ground, watching the sand. Arsinoe had studied the letters on the disc several times in the past. Maybe someday she would learn to read and write, maybe then she would have a way to communicate with people, find a place among them. She shook her head. Foolish, foolish thoughts.
When the last grain of sand hit the bottom, Icarus turned the disk, bringing each letter of his name on the top, until it clicked. A sharp sound signaled the unlocking of the door, followed shortly by the familiar turning of pulleys and screeching of metal. This time not to bring in an enemy, but to open the way to freedom.
How long had it been? How long since that fateful day when they locked her in?
#
She was playing outside, the day the man with the golden crown on his head and the soldiers came. She was lifting the broken bird up against the sun, as if it was alive, flying. When she heard footsteps, she gently put it down. After the Engineer’s visit, no one had come to the estate again. It was the first time she had seen so many people gathered together. The soldiers, with metal breastplates and great swords in hand, ready for battle, shone under the morning light. Two of them were carrying a large net. They were casting furtive glances at Arsinoe, their faces contorted with disgust. She tried to hide behind an amphora; her big body remained exposed, though.
She immediately disliked the man with the crown, the way he approached mother with a hostile look. He greeted with a nod and mother nodded back.
“You know why we came here, Pasiphae,” he said. Mother remained silent.
“This must end,” he continued.
“And then, what?” mother whispered.
“According to the priests, I must receive you back into the palace,” he said with a grimace, as if eating something sour. “So be it.”
“You haven’t come even once all these years,” she said. He laughed and Arsinoe felt a shiver running down her shoulders.
“For what? To see the monster you created? After copulating with a bull?” he retorted, his face red, his hands clenched into fists. Arsinoe stood up, ready to protect mother.
“We have all sinned, Minos, you being the first sinner of all, by not sacrificing the white bull to Poseidon. You brought this curse on us” mother said. Now she was angry, too. The man raised his fists.
“How dare you? How dare you compare our sins? Nothing compares to your vile actions. To what you did with …with the help of that vile engineer. Do not worry, though. I made him pay. I had him build the monster’s prison all by himself. With his own hands, the wretch forged it every day, from dawn to dusk. I placed a whole copper mine at his disposal, so that we could hide this monster from the face of the earth forever.”
King Minos said his last words through clenched teeth, hissing like a viper, only a step separating him from mother. He took this step and Arsinoe had no choice but to come to her mother’s rescue. She never reached them. The guards reacted in a flash. They threw the net over her while others surrounded the king, placing their bodies as a protective shield. She tried to escape, but the net entangled her horns. The soldiers finally threw her down and started beating her.
“I want her alive”, Minos ordered. “The damned priests want her alive.” Helpless as she was, wrapped in the net, she tried to meet her mother’s gaze. At least mother was safe. Maybe she could help her. Ignoring the pain from the blows, she twisted her body towards her. Mother had turned her face to the other side.
At that moment, she craved to have a human voice so badly that she really believed the gods would grant her wish, as they do in the myths. She gathered as much air as she could and called out “mother”. All that came out was a howl. Some men backed away in fright but did not loosen the net. Mother still had her back turned on her. Not a single glance for the monster-daughter.
#
“I will go first,” Icarus said. “There won’t be a problem. No one will expect me to make it out alive. Only my father will be waiting at the exit. He will take care of the guards too”.
Arsinoe agreed, though hesitant. As soon as the lower door opened, Icarus walked through first and climbed the stairs. Arsinoe also passed through the door, but remained at the bottom, hidden. The pulleys turned again, and the door closed behind her, plunging them into darkness. She held her own breath and heard Icarus inhale a few feet upward. The creaking of the pulley started again, and the place filled with light and fresh air. Although sheltered at the base of the stairs, her eyes stung from the light. So powerful. Outside. Suddenly, all her reserves disappeared. She lifted her foot over the first step.
The exit was half-open when she heard Icarus call her. A desperate call. Something had gone wrong.
Arsinoe rushed towards the door that was closing again. The light became too strong, ruthless. She was almost blind; she reached out towards the exit nevertheless, only to touch metal. The door had closed. She banged and screamed, banged and screamed.
The pulleys stopped for a moment and then started up again. She felt a draft of air. Her eyes wept, clouded by the brief exposure to the sun. She knew which door they had opened, though. Because the draft did not smell of earth, but of rust. She stood still. The lower door remained wide open, inviting her back home, into the labyrinth. She ignored it. As she would ignore hunger and thirst. She opened her palm, still holding the metal bird. She had accidentally broken it, perhaps when she was banging on the door. Thick tears fell on the toy. She pressed it on her chest, shoulders shaking.
The pulleys went back into action. The bottom door was closing too. If she did not hurry, she would not fit through the opening before long. She did not move. With a small click, the door closed for good, trapping her on the stairs. Arsinoe closed her eyes and wished the end would come quickly.
Mouth dry from thirst, body folded over the steps, their edges digging into her ribs, her breathing labored, she eventually fell asleep and dreamt blurred faces of the past, her mother, the king, Daedalus. All of them were bending over her, huge and ferocious. Enormous monsters looming over little Arsinoe, who was trying to hide in vain her ugliness, the horns on her head, the muzzle of a bull. She then ran into the labyrinth, to hide, and the pulleys went into motion again, closing the door.
The pulleys were working again. Not possible. The door was opening, the upper door, only now there was no sun, only the yellowish light of a lantern tracing the outline of a man. Arsinoe unfolded her aching body, unsure of what to expect. Her hooves clattered on the steps. He stood there, motionless. She clutched the broken toy in her hand and ascended the stairs. The man stepped aside to make room for her. Arsinoe ducked under the low exit and found herself … outside.
For a moment, she panicked with such openness, longing for the bowels of the earth again. However, before she could retreat, nature embraced her and welcomed her with familiar smells, sounds, images. Her heart opened to the vastness of the world. She stared at the starry sky above her, enjoyed the feel of the ground beneath her hooves. She took a deep breath and filled her lungs with the coolness of the night. So unused was she to the fresh air that for a moment she felt dizzy and collapsed to the ground. In the dim light, she could make out shadows of low trees. They looked like olive trees. She could not wait for the sun to come out and shine on the dark green of their leaves. For a while, a nightingale covered the song of the crickets.
The man poured water into a mug. Beside him, a plate gave off the smell of cooked food, a forgotten smell, from the past. She grasped the mug first and emptied it. The man had to refill it twice more. She then grabbed the plate and plunged her muzzle into it. She recognized some vegetables, a drop of wine, and quite a bit of olive oil, all melting in the mouth.
“You have to go,” he said, his deep voice familiar. She recognized the Engineer’s leather apron.
“When it’s time for the changing of the guard, they’ll figure out what happened and come after you.”
Only then, Arsinoe noticed the two guards lying on the ground, their eyes closed and their chests rising and falling calmly.
“My son will lead you to a secluded port. There a boat will take you to a ship that will be waiting offshore. From there, you will reach my estate, outside of Athens. It will be like when you lived with your mother. A large area to move freely, with high walls to hide and protect you.” He pointed towards a cart with two horses and Icarus holding the reins.
“You will hide in this cart. Icarus will lead.”
She showed Daedalus the remains of the broken toy. He approached the lantern and studied the pile of metallic parts.
“You must go now,” he repeated. Arsinoe grunted and thrust the toy at him.
“Do you want me to fix it for you?” he asked. Arsinoe nodded.
“It will take time. I don’t know if we’ll make it.” Arsinoe kept showing him the broken toy. Daedalus sighed.
“Well then. I’ll see what I can do”.
He took the pieces carefully and placed them on the ground, next to the lantern. He got some tools from his apron, bent over the toy and began to fix it. Arsinoe laid beside him, her gaze lost in the sky.
At some point, Icarus approached her. He explained that when they came out of the labyrinth, the King was waiting for them. Apparently, he feared Daedalus would get his son out with ruse. However, once Icarus got out, the King and his soldiers left. They never expected Daedalus to come back for her.
Daedalus kept fixing the toy all through the night. Icarus was pacing nervously, sometimes bending over his father, sometimes checking the breathing of the sleeping guards, sometimes returning to the cart and grabbing the reins, ready to leave. Arsinoe paid no attention to his nervousness.
“It will not be ready on time. You won’t make it,” Daedalus warned her at some point. Arsinoe continued to stare at the stars.
Dawn was approaching when Daedalus handed her the toy. The sleeping guards began to stir while human figures were approaching through the olive grove.
“Quick, get on the cart,” Daedalus urged her. Arsinoe ignored him, just as she ignored Icarus’ pleas. With her fingertips, she tuned the game. The bird flapped its wings again.
The guards kept getting closer. Now they were pointing at Arsinoe, yelling curses. Arsinoe did not wait any longer. She clutched the toy in her fist and started running towards the cart. She passed it by and headed to the mountains, while Icarus shouted at her to stop. Only when the entrance of the labyrinth was no longer visible, when she was finally alone amongst the trees, she stretched out her hands to the sky and laughed with her heart. Not exactly a human laugh, but that of a different child, who got finally outside.
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