Annika's move south along the narrow dirt footpath from the church to the upper path was taking much longer than the few minutes she thought it would. She'd gambled that he'd gone north because the church was Delos' northern-most structure and he only had to climb a low hill to reach the path above her. If he'd taken the gully to the south, there was the Stadium Quarter's maze of excavated walls, wells, and foundations to negotiate in the dark just to reach the path she was on. Going north was the obvious choice for someone in a hurry. Still, her heart jumped to her throat every time she inched past an excavation. She knew he could be waiting for her in any one of them.
It seemed a lifetime before she reached the upper path and was on open ground in familiar territory. It was as close to a sense of relief as she'd felt since her nightmare began. She could see if someone was in front of her, avoid places where he might be hiding, and move faster – if only her legs would respond beyond a drunken stagger. She couldn't seem to run no matter how hard she tried – nor could she breathe through her nose. She'd been so focused on escaping she'd forgotten all about that – and the pains in her belly and below.
Without stopping, she worked her fingers at her nostrils until she found an edge to get at with her nails. She pulled slowly. She didn't know what to expect but, in the surreal tale that her life had become, was not surprised at finding tampons in her nose. She didn't care about the pain – just wanted to breathe – and pulled them out as best she could.
Annika noticed something else. She was cold, very cold. Even in July, Delos was cold at night, particularly out in the open with the wind picking up as it had. What made matters worse was the soaking wet dress. She pulled it off as she stumbled forward and wrung it out as best she could. She thought of putting it back on, but it still was too damp to wear. Fitting the shoulder straps over her head, she wore the dress down her back like a cape. It would dry faster in the wind that way.
She was between the stadium and the northeast corner of the Lake Area ruins, headed south toward the middle of the island, when she came upon a half-dozen or so houses about a quarter-mile from the center of the ancient town. They were built as a concession to the modern practicality that those working Delos' archeological digs and protecting its sites from plunderers and mischief makers needed housing. Newer ones were built more out of sight, on the southern tip of the island. One house sat only about twenty-five yards to the east of her, beyond a low stone wall running along the eastern edge of the narrow dirt road the footpath had become. It curved south toward the Archaeological Museum, a quarter-mile away. The other houses were to the west across flat, open ground, with the nearest forty yards away and the rest at least twice that.
There wasn't a light or sign of life in any of them. Maybe everyone was living in the new ones to the south? She thought of yelling but doubted she'd be heard above the wind blowing in from the north – even if anyone was there to hear her. The only one listening for certain was him. He was back there somewhere, and she knew it was only a matter of time – possibly minutes – until he found her.
The houses were her only hope of finding help before dawn – but that choice could lead to catastrophe. If she went for the houses and they were empty, she risked him catching up to her before she reached the high ground that she thought gave her the best chance of holding him off until the morning. Morning seemed an eternity from now… and that place was another quarter-mile past the museum, at the far southeast side of the ruins.
She took a deep breath and decided to gamble on the houses – but on the ones to the west. Even though they were farthest away from the road she wanted to stay on, there were more of them, so the odds seemed better. She did a quick scan behind her, saw nothing, and headed toward them. She was almost at the first one when she heard two gunshots. They came at her on the wind from the north, from the direction of the church – and the way he'd be coming. Certain they'd been aimed at her, she fell to the ground for cover.
Her mind was racing but her body didn't move. He has a gun! She waited for the next rounds but heard only the wind. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked toward the houses. Not a single light had come on, not a sound from a door or window opening. Maybe the wind had swept the sound away from them – or maybe no one was there. Then she thought, if he has a gun, I'm not safe in those houses even if people are there. I must get to where I can defend myself – against him and his gun.
She stared north, looking for movement – and found it coming steadily south on the road fifty yards north of where she'd left it. 'It's him!' She said the words aloud into the wind. She watched him start to run. He'd seen her. The road was no longer a choice. She had to get away, had to start moving. She crawled up into a crouch and moved as fast as she could to the west, away from the road. She was headed into the ruins over a half-mile from where she wanted to be. It was Delos' flattest and most indefensible part. It felt like hours that she'd been stumbling over walls and excavations – looking over her shoulder on every step, until she found herself standing amidst the fabled marble lions of Delos, on the western side of the ancient city. She stared southeast over the ruins of its Sacred Lake and largest building, the Agora of the Italians. Somehow, she'd have to cross southeast through the heart of the ruins and climb east along Mount Kynthos, Delos' most prominent height, without being caught. She was as far away from where she wanted to be as she could imagine.
She was tired, she was cold, she was hungry, and she was naked. Worse yet, she had no idea where her pursuer was. She hadn't seen him since he stopped at the place where she'd heard the gunshots. He must be ahead of me, she thought, waiting for me to cross the ruins. I know he's out there, waiting to kill me. That thought led to another, a bizarre one that made her smile: I can't believe this; here I am, in a cradle of ancient Greece, being forced to compete for my life and I'm perfectly dressed for the occasion! Naked as all those Olympian boys. She put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She was afraid if she started, she'd become hysterical – and lose it all.
She stared off toward Mount Kynthos. Fitting, too, she thought, was the place she'd chosen to make her stand: it was what remained of a temple built to honor the pagan deity on Delos probably closest in kinship to Saint Kiriake. Annika was on her way to the hillside Temple of Isis, the magical Egyptian goddess of protection and healing and a modern symbol of female power. Some claim worship of Isis ended only when her many temples were renamed in honor of another hallowed female icon, the Virgin Mary. Andreas and Tassos let the port police officer lead the way. They stayed ten yards behind, scanning from side to side for signs of doubling back – or anything else that might be helpful. They found it in discarded tampons. Now they were certain they were following Annika.
The cop did a good job of tracking her bare feet through the dirt – even after they left the road and headed west. Andreas thought she was headed to some houses, but her tracks abruptly veered south just past where she seemed to have fallen. Hopefully the cop was as good at following tracks over ground pounded almost to stone by thousands of tourist feet a day, because that's where they were headed – to the heart of tourist Delos.
'Chief, we have a problem.' The cop stopped about ten feet past the place of her fall.
'What is it?' asked Andreas.
'The sandal prints turn back toward the road.'
The prints had been in step with Annika's since the church. Andreas looked toward the road. 'I wish your buddy would get here with those damn lights.' Frustrated, he looked at Tassos. 'Why'd the killer suddenly stop following her?' He looked at Tassos.
'Doesn't make any sense, does it,' Tassos said, as a statement, not a question.
The cop said, 'Maybe he heard your gunshots and decided to take off?'
'Maybe,' Tassos said somberly. 'Or maybe he knows where she's headed.'
'How could he know?'
Tassos shrugged. 'My guess is he's spent a lot of time here and probably knows most of Delos' secrets. She's trying to hide in his backyard. Who knows what she said or did that helped him figure out what she's likely to do now. One thing's for sure: he has something in mind.' He paused. 'And he's not afraid of us or' – he gestured toward the houses – 'the drunks in there sleeping off the panegyri.' He pointed to the sandal prints. 'I think I'll follow these.'
'Do you think it's a good idea tracking him alone in the dark – especially if he knows this place as well as you think he does?' Andreas obviously didn't like the idea.
Tassos' voice was firm. 'One of us has to follow him, and I know this place pretty well myself. The ancients didn't just build temples here. They were practical businessmen and had ways to escape from invaders and pirates. The official version is that all their secret tunnels and hideaways were destroyed or simply collapsed over time.' He paused. 'I don't believe it. Too many smugglers still use this island. Smugglers don't go where there's no place to hide – and with our guy liking tunnels as much as he does' – Tassos shook his head and repeated himself – 'I think he's up to something.'
'Okay, but what makes you think you can find him?'
In the dark, Tassos sounded like someone speaking in a trance. 'A few years back, antiquities illegally removed from Greece and some other places started turning up in the newer acquisitions of prominent European museums. It wasn't just embarrassing for the museums, it was expensive; they had to return what they'd acquired to the plundered countries without getting their money back. The museums and their insurance companies wanted the source cut off and raised holy hell with Interpol to do it.' He paused. 'Interpol traced the operation to the Cyclades but couldn't find the bad guys. I did – right here on Delos.'
'That's the favor you called in?'
Tassos nodded.
Andreas let out a breath. 'At least wait for the kid with the lights.'
Andreas made out another nod in the dark.
'We'll follow her.' Andreas gestured for the port cop to start moving. 'Hopefully, one of us will find who we're looking for before they find each other.'
Tassos started walking. 'I'll follow these tracks back to the road and wait there for the lights.'
By the time Andreas and the port policeman reached the edge of the ruins by the Lake Area, they were sure Annika knew she was being followed. Her sudden shifts in direction and dramatically shortened stride were what you'd expect from someone ducking and crawling to evade a pursuer.
What Andreas couldn't figure out was why the killer had called off the chase. He probably knew she'd spotted him, but why would he stop when he was so close? Unless he didn't want the chase to end – at least not yet… or not here.
He scanned the ruins. Nothing. He turned to the cop. 'Okay, let's get back to the tracks – and switch to the red lens on your light, it'll make them easier to see on this hard stuff.' Andreas knew that no matter what the bastard had in mind, he wasn't likely to give up on his plan, whatever it was – and Annika didn't seem likely to give up on hers either, whatever it might be.
Perhaps Tassos was right and she did have a plan… one the killer had figured out. That meant any minute she could be dead. Andreas preferred to think the killer had turned away because he was afraid to fight her face-to-face after the rock-throwing back at the church – and her tracks would lead Andreas to a place where he'd find her safe and sound. But Andreas hadn't believed in fairy tales in a very long time. He knew they had to find her fast. Annika had left the lions and moved toward the southeast beyond the dry lake bed that once was the reservoir of Delos. She moved tentatively, conscious of every shadow and alert to every sound. She passed through the crumbled former marketplaces for slaves, goods, and grain and by the monuments, temples, and other ruins of Delos' central area. It was here that the people of Delos erected the Sanctuary of Apollo to honor the son of Zeus who, myth held, they helped by allowing him to be born on Delos in exchange for his father's promise that the island would prosper. Now it was Annika asking for their help.
She was jittery as she came to the Theater Quarter – the ancient city's most opulent shopping and living area. Everything had been too quiet, and there was no sign of him. Something was wrong. She turned east, toward an area of more ruined sanctuaries – these, though, to foreign gods. She was headed for a western foothill of Mount Kynthos when she saw the tightly clustered mass of fig trees and bushes. It was the perfect place for him to hide. But she had no choice; she had to pass through there to reach the ridge she must climb to the Temple of Isis.
She held her breath – and two large rocks – as she crept toward the greenery. Although she heard nothing, she was certain he was in there, listening to the pounding of her heart. As she stepped onto the narrow dirt track that wound around the mass, she realized this was just what he expected her to do, so he could surprise her as she went by. She paused for an instant, then charged from the path into the heart of the bushes and trees screaming in her mind, I'll kill you!
Immediately, she found herself amid a swarming rush of sounds and movements, fur and feathers, jumping and flying. Wild rabbits and birds were as unaccustomed to creatures of her sort on their island at this hour as she was to being here. She dropped to her knees, her body shaking. She let the stones fall from her hands, bowed her head, and thanked God her tormentor wasn't there. The adrenaline rush had passed, followed by exhaustion. But still there was a climb to make. She struggled to her feet and trudged toward the hillside.
The climb made her dizzy, and halfway she gagged as if to vomit – but there was nothing to come up. She crawled the rest of the way in a daze. At the top she collapsed. If he found her now, she was as good as dead.
When she looked up, it was all as she remembered. It was far different from any place she'd passed through below. A headless statue of the goddess Isis stood framed within the four entrance columns and crowning horizontal entablature to a small, 2,200-year-old Doric temple. Though no more than seventeen feet wide, nineteen feet from floor to cornice tip, and thirty-six feet deep, it had once boasted a magnificent entrance, which had been painstakingly resurrected from scattered remnants. Now – as before – the Temple of Isis stood facing west toward the sea astride a foundation of stone five feet higher than the path leading to it.
A beautiful place… the perfect place for her… to wait to ambush him. 'My God,' she said aloud. Her heart skipped a beat. He could have taken the road past the museum and be inside waiting for her. Her eyes darted about in the dark – or he could be hiding behind the temple's walls. Her heart was racing.
Very carefully, Annika climbed to where she could peer between the columns. She wanted no more surprises. There was nothing inside but the statue of Isis and several large pieces of carved marble a few feet from the far left corner. They stood tall and wide enough for him to hide behind. She picked up a rock and held her breath as she carefully edged along inside the right side wall to where she could see behind the marble pieces. Nothing there. She let out a breath and made her way out of the temple to search behind its walls.
Unlike most of Delos' ruins, the Temple of Isis had had its stone rear and side walls rebuilt in their original place. Although not as tall as the originals, they were more than high enough to hide behind. From its highest point at the edge of the temple's front cornice, each side wall descended abruptly to where it leveled out a little more than halfway to its intersection point with the eight-foot-high rear wall. Annika slowly circled the temple walls twice – first counter-clockwise, then clockwise. She found no sign of him. She climbed back into the sanctuary.
For a moment she stood quietly staring at the statue of Isis, the rock still in her hand. She walked back to the front of the temple and set the rock next to a pillar. From here, she could see across Delos to the sea and anything moving below.
Annika had wondered when she worked here how any being – even a betrayed king – possibly could possess rage deep and bitter enough to reduce such an extraordinarily vibrant civilization to this tragic island of rocks. She no longer wondered; she knew.
Her mind raced over her plan. If he came for her, she'd see him and bombard him with rocks as he climbed. She could kill him from here – even if he came with a gun. If he tried to flank her from the other side of the hill or from Mount Kynthos, she'd have plenty of time to escape along the ridgeline to any number of paths to other places filled with stones to throw. If he kept after her, she'd find her way back to Isis along another path and start the cycle all over again. Yes, that was her plan. If only her body would cooperate.
Annika knew she'd picked the obvious place for what she had in mind. Anyone familiar with the island could figure that out, but so what? There was no sign of him anywhere. She was here first, and that was all that mattered. This was where she'd fight until help arrived – or one of them was dead.
For the first time, Annika felt prepared for whatever he might try. She stretched out her arms and yawned. The dress she wore as a cape whipped about her face in the wind. She'd become so accustomed to the cold, and her feet so numbed to the pain of the stones, that she'd forgotten she was naked. She touched the dress. It was almost dry. Only parts around her neck were still damp. She pulled it over her head and wrapped it around her neck so the wet ends trailed behind her like a scarf. The wind would dry them quickly.
She wondered how much longer until dawn. Not much, she hoped. Her mind wandered to how it would feel standing as a mortal – a mortal woman no less – with the goddess Isis as first light fired across the legendary birthplace of the god of light, Apollo. It was an enchanting thought – but one that ended abruptly with a flash of light from the base of the hill. Someone was there.
Instinctively, she stepped back. It was a natural reaction to fear, and she knew how to handle it. From the movement of the light, she could tell he was climbing quickly toward her. Annika took two deep breaths and focused solely on how best to kill him before he made it up the hill. It was a mistake she'd realize too late.