Fiona sat on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. It was the only thing she could do to keep herself from pacing like a caged animal.
That was exactly what she felt like.
She knew pacing was a bad idea. She hadn’t eaten anything in at least twelve hours, and her blood sugar was dangerously low. Any physical activity at this point would only make things worse. She wished there was a way to shut her brain off as well, and not just because being trapped in the little room was driving her crazy. The human central nervous system used twice as much glucose as the rest of the body. She was already running on fumes, and there was nothing she could do about it.
“Fiona? Are you there?”
She looked up to find Gallo looking down at her from the television screen. “Aunt Gus! Are you okay?”
“For now. How are you doing?”
“Not so good.”
Gallo stared at her for a moment then turned to someone standing out of view. “Has she had anything to eat? You can’t starve her. She’s a diabetic.”
“I’ll make sure she gets some food straightaway,” came the answer.
Fiona instantly recognized the voice: Kenner. “Aunt Gus, don’t tell me you’re helping that piece of—”
Gallo cut her off. “I’ll do whatever I have to do, to keep you safe. That’s what your uncle would want.”
Fiona knew she was right. In fact, given the way she felt right now, she was not inclined to put up much of a fight. She hugged her knees tighter. Before either she or Gallo could say anything more, the door to her room swung open and an unseen hand slid a tray inside. She jumped off the bed and made a dash for the door, but it closed before she could reach it. Her failure was mitigated somewhat by the delivery she had just received. The tray contained a plastic cup of orange juice, along with a bowl of breakfast cereal and a glass of milk.
Better than nothing, she thought, snatching up the orange juice and downing it in a single gulp. It occurred to her, too late to do anything about it, that the drink might be drugged or poisoned, but then if her captors had wanted to hurt her, there would be no need for trickery.
“Fiona, I need your help with a translation,” Gallo said. “You were right about Queen Hippolyte’s belt. There was something on it. A map. And something that looks to me like Phaistos glyphs. Do you think you could translate them for me?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know how to read Phaistos script. But even if I could read it, I wouldn’t. Not for him.”
“Fiona!” Gallo’s voice was so sharp, the speaker on the television monitor crackled for a second. “Your uncle put you in my care, and you need to trust me. You will do what I tell you. Do you understand?”
Fiona glowered at the screen. Yet, there was something very odd about Gallo’s behavior. She was not the type to simply roll over and surrender at the first sign of trouble.
“Show her the belt,” Gallo told Kenner.
The image on the screen changed to show the object she had only glimpsed in the Labyrinth: Queen Hippolyte’s battle girdle. Despite herself, she found her gaze drawn to the intricately tooled leather. Her eyes went wide when she realized what she was seeing. “The Amazons knew about the Americas? That’s amazing.”
She studied it, trying to find some flaw, but the map was astonishingly accurate. Finally, she turned her attention to the Phaistos characters that bordered the image. That was when she saw the familiar but equally incomprehensible script of the Mother Tongue.
“I just need you to help with the Phaistos script,” Gallo was saying. “That’s all. You have to trust me, Fiona.”
Fiona now understood what the woman was trying to tell her. Just the Phaistos script. Don’t let them know about the Mother Tongue.
She could do that.
Still, if she capitulated too quickly, Kenner might suspect that they were not being truthful. She squared her shoulders. “Will you let us go if we help you?”
The image shifted again, this time revealing Kenner’s earnest face. “My dear, if it was up to me, I’d let you walk out the door now. But I can promise you that your cooperation will be rewarded.”
“You tried to kill us in Crete,” Fiona said, holding back none of the anger that memory evoked. “Why should I believe anything you say?”
Kenner ducked his head guiltily. “I didn’t want that to happen. I’m so sorry. And I’m very pleased that you made it out of there.”
Fiona considered a very un-ladylike reply, but decided she had already pushed back hard enough.
“I have convinced Mr. Tyndareus that you are much more useful as an ally than as an enemy,” Kenner finished.