The Goddess Read Free

tops.
    Down below, he saw Helene Masters strolling along the beach. Her hair was flying in
     a sea breeze, and she was edging her way along a far outcrop. Sprayed with seawater,
     the rocks would be slippery. Although she looked nimble—almost graceful—he braced
     himself, concerned she would slip. But she reached the cliff wall without incident.
     Now to see if she could make it back without breaking her neck.
    The phone rang. As always, Yanni was composed.
    “Helene Masters’s story has been verified—to a point,” the Chief Aide said. “She arrived
     at Tierenias three weeks ago and has since worked in a casual capacity for Alexio
     Moraitis, a taverna owner and long-standing primary caretaker of our smaller island.
     I need the name of the educational institution to authenticate her claim of graduating
     this year. Some journalists build covers over many months. Photographs of you on that
     island now would fetch a lot of money and be worth the time.” A humble tone came into
     his voice. “I’ll organize a boat to collect her. When she is here, I will deal with
     the situation appropriately.”
    “Fine,” Darius said. “Good.”
    But then, watching Helene exploring in the distance, apparently innocent of any wrong-doing
     and probably having worked hard all morning in the sun, he reconsidered. He eyed his
     glass, pondered the villa’s ample supplies, then recalled the intriguing hue of her
     eyes. The passion in her voice.
    “Actually, no,” he said.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “Don’t send a crew just yet.” Helene balanced on an elevated rock now, face tilted
     toward the sky, arms out like a bird, sarong and flaxen hair flying in the breeze.
     “I’ll call again and let you know when.”
    “You’re aware of tradition, Your Highness. This time is to be spent alone.”
    “With that tradition already breached, another few hours won’t hurt.”
    Setting his cell aside, he sipped again, waiting for his temporary guest to turn about.
     Instead she crouched—to check out a rock pool or, perhaps, a cut from an oyster shell
     on her foot. When she remained low, out of sight, his gaze narrowed. Finally he let
     out a growl.
    A freak wave hadn’t swept her out to sea. And she couldn’t have magically passed through
     that rock wall. There was a way into the ravine that lay on the other side, but its
     entrance was well-hidden.
    He couldn’t take a chance on anyone finding out what was concealed beyond that point.
     If Helene found it— dropped it the way she’d dropped that bucket—
    Darius raced out the door.
    …
    Several minutes later, out of breath, he stood before the cliff wall where she’d disappeared.
     At ground level on this particularly low tide, he discovered an area of the rock had
     eroded through to the other side. While a man of his build could never struggle through,
     someone of Helene’s petite stature would fit.
    Darius strode inland until he came upon a particular groove in the rock. Using his
     shoulder, he pushed with all his might. Finally a rock louver grated open barely wide
     enough for Darius to squeeze through. On the other side, he sprinted down the pebble-filled
     corridor until he came to the obscured entrance of a cave. He cupped his mouth and
     called into the tunnel, “ Helene Masters!” then threw a glance to his right. By design that path, too, was blocked by a cliff
     wall. No one was meant to find this entrance, although dainty footprints marked in
     wet sand confirmed Helene had somehow managed it.
    Many years ago, he’d ventured inside this cave with his father. Later, together, they’d
     pored over a map. This place was a maze, and meant to be. He only hoped Helene hadn’t
     wandered in too far and gotten hopelessly lost.
    The scent of moss and salt suffused his senses. All around, dank air pressed in. Farther
     down, amid misty light, a craggy three-pronged intersection appeared. Following his
     mental roadmap, he took the left path where domed