The Goddess Read Free Page A

walls seemed to shrink and crowd
     in. His surroundings began to glow, the result of a mineral in the rock. The constant
     eerie trickle of water down limestone echoed all around him.
    He took three more turns and finally a svelte silhouette came into view. The shadow
     was reaching for a waist-high ledge. Horrified, Darius let out a booming cry.
    “ Nooooo! ”
    Helene jumped back with a loud yelp. Although these walls, too, gave off a luminous
     quality, the chamber was draped in near darkness. Now she leaned forward, squinting
     to see.
    “Your Highness, is that you?”
    His bare feet slapping cold puddles, Darius strode forward. “Helene, what in the name
     of Zeus are you doing here?”
    “Exploring.”
    He could make out the fall of her hair, the sweep of her curves. But this minute his
     interest lay not in the feminine form. He glanced at the ledge— or not the flesh and blood kind .
    “Isn’t it amazing?” she asked, indicating the stone figurine that sat on that ledge.
     “I think she’s the real deal. I mean thousands of years old.”
    When she reached out again, Darius lunged and his hand snapped around her wrist. As
     soon as skin met skin, volts hurled up his arm. From the jump she gave, Helene felt
     it, too. The sensation was intense. Electric. Obviously a by-product of adrenaline
     overload.
    Her expression was one of dawning understanding.
    “You knew she was in here, didn’t you?” she said. “You knew about this figurine and
     this cave.”
    Releasing her, Darius turned to the ledge. Outwardly the figurine was a rudimentary
     piece: its shape was embellished with heavy breasts and ample hips, thighs, and belly.
     But she signified a great deal more than that.
    “This figurine is integral to my time here,” he replied. “I’ll take her with me when
     I leave.”
    “Why?”
    His annoyance spiked. “Ms. Masters… ”
    “You called me Helene before.”
    Groaning, he conceded. “Helene—this is not a game.”
    Carefully, he reached for the figurine.
    He expected the stone to feel cold against his palms and yet her surface was warm.
     Some thermal activity in the rock, he supposed. He tried to lift her but the base
     stuck. Gentle rocking didn’t help. Would he need to come back with a pick? His ancestors
     would roll over in their graves.
    “She’s your goddess, isn’t she?” Helene asked. “The one with all those powers to seduce
     and hypnotize. A fertility statue. I studied history in college. Lots of people all
     over the world still believe in these things. There’s a huge market for replicas on
     eBay.”
    He had less than no interest in forgeries.
    With his gaze adjusted to the shadows now, he scanned the ancient stone curves and
     a sense of destiny overcame him. Helene needed to appreciate the gravity of her find.
     She needed to understand that this place must remain secret.
    “The eldest Vasily child enters this cave three times in his life,” he explained.
     “Once as a boy, later to retrieve the figurine in manhood, and a third time when his
     bloodline is assured, to show his oldest son the route and return the goddess to her
     home until she is needed again. If the figurine were to be broken, it is said the
     Vasily line would be broken, too. To restore and retain her powers she must return
     again and again here to this cave. Only kings, their eldest sons, and the most senior
     palace aide in each generation know of her hiding place and whether, in fact, she
     is merely myth or truly exists.”
    “Except now I know.”
    His focus darted back to his awed companion.
    “You must tell no one. She doesn’t belong on the black market or in a museum.”
    Helene looked appalled. “Of course not. I won’t tell a soul.”
    In the trickling quiet, they both studied the goddess for a long solemn moment while
     the statue’s sightless eyes gazed back.
    “When you return to the main island,” Helene said, “where will you put her?”
    “A special vault. The villa