Asterion, p.1
Asterion, page 1
Asterion
Katalina Leon
Table of Contents
Title Page
ASTERION © copyright 2017 Katalina Leon
Author Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
About the Author
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ASTERION © copyright 2017 Katalina Leon
Author Katalina Leon
Cover Design Jack Atkins
Editing Hot Tree Editing, Becky Johnson
Content Editor Liv Ventura
Copy Editor Kristin Scearce
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Asterion
What if the myth of the Minotaur was bullshit?
Betrayed by her village chief, Larisa is brought to a mysterious island and left bound in a subterranean labyrinth, where drops of her blood summon the mythical Minotaur. She expects the man-beast to take her life, but the monster turns out to be something unexpected. Darron is a shape-shifting being from the stars who longs to be human. Larisa’s decision to befriend him will change both their worlds forever.
Author Note
The familiar Greek myth of the Minotaur shares its ancestry with a far older tradition that stretches back to cave art from Crete’s Neolithic period. Once upon a time, in the earliest years of the Bronze Age, mighty Minoa, the greatest trading power in the Aegean, worshipped a divine star being who allegedly came to Earth to live among them.
Asterion literally means “star,” and the word is strongly associated with Bronze Age Minoan kings, who, in order to rule, were said to take the form of the Cretan bull of the sun.
The exact beliefs of Bronze Age Minoans can only be guessed, but archeologists have discovered bronze coins stamped with Asterion’s image. The coins often depict a kneeling bull-king along with a star-shaped flower and possibly the constellation Taurus. It is speculated the coins are attempting to show Asterion’s divine place on both Earth and amongst the stars.
Old stories are like coins—they always have two sides. Asterion is my side of the coin. It’s a highly speculative and purely fictional tale of a young woman’s encounter with one of the original Asterion....
Katalina Leon
Chapter 1
The Middle Bronze Age
Somewhere in the Aegean, between the Greek shoreline and the island of Crete
The morning’s brisk wind had stilled and the square sail on the tiny fishing skiff hung slack from the mast. A heavy layer of fog obscured the sun and any view of the horizon. The Aegean, which had been a brilliant blue when they left shore, had becalmed to a dark, glassy mirror that threatened to strand them at sea.
Larisa and Catullus floated on the current. To be adrift on the ocean yet see nothing beyond the mist was the loneliest feeling imaginable. How far had they traveled? She could not guess. How much farther had they to go? She did not care. Huddled at the front of the small craft, she glared at her captor as he attempted to row. Unfit for such demanding labor, Catullus dripped with sweat and groaned with every heaving tug of the oars. Any real progress from his exertions seemed unlikely. They could perish at sea and she would be fine with that outcome.
“Don’t give me the evil eye, girl.” Catullus spat over the railing. “It won’t work.”
Disgusting. She glanced away. It was all she could do to not retch every time she looked at his greasy face. Wily old Catullus was the village’s newly self-elected chief. He was stout and soft-limbed, and the journey was taking an obvious toll on his stamina. But Larisa couldn’t help him row even if she were so inclined. He’d bound her wrists tightly and tethered her to the boat to prevent her from leaping overboard and drowning herself.
The edges of the oars sank and were slow to reappear. The tiresome chore had purpled Catullus’s face and left the front of his tunic drenched. How long could he endure such an exhausting task? Closing his eyes, he grimaced in agony as the oars seemed to cling to the surface of the water, resisting his efforts. “By all the gods, I swear this boat is made of stone!”
Taking advantage of his distraction, she leaned over the side to dangle her bound wrists in the soothing water. Her long brown ringlets fell around her face like a veil. As she leaned farther, her movement caused the boat to dip.
His eyes flew open in alarm. “What are you doing?” He released the oars and yanked Larisa upright. “No tricks. I’ll not be cheated of my tribute to King Minos.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Do you really believe that showing up uninvited on the palace steps with an unsolicited sacrifice to the Minotaur is going to make you a great favorite with King Minos? The king only asks for sacrifices every seven years. This act only makes you look desperate.”
Catullus dismissed her comment with a rude snort. “There is a higher purpose to my plan, which I don’t expect you to understand. My time would be better spent in service to King Minos. I’m tired of living in a dusty little village, separated from the powerful world I should be part of.”
“You think only of yourself and you’re a traitor to your own village. What would King Minos want with your services?”
He held the damp tunic away from his chest and blew a cooling breath down his collar. “Battle with the wretched Aetolians reduced our village to a pathetic rabble of witless women, children, and frail old men.” He wet his thick lips with his tongue. “We can’t survive another surprise attack. Given how brutally our neighbors have treated us, I’m strongly inclined to seek the favor and protection of King Minos. I’m certain he’ll welcome the added wealth from our realm—which I can now provide, thanks to the rich orchards and fields you forfeit. My generous gift of land and a virgin sacrifice for the Minotaur will no doubt earn me an honored residence within the palace. I’m looking forward to my new life, and I’m certain King Minos will be more appreciative of my refined qualities than the fools in our village.”
“What refined qualities? You truly think mighty King Minos is in need of another schemer to slobber at his feet? If he is, he’ll be delighted to meet you.”
“How dare you! I am your elder and chief.” Catullus flushed with rage. “You speak too freely and say too much—both poor qualities in a woman. I see now that I was far too lenient. I should have gagged you as well.”
She stomped her feet against the floor of the skiff in the vain hope she might kick a hole in the aging craft and sink it. “You stole my land! It’s not yours to give. I saw you cheat at lots and so did others. I was deliberately given the shortest straw.” A few good souls in the village had noticed the cheating too but were too intimidated by Catullus’s threats to say anything.
Thirst wore at her composure. Unspent emotion welled to the surface. Larisa looked away before tears streaked down her cheek. She’d already been tricked, robbed, and sentenced to death. The last thing she wanted to do was give Catullus the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
It grew darker. An oppressive fog hovered over the surface of the sea, turning the gray daytime sky to dusk. “You don’t even know where we’re going, do you? You’re just rowing with the current. How do you even know the tiny island we glimpsed on the horizon this morning was King Minos’s island? My father said Minoa was a two-day journey from our shore and that there were countless islands in the sea.”
“Don’t speak of your father!” Catullus snapped.
“Why? Could it be you dread to hear the truth? That my father, Chief of Kreios, was a braver man and better leader to our tribe than you’ll ever be?” Larisa stealthily slid her foot across the floorboards of the boat, hoping to catch her toe on an amphora of water and steal a sip before Catullus snatched it away, as he’d done all day. She licked her parched lips in frustration as she tried several times to reach the clay jar but failed.
Catullus protectively slid the amphora beyond Larisa’s reach. “What little water we have is reserved for me. I’m doing all the hard work.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to pay those fishermen we met this morning to row us to the island instead of stealing their boat?”
“Why pay a pair of greedy fishermen when I can do it myself?” Perspiration trickled down Catullus’s round neck. “Besides, I couldn’t allow you to tell your sad story to the fishermen and attempt to recruit their help.” He tapped a finger to his temple. “As you can see, I’ve thought of everything. It’s true that I am unaccustomed to the sea, but it is the slight price I pay for being a warrior of the mountains.”
“You’re no warrior!” A broken laugh burst free of her. “Your own son foolishly blurted out that you turned and fled from battle while the real warriors of our tribe stayed to fight and lost their lives. Ares said you hid inside a hollow log while the battle raged past. It was your cowardice that saved your life during the last devastating conflict with the Aetolians, not your swordsmanship. The sole reason anyone in our village would consider you chief is because you’re the last mature man left alive. It’s certainly not your valor that recommends you. My father and my betrothed, Alecto, died with honor. You have none.”
His jaw tensed as he hissed in disgust, “Shut your mouth, woman, before more snakelike lies slither out!”
“They’re not lies. It’s the truth!”
Catullus stopped rowing just long enough to focus a look of loathing on Larisa. “It didn’t have to be this way. I want you to know it was your vicious tongue that condemned you to the labyrinth. Think on that as the creature roars from behind, panting its hot breath, and snaps your limbs like bits of tinder caught in its teeth. If not for your steady stream of poisonous words, I might not have been forced to dispose of you. Had you respected my new station in life instead of railed against it, we might have peacefully lived together.”
How dare he propose such a sickening bargain? It would never happen. The labyrinth held less terror than the thought of Catullus’s clumsy embrace. “I’d rather die than share your bed.”
“You’ll get your wish. Your death is coming soon enough, you can be certain of that.” With his black gaze beady, Catullus dipped the oars back into the water and heaved against the resistant sea. “Before I hand you over to the Minotaur, maybe I’ll help myself to what Alecto never had the chance to claim on his wedding night.”
“Ugh.” A shudder of revulsion rippled up her spine. “Wouldn’t that ruin my value as a virgin sacrifice?”
“Would a grunting, bull-headed beast even know the difference as it rips its jagged teeth into your flesh?” Catullus paused for effect. “I think not.”
“A grunting beast? Are you referring to yourself? I already rejected you, remember?”
“Idiot.” He showed his yellowed teeth in an ugly smirk.
The boat scraped against a partially submerged rock. Larisa jumped. “What was that? We are in open water.”
Catullus appeared wary.
The fog evaporated. They drifted into a narrow inlet, coming into view of a gravel beach surrounded by towering sea cliffs. The surf lifted the skiff and, riding a single rough wave, the boat ran aground, ending their journey with a clattering jolt. The ocean current, if not Catullus’s lackluster rowing, had carried them to an island.
She looked up. On the cliff top overlooking the sea, a dazzling palace with painted columns and frescoed walls crowned the cliffs in majestic silence. The elegant palace was ablaze with colors that shimmered in vibrant shades of earthy red, golden ochre, turquoise, and green, and ornate patterns unlike anything she’d ever seen. “It’s so beautiful.” She stared in awe, noticing there were no living things, not a servant or even a seabird in sight. “And so lonely.”
“Where is everyone?” Catullus grumbled. “Do they not have an envoy to greet visiting dignitaries from the mainland?”
“You’re not a dignitary.” Larisa sniffed. “Perhaps they don’t welcome uninvited guests, and at this very moment have a row of hidden archers poised on those cliffs with their razor-tipped arrows aimed at your heart.”
Catullus gasped in horror and dropped to the floor of the boat to cower.
Larisa laughed at Catullus’s antics as he curled into a ball. “I’m sorry there’s no hollow log on this beach for you to hide inside.”
“You weren’t there.” Catullus swatted his hand at the air as if batting away troublesome memories. “You have no idea. The Aetolians are bloodthirsty brutes.”
“Yet my father and my dear Alecto and other brave men stood their ground and fought. That’s the only reason Kreios didn’t fall to the Aetolians. Ares told me he watched the men charge the enemy with swords slashing before he too ran off to search for you.”
The eerie lowing of a bull echoed between the rocks. The tiny hairs on the back of Larisa’s neck bristled as she scanned the cliff tops. “What was that?” A towering figure with the head of a bull appeared at the crest of the cliff, dressed in a flowing black robe; the horned figure remained still and seemed to be studying them.
Catullus glanced upward with bulging eyes. “The Minotaur?” His bottom lip quivered in terror as he scooted toward the back of the boat. “Is it possible the Minoans are doltish enough to allow such a vicious creature to roam freely?”
The horned figure lifted a wing-like sleeve high into the air and appeared to beckon them toward a staircase carved into the side of the cliff.
“It’s not the Minotaur, you fool.” Larisa thrust her wrists forward to be untied. “It’s some sort of priest wearing a mask. He wants us to climb the stairs.”
Catullus froze. “Perhaps this was a mistake. Maybe I should leave....” He reached for the oars and rowed backward, but the paddles merely scraped beach pebbles and the boat didn’t budge.
The priest addressed them from the cliff top in a booming voice. “Is the young woman a bride for the labyrinth?”
“Yes!” Catullus’s voice cracked, and his head bobbed in a ridiculous manner. He turned toward Larisa and mumbled, “Bride? A sacrificial ritual isn’t a wedding. What an odd way to phrase something so brutal. These Minoans are very strange people. I’m not sure I want to meet them.”
The priest pulled a golden dagger from its sheath and pointed the blade toward Catullus. “Bring her to the palace. The master shall judge you both.”
“Yes, my lord.” Catullus’s face collapsed with fear and he immediately unknotted the rope that tethered Larisa to the boat. “By all that’s dark in Hades, I don’t want to go up there! This place is so foreboding. I have a sickening feeling in the pit of my gut. This island is doomed. I want to leave—now.”
What a coward. “This was your idea. You brought me here to die. What did you expect?”
Catullus spoke through tensed lips. “I was hoping for something less intimidating, more along the lines of a festive royal court with feasting and dancing girls.”
Larisa rolled her eyes. “This is exactly what I was expecting.”
“Don’t delay.” The priest’s deep voice rang between the cliffs. “The master knows you’re here. Asterion waits.” He turned and walked away.
Catullus trembled as he stepped out of the shallow boat and offered Larisa his hand.
Larisa lifted her bound wrists expectantly. “Untie my wrists too.”
Catullus stared at the leather thong around Larisa’s wrists and shook his head. “I don’t dare. If you run away again, like you did in the village, I’m certain these people will kill me.”
“What you’ve done to me is wrong. I’m proud I gave you a hard chase. It’s not my fault you can’t run uphill.” She ignored Catullus’s offered hand and rose from the boat unassisted. “I’m thirsty. May I have water before I climb the staircase?”
“Now?” Catullus frowned. “Why bother? Your life will be over soon.” He unstopped the clay amphora, held it to his lips, and tipped his head back to swallow the last trickle.
From beneath their feet, a low vibration rose that echoed between the cliffs. A bull’s bellowing roar shook the earth from within the island and made the tiniest pebbles on the beach shiver.
Catullus dropped the empty jar to the ground, shattering it. “What was that? It sounded like it came from inside the island.”
“That sounds like doom to me.” Larisa’s lips curled into a slight smile. “The great difference between you and me is I’m not afraid to die. When I cross the River Styx, I’ll see my mother, father, and Alecto again. Who will you meet in Hades, other wretched souls? The many you’ve cheated at the market or betrayed? I’m certain you can expect to be seated beside the most miserable men in Hades’s cowards’ corner.”
“Shut your mouth and get moving.” Catullus took hold of the rope tether, still tied to Larisa’s bound wrists, and used it as a leash to drag her toward a twisting flight of steps carved into the cliffside.
“Slow down.” Larisa tugged against the tether as her sandaled feet crunched across the shifting rocks, but Catullus yanked her forward as if leading a stubborn mule. With her wrists tied in front of her, maintaining her balance with each uncertain stride became difficult. The hem of her linen tunic swept the mossy stones, soon becoming as damp and green as the many tidal puddles on the beach.
