𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑫 • 𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐶𝑌 𝐽𝐴𝐶𝐾𝑆𝑂𝑁 [2]

X

No one was anxious to travel that night, so they decided to wait until morning.

Everyone found various spots to crash in Geryon's living room, which included his couches and  shaggy carpet (that was still infected with his dusty remains despite their best efforts to vacuum).

It reminded Elaine of the sleepovers she'd have with her cousins when they were younger and got along. The leather couches were much more comfortable than a bedroll in the maze; but it didn't make her nightmares any better.

She stood at the top of a stone tower, overlooking rocky cliffs and the ocean below. The old man Daedalus was hunched over a worktable, wrestling with some kind of navigational instrument, like a huge compass. He looked years older than when she'd last seen him. He was stooped and his hands were gnarled. He cursed in Ancient Greek and squinted as if he couldn't see his work, even though it was a sunny day.

"Uncle!" a voice called.

A smiling boy about twelve years old came bounding up the steps, carrying a wooden box.

"Hello, Perdix," the old man said, though his tone sounded cold. "Done with your projects already?"

"Yes, Uncle. They were easy!"

Daedalus scowled. "Easy? The problem of moving water uphill without a pump was easy?"

"Oh, yes! Look!"

The boy dumped his box and rummaged through the junk. He came up with a strip of papyrus and showed the old inventor some diagrams and notes. None of it made any sense to Elaine, but Daedalus nodded grudgingly. "I see. Not bad."

"The king loved it!" Perdix said. "He said I might be even smarter than you!"

"Did he now?"

"But I don't believe that. I'm so glad Mother sent me to study with you! I want to know everything you do."

"Yes," Daedalus muttered. "So when I die, you can take my place, eh?"

The boys' eyes widened. "Oh no, Uncle! But I've been thinking ... why does a man have to die, anyway?"

The inventor scowled. "It is the way of things, lad. Everything dies but the gods."

"But why?" the boy insisted. "If you could capture the animus, the soul in another form ... well, you've told me about your automatons, Uncle. Bulls, eagles, dragons, horses of bronze. Why not a bronze form for a man?"

"No, my boy," Daedalus said sharply. "You are naïve. Such a thing is impossible."

"I don't think so," Perdix insisted. "With the use of a little magic—"

"Magic? Bah!"

"Yes, Uncle! Magic and mechanics together—with a little work, one could make a body that would look exactly human, only better. I've made some notes."