“Do you believe in the Minotaur?” Andreas asked.
Believing in the Minotaur went against everything his parents wanted for him. They favored facts, structure, and proven methodologies. While they supported his career, they preferred the stability and prestige that came from working in the museum rather than toiling in the dirt and sun. They also often struggled with his love of mythologies and fantasies. Things they thought of as nothing more than entertainment.
“I didn’t before, but now I’m starting to,” Theo said.
“You said your papou told you about the eye? How does he know about it?” Andreas asked.
“I’m not sure, exactly,” Theo said, recalling one of the many discussions he’d had about it with his grandpa. “He said a friend told him about it when he was visiting Crete as a young man. But he passed away years ago.”
“Where was he from?”
“A small fishing village. Perdika.”
Andreas stared at him like he’d seen a ghost.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Theo asked, glancing around the room. Had he missed something?
“My yayá…she always talks about her first true love from Perdika. I always thought it was just something she said to irritatemypapou whenever he made her angry. But maybe…”
Andreas let his voice trail off as Theo thought back to what Lydia had said to him. How she’d thought he’d looked familiar.
Something about Andreas seemed familiar, too.
“What? Now why areyoulooking atmelike that?” Andreas asked.
“Lydia. She said I reminded her of someone. And my papou…this was his,” Theo said, reaching under his collar and pulling out the medallion. Andreas looked at the symbol etched on the pendant and then back at Theo.
“What was your grandfather’s name?”
“Zeno.”
Now Andreas eyes went wide. “My father, my yayá’s firstborn…his name is Zeno.”
They paused. Did this mean…?
“Wait,” Andreas said, walking across the room and pullingTheo from his thoughts. He scanned the pictures hanging on the wall before settling on one of a large group and then taking it down. He brought the photo over to Theo and pointed at a man. “This is from our latest family reunion. And here’s my dad.”
Theo gazed into the photo—it was like seeing his papou’s ghost. He then looked up and Theo and Andreas stared at each other, both clearly coming to the same conclusion: his papou was Lydia’s first love.
And they might be cousins.
That must have been how his papou had come across the medallion. And it explained why their family always celebrated with raki—a Cretan drink—despite his papou growing up on the mainland.
“Do you think…do you think maybe your papou wanted you to find us?” Andreas asked. “Maybe that’s why he told you the story of the eye and why you have that necklace?”
Every conversation Theo had ever had with his papou whirled through his brain. He racked his mind, trying to remember bits and pieces of his grandfather’s life. Where he was from. When he’d visited Crete. Whether he’d ever mentioned anyone named Lydia or another lover before his grandma.
“What if we were to find it together?” Andreas continued.
The book with the photo of the clay pot caught his eye again. What if…?
No, they needed to leave.
“What about your friend at the embassy?” Theo said. “We’re supposed to go home.”
“I told her that I had American friends in trouble, but I did not say who you were. She said when you are ready, I’m to call and she will arrange an escort to the embassy. The minute your name is out there, however, there is no going back.”
Theo didn’t need Andreas to spell it out for him. Anyone knowing his whereabouts could put him—and Dani—back in danger.
