Five: Coercion

Narcissus

The boy, Icarus, closes his eyes, in recollection or confusion - I don't know. I study him then, his face though boyish shows signs of knowledge that he shouldn't have. Admittedly, underneath the injuries, he's got an appealing face (and I hate to flatter). But at the same time there's a starved quality in him, as if he'd been imprisoned somewhere. Perhaps it has something to do with his fear of the king of Crete, or maybe he was locked in and babied by his father too much. I wouldn't be surprised; it's the ones that love us that are usually most cruel.

He opens his eyes.

'It's a long story,' he mutters.

'Well it's not like I'm planning on sleep!' I reply, laughing. Seriously though, it's not every day someone falls from the sky, can you blame me for being curious? The power of gossip. It's a strange thing, and if people ask questions, I need to be in the know on what and what not to tell them.

'Ok', he replies and seems to brace himself,

'My Dad is an incredible architect, best around, and King Minos is, well, big-headed. He needed the best, so he hired the best. I went along – Dad didn't have anyone else. Mum's dead and Dad's alone.'

He pauses.

'Well, you know those toys, the ones with a ball or pebble you have to guide around the maze? Well, my Dad's actually the one who invented those. He was really bored one day apparently. But anyway King Minos saw one of his kids playing with something like it and said "Hey, Daedalus, I want a giant one of those." So he was put in charge of building it. Minos called it his Labyrinth. It was crazy, we were the only ones who knew the way out and that was only because we had built it so meticru- meticulu – carefully.'

It's almost funny, the way he stutters around larger words, as if they don't quite fit his mouth yet, placed there by an education he wasn't ready for.

'But I was with Dad every second. He taught me everything he knows. I was being apprenticed you see – '

Here his voice catches, as if he's already given up on his future. It's sad to watch, how his boyish pride disappears to a quiet resignation.

'When Dad finished, the king put a beast in it. We didn't know anything about it till it was too late. Some days you could feel the floor shake the beast was that awful,' he shudders; the beast was in the room again – at least for him.

'We were locked up,' his voice is small. I want to speak but to say anything would interrupt the babble of words falling out of his mouth, the most he's spoken to anyone since he got here.

'It was too dangerous for us not to be, apparently. Anyway, its been years since then; we circled round and round the tower. There was nowhere else to go. But then, once every year Minos takes us out to… to see…'

He flinches. Whatever he's thinking about it was obviously a traumatic experience. He's trailed off disconcertingly, and his eyes glaze over. I'm about to rouse him when his gaze snaps awake, and he's staring directly at me with an intensity I've only seen in a wild boar about to be fatally struck.

'You know they say goldfish go mad if they're put in a circular bowl, the same's true for humans. Or at least that's what dad thought.'

Icarus

'I could see it in his eyes too, the way he stared out across the ocean, then back at the walls with eyes like hooks, just searching, searching for any way out. He was like that for months. Silent most of the time. Then suddenly he woke me in the middle of the night, shook me hard, I thought it was an earthquake, that I might die, then I saw his eyes shining, just like the jewels the king wears,

"Minos may be king of the land and sea, but the sky remains unclaimed. That's how we'll make our escape, son!"

'He started on the wings the next day, drawing up designs, baiting every bird that passed the window in the day with the rotten fish we were given to eat, and stitching till his hands were bleeding at night. Feather by feather, Dad built us both a pair of wings, held together by the wood from the floor and the wax of the cheap candle stubs we were thrown.

I never thought it could actually work. "If men were meant to soar with the gods, wouldn't they have been born with wings?" I thought.

But we practiced and tested and failed and tried again and then one day, Dad flew, and soon after I followed. My brain was going round in circles all over again, we were flying for gods' sake! He warned me though… but I wasn't really listening. She… the Sun was too bright, Helios and all of his wives… It was only when I felt like I was in Her arms... I realised that wax melts...and skin burns... and...well... you know the rest.'

I take a deep shaky breath, trying not to remember falling to my almost-death in too much detail. My gaze lifts from the kylix I've been running my finger round.

The same teal eyes that stared at me when I woke up stare at me now with a weird frowny confused look.

'Wow. That's a story if I ever heard one,' he states with a serious smile, one that seems all the right shades of comforting and charming at the same time –

'It's not just a story. It's my life.' I say, blunt.

I'm annoyed? My gaze drops again. An awkward pause.

'You seem angry about something. Care to share?'

Narcissus' silky voice coos and cradles through my ears – he sounds as good as he looks - not that I'd ever admit that – I mean who does this guy think he is? Making me think about things I'd rather forget...

'What's with all the questions? I thought you said this would be a two-way conversation?'

Questions of my own are spilling out now, like the wine from the cup in my fist.

'Who are you, Narcissus? Where did you come from?'

Why am I so angry? Accusing him of what, curiosity? Charming…ness?

'What about you Narcissus? Were you locked up? Were you abandoned? Did you ever have the world not revolve around you? What's your life story?!'

The fierceness of my own words hits me like a brick, but I'm stunned into silence, not by myself, but by the look on his face.

Narcissus

His words seem to shatter the perfect facade that had always held so fast in but an instant.

I pause, concentrating whilst my head whirls and swirls with a ferocity that makes me almost dizzy. Funny, I haven't even finished this cup of wine. Finally, words open up my mouth,

'There's not much to tell.'

Head averted, I pretend to study the mosaic littering the floor.

'Come on', he wheedles, voice ringing with triumphant smugness, 'there's got to be something.'

It really is a beautiful mosaic.

'Seriously though, with a face like yours.'

…I'm not vain or anything. I repeat: I am not vain. But even so a man likes to be admired.

'To be honest, I don't notice people really,' I tell him,

'Only the extraordinary ones, and to be honest, there really aren't many of them. I remember one though, she was a girl, a little nymphet that went by the name Echo or something odd like that; I don't know. Anyway, she followed me. Very annoying actually – just wouldn't shut up – although at least at first she could talk for herself. After a while she became so besotted that she could only repeat whatever I said. I don't know what happened to her, for all I know I might have killed her. I was in love myself you see, so I wasn't going to waste time with such a pest.'

I barely spare a glance for the horrified look that is probably on his face. Good. Maybe it'll teach him for prying into my personal affairs.

But then something strange…comes over me. Some wave of longing of… I'm not sure what. All I know is that my brain for some strange reason wishes to keep speaking, and words that are only half mine slip from my tongue,

'I know it's insane but sometimes… I think I hear her voice. Faintly, oh very faintly. The ones that love us never leave us I guess.'

I throw back my wine,

'I might just be being a bit egotistical there though.'

Icarus

His face crumbles in front of my eyes. Not literally, obviously, that would be creepy, but something in him… breaks. Or more like, falls apart again after being stuck back together so many times.

"I might have killed her but I don't know..."

The way he says that so casually – like a person's life doesn't mean anything more than some sacrifice – leaves a chill in my stomach, like I swallowed a beach pebble and its just sitting there refusing to move. But his words, the matter-of-fact statements –

"I wasn't going to waste time with her..."

– he's not trying to sound evil, I realise. He's just cold, forcing words to mean nothing because he has too much feeling to know what to do with. Not like Minos. More like Dad. Uses the exact same voice whenever I ask if he misses Mum.

"Sometimes I think I hear her voice... the ones that love us never leave us..."

He only lifts his head to empty his cup – how'd he drink that so fast? He smirks. I can't do much so I bite my lip just to feel less awkward.

'That would explain the talking to yourself, then,' I blurt, copying his fake light-ness.

He raises his eyebrows, his sea-gaze a sharp reply. All of sudden his lips curve in what almost looks like a real smile,

'Yes. That would explain it.'

He laughs before standing and stretching, biceps and triceps and all those other muscles flex and flicker in the dim candlelight. The dawn breaks outside the window, light stained sky signalling Her coming. But for once, the shadow seems more… just, more.

The shadows in the forest, I can't stop thinking about them. The only bit of light then was his face staring at the face in the lake.

'Why do you refuse to love others?' my mouth speaks my mind.

Shit. Dad always says I talk too much.

Narcissus turns away.

'It's funny you should say I refuse to.' His voice is low, like he's daring me to challenge him more,

'Why the sudden change in conversation? Matters of the heart… what makes you a love expert all of a sudden?'

'Well,' I carry on even though I don't really know where my words are going,

'I know that it's in our nature as humans. To love other humans.'

Dad is always telling me that for some reason.

'And you just… don't seem very… able to. At least, I don't think you love anyone real.'

A pause. A silence that lasts longer than it probably is. I don't expect him to reply. I don't know why I ever did –

Narcissus

'Why in hades do you think I don't?' it comes out harsher than expected.

A loud clatter comes from the other side of the table, and I realise it's the kylix he's holding. Was holding. The boy – Icarus – is now clinging onto the side of the table for dear life – tense – as if ready to scarper at any moment.

I need to calm myself. I cannot let insecurity show, especially not in front of someone so weak himself.

What would that make me?

After all, their concern, their accusations, their scorn, means nothing to me.

He is real. That is a fact.

Just because they have no power in discerning the visions only reserved for the likes of gods. Of course, this child would be ignorant.

'My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you.' I mutter, staring into the empty crevices of my own cup.

'Of course I've loved… humans and maybe it is natural. But when cupid intercedes what choice do we have?'

It's only a half lie. It will do. He looks confused. Like he can't decide whether to ask more questions or sit there looking… is that sympathy?

Pity.

Is he sorry… for me? How dare he? The likes of him, giving me that look… unless…

Does he know?

How much did he see by the lake earlier? He must have seen. I had been wondering. He wouldn't be asking all of his silly questions if he hadn't. Did he see me…doing that? Moreover, did he see my love's face?

I thought only I could see him.

Strangely enough though, the thought brings me some comfort. Someone else to affirm reality. Even if it is this odd boy who fell from the sky.

Speaking of the sky, pink clouds have started to fade into white already – we've been up a long time. I brush past him, gingerly pinching a dishrag that some slave has left to dry and throw it on the wine spill. I'll have to get them to clean up his mess before it sets – they should be up soon anyway.

'Look, kid, I'm sorry. About your dad. I am curious though, does he come with a name?"

The look of pain that overcomes Icarus' face makes even me wince, and that wasn't what I'd been aiming for.

He mumbles something utterly unintelligible.

'What?' I ask,

'I can't hear you.'

'Daedalus,' he replies more sure of himself, chin stuck up in childlike arrogance.

Icarus

'Daedalus.'

Narcissus' face goes hard. He looks as wound up as I feel. Just the thought of my dad makes me feel like I'm freefalling again, a seasick slap from a concrete ocean. But I can't fall apart. Not again. For all his kindness this guy has already seen enough of my weakness. Dad told me to never let them know the "inner workings of your mind" and I've already failed miserably. Not that I'm probably ever going to see Dad again, Greece is bloody huge and I wish I'd listened more when he told me which route we were taking. And even if I did remember, where would I get the money to travel, where would I stay? Food, water, clothes, not to mention the fact Minos is still out to get my ass-

'Daedalus.' I state a third time, to no one in particular, just trying to make things feel better, as if saying his name helps...

'You know,'

I glance up to a face that seems only half sure of itself and I'm surprised. It's the last look I'd expect on this guy's face. He carries on,

'I may – or may not – have crossed paths with this Daedalus before. I believe a relative of mine hired an architect of such a name when –'

He cuts himself off weirdly, but he's back on track in a split second.

'A while ago. Although it could be another person altogether..."

I don't wait for the offer, or even to find out if there was one. Dad always said "seize the day."

'So you'll help me? You'll help me find him?'

It's way too bold from me, but what have I got to lose? To him I'm just a stupid child, but one thing I've learnt is that anything and everything can be used as a weapon. After all, what kind of person would he be if he left a "child" weak and helpless to fend for himself?