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sailor’s skill I thought might have some entertainment value for those who never venture near the sea.”
    â€œAnd how did you happen to get into conversation with the ship’s captain?”
    â€œHe’s from Crete too, and naturally we got to talking. You’d get along well with him, John, since he’s a former military man like yourself. He’s given to wagering, I discovered. Not surprising, though, is it? As he observed, every sailor wagers his life on winds and tides.”
    â€œTrue enough,” John replied uneasily. So far as he was concerned the knucklebones were rolled the hour he stepped aboard a ship, and kept rolling with the waves until his boots trod dry land again.
    â€œI placed a wager with him myself. It hinged on whether or not he could extricate himself if I were to tie him up.”
    â€œUsing that knot he showed you? Perhaps it’s easily undone despite its elaborate appearance?”
    â€œNo. I was to tie him any way I wanted.”
    John looked thoughtful. “So you’ve been busy tying up the captain?”
    Cornelia laughed. “Indeed! When he mentioned this trick had won him more than a few coins, I thought it would be useful to learn. An incantation or two and the captive is free. It would be most impressive. Magick is always popular.”
    John smiled to himself. They had only been at sea a few hours and already Cornelia was making plans. “You’re thinking you can resume your old career, and Peter and I might join you? If only it could be so! And what happened with Nikodemos?”
    â€œOh, he escaped without any difficulty!” Cornelia clapped her hands and rocked backwards on her precarious perch. “I lost the wager, but it was a small price to pay for learning the trick.”
    â€œHe explained how it was done?” John’s mouth went dry as a large swell caused the ship to lurch and Cornelia with it.
    â€œAfter I told him I wanted to use it for an act to be called the Nikodemos Mystery Escape. He was flattered, you see, when I explained the idea would be he was captured by pirates…”
    The deck creaked as the Minotaur lurched abruptly. Cornelia gave a cry and began to topple backwards.
    John leapt forward and grabbed her. Suddenly her weight was pressed against him. He staggered backwards, arms around her.
    His heart was in his throat. “You almost fell into the sea,” he managed to say.
    She smiled up at him. “When you ride bulls you learn how to fall in whatever direction you wish, just as when you travel with a troupe, you learn to make a home wherever you find yourself.”

Chapter Six
    Anatolius lit the terra-cotta lamp on the table by the door of John’s study. The flame illuminated what the gathering twilight beyond the diamond-paned windows did not. The room was sparsely furnished. A table, a scattering of three-legged stools, a desk, all guarded by a solemn-eyed little girl John called Zoe, who now glowered at him from her wall mosaic.
    â€œSorry to barge in when John’s away,” Anatolius said to the mosaic girl. “I suppose I’ll end up talking to you myself if I stay in this house long enough. In fact, as you see, I already am.”
    He felt like a snail in a strange shell. He told himself to make a note of the image, then remembered he no longer wrote poetry.
    The odor of burnt verse haunted the air.
    Lighting lamps was a task for John’s servants. Unfortunately, Peter had left with his master and Hypatia was assisting at Samsun’s hospice, which was still overwhelmed by plague victims. The only person left in the house besides Anatolius was Europa. She had taken to her room as soon as her mother and Peter had left, according to Hypatia. If she had emerged during the day, Anatolius hadn’t seen her.
    He was aware of Zoe staring at him. The shifting firelight brought her glass eyes to life.
    â€œHave you seen her,