Page 75 of A Girl and HER Prince
Venice remembered that was the time when his uncle had first tried to assassinate his cousin, Helena.
This was like finding a teenage girl’s diary outlining every time she’d sneaked out of the house to meet up with a boy, except this was full of hit lists, those who’d wronged him, and maybe the name or two of the best getaway drivers in Tirreoy. In his uncle’s neat script, he’d written: “Details matter.”
Idiot! They could pin Atreus Mnon and his cronies to the wall with this!
“What are you doing?”
Venice glanced up from the desk to see Livvy had come in with her latest admirer. The donkey gave him a cheerful, honking greeting. Livvy held a first aid kit in one hand, her eyes on his bandages. There’d be time for that later. First, they needed to leave the dust of this place behind.
Venice pulled away from the desk, stuffing the incriminating papers, along with the ledger next to the blankets in Steve’s pack. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Livvy tried to catch her breath. The disturbing shock of sleeping in the home of the enemy wouldn’t leave her. These were the ones who’d tormented Venice’s family ruthlessly for decades, and she’d waltzed right in and come out wearing their clothes!
Venice had tried to explain the danger while they distanced themselves from their warped Paradise in the Clouds as fast as they could on a steep, twisting pathway that led down from the mountain to the beach. “It’s my uncle… my uncle!” He shook his head. Even after they’d been attacked, she hadn’t seen Venice so shaken. “I’m surprised he didn’t stick around so he could see my cold lifeless body for himself.”
The hurricane that had seemed such a curse was now a blessing. If Venice and Livvy had stumbled over the Myrdons and tried to flag them down while telling their story, they would have been taken hostage or killed.
Steve let out pleasant braying noises, completely oblivious to the fact that his owners were psychopaths. Livvy carefully guided the cheerful donkey by his halter, while BamBam and Ronnie followed behind. The pathway down the mountain was harder than coming up on those cable cars. The donkeys were perhaps the only ones who knew what they were doing. They easily picked through the deep rivulets of water streaming past their hooves. The potholes were caused by flooding and other assorted rubble left behind by the storm, the earthquake, the flooding.
What was this, Armageddon? They splashed through the muddy streams and puddles until they reached the beach. The roar of the Aegean Sea pummeled against the breaker in the distance.
Her sandals sank into the cold white sand, still wet from the heavy rainfalls. Even with this blustering wind, the temperatures had climbed to the mid-60s. Nothing close to the usual August weather, and still Livvy had worked up such a sweat that she tugged off her stolen jacket.
Venice marched ahead to check out the sheds and other structures they’d spotted from above. They desperately hoped these were boathouses. There was a cement road leading to launching sites at the end of the water; there had to be vessels that would go out into it.
“The weather’s good for sailing,” Venice said. “I’ll get whatever boat they have up and running. I don’t care if its engine’s gutted and it’s dead in the water… I’ll get a sail on it and find paddles if that’s what it takes to get us out of here.”
Livvy wasn’t feeling as confident, but she’d do anything to get out of the way of these terrorists, and if they found a working boat, all the better. Venice approached the first shed. Using the pickax he’d taken from the barn, he shattered the lock with a loud crash and broke in.
At first glance, there was no boat, though there was an empty spot where onehadbeen stored. They searched for a radio next—nothing. No way out, not even some plywood that they could steal to hobble together their own boat.
From what she’d seen in the Paradise in the Clouds, there was a landing pad where Venice’s uncle must’ve escaped the hurricane on a helicopter, so why were the boats missing too, unless the staff had taken those? And yet, it seemed more dangerous to go out on the water than to weather the storm. Could the Myrdons have been gone much longer than a few days?
But that didn’t explain the donkeys. They were so well groomed and friendly—they couldn’t have been left on their own for long.
Venice’s jaw tightened as they headed for the next buildings—with the same disappointing results. There was a heavy-duty forklift. “You think that floats?” he asked morosely. A quick search showed that there was no radio in there either.
The final structure stood a little farther off from the others, and was closer to the beach. It was white cement and had a rounded ceiling. “What’s that?” Livvy asked.
“A pretentious, extravagant hobby,” Venice growled. Clearly, his bitterness had reached a snapping point. “I guess these filthy-rich traitors can’t spendalltheir time plotting murders—they’ve made a replica of an ancient Greek boatyard. How fun for them.”
“I hope that means they have a boat in there,” Livvy said.
He didn’t answer, only heaved up the pickax and splintered the lock with one swing.
Livvy held her breath. He needed to be careful not to reopen his injuries—the exertion from climbing had opened them before. “Venice! Don’t hurt yourself.”
He threw down the pickax and kicked in the door. It crashed open, and he stalked through.
Livvy turned to Steve—the donkey’s ears were perked in alarm. “It’s okay.” She led him to a tree with the other donkeys. “Stay… stay…” She realized she was talking to him like he was a dog, but that’s what he was to her right now. She tied the ends of the halter around the tree. “Good boy.”
She followed Venice into a gargantuan cement… tunnel—at least that’s what this ancient boatyard appeared to be. Planks of lumber and woodworking tools hung against the walls. It smelled of pine in here. “Even if we don’t find a boat…” her voice trailed off when she saw the sleek ship ahead of them.
“It’s a Homeric galley,” Venice said.
She noticed all the holes meant for the rowers—they’d need ten on each side. “Unless you think there’s a navy of men just sitting around ready to paddle this thing…”
