Burke's stomach churned. It was all he could do to breathe. Was this the way his dream must end--here, now, before he'd even learned the secret he'd come after? Only then, as the blacks started forward, Ariadne spoke again: "No, guards! Don't kill him!" And slowly, calculatingly, dark eyes strangely brooding: "For this man says he's a god, and for such a blasphemer a quick death is too good. "So, let him live--to face my father, Minos!" CHAPTER V The place was called the Shrine of Oracles, Burke gathered. It featured distinctively Minoan pillars--of cypress, and so tapered as to be smaller at the base than at the top. Also, it stank with a peculiar, acrid odor. But beyond that, to Burke, it seemed disappointingly ordinary ... hardly colorful enough to rate the trial of a man accused of playing god. That is, so it appeared until his captors dragged him into a central room ... and there, black-browed and haughty, sat bearded Minos on his throne. A chill ran through Burke. Never had he seen such malevolence staring out of human eyes. For his own part, it would be the supreme test of his skill and daring if he even left this room alive. With all his heart, he wished he had the Smith & Wesson back. Lacking it, he'd have to rely upon his wits and play the scene by ear. And that brought up another nagging question: why had Ariadne insisted on possessing herself of the weapon? And why did she take such pains to stay well separated from him, with others of his captors always in between? Studying her now, it once again came home to Burke that she was indeed a strange, a tragic figure, for all her loveliness. For even here, in the presence of the mighty sea-king who was her father, her isolation showed up all too clearly. The guards, the priests, the nobles--as one, they walked wide around her, as if some mark of shame and menace were blazoned on her forehead. Perhaps-- But now Minos leaned forward upon his carved gypsum throne. "Well, blasphemer? How do you choose to die?" The monarch's voice echoed the black hatred of all mankind that gleamed with such intensity in his eyes. Burke forced himself to boldness. "Who says I blaspheme?" he demanded. "Do you deny it, then, dog?" King Minos came up from his throne in blazing fury. "Do you dare to say that the Princess Ariadne, my own daughter, lies?" "When she says I claim to be a god? No." Burke laughed harshly. And then, with sudden inspiration: "It's only the blasphemy I deny; not the godhood." "Not the godhood--?" Now Minos' eyes distended. A note of uncertainty crept into his voice. "You mean, you stand before me claiming kinship to the mighty ones, the lords of earth and sea and sky who rule men's destinies?" "Do you doubt it?" "Then name yourself, mocker! Who is it you claim to be?" With a strange sort of detachment, Burke found himself mentally flicking through the pantheon for some name that would fit well with his own. "Well, blasphemer?"