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“We’re below Central Park,” Maggy grinned at me now.
“Central Park?” How could that be? The ground beneath the park was made of the same rock as above, gneiss, and there had never been a Subway station there, as far as I knew.
“Do you know the big well with the female angel?”
“The Bethesda Fountain with the Angel of the Waters?” I asked, caught off guard.
"Yes, that's the one I mean. That statue is pretty much right on top of us," the blonde Amazon informed me, her eyes shining as rebelliously as my heart was beating. Only recently, at this fountain, had I learned from Chris that I was in danger. The statue with the angel being the shelter of the escaped women and an army of warriors could only be a sign of fate. A nineteenth-century sculptor made the bronze statue. She was the first woman who had ever received such a commission. The angel held lilies in her arms, symbolizing beauty and femininity.But other figures adorned the fountain. These symbolize peace, health, purity, and temperance. That might be why the Brotherhood had kept the statue, to remind the New Yorkers of their sins and the Knight's promises with the New World Order. It was almost ironic that just beneath this image of their so-called salvation, a volcano was melting that would eventually burst to the surface in a mighty explosion and threaten to destroy their rulership.
“Interesting location you’ve chosen there,” I laughed involuntarily.
"Actually, we didn't come up with this one ourselves," a strange voice suddenly explained from behind us. Aspasia's partner leaned over her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek before continuing. "Emma Stebbins, the sculptor, along with a few other influential and very clever women, had this hall and its tunnels secretly built under her well. Why they were so proactive at the time, we don't know, but it was built for women in need. There is even a fund through which all the supplies are financed. Contracts signed with the oldest bakeries, butchers, and cheese stores in the city on condition of absolute secrecy. If the secrecy is broken, the owners and their heirs lose all their assets on the stock market within seconds without knowing what happens to them. It is simply gone as if it had never been there. None of our suppliers know what the food is for. This information has only been passed down among the female descendants in these ladies' families."
"Myrina, may I introduce you to my wife? This is Emma Stebbins, a descendant of the aforementioned well digger and the one who, like Moses, led us to the promised land," Aspasia explained, laughing at my seemingly very astonished expression.
“Emma Stebbins?” I stammered.
"Not the original from 1815, of course, but my parents had a good hand in choosing the first name," the young womangrinned mischievously at me. "By the way, welcome to our circle. I've seen you fight, and I must say, you're a born Amazon. Well, with your name, the talent to be a warrior was probably laid in your cradle, just as leading the escaped ones here was in mine."
Once again, I felt a lump in my throat at the mention of my connection to an Amazon queen by name, and the images of my dream came too close to my inner eye again. Could this all still be a coincidence?
CHAPTER 25
Arustling sound startled me out of my sleep. Had I dozed off again? In retrospect, staying awake when you'd been up all night wasn't that easy. I thought it would be easier to compensate for the lack of sleep during the day without being noticed. But here, too, I was proven wrong.
Already for breakfast, my brothers had appeared, and this time, Chris was the one who had invited me for a walk in Central Park. However, we did not discuss our training and the Amazons because the park was surprisingly crowded. There was nowhere to retreat, not even to the secret cave in The Rumble.
When I finally returned from the walk, I wanted to go straight to the shower and lie on the bed. Then, it was my father who stopped me from the plan. He told me it had been a while since I had worked on my embroidery and that I could do it today. I was aware that Dad was only pointing this out to me because it was part of a woman's masquerade in this world to have new needlework pieces to show regularly. I rammed the needle into my fingers a few times while half asleep, and the purple flower didn't turn out very nice.
Now that I was finally lying on my eagerly awaited bed and surrendering to sleep, this rustling sound came.
I sleepily rubbed my face and blinked at the sunshine falling directly through the large window into my room. Aza stood by my wardrobe and put the laundry in the dresser.
"That tired, Miss?" the girl asked without turning to me.
"Yeah, I must have fallen asleep." My voice was a little scratchy from the brief, deep sleep I had slipped into as soon as I lay down. Quickly, I cleared my throat.
"I didn't sleep well last night. Then there was the walk in Central Park, which was more exhausting than I expected," I tried to explain why I was lying on the bed in the middle of the day, entirely out of it.
"I'm done here," she told me, standing up and picking up the basket from the floor. "Then you can go back to sleep. I'll make sure you're not disturbed again until dinner."
Quickly, she went to the door, and just before she opened it, my eyes fell on her face. I immediately jumped up and ran to her. I stared at the blue-green bruise on her right cheek with wide eyes.
"What happened there?" I asked, upset. Aza, however, tried to avoid me and slip out through the door into the hallway. At the last moment, I held her back by the arm and shut the room door again.
Promptly, I looked at her.
"Please tell me, Aza," I begged her. An uncertain smile was on her lips.
"I ran into a shelf this morning," she stammered with lowered lids.
I stared at her in disbelief. "Are you sure a piece of furniture caused this?" I eyed the injury suspiciously.
"Quite sure," the young woman replied, pressing the basket tighter against her body and finally lifting her eyes to observe me. "Really," she added. Her voice was firm, and I discovered only sincerity in her eyes.
"Go to sleep. There is nothing wrong with me." With these words, she pushed me toward my bed. Uncertainly, I looked over at her, but Aza was already disappearing out the door into the hallway. Hopefully, she had told me the truth. While I couldn't help her if someone had hit her after all, I could have talked to my father. Together, we would find a solution. I was sure of that.
Sighing, I lay down again on the soft blankets and pillows. I hadn't felt this exhausted in a long time. Of course, as a teenager, I had often partied the whole night with girlfriends or Alex, but worries carried more heavily than the carefree youth of those days.
