In Athens there lived the most brilliant inventor in Greece: Daedalus. Daedalus could make anything. His hands and his mind worked like magic. He invented tools no one had ever imagined, statues so lifelike they seemed alive, ingenious machines, marvelous buildings.

"Daedalus is a genius," everyone said.

He had a nephew named Talus, who was also very clever. But Daedalus was overtaken by envy. "What if Talus becomes better than I am?" he thought. And in one terrible moment, Daedalus pushed Talus from a cliff.

Talus died, and Daedalus was put on trial for his crime.

"You killed your own nephew out of envy," said the judges. "You must be exiled."

Daedalus fled Athens in shame. He sailed to Crete, a great island ruled by the powerful King Minos.

"Great king," said Daedalus, "I am the best inventor in Greece. I can create wonders for you."

"Prove it," Minos answered.

And Daedalus did. He created marvelous inventions for Crete, and Minos was so impressed that he gave him a house, riches, and respect. In Crete, at Daedalus's side, his son grew up — a boy named Icarus, who admired his father's inventions and dreamed of being an inventor too.

Then Minos gave Daedalus his greatest commission.

"Daedalus, my wife Pasiphae has given birth to a monster: the Minotaur, half man, half bull. I need a prison for him. But it cannot be an ordinary prison. It must be impossible to escape, so tangled that no one who enters can ever find the way out."

Daedalus thought, and had a brilliant idea.

"I will build a labyrinth," he said. "With so many corridors and so many turns that finding the exit will be impossible."

And so Daedalus built the famous Labyrinth of Crete.

The Labyrinth was a masterpiece. Thousands of corridors, all alike, full of forks and dead ends. Once inside, no one could find the way back. The Minotaur was placed at the center, and Minos began sending prisoners inside, where they lost their way and were devoured by the monster.

Daedalus became more famous still. But then Theseus came to Crete — the hero who, with Ariadne's thread, entered the Labyrinth, slew the Minotaur, and escaped.

King Minos was furious.

"Someone helped Theseus. Someone revealed the secret of the Labyrinth."

Minos suspected Daedalus.

"It was you. You taught Ariadne how to escape."

In truth, Daedalus had not given away the secret directly. But Minos would not listen.

"You betrayed me," the king roared. "To prison with you."

And Daedalus and Icarus were locked away in a high tower.

Daedalus looked out the tower window. It was far too high to climb down. Guards watched every door, and Minos controlled every ship.

"Father," asked Icarus, "how will we escape?"

Daedalus thought deeply.

"Minos rules the land and the sea," he murmured. "But he does not rule the air."

"The air?" said Icarus, puzzled.

"Yes. We will fly."

"But humans can't fly."

Daedalus smiled.

"Not yet."

Daedalus began to collect feathers. Birds flew close to the tower, and he gathered the feathers they dropped. Icarus helped, picking up each one with care. For weeks, the two of them collected feathers of every size.

Then Daedalus asked the guards for wax, saying it was for making candles. And he set to work. He sorted the feathers by size, from small to large. He fastened them with melted wax and thread onto a light frame. Slowly, the wings took shape.

Icarus watched in wonder.

"Father, we're going to fly like the birds."

"Yes," said Daedalus. "But listen carefully."

He took his son by the shoulders.

"Son, these wings are delicate. The wax that holds the feathers can melt. You must fly in the middle: not too high, not too low. If you fly too low, the sea spray will soak the feathers, and you will fall. If you fly too high, the heat of the sun will melt the wax, and the feathers will come loose. Do you understand? The middle way. Not too high, not too low."

Icarus nodded.

"Yes, Father. I understand."

"Promise me," said Daedalus.

"I promise. I'll fly in the middle."

Daedalus bound the wings to Icarus's arms, then fastened his own. They climbed onto the tower window. The wind was blowing.

"Follow me," said Daedalus. "Stay close."

And the two of them jumped.

For one terrifying instant, they fell. But then the wings caught the wind. They were flying.

"It works," shouted Icarus. "We're flying!"

They beat their arms like birds, and the wings held them up. They flew over the tower, over Crete, over the sea. Down below, fishermen looked up in amazement: were those giant birds, or gods?

Daedalus flew carefully, not too high, not too low.

"Icarus, follow me," he called.

At first, Icarus obeyed. He flew close to his father, at the right height. But then the excitement took hold of him.

"I'm flying," he shouted. "I'm like a bird. I'm like a god."

Pride grew in his heart. "I'm better than the birds," he thought. "I can fly higher."

"Icarus, no!" cried Daedalus. "Remember the warning."

But Icarus was not listening. He began to climb. Higher. Higher still.

"Icarus, come back. The sun..."

Icarus climbed higher and higher. The sun blazed above, and the heat grew. The wax began to soften. Then to melt. Drops of wax fell from the wings, and the feathers began to come loose, one by one.

"Icarus, your wings," cried Daedalus, desperate.

At last Icarus understood. He looked at his wings: feathers falling, wax running.

"Father! Help!"

The wings came apart. Feathers scattered in every direction. And Icarus fell.

"Father!" was his last cry.

"Icarus!" cried Daedalus, in anguish.

But there was nothing he could do. Icarus fell, and fell, and fell, and plunged into the sea. The waves closed over him. The boy disappeared beneath the water, and he did not come back.

Daedalus flew in circles, calling his son's name. He came down as low as he dared. He saw feathers floating on the water, but no sign of Icarus. His son was gone.

"Why didn't you listen to me?" Daedalus wept. "Why did you fly so high?"

He found Icarus's body carried in by the waves. He bore it to the nearest island and buried him there, in silence, with tears. The island came to be called Icaria, in memory of Icarus. And the sea around it is called the Icarian Sea to this day.

Daedalus flew on, but without joy now. He flew carefully, not too high, not too low, until he reached Sicily. King Cocalus welcomed him.

"Stay," said Cocalus. "You will be my inventor."

Daedalus stayed, but he was never the same. He created other wonderful inventions, but every time he saw birds in the sky, he remembered Icarus. "My son," he thought. "If only you had listened to me."

In time, King Minos discovered where Daedalus was and sailed to Sicily to demand him back. But Cocalus protected the inventor, and Minos never managed to take him.

Daedalus lived many years. He never flew again. He never forgot Icarus. His inventions became famous throughout Greece, but he would have traded them all to have his son back.

"The greatest invention in the world," he said, "is not worth the life of a child."