“The pool is a way out when the closet is closed. The Minotaur won’t go in so can’t leave.”
A thought occurred to Mike. “If there’s a Labyrinth and a Minotaur guarding it, then what is in the Labyrinth?”
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but I have no idea.” Jenny stopped. “Every time I got close to the middle, I would get kicked out. I don’t know how.”
“How do you not know how you got kicked out?”
“I would turn a corner or crawl through a hole and find myself outside.” Jenny frowned. “Even if I was on the other side of the river.”
“River?” That hadn’t been on any of the maps.
“Yeah. The river circles the middle. It changes all the time.” Jenny grabbed Mike’s hand. “Come. I’ll show you!” Pulling hard, she started a brisk jog. Mike followed, noticing how cold Jenny’s hands were.
The caves slowly descended, opening up into the largest underground chamber he had ever seen. Below them, the Labyrinth waited; miles of twists and turns shifted like a bagful of snakes. The trail they were on consisted of switchbacks that terminated on the hard, flat ground at the bottom. A path that went by a reflecting pool led them up to the gate. He half expected to see it open like it had last time, the Minotaur waiting for them when they had chased Jenny here last week. However, the gate remained sealed. Nearly thirty feet high and made of iron, it was decorated with interlocking rings.
“So how do we open it?” Mike asked.
“Like this!” Jenny moved closer to the gate and stepped onto a decorative slab that Mike hadn’t noticed before. It was emblazoned with an identical ring pattern to the gate. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good!”
The gate rumbled, swinging slowly open before them.
Mouth agape, Mike stared at Jenny. “Seriously? That’s the secret password to get in?”
“No. You just have to step on the slab. The Labyrinth is happy to have your bones.” Jenny stepped off. Standing next to Mike, she took his hand in her own, clutching his fingers tightly.
“Holy shit,” Mike whispered, waiting for the massive gate to finish opening, his free hand clutching the dagger.
Tink had told him that the Minotaur had a large ax. Would it come at him, swinging from above? Or would it charge him, horns aiming for his gut? Should he step to the side and stab it, confront it head on, or maybe even hide in the shadows and take the stealthy approach? His mouth suddenly dry, Mike realized that he was staring into the Labyrinth proper. Long stone corridors covered in bioluminescent moss branched off in several different directions. Mike and Jenny stepped inside, looking around.
“Which way from here?” Mike looked around. “Any ideas?”
“Straight, right, right, left, jump.” Jenny cocked her head. “But the maze changes, like a woman’s mind or a rainbow in July.”
“Well. I guess that settles it.” Mike walked forward. In the distance, he heard the call of the Minotaur, a challenge cried across the wall. “I think you should go back, let Beth have her body back.”
“No take backs,” Jenny informed him.
Mike spun on his heels, his teeth clenched. “We had a deal! You would use Beth to help me get here and go back.”
“No take backs,” Jenny repeated, staring back the way they had come.
The giant gate had disappeared, leaving behind a wall of stone. Mike’s jaw dropped, and he ran to the wall and placed his hands on the stone. “How is this possible?” he asked.
In answer, the Minotaur called out again, this time much closer.
“Straight.” Jenny walked past Mike, then started skipping. “Straight, straight, away from the gate! The Minotaur is coming; he wants a date!”
“Aw, shit,” Mike muttered, jogging behind to keep up.
Jenny’s arms swung wide, and each time she skipped, she covered an impossibly long distance. The hard brick path created sharp footfalls, echoes that chased him.
“Right!” Jenny made a sharp right, disappearing.
Mike tripped, barely keeping his feet beneath him. Stumbling to a halt, he saw a small recess in the wall that he would have missed. Walking into it, he found himself in a circular corridor.
Behind him, the Minotaur called out.
Mike ran to catch up to Jenny. She was still skipping but was now doing it backward, her hair bouncing against her breasts. They did this for almost a quarter of a mile, Mike’s legs burning with the exertion, sweat beading along his brow. Jenny didn’t seem to be having any issues. Mike wondered if her control over Beth’s body allowed her to avoid fatigue.
“Right, right, stop at the light!” Jenny came to a sudden halt, arms outstretched. Mike nearly ran her over, stepping to the side at the last second. Jenny grabbed Mike’s wrist and pulled, swinging him in a large circle. They both collapsed to the ground just as the path ahead erupted in flames, streams of fire spraying from nozzles hidden in the wall.
“Holy shit!” Mike watched as the glowing moss was torched away. “This place has booby traps?!”
“It’s not just a maze,” Jenny told him.
Her body was pressed against his, with Mike on top. He was suddenly aware of her legs wrapped around his waist. Looking down into her darkened eyes, he flinched when she kissed his nose.
“It’s also a giant trap,” she added.
“A trap for what?” Mike asked.
“For the curious, the brave, the daring!” Jenny turned her head. “The center is that way. If the others are alive, they will be that way.”
“What makes you so sure?” Mike asked, standing and pulling Jenny to her feet.
“They say that flowing water creates a gateway to the spirit world, and I can feel the river flowing. The Minotaur is scared of the water.” Jenny walked over to the wall. “He is not, however, scared of fire.”
“That’s good to know.” Mike watched Jenny step into the stone. This time, it was like looking at a fucked-up Magic Eye painting—she appeared to be touching the stone, and then it moved back several feet to allow her entry. Following her, he saw that the stones were slightly larger than the closer stones, giving the illusion that they were the same distance away. This time, they could go left or right.
“Which way?” Mike asked.
“Right, of course!” Jenny took off again, and Mike followed.
Kali closed her eyes this time, letting her magic surge along the crack she had found. The last time she’d tried to peel it open, the ensuing flash had blinded her. Each time she struck the flaw in the geas’s boundary, it gave just a little bit more.
Elation flooded her. No spell on Earth was perfect, and she was very surprised that some sort of countermeasure hadn’t been enabled yet. Clearly, the geas had been cast from roughly where she stood; that was part of the magic. A large crack had formed across the sky, a crack that emitted sparks and fire every time she struck.
However, she was tiring. She was using a combination of six different spells to reach into that gap and had discovered that the geas was trying to repair the damage she was causing. That meant she needed not only total concentration but to dip into some of her magical reserves. She didn’t like the idea of becoming vulnerable, but she liked the idea of other members of the society showing up to lay claim to what she may discover even less.
She started casting, her fingers weaving one spell while her lips uttered another. Several of the spirits she had formed pacts with drained away her life force in trade, but she had centuries to spare. No, the big issue right now was to carefully balance her attention. What she was trying to do was akin to plucking a hot coal from a fire without getting burned.
A loud wailing carried across the front yard. Kali ignored it. The banshee didn’t dare approach and had managed to distract her only once. The creature could do little to harm her, and a simple spell dampening her shrieks had been enough to protect her ears from furthe
r damage.
The wailing persisted. Kali barely notice, thoughts focused on the magical crack up above. Channeling her energy, she grabbed at both sides of the crack, ready to strike it once more. The front door of the house opened, and a woman stepped out onto the porch. Kali opened her eyes to see who the newcomer was and had to hold in a laugh.
The woman on the porch wore a rain jacket and a fireman’s helmet. She tightly clutched what appeared to be a regular garden hose. The snakes emerged from the ground, venomous fangs bared, daring the newcomer to attempt to cross the yard.
Satisfied that the firefighter had been thwarted, Kali turned her attention back to the sky.
The banshee wailed even louder, her voice like a small bomb.
“NOW!” the banshee screamed, and the firefighter braced herself against one of the pillars.
Kali had no idea how they were able to raise the pressure in the hose high enough to cross the length of the yard and strike her in the face. The spray was hardly powerful enough to harm her, but the ice-cold water was a shock. She faltered, her mouth and fingers frozen in place, just as her magic struck the crack.
Lightning arced from the crack, striking her and blowing her off her feet. Shrieking, she tumbled across the yard, smoke rising from her damaged flesh. Her snakes hissed in fury, swarming toward the porch, but they couldn’t cross the barrier. Swearing, Kali tried to rise only to discover that she couldn’t move.
“Go eat a dick!” the firefighter hollered, a helmet pulled low over her face. But it didn’t do any good because when she tried to back into the house, she tripped on the hose, and Kali was able to see through her poor attempt at a disguise.
“Lily,” she hissed under her breath. Her wounds were already beginning to knit, but it would take some time. She concentrated the healing along her right arm, clumsily pulling her smoldering phone out of her breast pocket. She dropped it on the ground, letting out a small laugh. The high priest would have to wait even longer. The python wrapped itself around her, cradling her in its warm coils and carrying her away from danger.
Above her, the crack in the sky glowed blood red, slowly shrinking away.
Sweat poured down Mike’s back, his breath ragged. Jenny, who had been singing nonsense, was now silent. They ran along the stones, the air of the Labyrinth suddenly hot and stifling.
The Minotaur had found them. Mike didn’t bother looking over his shoulder, for he could hear its heavy footfalls behind them. The creature was huge, built like a linebacker with the head of a fearsome bull and the horns to match. Wearing nothing but a loincloth, the creature had bellowed upon seeing them and charged, his enormous weapon, an ax, held tightly in one hand. If not for the weight of the ax, Mike wondered if they would have been caught already. Even so, the beast apparently had impossible stamina, and Mike knew that he would tire long before the Minotaur did.
“Jenny?!” The path split before them, and Mike didn’t know which way to go.
Jenny ran ahead of him. Her movements were fluid, but her whole body was shimmering. Jenny was struggling to hold on to her vessel, her soul billowing out behind her. In her backpack, Mike saw that the doll was surrounded by a haze—Beth’s soul ready to return to her body. Jenny took a left at the split, and Mike followed.
“How much farther?” Mike called. He could hear the Minotaur’s breath, hot and labored.
“Up ahead!” They turned a corner and burst into a small clearing. There was a large patch of grass leading up to the remains of a stone bridge. The bridge had long ago collapsed, and the rapidly flowing river beneath it was about fifteen feet across. Jenny slowed, and they were running side by side.
“Jenny?” Her whole body was covered in a mist, as was her backpack. Her breathing was ragged, and her dark eyes were flickering, the light returning to them.
“Jump, jump, jump!” Jenny accelerated ahead of him onto the stone bridge. A small lip went out over the water, like a makeshift diving board.
Mike took a deep breath, pushing his muscles to the absolute limit, feet slapping against the hard stone.
Just as Jenny reached the edge, it happened. With a blast of light, she lost control of Beth’s body, and the swirling mists exchanged places, Beth’s spirit flowing back into her own body. Beth cried out in alarm, sliding to a halt, but Mike was too close behind. He crashed into her, sending both of them falling into the river below.
Dana fought the urge to call out, the hairs on her arms rising. Her landlord’s house held an odd stillness, and the air was impossibly cold. She walked carefully across the faded carpet, stepping around the coffee table, which held a cold plate of eggs and toast.
Voices from the kitchen caused her to creep softly along the wall, her head tilted as she tried to hear. Her landlady’s soft voice reached her, followed by the low murmurs of a man. His voice was clinical yet commanding. Nearing the threshold, she paused just short of the frame.
“Are you sure?” the man asked.
“Yes. She is supposed to be at work.” The old woman’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I was planning to sneak in and do some of her laundry for her, poor thing.”
Laundry. Dana’s mind was suddenly confronted with the knowledge that she couldn’t remember the last time she had washed her clothes. Was she really so far gone that she hadn’t noticed her clothes magically washing themselves? Shame burned itself into her cheeks, but she stayed to listen.
“Why are you doing her laundry?”
“Her heart is broken.”
“Ah. The accident.” He said the word as if it were a common occurrence, like measles or chicken pox. “So you can let me in to her apartment to wait.”
“I shouldn’t,” the landlady said.
“But you will.” His voice was relaxed, but Dana detected the hard tone to it. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she suddenly worried that her breath was too loud. What did this guy want?
“I will.” The old woman let out a small moan. “After I do that, will you let me die?”
“What the fuck?” Dana spun around the corner, suddenly compelled to help the kind woman who had been doing her laundry. Her jaw dropped at the sight in the kitchen, and she stumbled back, catching herself on the doorframe.
The old woman was aglow in a soft yellow light, her skin white as chalk, her feet about four inches off the ground. Her head hung loosely to one side, her eyes fixated on nothing in particular.
“Looks like I won’t be waiting, after all.” The man sitting at the kitchen table produced a cigarette from nowhere, tucking it gently between his lips. The cigarette lit itself, and he inhaled deeply, contemplating Dana. He exhaled a large cloud of smoke. “You must be the delivery girl. Grab her for me, would you?” He snapped his fingers, and the landlady fell softly to her feet. Her face tightened as she let out an agonized cry, reaching for Dana as she stumbled forward.
Screaming, Dana made it to her feet and bolted. She didn’t go back where she’d come from—a dark shadow had already slammed the front door closed. Instead, she ran down the hallway behind the kitchen and out the back door. Running up to her car, she saw that the tires had been slashed.
“Damn!” Dana heard the door behind her slam. Without looking back, she raced into the garage before bolting the door behind her. After running across the concrete pad of her garage, she raced up the stairs and frantically tried to call the police on her cell. Strangely, her phone had no signal.
The door to her apartment splintered inward, and the landlady stumbled in, followed by the driver of the town car. They walked with purpose, their blank eyes fixed on her.
“If I bring you to him, he said he’ll let me go,” the landlady explained, stomping up the steps.
Dana looked at the window, wondering if she could jump out of it and land without breaking her leg. She should have run literally anywhere else—she had trapped herself in the garage with nowhere else to go.
The driver and her landlady were at the top of the stairs now, moving slowly toward her.
“Leave me alone!” Dana screamed. Turning to look for anything to throw or use as a weapon, she stared in amazement at the large, open wardrobe that was where the clock had been. Painted on the back wall in bright-yellow paint were two words.
Get In
Seeing no other option, Dana jumped inside of the wardrobe and pulled the doors shut. She was tossed about when the wardrobe shook as if someone had picked it up. She heard the wardrobe crash into the landlady first and then a solid mass that Dana suspected was the driver. She cracked open the door to see that the wardrobe had sprouted wooden legs and was running toward the stairs.
“No!” Dana hollered, but the wardrobe scurried down the steps with ease. The doors opened and spat her out, and she landed on her ass right next to Alex’s motorcycle. Scrambling to her feet, she saw that the wardrobe now had different words on the inside.
Look Away. Ride.
“What?” Contemplating the words, she heard movement upstairs. The driver and the landlady were back on their feet, moving toward the steps. Outside the door, Dana heard footsteps, and she turned to look. With a loud bang and clatter, the mostly restored engine of her motorcycle blew itself across the floor of the garage. Turning back around, she saw that a pristine engine had taken its place. The bike roared to life, and Dana jumped on it. The mysterious stranger appeared at the door, a wand clutched in his hand.
The bike’s engine revved and left a streak of rubber on the concrete as it raced forward toward the garage door. Dana screamed, and the bike punched a hole through it, leaving bent steel and broken wood behind. The bike slid around the car parked in the driveway, tires squealing across the concrete. Hair billowing out behind her, Dana chanced a look over her shoulder to see the man from the kitchen step out onto the street, his wand raised.
A garden hose, left unattended in someone’s front yard, stretched itself across the street. Dana turned forward in time for it to strike her in the chest, flipping her upside down, the motorcycle crashing to the pavement. The whole world spun, life moving in slow motion while he approached, the heels of his shoes clicking on the cold, hard asphalt.
Radley's Labyrinth for Horny Monsters Page 19