The Labyris Knight

by Adam Derbyshire

“No!” Rowan screamed “Commagin! Please send the cage back down!”

  Her cries fell on ears too far away to hear her pitiful calls and the cage continued to rise. Rowan realised she was stuck in the darkness and stared around her with panicked eyes, pleading to find a way out, knowing there was no way she would find an escape from the confined area in time to avoid her fate. Her left hand was now twice the size it should have been and her wrist and forearm were catching up fast. Fresh tingling was racing up and down her legs, indicating these limbs were about to grow as well. She was going to die and all she could think about was the warm touch of Thomas and the time they had spent earlier that afternoon in his cabin.

  “Oh Thomas. I really loved you.” She confessed, turning around, tears in her eyes, watching Socks padding towards her, death reflected in his eyes, wishing she could just click her heels together and magically transport home. She looked down at her dust coated boots and tried to smile. Unfortunately, they were not ruby red slippers. She realised she had never felt as alone as she now did.

  The cat batted Rowan with an outstretched paw, knocking her to the deck and blasting the air from her lungs before she could sob. She fell heavily, her resistance all but gone, the silver chain she had been following lying beneath her.

  Socks opened his mouth, baring his fangs, before meowing his triumph to the world.

  “Please make this be quick” Rowan prayed, clenching her fists and closing her eyes tightly. She drew in a deep breath, feeling the cat’s claws pushing against her chest. All Socks had to do was extend those claws fully and her heart would be ripped from her chest.

  The silver chain snaked away across the deck alongside her but Rowan was too terrified to care. She just kept promising to herself that if she kept her eyes closed it would all be over soon.

  “I hope I make you really sick!” she cursed aloud at the cat, as it drew it’s head up and licked its lips in preparation for the feast to come. Pain speared through Rowan’s left shoulder, making her scream anew. She felt herself roughly dragged along the floor, cat claws scraping down the front of her overalls as she was hoisted up into the air.

  The pain was excruciating, almost beyond bearing. Rowan tried not to cry out but the pain, oh the pain, it was simply too much to bear. She felt she was going to pass out as she hung all of her body weight from her injured shoulder. She just needed to keep her eyes closed and it would all be over soon. Please let it be over soon.

  * * * * * *

  Commagin pulled the rope up as fast as he could, all the time aware that the sand timer now showed the safety margin of time was also up to get Rowan out. Feelings of dread enclosed him as he pulled faster and faster, hand over hand. Why had Rowan not signalled to be pulled up? What if something had happened to her, what if his premonitions of doom came true? If Rowan was not in the cage when he pulled it up, his time aboard the El Defensor would be over. Thomas would never forgive him and for that matter, the Engineer knew he would never be able to forgive himself!

  Somehow the perilous scenario with Rowan made the concerns Commagin had for his Gnome apprentice even worse. They should never have left Barney behind in the ship’s graveyard, never abandoned him in his hour of need. Commagin knew that if they returned through the magical portal and found no sign of his little friend, he was going to have to take his leave of the ship and spend whatever time was necessary searching that terrifying place, ship by ship until he found his little apprentice again.

  His arms ached and his lungs burnt, as he heaved on the rope, hand over hand, drawing the cage ever closer. He needed to be faster, needed to keep pulling, needed to rescue that cage from the depths of the ship he called home. The Dwarf gritted his teeth and kept on pulling determined he would not lose another member of the crew.

  The dull clang shocked him when it came, pulling the engineer from his focus. Commagin gave the rope another firm tug, wrapping it tightly around his waist to stop it from sliding back down into the hold, the force of his pull dragging the cage clear across the deck, then he turned to regard the dented and squashed container and found his worst fears realised.

  He ran to it, dropping to his knees, his stubby hands wrenching open the door and staring inside through his thick glasses, pleading, praying that his young charge was inside. However, one look was all it took to confirm she was not there. How was he going to tell Thomas? How was he going to explain that this terrible accident had happened? What was he going to do? His mind conjured up the horrific scenario of Rowan screaming as she grew, her limbs filling the small space and then the intense pain as she realised there was no space left to grow in. His eyes filled with tears, the image overwhelming.

  Commagin sucked in a deep breath, not realising that he was actually holding onto it so tightly. Well, he would make sure he was near her when it happened. He would not desert her, he owed Rowan that much. He crawled over to the hole in the deck and stared down into the darkness, knowing that the chance of seeing anything or even of hearing Rowan’s final screams would be slim to none, whilst also realising that if he did hear them, they would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  He stared down into the hole and blinked once, then twice, then instantly brushed the tears from his eyes and quickly grabbed onto the thin silver chain that lay over the edge of the hole and disappeared down into the darkness, its other end still firmly attached to the base of the beaten cage.

  Commagin pulled as fast as he could, his cataract misted eyes determined to confirm the miracle he saw attached to the end of his line. He pulled faster and faster, confirming the lumpy knot of silver links and the small figure dangling motionless from it. He reached out grabbing the miniature form of Rowan and took in her shredded clothes, the bloodied and dust streaked face, her shoulder swollen purple from the safety pin and chain snagged there.

  The engineer plunged his hand into his apron pocket and pulled free some battered wire cutters he had there, using the tool with a skill and dexterity that confirmed a lifetime of using such items. The safety pin snapped clear and Commagin drew Rowan’s arm gently from the ruins of the spring-loaded vice. She moaned in his hand, her chest rising and falling, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. The Dwarf leaned in closer, Rowan’s lips seemed to be saying something.

  “It will be over soon. It will be over soon.” She stated repeating her mantra over and over.

  “Hello beautiful.” Commagin whispered, a smile spreading across his face as he realised that the end of the silver chain was looped through the helm chain he required. “You are right; it is all over now.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The dawn sun rose gently over the city of Taurean, its warm yellow glow bathing the thick emerald carpet of overgrown jungle, waking the indigenous creatures within, raising them from their slumber to crawl, fly, run, maim and rip each other to shreds. The same light kissed the capstone of the ancient pyramid, sending golden rays of illumination shooting out across the bay towards the sprawling city and bathed the labyrinth below in a beautiful glow, unaware that its warming actions would soon have the same effect as it had on the creatures of the jungle. Creatures would run, fight, scream and bleed beneath its radiance before the close of the day.

  Mora stood on her veranda taking in the sights and the smells, barely containing the tremors of excitement running through her form. She had barely slept the night, tossing and turning, unable to get the inner peace she desperately sought, until she had thrown the covers aside and came out to meet the dawn head on. Today was the day, the coming together of years of planning and subterfuge. Tonight, when the celebrations finally finished, the Labyris axe would have a new easily manipulated owner and her position as Matriarch upon the throne of Taurean would be assured until the day that she died.

  She breathed in the air, believing that it somehow tasted sweeter for what the day was yet to bring. Every conceivable problem had been resolved. Drummon had spent the night revising the plans of the maze, identifying the best route to take
and how to disarm the traps under the games master’s expert tutelage. Kristoph was safely secured and ready for the one-sided combat that would result in his untimely and tragic death and his enslaved shipmates and craft would be shared out amongst the richer families of Taurean, securing political favours for her years of governing to come.

  Nothing could spoil this day.

  Mora breathed deeply again, relishing the taste like a fine wine, then turned from the balcony to meet her serving staff who stood patiently by, ready to bathe and dress her. This went without a single snag of a comb, without a cross word or punishment administered to the serving girls. Mora felt more relaxed than she had in months and attacked her breakfast with relish, before her final chiffon gowns of blue and gold were wrapped about her form and a golden tiara bedecked with sapphires rested regally upon her head.

  The Matriarch glanced at the mirror, taking in the female Minotaur within. She looked perfect, powerful enough to rule Taurean with an iron fist, yet demure enough to still entice a suitor for the entertainments after the celebrations of the evening. Maybe one of the newer more eager and athletic bulls from the elite guards would serve. Mora closed her eyes relishing the thought.

  “Summon my transport.” She ordered, clicking her fingers to send two servants off with her command. To think that this evening Taurean would finally be hers to rule as she saw fit. The Matriarch gazed out towards the pyramid and imagined the pomp and circumstance that would occur in the throne room set just beneath the golden capstone. There she would be crowned the undisputed leader; no Empress… yes, she liked the sound of that! Her clinging lecherous clique of pampered replacements would soon be smiling from the other sides of their faces when they realised that their chance to rise and occupy Mora’s place in the hierarchy would never come to pass. It was almost too great a feeling, knowing that on the morrow she could sign their death warrants and have them all executed, leaving her with a lasting peace to her inner sanctum that she would relish.

  Mora took a slow walk through the receiving room, allowing time for her guards and servants to gather about her before she progressed from the entrance, quite elegantly she felt and descended down the marble staircase. Her palanquin awaited, ready to carry her over the bridge to the viewing platform reserved for the favoured families of Taurean elite. Her eyes glanced over the servants who all paused in their tasks to stand with heads bowed as she passed.

  Everything was as it should be, all was as planned. Mora slowed as she approached the vestibule leading down to her transport. A line of palace servants stood awaiting her pleasure but there was no sign of the games master and she had expressed her desire that he meet her here so she could discuss the finer points of the games. The servants shook their heads at her query as to his location. No one knew where the Minotaur had gone, his whereabouts a mystery.

  The Matriarch tried to brush the annoyance away. It was a minor irritation to concern herself about, nothing of real importance. Every detail had been examined time and again. Perhaps he was already at the games, rushing to ensure all was prepared for the visiting dignitaries.

  Speaking of the dignitaries, where were the others? Where were Karlar, Ammet, Chane, Shuesan, Pascol and Wanessa? Did they not realise that today was the last day of freedom they would have? Mora chuckled to herself, causing a couple of servants to edge away nervously. It was strange though. Mora could not believe that Wanessa would be early to anything given her immense size.

  The servants plumped her pillows and offered delicacies on golden platters before Mora was hoisted up onto the litter and her procession began. The Matriarch tried to contain her excitement as every step taken brought her closer to her goal. Normally she never bothered looking through the velour drapes but today she did not want to miss a moment.

  Guards snapped to attention as she passed. Citizens and servants waved and cheered as her carriage moved past, some people held flags and wore ribbons on their arms in gay colours that did not match the colours of their tunics. Hues of silver, purple, orange, gold, blue, red and green flowed through the crowds of cheering people. The excitement was palpable; Mora felt her heart beat just a little faster. Huge banners showed her two sons in mock combat, Drummon all in black and intimidating, a silver ribbon tied on his arm, Kristoph all chestnut and proudly wearing a golden ribbon on his arm…

  Mora blinked twice at the poster as she remembered the colours of the ribbons worn in the crowd, only a handful of people wore silver ribbons! Surely, these ribbons did not indicate allegiance to a contestant. She looked again at the ribbons upon ribbons of gold as the palanquin moved serenely past and grimaced. Kristoph wore a golden ribbon on his arm!

  An uncomfortable twitch suddenly developed in her left ear. She raised a hand pressing her ear back into place until the involuntary movement subsided.

  Her transport crossed the Plaza of the Fallen, weaving its way past the statues of heroes long passed into legend. Crowds of citizens cheered and threw rice and paper streamers into the air as the litter passed by, the masses crowding the route to catch a glimpse of the dignitaries and contestants as they paraded across the plaza. Flags waved enthusiastically as the procession passed, cheers rose to the heavens, spooking the green parrots to fly about the sky, high above the chorus of upraised voices.

  Despite the adoration, Mora suddenly found a rising sense of disquiet within her. She tried to smile as the palanquin moved to exit the plaza only to have her smile slide from her face when they moved past the statue raised to Kristoph. The magnificent sculpture of the heroic Minotaur now proudly displayed a golden ribbon about his arm!

  Mora lent back in her seat fuming! How could this have been allowed to happen? She tried to understand where the swelling of support for Kristoph had come from, her mind racing over the events of the last few days. None of her spies had informed her of a growing disquiet. She tried to calm her heart, take deep breaths and relax. It did not really matter whom the support was for when the outcome was already decided. Let the populace wave their little flags and live their moment of fantasy. Reality would swiftly follow, sweeping all this ridiculous behaviour before it.

  The Matriarch tried to smile but even she knew it was strained. She gazed out through the velour drape, hoping the passing scenery would take her mind off her troubled thoughts as the procession commenced crossing the bridge, the vista changing from city streets to the cool blue of the Taurean waters and the vibrant lush green of the jungle beyond. The crowds lined the bridge several deep, Mora watched other members of the crowd run by with green, blue and red coloured ribbons on their arms and smiled to herself; clearly some of the populace had misjudged the coloured ribbons they needed to buy.

  The breeze from the waters was cool and refreshing after the heat of the city and Mora finally began to put her thoughts aside as she looked ahead and noted the ancient labyrinth approaching and the open plaza before the huge ancient archway leading into the twisting and turning passages beyond. Mora could not wait to take her seat at the royal enclosure ensuring she had the best views of the contestants and to smile sweetly at her female courtiers for one last time.

  The Palanquin lowered gently to the sand alongside several others and Mora stepped from the sheltering transport out under the cornflower blue sky. Attendants rushed about adjusting the Matriarch’s blue dress, remarking how beautiful she looked, before Mora finally lost her patience and pushed them all away, ascending the tall wooden staircase leading up to the seating area with the roar of the crowd ringing in her ears. She offered a demure wave, rewarded by more enthusiastic cheers, turned the final landing to walk out into the viewing box, and paused for effect as those influential members of the Taurean nobility turned towards her and started clapping loudly and enthusiastically.

  Mora progressed slowly past them all, shaking hands, kissing those deemed fortunate enough to be in a position of power and finally made her way to the front of the viewing area to where the seats for the privileged few were located. The Ma
triarch frowned in confusion when she noted that only one seat was occupied. She was sure she noted the travelling conveyances of her colleagues down below, yet the only Minotaur sitting, no, make that lounging before her was Wanessa.

  “Good morning Wanessa.” Mora opened, her face still wearing a look of confusion. “Where are all the others?” The obese Minotaur, wearing a ludicrously sheer yellow dress that hid nothing from the imagination and made her look like a giant over ripe lumpy plantain, turned from the silver platter alongside her and pointed to her mouth as she chewed furiously. Crumbs of cake and crushed delicacies fell from her chops to the deck below.

  Mora scowled as she waited for the, well there was no other words for it, fat cow, to stop chewing and barely contained her rage, as Wanessa seemed to draw out the masticating action, bobbing her head from side to side and holding up a finger repeatedly to indicate she was almost finished.

  “Oh, hello Mora.” Wanessa finally replied, spitting some food from her lips as she did so. “The others are here; they are just getting ready.”

  “Ready for what exactly?” The Matriarch replied, moving forward to take her seat, checking before she sat that no morsels of food had landed in her chair.

  “It’s a surprise.” Wanessa giggled, reaching for another succulent treat.

  “Have you not had breakfast this morning?” Mora enquired.

  “Oh yes. Of course. It’s the most important meal of the day.” Wanessa replied plopping a sweetmeat between her lips and chewing on it noisily.

  “So what is this one then?” The Matriarch asked, trying to keep up the pretence of friendship whilst secretly imagining roasting the lumpy banana over an open fire pit.

  “Lunch appetisers.” Wanessa mumbled between mouths of food. Mora turned away, fighting the urge to vomit. The obese Minotaur was such a slob, a complete simpleton, like all of the others, occupying a position bestowed by birthright and not ability, the sooner she was free of them the better!