The Maze

by Trudie Collins

  “Anyone else, or can I move on to the third door?” Ellen asked.

  “Tor has to wear black,” Grimmel said.

  “Why?” he asked

  “Blue is two away from freedom. We now know that you are blue so you cannot be freedom, therefore you must be death.”

  “I am not sure I would have put it quite like that,” the Prince said, “but I see your point.” Sam threw him another of Patrick’s shirts and he tied it round his waist.

  “Anyone else?” Ellen asked “The purple door is not next to the door to freedom,” she read when nobody answered her. “All that tells us at the moment is that purple must lead to death not freedom so is of no help yet.”

  “Actually that is not true,” Bellak interrupted. All eyes turned in his direction. “The clue says that purple is not next to the door to freedom. It does not say that it cannot be the freedom door itself.”

  “I hate to say it,” Sam said, “but he is right. This clue tells us nothing until we know more about where purple is located.”

  Ellen proceeded to the fourth door in line. “The green door is left of the blue door.”

  Seth and Patrick looked at each other. Both were to the left of Tor, who was now only wearing blue and black, so either of them could be green. Modo, who was standing between Tor and Brin, happily removed a green scarf from around his neck.

  “I wish that was me,” Seth complained to Patrick. “I hate wearing so many colours.”

  “Stop whining,” Ria snapped. “You look lovely.”

  “Can we go back to the first clue?” Patrick called to Ellen, smiling maliciously at Seth.

  “The blue door is two away from the door to freedom,” she read.

  “Now that we know that Tor, in the middle, is blue, surely that means that only the two on either end can be the door to freedom. Brin is already wearing white so Seth should add white to his collection.”

  Seth groaned, realising that Patrick was right. Then he brightened up. “So Patrick and Modo have to wear black.” It was Patrick’s turn to groan as he put on the clothing that was thrown to him.

  “Last clue,” Ellen announced. “The orange door is not next to the red or blue doors.”

  “Yes!” Seth shouted out and immediately stripped off everything except his own clothes and an orange dress he had wrapped round his neck.

  “What are you doing?” Patrick asked him.

  “I am the only one not standing next to Tor, who is blue, and Brin, who is red, so I have to be orange.”

  Patrick frowned while he mentally processed what Seth had said. Reluctantly he was forced to agree that he was right. Then the smile returned to his face. “Put the white back on,” he instructed while removing his orange.

  Modo did the same. “I am purple,” he announced, looking at the colours he had left. Apart from his own clothes, he only had purple and black.

  “That makes me green,” Patrick worked out, removing a purple skirt that Ellen had placed on his head as a hat.

  “So we now know which door is which colour,” Ban observed. “But which one leads us to freedom?”

  “It has to be me or Brin,” Seth pointed out.

  “Maybe we should go through the clues again,” Oak said. “Blue two from freedom. Done. Red far right and two from blue. Done. Purple not next to freedom.”

  “Stop.” It was Dal who called out. His face flushed red as everyone turned to look at him. “Modo, I mean purple, is next to Brin so therefore Brin cannot be freedom.”

  Tor slapped him on the back. “Well done.” Brin removed the white, leaving only Seth, and therefore orange, as the only possible door to freedom. Seth still stood first in line, indicating that the door on the far left was the one they needed to take.

  Before rushing into anything, they went over each clue once more, confirming that the answer they had come to met all of the criteria.

  “So, we are all agreed?” Tor asked the crowd who had all gathered around the first door. All of the faces regarding him looked worried, but nodded their agreement.

  “We will go first,” Torrick said, leading Liselle by the hand. Before Tor could protest, he pushed the door open and walked through. No screams of agony were heard so Sam instructed some of the horses to follow her and Brin through.

  “We are out of the maze,” she called back and Bellak and Samson rushed through the open door.

  “Out at last,” he cried and ran into the trees, closely followed by Samson.

  “What’s got into them?” Sam asked as the rest of the group led the remaining horses through, followed by the donkey.

  “No idea,” Oak replied, watching the wizard’s departing back.

  When everyone was through, Tor firmly closed the door behind him. “We left a note for the rest of our brothers,” Cirren said. “I wrote that they should take the far right door.”

  Ria, who was standing directly behind him, grabbed his left ear and twisted it painfully. “I hope you mean left,” she whispered.

  “Left,” he whimpered. “I definitely wrote left.”

  “Good,” she said, giving his ear a vicious flick as she released it. Cirren’s hand flew to the side of his face and rubbed it gently.

  “Hang on a minute,” Sam said loudly. “We were just in the middle of the maze, so how did we manage to get to the outside just by walking through a door?”

  “Magic,” Ria replied. “Did you honestly expect anything different?”

  “Err Tor,” Seth said, looking over the tall man’s shoulder to the door he had just closed. “You may want to take a look at the back of the door.”

  Tor swung round and saw what had attracted Seth’s attention. Attached to the back of the door were four scrolls, one less than the remaining teams still in the quest.

  “The next clue I guess,” Cirren said excitedly.

  “Only three more legs and this stupid tontine will be over and done with.” Tor sounded resigned as his arm moved towards the nearest scroll. “Might as well see if we can figure out where our next destination is.”

  “Stop,” Sam yelled out, freezing Tor’s hand just before it reached one of the scrolls. “What did you just say?”

  Chapter 15

  “I said that we might as well see if we can figure out where our next destination is,” Tor repeated, frowning at Sam. “Why?”

  “No before that,” she said, sounding slightly flustered.

  “I cannot remember exactly what I said. Something about the will I think.”

  “No,” Dal interrupted. “You called something a stupid tontine.”

  Tor shrugged. “Tontine is another name for a will.”

  “Actually it isn’t,” Sam informed him. “What made you think it was?”

  “I think Albian called it a tontine when he was reading the details of the quest, so I assumed that it was an official name for a will.” He looked questioningly at Cirren.

  “Yes,” the younger man said. “Albian definitely called it a tontine. Why does it matter?”

  “Tontine is a French word, I think. Basically a group of people all pay an amount into an investment and the annual profits are shared equally between them. As the members of the group die, there are less people to share between, so each person receives more. The last person left alive gets everything.”

  Patrick shook his head. “I do not follow. How does this affect Tor and his quest?”

  “I once saw a TV show,” Sam continued, stopping when she saw the blank expressions on the faces in front of her. “Like a play,” she explained. She knew this was not entirely accurate but did not want to be sidetracked by having to go into full details about what a television was and how it worked. She also did not want to admit that she didn’t fully understand exactly how television signals were created, sent and transformed into moving pictures. “A man was dying. Just before he died, he left his entire life savings, his money, property, everything, to four complete strangers, chosen at random. However, it was not to be divided between them. The last o
ne of them left alive would inherit the lot.”

  “So what happened?” Dal enquired.

  “They tried to kill each other.”

  There was a stunned silence for a moment, broken by Ellen. “I still do not understand.”

  Sam turned to look at Tor. “If the will truly is a tontine, then it is not the son who gets to the final destination first that will take the crown, but the only one who is left alive.”

  Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Except for Sam, nobody even breathed.

  “Are you sure?” Brin finally asked her.

  “As sure as I can be.”

  “That explains about Gallad,” Tor said quietly.

  “What do you mean?” Cirren asked instantly.

  Tor placed his hand comfortingly on his brother’s shoulder. “We arrived at one of the terminal destinations the same time as Gallad and his team. We fought and I got the last clue.” His voice broke as he continued. “Gallad killed himself.”

  Cirren paled and looked at the ground. “The same thing happened to Hillan,” he said in a soft, shaky voice. He raised his head and looked Tor in the eye. “I got the last clue on Mount Unjar. I picked it up and almost immediately I heard a scream. I looked round and saw a body fall past me, landing on a ledge below. Using ropes, we lowered ourselves down to it and when I rolled the corpse over, Hillan’s dead face looked up at me. I assumed that he just lost his footing and it was purely coincidental that it happened just as I obtained the last clue. Maybe it was not a coincidence after all.”

  Tears were flowing down both brothers’ faces. Tor looked at Ellen. “Could a spell have been put on us, making us kill ourselves once the last available clue was taken?” he asked.

  Ellen thought for a while. “I know of no such spell,” she finally announced. “But that does not mean that one does not exist. With magic, almost anything is possible. Maybe Bellak would know.”

  “I will ask him when he returns. In the meantime, if you do not know the spell, then I will take it for granted that you do not know how to break it.” Receiving confirmation from Ellen, Tor looked around at the friends assembled before him. “Does anyone have any suggestions as to what we do now? As soon as Cirren and I take our clues, we condemn another of our brothers to death.”

  “What would happen if only one of you takes a clue and then you work together?” Seth asked.

  Ban shook his head. “That will not work. The spell will probably not know that they are working together so the other one will kill himself as soon as all remaining clues have been claimed. Somehow the spell must know when one of the brother’s takes a clue.”

  “Then why not take one together,” Ria suggested. “If you both take the same one at the same time, you will leave enough behind for your three remaining brothers.” She winced. “Sorry, I did not mean to sound that callous.”

  “Do not worry about it,” Tor assured her. “And it is a good suggestion.” He looked at Cirren. “Are you prepared to try?”

  Cirren swallowed, then nodded, unable to find his voice. The two brothers returned to the back of the wooden door through which they had escaped the maze and looked at the four scrolls attached to it.

  “On the count of three, take hold of the one on the left,” Tor instructed. Cirren nodded and held out his hand towards the assigned scroll. Tor did the same and Cirren smiled when he realised that his was not the only hand that was shaking.

  “One. Two. Three.” On the third count, both brothers simultaneously took hold of the scroll. With his free hand, Tor removed the nail that was pinning it to the door and they walked slowly back to the others, who had been watching with bated breath. Without breaking contact with the parchment, they unrolled it and, by the light of the moon, each read it carefully before passing it to Patrick, who read it out loud.

  I grow where no man dares to tread

  My stem is blue, my petals red

  My scent arouses great desire

  Drink me to quench any fire

  Take me to the valley deep

  Where rests Dathos in his keep

  Burn me as an offering

  Then the next stage will begin

  “Back to Allias to consult his library again I suppose,” Seth suggested.

  “Not necessarily,” Ellen said. “Let me read that first bit again.”

  Patrick handed over the scroll and Ellen read the clue for herself. “I think I may know the plant that we need, but I will need to consult a wise woman.”

  “Then we head to the nearest village as soon as it is light,” Tor instructed.

  “Why can’t we leave now?” Sam asked.

  “Regrettably we need to wait for Bellak and Samson to return.” Tor grinned. “I will miss the old wolf if we go on without him.” It was not clear whether Tor was talking about Samson or Bellak, but Sam suspected it was not the wizard that Tor would regret leaving behind.

  For the first time in what felt like years rather than days, they had a fire. The effect on the party was astounding. Despite the exhaustion they were all feeling, the banter that had been missing since they first entered the maze returned. The warmth of the fire penetrated their souls as well as their bodies and they relaxed, becoming a happy group of friends once more. All quarrels and disagreements had been forgiven, if not forgotten, and they managed to put death out of their minds, at least for a while.

  Thresnine, hearing the sound of running water, informed Sam that there was a stream nearby and Seth and Dal went searching for it. The last of their food supplies were unpacked and it was a pitiful sight. Stale bread that was too hard to bite into, dried beef, wrinkled carrots and a few apples that had definitely seen better days. Only Liselle had had the foresight to collect extra drupacea berries. Oak and River went foraging for edible plants while Tor took Patrick, Brin and Ban in search of game they could hunt. They were all used to looking for food during the night, so the darkness would not pose a great problem for them.

  Dal and Seth were the first to return, laden down with containers of fresh water. Both appeared to be sulking.

  “You two been fighting again?” Ellen asked.

  “No,” Seth replied miserably. “We found a small stream full of clear cool water and not a single fish in sight.”

  “Cheer up,” Ellen replied, laughing. “It is your turn to cook. What can you do with this lot?”

  Seth looked at the supplies spread out on the ground and groaned. He took their largest cooking pot and filled it half full with water before putting it on the fire to heat up. While the water was boiling, he finely chopped all of the food, including the bread, then tipped everything into the pot. Next he rummaged through his backpack for some of the jars he always carried with him, selected three of them and added a little from each. He stirred gently as the mixture simmered.

  Using a wooden spoon, he tasted it before holding it out to Ellen. “That tastes great,” she told him. “But is there enough for us all?”

  “No,” he replied truthfully, not wishing to beat around the bush. “I hope the hunting parties come back with something to add to it.”

  As if his words had summoned them, Oak and River emerged from the woods, their arms laden with edible roots and leaves, all freshly washed. Sam took the roots gratefully and quickly trimmed and chopped them. Seth tasted each variety of leaf before adding it to the pot; River found this very amusing.

  “Do you not trust us?” she asked with a smile.

  Seth did not realise she was teasing him. “I have this tasting pretty good. I do not want to add any flavours that will spoil it.” Knowing that neither River nor Oak would eat any of the stew he was making, he made sure he left out enough of the food they had collected to satisfy the two hungry sprites. River had also found a large supply of nuts, which everyone could share as a dessert if the stew did not stretch far enough.

  Just as Seth was getting ready to dish up the food, the errant hunters returned, carrying a wild boar. The stew was rapidly eaten then the men set to work on the carcass while the
ladies washed the dishes in the stream. The horses had been allowed to wander and had also made their way to the water’s edge, where they found some delicious tasting bushes. Sam commented that they looked very content as they munched.

  After much debate, it was decided that roasting the boar on a spit over the fire would be the best plan. Ban and Torrick searched for suitable sticks while Brin found vine that was tough enough to tie the legs together. Seth taught Dal the best way to gut a slaughtered animal, placing all of the innards, including the heart and liver, in a large bowl for when Samson returned.

  “I thought humans could eat some of that,” Dal said, gesturing towards the bowl of entrails.

  “We can,” Seth informed him. “Some of it even tastes quite good. If you wish to fight a hungry wolf for that while the rest of us eat the meat, be my guest. Personally, I am happy to let Samson have it.” When it was put to him that way, Dal could do nothing but agree.

  When the preparation of the boar was complete, it was attached to the makeshift spit and placed over the fire. It would take a long time to cook properly so volunteers were called for to keep an eye on it during the night, while it slowly roasted. Everyone took it in turns to sleep, stand guard and turn the roasting pork. The night passed uneventfully and the boar provided a wonderful breakfast. Bellak and Samson returned as the sun was beginning to rise and ravenously fell on their food. Neither commented when asked where they had been, but Bellak was gracious enough to say that he had found what appeared to be a rough path running through the forest.

  Brin and Oak climbed the tallest trees they could find and confirmed that, in the same direction as the path appeared to be heading, they could see a thinning of trees which could well indicate the edge of the forest. As they had no idea where they were or in which direction the nearest village lay, it was agreed that following the path was their best option.

  It took them the entire day, but eventually they walked out from between the trees into open grassland. Though the sun had been shining brightly all day, the evening was turning cool.

  “I would rather not spend another night in the open if I can help it,” Tor surprised them by saying. “Can anyone suggest in which direction civilisation may lie?”