by Geonn Cannon
Trafalgar descended like an avenging angel, pouncing on the beast and stabbing her piercer through its bicep. It let go of Dorothy and clawed at Trafalgar, who clung to its back. The Minotaur shook its head, knocking its horn against the wall. A piece of it broke off and fell near Dorothy’s hand, and she grabbed hold of it. For a moment she considered jamming it into the creature’s eye, but then she had another thought. She looked at the Minotaur, then began using the shard of its horn to scratch on the ground next to her.
The Minotaur rolled and tossed Trafalgar away, her blade still embedded in his arm. She managed to land well, getting onto her hands and knees within seconds of landing. The Minotaur lowed as it pulled the blade from its muscle and dropped it onto the ground. It turned to look at Dorothy, arms bracketing its sides as it rose up and took a step forward.
“Look!” Dorothy barked. She slapped her hand on the double-bladed axe she had drawn, then slapped her chest. She pointed at the Minotaur and then slapped the axe drawing again. The Minotaur stopped and watched her odd display, following her hand from it, to the drawing, to herself. “Labrys. Female goddesses, female power. Protection. Maternity.” She slapped the axe again. “This is your symbol. This is on the outside of the labyrinth. You are here not as a prisoner but to protect the treasure. Help us. Help us protect the treasures.”
The Minotaur snorted and looked hard at her. It took a deep breath and turned slowly to look at Trafalgar. She swallowed hard and made a point of taking off the remaining blade of her emei piercers, and she tossed it aside. The clink of metal hitting stone echoed in the sudden silence of the chamber.
“Help us,” Dorothy whispered. She pointed toward the door, then drew an X over the axe with her finger. “They are bad men. They will stop at nothing to get your treasure. If they were gone, my friend and I would leave as well. We would do you no more harm.”
The Minotaur looked at Dorothy’s arm, apparently indicating she was the only one who had come to any real harm in their assault.
“Your horn has seen better days as well.” She looked at the shard she was still holding and she let it drop from her fingers. “You could kill me, and then Trafalgar could cripple you. I think we should focus our attention on the men who only want to use your treasure for their own gain.”
The Minotaur dropped to one knee and collapsed forward, face-down on the floor. One large, almost human eye stared directly at Dorothy and then looked toward the door. It let out one long wail and let its arms fall limply to either side. It looked for all the world as if the thing was dead.
Trafalgar swallowed the lump in her throat. “Lady Boone has slain the beast. Good lord.” She sagged against the wall and put a hand to her forehead.
“Slain, or tamed...” Dorothy raised her voice. “Mr. Weeks!”
Daniel was the first through the door, taking a step back to give the beast a wide berth. He blinked rapidly at the massive body as his brother joined them.
“Good Lord,” Daniel said. “Look at the size of it.”
Dorothy clutched her shattered shoulder. “I hope your study has a particularly large wall.”
“Pardon?”
“You are standing next to one of the most impressive beasts to ever walk this earth. It was killed so you could profit. You’re not even going to take a trophy? This magnificent creature at least deserves awe and respect after death, even if it is hanging over your mantle.”
Daniel nodded slowly. “Yes. Right... y-yes.” He stepped forward and drew a knife. “It’s going to take hours just sawing through the sinew and muscle...”
The Minotaur reared up and swung its head toward Daniel’s voice. The newly-broken horn pierced Daniel just below the sternum and lifted him up off the ground before coming through his back. His face was twisted in a mixture of shock and pain as he was dropped, blood pouring from his wound as he crumpled to the ground. The Minotaur pushed itself up and turned toward Orville. The handsome Weeks brother shook his head, babbling as he nearly tripped over his feet running toward one of the many exits in the chamber. He disappeared into the darkness already running. The Minotaur looked at Dorothy and Trafalgar, then took off in pursuit.
Trafalgar listened to the beast howl as it began pursuing its enemy. “Good lord. Do you think it will catch him?”
Dorothy winced and remembered the mental anguish she’d been subjected to aboard his airship. “I hope not. I hope the bastard runs this maze the rest of his life.” She tried to sit up and cried out in pain, drawing Trafalgar to her side. “Crumbs.”
“I would say this is much worse than crumbs.” She helped Dorothy up, propping her against the wall. “Is it just your shoulder?”
“No. When he grabbed my ankle, I believe he twisted it.”
Trafalgar sighed and shook her head. “You are a mess, Lady Boone.”
“I thought we had moved on to Dorothy.”
“When one wishes to express disappointment, one must resort to titles.”
“Or middle names,” Dorothy said with a pained groan. She looked around the chamber. “I don’t suppose there’s a lift hidden around somewhere...”
Trafalgar shook her head. “Not that I saw. Dorothy... thank you. These injuries were inflicted because you gave me an opportunity to reach the treasure.”
“You found it?”
“And the stone.” She took it out of her pocket. It was infuriatingly plain, save for a few indecipherable carvings on its face. “Of course, that was before I knew you would achieve solidarity with our tormentor.”
“The chalcedony. Are you going to keep it?”
“No. It’s far too dangerous to keep anywhere in London, and I would say we’ve proven this is an adequate hiding place. Stay here and I’ll replace it.”
She stood up and went through one of the archways. Dorothy reached up to touch her shoulder and hissed in pain. She looked at the ceiling, hoping there was some kind of secret written there. She had a feeling that if there was a way out, it would require walking or at least being mobile. The corridors of the labyrinth were far too narrow for Trafalgar to support her; they couldn’t walk side-by-side through the twists and turns, and they certainly wouldn’t be able to ascend the stairs. Not to mention the twins... if by some miracle they escaped the labyrinth Trafalgar would be weary and encumbered when she came back upon Milena and Mircea.
Dorothy took out her revolver and checked the load. Trafalgar would never leave her behind, and there was no point in both of them rotting there. Her left arm was the one injured, so she used her right hand to raise the gun to the soft part of her chin. She rested her head against the stone wall and braced herself for the blow. She squeezed her eyes shut and fought back the wave of terror and sorrow that threatened to overtake her. She had to do it. Trafalgar might survive long enough on her own to find a way out, but with a broken woman weighing her down--
“Absolutely fucking not.”
Dorothy looked at Trafalgar, who was stalking toward her. “It’s my decision, Trafalgar.”
“The hell it is.” She took the gun from Dorothy and tucked it into her belt. “We’ll find another way out of here. Both of us. You saved us from a damned Minotaur. I won’t have you surrendering after victory has already been achieved.”
“Quite a Phyrric victory. We defeat our enemies and wind up trapped forever in the Minotaur’s chamber. Not that it should take long to succumb to hunger or dehydration. Of course, the Minotaur may change his mind after a week or two. He could decide to simply eat us to put us out of our misery.”
“You are a very nihilistic person, are you aware of that?”
“I prefer the term realist. That way I’m either right or pleasantly surprised. It works out well for me more often than blind optimism.”
“Well, look at me. I was born to a world where I wasn’t given a name just in case I died as a child. I could have lived out my days getting water from a well, caring for my father and sisters, having fat little babies that I couldn’t get too attached to because of disea
se and environmental dangers... I was kidnapped by evil men, brought to a world where I barely spoke the language.” She sighed. “Nothing in my life has been the optimistic choice. And yet, here I am. Trapped in a pit with a ferocious half-man, half-bull. Just another day in my life.”
Dorothy laughed. “Well, thank you for including me.”
“Of course.”
“We can’t walk out of here. Even if I tried leaning on you, the corridors are too narrow...”
Trafalgar stood up and went to her discarded jacket. “We can use this as a sled. Tie the arms around my waist, you sit on the end, and I drag you out of here following the marks we made in the stone on our way in.”
“Hardly dignified.”
“Would you rather have dignity or your life?”
Dorothy sighed. “Fine. String yourself up. Let’s get this over with before our beastly friend comes back.”
Chapter Nineteen
The sight of Beatrice walking into the courtyard with her face and clothes smeared with blood was enough to convince the majority of Watershed goons to put down their weapons. They didn’t know what had happened with their leader’s pet psychics, but the fact the bloody woman was still moving forward was proof that fighting wouldn’t do any good. They had seen those creepy sisters win fights without even throwing a punch, so anyone who walked away from a fight with them had to be unimaginably formidable. They got onto their knees and laced their hands behind their heads. One man brought up his gun only to have the weapon ripped from his hands by an unseen force and used to pistol-whip him before it was tossed into the woods. That display was enough to make the rest of them surrender.
Once the ground forces had been subdued, Araminta carefully landed the airship on a clear piece of ground north of the palace ruins. Her crew helped secure the prisoners, while the medic tended to Beatrice and Ivy’s wounds. He had a little trouble treating Ivy’s arm seeing as the wound was the only part of her that was visible, but he eventually managed to get a bandage wrapped around her upper arm. When he was finished the circle of gauze hovered in midair like a persistent smoke ring.
Araminta looked into Beatrice’s eyes to check for a concussion. “She must have hit you pretty hard if you’re still dazed.”
“It was my own fault. I used too much energy.” She brushed off the medic’s attempts to check her out. “I’ll be fine. We should concentrate our efforts on finding Dorothy and Trafalgar.”
“They’re still inside somewhere?” Araminta asked, turning to look at the palace ruins.
“Under,” Beatrice said. “When I was... when that woman and I were grappling, I was inside her head. She had just come up to the surface after being underground.” She looked at Leola. “I was hoping you could connect the dots. Trafalgar said you were good at putting the pieces together, making leaps. How should we go about finding them?”
Leola took a deep breath and looked at the area. “Underground. A vast treasure of immeasurable power, somewhere underground.” She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to one side. “It would be very dark.”
Beatrice raised an eyebrow and looked at Araminta.
“Unless,” Leola said, brushing between them to point at three large pits cut into the courtyard. “Unless there was a method of providing light to the underground network.”
The women approached the center opening and peered down into the darkness.
“It seems to be a very long way down.”
Beatrice had already slipped out of her jacket. “Work up a harness, find some rope. A hundred yards should do it, if you have one that long.”
Araminta snapped her fingers at the nearest crewmember and gave him the assignment. She looked at Beatrice and said, “You’re not thinking of going down there alone, are you?”
“It has to be me. I have the best defense.”
Ivy cleared her throat. “Excuse me, hello.”
“Fine, the second-best. But the difference is that if I fall or if the rope is too short, I can float.”
“You can fly?” Leola said.
“I can hover. I can cushion a fall.”
Leola shrugged as if it didn’t make a difference. “Sounds like flight to me.”
Beatrice smirked and let Araminta help her into the harness.
“We’ll stay up here in case there’s any trouble. What else do you need before you go down?”
“Weapons.”
Araminta gave her a pistol, a knife, a flashlight, and after a moment of consideration a first-aid kit. Beatrice put it all in a satchel and slung it over her shoulder. They checked to make sure the rope was secure and then Beatrice moved to stand next to the lip of the opening.
“If it’s too far down for me to shout back up, I’ll tug on the rope three times as a signal to you to reel me in. Try not to get pulled over the side. It’ll be dangerous enough without one of you falling on me.”
Leola rolled her eyes. “We’ll try to be careful. Ready?”
Beatrice turned her back and braced her feet on the lip of the opening. She tested the rope, took a few steadying breaths, and then began walking down into the pit. The walls had been lined with claw bricks, which were sturdy enough to provide a grip for her boots as she descended. The opening was wide enough that she couldn’t reach the opposite side without pushing off and swinging. She was very aware of gravity trying to pull her down, and grateful for the women fighting to keep it from succeeding on the lip of the hole.
“Trix!” Araminta called down. Beatrice looked up and saw the silhouette of her head outlined against the sky. “You have about twenty yards of rope remaining!”
Beatrice looked down and saw the tunnel was about to start narrowing drastically. “It should be enough!” Her voice bounced back to her several times before she saw Araminta nod. Beatrice untied the rope and let herself fall the rest of the way, her feet slipping on the sloped bricks. Instead of forming a cup, there was a narrow opening just wide enough for a person to slip through. She crouched down and saw that it led into a narrow corridor of blue stone.
She slipped out of her harness, dropped the satchel of supplies through the opening, and then got onto her stomach to shimmy through.
#
“I wonder if there’s any connection... labrys being associated with female empowerment and the word labia. Although the axe symbolism is unusual. I should do some reading on that when we get out of here.”
Trafalgar blew a puff of air through her lips. “Yes. You. Should do that.”
“Hm.” Dorothy was seated on the tail of Trafalgar’s jacket while Trafalgar held the arms around her waist to form a sled. She had dragged Dorothy through several twists and turns of the labyrinth, pausing occasionally to shine the torch on the walls to see if there were any directional markings to be found. So far they seemed to be in an entirely different section of the labyrinth than before. Trafalgar shone the light on both sides of the wall, saw nothing, and sighed as she shoved forward.
“Labia is Latin for lip, I believe. But labrys is... Lydian? It’s difficult to say for certain without checking my references. Odd, though, that two civilizations would use the same root for such different ideas. Although a weapon and a maze could be said to describe a vagina as well.”
“Lady Boone!” Trafalgar snapped. “Despite... what you seem to believe. This. Is not easy. And your. Incessant prattling on about genitalia is not. Exactly. Helping the situation.”
Dorothy winced. “My apologies, Miss Trafalgar. Talking helped take my mind off the pain.” Her injured arm was up across her chest, gripping the uninjured shoulder to keep the arm immobile. “I didn’t mean to distract you.”
Trafalgar breathed out sharply and took them around another curve. They could hear noises echoing down the corridor, shouts of alarm or maybe just fear. The Minotaur bellowed from time to time; it was still hunting for the remaining Weeks brother. Dorothy listened for any hint they had gotten closer, but each time she heard evidence of the chase they were farther away.
“It
’s ironic,” Dorothy said a moment later. “We’re counting on the fact Orville Weeks won’t be able to escape this maze while at the same time expecting to find a way out of here ourselves.”
“We have the Minotaur on our side.”
“Hmph. I would say--”
“Shush.”
“Sorry. I know you said no talking. The pain...”
Trafalgar dropped the arms of her coat and drew her knife. Her voice dropped to a whisper and she shuttered the torch. “No, shut up. Someone is coming.” She moved to the side of the corridor. A moment later Dorothy could hear footsteps coming from the other direction.
Dorothy whispered, “You can’t just leave me in the middle of the corridor like this!”
“Sh, shut up!”
“I’m a sitting duck!” She began to fumble for her weapon, grunting at the pain that shot through her arm as she did.
Beatrice spoke before she appeared around the corner. “If I were looking to kill you, you’ve both made more than enough noise already.” She turned on her torch and shone it into her face as she stepped into view. “Fortunately, I am here to rescue you.”
Dorothy beamed. “Trix!”
“Miss Sek.” Trafalgar sheathed her knife. “It is very good to see you.”
“And you, Miss Trafalgar. I’m glad to see you well. And the Lady Boone.” She crouched next to Dorothy and cupped her face. “Hello, mum. I’ve missed you terribly.”
Dorothy was surprised to find herself teary-eyed. “I’ve missed you as well, Miss Sek. What... what happened? There’s blood all over you.”
“You’re one to talk. What happened to you?”
“I was stepped on by the Minotaur.”
Beatrice smiled. “You have all the luck.”