All of us light sleepers in Hell, we woke. Despite the threat of Kat's sword, the Indian aimed his fingertips toward the longbow, causing Kat to press his blade further into that throat.
"I never need a reason…" he hissed.
"Who are you?" asked Harmony, repulsed by the many dried scalps dangling from the Indian's belt.
Still holding eyes with Kat, the Indian moved his hand clear away from the bow. "Can a man clench his thirst?" he asked, voice low and respectful.
"Help yourself,” I answered, sitting up. "As much as you want."
"He already has!" complained Kat, lowering his sword. “Thief!”
"If you have one," pried Harmony, "pray tell us your name?"
The Indian dunked his leather flask into the barrel, then said. "I was once Goyathlay, then Geronimo. Now I am merely a nameless Apache who no longer wishes harm onto anyone."
"Where did you come from?" I said; while he took a satisfied guzzle from his bottle.
"I have come from the desert,” he returned, wiping the water from his lips. "The longest…desert."
He sat without invitation, seemingly untroubled by the peculiarity of our group. Then, crossing his legs over, he removed a crooked pipe and small pouch of leaves from his belt.
In silence and patience, we watched him part the leaves of the pouch, revealing a small tuft of purple moss. The Apache, who preferred to remain nameless, graciously smiled before stuffing the fat end of the pipe with his unusual stash. A match seemed unnecessary, for as soon as he took a drag from the pipe, a thick purple gas exhaled from his nostrils.
Enjoying his smoke, this individual seemed to know the workings of every cog around him.
Harmony appeared over Kat's shoulder now, whispering. "This man is okay."
Kat fixed her with a rapid scowl, and Harmony recoiled like a child to the always-willing side of Eddinray. I gave the Indian our names now, and apart from the uncompromising samurai, the others pleasantly nodded.
"Kat?" the Apache pondered, with a scratch at his chin. "Your story is common in all corners."
Unamused, Kat approached him and for a moment, I thought he was going to slap the pipe from our guest's lips. "What do you know of me savage?" he asked.
The Apache did not appear offended, or afraid of any confrontation. He was in fact, positively serene when he took another suck from his pipe. "I have been long in the fire,” he said. "They say Kat, that you are the only bird to ever fly from our nest. Yet here you are with us in the flesh."
"He did escape!" I said, feeling a strange urge to defend Kat's legend. To this, the Apache expressed a melting grin over his weathered face. "Fine company…is a rare blessing,” he said, mellow eyes investigating. "The labyrinth…is your destination?"
"None of your business,” the samurai snipped.
"Ah, yes!" Harmony exclaimed, embarrassed by Kat's rudeness. "We start tomorrow. Then onto the 9thFortress."
Outraged by her free flapping tongue, Kat kicked the barrel like he would Harmony's head. "What's the harm?" she shrugged back. "Seems everyone already knows where we're going!"
The Indian refilled his lungs and held the smoke in his system while he spoke.
"I have seen the angels of death dragging souls to the 9thFortress. I have heard the gruesome stories of what goes on there. Yet you seek it out? Why is this?"
"We have our reasons,” I said. "And what of you, friend? Do you have a destination?"
The thick-skinned man did not mind the question. "My spirit has no wish to leave Hell,” he returned, expelling the smoke from his nostrils. "Here is where I wander. In the pit is where I search for my Heaven."
"Heaven?" scoffed Eddinray. "Surely not here man!"
"Heaven," he beamed back, "is more than a kingdom in the clouds. It is wish — it is desire."
"And what do you desire?" asked Harmony, profoundly intrigued by him.
The Apache roamed an eye over his rough palms, and then whispered, "I no longer follow the warpath, and never will again. I seek something more than the blood of the Mexican or white man. I seek the rebirth and inner peace of a righteous heart. This is my wish. This is my desire."
We looked amongst ourselves, quietly impressed with this lost soul. "What is your wish?" he asked Kat, tapping his heel with an offering — his pipe and a puff from it. Kat expressed contempt that suggested refusal, but to our astonishment, he accepted the pipe and took it to his lips.
"To be heard,” he growled, filling his lungs with smoke. "Only that."
The drug's sensation lasted mere seconds on Kat's face, but long enough to show the softer side of it. Promptly regaining himself, he passed the pipe over to me.
Unconcerned, I placed it between my lips then shared my own wish — "To see her face again."
And sucking in smoke like a pro, I snorted it back out again like an adolescent. Embarrassed, I gave the pipe to Eddinray, who caressed it nervously.
"What's wrong?" I asked him, feeling ill myself.
"I can't,” he mumbled, after a gulp. "They make me…dizzy."
Kat blurted out an unmistakeable chuckle but instantly covered his mouth, as if clearing his throat of a nasty bug called humanity.
"Pass it here!" Harmony demanded, snatching it from the permanently pale knight.
"My dear!" he gawked. "You, you smoke?"
"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "But I will be part of this ceremony!"
Inhaling, Harmony revealed her wish for divine forgiveness then returned the pipe to the Apache, who enjoyed its last few whiffs of tranquillity. Fine company was indeed a rare blessing.
"Will you come with us?" I asked. "There's room for another. Who knows, you may even find your peace along the way."
"Adventure!" promised Eddinray. "Pearl too! Marvellous pearl!"
"And a way out of Hell,” I finished. "Kat will lead us."
"Yes!" Urged Harmony. "You will travel with us! It's settled then."
Packing away his pipe and pouch, the Apache stood creakily from his crossed legs, securing the longbow over his shoulder. "Is this true?" he asked Kat, genuinely interested. "You truly found a way out?"
The idea of escape was something I assumed Kat would take care of, that it was all in his good hands — until he dropped this bombshell. "That route is now impossible. I know of no other way out of Hell."
Staggered, and with no further explanations from Kat, I could not contain my anger and frustration. "That was the task Newton set you!" I yelled at his cold face. "To escort me to Hell and back, Harmony and Eddinray now included! I don't understand you Kat, how can there be no way out? Tell us your route? Go on! How did you escape this shit hole in the first place?"
All of us doubting his legend now, Kat didn't care about our opinions, or our questions.
"My way," he said, agitated; "was one way. I will not discuss the matter."
"Then…we are stuck here?" whimpered Harmony. "There must be a way. Why, there must!"
"There is,” spoke the Indian, our fear and desperation somehow dissipating before his calm aura. I hoped his joining us would add this much-needed virtue to our group. "The Gauntlet,” he said, stretching a finger far beyond the labyrinth. "Every soul who ever attempted the run has found their flesh ground against its teeth. I have never come across this trial of trials myself, but if you do, remember that your body is precious — it is all we have left now."
"Then the Gauntlet is our way,” I said, resolved. "How do we find it?"
"The Kat found his way," the Indian returned; "if it is God's wish, you will find yours." He then approached the labyrinth steps.
"Come with us!" I called to him.
"Thank you for the water,” he stopped to say, his smile followed by a final, courteous nod.
Kat and the Apache had two prominent things in common: both were leaders of men, and both were lost in Hell. We watched the mysterious Indian continue barefoot down the steps and toward the labyrinth, his potent smoke lingering long after.
***
No trace of skylight penetrated the labyrinth floor. It was narrow down here with damp walls easily beating thirty feet. We started through a corridor of considerable length, occasionally passing robust iron grates a body in length, and wafting up a volcanic heat. These grates held our weight over them, and looking down through the pattern of iron bars, one could see the mixing cauldron at this realm's very core.
"Ghastly,” said Harmony, rubbing the burn from her bare arms.
Surprisingly, the labyrinth did not keep us long before offering a choice in direction. We had reached a fork, with stone curving right and an identical corridor curving left. Customarily, Kat made the decisions, and going against the advice of Virgil, he settled for a right turn.
"We've passed twenty seven grates now,” said a weary Eddinray, some time later. "Am I the only one expecting some awful beastie to leap hungrily out from each?"
"This is nothing more than a garden maze,” returned Harmony, face perspiring. "Imagine Godwin that you are attending a grand tea party held by Louis the 14th. The palace of Versace awaits us!"
"Better the awful beastie!" he remarked. "That pompous king of yours would stretch my English neck on site!"
The journey continued through this complicated meander, and there would be no arguing with Kat over direction. Randomly he chose now — left or right corridors, whatever took his fancy. The labyrinth was all the more difficult to navigate as there was not a single distinctive feature to guide us. Nothing but Kat's fickle instinct.
"I spy with my little eye," said Eddinray, drowning out the eerie click of our footsteps over the grates, "something that begins with?" (Thinking) Nope. My mind is barren!"
"Oh, can I have a go?" asked Harmony, enthusiastically. "I spy with my little eye, something that begins with R. R for rabbit!"
"Is it a rabbit?" said Eddinray.
"Nope,” she grinned back.
"A relic?" he guessed, waggling a thumb to Kat's back.
"Nope."
"Is it a rock? A rapscallion perhaps? I'm right, aren't I?"
"Nope!"
"A radish then?" he said, frustrated. "It must be a radish!"
Harmony rolled the eyes in her head. "Godwin, I can scarcely imagine a radish in Hell! I won't play with a silly person!"
"Rigmarole?" he quipped. "Certainly feels like it."
"Shush!" yelled Kat, turning to stop the pair on their toes. "Enough of this…jabber! Enough of it!"
Eddinray and Harmony sheepishly shrunk to appease the infuriated samurai, who after an alignment of the topknot, resumed his quiet lead
***
We had been long in the labyrinth, like zombies through the monotony. I attempted to keep spirits up during this march by recounting the various cases I had worked on as a detective in 21st century Earth. The memories came to mind with a crisp freshness, but hardly one worth remembering — crime prevention was a dirty business after all. One particular story however seemed to spark their interest — the adulterous case of a husband who butchered his wife. "What drives one to kill?" Harmony pondered.
"Such violence boggles the mind."
After an awkward silence from us men, I felt obliged to answer. "In my experience Harmony, two things drive people to murder: love and money. Or in most cases, the love of money."
"Defending ones life!" added Eddinray. "Sometimes my dear, one is left no choice."
Harmony had little time to consider the subject, for Kat jogged ahead to a smudge of something new. With volts of excitement, we rest upped the pace, hoping to see the end of this tiresome conundrum.
"Well done Kat!" Harmony exclaimed, delighted. "Your instincts are second to none! How did you know?"
He didn't. All hope was lost as we arrived at the foot of many steps, the very same we had descended several hours ago. "Knew it!" I moaned, holding an accusing eye at Kat. "We should have stuck to the left! Like we were damn told! Shit!"
I stepped back to control my temper, as a deflated Eddinray slumped to one knee. It was now Harmony's turn to raise group moral. She tried, but didn't have the words or the heart for it
***
His grating voice spirited us from our bleak dejection. An alien voice.
"Lost your way?"
A humped figure was hobbling down those steps behind us. His entire form was concealed under a damp hanging cloak, and his left arm supported all his weight on a staunch looking spear. I thought it was the Ferryman at first, but only at first; there was no coiling snake around this man's hand, and no rattling bones as he walked.
"Who are you?" demanded Kat, standing to arm himself.
The twisted form remained silent as he took a fragile step and limp down the last remaining steps.
"Move no closer!" Kat warned him, the katana blocking his path. "Who are you?"
The creature's fingers curled and clung for life around the spear, his flesh of his hand a grassy green and prickly with hair. "I seek a favour." he said, drained and ancient underneath his cloth. "My name is Wisp — merchant in Hell-fire. I trade blades and bows, the rarest and latest weapons. I see the man there has a very unusual blade by his thigh. May I have a closer inspection?"
I put a protective palm over my soul-destroying dagger. "It ain't for sale."
"Show me your weapons!" Kat ordered the merchant, with no intention of buying or selling. "Do it now!"
"Alas," the thing returned, "I have none but this spear to support me." He coughed what appeared to be more hair into his already furry palm. "I was robbed crossing the deserts — my horses, my stock, all taken by the sand dwellers. I killed twelve before I was overcome, but nevertheless escaped with my soul intact."
Confused by his predicament, Wisp leant rather pitifully against the wall for air.
"What favor do you seek from us?" I asked, feeling sorry for him.
"I am in search of resurgence,” he wheezed, painfully. "My body…is frail, you see. Only the labyrinth holds the key to my renewal. With the dangers that lay ahead and my current condition, I cannot achieve this feat alone. If you will see me safely to the centre of this web, each of you will be handsomely rewarded. Very handsomely indeed."
We were intrigued, but far from interested…Yet.
"Why our help?" pressed Harmony. "You don't know us. Why, we could be out to rob you ourselves!"
Wisp gargled. Under that cloak, he sounded more animal than anything else. "A samurai, a knight, angel and man; such unions are made in Heaven not Hell. I have seen most Hell has to offer, and I see in all but one, that hearts are good here."
It wasn't difficult to deduce who the bad heart in our group belonged too. Kat did not appear insulted. Although he had killed for less, there was something about Wisp that Kat clearly warmed too.
"Tell me," I pried; "what lies at the centre of the labyrinth? We saw its light from above. What is it?"
The odd creature stepped and limped forward, and with a face of vacuous shade, he bent to share his secret. "The well,” he grumbled. "The light…and the well."
Kat's gasp shocked me, and Wisp responded with the merest dip of his cloaked head. Harmony and Eddinray were as open faced and nosey as I was, and Wisp didn't keep us waiting.
"Every sentenced soul in Hell,” he began, “has at one point, knowingly or unknowingly, drank the wells water. It is dispensed from the labyrinth centre in various forms: showered through droplets in the air itself, or distributed by the black angels alongside their death and despair. The well water is circulated to reach all who deserve incarceration, and here it contains them."
"What does it do?" whispered Eddinray. "What can it do?"
Wisp coughed again and stumbled sickly against his spear. "It gives the suffering…a threshold. One sip and the body can withstand the most unimaginable torture. The mind will feel, but the body survives. Perpetual suffering is the way of things here, and the well and its light make eternal torment possible. Drink enough of the water, knight, and it is said to replenish ones youth and vitality — the Holy Grail it
self. All this awaits a mere few walls away…"
I knew now why the decayed Wisp desired such a gift, but I was still indifferent to this crazy side quest.
"That's not why we're here,” I said. "We don't seek any treasure, especially one found in Hell. I'm sorry Wisp, but we can't help you…"
Wisp gave me a respectful wave. "To find the greatest treasures," he said, "one must endure the worst hardships. I see by your eye that you know exactly what I am talking about."
I turned the left side off my face from his sight. I didn't need reminding of the worm's post or the bluntness of Scarfell's knife.
"I too have been through much hardship,” Wisp added. "The body has been ravaged by various forms of fire and brimstone. My health will be restored by the well…as will your eye to you. Alternatively, do you humans seek something greater? The way out perhaps? I can, if you so desire, lead you there."
With a gasp similar to Kat's a moment ago, I looked greedily back to Wisp. I wanted my eye back, course I did, but I coveted the Gauntlet even more. "You know where to find the Gauntlet? You know where it is?"
"I do," he answered, "but I dare not run it."
"We go to the well,” interrupted Kat, still making our decisions for us. "You have a deal with us creature. Do not break it!"
I did not like nor understand Kat's sudden hunger for this well, the man seemed drunk on the preposterous power of it. "Why do you want this Kat?" I asked, taking him aside. "Why…would we want it?"
His expression scrunched queerly, as if I was insane for not understanding his motives. "Your task is the 9th Fortress," he grizzled back; "mine is to get you there in one piece. The well guarantees both."
His brief argument sounded reasonable enough — insurance you could say. Fill the flasks with this miracle water and insure the bodies I dragged down here, whilst gaining the vital location of the Gauntlet.
"What do you think?" I asked Harmony and Eddinray, who shrugged unhelpfully.
"The well…for the Gauntlet,” I said, agreeing terms with Wisp by shaking his hairy hand. And so we five set off along the confined corridors of the labyrinth, eyes ever sharper — for the jewel of invincibility will not come cheap…or unguarded.
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