by Joffre White
They moved forwards, the light of the torches giving them more confidence; even the mist seemed to melt back and recede from the light.
‘Is this your first adventure?’ Frog asked Fixer as they moved on.
‘Depends what you call an adventure,’ she answered.
‘Well I guess trudging through a dark crevasse and heading into a dangerous Labyrinth qualifies for one,’ said Frog.
‘Lady Dawnstar has taken me into spookier places,’ she replied proudly.
‘Like what?’ asked Ginger.
‘Like into a Madbagger’s lair, to rescue some little children.’
‘A Madbagger? You’ve been into a Madbagger’s lair?’ said Ginger, his eyes wide with surprise. ‘You’re crazier than I ever thought.’
‘What’s a Madbagger when it’s at home?’ enquired Frog.
Ginger and Fixer exchanged a look, half smile and half fear.
‘You’d best wait until we’re in daylight before we describe it to you,’ said Fixer.
‘Yes, in these surroundings, just talking about one gives me the spooks,’ added Ginger.
‘Oh, come on, you guys, nothing could be that scary,’ announced Frog.
‘Okay, you asked for it,’ said Fixer. ‘I’ll start and Ginger can fill in the other details.’
Smiling mischievously, Ginger nodded in agreement.
Fixer opened her mouth, when suddenly there was a whooshing noise. Ginger let out a yelp as his torch was snatched from his grasp and flew rapidly skyward. Its flame was extinguished many feet above them. The wooden stake clattered to the ground next to him.
‘What the ...?’ he cried, rubbing his hand as he felt the splinters left in it from the wooden stave.
There was another whoosh and Frog caught site of a dark object moving at head height towards Sir Peacealot. As the knight turned to see what the shouting was about the object slammed into his chest and he fell sideways to land under his horse. The horse reared up in surprise, its hooves raised over him, ready to crash down on his head. He rolled and came out from under the horse, drawing his sword as he did so. The creature that had hit him had already picked up the torch which he’d dropped and carried it skyward. They watched as its flame was extinguished. The horses were panicking and the mules were braying in terror as several dark shapes landed on their backs, scrabbling to get to their necks.
‘What are they?’ cried Fixer.
‘Bat-rats!’ shouted Frog. ‘Don’t let them bite you,’ he warned.
Logan grabbed a half dozen stakes and threw them on the ground. He pulled a flask from one of the bundles and threw it towards Ginger.
‘Light as many torches as you can!’ he ordered. ‘The darkness is their ally, if we lose the light, we’re defenceless.’
Ginger and Frog crouched down, dousing the torches with the liquid, while Fixer readied her tinderbox. Logan had his whip in hand. He expertly flicked the long leather lash around the necks of those that were threatening to bite into the flesh of the horses and mules, each crack signalling the end of a creature as the twisting coil separated the vicious little heads from their bodies.
At the same time, Lady Dawnstar and Sir Peacealot were scything their swords through the air above them, which resulted in sliced portions of the black creatures dropping lifeless to the ground around them.
With a sudden flare everything was bathed in a bright blue light from the torches. Ginger and Frog had laid them out in a row on the ground, their liquid-soaked heads touching so that when Fixer made a spark they ignited as one. Quickly grabbing one each they passed them to Logan and Sir Peacealot, returning to pick up the rest and raise them high into the darkness. Ear-splitting screeches ricocheted around them as the remaining creatures retreated into the night, high above the towering stone walls.
‘Has anyone been bitten or scratched?’ asked Lady Dawnstar urgently.
There was a brief panic by Ginger, who wasn’t sure if the blood on his hand was caused by a bat-rat bite or a splinter cut. But much to the relief of all it turned out to be the latter. Ginger let Lady Dawnstar remove the splinter and tend the wound, grinning as she fussed over him while Fixer gave him a jealous look.
Logan surveyed the scene in the steady light. The remains of at least two dozen of the creatures lay strewn around them, their dark blood creating black liquid pools underfoot.
‘Touch every one of them with a torch and burn them, else you would be surprised at what evil can put back together,’ he said as he lowered his torch to the headless body at his feet. At once it burst into sickly green flames, the long black tail thrashing, its legs still clawing to reach him. A feeble screech emitted from the separated head nearby and Logan touched this also, to the same effect.
‘Don’t forget the heads and don’t get any blood on your skin,’ he warned.
Logan thought that there would be no repeat attack, but they all kept one eye skyward while they completed the grizzly task of burning the remains of their assailants.
‘He knows we’re here, we must double our speed if we’re to reach the Labyrinth before he sends some other, more persistent, vile creatures to assault us,’ said Logan after he had finished inspecting the horses and mules for injuries.
‘I suppose he means Lord Maelstrom,’ said Ginger.
‘Well I don’t think he means Father Christmas,’ said Frog.
‘Who?’ asked Fixer.
Frog looked at Ginger and Fixer. ‘It’s a long story,’ he explained.
‘That’s Okay,’ replied Fixer. ‘I think we’ve got plenty of time at the moment.’
As they resumed their journey, Frog told them the legend of Saint Nicholas and related the magic of Christmas, which stirred memories of his home and family. Ginger and Fixer found comparisons with the Festival of Winter in Castellion and the custom of exchanging gifts was not too dissimilar. They sang songs and decorated their homes to celebrate the season. The Festival was based on friendship and sharing so that no one would go without food and warmth during the coldest time of the year.
They had been making steady progress along a corridor that had now widened out for them to walk comfortably in pairs when Logan raised his hand to halt their advance. In the light of his burning torch they could see that the rock walls ended on either side and disappeared into blackness, as did the ground before them. He lowered his torch to his feet to reveal the top of some stone steps, also descending into the dark.
‘No horses from now on,’ he said. ‘Everything we need, we carry. Change into whatever battle gear you prefer. Take only what is necessary but remember, if you take too much and can’t carry it, no one else will carry it for you.’
They stood in silence for a few moments until Frog spoke up.
‘Nothing has made sense to me since I arrived in this crazy world of yours so I guess one more weird decision won’t make any difference.’ He walked up to the Ranger. ‘But if anything happens to my horse, I’m not sure if I could forgive you.’
Logan looked down at Frog. ‘As long as your horse does what he’s told, then he won’t come to any harm. Now lets move, we’ve got to be in the Labyrinth by sunrise and we’ve still got quite a way to go.’
When they had changed and agreed what provisions they needed to take with them, Logan instructed them to secure a fresh burning torch to each of the animals’ saddle packs and then went up to each horse and mule in turn. He stood cheek to cheek with them for a moment and whispered gently in their ears. Finally he turned them to face back down the long black corridor. He lightly touched the hind quarters of Lady Dawnstar’s white steed and it trotted off into the darkness, the others following in turn.
‘What did you say to them?’ asked Frog.
‘I told them not to be afraid,’ said Logan. ‘You best take the same advice young Frog, as much depends on your courage.’ Picking up his backpack and blanket roll, Logan gripped his torch and took the first step down into the stairwell.
After only what seemed a few minutes, they could see an
amber glimmer appearing below them and as they made steady progress down the remainder of the steps they could see that they were approaching a semicircular flagstone floor at the foot of the steps. Facing them on floor level was a stone arch set in a block stone wall, the two burning braziers either side being the source of the amber light.
Logan stepped forward and dipped his torch into one of the braziers. As he withdrew it, they could see that the torch was extinguished. He indicated for the others to follow suit. They did so and were surprised that their torches were cold, as if they had never been lit.
Now in the flickering orange light they turned their attention to the inscription carved above the entrance.
The way shall be lit if you stay in view.
Up may be down, but what’s left is true.
My corridors are long,
my passages unforgiving.
If you have the courage and the knowledge
You will return to the land of the living.
‘I hate puzzles,’ complained Ginger.
‘It’s no problem,’ said Frog. ‘Our Ranger friend has been here before.’ He looked at Logan.
‘That’s true,’ Logan agreed. ‘But never into the Labyrinth.’
‘Not good,’ stated Frog. ‘No chance of Plan B, then?’ he enquired.
‘Plan B? What’s Plan B?’ asked Fixer.
‘I’m working on it,’ replied Frog.
11
Into the Labyrinth
As they approached the entrance arch, they could see two things. Firstly, an eerie glow emitted from the floor, walls and ceiling, lighting the way along the corridor. Secondly, there were no joins in the stonework – it was as if the passage had been hewn out of solid rock.
‘I don’t trust this light,’ said Logan. ‘We’ll still take our torches, just in case. Ginger, bundle them up and strap them across your backpack. Frog, you carry the lighting fuel, a couple of flasks should do.’
After a brief discussion, they decided to enter with Lady Dawnstar taking the lead, Frog next, then Sir Peacealot, Ginger, Fixer and Logan bringing up the rear. They were about ten metres into the passage when they were faced with their first decision, a choice to follow a right or left-hand passage. In the end they chose to take the right one because, as Fixer pointed out, ‘We don’t know if we’re trying to get to the centre of the Labyrinth or find a way through it, so at this stage it doesn’t make much difference.’
‘I’m sure that I was told a solution to mazes,’ said Frog. ‘ But I can’t remember it at the moment.’
‘Thanks for sharing that with us,’ said Ginger sarcastically. ‘That’s really helped.’
‘One thing that we do need to do,’ interrupted Fixer, ‘is to mark where we’ve been in case we happen to double back on ourselves.’
‘How are we going to do that?’ asked Sir Peacealot.
‘Scratch the walls at each junction,’ said Fixer. ‘So if we put a cross on the wall here and we end up back in the same place, we’ll see it and know not to follow the same path.’
‘Good idea,’ said Logan. He removed one of the daggers from his chest belt and scraped a cross onto the stone wall, but no matter how hard he tried, he could leave no mark, not even a scuff.
‘I know,’ said Frog. ‘Write on it.’
‘What with?’ asked Ginger.
‘Crayon, felt marker, chalk,’ said Frog, forgetting himself.
They all looked at him blankly.
‘Perhaps not,’ he said resignedly.
‘Just a minute,’ said Fixer, her face lighting up with a smile. ‘Ginger, turn around.’
‘What for?’ complained Ginger.
‘Just do it,’ she insisted.
Ginger did as he was told and Fixer stuck two fingers into the end of one of the torches.
‘This do?’ she said, grinning and holding up her hand.
Everyone looked at her blackened, sooty fingers.
‘Brilliant,’ said Frog. ‘Fixer by name and Fixer by nature.’
Fixer walked forwards and smudged a black arrow on the wall in the direction of the passage they were taking.
‘That should do it,’ she said. ‘We’ll use this at every intersection.’
They continued on, the strange light emanating around them and illuminating their way. After a while they entered a large, square room. There were three open doorways: one to the right, one to the left and one straight ahead. There was also a square shaft in the centre of the ceiling with another below it in the middle of the floor. Logan looked into the shaft in the floor and was surprised to see that the bottom was only a couple of metres down.
‘I think that it’s time that we rested,’ said Lady Dawnstar, looking at Frog, Ginger and Fixer, who had already sat themselves down against a wall. ‘Our little friends are nearly asleep on their feet. I must admit that I’m tired myself. I think that we’ve travelled well into the night and we should take advantage of the space here and get some rest.’
They set up camp as best they could, lighting a small fire and cooking themselves a simple stew from their provisions. No sooner had Frog, Ginger and Fixer consumed their portions than their eyelids slowly closed and all three were fast asleep, bundled up together in a corner of the room.
‘I’ll take first watch,’ announced Sir Peacealot.
‘After our encounter with those bat-rats I think we should expect anything,’ added Lady Dawnstar. ‘So I’ll take second watch if you don’t mind taking third, Logan.’
Logan nodded in agreement and set his bedroll out across the opening where they had entered the chamber, while Sir Peacealot sat himself against the opposite wall. Lady Dawnstar positioned herself at the foot of the now softly sleeping trio.
Something teased Frog awake and he opened his eyes to find that he was staring at the open mouth (and into the nostrils) of a softly snoring Ginger. The room looked strange in its self illuminating blue-grey light. He pulled himself up onto one elbow, rubbing an eye and taking in the scene. Everyone else was asleep. He had no idea if he had been asleep a few minutes or a few hours, but he felt a presence, a movement.
He looked around. Next to him, Fixer slept quietly, her arm draped across his waist. He removed it gently, feeling embarrassed should someone see. Lady Dawnstar lay on her side at his feet. Logan, his cloak wrapped around him, was stretched out by a doorway and Sir Peacealot, his back against a wall and his arms hanging limply by his sides, slept with his chin slumped against his chest. This was where Frog had to rub both of his eyes, for there, perched on Sir Peacealot’s lap, was a small white mouse, busily cleaning its whiskers. The mouse looked exactly like Merv, his own pet mouse back in his home across the timeless Dimension. Merv had a striking black streak running up from behind his head, between his ears and down to his nose. This mouse had the exact same markings.
‘Merv?’ Frog heard himself say, and then realised how daft he was being. He looked around again to make sure that no one had woken to see him trying to talk to a mouse.
The mouse stopped its cleaning, gave itself a little scratch with its hind leg and stared at Frog.
‘It’s all right,’ it announced. ‘They won’t wake up until I allow them to.’
‘Merv?’ Frog heard himself repeat involuntarily.
‘Well I hope that the resemblance is accurate, after all I’ve picked the image up from your subconscious,’ said the mouse. ‘However, I can change myself into some other form if you like, maybe a parent figure would be more comfortable for you?’
‘No. No,’ stammered Frog, quickly deciding that an image of one of his parents would be too much to deal with in the present circumstances. ‘You’ll do just fine.’
‘Good,’ said the mouse, sounding satisfied with itself. ‘I knew that this would be a pleasing likeness.’
‘You mean that you can read my memories?’ asked Frog.
‘I can take any image as long as it is represented in the mind,’ replied the mouse. ‘A mouse, a horse, a bird, even a tree. Or one of t
he more unpleasant creatures that exist in nightmares or the dark recesses of the psyche.’
‘Then what are you really?’ asked Frog as he built up the courage to move closer.
‘I am the Earth Sage.’
‘Really? But what do you actually look like? said Frog.
‘Patience, young Frog. All will be revealed. You must prove your worth to me. And I must judge the strengths of those that accompany you,’ the mouse replied.
‘Can’t you just show us the way out of here?’ Frog pleaded.
‘I do not control the Labyrinth. Only you have the solution, the answer is in your will to survive,’ the mouse explained.
‘I just knew it wasn’t going to be that easy,’ Frog said resignedly. ‘What have I got to do now?’
‘You have to convince the others to follow you, let you go in front. At the moment they still feel that it is their destiny to lead and protect you. They will not believe your story of our encounter. This is their world and they think that they know better, their vanity makes them vulnerable to disappointment and self-doubt. Those that have self-doubts are destined to wander the Labyrinth’s corridors forever. Your will is strong because of your desire to return to your home, your world.’
‘Tell me about it,’ said Frog. ‘So what you’re saying is that if they don’t let me make the decisions and take the lead, we’ll be stuck in here forever?’
‘The Labyrinth has not yet shown you all of its secrets, it has not yet challenged you, my young friend. It will try to mislead you and separate you. If you allow this then you will fail and you and I will not meet again to enable the release of the Blackwater.’
‘So what is this Blackwater?’ quizzed Frog.
‘It is the turning point, your moment of glory and Castellion’s salvation. But only if you figure out its use.’
‘I am so fed up with riddles,’ confessed Frog. ‘Nobody talks in plain language around here. No wonder there’s so much trouble.’
The mouse jumped down from Sir Peacealot’s lap and ran across the floor to the edge of the square pit. It turned and addressed Frog.