Xilus raised a finely arched brow, looked Marina over from head to toe, and then looked her over once again.
“Tough town, Sumdall,” Xilus said with a yawn. “All that magic and spells. Bad for business, I say.”
“And Id be the first to agree,” Ridley said.
“Fine. So what do you want with me?”
“I can see that, sir. I’ll cut this short and get out of your way. I understand you’ve got the Eye of the Dragon here. I’d like to talk you out of that little trinket if I may.”
The thieves gathered close about Xilus broke into laughter, but Xilus stopped them with a many-jeweled hand.
“Never mind these fools, my friend. A perfectly reasonable request. Always happy to help a fellow thief. Especially one from out of town.” Xilus found something under a fingernail, gave it a curious look, and bit it with his teeth. “While you’re here, there’s some interesting sights you ought to see. There’s the Ever-Flowing Fountain, though I don’t believe it’s running right now, the Museum of Blood, and—say, have you ever heard of the Antius Guild Maze?”
“No, I can’t say I have. Sounds like fun, though.”
“Oh, it is.” Xilus shot a lewd wink at Marina. “What’s even more fun, if you make it through that is, is that the Eye of the Dragon is the prize.”
Ridley felt a sudden chill. “Uh, has anyone ever finished it before?”
“Not exactly, no, but they all died trying.”
The assembled smelly louts thought this was a riot. They laughed until they cried. It occurred to Ridley, though, they might simply laugh at whatever their leader said.
* * *
“You don’t have to do this,” Marina told Ridley, who was standing before the iron gate the barred the way to the famed Guildmaster’s Maze. “We’ll get the ruby some other way.”
“Oh? Just what did you have in mind?”
Ridley, standing at the entry to the maze, knew how a bullock felt as the butchers led him to the slaughterhouse. The very same gawkers lined the high wall above, waving and cheering the dull-eyed victim on.
“You think of something,” Ridley said, “you let me know, but you’d better make it fast.”
Marina bit her lip. “I feel just awful. I got you into this.”
“Yes, that’s true. You certainly did.”
“Ridley—”
“Hey! No problem. I do this all the time.”
“You do?”
“What? You think I’m out of my mind?”
With that, he stalked down the narrow corridor, waved to the crowd, and kicked open the gate to the maze.
CHAPTER
18
Blue beams of light sliced across one stone wall to the other.
Aside from hundreds of tiny dust motes dancing softly through the light, nothing moved in the chamber. Everything seemed perfectly safe. Too safe. Ridley paused, studied the scene, and thrust one hand through the first beam. A frighteningly sharp spike sprang up from the floor and stopped inches from Ridley’s crotch. Ridley froze, startled, but ever so grateful that the spike had not proceeded another two inches. Eyeing the floor for more traps, Ridley cautiously stepped around the spike and continued down the hall.
Another beam of light pierced the shadows just ahead. Standing well away, Ridley waved his hand through the sparkling dust motes, then took a quick step back. A great, crescent-shaped axe with a shiny iron blade swung out of one wall. Ridley jumped back, and the blade neatly parted his hair before swinging back again. Ridley leaped up and slammed his boots against the floor, halting only inches from the next beam of light. The axe swung back, but Ridley wasn’t there.
The crowd above roared, a din that deafened Ridley down below. He could see nothing ahead of him now, only the beams of light, and that worried Ridley a lot. Something was there, and he could only guess what. He could sense the danger, feel it in the hairs on his arms, in the tingle of his legs—
He threw himself quickly aside, hard against the right wall, and clambered into something—bones! Ridley stared at them in horror. He’d fallen into the long-dried remains of the last person who’d braved the maze.
Peering down the shadowed corridor, he grasped a long dusty bone from the pile and sent it twirling through the lancing beams of light. One massive blade, then another, and another after that—six in all—whirred out of the wall.
“These guys are crooks,” Ridley muttered to himself. “This game is fixed, and I’m sliced meat.”
Drawing a breath, cursing life and cursing death, he grabbed the haft of the nearest axe as it swept past his face, pulled himself atop, balanced there an instant, then made his way dizzily from one swinging weapon to the next.
The crowd went mad. They loved the action, the danger, the suspense… as long it was happening to somebody else. Some moaned in anger; some cheered in delight. Some tore up useless bets and tossed them like snowflakes in the air.
* * *
“A thousand gold pieces he makes it!” Snails said, shouting at Xilus and taking a good long look at the maiden stroking the Guildmaster’s head.
“Why, I’d be delighted,” Xilus said, showing Snails his teeth. “You’ll lose, of course. The fellow doesn’t have a chance.”
Marina leaned in to whisper in Snails’ ear. “Do you have a thousand gold pieces?”
Snails looked appalled. “Of course not! I don’t imagine there are half that many gold pieces in the world!”
* * *
For a moment, Ridley could sense no obstacles at all. The room was absolutely bare, but lavishly decorated for all that. Walls and floor were completely covered in hundreds of large ornate tiles, and on each tile were strange markings and symbols. Ridley could see no two alike. Other than that… nothing. A doorway beckoned on the opposite side of the chamber.
Ridley took a hesitant step into the room, and in an instant, both ends of the corridor blossomed into flame, stranding him square in the middle of it all.
“Filthy cheats!” Ridley shouted, shaking his fist at the audience above. “You won’t give a man a chance. It’s not bloody fair at all!”
As the flames continued to roar only a foot over his head, Ridley drew his sword and began an awkward crouching walk forward, studying the colored tiles before him. He spotted a blue one and pressed it with the tip of his sword. The flames intensified.
The air was stifling, painful. Another minute, and the air would be too hot to breathe. Steeling his nerves, Ridley pressed down on the next tile, a red one this time. Nothing happened. Desperate to be out of the room, Ridley leaped onto the red tile.
As suddenly as they’d begun, the flames stopped. Ridley grinned just as a sharp click echoed in the chamber, and the smile dropped from his face. With a sickening grinding sound, the wall behind him began to move forward at an alarming speed, and the door on the other end of the room began to slide closed. Left with no other choice, Ridley leaped, landed, and lurched into a desperate run.
He half-felt tiles sinking ever-so-slightly beneath him, and again flames erupted from the walls. He ducked and dodged his way through the flames and refused to look back. Over the roar of the flames, he could still hear the incessant grinding of the wall only a few paces behind him.
Ridley stumbled and fell, his sword clattering beside him. His foot landed hard on a red tile, and there was a faint hum, then an audible click. The red tile flipped over, and this side was a yellow that glowed like bronze beneath the flames. He was about to pick himself up when all of the red tiles in the room began flip in rapid succession, each revealing a bright yellow.
Not caring what that might mean, Ridley retrieved his sword and made one last desperate lunge for the door. Flames roared around him, and he dived through the doorway, rolling as he hit the ground. The door slid shut behind him, cutting off the roar of the flames. Ridley inspected himself, sure that he’d been scorched in a dozen places. The sleeve of his jacket was smoking slightly, but other than that, he seemed to have escaped unscathed.
&n
bsp; The room in which he found himself was small and dimly lit by a cold blue light for which he could see no source. In the center of the opposite wall was an intricate lock upon a vast door. Ridley had never seen such a locking mechanism. In the midst of wicked-looking iron jaws was a large stone hand holding a fat hourglass, bigger than his head.
He felt the short hairs climb the back of his neck. Wiping the sweat from his eyes, he peered into the darkness above. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there, ringed about the high wall, all of them silent now—Marina and Snails waiting for him to try, Xilus and his odorous crew waiting for him to die.
“All right!” he shouted. “Let’s do it! It isn’t going to get any more fun than this!”
He stepped forward, but before he was within an arm’s length of the lock, the stone hand turned, and sand began to flow. He couldn’t believe it was flowing so fast. Damnation! Couldn’t they get any coarser sand than that?
As Ridley approached the lock, a low rumble reached him from above, and he looked up. From the ceiling, a grate of iron spikes began to descend into the room, and in front of him, the sharp iron jaws surrounding the lock began to chomp open and shut, again and again.
“That’s it?” Ridley yelled, waving his fist at the unseen audience above. “Nothing else? You can’t think of anything more than that? How about some vipers? Got any cobras, something like that? Maybe some spiders? I love spiders—the big hairy kind! Hey! Send that purple lout with three eyes down here! He looks like a spider! That’s close enough for me!”
Ridley knew he was wasting precious time and really didn’t care. He was beat, worn to a frazzle. His head was exploding, and his knees wouldn’t work properly. His hands were shaking and wouldn’t stop.
He bent to the lock, knowing he couldn’t do it, but knowing he had to try. He knew this was clearly the final stage of the maze. The builders had saved the most cunning, devious tricks for this final act. Ridley felt strangely calm. The time for fear was past. He knew this last challenge for what it was: impossible to solve. There was no reason, no logic, no pattern here at all. And that, he knew, was what the maze builders had in mind. If any man got this far, the final trick would break him, let him know he’d been a fool to try. Before him, he saw the last of the sand begin its way down the slick surface of the hourglass. He had a few seconds at best.
Ridley stopped and took a deep breath. Whatever he did would kill him. Whatever he did would be wrong.
He slowly backed away from the device. The sand in the hourglass was nearly gone. The spikes were so close that he knew he’d feel them begin to bite at any moment. He wondered if Marina and Snails were watching, if Snails had the sense to try to get her out of there before the end.
The spikes touched his skin. Ridley turned his head aside, took a breath, and saw the hourglass. The barest whisper of sand remained, and just like that, Ridley saw the solution. He’d know in half a second if he was right, know if he’d live or die…
With one swift stroke, Ridley brought his sword around in a hissing arc and shattered the glass. With a shriek of metal gears, the iron jaws froze wide-open, and the grate stopped and began to rise again. Ridley turned to see the studded face of the heavy iron vault spring open wide.
He knew that he’d won, that he’d guessed the last dirty secret of the maze.
He could see his prize there in the next chamber. Nesting on a black velvet cushion, bathed in a warm red light, was a blood-red ruby, the Eye of the Dragon, glowing with a fiery, inner light of its own.
CHAPTER
19
They gathered around him in Xilus’ dungeon, a cheering collection of thieves resplendent in silks, rags, or scarcely anything at all. Each told Ridley he was a great, fine, most respected man, that he would surely never be forgotten as long as Antius stood, as it had for a thousand years.
Then, as a body, as a single breath, they ran to Xilus’ big gaudy bar for another mug of ale. The losers, those who’d bet against Ridley living, were already there drowning their sorrows and empty purses in ale and sour beer.
Marina gave him an almost tender hug. Snails, with tears in his eyes, told Ridley how relieved he was to see his old friend and what a joy it was to win more than ten thousand pieces of gold from a number of thieves, including Xilus himself.
“Well, I’m glad I could make your fortune,” Ridley said. “Mind if I take a look?”
“I don’t have my winnings yet, but everyone’s promised to pay this afternoon.”
“In other words, you’ll never see a copper,” Ridley said.
“I know,” Snails said, “but I did win, and that’s almost the same.”
Xilus, totally exhausted from watching Ridley’s ordeal, was back on his tasteless couch, eating peeled grapes from a girl in a gown that was formerly a drape.
“My most sincere congratulations,” Xilus said. “Very clever. Well done, you. That last little bit, you know, I’ve always liked that. You were absolutely marvelous.” Xilus gave Ridley a sly and crooked grin. “Not easy, you know. One has to be an idiot to try it, yet smart enough to win.”
“And I came along.”
“Bless you, lad, you did! And I couldn’t be happier that you made it out alive.”
“Thank you,” Ridley replied.
“Oh, no, no, no,” Xilus said. “Thank you. You know, I’ve waited fifteen years for someone to come along and pick that lock.” Xilus threw back his head and laughed. As ever, the laugh was echoed by the fetching young women and the unwashed thieves, who mirrored Xilus’ every emotion, every possible need. “Now, my friend,” the Guildmaster said, leaning forward and brushing a maiden aside, “now I would be most grateful if you’d give me what’s rightfully mine.”
Ridley gave the man a weary sigh. “Now why am I not surprised to hear this? Still, it hurts me to see you break the code of honor among thieves.”
“Honor’s for fools, my friend,” Xilus replied with an almost genuine smile. “Quite a romantic notion, but do you really think I could have amassed all this wealth if I worried about honor?” Still smiling, Xilus extended an open hand to Ridley. Several of the thieves behind him drew their weapons. “Now, if you don’t mind, hand it over. Please.”
“Marina,” Ridley said without taking his eyes off of Xilus, “I told you there’s no place for magic in the stealing profession. It’s possible that I lied. If you would, please turn all of these odorous louts into lice. It shouldn’t be too hard. They’re all halfway there already.”
“I can try,” Marina said. “I’m not real sure that I—”
Xilus’ jaw dropped, the smile gone. “Halluk! Hugo! Get her out of here, now!”
Two burly thieves detached themselves from the crowd and came at Marina on the run, but before they had crossed half the distance, two crimson arrows buried themselves in their throats.
An angry roar erupted from the crowd. As one, the band of thieves turned to look behind them, swords and sharp axes already in their hands.
Ridley stood at Marina’s side, weapon at the ready, Snails protecting his back.
“Whoever it is,” Ridley shouted about the din, “I think we’re going to be best friends!”
“No!” Marina gasped. “Oh, no!”
Marina’s fingers bit into his arm. Ridley looked past her. The horde of cutthroats had suddenly gone quiet. They hastily stepped aside, and Damodar marched through them, a squad of crimson-armored killers at his back.
“Well, isn’t this fine?” Damodar said. “All of you together! Thieves among thieves. I trust you’re in good health?”
“Who the hell is he?” Xilus demanded, struggling to his feet. “Who the hell are you? I don’t know you, sir, and I don’t like people I don’t know.”
“Patience, or you’ll know me too well.” Damodar turned to Ridley. “This is very tiresome to me. I’ll take the map if you will, and that lovely stone as well—then we can talk about how quickly you die.”
“Sure,” Ridley said, “it’s too big fo
r a ring, anyway.”
He tossed the stone high into the air. Damodar and every soldier, thief, and parasite in the place looked up to follow its flight. Before they could glance down again, Ridley drew the scroll from his belt, grabbed a torch from Xilus’ wall, and set a corner of the parchment afire.
“Got you!” Snails grinned as he caught the red stone coming down.
Damodar’s ruined face turned hideous shades of purple and red.
“Put it down,” he said softly. “Put it down now, or you’ll wish you’d never been born.”
“Sure, try to sweet talk me. Won’t do you any good.”
Ridley held up the smoldering map for everyone to see. “Here’s the map you’ll need to find the rod, friend. Clear a nice, wide path for us, and I’ll think about putting it out.”
Damodar didn’t hesitate. “Do it,” he ordered, and his warriors moved aside.
“Marina! Snails!” Ridley blew out the small flame but kept the torch close by. “Everyone, we have to leave, but I hope you’ll all stay and enjoy yourselves. The party’s on Xilus and his Ugliness here.”
Damodar glared and clenched his fists. The taught skin of his head writhed and rippled, a living thing.
Snails shuddered. “You look awful, friend. You ought to see somebody about that.”
“Snails,” Ridley said, “watch Xilus and his bunch. Marina, keep your eye on these crimson-clad uglies. We’re going out the way we—Hey! No!”
From the corner of his eye, Ridley saw Xilus make his move. Damodar turned, too late, and Xilus bowled him over, slamming him to the ground.
The courtyard exploded in a riot of armored soldiers and ragged thieves. Snails struck whoever was standing close by. Ridley kicked a Crimson Brigadier in the belly, grabbed Marina, and pulled her away. She was shouting something he couldn’t hear. He took two steps, and someone hit him hard, spilling him to the ground.
The scroll and the torch flew out of his hands. Ridley shook his head, gasping to get his breath back. Marina was gone. The scroll was out of sight, lost somewhere in a forest of kicking, slashing boots and dirty bare feet. He saw the torch, grabbed for it, and missed. It rolled away and stopped at a pink and green satin wall-hanging.
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