by Lizzy Ford
The snow grew deeper for him but remained shallow for the children. He stopped a few feet behind them, waiting for them to notice him.
Neither of them did.
They were a boy and girl, a couple of years apart with the boy close to ten and the girl younger. The boy wore the black coat and held his nose, which bled. The girl appeared concerned.
“We’re almost there,” she told him. “You’ll be safe.”
“You don’t have to go. You can go home,” he replied.
“I have to go with you,” she said with the gravity of a child. “How will I know where you are?”
The boy nodded. They clasped hands and began walking once more.
“Hello,” space knight called.
They continued, oblivious.
“Can you hear me?”
No response.
He thrashed through the snow to reach the children and walked around them.
They didn’t acknowledge him.
He studied them closely. The girl had blue eyes and dark hair, the boy as well. They didn’t look like siblings, though. Their clothes were worn and oversized, hand-me-downs, he guessed.
The space knight struggled through the snow, wanting to follow them as far as the hallucination would allow him to.
They climbed a hill that left him breathless and his legs aching. The cold was starting to creep in on him, to chill the tips of his ears and nose.
When he crested the hill, his focus left the children completely.
A castle squatted in the middle of the forest, a quarter of a mile away. Its drawbridge was secured and its windows dark, as if no one dwelt within.
Home.
The sight before him filled him with sudden, inexplicable joy. He could imagine the interior of the hold beyond the double walls, the soaring foyer flanked by doors, one of which lead to the great hall, the massive hearths that burned in the kitchens, the bedroom he’d spent his life sleeping in. He heard the crackle of fire and smelled burning wood.
How could he know this about a place he’d never visited?
“You found it,” said a cheerful voice.
The space knight opened his eyes.
A beverage gremlin held out a cup of something steaming to him.
It was a dream. Or a hallucination. Either way, it wasn’t real, as much as it felt like it was.
He accepted the drink. “Found what?” he asked, aware of the importance of the creature’s baffling wisdom.
“What you sought.”
“I wasn’t seeking this place,” he countered. “I was seeking …” He didn’t know what he sought. He sipped his mocha and shivered when its warmth slid down his throat. He hadn’t realized how cold he was.
“Maybe the answer and the question are right in front of you,” the philosophical gremlin stated.
Digesting her words, his gaze returned to the castle.
It was gone, and so were the children.
“One, two,” sang the coffee gremlin.
How could the creature dispense wisdom in one breath and sing about a murderer in the next?
The space knight tossed his coffee, threw his head back, and shouted, “Wake up!”
“Are you lost?” the little girl appeared in front of him.
“You shouldn’t be here right now,” he replied. He gazed around him for another door or worse, for Freddy Cougar.
“You shouldn’t be,” she retorted. “Come with me.”
The space knight shook his head and moved away from her. Freddy was coming, and he wasn’t going to endanger the girl – hallucination or not.
“You’ll be safe,” the girl said and held out her hand.
He experienced it again, the sense he did when he first saw the castle, that he’d discovered the answer. He found him stretching his arm towards her.
“He can’t get you,” she added. Her fierce gaze was on a point near the coffee gremlin.
The space knight growled in frustration. Freddy was waiting beside the gremlin, sipping from a cup.
Dark Invader went with the girl. She wasn’t a dinosaur, and she wasn’t a serial killer. By default, she won.
The moment he took her mittened hand, the snow around him no longer tried to swallow him. He stood in four inches instead of four feet.
“Where are we going?” he asked uneasily, not about to trust anything in the labyrinth, even a little girl.
“Somewhere safe.”
He twisted to make sure Freddy wasn’t preparing to attack.
The serial killer remained beside the gremlin.
“Why isn’t he trying to kill me?” he murmured.
“I won’t let him,” said the girl. “I won’t let you die.”
He eyed her doubtfully. She was maybe seventy pounds with her snow gear on. “Are you a monster in disguise?” he asked warily.
She giggled. “I’m Lizzy!”
“Lizzy.”
The girl smiled, displaying the same dimples Elf had.
“I always protect you,” she told him seriously. She stopped walking. “I won’t let you die. Ever.”
The space knight stood in the snow, shivering. Something about her conviction bothered him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what.
A door appeared in front of them, this one stone, similar to the stones of the labyrinth. His teeth clenched. The last time he was there, he was fleeing a fanged beast.
She released him. “There you go. You’re safe now!” She turned and began walking.
“Wait,” he called. “Why would you protect me?”
“I’ve always protected you,” she replied.
“That’s not possible. We only just met.”
“We met at the beginning.”
His heart skipped a beat. “The beginning,” he repeated. “Our beginning?”
She nodded.
“You’re … Elf?”
She giggled and nodded.
Why had he never seen this place before arriving to this planet? Elf had appeared in his life hours before the spaceship crashed here. It wasn’t a coincidence, but he couldn’t convince himself she had come here because she needed to protect him. If anything, she was the one more likely to wind up dead in this place.
The door creaked open, and he glanced towards the sound. He didn’t want to go through it. He wanted to ask the girl more questions about how they knew each other and how a place he’d never visited before could possibly be the beginning. And the beginning to what?
The girl was gone.
He turned in a full circle.
Freddy was moving towards him, swinging his talons and smiling.
Dark Invader reluctantly strode through the door.
He awoke in the labyrinth, flat on his face in the middle of a square of grass. His nose crinkled, and he pushed himself to his feet. Movement below him caught his attention. The dinosaurs were milling and moving, almost too tiny for him to see.
Sitting back on his heels, he thought long and hard about what the girl – little Elf – had told him. They’d always been connected, which he felt more certain of each time they interacted. He was no closer to understanding how, though he at least knew where the beginning was.
I always protect you, she had told him. What did that mean? He’d never seen her before she appeared with the rebels he was attempting to crush and from whom he planned to steal a unicorn.
What was he missing?
The farther he went into the labyrinth, the less he understood, with one exception: Elf. She was the key to whatever it was he sought, aside from the Ring. Did she know this? Or any of the answers?
Why did he need to be protected? Of the two of them, he was stronger and faster.
This question elicited a different kind of emotion, one he didn’t like at all. It was like the phantom feeling left over from a memory he’d forgotten. He couldn’t explain it, but it felt like, long ago, something very bad happened to him.
Was he the boy in the snow world? The one bleeding?
The space knight touche
d his nose. He’d never had a nosebleed that he could recall.
He also couldn’t remember growing up anywhere – ever.
Sleeping in the maze did nothing to rest his mind. He was as drained as before, and equally frustrated with what he’d learned. There were too many pieces for him to put everything together.
Standing, he looked around, surly and tired, and decided that, for reasons he felt but couldn’t understand, he needed to find Elf.
A dark crystal materialized in front of him. The labyrinth was rewarding him.
Nothing made sense, except for the instinct whispering for him to find her, that she was in danger.
Unable to make sense of answers with no questions, the space knight stalked through the labyrinth without knowing if he went in the right direction or not.
I snap awake.
Thrashing, I can’t break free of the vise around my arms.
“Chill out,” says a familiar voice. “He can’t hurt you now.”
Jared. His arms are wrapped around me, his solid form at my back. I release a breath and relax into his body. His breathing is calm and steady. I can’t recall ever having someone hold me like this, as if he’s shielding me from the rest of the world with his body.
I’ve never had anyone take care of me like that and often wonder what it would feel like not to be so alone all the time.
“Maybe we should stick together,” he says. By the note in his voice, he’s been through some shit, too.
“Yeah,” I manage.
He doesn’t release me quite yet, and we sit together. It felt natural to be with him at the coffee shop. I wanted to stay and talk to him forever. It feels just as natural now to be in his arms, and I want to remain here forever. How can that be, when he’s been somewhat of a jerk thus far? Why am I drawn to him, and him to me? What can possibly connect us, considering we’re basically strangers from two separate worlds?
He releases me and helps me stand. His hands stay on my arms. Feeling his gaze, I glance up.
“What?” I ask.
His expression is inscrutable, and I can’t help thinking about all the different characters he’s been over his lifetime. Like an actor, except each experience was real. Does he remember any of them? The Jared at the coffee shop did, but this is the first Jared. Or … the first I can remember.
We study one another. He’s not the same man who entered the labyrinth with me.
He found me both incidences we were separated. I’m not sure what to think about that, except that it makes me a little uneasy.
The scratches on my arm burn. Shifting away from his touch, I rub my forearms.
“I don’t need anyone to protect me,” he informs me firmly.
“Um, okay,” I reply, confused. “Did you find me just so you could rub that in? Because I probably do need someone to protect me.”
“I just wanted you to know that.”
He must’ve gone through something weird on his side of the labyrinth, because he’s not making sense to me.
“Ready?” Jared asks.
I nod. I’m not asking any more questions. I don’t have it in me.
We begin walking once more.
“What did you see on your side of the labyrinth?” I ask.
“Dinosaurs,” he replies with a shudder. “More nonsense than I care to discuss.”
“I saw dinosaurs, too. Cute little ones.”
“These were neither cute nor little,” he responds gravely. “I ran across a grave for Beetledude.”
Weird. We seem to have traded experiences.
“Someone tried to lead me out of the labyrinth. I almost went.” I shake my head to dispel the sense of gloom that’s descended over me. “How do you keep finding me in the knick of time?”
“I wish I knew. If I can find you, why can’t I find the castle at the center?”
I’m not exactly chopped liver over here, but I don’t say anything. We’re in this together, for now. When we find the castle and the Ring, all bets are off.
If. If we find the castle and ring.
“We don’t even know which way we’re going!” I cry in frustration. “Who’s to say there is a right way?”
“We have to keep going,” he replies.
“Why? Why do we have to go anywhere when we’re not getting any closer to our goal?”
“You don’t know that we aren’t.”
I stop and stare at a wall. The Lost Boys leapt over walls. “Have you tried climbing a wall yet?”
“No.”
Cracks and crags large enough for fingers and toes are spaced out all the way to the top. Random stones jut out from the uneven surface. I pick a spot, jam my fingers into one spot and step up on a stone block. Compared to the cliff, it’s not that high.
I make my way to the top with some difficulty. My body hasn’t recovered from any part of this adventure, and I’m tired from running away from Freddy in a dream.
I’m panting by the time I make it to the top of the wall. Hauling my upper body over it to remove the weight from my shaky arms, I gaze out over the maze.
There’s no castle in the middle.
There’s no middle.
“What do you see?” Jared calls.
“Well, first, I think we should be walking on top of the walls instead of trapped between them,” I answer. “Second … no castle. Or mountain or cliff.”
“How can that be?”
“Come look!”
A minute later, he’s leaning over the top of the wall alongside me. The walls are four feet wide and solid, thick enough to support us if we decide to walk on top.
My insides are shaky as well as my limbs. I swallow hard. I want to cry again, because I don’t know what else to do. This is hell. It has to be.
“It means nothing,” Jared says with a glance at me. “We didn’t find the cliff until the cabbage people led us there last time. Remember? We might be looking right at it and not know it.”
Nodding, I swallow hard and heft myself up onto the top of the wall.
“How much longer do you think this will last?” I can’t keep the despair out of my voice.
“I can’t answer that,” he says. “But I know we have to keep going. There’s no other choice.”
I know it. I’m just tired and upset.
We stand and begin walking on top of the labyrinth. It spreads out to reach the horizon in every direction. I can’t even tell if I’m leading us the right way or not.
“We’ll know because we reach more obstacles,” he says.
“I thought you couldn’t read minds.”
“I can’t. We’re probably thinking the same thing.”
“Whatever.” I’m not interested in his villain mind tricks. I have to focus on placing my feet so I don’t break down and cry again.
Obviously, I’m not leaping ten feet across the walkway to the other wall. I take the paths that come to us and look up occasionally, hoping the castle or cliff appears.
“This is all my fault,” I say.
“What?”
“Being tossed into the labyrinth again. We were almost there.”
“If we got there once, we can do it again. Don’t worry, Elf.”
He sounds genuinely supportive.
Tick.
Tick.
It turns suddenly into twilight again.
The moons are overlapping.
We can’t possibly make it before they eclipse one another. It’d take a miracle or more cabbage people, and I don’t think we’re going to find the cabbage people in this level.
“Do you see that?” Jared asks quietly.
I scour our surroundings for what he might be talking about.
“Snow,” I breathe. It floats from a part of the sky without clouds in a four by four foot square a hundred feet away.
I start towards it at a trot, the top speed at which I feel safe on the walls. I stop at the pile of snow gathering only here.
“More snow!” Jared is pointing another hundred feet away.
We dash towards the snow, pause when we reach it, and wait for more to appear. It does, but this time, in a direction we can’t reach along this wall.
I sit on the edge and identify a plausible way down before twisting and stretching with one leg towards my first foothold.
Jared steadies me and takes my arms, releasing them one at a time when I’m stable. I climb down the wall, followed closely by him, and land in the middle of the path.
“I’ll go first,” he says as I start to the opposite wall.
I step aside. Either way, we’re both going up the wall. He conquers the wall with far more agility than I’ve ever possessed, even as a child. Envious, I begin climbing. When I’m close enough to the top, he takes my wrists and pulls me up the rest of the way. He releases me and wraps one arm around me to steady me.
I catch a whiff of his scent and gaze at the scratches across his chest.
“Thanks,” I murmur.
He lets me go and steps away. “I’m sorry I haven’t been the best traveling companion.”
That’s different.
I study the back of his head as we walk. I hate the feeling settling into my gut, that I almost knew what it is we’re searching for. Because, it’s not a ring. Or not a ring alone. It’s an answer, too, the one he asked me when he sought me out in my world.
“Jared,” I start and then hesitate.
How do I ask what I want to know, when this Jared only knows about his first adventure? It’s not like my question will make sense to this version of him. He’d have to grow through another two-dozen stories before he’s ready for me to ask about why he found me.
“Yes?”
“Never mind,” I murmur.
I’m disappointed in myself. Not just for my inability to navigate a labyrinth I created but also because I didn’t notice Jared as a character until he confronted me in person. I should’ve paid more attention to my writing.
We reach the next small patch of snow. As soon as we do, more snow falls from the sky a short distance away.
It happens six more times, twice on opposite sides of the corridor, where we have to climb down the wall and back up again. By the time we encounter the seventh pile of snow, we’re exhausted.
Jared rests his hands on his hips and tosses head back, gazing at the moons. I kneel to rest my legs. The scratches on my arm sting, which is driving me crazy. It’s one thing to be trapped in a stupid maze, another to feel pain.