Power of the Lost

by Cebelius

  "I made no such promise for silence," she replied carelessly. "I wonder what you'll taste like. Well, actually I don't wonder. That's one of the reasons I bit you. You'll be delicious. I've had her kind before. A bit gamey, but she'll do for an appetizer."

  She paused, then glanced off absently as she wondered aloud. "I wonder if any sphinx on Celestine has ever had template meat? And oooh! I got your bond first! Fucked and fed by a template. My sisters will be so jealous."

  "Any ideas?" Terry asked, looking at Mila and doing his best to block out the sphinx as she started rambling off the various ways she was considering cooking him.

  Lady sounds almost like that guy from Forrest Gump. Boiled Mack. Baked Mack. Grilled Mack. Fried Mack, Mack fondue, Mack flambé, Mack fricassee, Mack a la mode ...

  Oddly enough, that thought calmed him down a bit. Seeking levity in the face of death was becoming a bit too much of a habit perhaps, but he needed to focus, and to focus he needed to be not terrified out of his mind. Laughing helped, at least it seemed to.

  "Terry, I don't want to die here, but I can't think of anything that would answer that woman's riddle. Fear maybe? Or hate?"

  Terry considered those possibilities, but something about them didn't seem right, and after a moment he shook his head and said, "Fear and hate withdraw. I don't know any emotion that doesn't, or can't. This is something else."

  He glanced around, searching his environment for inspiration. What he saw didn't help. A roar sounded in the jungle, and it was very close by. As he heard it, he noticed a wavering in the air above and around the clearing. He saw the wagon and a sudden thought occurred to him.

  "Wait here. I'll be back in ten seconds," he said, already on the run to the back of the wagon. There he scooped up his backpack and opened it as he said, "In. IN!"

  Spiders seemed to scurry from all directions, some abandoning webs to stuff themselves into his pack.

  Another roar sounded, this one closer, and the rippling effect in the air around them became a violent distortion. Terry got the impression that the roar was somehow disrupting the magic, and knew they didn't have long.

  He slung his pack over his shoulder and ran back to Mila, who had her hand out to him, eyes wide as she leaned on her staff. Her tail was lashing, and it was obvious she was utterly terrified.

  "What do we do?!" she hissed. "I still cannot solve the riddle!"

  Terry's eyes squeezed shut as he did his best to force his mind into high gear as he muttered, "Give me a sec."

  It never withdraws, never atones, and is never alone. Never alone ... threatens all who seek common cause ... come on T-Mack, it has to be something. There IS an answer, one right answer.

  "It looks like your time is running out, Mister Mack," Sphinx said as a third roar caused a flare of light in all directions. He knew instinctively that the spell had shattered, and it revealed the head of a dragon at the edge of the trees as utterly unlike Asturial as it was possible to be and yet remain obviously what she was. She had brilliantly green scales and a frill around her neck that made the otherwise slim reptilian face and muzzle look fat to the point of being almost comical. Her body was long and sinewy, curling and coiling back among the trees as she opened her mouth and hissed. Also with her was a veritable army of insect-like people, and they began rushing the clearing.

  As they stampeded toward him, Terry locked eyes with the sphinx. It wasn't too late. Sphinx was still waiting for his answer.

  Threatens all who seek common cause? All? And never alone. Something that only exists in company. A secret? No, that's stupid.

  "KILL!"

  The dragon did not roar, but hissed the word, and Terry whirled, ripping the mask from his face to yell, "I AM A TEMPLATE!"

  "FREEZE!"

  Terry secured his mask and turned back to the Sphinx as his mind returned to the riddle. With one hand he wrapped an arm around Mila's waist and pulled her in close so that no one could pick her off without risking hitting him.

  "Sphinx," the dragon said, her voice still a quiet hiss. "I will be taking him."

  "That man is my dinner, and you will most certainly not be taking him," Sphinx said primly. "Take the tiger if you must. I have no interest in her."

  "I will destroy you, Sphinx. Surely you understand that you are outmatched."

  This is all wrong. This whole place is WRONG.

  Terry felt Mila bury her face in his neck. She took a deep breath, then a step back as she raised her staff. She was preparing to fight, to die. He could see her magic gathering. He heard the rustling of the insect warriors all around him.

  We can't go out like this. I can't get cannibalized by a woman I JUST laid! That's not just wrong, it's ...

  He blinked. It couldn't be that simple, could it? He ran it through all the lines of the riddle, and as far as he could see, it fit.

  It fit perfectly.

  Glancing up quickly, he met Sphinx's eyes and said, "I know the answer."

  "Your next word will likely be your last, Mister Mack," Sphinx said quietly. "Make it good."

  "If I cannot have him, neither will you!" the dragon hissed, drawing breath in prelude to what Terry was sure would be a gout of fire.

  The insect folk surged forward in a wave as he met the sphinx's captivating green-gold eyes and yelled to be heard over the chaos.

  "Evil!"

  All at once the deadly intent on the sphinx's face and in her eyes vanished. She smiled at him, genuinely, for the first time since the challenge began. In that mischievous expression Terry was given a fraction of a second of insight. For all the other riddles, Sphinx had remained silent. It was only for his riddle that she had taunted him and deliberately sought to terrify him.

  She was giving me hints!

  Sphinx raised her feral hands. Terry looked her in the eye and mouthed, "Thank you."

  She winked, then applauded.

  He saw a bright flash, and found himself elsewhere.

  19

  Cube

  Mila stumbled and Terry reached out, wrapping a hand around her waist. She curled into him instinctively, then backed rapidly away and struck the stone floor with her staff. The comforting weight of it in her hand reassured her, and she leaned on it instead ... though it made a poor substitute.

  I can't lean on him. Not here.

  She looked around and saw that everyone else was there. Her brother caught her up in the next instant and she hugged him without reservation. She had been seconds away from death, and now ... what?

  The room they were in was square. No, it was a cube. Twenty feet from floor to ceiling, and twenty feet on a side. All the surfaces were cut and mortared stone, and looked neither new nor particularly old.

  Centered in each wall was a simple wooden door with a pull-ring halfway down on the left side. An iron ladder anchored in the floor and ceiling gave access to a trapdoor centered in the ceiling, and ended at an identical trapdoor on the floor. The only other detail was a bronze plaque set next to one of the doors on the left.

  Asturial and Marcus were already considering the plaque. Mila watched Terry embrace his own women in turn, then go to have a look for himself.

  "Are you well?" Yuri asked, speaking softly so as not to be overheard by others.

  "I am well, brother. It was a close thing. The dragon arrived, but Terry solved the riddle and we were transported away."

  She hesitated, then said, "I am not sure how the sphinx will survive."

  Yuri nodded, searching her face, his own concern plain. She felt her ears warming with self-conscious embarrassment and she pushed him gently away as she said, "I am fine. What have you discovered?"

  Her brother's expression soured as he said, "More riddles."

  As though to punctuate Yuri's dissatisfaction, Terry groaned and asked, "What the fuck does that even mean?! That's not a riddle, that's nonsense!"

  Mila exchanged a glance with her brother, then walked over and had a look for herself.

  The plaque had what did indeed loo
k like a nonsense rhyme.

  Free the sun and

  Right the moon

  Leave the path and

  Reap your doom

  Find the course and

  Brave no danger

  Back once more and

  Down for stranger

  She read it through twice, then blinked and turned away. The rest of the room was extraordinarily plain. The doors — to all outward appearances — were identical. The walls were identical. The floor and the ceiling matched each other perfectly. The very unremarkability of the room made it remarkable. It was obvious to Mila that the focus was to be the curious rhyme on the wall; that nothing else in the room would be of any help.

  So ... it cannot be nonsense, at least not entirely.

  As she looked around though, there was no evidence of a sun or moon. There wasn't any danger, nor any indication of a path or course.

  "Should we just open one of the doors?" Laina asked.

  Marcus, Yuri, and Mila all whipped around to look as they yelled, "No!"

  Laina jerked her hand away from the iron ring of the door on the right hand wall from the plaque and put both of them behind her back, looking somewhat sheepish.

  Yuri explained.

  "The legends of the Labyrinth agree on only one thing, Laina. We cannot afford to make mistakes in here. They will be lethal."

  "Okay," Terry said, backing away from the plaque and shaking his head. "I gotta ask. Yuri? What the hell is this place, and how did we wind up here? I mean, I know what just happened, but I don't know why it happened."

  Yuri looked at Mila, then at Marcus before glancing back at Terry with a simple shrug. "To tell you the truth? I do not know."

  "The Labyrinth belongs to Ariadne," Marcus rumbled, surprising Mila. The big man was sparing in his words, and whenever he did choose to speak, she had learned to listen.

  "She rules here, from the center," the minotaur added. "If we want to gain the rewards of the Labyrinth and escape, we must reach her."

  Everyone was quiet for a moment, then Shy said, "Given what you have said, and what it took to get to this room ... that doesn't happen very often."

  Marcus shook his heavy head, then pointed to the ax in Laina's hand as he said, "That ax was awarded to the last minotaur to reach the center of the Labyrinth. That was one thousand six hundred forty-eight years and two months ago. My ancestor, Ferdinand the Great, was the one to retrieve it."

  Mila saw Terry wince and cover his eyes, then pull his hand down his face as though to wipe all expression from it. She found the gesture curious, but chose not to remark on it. A moment later he said, "So is that the last time the Labyrinth appeared, or just the last time someone got through?"

  "The Labyrinth moves whenever someone enters," Yuri said. "Scholars from many civilizations have attempted to predict where it will appear, but so far no one I know of has been able to do so."

  Marcus shrugged and said, "Ariadne chooses."

  "And the last person to get through here was sixteen hundred years ago? Are you serious?" Terry asked.

  "The last tauren," Mila said. "No one knows who the last person to successfully navigate the Labyrinth was except Ariadne, and she does not communicate with the outside world. There is a reason she is called the Power of the Lost."

  "Okay," Terry said, clearly at something of a loss himself. "Well, all these doors are magic, but nothing else in here is, so my new power is no fucking help. There's no difference I can see in any of the doors."

  Mila tilted her head, tail lashing as she asked, "You obtained the power to see magic from the sphinx?"

  "Far as I know," he said, shrugging. "Your staff is glowing, so is Shy's rod. My backpack and Marcus' too."

  "Colors," Mila said quickly. "Can you see different colors?"

  "Yeah," he said, nodding. "Shy's staff and yours are just ... glowing. No colors. Both my backpack and Marcus' are glowing ... hell I don't know. Brown ... ish? But they're also glitching, like the color is laced with static. It's hard to explain."

  "If anything you see glows, you must tell us immediately!" Mila said, stepping over and putting a hand on the template's shoulder. "This power of yours may save us. The ability to see magical effects without the use of a spell is very rare, Terry. Your bond with the sphinx may be just the edge we need."

  He smiled slightly, then shrugged and shook his head as he waved a hand around. "Like I said, all the doors are glowing blue. I can't see any differences."

  "What kind of blue?" Mila asked.

  Terry's brow furrowed, and she specified, "Sky blue, or ocean blue?"

  He glanced around and said, "Uh, sky blue, why?"

  "Air magic," she said. "The doors will very likely send us somewhere if we open them. Your power is not useless. It tells us that we cannot simply wander around in here. If we guess, and guess wrong, we could find ourselves in very deep trouble."

  "Didn't we already know that though?" he asked.

  Mila scowled at him, and he put his hands up in mock surrender. She poked at his chest as she said, "You open all doors, and you need to tell us, immediately, when you see anything magical."

  He blinked, then chuckled and shook his head. "With great power comes a job as a glorified Polish mine detector. Got it. Ahh ... fuck my life."

  "What is a Polish mine detector?" Mila asked.

  Terry pointed at his feet, then — when she looked at him uncomprehendingly — said with an air of resignation, "Never mind."

  Prada was giggling as she said, "I got it." Mila hadn't noticed, but at some point the little blob had reattached itself to Terry and resumed her identity as a sash.

  Terry smirked as he said, "Yeah, but you cheat."

  Looking up and around, he asked, "Anyone got a clue what we're supposed to do with that rhyme on the wall?"

  No one did, and Terry said, "Then I hope you folks don't mind ... since it doesn't seem like anyone else is going to show up, I'm going to get some sleep. Yuri's beating pretty much wore me out."

  He set his pack down, shooed several spiders out of his way as they scurried free, then used it for a pillow. As he settled, he murmured, "You know the rules."

  Prada made no verbal reply, but after a moment's hesitation she left his body to pool as a droplet next to him. After another moment, her substance twisted into a coil, and she formed herself into a snake that looked identical to one of the strands of Euryale's hair, with jet black scales and red eyes.

  Terry quirked a brow at that, shrugged, then closed his eyes. To all appearances, he was asleep within moments.

  Yuri, who along with most of the others had been absorbed with trying to decipher the riddle on the wall, glanced over at him a few moments later and said, "Well, he has come a long way from the man who could not fall asleep without whimpering down in Monsoon."

  "Yuri," Mila said, her tone one of reproach. "We said we would not speak of that."

  "What? He is asleep!"

  Prada twisted up a bit and her jaws parted, rippled, and moved unnaturally — at least for a snake — as she spoke. "His world is nothing like Celestine. The hardships he faced there did not prepare him for dungeoneering."

  Laina glanced over and, keeping her voice down so as not to wake Terry, asked, "Can you tell us about it? Boss won't talk about where he came from."

  "He has his reasons," Prada said simply. "He would not appreciate me going behind his back."

  "So there is nothing you can say?" Mila asked. She exchanged a glance with Laina, then looked back as she said, "Surely there is something. Some insight. I honestly expected him to break, but though he came close he never did. He fears as much as anyone, more than some, but still he does not run from his troubles. I too want to know more."

  Prada wove back and forth as though charmed, giving Mila the impression she was thinking, then said, "My husband grew up surrounded by people who ran from their troubles. He learned many lessons in childhood, but none so thoroughly as self-reliance."

  Laina folded her arms a
s she scowled at Prada and said, "We figured that out a while ago. I'm talking about, what was it like? He said there was music everywhere, for instance."

  Prada smirked, which looked outright bizarre on a snake, and nodded as she said, "There was. In a direct comparison of worlds I would say there isn't much to recommend his over Celestine, but they did have music. An endless variety of music like nothing you've ever heard."

  Mila wondered what that would be like. She loved music and sang on occasion, but it wasn't a priority in her life. She asked, "Is there anything else he misses?"

  "Certainly," Prada said. "Air conditioning, running shoes, caffeine, boxer briefs, tooth paste, toilet paper, flush toilets, and hot showers."

  Mila exchanged a blank look with Laina as the snake added, "Like I said, he's got reasons for not talking about his old life, one of which is that you have no point of reference for most of it. He tries not to whine."

  "I know what a toilet is," Laina said defensively. "They had them at Florence Keep."

  Prada just laughed, and Mila didn't think it worth pursuing. Instead, she returned her attention to where Terry lay, and said, "He is relying on us now."

  "Yes, it does seem that way," Prada said with a glance down at his sleeping form. "Perhaps we should return our concentration to the riddle?"

  "Well, there is nothing to do in this room except leave it, so the riddle must involve picking which door to go through," Shy said, having never really taken her eyes off the plaque. "There are direction words here: right, back, and down."

  Yuri tilted his head as he looked at the plaque, then asked, "Marcus, what do you think? Can it really be that simple?"

  The big man glanced around, then back at the riddle on the wall.

  "Maybe," he said at last.

  Mila joined the others in a discussion of the riddle, but there was scant evidence for any theory beyond Shy's. Prada remained coiled next to Terry and said nothing.

  Mila caught both Shy and Laina glancing in that direction and at each other, but neither moved. She could tell that both of them were worried about the riddle, and were putting their desire to go to their man aside.