by carl ashmore
‘What’s a pagidizor?’ Becky asked.
‘Well, it’s nothing spectacular to look at, rather like a calculator,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘But, in fact, it’s a most ingenious piece of kit. When pressed, the pagidizor engages a series of temporal waves that stimulates sequential displacement and emits what we call a spatial flare.’
‘Uh?’ Becky grunted.
‘Basically,’ Uncle Percy said, ‘it sends a distress signal to our time, so the Trackers can come and get you. It’s a wonderful gadget, really.’
‘Then use your pagidiwotsit and get us out of here.’
‘I can’t,’ Uncle Percy said simply. ‘It’s in Bertha. Besides, the trip isn’t registered so they wouldn’t know when to come looking for us even if I did use it.’ He smiled weakly. Sensing her despair, he injected some enthusiasm into his voice. ‘But, anyway, we’re not ready to go back yet, are we? We’ve still got a legendary relic to find.’
‘We don’t particularly want to be eaten by a dirty great monster, though,’ Becky added sullenly.
‘It won’t come to that, I promise. Besides, we need to get into that Maze, no matter what’s in there. Unless I’m very much mistaken, the Maze is Arthur Evans’ Labyrinth.’ Uncle Percy whispered, ‘How else will we find out more about the Theseus Disk? Furthermore, the Fleece might even be in there.’
Becky huffed. ‘Along with a dirty great monster.’
‘Well, we don’t know that for sure, do we?’
‘Everyone around here seems pretty convinced.’
‘Ah, don’t worry,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘To be honest, I don’t think that the Minotaur exists for one second, history is full of mythical beasts that never existed.’
‘Like Harpies,’ Becky said.
Uncle Percy’s face dropped. ‘Fair point. Anyway, if the Minotaur does exist I have come very well equipped.’ He patted his chest mysteriously. ‘You’ll just have to trust me when I say - ’
The dungeon door opened. ‘Well, well, Percy Halifax. It looks as though you’ve landed yourself in a right old pickle, doesn’t it?’
Even in the half-light, Becky could see Uncle Percy’s face drained of colour, as though he’d seen a ghost.
And, in a sense, he had.
*
The man stepped from the shadows.
‘Bernard?’ Uncle Percy breathed. ‘Bernard Preston?’
‘The very same,’ the man said. ‘Hello, my friend.’
Becky recognised the name. Bernard Preston, the traveller who met with John Aubrey and discovered the legend of Stonehenge. The traveller searching for the Golden Fleece. The traveller who died at Bowen Hall on Christmas Eve.
As the torch opposite flickered on Preston’s face, Becky gasped. This could not be possible. Preston studied at Oxford with Uncle Percy, they would be the same age, but this was a young man.
‘It’s happened, hasn’t it? Lockets Syndrome, I mean,’ Preston said, astonished. ‘I never thought I’d see it.’
Uncle Percy stood, his astonished gaze never left the young man. ‘And I’ve never seen it before either?’
Becky stared at Joe. Lockets Syndrome?
‘You’re from my future aren’t you?’ Preston whispered. ‘Well, obviously you are. I only saw you last week and you were twenty six, same age as me.’
‘I grew old.’
‘So, when are you from?’ Preston said.
‘Let’s just say I am from your future, shall we, Bernard? The details are unimportant.’
The Argonauts looked at each other, bewildered. Becky doubted she could explain even if she tried.
‘Wow!’ Bernard clapped his hands with delight. ‘It’s funny, you know. I was only saying to Emerson yesterday - what would we do if genuine Lockets Syndrome happened to us? And you know what a miserable beggar he can be, he just gave me a dismissive look as if to say it was impossible. But it’s really happened ...’
‘Yes, it has,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘What are you doing here, Bernard?’
‘Oh, you know me. I’ve always been fascinated by Ancient Greece. I come to Knossos quite often, particularly on Saturdays, like today. It’s market day, in case you hadn’t guessed.’
‘I thought so.’
Preston smiled. ‘So, there I was, standing at my favourite stall, and who comes though the gate but that buffoon, Helladius, and my good friend, albeit slightly older, Percy Halifax. I couldn’t believe my eyes.’
‘I bet you couldn’t,’ Uncle Percy said.
‘Anyway, I just bribed Galdeus with a packet of cheese and onion crisps and he let me right in.’ Preston clapped his hands. ‘It’s remarkable. Only last week, I made a decision to stay away from this timeline for a while, but, for some reason, thought I’d visit Knossos one last time, and look what’s happened - a genuine case of Locket’s Syndrome. Anyway, that’s enough about me. What’re you doing here?’
Uncle Percy paused. ‘We’re just having a family day trip. This is Becky and Joe, my niece and nephew. I just thought I’d show them what Crete was really like. You know, help them with their schoolwork and all that.’
‘Real history, eh kids?’ Preston waved at the children. ‘I wish I’d had a time traveller for an Uncle when I was a nipper. It beats reading stuffy old books, eh?’
Becky and Joe smiled politely, although neither of them could think of anything to say.
‘So how come you’ve landed yourself in jail?’
‘Just a touch of rotten luck,’ Uncle Percy said.
‘Do you want me to bust you out?’ Preston asked. ‘A jailbreak would be so exciting. I can pop back to my time and get a couple of puff grenades from Charlie Millport. I wouldn’t even need to inform headquarters, he owes me a favour. I’ll have you out of here in no time at all.’
Becky’s heart leapt. A jailbreak. However, a firm shake of Uncle Percy’s head dashed the idea.
‘No, thank you,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘We’re going to see the King.’
‘Are you sure?’ Bernard said. ‘I could always round up a couple of OTTERS to help. I know Steffers would definitely do it, and Malcolm, he’s always up for a rumble. Not too sure about Emerson, he doesn’t like you much and Ricardo is probably swanking around as a sixteenth century conquistador somewhere, but I could try -’
‘No,’ Uncle Percy asserted. ‘Actually, would you do me a favour? In fact, it’s more than a favour, it’s a deeply felt appeal.’
‘Anything.’
Uncle Percy took a deep breath. ‘You must not tell a soul about our meeting. Not anyone. Do you understand?’ There was sadness in his voice. ‘I know the fact that you’ve encountered Lockets Syndrome must be desperately exciting, but, please, I beg of you, you cannot tell anyone.’
Preston was clearly disappointed. ‘But - but I’m sure that the younger you would love to hear that you’re still travelling at your age. Surely -’
Uncle Percy’s expression turned grave. ‘Especially not the younger me. That would be very bad. Please, Bernard, you must respect my wishes on this. Besides, I know you do as I ask, and I thank you for it.’
‘How do you know?’ Preston asked.
‘Because if you had told me, I would have known that we were to meet here, in this very dungeon, for twenty four years, and, as I’m as surprised by this as you are, then you can’t have mentioned it.’
Bernard Preston laughed. ‘That is a very good point, old chap. Well, if you’re sure, then we’ll make this our little secret.’
‘Thank you, Bernard,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘It’s more important to me than I could ever begin to explain.’
A mischievous twinkle appeared in Bernard Preston’s eyes. ‘Well, if I’m to do that for you, then perhaps you should do something for me.’
Uncle Percy sighed.
‘How do I turn out?’ Preston asked. ‘Do I get married? Do we stay friends? What happens to me?’
Uncle Percy’s mouth creased into a wide smile, careful not to display any sadness. ‘You turn out just fine, Bernard. In fact, you prove yoursel
f to be one of the noblest men to have ever walked the earth. We are, and always remain, the best of friends. And that is all I’m prepared to say on the matter. It’s never good to know too much about one’s future.’
Bernard Preston exhaled. ‘You’re right. I don’t want to know any more. That’s the beauty of the future. Let it unfold as it may. But, I do thank you for those words.’
Becky looked at Uncle Percy and saw his bottom lip tremble. ‘That’s perfectly all right, my dear friend,’ he said.
‘Now are you sure you don’t want me to get you out of here?’
‘No. We’ll be fine. Now you - you go get back to your time safely.’ He smiled. ‘I know for certain that you will.’
Bernard Preston extended his open hand through the iron bars and the two men shook. ‘Goodbye, my friend.’
‘Goodbye, Bernard.’
Then Preston turned to Becky and Joe and grinned. ‘See you in twenty odd years, kids. I’ll know you before you ever know me. Good luck, everyone.’ After giving a final bow, Bernard Preston left the dungeon. When Uncle Percy arched round he was shaking. He staggered to the far corner of the cell and slumped to the floor, his head cradled in his hands.
Becky wanted to reach out to him, to help. But what could she do? She couldn’t begin to understand the grief he must be feeling. After all, it had only been seven months since Uncle Percy had watched that young man die in his arms.
Chapter 13
All the King’s Horses
The stale air hung heavy as the minutes crawled by. Everyone tried not to stare at Uncle Percy, who remained as still as a statue.
Becky looked to guidance from Will, but even he appeared uncertain as to what should be done. Deciding she had to at least try and help, she took the initiative and walked over to him, sitting down and placing her hand gently on his arm. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked softly.
‘I’m fine,’ Uncle Percy said, raising his head. ‘Good fellow, Bernard. Handsome too, don’t you think?’
Becky shrugged. ‘Not really my type.’
Uncle Percy smiled weakly. ‘Perhaps not. Nevertheless, he was a virtuous, warm-hearted chap.’
Becky felt close to tears. It was the first time she’d seen her uncle so vulnerable. She decided to change the subject. ‘What’s Lockets Syndrome?’
Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Uncle Percy whispered, ‘Well, it’s a very, very rare occurrence. You see, the world is an enormous place. And time - time as you are doubtless aware, is infinite. Therefore, the chances of two travellers casually bumping into each other, unplanned, at a specific place at a specific time are - well, the odds are astronomical. Of course, there are certain events throughout history where it is common for travellers to gather at the same time and place, but that’s not genuine Lockets syndrome. Not like what we’ve witnessed today.’
Becky looked puzzled. ‘Uncle Percy, can I ask you something? You cared about Bernard Preston, didn’t you?’
‘Very much.’
‘Well, couldn’t you -’ Becky paused for a moment, unsure whether to continue, ‘- couldn’t you travel back and stop his murder?’
Uncle Percy sighed. The torches glow accentuated the lines on his face. ‘I tried,’ he said. ‘I travelled back to Oxford on the night he was killed. I even found him. I’m sure you can probably guess the rest.’
‘The Omega Effect?’
‘Correct,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘It was exactly like when I tried to help your father. It nearly always happens if you try and prevent a human death, for some reason.’
Then something occurred to Becky. ‘Did you see him get shot?’
Uncle Percy bowed his head. ‘I did.’
‘So you saw who did it?’
‘No,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘I’m afraid not, whomever it was stayed out of sight. If I’m honest, I would say they knew I was there. Anyway, I returned again and again, but each time the Omega Effect stopped me getting close enough to see anything. After the fifth attempt failed, I had to accept the painful truth…’
‘And what was that?’ Becky asked.
‘That, for whatever reason, fate had determined that Bernard should die that night, and that the killer would escape.’
Becky shuddered. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Many lives may have been saved because of his sacrifice. He would have wanted that.’
A crash rang through the dungeon. Helladius threw open the door, an ugly expression fixed on his face. ‘RIGHT, FILTH... THE KING WISHES TO SEE YOU!’
‘Oh, goody,’ Uncle Percy muttered.
Helladius stepped aside and Galdeus shuffled in. Unlocking the wooden padlock, he slid the heavy grill open. They all trudged out of the cell, the Argonauts leading the way.
‘F-farewell, m-my tasty friends,’ Galdeus growled.
Uncle Percy winked back. ‘And farewell to you, Galdeus. You have been a most charming host.’
‘I h-hope your d-death is a b-brutal one,’ Galdeus wheezed, shoving Uncle Percy through the doorway.
As he straightened the creases from his cloak, Uncle Percy said, ‘seems like everyone wants me dead lately...’
*
The prisoners surfaced into daylight. Becky felt nervous as the blast of light stung her eyes. What were they walking into?
They were marched through the courtyard to an open-planned corridor with multi-coloured murals on the walls.
‘This is the Corridor of Processions,’ Uncle Percy said, his eyes glazing over. ‘Look at the detail in those frescoes - wonderful.’
Finding it impossible to share his enthusiasm, Becky shrugged. The last thing she cared about were stupid paintings.
Making a sharp right at the far end of the corridor, they passed a shaded propylaeum, and found themselves in a grand hall at the end of which stood a large staircase, patrolled by the Palace Guard. As they followed Helladius up the staircase, Becky couldn’t help but wonder why Uncle Percy did not take Bernard Preston’s offer of a jailbreak? She understood her Uncle wanted to enter the Labyrinth, but surely there must be a safer way - a way that didn’t involve pleading before a possibly merciless King.
Helladius led them through a series of magnificent rooms until his body wobbled to a standstill. ‘WAIT HERE!’ He disappeared through a doorway, only to reappear a few seconds later. ‘The King will see you now. MOVE.’
‘Don’t be afraid,’ Uncle Percy said to Becky and Joe. He stepped into the Throne Room.
Becky looked nervously at Joe and followed, her head bowed. When she looked up, she gasped. Sitting on an enormous gold throne was a well-groomed man with a face that resembled a hairy sprout. He wore a ruby necklace and a snow-white tunic. A crown of lilies sat on his head. Helladius took a pace forward. ‘King Minos, my lord.’ He bowed. ‘I give you the prisoners...’
For a few moments, King Minos sat there in silence He surveyed the group with a stern expression on his face. Then suddenly he grinned. ‘Welcome, my prisoners, to The Great Palace of Knossos.’ Helladius frowned.
Uncle Percy stepped forward. ‘Thank you very much King Minos. I’m - ’
‘SILENCE, PRISONER!’ Helladius bellowed, striding up to Uncle Percy and grabbing him by the hood. ‘You will only address the King, if, and when, you are addressed.’
Uncle Percy nodded. ‘Ah, my apologies.’
‘Now, now, Helladius,’ King Minos said. ‘Today we forgo all formalities. Today is a happy day. A momentous day!’ The King’s eyes gleamed. ‘Please, stranger, speak, you have nothing to fear.’ Helladius scowled again.
Uncle Percy stepped forward again. ‘We thank you, King Minos. My name is Percy Halifax, and these are my friends. We are strangers to your kingdom, and have come here to do you a service.’
The bemused King studied Uncle Percy. ‘A service you say, prisoner? What possible service could you perform that others do not already do?’
‘We are here to slay the Minotaur,’ Uncle Percy replied.
There was
silence. Then, with a thud, Hercules fainted.
The King hesitated. He smiled, then chuckled, then laughed. His crown fell off as it turned into an uncontrollable fit. After a few seconds, in which time Will had helped Hercules to his feet, King Minos spoke, ‘You, grey hair …’ His face swelled to the size and shade of a basketball. ‘You believe you can kill the Minotaur?’
‘Yes, sir, I do.’
Becky stared at Uncle Percy with disbelief. This was his plan?
‘Oh, what a joyous day,’ King Minos gushed. ‘First, Pasiphae has agreed to be my wife, then the King of Athens has presented me with a wonderful new pet, and now this … Tell me, stranger, what makes you think you can succeed where so many others have failed?’
‘We have means,’ Uncle Percy replied mysteriously. ‘All I ask is that should we succeed, you give us our freedom. That these men -’ He gestured towards the Argonauts, ‘- will be given safe passage throughout your lands, and that, if necessary, you give us a ship, the fastest in your fleet.’
King Minos waved flippantly. ‘Of course.’ He leant forward. ‘You are aware that I have sent many of my finest warriors into the Maze to complete that task, that scores of men and women have been sent as sacrifice to stop the beast leaving its lair - that none have returned!’
‘I am now,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Do we have a deal?’
‘Certainly, stranger.’ King Minos slapped his thigh. ‘As you have continued my excellent mood, you may see my new pet, a creature of such beauty as to rival Aphrodite herself. CASTOR, BRING ME THE BEAST!’
Everyone looked to the rear doorway as a young boy entered carrying a coil of rope. He tugged the rope firmly and a white horse appeared at the end of it. The room filled with murmurs of astonishment. Tucked snugly beneath the horse’s shoulder blades were a small but well-defined set of wings.
Becky felt her heart skip a beat.
King Minos leapt from his throne. ‘Prisoners, this is Pegasus - The Horse of the Gods. Of course, it can’t fly yet, but when she’s older she will take to the skies like an eagle. That’s if I allow it, of course.’ King Minos snatched the rope and yanked the trembling horse closer to him. ‘I may just have her wings clipped.’
