The Maze

by Trudie Collins

  “Back to the royal library then. Allias was expecting us to return,” Seth said happily. “I like not to disappoint people.”

  “Right. Everyone get a quick drink, refill your water bottles and let us get out of here.”

  “Err, are you forgetting something?” a voice called out from above them. They looked up to see Grimmel looking down at them. “How are we supposed to get down?”

  “Easy,” Ria said. “Someone get ready to catch me.” Without waiting to see if anyone was in position, she jumped, landing neatly in Tor’s arms.

  “Do not ever do that again,” he said through clenched teeth. “What if I had missed you?” Ria shrugged then stood up, laughing.

  “Your turn,” she called up to Grimmel.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” he shouted back. “I think I will stay here for a while.”

  “Not an option. Jump. I will catch you,” Ban assured him. Reluctantly Grimmel made his way to the edge, then made the mistake of looking down and hurriedly backed away again.

  “It is not really that far,” Ria called out.

  “Maybe not for you, but it is twice as far for someone my size,” came the reply.

  “Are you happy being outdone by a girl?” Seth joined in, grinning broadly. All he got for a reply was loud muttering. The words were not decipherable, but their meaning was clear and Grimmel soon came into view again. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and jumped. Ban caught him easily and gently placed him on the ground. During his descent, there had been a momentary silence, but the muttering started again the minute he felt solid ground beneath his feet.

  Seth placed a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “You were very brave,” he said gravely. “I will make sure to tell River.” The grumbled words became legible as Grimmel increased his volume and told Seth exactly what he planned to do to him if he ever managed to get the younger man alone.

  “Is that anatomically possible?” Ria asked Patrick.

  “I do not think so, but I would like to watch him try.”

  They were halfway back down the passage when Grimmel suddenly swore loudly. “I have just had a thought,” he exclaimed. “I could have taken every one of the remaining scrolls. That would have really screwed over the other teams.”

  “But that would be cheating and we do not want to win that way,” Tor said solemnly.

  “You really take the fun out of this sometimes,” Grimmel said in disgust.

  They were laughing and joking as they emerged from the hillside. Liselle was waiting for them and Torrick went straight to her, kissing her fondly. “What was that horrific noise not long after we left you?” he asked.

  “Sam.”

  The laughter instantly died. “How is she?” Tor enquired.

  “You had better ask Ellen.” This answer worried Tor greatly and he went in search of the hearth witch. He found her by the wagon, her eyes closed. He gently shook her awake and asked after her patient.

  “We need to stay here till the morning,” she informed him. “If she makes it through the night, I think she will live.”

  “What!” he exclaimed in shock. “It should have been a simple case of removing the arrow. What went wrong?” Ellen explained all that had occurred, while Tor listened grimly. “You are a fully trained healer,” he said accusingly. “There must be something you can do.”

  “She reacted so badly to the sedative I dare not give her anything else,” she countered. “I used magic to seal the wound, but I cannot restore the blood she lost. On top of that, she is burning up with fever.”

  “What about Bellak? Is there nothing he can do?”

  “He did offer, but he has no knowledge of healing.”

  “Damn it,” Tor swore. “This was not supposed to happen.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “How is Brin taking it?”

  “Not well. He has not left her side and is refusing to speak to anyone.”

  “I will go and have a word with him. This is not his fault.”

  Sam had been positioned close to the fire and Brin sat beside her, occasionally wiping her forehead with a damp cloth. He looked ill. He raised his head when he heard Tor approaching and forestalled the words of sympathy by speaking first.

  “Can you do me a favour?” he asked, surprisingly politely, given the situation. Tor nodded, so he continued, though his head lowered again to look at Sam’s pale face. “When Hawk arises, will you please explain things to him?”

  “Why?” Tor asked cautiously.

  “He told me he would kill me if ever I hurt Sam.” He raised his head again, meeting Tor’s gaze. “I think this may qualify.”

  Tor sighed and sat down beside the elf. “There are extenuating circumstances. I am sure he will understand.” Brin did not reply. “This is not your fault, you know,” Tor continued.

  “Whose fault is it then?” Brin asked, quietly. “I fired the arrow.”

  “If you look at it like that, maybe you should start blaming Ellen. She gave Sam the potion that caused the convulsion that made the arrow embed itself deeper. Or me. If it was not for me, Sam would not even be here.” He was trying to make the elf angry in the hope that it would snap him out of the depression that seemed to be settling over him, but it did not work. Brin’s answer remained quiet and emotionless.

  “Ellen did everything she could. Without her, Sam would already be dead.”

  Seeing that there was nothing he could do to help his friend, he left him in peace and went to seek Bellak, who had yet to hear the next clue. The wizard was no help. Since his deception of Sam had been revealed, he had been very subdued, keeping to himself as much as possible. He appeared to take no interest in the clue, worrying Tor deeply.

  “Walk with me for a while,” Tor requested. Night was beginning to descend and Hawk would be awake soon. Tor had promised Brin that he would be there when the vampire awoke, so he did not wander far from the camp. Much to his relief, Bellak opened up to him without much persuasion. The old man genuinely believed that he had done no wrong. In his eyes, he had done what was necessary for the good of the quest and had not harmed Sam at all. Letting her believe she was still in her own world was good for her and he could not understand the reaction of his companions. He did, however, feel guilty about Sam’s reaction and was deeply concerned for her. It never occurred to him that making her scream in agony would put her life in danger. He blamed himself totally and would never forgive himself if she did not pull through. Tor attempted to reassure him that it was not his fault, but the words stuck in his throat. It was too soon for him to forgive the old man for the harm he had caused, but it would happen eventually.

  Tor arrived at the wagon just as the lid of the coffin lifted. He explained the situation to Hawk in great detail. Saying nothing, Hawk walked directly up to Brin, his face unreadable.

  “Have you eaten anything?” he asked.

  Brin shook his head. “I am not hungry.”

  “Go find something to eat and get some rest. You will be of no use to her if you make yourself ill. I will look after her while you are away.” Brin looked at Hawk, but found himself unable to speak. Seth, overhearing the conversation, held out a bowl of stew. When Brin did not move, Hawk gave him a not so gentle shove. “Now,” he ordered. Lacking both the energy and the inclination to argue, he obeyed, taking the offered food and smiling his gratitude. He ate quickly and soon returned to Sam’s side, ignoring Hawk’s insistence that he sleep first.

  The vampire approached Ellen. “I think you should speak to our little elven friend,” he suggested, keeping his voice low.

  “No need,” she replied, trying not to smile. “Seth slipped a sedative in his food. He will be asleep within the hour.”

  As tiredness overtook him, Brin found himself unable to keep his eyes open, so he lay down close to Sam, placed his arm around her and let sleep envelop him. Ellen waited until she was certain she would not wake him, then placed a blanket over the both of them, before she too turned in for the night.

  Th
e sun was beginning to rise when Brin awoke. “Shit,” he swore, when he realised how long he had been asleep.

  “Stop worrying,” a soft voice said. Ellen was sitting beside Sam’s inert body, wiping her head with a damp cloth. “Hawk was with her most of the night. I took over about an hour ago.”

  “How is she?” he asked, stretching.

  “No change. If you want to take over from me, I will start cooking breakfast.” He did not need asking twice. He ran off, explaining that he would be right back. As soon as he had rounded the hill enough to be completely out of sight, he relieved himself and headed straight back, resuming his position by Sam’s side, damp cloth in hand.

  Everyone awoke and sat round the fire, eating their breakfast. For the first time since Sam had been injured, everyone except Hawk was together, so the next clue could be discussed. When Tor recited it from memory, only Modo displayed any reaction. “Frack,” he said loudly. “I take it none of you have ever heard of Ukland maze.” Nobody had, so he told them all he knew, which was not much. It was an enormous maze, though he had no idea where. It was rumoured to be made from extremely large hedges with a spell on them, making them impenetrable. Swords broke when used to carve a new exit. Nobody seemed to know who created it or why. Another spell prevented anything flying out and restricted the view from anything flying above it.

  “So what is inside?” Dal asked.

  “As far as I am aware, nobody knows,” Modo said, somewhat mysteriously.

  “Surely people have managed to enter it and someone must have described it upon their return.”

  “From what I have heard, though these may only be rumours,” Modo said, his voice suddenly becoming very serious, “many have entered.” He looked at each of them before continuing, making sure he had their attention. His face was as expressionless as stone. “None have ever returned.”

  Chapter 3

  Everyone stared at him in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me,” Ria exclaimed.

  Modo shook his head. “I wish I was,” he said sadly. “Of course, the rumours may not be true.” Nobody was convinced.

  “So let me get this straight. First we have to find out where this maze is, then we have to get there. Next we have to enter it, solve all of the puzzles without getting killed, then get out, despite the fact that nobody has ever managed to accomplish this?” Modo nodded.

  “Not quite,” Brin said, making Ria jump. She had almost forgotten the elf was within earshot. “First we find a way to get Sam back to Allias’s palace before she dies.”

  Tor winced. He had not intentionally forgotten Sam’s plight, but it had slipped his mind. Was he becoming as obsessed with the quest as Bellak?

  The journey back was tedious. There were no happy conversations round the camp fire at night; all of the usual friendly teasing and banter was missing. Tempers began to fray and petty squabbles became common. Sam did not regain consciousness. Fever continued to ravish her body, though she did not deteriorate noticeably. Each morning and evening, Ellen and Brin attempted to pour water down her throat, but each attempt failed. They began to fear that even if she survived the fever, dehydration would kill her. The only time Brin left her side was to answer the call of nature. A bed was made for her in the back of the wagon, next to Hawk’s coffin, leaving just enough room for the elf to cuddle up beside her when he slept.

  When they were only a day’s ride from reaching the outskirts of Vada, Tor sent Dal and Patrick, with a couple of spare horses, to make for the city with all haste. They were instructed to not only give Mrs Hubert, Allias’s housekeeper, advance warning that they were approaching, but to also have the best healers on hand to tend to Sam as soon as they arrived. Dal wondered if they should also put an undertaker on standby, but could not bring himself to ask the question.

  The remaining members of the party were only a few hours away from Vada when Sam’s fever finally broke, the announcement of which brought much relief. She was still not out of danger, and they had yet to ascertain if there was any brain damage, but it was a step in the right direction. A room on the ground floor had been prepared for Sam’s arrival and various herbs and scented leaves were burning slowly, infusing the entire room with their healing aromas. All curtains and blinds had been opened, making the room light and welcoming, though numerous lamps had been placed inside the room as the sun would not be providing enough light for long. Every witch who had the gift of healing had been summoned to the palace and were ready for Sam’s arrival. As soon as he had placed her inert body on the bed, Brin was unceremoniously thrown out of the room and the door locked to keep him out. Tor, finding him pacing up and down in the corridor, hauled him away to the nearest inn and placed a mug of beer in front of him. Ban, Patrick, Seth and Dal accompanied them and were given orders that under no circumstance were they to permit the elf to return to the palace alone.

  The beer flowed and the men drank quietly. Dal sulked as Tor permitted him nothing stronger than grape juice, but refused to leave. Brin’s mug remained untouched. Food was ordered and promptly delivered, but Brin did not eat. He remained staring at the table, as though in a trance, looking up only when the door opened in case it was a messenger from the palace. After an hour, having heard nothing, Tor announced he was returning to the palace to find out what was happening and ordered Brin to remain where he was. As soon as he was out of sight, Seth passed his beer mug to Dal and winked. Dal looked nervously at Patrick and Ban, who both nodded their agreement not to mention it to Tor, so he gratefully took the mug and drank deeply. Laughter broke out as he began to choke.

  “This stuff is vile,” he said in a strained voice. “Why do you keep drinking it?”

  “Trust me lad, it grows on you,” Seth assured him and signalled for the bartender to send over another round.

  Ellen was just exiting the sick room when Tor approached and he escorted her to the kitchens while she gave him an update. Sam had been completely stripped and bathed then rubbed down with various oils. Though pale, her flesh showed no outward sign of being affected by the fever or dehydration, but they were going to have to wake her up to get some fluids inside her.

  “Basically, we have two choices,” she informed him. “We can either wait until she wakes up on her own, but we think she may die before that happens, or we force her awake.” She sighed and took a deep breath before continuing. “Her brain may be keeping her unconscious while it tries to repair any damage caused by the fever. If we force her awake, that damage could become permanent.”

  “Do it,” Tor instructed, hoping he was making the right decision. “I will be back in an hour for an update.” Ellen could not help but smile as she watched his retreating back. Taking responsibility for the decision was sweet, but he did not realise that, not only was it not his decision to make, but it had already been made. The healers were already doing everything they could to bring Sam out of her coma. The only reason that Ellen herself was out of the room was to organise some refreshment for the others.

  Two heads looked towards the door of the inn as they heard it opening. Instantly recognising his older cousin, Dal quickly placed his mug in front of Seth while Brin watched Tor’s approach, an expectant look on his face. “No news yet,” he said, sitting down on the bench next to the elf. He paused, wondering how much he should say, eventually deciding that complete honesty was the best approach. “They gave me the choice of waking her up or letting her come out of it by herself. The first risks brain damage, the second risks death. I chose the first.”

  Patrick snorted. “Something you wish to say?” Tor asked.

  “No, nothing,” he replied casually. “If you wish to take responsibility, then you go right ahead.” Tor stared at him, eyebrows raised, but remained silent, waiting for him to continue. “How long have you known Ellen?” Patrick asked, the question taking Tor by surprise.

  “A number of years,” he said. “Why?”

  “In all that time, has she ever consulted you about healing anyone?”

&
nbsp; Tor opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. Patrick was right. Sam’s fate would not be decided by any decision he made. He quickly amended that thought. He could have prevented Brin firing the arrow at her, could have found another way to open the entrance to the tunnel, but chose not to. Her situation was entirely his fault.

  “When did I stop being the leader in this quest?” he asked ruefully.

  Patrick smiled and slapped him on the back. “I hate to say this friend, but what made you think you ever were?”

  “What do they think her chances are?” Brin’s voice dragged Tor away from his thoughts and back to the current topic of conversation.

  “Ellen did not say.” He wanted to assure him that Sam would pull through, but he couldn’t. He wanted to say that she was in good hands, but it sounded lame even when he said it in his own head. He stayed in the inn long enough to drink another mug of ale, then headed back towards the palace. He did not notice Seth once again passing ale to Dal.

  Nothing was working. They had taken turns to try every method they knew of reviving someone, but Sam continued to remain unresponsive. There was only one thing left to try, but none of them wanted to be the one to suggest it. “Has anyone ever done a mind meld?” Ellen asked eventually, quietly hoping the answer would be no. A few of the older witches present admitted to having tried it before, but none volunteered to try again. The younger witches looked around expectantly, eager to see in practice one of the hardest and most dangerous spells that a healer would ever be taught. Only one had never heard of a mind meld and tentatively asked what it was. Ellen explained that it was a very powerful, but dangerous, form of healing. The healer would be put into a trance which would enable her to merge her mind with that of the patient, allowing the healer to speak directly into the patient’s mind. The patient would be unable to disobey. If the healer told a cripple to stand up and walk, they would do it, despite not being able to use their legs. It enabled the mind to override physical limitations. It was open to abuse though. If told to stop breathing, for example, the patient would instantly obey, even if it resulted in their death.