Labyrinth Society

by Angie Kelly

  "Do you know Amelia Worth?" I showed Devon the mail.

  "Get down," said Devon.

  Two people came around the corner from behind the house, a big burly bald guy in a gold tracksuit with a gun in a shoulder holster and a slim young woman in torn and dirty clothes with long dark hair falling in her face. Devon let out a loud gasp.

  "What is it?" I whispered.

  "Morgan!"

  "Devon! No!" I reached out to grab her before she ran through the gate but missed.

  The bald man saw Devon charging down the gravel driveway towards him and pulled his gun. He aimed for Devon and my heart leapt into my mouth. As he squeezed the trigger, the dark-haired girl Devon had called Morgan suddenly rushed forward.

  "Noooo!" she screamed and grabbed the gunman's arm and bit it just as the gun went off, causing it to hit the mailbox next to me instead. I almost wet myself.

  The gunman cursed and swung his fist clipping Morgan on the chin and knocking her out cold, which only ticked Devon off even more. She launched herself at the big man and clawed and scratched at his face like a hellcat. He easily knocked her off him, put his hands around her neck and lifted her in the air. He shook her by the throat like a rag doll while her legs flailed and kicked. He was going to squeeze the life right out of her. Her face turned bright red. Her eyes were wide and terrified.

  I jumped on the Vespa and turned on the ignition. It would have been so easy to head back into town and the nearest American Embassy. I could tell them I had amnesia and didn't know how I'd gotten to France. They'd send me back to the states and the Greene County Children's Home where the scariest things I'd have to deal with would be Meatloaf Mondays and Brandy Gordon's multiple facial piercings.

  Instead, I flew down the driveway at top speed, gravel spinning out in all directions under the Vespa's wheels. The man choking the life out of Devon was so wrapped up in his grim task he didn't even notice me until I was right up on him. He finally let go of Devon and feebly put his arms up to shield himself as I popped a wheelie and threw myself off the back of the Vespa before it slammed into him. I sat up and saw him lying motionless under the Vespa while its wheels spun like crazy. I hurt all over but managed to get to Devon who was coughing and gasping for breath.

  "Are you okay?" I asked her. She shoved me aside and crawled over to Morgan. "You're welcome," I mumbled.

  "Morgan! Wake up!" She shook the older girl by the shoulders until she started to come around. Devon helped her to sit up.

  "Devon?"

  "It's me, Morgan. I'm right here."

  "Oh, Devon!" She grabbed Devon and hugged her tight. "I knew you'd come for me! How did you know how to find me?"

  I got a good look at her and there was something so familiar about Morgan. It was her hair. It wasn't the vibrant, glowing red of the girl I followed at the Louvre, but it was red.

  "We can talk about it later," said Devon.

  "Yeah, we need to find Alex and the others," I said, wincing as I got to my feet. I had scrapes on my forearms and knees. "He's not going to be unconscious forever, and we need to get out of here."

  "Alex and the others? You mean they're here, too?" asked Morgan.

  "We tracked their cells to this address. You didn't see them in there?"

  "No. I didn't see anyone."

  "Maybe they're locked up in the shed," I said, pointing to a small stone shed behind the house. I could see it from the driveway.

  "No," said Morgan, jumping up. "They kept me in the shed. If they're here, they'd be in the house someplace."

  "Was it just this one guy who kidnapped you? Are there others?" asked Devon.

  "He has a twin brother," said Morgan, gesturing towards the guy under the Vespa. "But they're not the ones running the show. Their boss is a creepy old lady with a hook hand."

  "Dr. McFarland?" gasped Devon in amazement.

  "She never told me her name."

  "McFarland? Wasn't she a colleague of Dr. Tarpley's?" I remembered seeing the name in the articles I'd read about Dr. Tarpley's disappearance.

  "She's a scumbag treasure hunter who used to work with Dr. Tarpley back in the '60s. But kidnapping is stooping low even for her."

  "Look, I don't know what this McFarland lady's deal is, but we need to get out of here before they come back," said Morgan. Devon suddenly stiffened.

  "What's wrong?" I asked her.

  "McFarland must be at the palace waiting for me at the Apollo fountain to turn over the ransom. And if you're still here, Morgan, then they never planned on letting you go alive."

  We were silent for a minute before Morgan finally said in a trembling voice, "We need to tie him up."

  ****

  It turned out Security Dude had a pair of handcuffs in the scooter's glove box, which had fallen open upon impact. Once we handcuffed the bald guy's hands behind his back, we searched the house for Alex, Tomi, and Lily. Devon and Morgan took the second floor and attic, while I searched the first floor. The farmhouse was huge, with tiled floors and exposed wooden beams in the ceilings. Heavy, burgundy velvet curtains hung in the windows collecting dust. All the furniture was covered in white sheets. Whoever this Amelia Worth was, she must not spend much time here. Maybe this was a vacation home. I was beginning to think maybe the GPS had been wrong and Alex, Lily, and Tomi weren't in the house, when I spied something on the floor next to the old-fashioned wood-burning stove in the corner of the living room. It was a brown, tweed cap. It was exactly like the one I'd seen Tomi stuffing in her backpack when I'd been hiding in the closet. I put it in my backpack so I could return it to her.

  After searching all the rooms on the first floor, I ended up in the kitchen. This must have been where the kidnappers spent all their time. A small black-and-white TV sat on one of the counters and was turned to a soccer game. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes. The trashcan was overflowing with beer cans and take-out containers. Sitting on a round table in the middle of the room were three black backpacks I recognized as belonging to Alex, Tomi, and Lily. The sight of them made me panic.

  "Tomi! Alex! Lily! Where are you?" I called out. I didn't hear anything, but a flash of color caught the corner of my eye.

  There was a hole in the wall next to the stove. I crept closer and put my eye to the hole and saw the flash of color — neon magenta — again. I saw it for only a second and then it was gone again. Dank air smelling like dirt wafted out of the hole. This must have been a door to the cellar, a hidden door flush with the wall. The hole was only big enough for me to get one finger through. I put my index finger in and pulled. The door came open with a loud scraping noise, revealing a set of stone steps. In the gloom at the bottom I could see ten little neon magenta lights wiggling. I knew exactly what they were and called for Devon.

  ****

  "I knew my magic magenta nail polish would come in handy," exclaimed Tomi as she put her shoes back on. She was looking way too happy for someone who'd just spend hours tied up in a dank, dark cellar.

  "What took you guys so long? I sent my SOS text hours ago," groused Lily, as we quickly pulled duct tape from the three who'd been tied up in a circle of chairs.

  "It's not like we were sightseeing, you know! We had problems of our own," snapped Devon, like she wanted to put the tape back on Lily's mouth.

  We all started talking at once about what had happened to us since we'd separated, everyone except Alex, who was focused solely on Morgan.

  "So it was you they were keeping in the shed. I can't believe McFarland played us all like chumps."

  "One minute I was on my way home from the restaurant I work at, the next thing I knew someone sprayed something in my face in the parking lot and I woke up in the shed. It was days before I even realized I was in France," replied Morgan.

  "Guys, we can sort all this out later," I said. "We need to get back home. I bet Mrs. T. is freaking out."

  "Alex, how'd you get here?" asked Lily. "Do you have a car parked somewhere down the road?" Alex blushed.

  "
I hitchhiked," he said as we followed him up the steps to the kitchen and out into the backyard. "A lovely group of Swedish flight attendants on holiday gave me a lift."

  "Typical," replied Lily, and rolled her eyes.

  "Um, aren't we forgetting something?" asked Tomi.

  "What?" we said in unison.

  "Doesn't anyone notice the huge labyrinth in the field over there?" asked Tomi with an exasperated sigh.

  "Brilliant! We can be home in five minutes. Let's go!" exclaimed Alex.

  "But what about me?" wailed Morgan, who was close to tears. "I had to give up my ring when I left the Tarpley Estate. How am I going to get back?"

  I started to say I didn't have a ring, either, when Devon spoke up.

  "I brought your ring, Morgan," she said, pulling a small, blue, ring box from her backpack. "I had to break into Mrs. T.'s safe to get it, but I knew you'd need it to get back once I paid the ransom. She'll understand."

  Morgan slipped the labyrinth ring on her finger; for just the briefest moment I saw the hint of a smirk on her lips. And then it was gone. The others didn't notice, because they were too busy staring open-mouthed at Devon.

  "Clearly, there'll be a lot of things we'll be talking about once we get back home, young lady," said Alex, giving Devon a hard look. Devon didn't look fazed in the least.

  "Hey, Tomi," I whispered, as we hurried through the field to the labyrinth. "You know Italian and Spanish, right?"

  "Yeah, why?" she asked. I repeated the words the paintings where shouting at the red-haired girl at the Louvre.

  "They mean the same things in Spanish and Italian," she said.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Thief and liar."

  I was getting a bad feeling but couldn't put a finger on why. Then I remembered I had Tomi's tweed cap and was about to tell her when a black SUV pulled into the farmhouse driveway.

  "They're back! Run!" screamed Morgan.

  We took off running towards the labyrinth. The SUV stopped to pick up the handcuffed henchman, who was now awake, and pulled into the field heading straight for us. We got to the center. There were no copper symbol-covered disks so we quickly formed a circle and the others held out their ringed hands. I held on tight to Tomi's other hand and concentrated like mad on the Tarpley Estate. Electricity crackled all around us. I opened one eye to see the white light pouring from all their rings had opened a swirling blue portal in the center of the labyrinth. The force started sucking us all towards the center. I closed my eyes as one by one we were pulled into the portal, including the SUV.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I was right about the trip through the labyrinth being smoother with multiple rings. This time there were no flashing lights, no images of people I've never seen before, and no rollercoaster sensation. But someone was calling my name. Only this time it wasn't my grandma. It was Mrs. T.

  "Mia, are you okay?" Mrs. T. was cradling my head in her lap. I sat up and she gently pushed me back down. "Easy. Just lie still and take deep breaths, and you'll feel a lot better."

  We were back at the Tarpley Estate in the center of the labyrinth and Tomi, Lily, Devon, Alex and Morgan were all sitting on the ground around the center pond catching their breath. I guess they knew the drill better than I did. But not everyone made it through okay. The license plate from the SUV lay crumpled on the ground a few feet away, the pieces of a broken pipe were scattered in the grass, and a blackened and mangled pair of handcuffs — still locked — dangled from the hedge next to me. The only things left of the SUV and its passengers.

  "Is she okay?" asked Tomi, rushing over and kneeling next to me.

  "Just peachy," I said as Mrs. T. helped me to sit up.

  "We made it!" shouted Lily pumping a fist.

  "I need a pint," moaned Alex.

  "And Morgan needs a hot bath and some clean clothes," said Devon, happily taking Morgan's hand.

  But Morgan wasn't paying any attention to Devon. She and Mrs. T. were having a staring contest. Their eyes were hard and angry. I'd never seen Mrs. T. look so mad. But there was sadness in her eyes, too.

  "This ends now, Morgan, or should I call you Amelia?"

  "Amelia?" said Devon, looking confused.

  "I'm so sorry, Devon, I should have told you when I first found out. But I never knew it would come to this. I never thought she was capable of such treachery and cruelty," said Mrs. T. softly.

  "Cruelty? Treachery?" spat out Morgan pulling out of Devon's grasp. "You're a fine one to talk after what you and your husband did to my grandmother!"

  "What's going on, Mrs. T? What are you talking about?" asked Devon.

  "Her real name is Morgan Amelia McFarland aka Morgan Lake, Amelia Worth and about a dozen other aliases. She's Dr. McFarland's granddaughter and she's not eighteen. She's twenty-five. She's been in and out of prison for fraud and theft since she was nineteen."

  "You're lying!" shouted Devon. "It's not true! Tell her it's not true, Morgan!"

  "It's true, Devon," said Mrs. T. "I hired a private investigator to track her down after I found items missing from the vault."

  "We all took the stuff from the vault," said Devon defiantly "I've got Kreskin's glasses."

  "I took one of the Trickster Crow eggs," Lily said, blushing.

  "And I take Sherlock's Cap on every mission," said Tomi in a small voice.

  "Are you sure, Tomi?" asked Mrs. T. "Let me see it."

  Tomi pulled a tweed cap out of her bag and handed it to her. But how could she have the cap when I had it in my bag? Mrs. T. took a look inside the cap then tore out the lining and turned it to us. Another lining, the real lining, was underneath. Made in China was stitched in red letters. We all gasped.

  "I wondered why it didn't work," said Tomi. "Whew, I thought I broke it, and you know how bad guilt is for my… "

  "Shut up, Tomi!" shouted Devon. "You're crazy if you think I believe this crap! I don't care who she is. Dr. McFarland made her do whatever she did? She was probably scared. Tell them, Morgan," she pleaded.

  "Dr. Regina McFarland didn't force her to do anything, Devon. She had a massive stroke six months ago and up until a week ago has been in a nursing home in Florida. She can't walk or talk," said Mrs. T.

  "But I don't understand," said Lily in confusion. "We saw Dr. McFarland in Versailles. She was just fine."

  "As nasty as ever," interjected Alex.

  "Of course it was her," said Morgan. "There's nothing wrong with my grandmother. She has absolutely no proof of anything she's just told you. Do you, Madeline?" sneered Morgan.

  "I think I might," I said, pulling the tweed cap I found at the farmhouse from my backpack and noticed something I hadn't before. There was a picture inside a pocket in the lining.

  "I knew it," whispered Alex, snatching the cap from my hand.

  In one fluid motion, he flung it like he was playing ring toss and it landed right on top of Morgan's head. The cap instantly stretched out forming a wide straw brim where flowers bloomed and a pink ribbon appeared. Morgan's flowing red locks shrank and the color faded away until it was short white curls. A deep scar creased her left cheek down to the chin, and fine lines and wrinkles crisscrossed her face like a road map. The fingers of her right hand knitted together forming a metal hook. Her dirty jeans receded up her calves, flared out and turned into a pink skirt, while the sleeves of her torn white short-sleeved shirt crept down to her wrists and turned into a pink blazer. Morgan Amelia McFarland, aka Morgan Lake, was gone, and an old woman stood before us.

  "It was Morgan all along?" shouted Tomi. "She must have switched the caps before she left the estate."

  "No wonder she knew just how to push our buttons and make us do what she wanted," said Lily, scowling.

  "But why?" asked Devon in a voice drained of all emotion.

  "You're asking me? Your precious foster mother has told you all about me. But has she ever told any of you a thing about herself, where she comes from, and how she stole one of the greatest archeological finds of th
is century, a ring and an amulet capable of opening portals to the past, from my grandmother, and even turned her fiancé against her?"

  All eyes were on Mrs. T. and it was so quiet you could hear the grass growing.

  "I've called the Versailles police, Morgan. They're at your farmhouse as we speak rescuing your grandmother, whom you kidnapped from her nursing home and have been holding prisoner so you could impersonate her. There's a warrant out for your arrest. I suggest you leave, now!"

  "Your grandmother was in the shed?" I asked. "No wonder you got so nervous when I wanted to look in there for the others? You must have panicked when we showed up at the farmhouse! You weren't expecting us were you?"

  "I'm not answering any more questions," said Morgan, pulling a gun from the pocket of her skirt. I recognized it as the gun the bald guy had fired at Devon.

  She casually shot Alex in the hand. We all screamed and rushed forward to try and get to Alex who lay moaning on the ground clutching his bloody hand to his chest. But Morgan aimed at Alex's head, stopping us in our tracks.

  "It's your turn now, Madeline. And you'd better make it quick before I put bigger bullet hole in pretty boy here."

  "Alright!" Mrs. T. held up her trembling hands. "Alright."

  "I'm all ears," Morgan said. Mrs. T. took a deep breath. Her eyes never left the gun in Morgan's hands.

  "I was born Madeline de Lange in Lyon, France in… sixteen seventy."

  "No way!" I blurted before I could help myself. Tomi and Lily were shell-shocked. Devon was the only one not hanging onto Mrs. T's words. She was looking at Morgan.

  "It's true," said Mrs. T. softly. "I was the youngest of three daughters born to Arnold de Lange, a local silk merchant. My family was by no means destitute. However, my father only had money enough for my oldest sister Eugenie's dowry. He married her off to the son of his biggest business rival, which proved advantageous to his interests. My other sister, Sidonie, married my father's apprentice. As the youngest, I was left with no prospects. So when the wife of my father's elderly accountant died, and he asked for my hand in marriage, my father jumped at the chance to marry me off. I was fifteen. My husband-to-be was sixty-five and as mean as a rattlesnake. I refused to marry him. It was a huge embarrassment to my father. As punishment I was sent to a nearby convent until I came to my senses."