by Jody Hedlund
“There,” I said above the cries of the wounded and the shouts of battle. “At the center of the room. An engraving. It could be what we’re looking for.”
King Ethelwulf studied the spot. Then he motioned to several of his knights. “Escort the princess and stand guard around her as she examines the engraving.”
My legs shook at the prospect of going so near the beast, but I pressed my knees together beneath my gown. Before doubts could assail me, I forced myself to walk directly toward the creature, keeping my unwavering gaze upon it. I let one thought drum through my head: Be courageous. Be courageous. Be courageous.
“Emmeline!” Rex shouted, catching sight of me as he ducked out of the tail’s path. “What are you doing?”
I didn’t slow my stride or the litany in my head but stayed focused on the creature. I couldn’t worry about Rex. I couldn’t worry about the outcome of this moment. I couldn’t worry about what the creature might do to me.
The only thing that mattered was remaining strong and showing this beast it couldn’t scare me.
Finally, as though sensing my approach, the reptile swiveled its head, lifted its snout, and sniffed the air. Its glassy eyes searched for me, and it released a low, menacing growl.
“Emmeline, no!” Rex’s voice rose with desperation.
Even as he rushed toward me, likely intending to toss me over his shoulder and carry me away, I held out my hand to stop him. In the same moment, the creature ceased its thrashing and dropped its tail.
Rex reached for me, but I sidestepped his grasp.
The soldiers who were still alive and uninjured rushed upon the now quiet beast, causing it to thrash again.
“Cease your attack upon the creature!” I shouted at the men.
Rex hesitated only a moment before issuing a command for his men to halt. As the soldiers obeyed, the beast stilled, returned its attention to me, and sniffed the air again.
I continued until I stood directly over the engraving at the very center of the labyrinth, only a foot from the beast. A strange peace had settled over me, sweeping away my trembling fears. My blood pulsed with new energy and confidence and determination.
As the creature hissed and sent its forked tongue toward me, I watched in fascination.
Next to me with weapons still drawn, Rex tensed, his fierceness palpable.
I laid my hand on his arm in both caution and reassurance and at the same time held my head high as the tongue flicked my cheek. The touch stung but then was gone in an instant. The beast hissed again, bared its sharp fangs, then lowered its snout until it almost touched my face.
At the sight of a scar near its eye, I realized this was likely the same creature Maribel had saved while she and Edmund had been in the labyrinth. Did the beast recognize me as Maribel’s twin in some primal way?
Rex’s muscles flexed, and I sensed his desire to plunge his weapon into the unprotected spot on the creature’s neck. I squeezed his arm, hoping he understood he’d do more harm than good if he attacked now.
With a final sniff, the beast jerked away and roared so that its breath hit me full in the face. Not only was it hot and damp, but the stench was unbearable. I guessed it was making one last attempt to intimidate me, but I refused to back down. Instead, I stiffened my shoulders and lifted my chin, glaring at it and daring it to hurt me.
After releasing its terrifying roar, it watched me for another moment before turning and lumbering away toward the arch to the far north. I wasn’t sure it would be able to squeeze through the opening, but it shook itself so that its scales overlapped, diminishing its size until it resembled an enormous lizard—one that could easily traverse the tunnels and withstand its dangers.
As its spiked tail disappeared into the black corridor, I wasted no time and dropped to the floor to examine the engraving. I doubted the beast would stay away for long, and we’d need every second of reprieve to find the treasure.
Rex knelt next to me. His expression contained an awe mirrored in the faces of the soldiers surrounding us.
“We need to hurry,” I said. “The creature will be back.”
Rex rapidly focused on the spot on the floor, his muscles radiating with urgency.
I smoothed my fingers over the engravings. One was a replica of the wild boar from my key. Another was the tree of life, and the final was a pomegranate with seeds spilling out. The symbols on the keys. I traced them—courage, healing, and wisdom.
Adelaide’s words pushed to the front of my mind: Perhaps real treasure lies not in the wealth deep in the labyrinth, but in the gifts God has bestowed upon us—gifts we can use for the greater good of the kingdom and the people.
Long ago, King Solomon had understood the same thing—that his purpose and strength as a ruler wasn’t found in earthly treasures. He’d believed true wealth resided inside us by using the gifts God bestows.
I’d always struggled with fear and never believed I was courageous, but perhaps courage had been building inside me through the tiny steps I’d been taking all this time by doing things even when I was terrified. Now, in the face of the biggest challenges yet, God was helping to unleash the gift.
While I might never know if the keys my sisters and I had each guarded for so many years had played a role in which gift we’d received, I did know courage had surged through me when I’d most needed it.
I fingered the circular outline of the engraving, noting that tiny pieces of the chinking had come loose and had broken away in some places. I reached for my knife wedged in Rex’s belt. He relinquished it, and I wasted no time prying it into the thin rim and chipping away the rest of the remaining mortar. Rex followed my lead, and within seconds we’d separated the center engraving from the stone floor surrounding it.
Rex jabbed his sword into the space, straining and lifting in the same motion. Another of his men aided him in pressing up from the bottom while a third hoisted from the top. After hefting for long moments, the round stone with the engraving scraped upward and came free.
By now, everyone had gathered near us, and one of the men held a torch over the hole. At the sight of three key ports, I blinked back stinging tears of relief. “We did it,” I said, catching Rex’s gaze.
He nodded solemnly, studying my face as though trying to make sense of who I was.
I wanted to smile and reassure him everything would be fine. But untold dangers still lay ahead. Though I may have earned us a window of safety, we wouldn’t truly be out of harm’s way until we left the labyrinth far behind.
King Ethelwulf had come forward and was now kneeling next to Rex, peering into the hole. Rex dug into the pouch under his chain mail and pulled out the three ancient keys now hanging together on a golden key ring. They clanked together as he placed them into the king’s outstretched hand. The king eagerly lowered the keys to the hole.
“Your Majesty,” I said. “We should take care which key we insert into which port.”
The king halted. “Which do you suggest first?”
I glanced at the engraving, hoping it held a clue, but was unable to decipher what it was. “My guess is that the pomegranate—wisdom’s key—comes first since that’s what King Solomon asked for first.”
“Very well.” The king found the key with the pomegranate, inserted it, and turned.
I held my breath, listened, and waited.
When nothing adverse happened, all eyes focused upon me. I mulled over the account of Solomon from the Holy Scriptures. When the young king had asked for wisdom, God had been so pleased with his request that He’d granted him the things he hadn’t asked for—riches and honor. Finally, God had promised long life if Solomon obeyed his commands.
Honor. Courage brought honor. Was my key second? And healing. It was linked with a long life. Was Maribel’s key third?
We had no choice but to try them and see what happened. I couldn’t let fear hold me back and forsake my courage now. “Insert the boar key second and the tree of life third.”
The king lo
wered his hand back into the hole and twisted the keys into each of the ports. Then we all stared and waited. I wasn’t sure what we were looking for next. If we’d inserted the keys in the wrong order, I suspected we’d find ourselves in greater danger than before.
A moment later, the floor began to rumble, quake, and then give way beneath our feet.
Chapter
21
Rex
“Everyone back away!” I shouted. “Move to the wall.”
Entranced by the crumbling floor, Emmeline didn’t budge. I grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back with me. When I reached the smooth, circular wall, I pressed against it, wrapping my arms around her and securing her against me.
The crashing and cracking continued, so loud that for a moment we could only stand and watch and pray we wouldn’t be swept down with the rubble.
Finally, after long minutes, the rumbling stopped, leaving a cloud of dust in the air. But even with the haze, we could see the original hole had crumbled away so that the diameter was now several feet wide.
Did we dare cross the floor and return to the chasm? What if our weight caused another avalanche? What if more dangers arose from the depths?
My embrace around Emmeline tightened as I pictured her face-to-face with the beast, so near to death and yet so calm. The very thought of how close she’d come sent chills up my backbone. And yet, how could I be angry with her for putting herself at such risk when her daring challenge had likely saved all of us?
“Someone needs to return to the center,” the king said from where he stood plastered to the wall a few paces away.
“I’ll do it.” Emmeline jolted free before I could grab her back, and she stalked across the floor.
“Emmeline.” I jumped to follow her. “Let me test the safety of the floor first.”
She didn’t slow, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop her now, any more than I had in the tunnels or with the beast. As much as I wanted to sweep her up, escape from the labyrinth, and never look back, I sensed this was where she needed to be, that this was more a part of her destiny than it was mine.
When the rest of the ground remained secure under our weight, the others, including the king, returned to the hole, attempting to see past the dust to what was inside. One of our torchbearers held his light above the opening, revealing a winding stone stairway.
“Are there any more traps we should be aware of?” the king asked, his eyes alight with the excitement that came whenever he spoke of the hidden treasure.
“I cannot guarantee we’re out of danger,” Emmeline said. “But I pray we have suffered the worst.”
“You must lead the way.” The king waved toward the stone steps.
“Your Majesty.” I stepped forward. “Please allow me.”
“Your wife will go first and determine our safety.”
Was this still part of proving my allegiance after disobeying him? With Emmeline in the labyrinth, I’d swallowed my fear time after time. And I’d swallowed my frustration with the king for disregarding my need to protect and cherish Emmeline.
But how could I let her put herself in danger yet another time? I couldn’t. And yet how could I defy the king again? He’d punish me severely, perhaps carry through with his threat to give the throne to Magnus. I couldn’t let that happen. The land would suffer with a man like Magnus on the throne.
Just like the land has suffered under my father . . .
The thought came unbidden and unwanted.
Quickly, I shook it away. I couldn’t allow myself to analyze his methods of leadership. Not now. It would only stir my growing discontent and dislike.
As Emmeline descended onto the top step, I resisted the urge to jump ahead and lead the way. Maybe with this descent, I’d finally prove my loyalty to the king, and he’d permit me to take Emmeline to the surface. After all, she’d finished guiding us here. She’d done above and beyond what the king had wanted. In fact, if not for her, we wouldn’t have survived this far.
I took a torch from one of the guards and followed after Emmeline, holding her arm to keep her from stumbling and from getting too far ahead. As we moved past the dust from the rubble, a damp, musty scent enveloped us.
“Test the step carefully before putting your whole weight on it,” I instructed as we navigated the narrow, cracked stone slabs.
Thankfully, Emmeline followed my order and climbed down cautiously. Nonetheless, my heart pounded so hard that my chest ached from the pressure. This search wasn’t worth Emmeline’s life. In fact, she was more precious than all the treasure in the world. I’d gladly give it up to make sure she was safe.
Did I dare stop now and abandon this cause?
With a gasp, she halted abruptly. I was glad for my quick reflexes that I didn’t bump into her and send her toppling.
“Look,” she whispered.
I stretched the torch out over the abyss below and drew in a sharp breath. A chamber twice as large as the one above spread out in a circular shape, and it was filled with chests, goblets, relics, and artifacts I couldn’t even name. Layers of dust and cobwebs covered everything, turning the room a dusty gray from centuries of lying undisturbed, but there was no denying the vast riches.
“It’s here,” I called to the king, unable to keep the wonder and excitement from my tone.
“Is it safe to descend?” he asked.
Anger pricked me again, rapidly deflating any sense of thrill. As Emmeline moved down the stairs, I had to bite back my retort and force myself to continue, though everything within me resisted, my loyalties tearing so that I feared I might never be able to respect the king again.
Behind me, his footsteps tapped against the stone, and more torchlight filled the cavern, driving away the darkness and revealing the immensity of the treasure that spread out in all directions.
After two dozen or more steps, we finally reached the bottom. A single narrow path led through the center of the room lined on either side with mounds of priceless items.
I studied the ceiling and floor, searching for any signs of peril. “What do you know of this room and the dangers that lie within?”
Emmeline was examining the ceiling and floor as well. “Saint Bede left no further clues beyond the tunnels.”
“Then we have nothing to fear here? No knives, pikes, or shards?”
“I cannot say.” Emmeline took a tentative step down the path.
I gripped her arm to hold her back. “You have gone far enough. I shall test the path.”
She shifted to look at me with her wide brown eyes. “I’m not afraid, Rex.”
Her expression reflected the same confidence she’d had when facing the beast. I didn’t understand it or even like it, but I could grudgingly admire her determination. “Stay here. You have put yourself in harm’s way long enough.”
Before she could argue with me, I strode down the path, observing everything and trying not to miss a detail. When I reached the opposite end without any problems, I pivoted to find the king on the bottom step watching me. Several soldiers were also on the stone stairway, holding their torches above the room and illuminating the treasure.
Their eyes, like the king’s, reflected the same exhilaration that had filled me only moments ago. But I couldn’t muster it again, not even after traversing the length of the chamber without triggering any deadly traps.
“Have the princess open one of the chests,” the king ordered.
“I have proven my allegiance,” I blurted before I could stop myself. “Now I would leave Emmeline out of any further danger.”
The king met my gaze. “I am the king, and you will do as I say.”
Would he have me kill my spirit to uphold his desires? For that is what would happen if I obeyed him rather than my conscience.
“She will open one of the chests,” he said again, this time his voice ominously low, daring me to defy his order.
My anger kindled hotter, along with something much more painful. But before I could protest again
, Emmeline grasped the lid of the nearest chest and started to lift it.
“Emmeline, wait!” My footsteps slapped against the floor at the same time the creak of rusty hinges echoed within the chamber.
She had to use two hands and heft it hard. By the time I reached her, she’d pushed it all the way up. We stood silently, watching the chest, waiting for disaster to spring out upon us.
After several tense moments, I allowed myself to breathe again. Before Emmeline could do anything else, I pulled her to my side. “You are finished here,” I said harshly.
As she sidled against me, I found no relief from my internal war. And I could find no joy as the king descended the last step, walked safely to the open treasure chest, and smiled at the contents—thousands of gold coins, untouched by the elements and age. They were polished and smooth and engraved with an ancient writing. The torchlight refracted their brightness, making them glitter.
The one chest would provide more than enough to pay hundreds of mercenary soldiers to come to our aid in defending Delsworth. Adding in the dozens of chests and mounds of other items, the king would easily become the richest ruler in the world.
And the most powerful.
As the next in line, I’d stand to inherit it all. The prospect sent a tremor through me—one I didn’t understand, one that filled me with doubts. Could the king or I really be trustworthy stewards of such wealth?
The king picked up a handful of the coins and let them slip through his fingers, the clinking a tempting sound. As if needing to touch the gold to reassure himself it was truly real, he removed his gloves and with bare fingers dug deeper, stirring and reveling in the riches, his royal onyx ring dark against the gold.
“You see.” He smiled at me, his eyes alight. “This is why I needed to push you to remain strong and do the task no matter how difficult and no matter the sacrifice.”
I bowed my head in acknowledgment of his statement, although I disagreed completely. If I had to do everything over again, knowing I would reach the treasure, I still wouldn’t have brought Emmeline down into the labyrinth.
