by Eliza Raine
‘Immortal,’ breathed Lyssa. ‘A word which is in every way better. The word is “immortal”.’ As she said it, the sphinxes began to shrink, folding backwards and disappearing into the stone pillars.
‘What was the missing gem?’ called Phyleus.
‘What does it matter?’ Lyssa said incredulously. ‘We solved it!’
‘Moonstone.’ The voice of the sphinxes carried quietly over as they melted into the arch completely, becoming just large lion heads carved into the stone once again.
‘Of course! Moonstone,’ Phyleus said, putting his hand to his head. ‘I’m sure I would have worked it out eventually.’ Lyssa shook her head at him.
‘Look.’ Nestor pointed at the lion head on the left. One of its eyes was different, made from something other than the yellow stone of its body. It glittered in the filtered light, but Lyssa was positioned too high up to see it clearly. Phyleus stepped up to the head and laughed aloud as he peered at it.
‘It’s the key,’ he said, prising a dark blue orb out of the stone lion’s eye socket, then tossing it up to her. ‘And it’s made from Lapis Lazuli.’ Lyssa caught the orb with her good hand, and held it up to the light. It was beautiful. Most of it was a solid, deep rich blue, but veins of sparkling gold weaved across the smooth surface. Mesmerised, she turned it around in her hand, watching the gold streaks sparkle like the dust that they flew past in the sky.
‘It’s stunning,’ she breathed.
‘Yes. We need to go, Captain,’ said Nestor, almost causing Lyssa to drop the ball as she strode towards the archway. Lyssa huffed but said nothing as she placed the key carefully in the pouch on her belt and they passed through the arch.
8
‘Captain, we should have come across something by now,’ said Psyche warily.
Hedone thought she was right. There had been nothing but bare stone walls for corridor after corridor so far. She looked up at the leafy branches overhead. They were starting to thin out the further into the maze and away from the rest of the jungle they got.
‘Maybe the maze itself is enough of a test?’ she suggested.
‘No.’ Theseus shook his head, a few steps in front of her. ‘We need to collect two keys.’ There was a loud cranking noise behind them and they all spun around to look. A wall was rising from the dusty floor, sealing the corridor behind them.
‘What—’ Hedone turned back as a new noise started, to see an identical wall rising slowly in front of them. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Here, look,’ Bellerephon said. Hedone turned to see a chunk of the corridor on her left dropping into the floor, as fast as the other two walls were rising.
‘It’s a door. It seems we’re supposed to go this way,’ muttered Theseus, pushing his braids back from his face and stepping towards the growing doorway. Hedone shifted her spear into her other hand and frowned at the new walls in front of and behind them.
‘We don’t have much choice,’ she said.
Theseus stepped through the dark doorway first, and light immediately flooded the room. Bellerephon followed him, and then Psyche and Hedone stepped through together, and the cranking started up again. The doorway was rising, blocking the exit. Hedone resisted the instinctive urge to jump the lip of stone, to get back to the corridor and avoid being trapped. If she did that, she’d probably just get stuck out there instead.
She looked around the new room. They were standing on more dusty stone but in front of them, a few feet away, was a pool of gently lapping water. A rickety-looking rope bridge ran over the pool to the other side of the room, where a huge statue of a phoenix was carved from the stones of the wall itself. Its wings were spread out enough to reach the edges of the room and its beak was wide open.
‘Look at its eyes,’ muttered Psyche. Hedone squinted at the statue’s face, then jumped as red flashed in the bird’s eyes and a voice boomed from nowhere.
‘Pay the price for your success.’
‘Was that the statue talking?’ asked Hedone, eyebrows raised.
‘It doesn’t matter. We need to work out what to do,’ answered Theseus, turning away from the phoenix. ‘Look.’
Hedone followed his pointing finger. Behind them, either side of where the doorway had been, were two tall cylindrical stone basins, catching coloured liquid that flowed from small openings in the wall. The liquid on the left was a glittering silver, and the liquid on the right was a rich gold. A jug was stood against the base of each basin. Theseus stepped up to the basin containing the silver liquid and bent over to pick up the jug. He scooped some of the water into it and then poured it back into the bowl. Then he walked over to the gold liquid and did the same.
‘Maybe we need to mix them,’ he said quietly.
‘What for?’ Psyche asked, raising her eyebrows sceptically. He shrugged.
‘Pay the price for your success.’ He repeated the words they had heard. ‘This stuff is gold and silver.’
‘You’re suggesting that the liquid is money?’
‘Maybe.’
Hedone turned back to the phoenix statue across the pool.
‘Do we pay the statue?’ she asked.
‘There’s nothing else in here, so I guess so,’ Theseus answered.
‘Maybe we pour the liquid into its beak?’ she suggested.
‘Worth a try.’ Psyche shrugged and reached out for the jug. Theseus filled the one he was holding with gold liquid and passed it to her.
‘Take this,’ she said to Hedone and thrust her spear out. Hedone took it with her empty hand and Psyche stepped up to the bridge and wiggled the metal poles holding the rope handrail up. The metal didn’t move and she nodded. She put one gold-booted foot on the first plank hesitantly and the wood creaked loudly. Gripping the rope, she took a slow step forward. The was a loud crack and Hedone gasped as Psyche’s boot went through the plank and into the water below with a splash. Smoke began issuing from the water and Psyche yelled, hanging onto the rope handrail and flailing the jug in the other. Dropping the spears on the ground with a thud, Hedone darted forward, almost colliding with Bellerephon. He reached Psyche first, taking the jug from her and hauling her back onto the stone bank. The gold armour around Psyche’s foot and up her shin was smeared in black, no longer gleaming.
‘I think it’s acid,’ Psyche breathed as they all stared at it.
‘If you hadn’t had your armour on…’ Hedone started the sentence but didn’t finish it.
‘It’s my armour that caused the bridge to break. It’s too heavy.’
Everybody looked at her and Hedone gulped.
‘And I’m the lightest,’ she said slowly.
‘Just see if the bridge takes your weight. We’ll be right there if you need us,’ said Theseus gently. Hedone took a deep breath. This was good, she told herself. She could take ages, and then Hercules would have a better chance of winning. Finding ways to slow her own crew down was the only reason she was getting so involved with the Trials.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘Give me the jug.’ Bellerephon held it out to her and she took it, wincing at the weight. She would normally carry something this heavy with two hands.
She stood at the start of the bridge, holding the rope with one hand, and stretched her leg out over the now-missing first plank. She brought her foot down as lightly as she could on the next one, pushing tentatively. It creaked a little, but not as much as when Psyche had tried.
‘We’re right here, I’ve got you,’ Psyche said from directly behind her, and planted both hands reassuringly on her hips, ready to pull her back. With a final long breath out, Hedone pushed her foot down onto the plank and let the wood take her weight. She felt Psyche’s grip on her tighten for a moment, but the wood held.
‘I think it’s OK,’ she said, and tried to grip the other rope handrail while holding the jug. Gold liquid splashed out of it and hissed as it hit the water below. Hedone ignored it and lifted her other leg off the stone edge and onto the next plank. She felt Psyche’s hands leave her and heard the
woman make an anxious noise. But the wood only protested slightly, and Hedone reached for the state of concentration she had achieved when scaling the mountain on Capricorn. One leg in front of the other, she chanted in her head, as she shuffled her hands down the coarse rope, ignoring the liquid slopping from the jug. There was no way she could do this without holding the rail on both sides. She would just have to lose some liquid on the way and make more trips.
After counting ten planks, Hedone was relieved when her foot connected with hard stone. She held onto the metal poles at the end and pulled herself off the bridge, onto the narrow bank in front of the statue. She had to stand on tiptoes, and the jug was only half full, but as she poured the gold liquid into the phoenix’s beak there was a familiar whirring sound.
‘The door’s opening!’ called Psyche.
‘It’s working,’ breathed Theseus. ‘The eyes are starting to glow.’
Checking the jug was empty, Hedone stepped back a little to look at the statue’s eyes. He was right. A deep red glittered back at her.
9
Eryx leaped backwards as Antaeus roared with frustration and launched a heavy metal cog across the small room. It clanged loudly against the yellowing stone, then hit the floor and rolled soundlessly back towards them.
Eryx bent over and picked it up, then stared ahead with a sigh. The room was empty except for one wall, which was covered in short pins all holding up different-sized cogs. In the top right-hand corner of the room there was a small cage on a pulley, far too high for any for them to reach. In the bottom left-hand corner there was a rotating handle, attached to a fixed cog. Busiris had worked out quickly that they needed to arrange all of the cogs so that the bottom handle would turn them all in sequence, right up to the top pulley, which would lower the cage. But they had yet to succeed.
‘I thought you said this would be easy,’ Antaeus growled to Busiris.
‘Too many of the cogs are similar-sized,’ he replied gruffly. ‘We’ll just have to keep trying.’ Busiris snatched the cog from Eryx and walked up to the wall, pulling another cog – apparently identical – off a pin and replacing it with the one Antaeus had thrown.
‘We’re going to be here forever,’ Eryx groaned.
‘Shut up and try the handle,’ Busiris answered, stepping back and squinting at the wall. Eryx sighed again but did as he was told. Nothing happened.
‘If that one was there and this one was here…’ Busiris mumbled to himself and pulled more cogs off pins. ‘Captain, put this one here, please,’ he said, handing a large cog to Antaeus and pointing above his own head to a pin he couldn’t reach. Antaeus snatched the cog from him and scowled as he pulled off the current one.
‘This is a ridiculous test,’ he barked. Busiris glanced up at him as he rearranged more cogs.
‘It’s a different kind of test. So far, a lot less lethal than previous ones,’ he said. ‘Eryx, try again.’
Eryx pushed the handle half-heartedly, and started when he felt some resistance. He pushed harder and Busiris clapped his hands together.
‘That’s it!’ he exclaimed. The cogs were turning! The cage was slowly lowering on its rope and Eryx wound the handle faster, until Antaeus could reach it. His captain tore open the little grate on the front of the cage and pulled out a tiny glowing sphere.
‘A key,’ said Eryx. It was much, much smaller than the one he had got from the Hydra or the ones for the ice cage on Capricorn. Antaeus held it out to Busiris.
‘Look after it. It’s too small for my pockets,’ he said, and dropped the ball into Busiris’s hands. Eryx felt a twinge of jealousy but pushed it down. In fairness to Busiris, he had solved the test.
There was a whir, and Eryx turned to see the doorway that had sealed itself when they entered the cog-filled chamber reappearing behind them. It was hard not to feel a wave of relief at being able to leave the little room. There were not many trees overhead any more and the sky above was turning a deeper shade of orange, darkening the labyrinth and making it feel smaller. Eryx could understand his captain’s frayed temper. This was no place for a large man, let alone a full-sized giant.
‘I’m glad this maze has no roof,’ he said, out loud. ‘It would feel even smaller than it already does. Nice to see some sky.’ He forced some optimism into his voice.
Antaeus grunted but said nothing, staring at the growing doorway.
10
Evadne stood back, arms folded tightly across her leather vest. Hercules was not a stupid man, of that there was no doubt. But his strength clearly didn’t lie in playing children’s games. He had been standing in front of the huge stone puzzle for at least twenty minutes and she had no intention of offering him any help until he asked her for it. She knew it was a foolish thing to do, but she couldn’t help it. The longer she watched him pulling out the hand-sized tiles, brightly painted with intertwining serpents, then putting them back next to other tiles that didn’t match up, the more her resolve hardened.
She had played games like this throughout her lonely childhood, and had rushed to the central table when they entered the small stone room. But Hercules had pushed her out of the way and began pulling out the tiles, moving them around before she could stop him. Now the tiles were hopelessly jumbled up and he was no closer to solving the puzzle than when he started.
‘You think you could do better?’ His voice startled her as he growled without turning away from the table. Her simmering resentment must have been obvious. She thought about how to answer him. Her priority should be solving the puzzle and winning the Trial. And she couldn’t win a fight with him.
‘I played with puzzles like this a lot as a child,’ she said. Hercules stilled, then took a long step to the side of the table. He gestured at the puzzle with an outstretched arm, still not looking at her. His silence made her nervous and she felt a trickle of regret for her defiant behaviour.
‘I’m sure you’ll get there soon,’ she said, ‘but it might be quicker with two.’ And she stepped up to the table.
There were five different-coloured snakes among the jumbled tiles, and she started by collecting the matching colours together in heaps. Then she sorted through the stacks, finding pieces that had blank edges and were therefore likely to sit around the edge of the picture. She moved quickly, testing tiles against each other and discarding them fast when she spotted inconsistencies. Before long she had half of the picture in place, the snakes lined up perfectly across the table. She risked a sideways glance at her captain, but his eyes were fixed on the puzzle, his jaw set and his mouth a hard line. Apprehension pulled at her gut and she refocused on placing the tiles.
‘There,’ Evadne said, slotting in the last tile and stepping back to see the full image. She heard a click and the middle four tiles in the puzzle began rising up from the table. Underneath them, a metal sphere sat in a small steel cage.
‘The key!’ Evadne reached forward to open the cage, but stopped herself. ‘Captain,’ she said, and moved away from the table. Hercules leaned over the puzzle and opened the little door on the cage, pulling out the orb and dropping it into the pouch on his belt without inspection. There was a whir and Evadne turned to see the doorway that had disappeared when they entered the room slowly begin reforming in the wall.
‘Evadne,’ Hercules said quietly and she faced him.
The look in his eyes turned her blood cold.
‘I believe you are trying to make a fool of me.’
She shook her head emphatically, her stomach lurching involuntarily.
‘No, Captain, of course not.’
‘You could have offered your knowledge of these games much earlier than you did. Why did you not tell me earlier you knew how to solve it?’ He still spoke quietly, and it scared Evadne so much more than if he were shouting.
‘I… I thought you were doing well,’ she stammered. Hercules didn’t react, and she couldn’t hold his gaze. She dropped her eyes to floor. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t speak sooner, Captain. I will in future.’
> ‘Your future will be determined by me, Evadne. And at the moment, it’s looking bleak.’
He strode past her to the door and she squeezed her eyes shut. She was a damn fool! What was she thinking, being so obvious, so defiant? She needed to prove that he needed her, but on his terms. She knew that. She could not allow her emotions to get the better of her again.
11
‘Why don’t we have Len with us? We would have won this bloody Trial by now,’ Lyssa moaned.
They had roamed around the maze for another fifteen minutes, Nestor leading the way, and just when Lyssa was starting to feel frustratingly lost, a new doorway had appeared in the wall beside them. Walls had risen from the ground in front and behind them and they had no choice but to go through the new door, into a large room with a sandy floor. There were no trees overhead any more, and light from the orange sky shone down onto the bones that covered the sand. On the far wall of the room there was a detailed drawing of a dragon, wings raised high above its spindly neck and head. Lines had been drawn in red, pointing to various parts of the creature, and scribbled notes described the functions of its anatomy.
‘I don’t know how familiar Len is with dragon anatomy,’ said Phyleus, peering at the drawing.
‘More familiar than us, I’ll bet,’ she grumbled. Being stuck up on Nestor’s back was making her bad-tempered. She felt useless and her arm ached like hell.
‘The only thing in here is the bones. Do you think they’re from a dragon?’ asked Phyleus, dropping to his knees and picking up a bone longer than his arm.
‘Perhaps we need to arrange them correctly,’ said Nestor.
‘Correctly? Like, in the shape of a dragon?’ Phyleus looked at the centaur.
‘Yes.’
Lyssa looked from the picture to the bones and back again. It made sense.
