The Maze The Lost Labyrinth

CHAPTER 14



With trepidation, I followed Asterion down the long hallway. Midnight padded along behind me, keeping a safe distance from the minotaur.

Asterion seemed to know exactly where we were going and how to get there. I didn’t bother trying to keep up with each twist and turn. I was already confused enough as it was. Thankfully it was only a short while before we’d reached a wrought iron gate interlaced with ivy.

“Have you learned to navigate the walls yet?” Asterion asked me.

I shook my head. “I’ve played around with the symbols a bit, but obviously I haven’t found the escape.”

“Watch and learn.” He located three glowing numbers. “Sixty-six. Three. Twenty.”

Abruptly, the wrought iron gate swung open on well-oiled hinges.

“I don’t understand.”

“The sixty-sixth book in the Bible is Revelation. The third chapter and twentieth verse says, 'Behold I stand at the door and knock.'”

“So these numbers represent passages in the Bible?”

“Among other things.” Asterion didn’t bother to elaborate. Midnight and I followed the creature through the door. It felt like we were deliberately walking into a trap, but there was nothing I could do about it.

The amphitheater spread out before us looked like a bowl that had been carved out of the earth. Rows of benches circled the arena, but no one was there to sit on them. A throne of bones sat higher than anything else and looked out over the battlefield. I assumed this was where Asterion was going to sit. I imagined Nero playing his fiddle on a throne like that as he watched Christians being fed to the lions.

“This is where you will fight---and possibly die.”

I shot Asterion a look. “You really know how to fill a guy with hope.”

“Hope is not my sole purpose.” Asterion uncovered a stone table filled with weapons. “Choose carefully.”

The table was filled with swords, knives, archery supplies, axes, spiked clubs, maces, morning stars, whips, and lengths of rusty chain. No warrior would have trouble trying to outfit himself for battle. Unfortunately, I was no warrior.

In addition to the standard array of weapons, there were also several items that didn’t seem dangerous no matter how they were used: a bouquet of roses, a vial of a clear liquid that might have been water, a wooden flute, a plate of small pastries, a pocket watch, and a notebook. Given the popularity of Biblical allusion in the maze, I nearly asked the beast where the sling and five smooth stones were. Somehow, I didn’t think Asterion had a sense of humor.

“Any hints on which one to choose? Maybe I should eat the pastries first for strength. Wash it down with that vial of water. Play a little tune on the recorder. Consult the pocket watch for the number of minutes I have left to live. And write a goodbye letter to my wife and son in the notebook.”

“You forgot about the roses,” Asterion said dryly. “Those would be for your grave.”

“Or I could give them to you in appreciation of your overbearing menace and your out-of-this-world personality.”

“This is not a laughing matter!”

“If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well laugh. Besides, I’m just trying to decide what weapon to pick.”

The minotaur shrugged. “You, better than anyone else, know what your strengths are. However, I‘m certain that knocking on the doors of old girlfriends is not a skill that will come in handy down here in the fighting pit.”

“Touché.” Apparently the minotaur did have a sense of humor. I was really starting to dislike him. Midnight barked and let it trail off into a growl. It was clear he didn’t like Asterion either.

I picked a sword up off of the table and was surprised by how heavy it was. The war hammer was the same way. Neither of those seemed very suitable for fighting. I left the bullwhip and cat o’ nine tails alone too. I’d owned a bullwhip as a boy and had never been able to wield it without accidentally lashing myself in the face or on the backside. The mace was a very short-range weapon, which ruled it out: I didn’t want to get any closer to my opponent than absolutely necessary. I was already going to be at a serious disadvantage because I wasn’t a fighter.

I just didn’t know what to choose.

“Can I at least see my opponent first?”

I didn’t really expect him to agree, but the minotaur nodded. He touched a few more numerals on the glowing walls and caused another door to open. He walked through the entrance calmly and emerged, struggling to haul something into the arena that seemed to be his equal in strength. The chain separating the two was pulled tight, and the cacophony coming from the darkened doorway sounded like a tub full of angry babies. Puzzled, I looked at Midnight and wasn’t surprised to see the dog look back at me with bewilderment in his eyes.

Midnight’s bewilderment quickly changed to anger. He barked at whatever was on the other end of that chain, and much to my surprise, something barked back.

“Your opponent.” Asterion dragged the beast into the light.

At first I wasn’t sure I was seeing clearly. The dog was bigger than any dog had a right to be, but it wasn’t the creature’s size that gave me reason for pause. The dog had three heads, each of which seemed angry and ferocious and eager to rip me to little bloody pieces.

“Cerberus.” The three-headed dog lunged and strained at the chain- it was all Asterion could do to keep the creature in check. He finally tethered the beast to a stake that had been driven into the ground for just such a purpose. That paltry security measure didn’t fill me with confidence, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine Cerberus ripping that stake out of the ground and reducing me to hamburger. I eyed the weapons on the table a little more carefully, wondering why there wasn’t a machine gun or a grenade launcher among the choices.

Midnight growled at our opponent, sounding harsh and abrasive like an engine running without motor oil. Nothing seemed to scare him, and he was doing his best to get his bluff in. It made me feel better, but only a little. Cerberus barked at us in reply, sounding like an entire pack of rabid dogs.

Midnight tensed beneath my hand, ready to fight. “Not yet,” I grabbed at the scruff of his neck to keep him from rushing at Cerberus in a mad frenzy.

“This dog normally guards the gate to Hades. Today he’s serving a slightly different purpose. ”

“Shouldn’t he be getting back to his post? All of the souls might escape.”

The minotaur didn’t laugh. “I only meant that he’s an expert on death. The Greeks feared him tremendously, as should you.”

“What is it with this place and mythology? If I had known I’d be coming here, I would have read up on my history a little more, maybe even watched a few episodes of Xena: Warrior Princess.”

“There are hints of truth everywhere if only you know where to look. The Greeks and Romans knew this as well as anyone.”

“Good for them,” I said. “That’s why they’ve done so well over the years.”

“Cerberus waits to devour you.”

“I’m sure I’ll give him a stomachache.”

“You may view this creature in one of two ways. At the very least, he is a vicious creature who thirsts for your blood and will not hesitate to rip out your throat at the first opportunity.”

“I think I’ll take what’s behind door number two instead. That first option doesn’t sound too appealing.”

“Cerberus is also a figurehead of sorts. A representation of your life.”

Out of all the things the minotaur could have told me, this was one thing I wasn’t prepared to hear. “Explain yourself.”

“All I will say is this. No man can serve two masters---or in this case three.”

“Thanks, Yoda.”

“That’s all I’m prepared to say.”

I sighed. “Fine. I guess I’ll have to face the flesh-and-blood version of this beast and figure out the rest later. Somehow, I‘m pretty sure that representation over there is ready to eat me for lunch.”

“Choose your weapon,” Asterion urged. “The time is at hand.”

“What should I pick?” I asked Midnight.

“You should understand him better than me.”

The dog looked at me with sympathy and picked the recorder off of the table with his teeth.

“Seriously?” I sighed. “Maybe I’ll bore him to death by playing some old Jethro Tull.”

The dog offered the flute to me again. I had read about Cerberus before and knew why the recorder was significant. In one of the stories from mythology, Cerberus had been put to sleep by the music of a flute. There was no way I was going to try that approach. Number one, I wasn’t a flute player. Number two, I was sure Cerberus would rip me limb from limb before I could even get the instrument to my lips.

“Is that your choice?”

“That’s Midnight’s choice.” I tried to bend the situation to my advantage. “I still haven’t chosen yet.”

Asterion glared at me. “The dog does not get a choice.”

“Technically I’m facing three opponents here. You only said that I would face one. So I think letting us keep the flute isn’t really that much of a concession.”

Asterion thought this over for a minute and finally spoke. “Choose your weapon.”

Figuring that it wouldn’t make that much difference anyway, I chose a battle axe that looked like it had severed its fair share of heads. I ran my thumb over the blade, drawing blood immediately. “This one feels good.”

Asterion looked even meaner if that were possible. “Let the fight begin!”