The Maze The Lost Labyrinth

CHAPTER 25



So there I was, trapped inside a maze called Conviction, with no clue how I was supposed to get out. Oh, sure, there were hints, thinly-veiled metaphors, and messages all meant to give me insight, but at this point I felt like a donkey being led around with a carrot dangling in front of its face.

“All I want is a straight answer.”

“The answers have never been straighter,” Connie said. “In a place of truth, there are no lies.”

“Spoken like a true sage. If you give everything multiple meanings, then every interpretation will be correct.”

“You don’t want to get out of here, do you?”

“All I want is to get back to my family and make things right. I want to get my life back on track. I want to go toward that light and stay there. I’m tired of living in shadows.”

“So what’s stopping you from doing any of those things?” Connie asked.

“You are.”

“Remember, I told you that this labyrinth is a place of free will. Maybe you couldn’t go toward the light because you hadn’t convinced yourself that the light is where you wanted to be.”

I banged my fists on the walls. “I want out of here!”

“So leave. The light will come to you, but you have to make the first move. Remember, the choice is yours.”

“So I can go there now?”

“Ask your heart that question.”

“Thanks for the non-answer.”

Although I had tried it before, I walked toward the light. As I walked, I thought about my life and how I truly wanted to change. I wanted the chance to get out of this dreary place and reform myself. I focused on the good in my life instead of the bad. I had a good job. I had a great family. I had a nice house, friends, people who cared about me. My life was better than I realized, and I wanted to get back to it. Although it was still quite a ways off, the light actually seemed to get bigger as I trudged down the gloomy hallway. I was making progress now.

Still, there seemed to be a lot of ground to cover. I had no doubt that there would be more tests, more traps that I could fall into if I wasn’t careful.

Nothing reinforced that notion more than the sudden appearance of frost on the walls. The passageway made an abrupt right turn, and I could tell by the icicles hanging from the ceiling that I was about to enter a dangerous place, made all the more so by the fact that I wasn’t dressed for winter. I shivered and watched my breath erupt in white plumes of fog.

“The Hall of the Crucified Thief is just ahead,” Connie said. “I’ll tell you more when the time is right.”

“The Hall of the Crucified Thief? Now doesn’t that just sound like a perfect vacation getaway.”

Connie, however, didn’t respond. She was gone for now. I was alone again.

It was like walking into a deep freezer. My teeth chattered with each step I took forward. Everything was covered in a thick layer of ice, and I walked slowly to keep from slipping.

As I ventured onward, taking care to avoid the low hanging icicles that threatened to impale me, I thought about what I knew about the Crucified Thief. All the sermons I had heard preached on the subject referenced the Thief as a focal point of hope for lost souls. The Thief had led a sin-filled life and been condemned to crucifixion because of his crimes. It was only as he hung on his cross, directly beside the cross of Jesus, that he received forgiveness. His last-minute repentance showed that it was never too late to receive salvation, and that a man could be saved as long as there was breath in his lungs and a true desire for forgiveness in his heart.

That kind of joyous example seemed at odds with the frigid, mind-numbing hallway I had stepped into. There was no hope in this kind of place. In fact, the desolation was so extreme that my heart felt heavy and overburdened. Veins of black ice ran across the floor, spider-webbing their way up the walls. Where the hall should have ended, stalactites and stalagmites of ice had fused together forming a set of bars that would have rivaled those in any prison. The only way to get to the light was to go through the ice, and I didn’t have any kind of tools to use for digging.

It was only as I looked around, hoping for some way out of this newest predicament that I saw the Thief, frozen in the ice, nailed to that frigid cross. It was like looking at a bug trapped in amber, preserved for thousands of years.

Although his expression was the same one he’d died with, it seemed to accuse me. His eyes followed me wherever I went. I would have done anything to get away from that accusatory stare, but there was no place to hide.

I tried to move to another part of the frozen hallway, but I was frozen to the floor. My entire left foot was covered in frost, and the frost was spreading. I panicked and tried to yank my foot away. It was no use. I was stuck, and the ice wormed its way up my leg, making me cold at first and then numb.

“What’s happening to me?” I hoped the maze could hear me.

Connie answered. “Once we grow cold, it doesn’t take long for the feeling to go away.”

I knew what this meant. This was complacency freezing me into place. I didn’t want to be numb to the evils that were going on around me. I wanted to feel, to be acutely aware. I didn’t want to be oblivious.

“How does any of this match the story of the crucified thief?” My voice quivered as the ice spread to encase both of my legs.

“There were two thieves crucified with Christ,” Connie said. “Your heart dictated which of these thieves would represent this place.”

Both of my hands froze together, fusing as if encased in cement. I had clasped them together in preparation for prayer.

“This isn’t Paradise, is it? But I want it to be.”

“Do you? The ice suggests otherwise.”

My teeth chattered with each new word. I could feel the ice moving up my chest toward my throat. It wouldn’t be long before even my words were preserved by sub-zero temperatures. “I want to be saved from all of this. I know I’ve sinned, and I would do anything to make that sin disappear. But I can’t.”

“You can.”

I wasn’t able to respond. My entire body was frozen solid, like a hunk of meat thrown into a blast freezer. I couldn’t feel my arms, my legs, my face or even the heart inside my chest. It had stopped beating as it iced over. I hadn’t felt much more than this at Karen’s doorstep. There was not one bit of remorse or hesitation. I was so cold that I couldn’t believe Amy hadn’t frozen to death in the past few weeks. I was frustrated that I didn’t feel anything. One of my tear ducts was covered in hardened sleet and a fine crystalline frost. The other one managed a single tear that slid down my face. The effect of that grief was instantaneous.

The ice melted slowly at first and then faster as the weight of my guilt increased. I had been raised to repent, but like so many other aspects of my life, I had disregarded the teachings of my childhood. My heart might as well have been packed in ice for all of the feeling it used to have. It was warm and beating now; I could feel it.

Icicles crashed to the ground, shattering like delicate glass. The frost on the walls warmed and trickled down to the floor, sluicing away some of my guilt. The frozen bars separating me from the light narrowed and eventually disappeared; an internal heat reduced them to little more than puddles that carved tunnels into the ice beneath my feet. The thief simply faded away into nothingness.

Soon, all the ice was gone and the light was closer now than I had ever seen it. After wiping the tears from my eyes, I walked through the door where the ice had been, and a question sprang to mind.

“Connie, where’s Midnight?”

“You mean the dog? He’s here someplace. You just don’t need him anymore.”

“Where did he come from?”

“Where do you think he came from?”

“Prayer?”

“Although you didn’t know it, at the time you were praying for deliverance, Amy was praying for you too. So was Judith. Your wife wants to forgive you.”

“So why can’t I go to them?”

“You aren’t ready yet. You’re getting there though.”

“Are you The Architect? Someone by that name was mentioned in one of the notes I read.”

Connie laughed. This time it wasn’t the laugh of a little girl but the husky chuckle of a woman. “No, I’m not The Architect. But you know who it is.”

“I don’t.”

“Think about it. This labyrinth was constructed based on the blueprint of your life.”

“So I’m The Architect?”

“It makes sense, doesn‘t it?”

That revelation brought up a very distinct possibility that filled me with more hope than I had been filled with in a long time. “So is it reasonable to assume that I’m to blame for the lack of exits in this place.”

“It is. You’ve been so complacent and contented with your gradual decline into immorality that you haven’t wanted a way out. The exit has always been there if you wanted it badly enough.’

“I want it,” I said. “I do.”

“Then prove it. The only way to do that is to make the exit appear. If it‘s there, all you have to do is walk out, never to set foot in this place again. If it‘s not there, then you aren’t truly ready for it. Remember you can stumble around in darkness as long as you‘d like. It‘s up to you to find your way out of here.”

“I’ve got to truly want to give up my old life and start anew.”

“You will die in this place one way or another.”

“Yes, he will.”

Asterion’s voice was more imposing than it had ever been before. This wasn’t the helpful, stoic creature that had watched me defeat Cerberus. Asterion was bloodthirsty now, and I was the source of his discontent.

“I thought you were just overseeing the festivities here. I didn’t realize you were one of the tests.”

“I’m the ultimate test.”

“I don’t understand.”

Connie spoke up. “You should run now.”

“I’ll give you five seconds head start,” the minotaur said. “Then I will come to kill you. For what it’s worth, Darrell Gene Rankin is with Amy and Judith in your house even as we speak. If you win, your family will live and Darrell Gene will be burdened to consider his misdeeds. If you lose, there’s no telling what he might do. Darrell Gene’s a very strong man, you know, and he‘s hated your family from the moment he saw you. The results, I expect, won‘t be pleasant.”

The thought of Darrell Gene in my house made me physically ill, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it aside from playing the game that the minotaur had laid out for me. Confused and frightened, I did the only thing I could do.

I ran toward the light at the end of what still seemed to be an impossibly long tunnel.