Those lonely peaks rise steadily into the Black Crescent range and then, eventually, to the Prince’s Crown,” Kaliam said as he led Aidan south of Mithegard and pointed to a dark, curling mountain range.
Aidan knew the path he would need to take already. “Gwenne and I came that way.”
“So then, did you see the gate hewn into the mountain? That is the entrance to Falon’s Stair.”
“No, um, the way we came, we kind of shot past it, I think.”
Kaliam stooped to the ground. “It is clear that the Army of Paragory traveled west to go around the mountains. Captain Valithor is right; they will camp inside the Crescent. But you will not follow, Sir Aidan. You shall continue north and find the entrance to Falon’s Stair. You will need to run, if there is to be any hope. The Black Crescent is a full two leagues from here.”
“Have you ever been there, in Falon’s Labyrinth?” Aidan asked, swallowing hard.
“What, me? In the mortiwraith’s lair? Nay, Sir Aidan. I have traversed many paths in my time, but that is one trail I have avoided. And if I had not heard it from the Captain’s own lips, I should never let you pass that way either!”
Aidan shook his head in agreement. Favor or not, Aidan didn’t want anything to do with a mortiwraith.
“This, then, is farewell,” said Kaliam, holding out his hand to Aidan. “I need to return with haste to Mithegard.”
“Before you go, Kaliam . . . may I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Back on the Grimwalk, when the Tempest came, how did you and the other knights escape? I mean, Gwenne and I jumped into a moonrascal hole!”
“Dragons,” replied Kaliam. “Just like that traitor Acsriot, only it was the King of Alleble who sent the dragons for us! The storm forced us to fly east of the Cold River. Finally, when the winds and snow had stopped, we flew back to the Grimwalk. We too wondered what had become of you—we searched for you through the night, in fact!”
Aidan shook his head.
“I hope we shall meet again,” said Kaliam. “You are a valiant lad, Sir Aidan, and a true servant of Alleble. Remember . . . never alone!”
“Never alone!” Aidan replied, though in truth he had never felt more alone in his life.
Kaliam sped off, backtracking to Mithegard, and Aidan turned and looked across the fields with their humps of purple moss. Two leagues, Kaliam had said. Aidan didn’t know how long a league was, but he knew it was long enough.
King Eliam, Aidan called out in his mind. If ever I have needed your strength and your help, it is now.
Aidan took off. He ran at full sprint, but after only a hundred yards or so, his heart crashed against his rib cage, and he found himself gasping for air. This isn’t working, he thought, and he stopped.
Reluctantly, Aidan stripped off his armor. Off went what was left of the shoulder harness, off went the breastplate, the vambraces— even the couters! When Aidan was finished, all he had left was his tunic and his breeches. He removed Fury, still in its sheath, and carried it by hand.
Then, Aidan took flight—or at least it felt like flying. Removing all that heavy metal made a huge difference, and Aidan ran light on his feet.
Aidan rocketed across the fields, driven by thoughts of Gwenne in danger. How he would rescue Gwenne if he somehow emerged from beneath the mountains, he had no idea, but he resigned himself that, if need be, he would die trying.
As he ran, he thought too of his friend Robby back in Maryland.
Aidan remembered a conversation he and Robby had shared the night before Aidan left for Colorado. It was a troubling conversation, full of anger and fear. Robby had asked Aidan hard questions. They were questions that Aidan could not answer . . . then.
“When I was ten, my parents started fightin’,” Robby had said, staring at the floor and wringing his hands continuously.“Dad’d complain about the house or the money. Then, Momma’d be upset that he was never around. I mean, they’d just holler at each other, callin’ each other things and slammin’ doors. I got so scared sometimes, I hid in my closet until they stopped. After a while . . . it got even worse. Then, one night my Dad didn’t come home—haven’t seen him since. Don’t even know if he’s still alive. It doesn’t make any sense, Aidan. Is this how life’s supposed to be?”
“What do you mean?” Aidan had asked.
“I mean, first I lose my dad. Now I’m losin’ my best friend.It’s like life is some cruel joke. Doesn’t seem like things ever work out for anybody, especially me.”
“It’s not that bad,” Aidan replied hollowly. He was instantly reminded of his father attempting to explain how great moving would be.
“It’s not?!” Robby objected bitterly. “Then, tell me . . . why do awful things like this happen? Why’d my dad take off ? Why do you have to move? Why do all those horrible things on the evening news have to happen?”
That night, Aidan had nothing to say. But now Aidan had all the answers Robby needed to hear. But who will tell him, Aidan wondered . . . if I don’t survive?
Spurred by the fear that no one would tell Robby—or Aidan’s own mom and dad for that matter—the truth about Alleble, about the reality of The Realm, Aidan reached deep within himself and found a gear he did not know he had. He traversed the final mile of the journey at top speed. The dark mountains of the Black Crescent loomed in front of him.
At the base of the mountain, some fifty yards away, a small but obvious cavelike entrance gouged the smooth face of rock. Aidan threw away his sheath, took Fury in both hands, and approached.
The entrance had no door, fence, or gate of any kind. It was simply a rectangular opening cut right into the side of the mountain. On a large stone next to the entrance was carved an odd and unnerving poem. Aidan read it to himself and shivered.
Ye have come to Falon’s Stair,
But enter not ye unaware,
For better men than thee have fled.
They that entered soon were dead.
The darkness spins your mind with fright,
As you descend into her night.
Beyond the steps the labyrinth waits,
With dangers untold and treasures great.
Know ye this as ye travel the maze:
Lest ye fall under Falon’s gaze,
There is one path alone to the light of day.
And death will come if ye lose your way.
With considerable dread, Aidan looked into the opening. The diminishing late-afternoon sun provided just enough light for him to see that Falon’s Stair actually was a spiral staircase. It curled down and in before disappearing into darkness.
This was no spooky legend or an imaginary boogeyman. To step down would be to enter a living nightmare. Either Aidan faced almost-certain death under these dark mountains or he turned back, allowing the wretched Knights of Paragor to take Gwenne and the others into a nightmarish land of torment and pain. Aidan took a deep breath. He simply could not allow his friend and other innocent Glimpses to die while he did nothing.
“Never alone,” he said aloud, and he stepped out of the waning sunlight into the darkness of Falon’s Stair.
Aidan held Fury out in front and began to descend. It was some comfort to have such a mighty blade as Fury with him. Even so, he took each step cautiously, stopping from time to time to listen for anything that might be traveling up the steps to meet him. Soon, the last glimmer of faint light was gone, and Aidan found himself in the deepest darkness he had yet encountered.
Of course, the moonrascal tunnels were dark too, but they seemed almost cheerful compared to the smothering black that surrounded Aidan now.
Holding the sword up as best he could with one hand, Aidan used the other hand to feel his way along the cold stone wall of the stair. What was that? He stopped. Aidan was certain he’d heard something down the stairs move just slightly. Aidan’s heart hammered away, and he used every last ounce of hearing ability, straining to pick up the sound again.
He waited and waited, but he did not hear anything. My mind is playing tricks on me.
Venturing farther, he began wondering if the gigantic slithering beast could be silently hunting him. Or maybe it was simply waiting with its tremendous jaws open at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Aidan to blindly fall right in!
Aidan didn’t want to be so afraid, but his body betrayed him. Aside from his breathing and racing heart, Aidan’s mouth felt full of sawdust, his throat full of gravel, and every muscle in his body was as tense as a bowstring.
To make matters worse, the temperature began to fall. Aidan was cold, for a tunic and a pair of leather breeches did nothing to turn away the eerie chill of the underground. Aidan guessed that he must be half a mile or more beneath the surface, and still the stairs went down.
The sound again! This time closer! It was too much for Aidan; he simply reacted. Grasping the mighty Fury with both hands, he swung the sword frantically in front of him. It clashed and clanged off the stone walls, sending sparks flying and a near-deafening metallic ring echoing up and down the stairs.
Aidan cringed, holding the sword pitifully out in front of him. She knows I’m here now, Aidan’s mind raced. Would Falon come? Was this the end of the adventure? Aidan soon had an answer.
“Welcome,” came a raspy, purring voice. The word was stretched as long as a fully exhaled breath. Icy wind swirled up the stairs. “It’s been soooo long since I’ve had a visitor . . . and a young one too, if my sense of smell is still keen . . .”
Aidan heard a whistling as the great beast inhaled deeply. “Mmmm . . . yes,” the voice continued, exhaling. “It is a young visitor, young but not Glimpse-kind. A nice surprise for Falon. What brings a savory young lad into a dark, dangerous place, hmmm? Is it treasures you seek? They are here . . . the finest gold, the most precious silver, and simply exquisite jewels . . . all for the taking, hmmm?”
Aidan was frozen. He tried several times to open his mouth to speak, but the words would not come.
“Pity . . . ,” came the voice again. “Not much to say . . . hmmm? Then perhaps riches are not what you seek. Then, could it be . . . you’ve come down my stair to slay little old Falon, is that it? Well, delectable one, is that what you aim to do?”
The beast laughed a sinister, mocking laugh that eerily echoed up the stairway.
Feeling that he’d better say something lest Falon get the wrong idea, Aidan forced himself to reply. “No, I . . . I don’t wish to harm you,” he stuttered. “Nor do I want to be harmed by you. I j-just want to get through because someone is counting on me.”
“Well then,” Falon replied, “why didn’t you say so, hmmm? You’re just a noble lad seeking passage, that’s all . . . Come, then, your path leads through my little labyrinth. Come on, hmmm?
“Don’t be afraid, for though I am very hungry, yes . . . famished, I promise not to harm you. No, I won’t even take so much as a nibble . . . as long as you find the right path through my maze. But you must make it all the way through, your first try! The moment you make even a single wrong turn . . . I’ll come visit you, my delicious stranger. Is it a deal, then, hmmm?”
“But, wait!” Aidan stammered. “There’s a fav—”
“Good then,” Falon decided. “You come on down to my little maze, hmmm? And I’ll just sneak off to my secret hiding place. Remember, not even one wrong turn . . .”
Aidan heard a great slither of motion from not too far below and then, silence. “Wait!” he cried again. “Captain Valithor said you owe him a favor!”
There was no answer, only silence . . . waiting, hungry silence.
How could an enormous man-eating creature be trusted? Aidan decided that he didn’t really have much of a choice, so he grasped Fury with both hands and continued down the stairs.
Eventually, it began to get lighter—not the glad, golden light of the outdoors, but rather a ghostly blue glow. Aidan could at least see the steps in front of him, and for the moment, that was some comfort.
Aidan followed the stairs around a bend. He lowered his sword and gaped. For his first sight of Falon’s Labyrinth literally stole his breath. The labyrinth lay in an underground cavern lit from above by glittering, gem-covered stalactites of deep purple and blue. The cavern floor was a garden of dark green rocks and coral-like stalagmites. And in the center of it all, more captivating than all the jeweled stones, was the labyrinth itself. Vast, intricate, and clever, the network of passages, turns, and dead ends ambled all over the cavern floor.
Its walls were twenty feet high and dotted with an array of jewels that sparkled and winked in the strange underground light. Aidan had expected a dark, dreary place, one fraught with jagged edges, cold pools of water, and pale, sightless creatures. And he wondered that such a sinister, evil creature would live in a place so marvelous and beautiful. If Aidan’s life hadn’t been in danger, he would have liked to just sit and look at the wondrous maze. As it was, however, he knew he had to figure out a way through.
Aidan was above the labyrinth, looking down at its entrance. How am I supposed to do this? he wondered. The walls were far too high to climb, the twists and turns were too complex, and Aidan had never been very good at solving puzzles or mazes. But as Aidan stared, he remembered a conversation he had shared with Gwenne one night while studying lore in the castle’s lower library.
“I don’t think I’ll be much help on this mission,” he had said.
“Fear not, Aidan,” Gwenne replied. “You have the best teachers in all of Alleble to help you complete your training.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” He shifted nervously in the tall chair. “See, I’m just not good at doing things on my own— even when I know what to do! I get afraid, all stressed-out, and I mess up.”
Gwenne smiled and had that mischievous look in her eyes.“You seem to think that you must rely only upon yourself. Have you forgotten King Eliam?”
“I can’t even go see him. And the scrolls don’t deal with every situation.”
“True. But, Aidan, there is something you must understand. When you opened The Door Within, it was not just so that you could pass through it, as you might go into a shop or a cottage. No, it was so that the King could become a part of you.King Eliam lives within you now, and you will never be alone.”
NEVER ALONE. Aidan felt peace, in spite of the task before him. He knew that King Eliam was with him and that, somehow, he would guide him through.
Aidan stared intently at the labyrinth, and suddenly, the sparkles in certain areas of the maze began to glitter more brightly. A pattern began to materialize: right, pass two; left, pass one; left, pass one; right, pass two; left, pass one; left, pass one . . . He couldn’t see it all the way through to the end, but he hoped he could figure it out once he got in.
“Not fair, appetizing one!” Falon’s voice echoed throughout the cavern. “You must begin now, or I will come for you!”
Aidan had no idea which direction Falon’s voice had come from. It seemed to bounce all over as if she were somehow everywhere all at once. Aidan didn’t want her to get angry, so he ran down the steep hill and into the entrance to the labyrinth.
“Right, pass two; left, pass one; left, pass one; right, pass two; left, pass one; left, pass one,” Aidan said to himself as he made his first turn to the right. It was a much different point of view inside the maze. Everything looked the same. The walls were all solid-looking marble with unusual patterns running through them, and each turn he skipped looked like it could have been the right way. But Aidan didn’t second-guess. He stuck to the pattern: right, pass two; left, pass one; left, pass one; right, pass two; left, pass one; left, pass one . . .
As he made his second left, however, something went wrong. He skipped one turn, but there was supposed to be a right turn right after the one he skipped! He looked ahead, far down the passage. There were several left turns, but the next right turn was a lot farther away than it should have been. Aidan sat down on the ground for a moment and placed his sword across his lap. He had to be careful—one wrong turn, and he was history.
“Well,” he told himself, “the pattern has been right so far . . . otherwise Falon would have eaten me already.” Eventually, Aidan decided that it was the King of Alleble who had given him the pattern, so he needed to follow it. Right, pass two; left, pass one; left, pass one; right, pass two; left, pass one; left, pass one . . .
He jogged up the hallway and took the right turn. No morti-wraith— that was definitely a good sign! He continued with the pattern, even though, two or three times, the distances between the turns seemed much different from what he remembered. One time, Aidan stopped to count turns. He thought he heard a noise behind him, so he spun around to look. His jaw dropped because the end he had just passed through was now closed—sealed off ! The maze had changed behind him.
I must be seeing things, Aidan thought. He shook his head comically and then continued on, following the pattern. There was still no sign of the mortiwraith. Finally, he came to a place where the pattern seemed to stop. Ahead of him was one left turn and a long, long straight passage.
This must be where the pattern ends, he thought, walking cautiously up to the left turn to see if he could find out where it led.
Holding his breath anxiously, he peered around the corner. He exhaled that stale breath in awe, for down that hall was a vault full of TREASURE!!
Not in all the museums he’d ever visited had Aidan seen such wealth.
Sparkles of red rubies, green emeralds, and blue sapphires blinked and winked at Aidan from enormous dark-wood chests. There were great piles of gold and silver coins. And barrels full of sharp iron battleaxes, huge powerful-looking bows, and quivers full of arrows. Wrought-iron helmets, chain-mail gauntlets, jewel-studded war horns, broad silver shields—every imaginable precious thing seemed to be there.
Aidan turned and looked up the long, straight passage. There weren’t any riches in that direction that he could see, but if the pattern repeated itself, he should continue that way to search for a right turn. Still, he looked back left . . . he couldn’t decide. Every time he made up his mind to go straight, he kept thinking of things he could do with the treasure. With all that gold and stuff, surely I could bribe the Paragor Knights into letting Gwenne go . . . I could maybe use that shield in battle. . . . Or, perhaps, one of the battleaxes would be nice. . . .
Finally, he chose, and though there was a quiet, nagging feeling tugging at him to go straight, the temptation of treasure was too much. Aidan turned left and walked toward the fortune.
As he walked toward the first chest, he thought, I guess this must have been the right way after all. Then Aidan picked up a shiny gold coin from a large chest.
The ground began to tremble, and there was a thunderous, angry roar.
“Greedy fool!!” shrieked Falon, her voice again echoing from all directions.
Aidan cowered in fear, grasping his sword and looking every which way for a sign of the creature. As he looked on, the ground shook even more violently. But then Aidan noticed something: The walls of the labyrinth were changing!
The solid stone seemed to soften, and the unusual marble pattern in the walls became more regular, like interconnected squares or shingles. And right before his eyes, the huge twenty-foot walls began to lift from the cobblestone floor. They rose from the ground and began to move, twist, and bulge.
In one corner of a wall, the outline of something appeared, and something unfolded from the stone. Aidan stared and realized with dreadful certainty that it was a leg sticking out of the wall—a leg ending with a four-toed foot and razor-sharp talons.
In various other places along the other twisting walls, other legs extended. Then something locked in Aidan’s brain. He was beyond the ability to think or move. He just watched as all the walls of the labyrinth uncoiled into a monstrous, snakelike body with innumerable pairs of clawed legs. From the middle of the spiraling body arose an enormous round head, with creased ears folding backward and mingling with tufts of dark purple fur. Its eyes were moon yellow split by black, fanglike reptilian pupils. She stared down at Aidan in ravenous hunger. Her jaws opened, dribbling poisonous saliva and revealing row upon row of dagger-like teeth.
“Ssssso! You made a wrong turn, hmmm?” Falon laughed menacingly as she reared back to a great height, ready to strike.
Finally, the thought crystallized in Aidan’s fear-struck mind. The mortiwraith wasn’t in the labyrinth . . . the mortiwraith was the labyrinth!
