4. THE LABYRINTH
"So," said Greg, "how does this place work anyway?"
The ghost-woman rippled.
The two of them had been wandering through the bleak stone maze for what felt like hours. Greg's feet were sore. His back was sore. His arms were sore, because he was lugging that stupid obsidian sword again. Weird how something so awesome could become so tiresome when you had to carry it around.
And - he had to admit - the Labyrinth was not a terribly exciting place. All the dark corridors looked pretty much the same. They were dark. They were cold. They were long. Very, very long. And the ghost-woman was not terribly good company. All she did was ripple, as though a gust of wind had disturbed her smoky form.
"This place is really big, hey," Greg observed.
The ghost-woman glided around another corner. Greg scampered after her.
"Hey," a voice hissed.
Greg whirled around. "Kithra!" he roared, and the obsidian sword sprang to life, ready to hew. He found himself staring directly at Dalile's terrified face.
"It's me!" she gasped. "Don't kill me!"
"Whew!" Greg lowered his sword. "Boy, Dalile, am I glad to see you."
"Look out!" she said urgently. Greg turned just as the ghost-woman vanished around a corner. He dashed after her. "Fuck," he said. "Fuckfuck."
It was fine. She was just gliding down another long corridor.
"Stay close to her," said Dalile desperately, "or we'll never get out of here!"
"Yeah, yeah," said Greg. "Okay, but where have you been, Dalile? You look terrible!"
Dalile glanced down at herself. She was caked in dirt, her hair was matted with filth, and her already scanty clothes had been reduced to mere tatters that didn't really conceal anything. "I've been in here for a long time," she said. "There are a lot of skeletons. Also demonic dogs with glistening red eyes that breathe fire. And," she paused, "monsters composed entirely of tentacles."
"Jeez," said Greg. "What about the Walker in the Dark, though? Did the Duke give you a job or something?"
"Um, no," she said. "I passed through the portal and was trapped in the maze. I thought perhaps I would die in here. Have you seen Natalia or Ragak?"
"Nope."
She sighed. "It's as I feared. The maze has separated us. They will almost certainly perish, alone and afraid, in this limitless hell."
Greg wiped his forehead.
"Phew," he said. "That's heavy, man. That's real heavy."
"How did you procure the Guide?" said Dalile.
"Well." Greg thought about it for a moment. "Basically, I killed a monster and went through a portal, and then I met the Duke of Filth and he told me to go find another guy, Corvel the Burnt, and if I find that guy the Duke will give me the Princess Kithra, and I'll have completed my Quest, I guess, and then I'll feel like a real hero. I'm hoping. And then maybe I can get home. So I'm supposed to go to the Blighted Forest now."
Dalile frowned.
"I've heard of the Blighted Forest," she said. "It is a dark place, home to cannibalistic tribals that practice dark rituals. We will have to be careful."
"Oh, you want to come with?" said Greg. "Cool."
Dalile shrugged. "It's the best chance I have to enter the Court of Filth and find Gwendla, the object of my quest."
"I hear ya," said Greg. "Let's do it."
*
According to Dalile, the Labyrinth was not a fixed maze, but a constantly shifting network of ethereal walls. Every step you took in the Labyrinth reconfigured its shape, forming the corridors into symbols of arcane magick. Legend said that, if you knew the patterns, you could reconfigure the Labyrinth into any shape you desired, and with its power change the fundamental forms of the Universe. Unfortunately, its bizarre nature was beyond the comprehension of any power of Hell or the Eighty-Nine Worlds.
"Only the Guides know how to work the Labyrinth," said Dalile, "and they will only use it to create portals."
"Bummer," said Greg.
It was hard to tell how much time had passed in the Labyrinth. Time seem to shift and change just like the dark stone walls. But, at last, a passage opened into a larger room, the walls overgrown with thick vines. In its centre sat a portal that cast an eerie light on the walls.
The Guide floated up into the air, rippled violently, and then disappeared with a faint pop.
"I guess this the the Blighted Forest," said Greg.
He took a deep breath.
"So far," he said, "going through portals has been a bit of a mixed bag for me."
"I, too, am apprehensive," said Dalile grimly. "But we have no choice."
She raised her sword and charged into the portal. Greg stepped after her.
There was hardly even a sensation of movement, only the abrupt awareness of being in a totally different place. They were standing on a stone pavilion, its columns crumbling and overgrown. It was surrounded by the forest - a dark mass of trees that blocked out the sky and consumed the horizon.
"Phew," said Greg, sniffing. "Hell of a bad smell here."
"The Blighted Forest once had a different name, I've heard, and was a place of transcendent beauty," said Dalile in a low voice. "But then a Curse came upon it - the Curse of a creature from the deepest pits. I have heard it called the Blighted Prince."
"Right-o," said Greg. "Well, no need to worry about that guy. Let's just look for Corvel the Burnt."
Greg looked around for a minute.
