《Iris and the Minotaur》


 The Labyrinth

    The labyrinth was carved into a cul-de-sac, one road removed from the thoroughfare. Iris looked up at it, glaring.


    The gesture was beneath her, but it had been a long journey without a wink of sleep. She deserved to give this bloody place a glare. And maybe if she glared hard enough she¡¯d see past those walls and the whole thing would just melt away. Naturally that didn¡¯t work.


    ¡°Alright. Plan B it is.¡± She was a warrior, in the manner of her time and place, and this wouldn¡¯t be the first time she¡¯d pushed herself. She was off to a bad start though, she¡¯d taken too long staring. You should never stare too long at something like the labyrinth, or it starts to feel like it¡¯s staring back.


    ¡°Just a simple job.¡± She told herself. ¡°In and out before anyone even knows I¡¯m here.¡±


    There was a problem with the plumbing or something. Something lodged in the works, making that terrible racket that woke her up halfway across the country. She found a foothold and bent her focus on the gritty feel of the bricks.


    The walls of the labyrinth were tall - scaling them demanded courage and resilience present only in great mountaineers and small insects. It wasn¡¯t long before she felt the bite in her arms and legs. Her nails gave out first. Once they split, latching onto the smaller handholds was agony. Her arms felt like they¡¯d be next. Still she went on climbing. She was spitting blood by then - and every inch she won made her head spin. When she finally found the edge of the balcony she could have wept.


    But this last step was the hardest and though she tried to force herself over she found she was far too tired, and yet she found herself hating the balcony for being so low. If only it just kept getting higher and higher forever. She could handle that, she was a good climber, and who needed limbs anyway? Now though if she pulled herself over she would be inside, and things would be different in there.


    She hung there and let herself look back over the town - wondering if this was how great heroes felt. A cloud floated under her feet.


    The town was quite red under the sunset, and beautiful in the way familiar places are. Soon there would be stars - so many stars that they would fill the sky and she could sway there in the wind gazing up at them. Maybe some would fall and maybe she would too. If they did she would ask for wings - large strong wings to carry her far away from this place.


    She knew that was stupid. Stars didn¡¯t grant wishes any more than people did - and anyway growing wings that large that quickly would use up so much energy that she would probably starve to death.


    Screw it. There was no sense waiting here till she starved to death for real. With a groan that used up the last of her strength she levered herself over the railing and into the room beyond where she lay panting.


    The room looked safe, comfortable even. There was a plush carpet, desk lamp, ensuite bathroom - but they were all far too small for her. Still the room was big, and the little furniture was packed into the corner. You could never trust rooms like that - never knew what might be hiding in the shadows.


    Iris did her checks and set up her tripwires, then she collapsed - listless with exhaustion - onto the floor. She woke at dawn to force her own cooking down her throat, realising too late that it was probably a bad idea to eat meat that had been out in the open all night. She glared at her roiling stomach, daring it to complain.


    It became clear quickly that the room was a dead end, the only exit was a locked door sized for a young child and the corridors beyond were of that size as well. At that point the nausea kicked in, and she stumbled back to bed.


    Her body knew better than to defy her, so she kept her breakfast, but her aching stomach made her dream. It was the same wretched nightmare that had plagued her for months. She saw pits and choking tunnels that closing in around you, bridges like tightrope spanning chasms at mad angles - the rivers beneath churning like fire. Every so often in the depths of sleep she would hear a knock-knock-knock, as if on a wooden door, and the labyrinth in her dreams would echo and shake.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    When she woke up the next morning her door was open, just widely enough for a head to fit through.


    Which was how she must have left it last night right? Silly her. She locked it tight this time.


    The days passed. When the sun shone she tried to clamber about the walls in search of another entrance, but it rained more often than not, and when it rained all she could do was stare at the grey blanket of clouds below, letting the memories fester. It had been some time since she¡¯d been here, and that visit had ended sooner than planned.


    The rain became a daily pain. When she couldn¡¯t take it anymore she covered the window with a bolt of cloth. That left her in the dark with just her torches.


    Where to go from here? After a few days like this she was willing to try anything, and amongst her equipment was a diary she¡¯d filed out last time. Surely there must be a nugget of useful information there somewhere.


    ¡°Past me was such a crybaby,¡± She said to herself. ¡°Always whining about ghosts and feeling watched.¡± So far it was all just meaningless garbage like that. She was about to give up when she found a line crammed into a footnote.


    ¡°PS: Don¡¯t forget to leave out milk for Asterion!¡±


    Past-her had thought this dreadfully important, which just irritated the Iris of the present. She didn¡¯t have much milk and wasn¡¯t in the mood for charity. Besides, if this Asterion couldn¡¯t get his own milk then what was the point of him anyway?


    Still, out of lack of other options, she filled a small bowl and put it near her bedside. It was still there the next morning.


    That confirmed it, didn¡¯t it? This was just one of her old self¡¯s idle fancies.


    But then again, perhaps Asterion was intimidated by the tripwires around her bed? Feeling silly, she tried again - and the bowl by the door was licked clean by morning.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect that to work.¡±


    It meant things could get through the locked door. Asterion was a friend apparently, and her only hope. but the thought was unnerving all the same. She resolved to stay awake tonight just in case.


    God the noises this place made at night. It turned in its sleep and snored and stretched with the sounds of grinding stone and timbers snapping into place. She keenly felt the absence of a blanket, even a cloth shield would be something. Still she never dreamed of taking the cloth that covered the window - for who knew what strange moons were glaring down right now, and with what fell colours of light.


    Her past self had been a coward, but hearing this she understood. This place had teeth - and she wondered how on earth she was to fight a beast when she was already in its belly.


    It was then that she noticed the creature feeding by the door.


    Was this Asterion? He barely came up to her knee.


    He had a man half that was round with stubby arms and legs, while the bull half was black with silver horns. The little thing was well dressed - wearing a cow onesie, a backpack full of half put-together scrap and even some horn-ribbons, though his clothes were stained with ink. Iris was astounded that such a little thing could drink so much. He was so small, he had to hold the bowl with both hands and yet the contents were almost gone.


    Asterion squeaked when he saw her looking, and tried for a quick getaway by yanking a cord on his backpack - but it just spewed out a cloud of smoke and sparks before the straps tore and it flew out without him. Iris found herself laughing, at which Asterion turned to face her, and gave her the old stink eye.


    ¡°So fierce,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t be that way - it was terribly rude of me to laugh I''m sorry. Come have some dinner with me, you can¡¯t live off milk alone can you?¡±


    He didn¡¯t agree that night, but the next night he tried a nibble. She kept working at it and within a few nights they were fast friends. By the end he spent most of the day with her and even brought her clockwork gifts - they would always fall apart, but that was part of the fun.


    But she still had a job to do, so one day while she was petting his horns she told him, ¡°You¡¯re small enough to get outside this room aren¡¯t you Asterion? You mind helping me out?¡±


    The little minotaur pondered on this while she scratched between the horns. She was sure he had an answer, and was taking his time so she would keep scratching. Finally he got up and hobbled away out of sight.


    That night a bang shook Iris from sleep. Her bed was strewn with bits of wall and door and Asterion stood where the door had been, giving her a thumbs up. The plaster was still smoking.


    The exit to the room was wide enough to fit through now, so through it she went.

 Ink-stained Maiden

    The walk was long, and she soon went from feeling too big to feeling too small. Here the whitewashed walls loomed in the distance with the daunting permanence of the sky, and the roof was masked behind clouds of plaster dust. Heaps of the stuff covered the ground, crunching underfoot like snow or perhaps sand - though the closest things to dunes were the vast stone display slabs. Iris hated walking on sand, and it made such a racket that anything dangerous could surely hear them a mile away.


    Asterion tugged at her sleeve, she tried to brush him off. ¡°You can have headpats later Asterion.¡± She¡¯d seen a door on the opposite wall, maybe so much as half an hour¡¯s walk away. The prospect was putting her in a foul mood.


    They crunched on and he kept tugging at her. Finally she let him loop her back around to a particular patch of ground.


    ¡°Are we done?¡± She walked on, pulling him along with her. To her surprise she walked without making a sound. ¡°This ground is soft.¡±


    He nodded and brushed the dirt aside. There was red carpet underneath.


    ¡°Finally a road!¡± Iris smiled. ¡°You deserve a reward for this. I''ll make something nice when we set up camp.¡¯


    The road wasn¡¯t much help. It looped leisurely around all the slabs before reaching the door - and when they finally got through the door they found another identical room - just round this time.


    On and on it went. It felt like an insidious new kind of dead end, because there was always a door - sometimes too many to choose from - close enough to make Iris think, ¡°maybe if I go through this one i¡¯ll finally be out.¡±


    Sometimes there were signposts, but the writing had invariably been worn away by the sand. They even found a map, but it led only to desiccated ruins. Dead trees, worn and calcified, stretched out their branches to the empty slabs as if in prayer. With a bit of sleuthing they found a lake marked as the breadbasket of the tourism industry. Indeed there were a few half-eaten fish still swimming in it, ribs bare with the guts hanging out. Iris tore off a few chunks and threw them back, where they thrashed around before diving out of sight.


    They cooked it by burning what was left of the fisherman¡¯s hut. The flame was a meagre thing, barely enough to char the meat. Asterion didn¡¯t have any. That wasn¡¯t a surprise, he had a cow¡¯s tongue after all, but it depressed Iris to sit there eating while Asterion¡¯s stomach growled.


    ¡°One day we¡¯ll have a real campfire.¡± She promised him. ¡°With marshmallows. Have you ever seen a marshmallow Asterion?¡±


    He hadn¡¯t, and his eyes were wide as she described them to him. He shook his head fiercely though when she talked about toasting them. That was such a waste and yet - somewhat alluring? He spent the rest of dinner locked in an internal debate - if he ever found a marshmallow, he wanted to be sure to eat it right.


    ¡°The poor thing is unreasonably easy to distract.¡± Iris thought to herself, and then she got to wondering if there was any way out of this place, and what would become of them if there wasn¡¯t. As the flames burned low Iris tossed the map in too. The useless thing didn¡¯t even burn right.


    That was good - maybe. The fire was an obvious signal for anything big and hungry that might be prowling around, though at this point she was almost eager for a fight. All she could do now was kick at the sand and wonder what she was even doing wrong here.


    ¡°They¡¯re scared of us.¡± She winked at Asterion. ¡°Iris the great and her wild little horror. Don¡¯t pout at me, I''ve heard you snore. They must think I have an army of dragons with me.¡±


    She finished quickly, but Asterion had a hard time getting up again. Iris¡¯s foul mood made her want to snap at him to get up already - but instead she softened. She remembered how awful it was being dragged around shopping malls when she was young.


    Iris picked him up and let him ride on her shoulders. ¡°At least I can be useful to you little one.¡±


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    They walked through wind and shine, till finally Iris spotted something hazy in the distance. At this point anything other than whitewash and stone slabs and dead things would have been a welcome sight - but this was more than that. This looked like a person, a young girl.


    ¡°Might be a mirage.¡± She said, but Asterion didn¡¯t care. He ran over waving widely, but the woman was so absorbed in her task that she didn¡¯t notice.


    She knelt in the middle of one of the great slavs, dusting a copper cup. The plaque was labelled ¡®music awards - plaque 6¡¯.


    ¡°Why are you cleaning that?¡±


    The girl turned, and Asterion took a startled step backwards. She was startlingly skinny and so light a breeze would blow her away. When she opened her mouth to talk she coughed out ink dust.


    ¡°Water.¡± She begged. If she was trying to make puppy dog eyes she failed, her eyes were so dry they¡¯d shrivelled up in her sockets.


    Asterion approached more gently now, waterskin ready. The fool! Iris yanked him back and put herself in front.


    ¡°What is your name?¡± Iris asked.


    ¡°Iris of course.¡± Said the shade.


    ¡°Liar.¡± Said Iris. ¡°We will trade like civilised people - our water for your knowledge. Where is the way out?¡±


    ¡°Out? Out is where the Seer¡¯s are. Their love is too much for me, i don¡¯t go there.¡± She said, but then as Iris put the skin away. ¡°But there are others of my kind who do! Find one and they will surely take you.¡±


    Iris shrugged and tossed her the water. ¡°Drink up.¡±


    She poured it all onto the cup. Then she kept scrubbing. All that water puddled up on the floor, though to her credit it did get the dirt off.


    She raised the cup up, giggled and looked back to Iris with so much pride in those shrunken eyes. Iris slapped the cup out of her hands and kicked it away.


    ¡°That may as well have been a participation award.¡± She said, disgusted.


    The creature raced after the cup but it was already too late. Iris had dented it, and the metal couldn¡¯t be pushed back into place. The creature wailed.


    ¡°I cannot be held responsible for that.¡± Said Iris. ¡°If it was a trophy worth having it wouldn''t be such poor quality.¡±


    It lunged at her then, teeth splayed out, dry hair cracking and whipping in the wind, but it never reached her. Asterion charged, and his horns tore a weeping gash through the monster¡¯s leg. What life she had left bled out quick, and she died crying.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Iris told Asterion, though she looked at the ink stains on his horns with worry now. She couldn;t get attached to him, he was a monster too - just not big enough to eat her yet.


    The minotaur didn¡¯t respond immediately - he just stared morosely at the remains - so Iris kept talking.


    ¡°Isn''t it crazy. I spent all my time studying but never got any academic prizes worth talking about. I was told off for playing music in the later years - but I probably could''ve made this slab a lot fuller. Funny right?¡±


    Asterion didn''t know what she was talking about. He knew that losing all the water had upset her though, so he tried his best to palm the puddle back into the waterskin.


    ¡°We''ll have to find more of her kind. I''ve got a good feeling about this Asterion.¡±


    That night there was something in the air. Asterion had been hyper all evening and though Iris had been telling him to calm down, she was feeling it too. When they heard the sound of flutes and the stamping of hundreds of feet they knew it wasn¡¯t just wishful thinking. Some great parade was approaching.


    Iris pulled the minotaur behind a smaller display podium as they passed. What a parade it was! And what a departure from the mundanity of this place! There were bells to go with the flutes, plus lantern bearers and dancers beyond count all twirling like fallen leaves. They were dressed for ritual, and most promising of all, their robes were stained with ink.


    ¡°Well this is splendid. They¡¯ll take us where we need and we won¡¯t even have to pay them. You can fit right in being a monster. I''ll need a disguise though, assuming this whole thing isn¡¯t to honour my arrival.¡± She took in Asterion¡¯s baffled expression and laughed. ¡°Yes, far too much to hope for.¡±


    She wrapped most of her face in cloth and streaked ink across her forehead. It would do.


    Her addition caused disturbance at first - to her horror she saw everyone around her was singing.


    Bloody music - she thought she was through with all that. She used to enjoy the violin - the notes told her exactly what to do and she just had to put in effort after effort until it worked, she liked that kind of thing - but she and her instruments were bitter exes now. Singing had been the worst of all. She couldn¡¯t count how often she thought she¡¯d nailed an improv only to see her friends giggling to each other.


    She did her best, and asked Asterion to do the same, but he just stared at her like she asked him to fly. He took eagerly to the bell though, and eventually the ripples they¡¯d made faded away.


    She was quite glad to have company to be honest, even if the company was strange. She could see Asterion agreed. The two lost themselves in the song and dance and before they knew it they came to smaller places where the air was cool, leaving the trophy wastes behind them.