The Dragon of Trelian (13 page)

She started walking again, quickly, her feet nearly silent on the soft path of dirt and hedge needles. The tall hedges blocked most of the sound from outside the maze. It was like a separate world, self-contained and indifferent to what went on beyond its borders. Lanterns hung from poles at long intervals, creating pools of light in the otherwise dark passages. Meg looked up. The moon was large in the sky tonight, nearly full, but even so its light seemed unable to penetrate deep into the maze. The moon was the symbol of the Hunter god, the dark consort of the bright Goddess, who ruled the day. Most people preferred to make their prayers to her, since the Hunter was more inclined to justice than to mercy. Still, Meg thought she would take whatever help she could.
Besides, I’m not asking for mercy.
She closed her eyes and sent a quick, silent prayer up to the moon.
Tonight, I’m a hunter, too. Please, if you can, help guide my steps so I can bring my sister safely home.

When the passage came to a fork, Meg hesitated only a second, then turned to the right. She dug a line in the ground with her foot, so she’d know which way she’d chosen if she circled back this way. She continued to walk quickly, searching for signs of her sister and straining to hear the sound of footsteps other than her own. Any time she had a choice of path, she chose without thinking, stopping only to make her mark upon the ground.

Suddenly another of those terrible screams tore through the darkness, close enough that the shock and force of it made her stumble into the hedge wall beside her. She sank to the ground, barely aware of the needles that scratched her arms and face, for the moment unable to move or even think coherently. Her mind couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than the one repeating thought that it was close, it was very close now; that thing, whatever it was, was very close and possibly getting closer and closer and closer and closer —

Meg dug her fingernails into her arm, using the pain to break herself out of her spiraling panic. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this afraid before in her life. Something about that sound was so . . .
wrong.
What kind of creature made a sound like that?

The silence that followed the last echoes of the scream was oppressive. The small sounds of her feet against the path as she forced herself to stand again seemed to ring out like the bells of noontime.
It can’t hear you,
Meg told herself angrily. But how did she know? Maybe it could. But she couldn’t cower in the dirt forever, regardless. She had to find Maurel. She made herself step forward. When nothing darted out of the darkness to kill her, she took another step. She kept going until she came to a T in the maze. Left or right? The task of choosing suddenly seemed beyond her. She looked down the left-hand passage, at another featureless green walkway. There was nothing to indicate that this path was better than any other. Sighing, she turned to the right. And there, at the far end of a lengthy green-walled passage, she saw a flash of red.

Afraid to call out, she nevertheless found her mobility again and raced down the long tunnel, arriving just in time to see another flash of color vanish around another corner up ahead. It had to be Maurel; no one else selected clothing of quite that startling a shade, and certainly no one else would be dashing through the maze right now other than the guards, whose uniforms were uniformly blue and gold and gray.

Meg lunged around the next turn and then the next, whereupon she emerged into a long straightaway that clearly did not contain her sister. She spun around, saw the narrow, backward-angled passage she had missed; and continued running. This wasn’t going to work, she realized; Maurel could easily outrun her and had the additional advantage of knowing where she was going. Meg lurched to a stop and struggled to quiet her gasping breath so she could listen. Several quick footsteps and then silence — Maurel must have stopped when Meg’s own footsteps ceased. There was no help for it; she was going to have to call out while her sister was still in earshot.

“Maurel!” More than a whisper, less than a shout. “Maurel, please! It’s Meg!”

“Meg!” Another quick series of running steps and then Maurel appeared, coming from the direction Meg had already been. She ran up and bounced to a stop, not the slightest bit out of breath. “Why didn’t you say it was you? I thought —” She stopped and stepped closer, lowering her voice even further. “I thought you were the monster. Did you hear it? Did you hear it screaming?”

Meg dropped to one knee and pulled her sister into a quick, relieved hug, then pushed her away again in irritation. “Of course I heard it. That’s why I came in here after you, you idiot. They were trying to take us all inside to safety, but Nan Vera said you ran away from her and she couldn’t find you.”

“Oh,” said Maurel. She half gasped in sudden understanding. “Is that why the guards are in here, too?”

“Yes, of course.” She took Maurel’s hand firmly in her own and stood up. “Now they’re probably wandering around lost, thanks to you.” Meg chose not to mention the additional guards who must have followed when she ran into the maze herself. She looked up and down the passage doubtfully. “I think I might be lost, myself. What were you thinking?”

Maurel starting walking, pulling Meg along. “You’re not lost. I’ll show you,” she said. She looked up at Meg, not seeming to even need to glance ahead to know which way to turn. “And I didn’t mean to run away from Nan Vera,” she said. “Well, at first I did, but that was just for fun. I was right behind her practically the whole time. But then we heard the monster, and I was so scared . . .” She looked away, all lightheartedness gone. “I jumped right into the hedges. I guess I thought maybe if I hid in there, it couldn’t find me. By the time I felt okay to come out, Nan Vera was gone. I didn’t even hear her calling me.”

She had stopped walking, still looking down and away. Meg reached over and touched her face, tracing one of the scratches the hedges must have made. “It’s all right to be scared, Maurel,” she said. “The sound of that thing screaming was the scariest thing I’ve ever heard. I’ll tell you a secret, if you promise not to tell anyone.”

Maurel looked up, hopeful. Her eyes were blurry with unshed tears. Meg whispered, “I was so scared, I fell down. Right into the hedges and down onto the ground. I bet I’ve got scratches just like yours. Maybe even worse.”

Sniffling, Maurel examined Meg’s face. She nodded soberly. “You ripped your dress, too. And it’s dirty.” She looked down at her own dress, which was in a similar state. “Mother’s going to be mad at us.”

Meg smiled. “I think Mother is just going to be glad to see us safely home. Now, come on. You said you knew how to get out of this crazy place.”

Maurel smiled back and quickened her pace, pulling harder on Meg’s arm. “The entrance is just around here,” she said, her normal bounciness back in her voice as well as her step. “Do you think the guards came back out already? I’d feel a little bad if they’re still walking around in there. They probably should have taken a copy of the map.”

Meg stared at her sister. “There’s a map? To the hedge maze?”

“Sure,” said Maurel, surprised. “Didn’t you know? It’s in the library. I’ll show you.” They turned the corner and there was the entrance, wide and welcoming and right where Maurel had said it would be. She chattered on, literally bouncing now, punctuating her words with little jumps along the path. “Of course, it’s more fun to find your own way, but still it’s probably good that —” She glanced up, her eyes growing huge and frightened as she froze, staring. Meg looked up to follow her sister’s gaze.

The monster was in the courtyard.

It was very large. It had four squat legs, thick with dark knotted muscle, but most of its bulk was its massive body hulking just inside the row of delicate thistle trees that lined the outer edge of the royal garden. The moon’s light seemed to slide right off it, leaving it cloaked in shadow and darkness, but what little detail Meg could see was far more than enough. Two thick horns, one larger than the other, stretched out and upward from either side of its wide head, each ending with an evil-looking hooked point. That head, thank the gods, was facing slightly away from them, but not so much that Meg couldn’t see the way its narrow eyes seemed to glow with a sickly red light. It moved with an eerie silence; nothing that enormous — and certainly nothing that could scream the way it did — should be able to move so quietly, but it didn’t make a sound as it slunk slowly among the trees. It twisted its head from side to side as though looking for something.
Looking for dinner?
Meg couldn’t help wondering. The thought made her want to cry and throw up at the same time.

Meg managed to pull her eyes away for a second to look longingly at the straight, inviting path that led from the maze entrance to the inner courtyard steps. Several guards stood grimly at the top of those steps. Too far away to help in time if the monster should turn and see them. It was much closer to the hedge maze than the castle.

As she watched, one of the guards turned slightly and noticed her. His eyes grew wide with surprise and then darted quickly toward the monster, as if to be sure she knew it was there. As if she could have missed it! She nearly rolled her eyes at him in exasperation. The guard — it was the same one who had spoken to her earlier, to convince her to go inside — stared at her helplessly. They both knew there was nothing he or the others could do.

Moving slowly and oh so silently, Meg pulled Maurel back against her and reached around with her free hand to cover her sister’s mouth. Maurel probably would have screamed by now if she were going to, but Meg did not care to take a chance at this particular moment in time. It hadn’t heard them talking as they approached, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hear them now without the hedge walls to muffle any sound they made. Meg swallowed and then, pulling her sister along with her, backed deeper into the maze until they reached a point beyond the monster’s line of sight.

Meg desperately wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go; the maze had only the one exit. She looked down at her sister; Maurel was staring up at her, terrified.
Expecting me to know what to do,
Meg realized.
And I have no idea.

Maurel was trembling. Meg sank to the ground and hugged her sister tight against her. And tried to think. There were only two choices, really. Wait here, hoping the monster didn’t see or smell or otherwise sense them and that eventually it would just go away, or be driven away, or be killed by a great horde of deadly royal soldiers and chopped into tiny, harmless pieces. Or try to leave the maze and get inside the castle without it seeing them.

She couldn’t really imagine trying to sneak out past that thing. She looked up at the hedge wall across from them. Too thick to push through; Maurel had managed to squeeze herself into the hedges before, but even she couldn’t get all the way in and then out the other side. Toward the middle the ancient branches were just too wide and strong. Maybe if they’d had a knife or something, but of course, they didn’t.

Another dreadful scream tore through the night, far worse than any of the others — it was so
close
! Meg and her sister both clamped their hands tight against their ears. The force of the sound was like a sword thrust deep inside Meg’s head; it hurt, it
hurt,
and it wasn’t until the dire echoes finally began to fade away that she realized both of them were screaming along with it. Maurel seemed to realize it at the same time. They snapped their mouths shut and stared, horrified, first at each other and then up over the edge of the hedges closest to the entrance as the now-ominous silence stretched out for several long, terrifying seconds. And then the monster’s hideous head swung slowly into view. Staring down at them with its impossible glowing red eyes.

For a moment none of them moved. Then Meg saw the creature’s chest expand with an intake of air and she had just enough time to shout, “Cover your ears!” to Maurel and slap her hands back over her own before another gut-wrenching wave of sound crashed over them. It was slightly better having been prepared, but not by much — especially since the latest scream was accompanied by a blast of the monster’s unspeakably foul breath. Meg didn’t want to imagine what it might have been eating. Staring up at its immense presence, she had a short, stupid moment of relief as she thought,
Well, at least it’s too big to fit through the maze entrance.
And then it smashed directly through the outer hedge wall, and suddenly Meg was staring at several long, red-tipped talons attached to one of the monster’s misshapen five-toed feet, which was now close enough for her to reach out and touch if she wanted to.

Maurel was moaning softly beside her. The monster was moving slowly, either because it saw no need to hurry or because that’s just how it moved. Meg prayed it was the latter. She groped for her sister’s hand, found it, held it tight, and whispered fiercely, “Get ready, Maurel. We have to run. We have to run right now.” Maurel’s moans didn’t change, but Meg just had to hope she had heard. Or at least that she’d be able to drag her sister along with her. She lunged to her feet, yanking Maurel up and launching them both past the creature’s front leg. Its head jerked back in surprise and then snapped forward — not slowly now, she noted with sick dismay — but Meg ran on, directly toward it, pulling Maurel beside her and then pushing her onward, ducking under the barely existent neck and out the other side before the creature could twist its head around. The hedges were now an impediment as it tried to turn to follow them. They ran out through the maze entrance and flew along the blessedly clear, wide path. And nearly collided with the palace guard who, it appeared, had been ready to attempt a rescue after all. Just a little too late.

Meg heard the hedges tearing behind them. She kept running, past the startled soldiers, pulling Maurel on relentlessly, up the inner courtyard steps and into the castle. She wasn’t once tempted to stop and look back.