Heart of the Labyrinth

He was standing inside a massive dome that had been hollowed out of the bedrock, large enough that King Minos' palace could almost have sat inside it. Perhaps this had been a natural cavern - it was hard to imagine even an artisan as skilled as Daedalus being able to create a cavity this large, even with a whole army of workers using hand tools. The uneven ceiling must have been a hundred feet above his head, and the dome's width might be twice that.

At its apex, shafts of golden sunlight spilled through, emerging from a cluster of holes that had been carved out of the rock. They were being bounced by mirrors, scattering the beams to create a more natural and less focused glow, almost like he was standing on the surface once more. After so long in these tunnels, he had almost forgotten the feeling of its warmth on his skin.

Below, occupying the center of the cavern, was a cluster of trees. There were cypresses rising towards the ceiling on gnarled, twisted trunks, the vibrant pink of their blossoms contrasting with the surrounding greens. He could see a chestnut, and even a fig tree, its branches bearing fresh fruit. They were growing on a mound of soil that lifted them off the stone floor like a hill, covered over with a carpet of lush grass and beautiful wildflowers that caught the sun with their rich reds and blues. Poppies, chamomile, thyme - it was like standing in a summer meadow.

There was a rustling in a shrub nearby, and he raised his shield, aiming his spear at the source of the sound. A moment later, a little cotton-tailed rabbit came hopping into view. It dropped the daisy that it was chewing, then sped off into the trees.

Dumbfounded, he lowered his weapon, taking another look at the verdant scenery before him. How had this been achieved? Had they poured loose soil down through the shafts that had later housed the mirrors? How had they dug so deep through solid rock? These trees were mature - they must have been growing here for the fifteen years that the labyrinth had existed. Had they released these rabbits down here, and had they been breeding and surviving this entire time?

He made his way up the hill and stopped beneath a fig tree, plucking a ripe fruit from a low-hanging branch. Its taste invigorated him as he took a juicy bite, driving away the memory of the dry, salty fish. Perhaps he should camp here - try to catch a rabbit to cook up? It would help keep up his strength and let his rations go a little further. Perhaps he could even smoke some meat to take with him? He had no idea when another opportunity like this might present itself.

Again, he was reminded of how dangerous the labyrinth could be. The woman he had stumbled across had been lost in the dark tunnels, likely succumbing to hunger only a few hours' walk from fruiting trees and fat rabbits. He would have to keep his wits about him.

***

It had not been difficult to catch a rabbit, and using a few fallen branches, he built a fire to cook the animal. Instead of using his torch, he had elected to use his flint, as a Promethean flame could not be put out once lit. He skinned and gutted the rabbit, then impaled it on a branch, roasting it over the crackling flames. When it was done, he ate the meat right off the bone along with a few ripe figs - there was even thyme and rosemary for seasoning. It was almost as though these plants had been chosen purposefully. There was no way that their seeds could have ended up down here on their own.

With no way to deliver food to the labyrinth's monstrous inhabitant - at least that he knew of - was this how it had survived for so long? When Daedalus had spoken of the amenities that he had incorporated into the maze's design, this wasn't what Leandros had imagined. It was Minos' mercy that had spared the beast at birth, then they had built this labyrinth to house it, which was turning out to be more of a habitat than a prison. Why? What could have driven the king to go to such lengths to preserve the life of a monster?

Once he had eaten his fill and he'd smoked a few strips of meat for later, he set off again. As loathe as he was to leave the warm sunlight and green grass behind, he had to keep going. There wasn't just the threat of the creature. If he lingered in the labyrinth for too long without ringing that bell, Minos might assume that he had died, and the gate would forever remain closed.

The soil and moss transitioned to bare stone once again, and he was forced to rely on his torch, the sunlight slowly fading as he fought the urge to turn around.

***

Leandros came upon another of the majestic halls, this one sporting a different architectural style that contrasted with the domestic appearance of the last. The white marble pillars that held up the arched ceiling thirty feet above his head had been carved into the shapes of the Gods, the massive statues towering over him. This was clearly the work of a master stonemason. Where a structure built on the surface would have had decorative flairs like an entablature that ran around the building just beneath the roof, and a tympanum - a triangular relief above the entrance - these features had all been moved inside. There was scarcely an inch of space that wasn't adorned with intricate reliefs depicting Gods and worship, even the mosaic on the tiles beneath his sandals portraying various deities from the Pantheon. From high on the walls, great metal faces with burning eyes peered down at him, Leandros quickly realizing that they were a form of brazier. Someone had hammered the faces of the Gods from bronze, like giant ritual masks, then had ignited Promethean flames behind them that would burn in perpetuity. It made for quite the effect.

He walked deeper inside the impressive edifice, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls, his neck on a swivel as he took in his strange surroundings. Was this some kind of temple? A place of worship buried deep, deep inside the labyrinth? Why would a feral beast have need of such a thing? His attention was drawn to an altar at the far end of the room - a raised pedestal that sat beneath an impressive statue. It was Zeus, father of the Gods, and his own distant relative. There was something lying upon it, draped in what looked like a cloak of white silk. As he neared, he saw that flowers had been scattered nearby, covering the pedestal and the short steps that led up to it. Some had rotted to almost nothing, while others were fresher, likely no more than a few days old. The cloak was covering a body, its shape clearly visible beneath the fine fabric. Someone had used this place as a tomb.

Leandros mounted the steps, crushing a wilted poppy underfoot, then used the tip of his spear to lift the fabric from the figure's face. It was another shriveled husk - dead for years. Who had put it to rest here, and why? The fresh flowers implied that someone other than the beast was still alive down here.

He turned, his eyes wandering suspiciously between the many shadowy doors that led out of the temple. It wasn't impossible that some of the assassins or the people thrown in here by Minos might have survived. There was food down here, water, and even shelter. In such a large maze, it might be possible to avoid crossing paths with the creature entirely. He had made it this far, so it was logical to assume that others could have.

The mysteries were stacking up, and it was becoming clear that Minos and Daedalus had not told him all that they knew.

CHAPTER 2: ALONE NO LONGER

After eating some of his rabbit meat and sleeping for the night, Leandros awoke on the third day, proceeding deeper into the maze. He was running out of time. While his rations could now be replenished, Daedalus might not wait more than a few days longer before declaring him dead.

The sound of trickling water soon drew him to another stream, this one flowing from a round opening barely the size of his head that was raised off the tunnel floor. It splashed down into a shallow channel that ran along the length of the passage, Leandros electing to follow it, seeing sunlight bleeding into the tunnel ahead. It ran for a considerable distance, then cascaded down a short staircase that led to a lower level. He stepped down into another hollowed-out cavern filled with grass, the stream feeding into a large pond that was overgrown with blooming water lilies, the croaking of frogs reaching his ears. Atop the hill beneath the apex of the dome was a monopteros - an open structure with a domed roof that was held up by a circle of stout pillars. It was made of white stone, shining brilliantly in the sunlight that flooded in through the shafts above it.

This was a garden - one that he might have expected to find on a palace's grounds. A fluttering movement caught his eye, and he glanced up to see colorful butterflies flitting through the beams of golden light.

"What is this?" he muttered to himself, walking across the grass to get a closer look. As he inspected the structure, the words of Daedalus echoed in his mind.

"It was our intention that the captive would be able to explore for years and never become restless - that they would be able to live a life approaching that of a surface dweller."

He had called it a gilded cage, and that description was becoming more accurate the deeper Leandros ventured. Someone had cared enough for this creature to go to incredible lengths to make it comfortable. Who was its mother, and what sway did she hold over Minos? Could a violent beast even appreciate such things?

One of these caverns would be an ideal place to lure the creature. It would give him the visibility and the space that he needed to maneuver. Fighting it in the dark, cramped tunnels was not an attractive prospect. He was sure that, with an appropriate ambush, he could bring the beast down. But how to do that? Maybe if he encountered it in the labyrinth, he could follow the chalk marks back to one of these rooms, leading it by its supposedly sensitive nose.

There was another passage on the far side with a stream that was feeding into the pond, so he followed it, careful to mark the wall with chalk as he went. Gods willing, those that he had left behind him had not been washed away. Soil gave way to stone, and light to darkness, Leandros raising his torch as the flame reflected off the damp walls.

It seemed that the buildings and caverns were as islands in an ocean, separated by these dank warrens. Did the creature have a way to navigate, or did it just wander aimlessly?

As he turned a corner at a junction, pausing to mark his way, he heard a sound. He froze, standing as still as a statue, worried that even the rustling of his cloak or the clattering of his armor might overpower the faint noise. It wasn't the trickling of water - it sounded like footsteps echoing from far away. Straining his ears, he heard it again, a little louder this time. Something heavy was coming his way down one of the passages ahead of him.

His first instinct was to put out his torch, but it was Promethean flame - he had no way to smother it. The damned thing would lead it right to him. The only option was to toss it aside lest it reveal his position, but if he did so, he would be left completely blind in this darkness. Instead, he turned back, trying to move as quickly as he could without making too much noise. He followed his chalk markings, leading him back towards the cavern with the pond, hoping that the beast's nose would lead it to him. It was said to be stronger than any mortal man, so challenging it openly would be unwise, but he might have a chance if he could maneuver around it and find an opening with his spear.

It was getting closer - he could hear its footsteps, like a hammer pounding against stone.

The sound of water drew his attention, and he followed it to the stream that he had passed on his way in, a new plan forming. He slung off his cloak, then knelt with it in his hands, pausing to listen for the heavy footfalls again. They were joined by a loud huffing, still distant, but unmistakably that of an animal. It was close - too close for him to make it back to the cavern in time.

Fighting off the adrenaline that was starting to make his hands unsteady, he shoved his wool cloak into the stream, the fabric starting to soak through as it stemmed the flow. When it was completely impregnated with water, several times its original weight now, he wrapped the sopping garment around his torch. He was plunged into darkness, his eyes taking a moment to adjust. The flame was still burning, but with any luck, the creature would pass before it ignited his cloak.

He made it to another four-way crossroads, throwing himself behind a corner, cradling the dripping cloak like a swaddled baby as he slowly leaned out to get a look behind him. It was so damned dark that he could barely have seen his own hand if he had held it in front of his face.

His world was now one of sound, the loud, bestial huffing drawing ever closer as footfalls like the banging of war drums resonated down the corridor. Just as a hound scented its prey, it was sniffing him out, hunting him...

What would he do if it discovered him? He couldn't fight it in this darkness. He would have to throw open the cloak - try to face off against the thing in the narrow passage. Perhaps he could surprise it as it came around the corner and jab his spear into its throat?

Its footsteps shook the floor now, each thud resonating through his body like a thunderclap. He could hear it breathing, as deep and as powerful as that of a horse or a bull. Just how large was this thing? Daedalus had said that it had been strong enough to overpower a grown man at five years old...

A fear that he hadn't experienced since his first battle gripped him, freezing his heart in his chest. He wanted to inch further down the passage - to put more distance between himself and the beast - but the slightest sound might alert it to his presence. He didn't even dare to breathe.

There was a sudden clattering, like a pebble being tossed against stone, echoing down the tunnel from another junction. The footsteps accelerated, the huffing becoming the snorting of an angry bull, the ground shaking as the beast raced down the passageway towards him. A black mass that almost filled the tunnel emerged only a few paces away from him, cloven hooves almost as large as his shield skidding on the wet stone as it changed direction, putting its back to him. In the darkness, he could barely make out anything but hunched shoulders covered in fur and a pair of pointed horns that almost scraped the ceiling. It wasn't a monster - it was a force of nature. He could feel its sheer mass and gauge its incredible strength just by the way that it took corners.

It barreled down the tunnel opposite him, moving far too quickly for something of that size, heading in the direction of the sound. He could hear clanking metal, too, as though it was wearing armor or chains. Leandros didn't even exhale the breath that he had been holding until it turned another corner, and the sound of its thudding footfalls grew faint.

He unwrapped his torch and was relieved to see that it had not set his cloak alight - the waterlogged fabric was only singed. How he would get the damned thing dry now, he didn't know, but that stream might just have saved his life. Leandros readied his spear, drumming up the courage to pursue the creature. It was fortunate that they had crossed paths so soon, and he might not get another chance like this.

He stepped forward, then froze, feeling the blade of a knife pressing into his throat.

"Quiet," a voice behind him hissed. "The beast will not be distracted for long. Do exactly as I say if you want to live."

Leandros could do little more than nod his head slowly, the stranger removing the dagger. He turned around to see a man standing before him, his gaunt face lit by the wavering torchlight. He had an unkempt beard, a pair of sunken, dark eyes peering back at Leandros intently. He wasn't wearing armor, clad instead in simple garments of cloth and leather that had seen better days, his feet completely bare. He had a satchel slung over his shoulder, and there was a belt around his waist made from frayed rope, laden with various leather pouches and tools. There was a spear tied across his back, but he had no other weapons save for the little dagger, and no shield.

"Follow me, and take those off," he said with a gesture to Leandros' sandals.

"What?" Leandros asked, looking back at him in confusion. "Why? Who are you? What are you doing down here?"

"It'll hear them," he replied, turning to walk back down the passage. Leandros did as he asked, tying his footwear to his belt, then hurried after the stranger. The stone was freezing beneath his bare feet, but the loud slap of his sandals no longer echoed off the walls.

"Are you going to tell me what in Hades is going on here?" Leandros demanded, trying to keep his voice low despite his frustration. "The king told me that everyone who had been sent into the labyrinth had perished. I've seen nothing but corpses until now."

"That fool of a king has no eyes down here," the man replied. "He would think that."

"Watch your tongue," Leandros replied. "Such talk could get you-"

"Get me what?" the stranger scoffed, turning to look back at him. "Thrown into the labyrinth for treason, maybe?"

"Fair point," Leandros grumbled. "Who are you?"

"My name is Olysseus," he replied, pausing for a moment to check one of the walls before turning another corner. "Minos sent me down here to slay that thing. I think two months have passed - I stopped counting some weeks ago."

"You've been surviving down here for two months?" Leandros asked in disbelief.

"This place is not what we were told," the man replied, leading him along another nondescript hallway. He moved with purpose, as though he knew exactly where he was going. "I don't know how much you've seen, but finding food and water is not difficult if you know where to look. Avoiding the auroch is the difficult part."

"You've seen it before? What is it?"

"An abomination," he replied, his voice dripping with disgust. "I've laid eyes on the thing in sunlight - it's like nothing I've ever seen. It's part man, part animal, perhaps the product of some vile union or the curse of a vengeful God - I can't say. It's big, strong, and fast. It knows this maze, and its senses are keen. Don't assume it to be as dull as the animal that it resembles. It's clever, and it learns quickly. It doesn't fall for the same trick twice."

Once again, he stopped by a junction, seeming to briefly check a nearby wall before continuing. Leandros saw something catch his torchlight as he passed - a series of scratches in the stone. They would be hard to notice if one wasn't looking for them and easy to dismiss as just natural wear, but Olysseus was clearly using them to navigate. Perhaps he was using them in the same way that Leandros had been employing his chalk.

He followed his new companion in silence for a while, the man leading him through many twists and turns before they finally arrived at another of the underground buildings. Bare stone transitioned to tiled floors and support pillars, the glow of burning braziers greeting them. It was never any less jarring to step out of a damp underground passage to find oneself in what could be a home in a wealthy city-state. Olysseus seemed to know the layout, making his way through a couple of side doors and into a secluded chamber that might have been a pantry or a storage room under normal circumstances.

He knelt, hooking his fingers beneath a loose floor tile, the ceramic scraping as he moved it aside to reveal a shallow hole about a foot wide. He pulled out some satchels and a few packages wrapped in cloth, along with some kind of brass lantern.