Foxheart

Chapter Sixty-Two

Traversing the maze turned out to be the easiest part of the break in so far. The only problem Fox had was how nauseous he felt. With the magic growing more oppressive with every door they opened and ever hallway they traipsed down, the walls changed height and the world grew increasingly warped. Some doors were tiny, some giant and the walls were increasingly becoming bent out of shape. That wasn't the worse though. It was the discomfort the magic pressed on him with every correct turn. He felt his stomach twisting and his head aching. It dug into the back of his eyes, making his skin turn clammy and his fingers tingle unpleasantly. Even so, he pushed on. He kept going forward. Dupont relied on him to.

Fox was aware he wasn't the only one being punished. Bull too was stooping lower, her face sweating and strides had shortened. However Absolon didn't seem to notice. He remained sitting on Fox's head, whistling and singing in contentment.

The Spirit kept close, watching curiously as the maze tried its best to stop them from entering the dungeon successfully. As promised, he didn't say a word. He didn't warn them if they were going to go down the wrong or right route. He just watched.

Luckily there didn't seem to be anyone else roaming about the magic maze. No soldiers, no employees, no Wizards, nothing.

'If we get lost, how long until we're found?' Fox asked, his voice coming out breathless.

'This one does not know. Possibly hours to days. Who knows?'

That wasn't a comfort and Fox desperately hoped Lithgow hadn't screwed them over or slipped up when writing the directions. Being stuck in this maze longer than necessary would be just torture.

Abruptly, Bull stopped. She glanced at the door then at the paper before pulling down her googles.

'Last door. If I've done this right, we're leaving this maze now. Get ready for trouble.' Bull warned.

Fox was relieved to hear it; a mix of desperation of getting out of this discomfort and finding Dupont flooding him. He prepared his gloves and secured his goggles back over his eyes. He was ready.

With a slight nod from Bull, she pushed the key Lithgow had given her into the lock. A thick thunk echoed and, quite swiftly, the magic melted away. The walls were normal, the air warm and smelt of burning oil and the atmosphere had returned to normal. No longer did Fox's eyes fell like something was trying to scoop them out or he was carrying someone on his shoulders. It was gone. Finally he could stand upright and he flexed his fingers, making sure the aching of his bones really had passed.

But as the maze had gone, a new danger had replaced it. The earie silence had vanished, replaced by the sound of life. Voices echoed, doors opening and closing, the whirring of electricity.

'Patrols, Bull.' Fox hissed as he glanced at the door further up the hall. A man was sitting in a chair beside it, his nose deep in whatever book he was reading.

Fox didn't like suddenly seeing guardsmen. It meant he was surrounded, when he hadn't needed to worry about it at all recently.

Bull grabbed his attention and pointed at the door in front of her. Indicating he was ready, Bull counted down on her fingers then cracked it open enough for them to slipped inside.

The door was closed on the pair of them were on either side of the door, Bull beside a pillar while Fox slipped beneath the desk covered in files. They quickly created darkness by turning off the glowing lamp on the wall, hunkered down as still as they could and observed their new surroundings.

The wall there were pressed up against was plain. A cupboard here and there and a glowing light, but that was all. On the other side though were rows of cells. By the coughing, shouting and groaning, Fox knew that there were several occupied ones. But which one had Dupont?