Calponia spent an inordinate amount of time tasting dirt while she felt somewhat sorry for herself. The dirt tasted faintly smoky, with a hint of eau d' mildew. She listened to the footsteps draw close to her cell. In the pause, she braced herself, flinching at the captain's snarl as he took off, roaring at the top of his lungs about her escape. That he didn't immediately check the hole in the wall was nothing short of a miracle. It certainly wasn't luck, though she began to suspect her luck was so monumentally awful, it had swung back around on the upswing of good.
The opening was so obvious she wasn't sure it met the requirements for secret passage. Of course, she hadn't seen it until she fell through it. Come to think of it, unless you were feeling along the wall, you'd miss it entirely, a trick straight out of Labyrinth, minus the cheeky inch worm. Somewhere, Henson was turning in his grave. When the captain's presence had well and truly receded, Calponia carefully rose to her feet. The passage yawned before her and she'd didn't exactly have a flashlight tucked into her binding. Muttering to herself, Calponia leaned on the wall, taking a step that immediately slammed her toes into an uneven stone, the same foot still tender from kicking the bars to her cell. That nixed her good fortune theory.
Trying to ignore her throbbing foot, she inched forward in sliding steps, her progress marked by pebbles stabbing through the thin soles of her shoes. Beneath the overly loud scrape and drag of her foot steps there was another sound, a soft grinding that sent her imagination into overdrive. The small sound bounded off the walls echoing in what she thought was a closed space. She stopped moving, certain there was something in here with her. She swore six ways to Sunday as she blinked hard at the dark. It didn't get any better. A silly reaction since there was no source of light for her eyes to adjust to. Why must everything be so damn difficult?
Frustrated, she finally gave into the urge that had been plaguing her since she stepped foot in this blasted realm. Calponia yanked her hands off the way and scratched her face, sticky from the failed glue. Sparse tufts of fake hair stubbornly clinging to her skin like a puberty smackdown but hurt too much to peel free. No one was around to call her on being a wuss. Besides, why add more pain to her ledger? She bent back and let her fingers scrabble at her sore skin, hissing softly at the pleasure-pain sensation. She was still in prison, lost in the dark, alone, but dammit, she'd scratched the itch. She was fairly certain she'd broken a toe on that last rock. How far had she made it in? She glanced over her shoulder.
The darkness had swallowed up the entrance. That meant progress. Didn't it? She sighed and reached for the wall, barely catching herself when her fingers met nothing. What the hell? The same faint grinding sound echoed through the air. She froze, eyes wide despite being unable to see anything. Her heart pounded as she reached out and met stone directly in front of her. Well, at least she was fairly certain it wasn't a beastie closing in on her. It was the whole damn room.
The walls were moving. She was in a shifting stone maze, in the dark. She'd laugh if she wasn't so royally fecked.
Swallowing, she forced her chin to stop wobbling and felt her way along the wall, shuffling along. Twice she tripped on dips and raised stones. She barely caught herself when the stone wall opened, but she kept moving. Not like she could go back. Every time the walls ground to a new formation, she paused, silently praying under her breath they didn't squish her between two big slabs. Calponia was struck by the conflicting sensations of going backwards and being hopelessly lost. There was an urge to scream bubbling up in her chest, one she choked back since the only thing that could make this situation worse was to draw attention of the captain or something worse. There was always something worse. The walls started shifting. Calponia paused, bracing her hands against her thighs as she panted through the anxiety strangling her.
She was totally off guard for the light that blasted her in the face. She sneezed, squinting through her watering eyes at the wavering opening in the wall. Holy shit, the exit! The rapidly closing exit, as the walls began to shift again. She stumbled forward, tripping over another stone because that was the nature of her existence. She rolled once she hit the ground refusing to let her fall halt her forward momentum. Who knew when the way would open again? She could be stuck in the dark for hours if she missed the opening now, a situation she knew would break her.
Calponia rolled until she knew she was in the clear, closing her eyes tight against the light as she sat up. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the sputtering torch, mounted overhead in an iron wall bracket. There was enough light to see the wall in front of her visibly shift, stones sliding over one another like the scales of a living creature. Neat trick, she thought, wondering what technology powered it on a world like Arden. Prying her gaze off the shifting stone, she realized she'd rolled out into a downward sloping passageway. A solid wall behind her made it the only direction to go. Another torch lit the space further down the way, a promise of steady light.
She sucked on her teeth, hoping that was the case as she followed the path in silent measured steps. No scraping walls here, only the faint crackle of the torches and something else, a low hum that grew stronger the further down she went. Uncertain what she was walking into, she paused at the corner, pressing against the wall as she peered around the corner straight into Frankenstein's lab.
She blinked. Wrong world, there were no living dead monsters in Shakespeare, unless she'd missed that play. What was she seeing? Massive gears and cogs turned in perfect synchronization along one wall, powering what mechanism she couldn't guess. The maze? More impressive were the giant coils spitting arcs of lightning between them. Intermittently, a bolt would shoot out from the coils, plunging into a waterfall that hissed and steamed. Make that laboratory meets sauna. Through the steam, on twin suspended platforms hung two figures in chains.
They were trussed up in identical fashion, but the two males were night and day to one another, the first a heavily muscled black man who looked like he'd give the Shaq a run for his money in height and muscle tone. In sharp contrast, the other man was delicate, a sugar spun waif, with white blond hair and bone white skin, as if all the color was bleached away from his person. The only note of color to him was the sky blue rags around his waist. Oh, and the blood. Both of them were rather bloody.
Calponia pulled back, steeling herself. After her turn on Sanguinheim, the sight made her queasy. "So sick of blood," she muttered. There appeared to be no one else in the room with the two bound men, who were no doubt Prospero's sons. Appearances were deceiving. A dilemma weighed on her thoughts. How long would they remain alone before the Big Bad made an appearance? If she was a gambling woman, she knew where she'd place her bets. She should wait for backup....what backup? Last she'd seen of the others they were being overwhelmed by undead Zealots, their fate unknown. Of course, Mack recovered from a spear to the chest so she refused to believe him down for the count. However, who knew when he'd make it down here; when anyone on team good guy would make it down here. Which meant it came down to her to save the day.
"Oh, bother," said Calponia, rounding the corner before she could talk herself out of it. She inched along the wall, as if that lessened her exposure in the vast open laboratory. It still made her feel better to have her back to the wall. This strategy worked well until her feet unerringly found a pile of loose gears strewn haphazardly across her path. Her foot kicked them before her mind registered their presence, creating a cacophony of sound. The behemoth looked up. She was close enough to see the incredulous sneer on his battered face.
"You must be joking," he grated.
"Please tell me that isn't our would be rescuer?" This came from the waif, in a voice as light and breathy as the rest of him.
Calponia scowled at them. "I could come back if you gentlemen are busy," she snapped.
The big guy focused on her. "A woman," he murmured. He jerked forward, straining against his binds. "Have you seen her? Is she with you?"
"Please tell me she's not," the other one whispered, his hands closing into fists.
"Is she safe?" The big one barked at her.
"Who are you talking about?" Though Calponia had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who they were talking about.
"Our sister," said the giant, "Miranda."
"She, uh," Calponia licked her lips, tasting the foul glue. She made a face. "She wouldn't happen to disguise herself as a city guard would she?"
The pale one groaned. "Dammit. Where is she?"
"Well, she helped to arrest me," said Calponia. Telling them their sister was somewhere in the prison, possibly in the same maze she went through, wouldn't help her get them down. She pushed away from the wall, eyeing the raised platforms as their occupants eyed her.
"You're not one of the Dark Lady's Operatives," said the big guy.
"Not from around here," said Calponia. How the heck did the platforms come down? They had to come down, right? She frowned, unable to locate a gear or switch.
"Are you here as an agent of the Tavern Master? Have you seen our father?"
Calponia looked up at two anxious faces. "He's alive." She wasn't sure how much to reveal but her answer appeared sufficient enough, the two brothers visibly relieved by her news. "How do I get you down?"
"I don't know," said the pale one, "Are you a witch?"
"Excuse me?"
"Don't be cheeky, Ariel," the big guy grumbled.
"I wasn't being cheeky, Caliban," said the pale Ariel, watching her as he spoke. "If she isn't a witch or sorceress, she's not going to be much help now is she? The columns are spelled, manipulated by magic."
Calponia looked between them. "You're serious?" Neither of them were exactly in a position to be kidding. Both of them looked like hell, and they were obviously uncomfortable in their chains, the metal digging into their wrists. She swore under her breath, her valiant rescue attempt foiled straight out of the gate, but something bothered her.
That monstrosity of a maze had to be mechanical, likely powered by the wall of gears churning away behind her. She'd bet money the platforms came down using similar gear work. Why? Because the alternative was too depressing to contemplate.
"There has to be some other way to get you down," she said and poked the metal column with her fore finger. An unpleasant tingle ran through her hand, as if her whole limb suddenly fell asleep. Unseen metal whined and snapped. The big guy, Caliban, yelped as his platform plummeted down and slammed to the ground. He rocked in his chains but appeared unharmed. Both men blinked at her. Calponia stepped away, slowly lowering her hand.
"See," she cleared her throat, "always another way."
Ariel quirked a brow at her. "You sure you're not a witch?"
"Yeah, pretty sure," said Calponia.
"You don't seem very sure about that at all," said Caliban.
"Not too sure at all," Ariel piped up.
"I didn't 'spirit fingers' your brother down," Calponia snapped, eyeing the wall of gears nervously, "It was... something else, now shut up. I need to make sure the room isn't going to come down around our ears." Her words trailed away on a mumbled as she glanced around, ignoring the exchanged looks between the brothers. They might think it magic but she knew better. She held her breath, listening to the wall of gears continue without a hitch. Whatever unseen machinery the bete noire just caused to epically fail appeared to be its own entity. She released her breath and reached for the other pillar.
A violent spark met her fingers, blasting her backwards. Calponia landed painfully on her butt and slid across the floor. Caliban and Ariel stared at her.
"Not magic then," breathed Ariel, rubbing his jaw against his arm.
"Haven't seen a curse that potent in some time," said Caliban. He eyed his chains, whistling long. "Sit tight, I can take it from here." Take it he did, ripping free from the chains with laughable ease.
Calponia threw up her hands. "If you could do that from the beginning why didn't you?"
"Because I couldn't," said Caliban, rubbing his wrists as he approached the other pillar. "The chains contained some sort of spell that kept me weak."
"Spell," sputtered Calponia, rolling to her knees. "They were electrified, Danger Dan, electrified. Not spelled. Wait don't--" But he'd already grasped the other pillar. No spark shot him off.
"Bugger," she grumbled.
"Looks like you managed to break the spell on this one as well," said Caliban, and heaved. Calponia winced at the sound of metal squealing but that pillar came down, slower but Ariel probably appreciated the sedate pace. On ground level, she could see he was much more injured than his brother, or at least visibly so. He still managed a surly frown up at her from his disadvantageous position.
"His name is Caliban, not this Dangerous Daniel you speak of. Have a care," said Ariel. The threat might have been more effective if he wasn't slurring and swaying. She frowned, wondering what the hell his problem was.
"She didn't mean anything by it, Ariel, ease off," said Caliban, hefting his brother up with one arm. Half carrying his brother, the giant turned to her with a surprisingly patient air. "Can you get us out of here, oh glorious rescuer?"
She raised an eyebrow but Caliban offered a warm smile that transformed his intimidating features into something far more charming. Not as charming as a certain gunslinging pirate but Calponia relaxed a fraction, her frown turning to a rueful smile. "I'm not too sure we can make our escape the same way I came in."
Caliban nodded to the long incline behind them. "The shifting maze?"
"Yeah, pitch black, wandering walls, fun times."
"You didn't bring a light source?" The slightly mocking question came from Ariel. "Quite the glorious rescuer indeed."
Her hands clenched. "Just what is your problem, buddy? I'm winging it here and still doing a damn sight better at escaping than you."
Caliban shook his head at her. "I apologize. My brother is out of sorts. Please, lead the way and grab a torch. The maze is a great deal easier to navigate by torchlight."
"I bet it is," Calponia muttered, turning to the exit and froze.
Standing at the mouth of their escape ramp was a robed figure, completely covered in swaths of black cloth that completely hid their face. The figure wasn't alone, a gloved hand dragging an unconscious guard who was somehow familiar except Calponia didn't remember such long blond hair.
"Miranda," Caliban gasped behind her.
Calponia looked up into the yawning hood, dread curling in her stomach. The Big Bad had arrived.