it’s difficult to be a source of solace to your wife when you’re also the source of her pain.
I thought back to the mirror image of Barabbas then fast-forwarded to this most recent image of Amy crying her eyes out. Suddenly it wasn’t so difficult to see myself as a cold, heartless murderer. I hadn’t physically harmed my wife, but I had effectively killed her spirit with my actions.
In the blink of an eye the minotaur held my heart in his hand instead of his own extracted eyeball. He made a fist and squeezed until tears streamed down my cheeks. My chest felt like it might explode at any moment. I gasped for breath as I shared Amy‘s heartbreak.
“That’s because of me.” My lower lip quivered. Then I thought about what I’d said and realized I was wrong. My voice became steel. “No, that’s not because of me. Darrell Gene manipulated things to hurt her. He made it look like I was cheating. He drove that wedge between us.”
“And he kidnapped you and drove your car to Karen’s apartment?” The minotaur had a small amount of mirth in his voice. “Isn’t that correct?”
That hurt. Badly. But it was true. “No,” I admitted. “I did that on my own.”
The minotaur nodded, satisfied. “You know the score now. You know who one of your enemies is, but there are others who aren‘t confined to prisons of flesh and bone. Your family is in jeopardy now. That much should be apparent. The task I have for you may affect this.”
“A fight to the death.”
The minotaur nodded again. “The stakes are these. You will fight an opponent of my choosing. Your canine friend may help you. If you win, someone on the side of light will pay a visit to Darrell Gene Rankin and implore him to consider his actions. That will buy you some time.”
“And if I lose?”
“If you lose, Darrell Gene will deliver this to your wife.”
The minotaur’s outstretched hand no longer held my wounded heart or an all-seeing eyeball. Instead, it held a picture of me standing outside Karen’s apartment.
“You-you can’t do this! This picture is misleading!”
“The decision isn‘t mine to make,” the minotaur said. “That’s the way this place works. I’m lord here. And it’s my duty to make sure the rules of the maze are upheld.”
“It’s not fair!”
“Don’t forget that you are the one who opened the door to this place.”
I gritted my teeth. “Show me who I have to fight.”
“As you wish. Follow me.”
Chapter 14
With trepidation, I followed Asterion down the long hallway. Midnight padded along behind me, keeping a safe distance from the minotaur.
Asterion seemed to know exactly where we were going and how to get there. I didn’t bother trying to keep up with each twist and turn. I was already confused enough as it was. Thankfully it was only a short while before we’d reached a wrought iron gate interlaced with ivy.
“Have you learned to navigate the walls yet?” Asterion asked me.
I shook my head. “I’ve played around with the symbols a bit, but obviously I haven’t found the escape.”
“Watch and learn.” He located three glowing numbers. “Sixty-six. Three. Twenty.”
Abruptly, the wrought iron gate swung open on well-oiled hinges.
“I don’t understand.”
“The sixty-sixth book in the Bible is Revelation. The third chapter and twentieth verse says, 'Behold I stand at the door and knock.'”
“So these numbers represent passages in the Bible?”
“Among other things.” Asterion didn’t bother to elaborate. Midnight and I followed the creature through the door. It felt like we were deliberately walking into a trap, but there was nothing I could do about it.
The amphitheater spread out before us looked like a bowl that had been carved out of the earth. Rows of benches circled the arena, but no one was there to sit on them. A throne of bones sat higher than anything else and looked out over the battlefield. I assumed this was where Asterion was going to sit. I imagined Nero playing his fiddle on a throne like that as he watched Christians being fed to the lions.
“This is where you will fight---and possibly die.”
I shot Asterion a look. “You really know how to fill a guy with hope.”
“Hope is not my sole purpose.” Asterion uncovered a stone table filled with weapons. “Choose carefully.”
The table was filled with swords, knives, archery supplies, axes, spiked clubs, maces, morning stars, whips, and lengths of rusty chain. No warrior would have trouble trying to outfit himself for battle. Unfortunately, I was no warrior.
In addition