Stephen Lawhead - The Paradise War

We walked along the gently curving passageway and came eventually to what I first thought was a blank wall, but which, at closer approach, I saw was actually a close turn, doubling the passage back upon itself. We proceeded along this new corridor, holding our torches high to throw as much light before us as possible.

Despite Tegid's guidance, I found the maze utterly disorienting. As we moved along the curving walls to the sound of rushing water all around, I felt like a lost soul stumbling along, steering by my fitful light, hoping to reach I knew not what. And the water, swiftly flowing, was like time or the force of life, bearing us along on our journey.

The passage turned abruptly once more and we rounded the bend and started down yet another curving corridor, this one just slightly more sharply curved than the last. It may have been my imagination, but it did seem as if the bend became both a literal and symbolic turning point, a point of doubt requiring a decision. The way ahead was dark and uncertain, the way behind could no longer be seen. To go ahead meant to trust in the Maker of the Maze that the reward sought at the Heart of the Heart would bless and not curse.

The curves of the maze became sharper, the turns more frequent. By this I knew that we were coming to the center of the maze. The sound of rushing water grew louder as well. We would reach the central chamber soon. What would we find there?

The sound of water all around, the darkness, the cold, the hardness of the rock-I felt as if I had indeed entered into an initiation. Here is where memory begins, Tegid had said. Memory begins with birth. Was I being born into something? Or was something being born in me? I could not tell, but I felt the expectation growing with each step.

Tighter became the turns, quicker the steps. I felt my pulse racing and the surge of anticipation rushing through me. Water, fire, darkness, stone-a world of elemental simplicity exerting an elemental force upon me. I could feel the pull in my bones and blood. My mind quickened to a call older than any other, ancient, primeval: the summons to life which had called man forth from the elements.

We rounded the last bend in the maze and entered a circular chamber. It was empty-except for a large hole in the floor where the icy stream which had coursed through the winding pathways of the maze now disappeared. The roar of the watervoice, like that of a god, came up through the dark hole as the falling stream shattered on the rocks somewhere below.

«We have reached the Heart of the Heart,» Tegid explained. «Here memory is extinguished.»

«Memory is extinquished in death,» I mused.

«That is so. But to die to one world is to be born into another. Therefore life, like all created things, though it ceases to flow in this world, continues its journey in the place beyond.»

The tingling I felt was the hair on the nape of my neck creeping. In the place beyond… the Phantarch sleeps….

Standing in the icy water, listening to the roar of falling water, I felt again the terror of that night on the sacred mound. In the darkness I saw again the looming maw of the Cythrawl, and felt Ollathir's arm tight on my neck and his breath hot in my ear. And I heard again the strange words the Chief Bard had bequeathed me with his dying breath.

«Domhain Dorcha,» I said, turning to Tegid. «The place beyond.»

Tegid's eyes flicked sharp and quick over my face. Interest spiked the bard's voice. «Where did you hear those words?»

«Ollathir told me,» I answered, and told him what I remembered. «I did not know what he was saying, but I know now. I remember it now. In the place beyond, the Phantarch sleeps. That is what Ollathir told me.» I pointed to the hole where the water cascaded out of sight. «And there is where we will find the Phantarch.»

«Are you willing?» asked Tegid quietly.

«I am,» I answered.

Trembling with awe and excitement, we moved to the hole and held our torches low in an effort to penetrate the darkness beneath our feet. We could see nothing below the rim of the hole, however. The water spilling over the edge splashed into the unseen depths below. We stood for a moment wondering bow far the water fell.

Then Tegid dropped his torch into the hole. The flrebrand spun end over end, and for the briefest of instants there flashed the glassy walls and floor of a lower chamber before the torch doused itself in a pool. He raised his head and our eyes met and held the glance. «Well? What say you, brother?»

«There is no other way down,» I said.

«And perhaps no other way back up,» he pointed out.

True. We had no rope, no tools of any kind. We must decide what to do without knowing the outcome of our actions. If we failed there would be no second chance, no delivery, no rescue, no salvation. We were to risk all, to trust the tortured, perhaps confused word of a dying bard.

«If Ollathir was here and told you to go down into that hole,» I asked, «would you do it?»

«Of course,» replied Tegid, without hesitation. His faith in his leader was simple and direct. Tegid's assurance was good enough for me.

I gazed into a darkness dense as dirt and blacker than oblivion. It might well be our deaths awaiting us below. «Will you go first, or shall I?»

«I will go first,» he said, eyeing the round black void before us. «And when I call to you, hold the torch over the hole and drop it. I will try to catch it.»

Then he simply stepped into the hole and plunged from sight. I heard the splash as he hit the water, and, for a heart-catching instant, nothing… and then a coughing, sputtering gasp.

«Tegid! Are you hurt?» I threw myself onto my stomach and lowered the torch through the hole.

«It is cold!» he roared, his voice echoing away into the depths below. I heard him thrashing in the water and then, «Throw the torch. I am directly beneath you.»

I tilted the torch fire-end upright as far as I could manage without burning myself. «Here it comes,» I said, and let it drop.

I saw it flutter and flare for a moment, and I was certain it would go out. But, just before it touched the water, I saw a hand swoop out and Tegid was waving the torch and shouting, «I have it! I have it!»

I could see his upturned face in the torchlight, grinning up at me as if from a well. «Now you,» he called.

He moved aside and I sat down on the edge of the hole, letting my legs dangle into the void below. The darkness closed upon me like a physical force; I could feel it as a pressure on my eyeballs and lungs-a vast, soft, invisible hand, squeezing me, suffocating me. Blind, breathless, cold water flowing all around and over me, I placed my hands on the edge of the precipice and pushed myself off the rim. The sensation of plunging through space in absolute darkness was more unnerving than I had expected. It seemed as if I fell and fell and would go on falling and never stop; I was beginning to wonder if I would ever hit bottom, when I smacked the surface of the water.

Instantly, the water closed over my head and I was plunged into the wet dark cold. I sank until! felt solid rock beneath me. I pushed against the bottom with my feet and shot up, floundering and spewing, icy water pouring down on me from overhead. I dashed water from my eyes and looked towards the light. Tegid stood at the pool's edge holding the torch high so that I could see him. I swam to him; he knelt and grabbed my arm, and pulled me from the pool.

I stood, conscious of a subtle change in our surroundings– as if we had indeed passed from one realm into another. Tegid made to turn away, and, at the movement of the torch, I glimpsed a fleeting glimmer of light on the wall, the flash of a spark. «What next?» I asked. My voice did not echo, but fell hushed at my feet.