Chapter 9 #2
We rounded a corner and the north pond came into view. It was smaller than I expected, with a wooden gazebo at its edge and several benches arranged facing the water. Sitting alone on one of these benches was a large white goose.
"That's him?" I whispered.
Zane nodded. "Don't let the feathers fool you. That bird has witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations."
We approached cautiously. The goose turned to look at us, and I immediately felt the weight of its gaze. Its eyes weren't the simple black beads of a normal goose. They were swirling pools of iridescent color that seemed to contain galaxies.
"Wadsworth?" I called tentatively. "My name is Winter. I was hoping to speak with you."
The goose regarded me silently for a long moment. Then, to my shock, it spoke—not in honks or squawks, but in a deep, resonant voice that seemed to bypass my ears and vibrate directly in my mind.
"The Chalice-Bearer arrives at last," Wadsworth intoned. "I've been expecting you."
I blinked in surprise. "You have?"
"Of course," the goose ruffled its feathers indignantly. "I'm primordial chaos incarnate. Did you think I wouldn't notice a prophecy of this magnitude activating?"
"Um, no, I guess not?" I cleared my throat.
"Typical human," Wadsworth huffed. "Always underestimating those of us who choose less imposing forms. Do you have any idea how convenient it is to be a goose? No one expects you to attend boring cosmic council meetings. Plus, free bread."
Zane stepped forward with a respectful nod. "It's an honor to meet you, Ancient One. We hope that you'll assist us."
"My feather, yes, yes," Wadsworth interrupted impatiently. "The Feather of Eternal Discord. First trial of the prophecy, key to unlocking your potential, blah blah blah."
"So you'll give it to us?" I looked at the weirdo goose hopefully.
The goose let out a sound that might have been laughter. "Certainly not. At least, not without something in return."
"What do you want?" I narrowed my eyes warily.
Wadsworth fixed those cosmic eyes on me. "Entertainment."
"I'm sorry?"
"Do you have any idea how boring eternity is?" The goose complained. "Especially in this place. Yesterday's excitement was tapioca pudding in the dining hall."
"So if we entertain you, you'll give us the feather?" I clarified.
"Perhaps," Wadsworth tilted his head. "But it must be genuinely amusing. I've seen the rise and fall of empires, the birth and death of stars. I'm not easily impressed."
I exchanged a glance with Zane before facing the goose again. "What did you have in mind?"
The goose's beak curved in what could only be described as a smirk. "There's a hedge maze behind the east wing. If you and your friends can make it to the center before sundown, I might consider parting with one of my feathers."
"A hedge maze?" I frowned. "That doesn't sound too difficult."
Wadsworth's cosmic eyes gleamed. "Oh, but this isn't an ordinary maze. It changes. And I'll be watching and participating."
Before I could ask what that meant, the goose spread its wings and took off, flying toward the eastern part of the grounds.
"Well," Zane sighed, "I guess we're doing a magical maze run."
"Is that really the best plan?" We hurried to gather the others. "I mean, couldn't we just explain that the fate of reality might depend on this feather?"
"Trust me," Zane shook his head, "beings like Wadsworth don't care about the fate of reality. They've seen too many apocalypses come and go. To them, it's all just cosmic entertainment."
We found Fenric lecturing a group of elderly magical beings about proper filing procedures for enchanted documents. The audience looked ready to turn him into something unpleasant.
Maybe we should wait for that to happen first.
"…and that's why color-coding your grimoire pages can increase spell efficiency by up to twelve percent," Fenric was gesturing as we approached.
"Fenric," I interrupted, "we need to go. Now."
He looked annoyed at the interruption but excused himself. "What happened?"
"We found Wadsworth," Zane explained. "He wants us to complete his hedge maze challenge to earn the feather."
"A challenge?" Fenric pulled out his tablet. "I'll need to file a Form 62-C for Prophecy Trial Engagement."
"Later," I grabbed his arm. "We need to find Rook and Milo first."
We located Milo in the recreation room, where he was enthusiastically leading a group of ancient beings in what appeared to be a séance.
"If we focus our energy, we might be able to contact your former bridge partner," he was talking to a brownie as we walked in.
"Milo," I hissed, "what happened to 'distract the staff'?"
He looked up with a bright smile. "Oh, I did that first! Then Mrs. Winterbottom here mentioned she missed her friend Gladys, who passed last century, and I thought…"
"We need to go," Zane cut in. "Hedge maze challenge. Now."
"Ooh, a maze!" Milo jumped up. "Sorry, everyone, duty calls! We'll contact Gladys another time!"
Finding Rook proved more challenging. We eventually discovered him in the garden, looking deeply uncomfortable as three elderly witches fawned over him.
"Such strong arms," one witch was squeezing his bicep. "They don't make them like this anymore."
"And that scowl!" Another cackled. "Reminds me of my third husband. He was a werewolf too, you know. Terrible table manners but magnificent in other ways." She winked salaciously.
Rook's face was a mask of stoic suffering.
"Rook," I called, trying not to laugh, "we need you for a maintenance issue."
He extracted himself from the witches with visible relief, ignoring their disappointed protests.
"I owe you," he muttered as he joined us.
"What happened to perimeter watch?" Zane was trying not to laugh.
"They ambushed me," Rook growled. "The one in the purple hat can move faster than she looks."
With the team assembled, we made our way to the east wing of the property. The hedge maze loomed before us, its entrance an archway of intricately woven branches. Wadsworth sat perched on a stone pedestal beside it, looking smug.
"The rules are simple," the goose ruffled its wings. "Reach the center of the maze before sundown. No flying, teleporting, or phasing through the hedges. Oh, and I'll be making things more interesting."
"What does that mean?" Fenric was suspicious and for once, I agreed with him.
Wadsworth's cosmic eyes gleamed. "You'll see."
With that ominous statement, the goose flapped its wings and disappeared into the maze.
"Well," I took a deep breath, "let's do this."
We entered the maze together, the leafy walls closing in behind us. The hedges were at least twelve feet tall, blocking any view of what lay ahead. The path split immediately into three directions.
"We should split up," Zane suggested. "Cover more ground."
"Split up?" I stared at him. "Have you never seen a horror movie? That's like rule number two or three! Never split up!"
"He's right," Fenric consulted his tablet. "Statistically, we have a 67% better chance of finding the center if we take different paths."
"Fine," I sighed. "But if anyone hears screaming, come running."
We divided into pairs: Zane with me, Rook with Milo, and Fenric on his own (at his insistence that he worked more efficiently solo). As Zane and I took the left path, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched.
"So," I glanced at Zane as we walked, "on a scale of one to ten, how dangerous is this goose?"
"Depends on his mood," Zane shrugged. "He once turned an entire pantheon of lesser gods into houseplants because they forgot to invite him to a solstice party."
"Great," I muttered. "We're playing games with a petty cosmic entity."
We turned a corner and found ourselves facing a dead end. Except the dead end was, uh, moving. The hedge was slowly closing in on us, the branches reaching out like fingers.
"Um, Zane?" I backed up. "Is the plant wall supposed to do that?"
"Nope," he grabbed my hand. "Run!"
We sprinted back the way we came, the animated hedge pursuing us with surprising speed. Just as we reached the previous intersection, the ground beneath us shuddered and the paths rearranged themselves, creating an entirely new layout.
"He's changing the maze!" I gasped. "That fucking feather brained asshole!"
"Told you it wouldn't be ordinary," Zane pulled me down a new path. "Wadsworth loves his games."
For the next hour, we navigated the ever-changing labyrinth, facing increasingly bizarre obstacles.
One path turned to quicksand beneath our feet.
Another released a cloud of butterflies that, upon closer inspection, had tiny human faces expressing profound disappointment.
We occasionally heard Milo's excited shouts or Fenric's outraged citations of Bureau regulations from other parts of the maze.
(I won't lie, Fenric's yelling made me laugh.)
"This is ridiculous," I panted after we escaped a section where the hedges had grown mouths and started singing opera badly. "We're never going to find the center at this rate."
"Don't give up, Shortstack," Zane squeezed my hand, which I suddenly realized he hadn't let go of since we started running. "I think we're getting closer."
Just then, we heard Rook's unmistakable growl followed by Milo's yelp. We rounded a corner to find them facing what appeared to be three copies of Wadsworth, each goose identical down to the cosmic eyes.
"Which one is real?" Milo was asking, looking between the geese in confusion.
"None of them," Rook snarled, his eyes flashing amber. "It's an illusion."
One of the Wadsworths honked indignantly. "Illusion? I prefer the term 'self-replication through quantum uncertainty.'"
"Whatever it is, we don't have time for this," I stepped forward. "Wadsworth, what do you want from us? Really?"
The three geese regarded me with identical tilts of their heads. Then, in unison, they spoke: "What every immortal being wants. Something new."