Rising to his knees, Seth surveyed the vicinity, making certain the centaurs had retained their previous positions and scanning for any sentries he may have missed. He saw no surprises. The nearest centaur was up the slope about thirty feet. From this angle, a torch farther up the hill made his outline obvious.
Seth began crawling along the base of the hill, trying to keep bushes and hedges between himself and the guards. Several times he had to creep across open spaces. He proceeded slowly, and no alarm was raised.
His most nerve-racking moment came as he crept across empty ground not fifteen feet in front of a sentry. He was halfway across the shadowy gap when his knee came down on a dry twig, snapping it clean. Seth halted, head down, muscles locked in panic.
From the corner of his eye he saw the centaur plodding forward to investigate. His only chance was to remain still as a statue and hope he appeared much less visible than he felt. The centaur halted immediately beside him. Had Seth stretched out a hand, he could have touched his hoof. Seth concentrated on breathing softly. Might the centaur smell him? His arms began to feel wobbly from holding the same position.
The centaur finally backed away, returning to his station in the gloom below a tall hedge. Seth slunk forward, careful to move in silence.
At last, heart pounding, Seth came even with the pit belonging to the southernmost megalith. The huge stone had now floated completely out of the way. To reach the pit, once again he would have to traverse an expanse of unshielded ground.
Clenching his tongue gently between his teeth, Seth crawled forward, resisting the temptation to hurry across the bare area. He was well away from any cover when he heard approaching hoofbeats. He slowly turned his head. Several centaurs were approaching from his left, bearing torches and pushing enormous wheelbarrows heaped with food.
Behind him, a centaur whom Seth had failed to notice emerged from hiding. The centaur called out in a series of grunts, gargles, and whinnies. The centaur language sounded more like horse noises than human speech.
The oncoming centaurs responded to the greeting by trumpeting strange replies of their own. They were heading toward the entrance to the maze.
As the centaur behind Seth cantered over to greet his comrades, their eyes were on each other. Seth decided it might be the only decent distraction he would have before they reached him, so he rose, sprinted to the pit in a low crouch, and dove blindly into it.
Fortunately the walls of the pit were not sheer. Seth rolled to the bottom. Relieved once again to hear no cries of alarm, he regained his feet. A rounded entryway dominated one side of the pit. It had no door, so Seth dashed inside.
Below his feet the ground became firm and smooth. The long tunnel sloped steadily downward, plunging into and under the hill. Not wanting to accidentally brush against a wall, Seth switched on his flashlight, cupping a hand over the end to reduce the glare. Before long, he noticed a bluish radiance up ahead and switched off the flashlight.
Seth sprinted along the tunnel until he emerged in a vast cavern. Heavy iron chandeliers hung from the high, vaulted ceiling, casting a diffuse glow across the room. Tall barriers of dark iron reached halfway to the ceiling, barring the way except for five gaps. There was no way to confirm that the iron walls were invisible to others. They sure looked solid to him.
Hooves clattered in the tunnel, and Seth slipped through one of the gaps into the labyrinth, putting a barrier between himself and the entrance to the cavern. He did not proceed far. If he was careful, the presence of the centaurs might work to his advantage. By following them at a distance, he could take the guesswork out of wandering the maze. He bounced on his toes, flexing his fingers, ready to run in case he had accidentally chosen the correct gap and the centaurs came his way.
Glancing at the ground, he noticed that the iron walls cast no shadows. The mellow light from the chandeliers dispersed evenly, with no interference. And in that moment he realized his problem.
If the walls of the maze were invisible to the centaurs, the iron barriers would do nothing to conceal him from their sight!
From the sound of the approaching hoofbeats, the centaurs were almost through the tunnel. Seth raced out of the maze and hurried to one side of the tunnel mouth, standing as close to the wall as he dared. The light from the chandeliers was mild. Was it dim enough for his shade-walking ability to function? Probably not. His mind scrambled. He had gotten only a quick glimpse of the oncoming centaurs. Their wheelbarrows were big, almost the size of wagons. They were piled high with food. What if he tried to hitch a ride as the first one emerged? If he stayed low and kept in the front of the wheelbarrow, the centaur pushing it might not see him.
The first centaur had almost reached him. He could hear the creak of the first wheelbarrow's wheel and the unhurried clop of hoofbeats. As the wheelbarrow nosed out from the tunnel into the cavern, Seth hopped in front of it, sprang inside, and burrowed down as low as he could. He found his cheek nestled against something soft and covered with coarse hair. It took a moment to realize that it was the ear of a pig. In fact, the entire wheelbarrow was stacked with freshly slaughtered hogs, many of them almost Seth's size!
The dead pigs were piled high enough that Seth could not see the centaur pushing the wheelbarrow. He wriggled down as far as he could. Who knew if this wheelbarrow would remain in the lead, or what might happen after they negotiated the maze? He had to try to bury himself. The pigs were heavy and did not leave much wiggle room, but Seth managed to partially conceal his body.
The wheelbarrow entered the maze, moving ahead smoothly, turning right, then left, then veering slightly back to the right. Seth tried hard to pay attention to each turn. If he managed to avoid discovery, he would have to return through the labyrinth on his own. He wondered how the centaurs moved so surely if they could not see the walls. Either they had memorized the route with startling precision, or they were somehow navigating by secret markers, perhaps on the ground or ceiling. Focusing on the iron walls from his position in the wheelbarrow, Seth soon became disoriented by the many turns. He found that if he contented himself with watching the walls peripherally and studied the ceiling instead, he retained a better sense of where they were in the room.
They followed a serpentine route through the maze for longer than Seth liked. He tried to keep count of how many times they doubled back, approximating their position by the stationary chandeliers. At length they arrived at an open area toward the middle of the cavern. In the center of the broad space stood a stone about the size of a refrigerator. The mountain troll sat near the stone, a huge, hunched creature bristling with spikes. His back was to the centaurs, but Seth could see his thick limbs and tough hide. Seated, the troll was at least three times taller than Seth. A chain with links as thick as Seth's waist connected the creature to a huge metal ring in the ground.
Suddenly the wheelbarrow was upended, and Seth found himself participating in an avalanche of dead pigs. Lying beneath a heavy pile of swine, he heard other wheelbarrows dumping their contents. The downside of his position was that the pigs were crushing him. The upside was he could still somewhat breathe and he was utterly hidden from view.
He heard the centaurs retreating. No words were exchanged with the titanic troll.
As the hoofbeats faded, heavier footsteps drew near. The chain clanked weightily. Seth had a vivid image of the troll cramming dead pigs into his mouth, and a human boy along with them. Seth tried to squirm, but the weight of the hogs was too great. He was pinned.
"Hello?" Seth called, not raising his voice too much. The troll stopped moving. "Hello?" Seth tried again.
Seth heard a couple of nearby footfalls, and the porcine press began to lessen. A moment later, Seth had been uncovered. This was his chance. He had to act friendly. Show no uncertainty. He rose to his knees.
The troll towered over him, yellow eyes glaring down. His flesh was thick and folded like the hide of a rhinoceros. The cruel spikes protruding from his shoulders, forearms, thighs, and shins ranged from the length of a knife to the length of a sword. The brute smelled like a monkey house.
"Hi," Seth said brightly, waving and smiling. "I'm Navarog. How are you?"
The troll snorted and grunted at the same time. The exhalation intensified the funky odor.
Seth stood up shakily. "I'm a shadow charmer. An ally of the night. Trolls are my favorite. You sure are big. Look at those spikes! You must be the strongest troll ever!"
The troll smiled. Four of his bottom teeth jutted up almost to his nose.
"I figured we'd become friends," Seth continued, stepping away from the dead swine. "How do you like it here?"
The troll shrugged. "Why you in food?" The words came out like a controlled belch.
"I'm working on a trick. I'm going to play a joke on the centaurs."
The troll sat down, picked up a hog, and stuffed the entire animal in his mouth. Bones crunched sickeningly as he chewed. "Me like jokes."
"I have a really funny one planned. I missed your name."
The troll swallowed noisily and wiped his lips. "Udnar." He picked up another hog by the rear legs, dangled it above his upturned mouth, then dropped it in. "Pigs good."
"I like pigs too."
Udnar grabbed a third pig and held it out to Seth. "Take."
"I can't," Seth apologized. "I ate one on the way in, so now I'm full. I'm not big like you."
"You take no ask?" the troll accused, voice rising.
"No, um, not one of yours. I brought one from home. A little one. My size."
Udnar appeared satisfied. He leaned over to a different pile, snagged a pumpkin the size of a beach ball, and popped it into his mouth. "What joke?"
Seth fished out the banana from his emergency kit. "Know what this is?"
"Banana."
Seth took a steadying breath. He prayed that Nero was right about mountain trolls and pranks. "I'm going to give the centaurs a hilarious surprise. I'm going to switch this banana for the Soul of Grunhold."
The mountain troll stared at him, eyes widening. He placed one huge hand over his mouth. Then the other. The enormous creature started to shake. He closed his eyes, and tears trickled down his cheeks. Dropping his hands, the troll released a blast of sound like a stuttering foghorn.
[drawing: Seth is showing the banana to the mountain troll.]
Seth joined in the laughter. The sight of the troll cracking up was really funny, and the rest was fueled by relief.
Eventually the laughter subsided, leaving the troll panting. "Where put Soul?" Udnar asked.
"I'm going to hide it, just for a little while. A few days. It will be a good prank."
"You bring back," the troll checked, his merriment gone.
"I'll bring it back in a few days," Seth promised. "I just need to sneak it away long enough for the prank to work."
"Centaurs mad," Udnar said seriously.
"Probably. But can you picture their faces when they look for the horn and find a banana?"
Udnar erupted in laughter again, clapping his hands. As his laughter abated, the troll gobbled down another pig. "You funny guy. Talk good Duggish. Udnar miss Duggish."
"I love Duggish. Best language in the world. So where do you keep the Soul?" Seth was keenly aware that time was slipping away.
The troll jerked a thumb at the stone in the middle of the room. "Soul in heart."
"The rock is the heart?"
"Heart of Grunhold."
Seth trotted over to the stone. Udnar began smashing open barrels and guzzling the contents. On the far side of the stone Seth found the horn conspicuously sticking out, the top half fitted in a socket.
Seth pulled the horn from the hole. About eighteen inches long, the straight, tapering horn spiraled to a blunt point. It felt heavier than Seth would have guessed and had the smooth luster of slightly translucent pearl. He found it beautiful, but experienced no rush of guilt upon taking it. "I'll bring you back," he promised quietly.
He crammed the banana into the hole. The fruit was a little too wide to fit perfectly. He twisted and pressed until it curved up instead of down.
The troll lumbered over to join him, and collapsed to the ground guffawing at the sight of the banana. Seth moved away from the brute as he thrashed his bulky legs in ecstasy. "So, so, so funny," Udnar panted, sitting up.
"I need to get going," Seth announced, striding toward the only gap in the iron barrier.
"Back soon?" the troll asked.
"Count on it," Seth assured him. "You don't know any tricks for getting through the maze?"
"No touch walls," Udnar cautioned.
"I won't. Once they notice the banana, don't tell them you helped me. Pretend you don't know how I did it. That way they'll just get mad at Navarog the trickster. 'Bye, Udnar. Enjoy your pigs! See you soon!"
"Back soon, Navarog."
After stowing the horn in his emergency kit, Seth sped up to a jog. He wondered if the centaurs could sense that the Soul had been removed from the Heart. Regardless, time was running out. How long since the giant stones had started marching? Half an hour? More? Less? Why hadn't he consulted his watch until now?
He had tried to pay attention when they emerged from the maze, and felt confident that his first turn was to the right. At his next intersection he could either go left or straight. Neither iron corridor looked more familiar than the other.
Nero had said that the secret to a maze was to always turn left. But Seth supposed the reverse would work just as well--always turn right. They had spent most of their time winding around on one side of the room, and it looked like left turns would take him away from that side. He decided to take every right turn, but to keep an eye on the ceiling, and break from the pattern if the position of the chandeliers started to look wrong.