CHAPTER#09

Mike held the small sledgehammer in both hands, dubious that he would be able to strike another living being with it, much less a minotaur. Still, it was better than nothing, which made him feel a little bit better.

Mike had debated purchasing a gun, but he knew next to nothing about them other than to point the long, skinny end at stuff you wanted to kill. His lack of education aside, Naia had warned him against such a purchase for the sole reason that she had no idea what other creatures may be lying in wait within the house's walls, and the last thing they needed was another Jenny-type situation with the addition of a firearm.

In addition, Naia had informed him that odds were good that Tink would take it apart anyway.

"Husband ready?" Tink asked, her hand on the doorknob. Sighing, Mike nodded. Being honest with himself, he was never going to be truly ready. Tink cradled her crossbow in both arms, fierce determination in her eyes that matched the dark, black lines she had painted beneath them using some shoe polish she had found. She had coerced Mike into doing the same, and he knew they both looked ridiculous. Tink wore a small backpack containing a few flashlights, the map, and a box of Pop-tarts.

Turning the knob to the blue room, Tink pushed the door open, her crossbow at the ready. The room looked like most of the other rooms in the house - sparsely furnished, a place that time had forgotten. The big distinguishing factor was that this room was, in fact, painted blue. For whatever reason, simply being in this space reminded Mike of his long dead father. He had no proof that his dad had ever stayed here as a child, but Beth, his estate agent, had suggested it on his first night here and the idea had resonated with him.

"Coast clear," Tink whispered, sliding in and pointing her crossbow at the closet door.

"Do you really think the minotaur would have come out of the cave?" Mike asked. The door to the closet was closed, the simple white door somehow ominous.

"Tink take no chances," she said, moving sideways to cover him. "Maybe stupid cow fuck wait to ruin Tink's day again."

Mike didn't say anything. Tink's goggles had been an obsession since she had lost them to the minotaur. They were magical, able to see things that ordinary people couldn't, and Tink had waited so long only because the house had needed structural repairs to the front deck. This morning, Tink had announced that she had waited long enough and was ready to move forward with Operation Stupid Cow Fuck (her name, not his).

"Ready?" Mike asked, his hand hovering over the small, white painted knob.

"Tink ready." She held the crossbow up, aiming it at the door.

"Let's go," Mike said, yanking the door open. Tink lowered the crossbow, frowning at the closet. Peeking around the corner, Mike saw that the closet was, once again, simply a closet. No sign remained of the cave.

"Try open different," Tink said, raising her crossbow again. Shrugging, Mike closed the door, gripping the knob differently so that he could turn it the other way.

"Okay, here we go!" Mike yanked the door open, stepping back with his hammer held tight.

"Fuck!" Tink lowered her crossbow. The closet hadn't changed.

"How do we get the closet to become the cave again?" Mike asked.

"Tink could tell you... if TINK HAD FUCKING GOGGLES!" Tink threw her crossbow to the side, the bolt firing into the ceiling up above. Mike ducked out of reflex, watching the plaster drift gently down over Tink. The goblin slammed the closet shut, turned her back to it, then opened it while facing away. The cave failed to appear.

"Tink?" Mike asked, but she ignored him. She knocked on the door, kicked it, and even used her mouth to turn the knob, but nothing worked. Whatever ritual had been used to make the cave appear wasn't a simple one, and Tink's green face was a mask of fury. She grabbed the closet door hard enough that her claws left marks in the wood.

"Fuck!" Tink slammed the door, tears appearing in her eyes. "Goggles gone forever!"

"We'll figure this out, I promise." Mike set his hammer down, kneeling by the goblin. Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled her tight against her body, absorbing her sobs with his shirt.

"Tink miss her goggles. Goggles are Tink's most prized possession." Sniffling, she buried her face in the crook of Mike's arms. Mike squeezed her as tight as he could. Tink let out a sigh, sinking into him.

"You know," Mike said, wondering if his idea was too stupid to even consider. "We do know somebody who knows how to open that door."

"We do?" Tink rubbed the tears from her eyes.

"Yeah, but I don't know how happy she will be to see us." Mike knew it was a stupid idea, but he couldn't bear to see her cry any longer. "Let's head down to the Vault and ask Jenny how to do it."

"No!" Tink shook her head, her braids dancing over her shoulders. "Little doll mean big trouble! No ask!"

"Then how else do we get in?" Mike asked. "Unless someone wrote directions on that map of the labyrinth you have, I don't see us... are you listening?" Tink's eyes had glassed over, her gaze on the wall behind Mike. Mike grabbed her by the wrists, shaking her arms. "Tink? Tink!"

"Husband have great idea!" Snapping back to reality, Tink grabbed her crossbow and ran out of the room. Mike followed, wondering what the little goblin was up to. Tink dumped the bag at the foot of the kitchen table, snatching the map from its inner pocket and spreading it out on the table.

"Tink, what are you doing?" Shaking his head, he stood behind her while she leaned over the old parchment. Tink had retrieved the map from the Vault, but had never said much else about it. It was largely complete, but the worst gaps were in the depths of the Labyrinth, blank spots on the parchment that gave Mike anxiety.