04 The Tangle Box by Terry Brooks

Author:Terry Brooks
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy
Published: 2010-04-10T10:42:45+00:00

"Is this not the way life should be lived?" the big man asked suddenly, leaning over once more. He was flushed and smiling. "Give no thought to tomorrow until it comes. Do not worry about (hat over which you have no* control. Sing and dance. Drink and laugh. Leave your troubles for another time."

The Knight shook his head. 'Troubles have a way of catching up with you."

The other laughed. "Such a pessimist! Look at you! You neither sing nor dance! You drink so little! How can you enjoy yourself? You must give life a chance!"

"Is there a way out of the Labyrinth?" the Knight asked again.

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The Gypsy shook his head merrily, climbed to his feet, and shrugged. "Not this night, I think. Tomorrow, maybe." And off he went, dancing lightly for all his size across the firelight.

The Knight drained away the last of his wine and looked over for his companions. The Lady was still sleeping soundly. The Gargoyle had disappeared. The Knight cast about for him in vain, even beyond the firelight. He was gone.

The Knight tried to rise and found he could not. His legs would not work, and his body felt encased in iron. He struggled against a weight mat seemed to chain him down, managing to come almost all the way up before falling back. The River Gypsies danced and sang about him, oblivious. Colors and shapes spun past him as he turned toward the darkness. Something was wrong. Some trick had been played.

He was still wondering what was amiss as he toppled over into blackness.

When he came awake, he was alone. The River Gypsies were gonethe men, the women, the wagons, the mules, everything. All that remained were the ashes of the fires, still smoldering faintly in the hazy dawn. The Knight was stretched full length upon the grassy earth. He rolled over weakly and came to his knees. His head throbbed from the wine, and his muscles were cramped from his sleep. To his left, the river flowed past, smooth, soundless, and undisturbed. To his right, the forest was a dark curtain filled with mist.

The Knight rose to his feet and waited for the dizziness to pass.

The Lady was gone as well.

He felt his breatti quicken and his chest constrict with anger and disbelief. Where had she gone? He cast about

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through the early morning gloom for some sign of her, but there was none. She had disappeared.

He was still in the process of regaining his bearings when the Gargoyle emerged from the trees and came toward him. The Knight realized suddenly that his weapons were missing as well, all of them. He was defenseless.

"Sleep well?" the Gargoyle queried as he reached the Knight, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable.

"Where are my weapons?" the Knight demanded angrily. "What has become of the Lady?"

The Gargoyle hunched down before him, dark-featured. "The River Gypsies have them both. They took them while you were sleeping." /

"Took them?" The Knight was stunned. "You mean they stole them?"

The Gargoyle laughed softly.

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