Garinor stepped toward the door on the right and he stepped into the mystical darkness and closed his eyes, prepared to combat the sudden brilliance he expected when he closed the door. To his surprise, there wasn’t a sudden brightness like before. Just a dim glow.
He opened his eyes and scanned the new area. It was nighttime, and a large moon was overhead, bathing the ground in its glow. He wondered if he could have been inside the labyrinth for so long already, but then he dismissed the notion, for the places he had seen had shown him that there was magic here.
A wide-open field spread before him and he squinted into the darkness to see where he would find the next purveyor of information. As he looked around, he spotted a large contingent of men and women lined up on either side, each brandishing a bow and arrow. He would need to find a way to get through the gauntlet without being killed. He waited patiently but no one fired off their bow until he moved.
When Garinor took his first step, one of the two archers nearest him let loose their arrow. It soared through the dark night and would have hit Garinor if he hadn’t stepped quickly back. The archer nocked another arrow, ready to strike again. In this manner, Garinor understood that he couldn’t trick the archers to unload their projectiles and then walk cleanly across the area.
He surveyed the archers and their positions. Some of them had their bows drawn, ready to release, but others only had their arrows in hand. He realized he could time his steps by judging the archers’ stances. He also knew he had to figure in the flight time and the angle of the bows as well. He didn’t doubt that every archer would be able to strike him skillfully, so he had to be careful. The archers with the bows angled upward would have shots that would lob through the air before catching him, whereas the ones whose arms were lower would spear him instantly.
Garinor ran three steps in and then stopped short, waiting as five arrows flew through the air, then he took one quick step, then two short leaps. He ducked low as arrows whizzed overhead and once tumbled into a roll when he misjudged the height of one of the projectiles. He danced about, rocking back and forth, trying to ensure he wouldn’t be hit. Once he managed to trick an archer into firing prematurely, then he dashed ahead into a frenzied volley. Jumping, twisting, walking, and running, Garinor worked his way through his only chance at getting past the gauntlet.
Only five more archers remained, then four, three… He dove as one of the last two archers broke the pattern and loosed his charge early. Garinor bounded to his feet and faced the last archer, whose speedy arrow nearly clipped Garinor’s ear, but then he was through.
Before him sat a man eating a vine of grapes in a disinterested manner. “So you’ve come,” he droned. “Nice of you to skip past my archers. Now I know I must train them harder. Ah, but you are not here for that, are you? You seek the path out of here.” He swallowed another grape and then motioned to two doors behind him. “To the left you will find your way, as unscathed as you are after passing through my gauntlet. To the right you will face a horrible trial that will scar you for life.”