“Do you
think we have any chance at all of finding this ladder in the ground
of yours?”
“This is
the Weave, m'lady. Here, everything is possible.”
“Then off
we go,” Fiona declares, marching towards the maze entrance.
“Is that
not a little rash?” Strauss asks as he follows her.
“Back
there,” Fiona waves towards the stairs, “Is trouble. This is
nowhere. Somewhere out there is the way out. Don't worry, I have a
plan.”
She enters
the maze, walking as far as the first intersection, where she stops.
She rips a branch from the hedge, stripping it of twigs and leaves.
“Well
then, Mr Strauss,” she says, “Left or right? What do you think?”
