SURE AS SIN I FLYNN CARSEN

The Queen Is Dead, Long Live The Queen

The Queen Is Dead, Long Live The Queen

"How is your search for the Library going?" Eve whispered to Flynn as they made their way through the winding tunnels.

"I'm almost close," Flynn whispered back, "and I've been getting a lot closer, if I could just get... closer."

Eve just looked at him, brow furrowing. Behind her, Clara rolled her eyes. She'd had the same conversation with him in a charming little tearoom two weeks back, just before he made the plate of cress sandwiches go up in talking flames, much to the proprietor's terror. In hindsight, Clara guessed she could take it as an omen of her future fate. As of now, she was being struck by a strong sense of déjà-vu, half expecting the Minotaur to loom out the darkness at them. She'd received a postcard from Archie, telling her to join a queue and do the Conga, but other than that, her memories of the Labyrinth had faded with the passing of time. But not now though, the past alarmingly almost becoming the present.

"Hello," Jacob said, coming to a stop.

"What is it?" Flynn asked, grabbing the doorway for support.

"Three pearls, just through there," Jacob said, jerking his chin in their general direction.

"Riddle or trap?" Cassandra asked herself with a frown.

"Probably both," Flynn said, taking a step forwards, only for Eve to stop him.

"I'll check," she said loftily. "Right?"

"Left," Flynn retorted.

Eve rolled her eyes before stepping through the doorway. Instantly, the room was filled with light, revealing a large wooden horse, various marble statues, as well as the row of pearls carefully placed atop red velvet cushions. "See" - Eve began, only for an arrow to whizz past her nose, Flynn yanking her back just in time as hundreds of arrows suddenly started flying through the air, piercing the place she'd stood. "Okay," she breathed, "that was close."

"This is very familiar," Flynn reminiscenced. "Hair-raisingly familiar actually."

"So what did you do last time?" Eve asked.

"I danced," Flynn said. "Well, we danced," he amended, the memory making him wince a little. Nicole had been the first woman to hurt him, and she could still hurt him even now.

"We?" Clara said, raising an eyebrow.

"An ex of no note," Flynn said hastily, drawing her to him.

"No note?" Clara pressed.

"No note at all," Flynn said, his lips brushing her brow.

"So what do we do now?" Jacob said, only for Flynn to clamp his hand over his mouth. The first sign of silence, the arrows stopped flying, one going solo as Cassandra suddenly coughed, disturbing the stillness.

"It's sound," Flynn said, setting the arrows off again.

"So what do we do?" Jacob repeated.

"I'm going to draw the fire," Flynn said, snatching up a nearby wooden shield, before suddenly throwing himself into the fray. "Go, grab the pearl!" he yelled, running round in circles, the arrows missing him by a hair's breadth.

Before anybody could stop her, Clara was gone, hurling herself after him, hitting the ground knees first, tearing her tights as she slid across the floor, diving under the table the pearls were arrayed upon. "Which one!?" she screamed, as arrow after arrow zoomed past her. "They all look the same!"

"That's impossible," Flynn bellowed, "dragons play by the rules of the riddle. There has to be a clue!"

"The boxes are different!" Jacob boomed from the doorway.

"How?" Clara screeched.

"There's African wood carving," Jacob reeled off, "19th century Tectona grandis" -

- "You're not on the Antiques Roadshow!" Clara shrieked.

"It's the middle one!" he retorted.

Clara grabbed the middle pearl, the arrows instantly stopping, everything still and silent once again. But as she did, her eyes turned violet, awakening the monster within, resurrecting the ghost of Guinevere.

Pass the pub that wrecks your body
And the church, all they want is your money
The Queen is dead, boys
And it's so lonely on a limb...