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. “The Gypsies do not look at it like that. To them, the weapons and the woman are our payment for last night’s pleasures. Fair is fair, they think. They relieved you of what you do not need.”
The Knight glowered. “And you did nothing to stop them?”
The Gargoyle shrugged. “Why should I? What difference does it make to me what happens to the Lady or your weapons? I care for neither. In truth, you are better off without them. There is no need for weapons within the Labyrinth—only wits and patience. The Lady was a millstone about both our necks, an annoyance that no sane man should have to bear.”
“That was not your decision to make!”
“Nor did I make it.” The Gargoyle was unruffled, his ugly face lifting slightly into the light, his yellow eyes calm. “I let events take their own course and nothing more.”
“You could have warned me!”
“You could have warned yourself if you had been thinking straight. There is no mystery to Gypsies of any kind; they are the same the world over and always have been. They live by their own rules, and if you choose to drink and sing with them you accept that this is so. Consider it a lesson, Sir Knight, and let it pass.”
The Knight forced down his rage. Fear lurked just beneath, the feeling that he was losing control and could do nothing to stop it. The Lady and his weapons were gone, and he had been powerless to prevent it. Why hadn’t he seen better what might happen? Why hadn’t he taken the precautions he knew were necessary?
He breathed in deeply and looked up and down the river. “Which way did they go?” The Gargoyle did not respond, and the Knight turned on him quickly. “Do not give me reason to mistrust you further!” he snapped.
The Gargoyle held his angry gaze. “I have given you no reason ever.”
“Haven’t you?” The Knight squared himself. “When I woke in the Labyrinth, you were already there. You knew where we were; you called the Labyrinth by name. You said that there was no way out, before anyone else had even mentioned it. When we reached that town and we were told of the Haze, you knew the story. The counterman identified you as a monster that preceded its coming. Last night, when we came upon the River Gypsies, you knew who they were when the Lady and I did not. You seem to know a great deal about a place which you do not claim to come from. I cannot help but wonder what cause you serve in all of this.”
The Gargoyle stared at the Knight, and for a long moment he said nothing. “You have cause to be suspicious, I suppose,” he replied finally, reluctantly. “I would be suspicious as well, were I you. It must seem as if I am duplicitous. But I am not. What I know comes from living for a very long time and having been to a great many places. I have acquired knowledge for which I can no longer name the source. I remember things that I heard about or discovered centuries ago. I am very old. Once, as the River Gypsy said, there were many of my kind. Now there is only me in all the world.”
He paused, as if reflecting. “This place and those who live here and the things that happen within are familiar to me, known from another time, one for which my memory has long since been erased. I sense, as well, some of what will be. I know this place; I recognize it. I anticipate some events. But I am not from here, and I am not sure I have ever visited before.” The Gargoyle scowled. “It bothers me that this is so. My memory is quite fragmented, and I confess that nothing of my previous life is clear to me anymore. Save,” he added darkly, “that I am no longer who or what I was.”