Page 83 of Garden of Lies

“There are times, sir, when I suspect that you take satisfaction in your reputation for eccentricity. I expect you get your melodramatic tendencies from your mother.”

He smiled. “Now there’s an unnerving thought.”

He stopped in front of the door of the labyrinth chamber and selected the key on the iron ring. When he got the door open, he stood back to allow her to enter the room.

She walked a few steps into the chamber and set the lantern on the small table. He watched her study the intricate pattern of blue tiles on the floor.

“It’s an elaborate labyrinth,” she said after a moment. “Not a maze.”

“Walking the path helps me clarify my thoughts. I find that if I begin with a question, the answer is sometimes waiting at the end.”

“This is what you learned on Fever Island?” she asked.

“An aspect of what I learned, yes.”

“How do you perform this walking meditation?”

“There’s no trick to it,” he said. “You compose a question and then you just start walking. Concentrate on each step. Don’t think too far ahead and don’t think about where you have been. But consider closely how one step leads to another. Contemplate connections and links. Immerse yourself in the pattern.”

She took a tentative step forward and stopped on the first blue tile. “You said something about starting with a question.”

“Do you have one?”

She thought about that, a faint, secretive smile edging her lips. “Yes, I do have a question.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

She glanced at him, tilted her head slightly as though contemplating her answer. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t think so. Not yet.”

“Will you tell me if you find the answer at the other end of the path?”

“Perhaps.” She started walking the labyrinth, concentrating intently. “One step at a time, correct?”

“Yes.”

He was so fascinated by her aura of seriousness that it was a moment or two before he realized that he was still standing at the entrance—just standing there, watching her. He could watch her all night. Forever, if necessary.

A question whispered through his mind.

He followed Ursula into the labyrinth.

They walked the path in silence. He was careful to keep a few paces behind. If he got any closer he would be able to touch her and that would shatter the meditative trance. If he touched her again he would kiss her and if he kissed her he would want to sweep her out of the pattern and take her upstairs to bed.

Usually he never noticed the time once he started the journey. The ritual was so familiar and his mind was so in tune with the technique required to navigate the path that he was able to forget the factor of time. But tonight, walking behind Ursula, the dragon claws of impatience tore ragged holes in his control. Indeed, he wondered if he might go a little mad before they arrived at the center of the labyrinth.

With one last step, she entered the circle of knowing. She closed her eyes and went very still. He waited, centering himself as he did before starting the martial arts exercises that were the physical extension of the mental exercises.

She opened her eyes. He could not abide the suspense.

“Will you tell me your question now?” he asked.

She glanced briefly back at the entrance to the labyrinth and then she fixed her attention on him once more.

“I’m afraid my question was not particularly philosophical or intellectual in nature,” she said. “It was, in fact, a rather simple, mundane question.”

“Did you find the answer?”

The secretive smile danced in her eyes. “As to that, I’m still waiting.”