A few steps in and the maze was cool and dark. The sky was still visible above the ten-foot walls, but the potential route to freedom was an illusion. Any attempt to scale the walls would be met with thorns. Very big thorns. Any attempt to use ladders or something similar would rapidly have the tools stolen by the same plants, and more thorns. The same happened if you tried to mark the walls or leave a trail; the maze absorbed it.

Riddle didn't like it when you cheated.

But Plague had to have a plan for that.

“Sasha, take point.”

That made a certain amount of sense; in here my range would be limited unless I wanted to shoot through my allies. Putting me in front to deal with enemies coming, or behind to deal with enemies trying to back-stab were the only two options.

Behind me, Plague plunged a knife into the ground, carving an arrow into the dirt; observing the formalities, I supposed. At least it was better than the spray paint attempt. I covered the front and Plague tapped me the direction she wanted me to go. We didn't speak.

It didn't take long for us to be completely lost, even with the 'always left' trick. That was pretty much to be expected. What wasn't expected was the complete lack of any efforts to kill us. For hours. The only other motion beside us was leaves in the wind.

I had resorted to bubble gum since there were no asses to kick. Dustin getting angry at my loudly popping blown bubbles was a nice bonus.

Even making noise, nothing jumped out to die.

There were birds here and there, perching on the vines. Too bad they were vultures.

It took hours to find the center, which told me Plague at least knew a little of what she was doing – or Riddle was bored and helping us.

The center was large; it had to be to hold all the townspeople we were searching for. They were huddling and gathered around a wooden stage. The wooden stage that Riddle was on, holding a blade to what could only be our informant. Behind the informant were five headless corpses, rotting in the sunlight while the vultures looked on.

Riddle was tall and very thin, with tangled brown hair that resembled her vines and some visible facial scars. She looked a bit like a model from the last century – after the drugs and a hundred miles of hard road. She was also spattered with mud and her dress was ripped in places.

“Ah, right on time, fearless hunters!” The informant opened his mouth, to yell probably, and Riddle slit his throat and kicked him off the stage in a spray of blood.

I guess her arm got tired while she waited on us.

For whatever reason, though, it was a mistake because it left me clear. I drew and opened up, putting six shots toward her center of mass before she was even completely clear of the body.

They were all blocked by suddenly rampant plant growth, erupting from the stage itself. I cracked the gun and reloaded while Riddle laughed and the others charged. The good townsfolk ran as one away from the stage but stopped short of the exits and walls.

“Let's play a game, mighty hunters!”

Riddle feinted left and dodged right, barely avoiding a javelin and a whip extended her direction.

“Escort the town back home. Succeed, and you get to keep them! Fail, and they are mine!” She floated back into the vines as our attacks converged, and vanished from sight.

So, the same game she always wanted to play, pretty much. Just with more people this time; usually she only took hunters hostage.

Usually she killed her victims outright, and we only found out later that it was her from the signs and dead vegetation she left behind.

The way we came closed itself off, of course, and grew thorns as long as my forearm. The other way out stayed open.

“Ivan, Sylvie, Alicia, Deisel, get the civilians up and moving.” Plague stated, turning her attention to the West wall as she motioned Dustin and I close. I faced East as I moved, and Dustin looked North, away from the rest of the team.

“What do you think?” Plague asked softly once we were close enough.

I replied first. “I think she's in her game mode. If she was at all serious, the hostages would have already been dead. This was something to draw hunters out.”

“She's going to play fair, at least as much as she ever plays fair. The way out was premade.” Dustin added.

Plague nodded slightly. “That's what I think too. We will have to split up, though, to cover the hostages, if we decide to play her game. She can pick us off at will then.”

“If we don't split up, we will have to leave the hostages and try to corner her.” Dustin mused.

It was highly unlikely we could corner Riddle; none had before. She could simply vanish into her maze and cover more ground, trapping us with thorns, spikes, and pits all the while. I took a look at the hostages; I could tell at a glance they had been here days, even if I hadn't known from the briefing. Gaunt and with the beginnings of illness spreading through them, they had been waiting for us. It was unlikely they would wait and sit still while we left to track Riddle, even if Riddle would leave them alone while we tried.

“Be on your guard. Sasha, you'll be point. I'll be second, and Dustin you'll be behind me. I'll go give the rest their assignments.” I stopped Plague with a hand and shoved my small bag at her.

“Food and water from the town. I just happened across the stuff. Give it to whoever you think is worst off; anyone too sick or dehydrated to keep up could kill us all.”

Plague gave me a searching look and I shrugged. I still had my own stuff; I wouldn't risk my own long term combat effectiveness.

Plague went to talk things out, while I took my position near the 'exit'. As point, it was my job to watch this direction and the portal for threats. Dustin followed me a bit – he looked like he had something on his mind. Whatever it was, he didn't speak of it before Plague came back and took up position. The townspeople were slower at it, of course.

“Range?” I asked Plague, already dreading the answer as the broken scarecrows shuffled up behind me.

“Close.” She replied, confirming what I thought. Normally the job of point required me to range far ahead of my team, but with Riddle the past encounters were clear; we stuck very close, or we got very separated.

How any of us were supposed to just keep random thorns from skewering people as they walked past I didn't really know.

As we set off, the villagers in single file behind me close enough to touch, relying solely on Riddle's mercy seemed to be the plan – and it seemed to be working.

“And who are you, young lady? Which hunter?”

I didn't see any reason not to answer. “Sasha Norre.”

“The m..marksman?” the speaker stuttered out. He was an older gentleman, large and well built, balding and all the more worse for wear after having been starved for days. I could smell traces of oil on him, not too different than my own stuff.

“That's what they call me,” I told him. One little glance back was all he got; my eyes had to be front.

“So, Plague, the Trident, and you... all for us. We are in good hands, it seems.”

I couldn't deny that; Dustin Plague and I were a lot of named firepower in one place. “The best available. It may not help with Riddle; she's going to target you and yours first I think.”

No real sense giving them false hope.

“I know,” He replied, quietly. “The mayor and the town council are back there. Supposedly the witch used their heads to mark the exits - after interrogating them of course. We don't think she got what she was after there. Plague wouldn't even let us bury them.”

I could understand his feelings but now wasn't the time. “Honestly, no time to waste on that. Riddle will leave the bodies alone and go after the living. Assuming any of us survive, you can always come back; your friends have waited a few days, they can stand to wait a few more.”

He could come back for the five in the square, and whoever else we lost. We needed to get out or kill Riddle before we died of thirst.

Plague had already gone over the plan with me. Two lefts and a right, two lefts, and a right; that way it would be easy of us to backtrack if we needed to. Sylvie was to write the turns down just in case. We would find out in a hurry if Riddle was playing this straight.

Nothing happened the first left or the second; not so much as a twitch in the vegetation. The first right, however, there were shouts behind us. I almost took that extra step; the one that would allow vines to shoot in behind me, cutting me off. They didn't so much as twitch.

Word came from up the line, whispered from one person to the next. The smith delivered the verdict to me, leaning over as if to mouth who he was crushing on. “One dead, impaled from by vines. Supposedly he stepped too close to the walls; far back of the line, but not the end of it.”

I nodded to show I understood and took the right.

A click and I was diving back; something flashed in front of me and cloth ripped.

Riddle had been busy; a blade trap had sprung up from perfectly normal looking ground, triggered by my foot on a pressure plate. The blade wobbled back and forth, glinting in the sun. The blade had missed my leg but cut a neat slit in the front of my skirt. I guess I couldn't just stroll along anymore.

I passed the word back. “Beware, traps are set in the paths.”

I'd only taken a few steps into the right-hand path when the answer came back in the form of a collapsible rod that most hunters packed in order to probe for traps, magical or otherwise. I normally didn't bother, but I took it this time, unpacked it, and started in with my best blind guy impression.

I was pretty sure a real blind guy could do it better, but the next trap didn't make it to my clothes, so it was a bonus.

The little extra focus on making my clothes do what they were supposed to do was draining. But good practice I suppose. I still wasn't too keen on risking a leg, though; sure the uniform worked for female hunters, but they had a generator powering theirs.

A whisper, and I was jumping back; I barely managed to get the smith to take that all important step back before the spiked log breezed by. It scraped my jacket but didn't damage it.

I hadn't hit a trigger or a trip line that time; I was willing to bet my life on it.

We both remained upright. “You're too solid for your own good, even after your diet. Next time I try to save our lives, have the decency to go down.”

He gave me a shaky ghost of a grin. “Sure, next time.”

I strode forward; there was no doubt that Riddle knew where we were. Where she was, was anyone's guess, but it was safe to say she knew everything going on inside the maze. Or at least, safe to assume it.

Left, left, and right. By the time I got to the second right the pole was more the size of a pencil, and I couldn't do my awesome tapping thing anymore.

I could still do the gun thing, though.

“Sasha! What in hell are you doing?” Plague yelled, storming past the civilians behind me just as I put another shot into a likely place.

I tossed her pole at her; she caught it with ease. “Checking for traps. This thing is pretty useless now.”

Why was Plague scrubbing her face? This wasn't the time for a loss of vision! She looked to the heavens and ground out: “Checking for traps. With your guns.”

“Well, yeah. All life's problems can be solved with guns.”

She crossed her arms and stared. “What about being hungry, or cold?”

Pfft, easy stuff. “Shoot something and eat it. And if you're cold, shooting a gun makes it warm up.”

“Tired and thirsty?” She asked.

“Gunfire wakes you up like nothing else can; it gets the heart racing. And thirst? Dig a well.”

“Dig a well?” Plague questioned. “With guns?”

“My guns can dig wells just fine. I've done it before; Ivan can vouch for me there.”

Plague nodded slowly. “What about love? No, you know what, never mind.”

I pulled my two empties and reloaded. Plague strode back to her place, grumbling. How dare she question my awesome philosophy of life with her petty concerns. That's right baby, you and me against the world....

“Excuse me – are you hugging your gun?” The smith asked.

“No,” I replied, holstering it.

“Oh, that's good then.” He looked a little green, had he seen something sneaking up on me?

I whirled but there was nothing. Not a single leaf out of place. I saw Plague gave the signal to move from the corner of my eye. With a shrug I complied, trying to keep the gunfire down to a minimum by shooting out the traps I knew were there. I could only do so much after all, even if the citizens were all being babies about the noise.

Another series of turns, another right, and another curve thrown at us. The pit trap was almost laughably easy to spot, which made me wary; but there really was nothing around it. No tripwires, no pressure plates, no other weird triggers; just a pit with actual spikes at the bottom and covered up by fresh vegetation that matched the walls.

That was the real trap of course. Try to jump over that pit, the vines would come alive and drag you into it and the waiting spikes.

It wasn't too far to jump across, for someone who was fit. That left quite a few of the people behind me out, even if I was fast enough to make it, so I called a stop.

This time when Plague made her way up, she was all business. “What have we got?”

I waved a hand. “Take a look. I don't like it at all.”

She took the area in, clucking her tongue after only a second. “Yes, I see what you mean. What are our options?”

I didn't have any. After all, we lacked a stone bridge, wood would be chancy, and this wasn't the sort of thing you threw a coat over. “I was kind of hoping you had some.”

“Going back. We can't risk the civilians.”

I wasn't a fan of going back.

“No Sasha put the gun away.”

“But we can just climb past the hole and....”

“No. So far it's going well. If you damage the maze, you know what will happen.”

She turned to the smith and the quiet scarecrow behind him. “Spread the word, we are going back. Tell Sylvie she is now point and to lead us back and left once, then right again. Same order after that, left left right.”

Then she turned back to me. “Just watch our butts awhile Sasha. No need to take chances here yet.”

I nodded. She was right, after all, we had a couple days at least before things went totally south.

I fell into step behind the smith and walked headfirst into a curtain of vines, with no thorns.

“So, who are you really and why are you helping them?”

I looked down to where Riddle was, laying down right on the trail coated in her own vines and liberally coated with dirt. It was a good look for her. I took a cautious step back, away from the new wall before I responded.

“Well, if you heard enough to ask with a really thrown in there, then you already know my name is Sasha.”

The dirty witch snorted at me. “Please. I may not be the most up to date, but even I know of Sasha Norre, the maniacal marksman. And while you look like a Norre, Sasha is just a guy that looks like a girl. Not a girl, and not a witch – and you honey, from this angle? It's clear you aren't a guy.”

Well, that was a little disconcerting. I shrugged at her to deflect. “Crap happened. If you want, I can prove it.”

I drew on her; guns solve every problem.

With a laugh she faded into the ground, the vines completely covering her before I could shoot more than once; she was fast. I looked up to find the vines in front of me gone, and everyone looking back at me.

Hm, how to play this... I shrugged again. “What? I thought I saw something.”

Plague hid her face again. “Damn it, Sasha....”

I looked down again to inspect the damage. One of my least powerful shots, but the crater dug by the bullet was easily something that could blow a hole in a chest... or blow the entire torso off. It was almost a grave by itself, a hole about 2 feet deep and four to five feet around. That was very odd and pushing it. Had I somehow put too much power into the rounds or something? No, too much power and the rounds would likely explode; not something I wanted to have happen while the bullets were on me.

And that was after impacting the vines Riddle used... something was clearly up.

I rushed back into place. Nope, nothing to see here, situation normal. But it did give me an idea... a brilliant idea. Something to fall back on if I had to. A slight backtrack and we were off again; I wasn't so sure Sylvie should be point, but she was trained at least.

The slight backtrack led us to another square, somehow. The maze seemed bigger on the inside. There was a small burble of creek fed water here, and our charges rushed toward it. Dustin Ivan and Sylvie got in front and did what they could.

Another point to me; I shot my arrow in the air (so to speak) and nothing blocked it.

It stopped the stampede at least; everyone turned to me, wide-eyed. Probably expecting me to be battling a witch.

“Let the Hunt check to see if the water is safe, first.”

The citizens reluctantly backed away from the small stream. Sylvie stepped up to it to do her job.

A simple test revealed so many different natural poisons laced into the water it was a surprise the stuff wasn't smoking... or actually on fire.

We gathered the civilians up in the center and huddled. Before Plague got started I made sure she understood one thing by tapping the grass below me with a foot.

“Assume she can hear anything we say. So, what's the plan?”

“I'll let you know. Daylight is fading, and I'm not sure we want to be fumbling around in the dark. See if you can spot anything questionable here, but don't get too close to the walls.”

I went off to check for traps like a good little soldier... but I wasn't fond of the idea of staying the night here. A prolonged stay meant a watch in an area where everything was all set to kill us, which meant a sleepless night. Then it meant the civilians, who had just hiked for a couple hours and who weren't in the best of shape, waiting and hopefully sleeping, but getting worse with a source of water they could hear right next to them.

Wait long enough and even a few of their dead surrounding that stream wouldn't be enough to deter them. And that's before they start seeing crap that ain't there. And after that little consideration, there was the food issue. I wasn't sharing anymore, not until I was certain we were out, and having such a stash might be hard for some starving people to understand.

Yeah, I didn't want to stay here anymore. It might be time for my idea before I had to try and fight in the dark.

Plague would never go for it, though, and neither would the rest of the hunters. Waiting until most were trying to sleep wasn't really an option, much as I wanted to. Anything I did would have an audience. I didn't really want to offer Plague a surprise, but with Riddle listening, I'd have to. Well, maybe not entirely.

I moved close, cutting off as much sight as possible while signaling I had a plan. “I have a plan.”

It was best to cover the real conversation with a fake one. I could switch back and forth and do some real planning with both, as long as Plague caught on.

I think she did. Plague closed in too, hands flashing. “Is it like your normal plans?”

Of course it was. She knew me, after all. “Nah, this one involves fewer explosions.”

“Alright, what is it?”

“I say we blast our way out using our dynamite. That stream has to come up from somewhere.” I was our dynamite, and I was suggesting going off with a short fuse.

“You do realize the stream is poisonous, right?”

“Only if you drink it, and only if you're a wimp.” Yes Plague, of course, it was going to be big.

“I don't think the stream is the right approach.”

I nodded to Ivan. He would help me confirm where.

Ivan strode up. “What's this, another one of Sasha's plans? Can I just disapprove, on general principles?”

I gestured up with my left hand and his eyebrows lifted. “You can if you're a wimp”

I had to gesture again, with both hands, before he finally did it. We'd be talking about this later, because if this was a trust issue, I'm putting on pointy boots just to kick him with.

Ivan lunged, and threw me up; I flew.

This close to the center of the clearing, the vines would take seconds to reach me if Riddle was watching, and that gave me seconds to determine where the maze was weakest. Not the true path; that would change on a whim – but the direction with the fewest walls between us and the outside. I had a good second of air time, Ivan had outdone himself.

And there it was; to the West there were only seven sets of walls between us and the outside. I hit the ground a second before the vines closed in, a rampant vaulted ceiling sealing us all in the dark. The rest of the hunt were already popping flares and scattering as the vines closed up, just in case. I hit the ground and rolled.

I oriented and drew my Eagle just as the first civilian screamed. Something made me switch to a section of wall two feet over, and I let fly, putting as much charge into the shot as I dared.

The world lit up with searing light, the blast spewing forth from my Eagle a white-hot bar in reality that lasted several seconds. When it was done I blinked my eyes clear to look.

I could see daylight; the blast had gone through every wall. It might have even kept going. The vines around the holes made were twitching, but not growing back.

Plague took charge. “Everyone, go!” She led the way to the gap as I fired again, closing my eyes this time.

When I opened them there gap was twice as wide, and might even be safe – at least if Riddle was asleep or something.

Turns out she was. By the time the civilian train left the station, the vines hadn't even begun to grow back, which was a good thing. I would have been hard pressed to look for another shot that someone wasn't in the way of, even with everyone ducking off right in an attempt to give me one.

The civilians made it through in record time, and I moved to follow when finally Riddle made her move; the last wall moved to cut me off and I lost the race.

That was just fine with me, I didn't even need to switch hands; there was no pain at all.

I snapped the Eagle up and aimed away from the previous shots when a voice, plaintive and slightly pained, hit my ears.

“Don't go just yet.”

I stopped and turned; there, embedded in the wall, was Riddle. She looked even more worse for wear than she did swimming in dirt – and people were probably going to be calling her “righty” as a new nickname. She raised her lone arm as I switched aim, profiling to make sure everyone else was out of the line of fire. There was just enough smoke to make it hard to see how well I'd done with that.

“Peace!” She yelled or tried to. It came out barely above a hoarse whisper. Her eyes were glazing over... shock?

“What do you want, witch?”

She coughed; apparently smoke got to her too. “I accept now that you are Sasha Norre. No one else save the maniacal marksman could wield weapons like those in such a way. You cannot be an impostor; so what happened to you? How are you able to channel such power? How are your guns able to stop my vines? How were you able to see my familiar?”

Only one answer to that. “The dead don't need to know the secrets of the living.”

She sighed. “I see. So it's a race then?”

I nodded.

She was fast. I was faster; she didn't win.

I walked out as the vines that had just started to grow back into place began melting; the slime they were turning into was familiar from past scenes. However, they didn't mention the smell. That was alright I guess – no one else would have to deal with it.

It took several minutes before I could fish the hat out of the mess. I handed it to Plague with a “Mission accomplished. Also, smith guy.”

“Derrick,” he answered.

Yeah, whatever. “Fine, Derrick. The water around here is probably still poisonous. I wouldn't touch any of it that wasn't sealed if I were you.”

I pointed to several of the civilians, who were even now, sneaking through the slime field in order to try the water.

“Right. Alright you lot, you heard the little lady! You want to drink, you want to eat?!? back to town, now!”

He had a good roar; I didn't know if he was actually in charge, or just yelled really loudly, but either way should work.

“You alright Sasha? Your eye is twitching.” Ivan asked. He was not amused, because if he was amused I'd have to kill him.

My eye wasn't twitching at being called a little lady. Nope, nothing like that had happened at all.

“Sasha, with me.” Plague was twisting Riddle's hat in her hands but she met my eyes.

I followed as she led the way out, along my Eagle's blast path.

It was interesting. Three shots and my wrist and arm weren't broken. The gun hadn't even kicked back. A glance showed why; the handle was empty of a magazine. When had that happened? It was loaded this morning. I knew I had been forcing my own power into the gun, but I thought it had ammo inside it at the time when it was just my own power.

“You hit her.”

“I hit her.”

“How did you know she was there?”

Great, Plague thought I was sandbagging again. “I didn't. It was a lucky guess. She stopped me when we turned around and asked me who I was. I noticed she was hanging out inside the vines, so I thought she could be inside the walls too, to listen to us.”

For all I knew she could have been listening to us by listening through the grass.

“Alright, and how did you fire the Eagle like that?”

I shrugged. “I just did. I pushed power into the gun the same way I did the bullets yesterday; I'm just glad it worked.”

Since I was my own generator now, instead of drawing a set amount of power to load into bullets, I did it all myself and managed the process myself.

“You haven't been hearing anything?”

Oh, here we go. “No, I haven't. I've no desire to gun you down just because. Dustin is Dustin, so no promises there.”

“Alright. Let's go make sure the townsfolk don't kill themselves.”

We headed back; at least I hadn't hit anything important with the shots I fired... a swath through some fields, taking the top off a hill a mile or so away, a few power line poles, but no houses as far as I could see.

“Sure.”

When we got back, most of the citizens were starting the hike – except the ones taking the heads and bodies of the fallen down to bury.