Only recently, when those rocks fell, has a wider expanse of Earth been exposed.
We’ve stopped monsters going there, we can’t afford them to climb up on Earth and be spotted from the human lookouts embedded in the Sparkle dome.
But we did have the foresight to fit surveillance and cameras.
The fact that there has been activity is scary. What if the humans have bypassed the portals, and are coming in through here instead? They’d have to wear breathing apparatus, but it is possible.
When we finally arrive, I park a little distance from the lake, perch Tony on my shoulder and run down the last of the tunnel until it opens up to the lake. Moonlight from Earth sends beams of silver beauty into the space. The lake is calm and deep blue, the ferns and flowers around it bowing into the water, as if peering at their own reflection. A waterfall fills the lake from the far end. Everything is verdant and thriving like I’ve never seen it before.
One Moonbeam Lake, as always, is the most serene and beautiful place in the Labyrinth. I sniff the air. Earth air is a powerful force for us monsters, it can make you feel almost giddy with joy, even in the tiny amounts we enjoyed as kids here. And now, since the rock roof fell in, there is so much more of it.
I fight the feeling. I am here to investigate unusual activity, not get high from breathing Earth air.
I have one gun. Our only gun in the whole of the Labyrinth. It belongs to the sheriff and is passed down through the generations. I pull it from the holster, wondering if I’ll even be able to fire it if need be.
I detect shadowy movement in the ferns nearby.
“Who goes there?” I call out. “Show yourself.” My words echo around the cave.
Only silence answers.
“We know you’re hiding in there. Come out, or I will shoot regardless.”
More rustling of leaves.
Then a large form rises out of the bushes.
Big shoulders.
A huge torso.
A strong, wide-boned, proud head.
A mouth framed by two massive white tusks.
I drop the gun and hear it clatter on the rocks next to me, the echo filling the air before my voice joins it.
“Dad!” I croak.
If you’ve ever hugged someone who you’ve believed dead for three years, only to discover that they’re miraculously alive, you will know that your whole body and soul go into that hug.
This is how I hug my dad.
And that’s how he hugs me back. Like one risen from the dead.
And then he turns to Tony and picks the little guy up and they’re clapping each other on the back and laughing, all three of us shedding tears of joy.
Finally, when we’ve all calmed down, we sit on a rock as the first rays of sunlight beams through the hole above us.
This time I let the joy in, and breathe deeply of the intoxicating air.
It takes a while before I can get the questions out in any coherent fashion.
“What happened, Dad? Where have you been?” I ask, still unable to fathom that he is here. He looks stronger, more powerful somehow than I remember him. And if he has aged at all, it doesn’t show in his shining visage.
“For many years I have been part of a secret taskforce of white magic that formed to prepare the Labyrinth for it’s greatest battle,” he tells us both, “To stop the human authorities from taking back occupancy of Earth, and destroying our monster brethren in the process.”
“So you faked your own death?”
