it myself.”
He looked disgusted with her. “Tcha! Of all the headstrong numbskulls I ever came across …”
Sarah dangled the bracelet before his eyes. “Fair deal,” she offered. “No strings. One bracelet. Hmm? How about it?”
The bracelet danced in her hand, and his eyes were dancing with it. Grudgingly he asked, “What is this, anyway?”
“Plastic.”
His eyes shone. Then he raised his stumpy arm for Sarah to put the bracelet onto his wrist. He looked at it there and could not conceal his pride. “I don’t promise nothing,” he said. “But” — he grunted resignedly — “I’ll take you as far as I can. Then you’re on your own. Right?”
“Right,” Sarah agreed.
He nodded. His eyes were still shining as he looked at the bracelet on his wrist. “Plastic!” he murmured, thrilled.
“Come on, then,” Sarah urged him.
Hoggle sprang into action. He seized the heavy wooden bench and, with a strength Sarah wouldn’t have suspected in his small and round-shouldered body, he upended it so that the seat was flat against the wall. Sarah was surprised to see two doorknobs on the underside of the seat, one on the left and one on the right, and she was disconcerted when Hoggle turned one knob and the seat became a door into the stone wall. That’s not fair, she thought. With a mischievous grin — because he was enjoying himself, showing off to the young miss — Hoggle walked through the doorway.
She was about to follow him when she heard a crashing and clattering. Broomsticks and buckets fell out of the doorway into the oubliette. She grinned, recognizing the old broom-closet joke.
“Oh, damn!” she heard Hoggle say, within the cupboard. He came out backward, and avoided her eye as he thrust the brooms and buckets back inside and closed the door.
Still sheepish, he grasped the other doorknob. “Can’t be right all the time, can we?” he muttered. This time, he opened the door rather less boldly. He peered through. “This is it,” he told her. “Come on, then.”
She followed him into a dimly lit corridor with walls of grotesquely carved rock.
They were working their way along the corridor when a voice boomed, “DON’T GO ON!”
Sarah jumped violently, and looked all around her. She saw no one, except Hoggle. And then she realized: carved in the stone wall was a mouth. Standing back from it, she saw that the mouth was part of a huge face. Similar faces lined both sides of the corridor. As she and Hoggle passed them, each intoned a deeply resonant message.
“Go back while you still can!”
“This is not the way!”
“Take heed and go no farther!”
“Beware! Beware!”
“It will soon be too late!”
Sarah put her hands over her ears. The warnings seemed to be echoing inside her head.
Hoggle, bustling onward, looked around to see where she had gone to, and saw her standing. “Pah.” He waved his hand. “Don’t take no notice of them. They’re just Phony-Warnings. You get a lot like them in the Labyrinth. It means you’re on the right track.”
“Oh, no, you’re not,” a face boomed.
“Do shut up,” Hoggle snapped back at it.
“Sorry, sorry,” the face said. “Only doing me job.”
“Well, you don’t need to do it to us,” Hoggle answered, and led the way on down the passage.
The face watched them go. “Shrewd cookies,” it murmured appreciatively.
The passageway twisted and turned, but on the whole Sarah had the impression that they were moving forward, if such a direction existed in the Labyrinth, and she felt encouraged. They passed another carved face.
“Oh, beware!” the face declaimed. “For —”
“Don’t bother.” Hoggle flapped his hand dismissively.
“Oh, please,” the face begged. “I haven’t said it for such a long time. You’ve no idea what it’s like, stuck here in this wall, and with —”
“All right,” Hoggle told it. “But don’t expect us to take any notice.”
The face brightened up. “Oh, no, of course
He looked disgusted with her. “Tcha! Of all the headstrong numbskulls I ever came across …”
Sarah dangled the bracelet before his eyes. “Fair deal,” she offered. “No strings. One bracelet. Hmm? How about it?”
The bracelet danced in her hand, and his eyes were dancing with it. Grudgingly he asked, “What is this, anyway?”
“Plastic.”
His eyes shone. Then he raised his stumpy arm for Sarah to put the bracelet onto his wrist. He looked at it there and could not conceal his pride. “I don’t promise nothing,” he said. “But” — he grunted resignedly — “I’ll take you as far as I can. Then you’re on your own. Right?”
“Right,” Sarah agreed.
He nodded. His eyes were still shining as he looked at the bracelet on his wrist. “Plastic!” he murmured, thrilled.
“Come on, then,” Sarah urged him.
Hoggle sprang into action. He seized the heavy wooden bench and, with a strength Sarah wouldn’t have suspected in his small and round-shouldered body, he upended it so that the seat was flat against the wall. Sarah was surprised to see two doorknobs on the underside of the seat, one on the left and one on the right, and she was disconcerted when Hoggle turned one knob and the seat became a door into the stone wall. That’s not fair, she thought. With a mischievous grin — because he was enjoying himself, showing off to the young miss — Hoggle walked through the doorway.
She was about to follow him when she heard a crashing and clattering. Broomsticks and buckets fell out of the doorway into the oubliette. She grinned, recognizing the old broom-closet joke.
“Oh, damn!” she heard Hoggle say, within the cupboard. He came out backward, and avoided her eye as he thrust the brooms and buckets back inside and closed the door.
Still sheepish, he grasped the other doorknob. “Can’t be right all the time, can we?” he muttered. This time, he opened the door rather less boldly. He peered through. “This is it,” he told her. “Come on, then.”
She followed him into a dimly lit corridor with walls of grotesquely carved rock.
They were working their way along the corridor when a voice boomed, “DON’T GO ON!”
Sarah jumped violently, and looked all around her. She saw no one, except Hoggle. And then she realized: carved in the stone wall was a mouth. Standing back from it, she saw that the mouth was part of a huge face. Similar faces lined both sides of the corridor. As she and Hoggle passed them, each intoned a deeply resonant message.
“Go back while you still can!”
“This is not the way!”
“Take heed and go no farther!”
“Beware! Beware!”
“It will soon be too late!”
Sarah put her hands over her ears. The warnings seemed to be echoing inside her head.
Hoggle, bustling onward, looked around to see where she had gone to, and saw her standing. “Pah.” He waved his hand. “Don’t take no notice of them. They’re just Phony-Warnings. You get a lot like them in the Labyrinth. It means you’re on the right track.”
“Oh, no, you’re not,” a face boomed.
“Do shut up,” Hoggle snapped back at it.
“Sorry, sorry,” the face said. “Only doing me job.”
“Well, you don’t need to do it to us,” Hoggle answered, and led the way on down the passage.
The face watched them go. “Shrewd cookies,” it murmured appreciatively.
The passageway twisted and turned, but on the whole Sarah had the impression that they were moving forward, if such a direction existed in the Labyrinth, and she felt encouraged. They passed another carved face.
“Oh, beware!” the face declaimed. “For —”
“Don’t bother.” Hoggle flapped his hand dismissively.
“Oh, please,” the face begged. “I haven’t said it for such a long time. You’ve no idea what it’s like, stuck here in this wall, and with —”
“All right,” Hoggle told it. “But don’t expect us to take any notice.”
The face brightened up. “Oh, no, of course
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