Page 51 of A Mother for the Blind Duke’s Orphans

“Un…Uncle?”

“Yes.”

“I—I d…do not know where—” Her voice hitched. “I do not know w…where I am.”

“I know.” He kept his tone even, as if they discussed nothing more troubling than the weather. “That is the maze’s favorite trick.”

“It d-doesn’t like me.”

Hector followed the sound of her voice along a hedge.

“No. It likes you very much. That is why it is making such a fuss. You know you are almost at the center?” he spoke calmly to her, listening intently.

“What i…is at t…the center?” Aurora’s voice sounded closer.

“Well, you would have to find it yourself and find out. But the center is my favorite place to be at, and I do not mind sharing it with you.”

He took three careful steps forward. The path curved, and the sound of her breathing shifted nearer. She was on the other side of the bend, close but not visible to him.

“H…h…how can I g…get there?” she asked.

Hector smiled. He was proud that she did not give up and wanted to find the center on her own.

“Can you hear my voice?” he asked.

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Then you are not lost. Lost means no one can find you, and I have found you.”

She drew in another shaky breath. “But I c…c…cannot see you.”

“You will see me soon, I promise. Now listen to me carefully,” he said. “Do not run. Running makes the maze think it has won. I am going to lift my cane.” He lifted the cane above his head. “You may see it above the hedge if you look carefully. It will show you where I am.”

Aurora remained silent.

“Do you see it?” he asked.

A sniff. “I—I think so.”

“Good, now walk toward it slowly and keep one hand out on the right side of the hedge.”

He heard her small feet move just as the duchess’s voice sounded again, more distant than before and threaded through the maze.

“Aurora!”

Aurora made a small, distressed noise and began to hurry.

“Slowly,” Hector said firmly. “The duchess is looking for you too. That is good, but you are closer to me.”

He kept the cane raised though his arm had begun to ache. The top of her head appeared first as a pale, moving blur beneath the line of hedge; then the small shape of her body emerged into the passage before him. To Hector she was mostly motion and outline, a little figure in a dress whose details he could not catch, face lifted toward the cane as though it were a banner on a battlefield.

“There she is!” he called out to her. “You have done it!”

She crossed the last few feet at a run.

He lowered the cane just in time, bracing himself as Aurora flung both arms around his legs and held on with all the force in her small body. A sob broke out of her then, as if she had postponed it until safety made it permissible.

Hector stood very still.