Arthur and Aziel went from room to room, door to door, their confusion mounting with each impossible transition. Every doorway they passed through led to someplace unexpected, the castle's interior shifting and rearranging itself in defiance of all natural laws. If they were in the bathroom and walked into a bedroom, then turned around and went back through the door they had just come from, they wouldn't end up in the bathroom but somewhere else entirely—a library with towering bookshelves, a conservatory filled with withered plants, or a dusty study with maps spread across ancient desks.
Time passed as they wandered through the ever-changing maze. Their initial curiosity had long since given way to frustration and fear. The constant physical exertion of supporting Aziel's weight had left Arthur's muscles burning with fatigue, and Aziel's injured foot had begun bleeding again, leaving small droplets on ornate carpets and polished stone floors.
