To ensure the secrets of the great maze stayed locked away forever.” —The Legend of Ariadne “I am very disheartened to hear about the Trolls.” I rubbed my eyes. We’d been on the phone with Devon and General Wells for the better part of a half hour, detailing our experiences since I’d last spoken with him at the Bookworm camp. Millie, the plump matron who’d run the little diner for nearly two centuries, refilled my coffee while waitresses decked in poodle skirts and roller skates brought food to everyone. Easily the best place in the Underground for chow, the diner looked like something out of the bobbysocks era, complete with Formica countertops and a jukebox in the corner. Normally packed to the gills with customers, it was unnerving to see it so empty. Still, something about the presence of the owner and her wheeled employees calmed me. The coffee helped, too. It warmed my hands and I gave her a grateful smile.
