The letter indicated a side entrance of the opera house. Alphonse and I had gotten an early start and after a hearty breakfast at a nearby Japanese bakery, we tried the door. It swung open and allowed us in. There was a spiral staircase leading up. We ascended the stairs and walked down a hallway. The paths and rooms here were a maze by themselves, long and winded and very hard to understand. We immediately missed the red book, but the letter indicated that the correct path was outlined by yellow arrows and indeed, whenever we were unsure about the direction we should be going, there was an arrow helping us along.

We passed several stairs, rooms and one hallway after the other, turning left, right and sometimes walking downstairs again. Finally we arrived at a stage door. We opened it and found ourselves in a room that seemed familiar.

It was the rehearsal stage we saw back when we stepped through Baudelaire’s wardrobe. And just as back then, there were the Olympians, dressed in white robes.

“Welcome, seekers!”

I waved and Alphonse said “Well, technically, we are no longer seekers, we have found the minotaur after all.”

“Indeed,” the chairman said, “that’s why you are here.”

He pulled a cloth of two cushions, each bearing a golden laurel wreath.

“Oh, how wonderfully old school,” Alphonse quibbed.

The Olympians gave him a stern look, to which he replied, “Sorry, I don’t mean that in a bad way… it’s great, what an honour, thank you!”

They put the wreaths on our heads and then we had a drink, a toast. And then came what was probably inevitable.

“Have you decided yet?” asked the chairman.

I shrugged, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Alphonse kicked me.

“Of course you know. Think!”

“Oh… Oh… you mean, whether we want to join you? Like Baudelaire did?”

The chairman nodded.

“What exactly… would that entail?” I asked.

“You would have to swear an oath to help seekers along. To let them suffer through the things that they have to suffer through alone. To show them guidance where needed. To deliver messages, if necessary.”

“Mmmh.”

“Before you decide, there are probably two people you would like to meet.”

A door at the back of the stage opened, a blue jacket ran towards me and gave me a hug. It was Peter.

Behind him there was Mr. Whoolster.

“Sirs, I’m glad that you made it – and in one piece!”

We shook hands with him.

“They just asked us whether we would like to join the Olympians.” Alphonse said.

Peter grinned at me.

“What are you so cheerful about?” I asked.

“Well, that would mean, that we can see you more often…”

“I don’t know, do you meet Baudelaire often?”

“Who?”

“He’s one of the Olympians too.”

The boy frowned and he lost the cheerful smile. I felt a little bad for crushing his hopes like that. So I quickly added: “But I can visit you two, if you like.”

“Oh yes, I would like that very much!” he shouted.

“So would I, Sirs!” said Mr. Whoolster.

I looked at Alphonse.

“What do you think?”

“I think,” he said, “I would like to know one thing before I decide.”

He turned to the chairman and asked: “Do all seekers eventually conquer their fears? Do they all defeat the minotaur?”

The chairman shook his head. “No, they don’t.”

“What happens to those who don’t?”

“Best case: they return to their old life. They still do their chores, they still work their jobs, they still pay their taxes. But their hopes of a better life have died. They think they deserve the cards they’ve been dealt, no matter how bad.”

“You said ‘best case’. What’s the worst?”

“They break.”

“You mean, they die?”
“No. Their minds break. They end up at a mental facility.”

Alphonse nodded. He had been close to experiencing just that.

“Isn’t that inhumane? Why should we support that?”

The chairman laughed.

“That, the minotaur? That is just a visualisation. People get caught up in their fears anyway. And some are driven out of their minds anyway. We don’t cause that. We help people find their way through their own fear. It’s sad when they don’t make it, but they went on the quest out of their own free will, like you did. Yes, the stakes are high, but people chose it as it’s better than the alternatives: to be captives of their own fears and doubts.”

I asked: “How do we decide our role in other people’s quest?”

This time it was Mr. Whoolster who answered. “Usually that role will be filled automatically. Like you met Baudelaire. It’s part of the magic of seeking that those in need will find those offering to help. Of course – we can still organise certain things, like… apparitions and the like. If you are interested in that, we can talk about it. We have regular meetings and… our Christmas parties are legendary…”

Alphonse and I laughed.

And then we realised that we already had made the decision and that all we needed to do was to affirm it.

There was only one last thing that we wanted to know from the Olympians, as assembled as they were.

“Mr. Chairman?” I asked.

“Yes.” he said.

“I wanted to ask…”

“I already said ‘Yes’.”

“You didn’t even let me ask the question.”

He smiled. “I don’t need to hear the question spoken out loud to know what it is.”

He pointed at my hand and Alphonse’s and how I had instinctively grabbed his.

“Do deal with your husband at home. And the rest will deal with itself.”

And he was right.

Alphonse and I left on separate trains but this time, I didn’t feel bad. I knew that I would be back soon. We exchanged messages all the time. He had found a wonderful little house on the outskirts of town, near the road to Fountainebleau.

Dealing with David’s and my divorce was tough, but he was surprisingly understanding. When I quit my job there were peculiar questions about the new job I would have in France. I evaded the question and counted the days until my termination would be finalised. Thankfully, that wasn’t long.

I packed everything and ordered movers for getting everything to our little new home.

The Olympians had left us some money to get started in Paris. It came out of their own pockets, so there was no reason whatsoever to complain, but it wasn’t a lot of money. Still, I wasn’t worried and indeed: just two days later Alphonse and Baudelaire wrote that they have secured a job for me and Alphonse, one that sounded like a lot of fun and one that would be helpful in our new jobs as seeker-helpers.

I did a farewell party in Duisburg, one last goodbye to all the friends who promised to visit although I was sure that not a single one of them would. But it was ok. It was an end of an era and an end of an era, by definition, ends a lot of things.

Finally everything was settled. I returned the keys to my landlord and ordered a taxi to the central station. Alphonse was waiting in front of the entrance and gave me a big hug and a kiss.

“Ready?”

I nodded.

“Yeah! Let’s do this.”