"You can't go backwards!" the Riddler protested. "That's cheating, you know!"

"I thought you said cheating was crawling through the air ducts," Robin replied. "I'll jump back in and skip the whole maze if that'd make you feel better."

There was a long moment of silence; Robin took the opportunity to slip back through the corridor into a… nother hallway? This wasn't right; he should be seeing the entrance to the "control room." Remembering how the floor and wall had spun around, Robin carefully examined the steel wall of the maze, running his fingers lightly over the cool metal. There should be a door here, somewhere… his fingers scraped over a small crack in the paneling, no wider than a thread. Robin glanced down; there was a similar crack running over part of the floor. He threw his shoulders against the wall, half-expecting it to stick. To his surprise, it immediately swiveled around, and Robin found himself in a narrow, dark space between the maze's outer wall and the bare wooden frame of Scarface's hideout. Suppressing a smile, Robin crept quietly past the dusty wooden frame and cement support pillars to a small, battered door. It was locked, but easily went down with a well-aimed kick.

"If you take another step, I will electrocute Ted Torrance!" came the Riddler's frantic voice from the maze. "Don't move, Robin!"

Robin smiled easily. The room beyond the door was dimly lit, but he could easily make out the bound figure of a man slumped against a half-disassembled computer console. At the sudden light, the man looked up, tried to stand up, and fell over sideways. No wires, no triggers, no tripwires… there was no way Riddler could make good on his threat.

"I'm calling your bluff, Riddler," Robin said confidently, and walked into the room. Ted Torrance was struggling against his bonds, but couldn't make a sound through the thick gag. Robin knelt down and quickly released him. "And now I'm coming for you!"

"Sorry, Robin," the Riddler's voice echoed from the maze. "You may have surprised my plans this time, but I always think ahead. Foresight, you see, is the essence of true intelligence. A truly brilliant mind must be able to— oh dear, it appears my less-than-brilliant colleague is somewhat upset. My dear Scarecrow, I told you I had a backup console, but I didn't say where it was! I declare our partnership ended, and if you can get Hatter out of those handcuffs, I'll wish you both good luck getting out of the maze. I'd say I have to go, but since I've already gone, that would be redundant! Gentlemen, it has been interesting, but you'll have to excuse me now."

The Riddler's voice went silent. From somewhere off in the maze, there was a shriek of anger, followed by a long tenor scream. Robin sighed.

"It just never stops, does it?" he muttered, and headed back out the door in the direction of the screaming.

Scarecrow drew a deep breath, his thin frame still shaking slightly with rage. He hadn't been this angry in a long, long time. He wasn't sure if he'd ever been this angry before. But it was time to put petty catharsis, and now he had to focus. The Riddler had effectively trapped him inside the maze, and he had to find a way out.

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye, Scarecrow whispered murderously. Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie…

"Uh, boss?" the big thug—the same Scarecrow had brought with him to help carry Wayne out of the tea room—asked nervously. Scarecrow turned on him with a snarl, causing the muscular man to recoil a few inches.

"What?" he spat.

"Uh, um, I just… what are we going to do?" the thug stammered.

"Shut up," Scarecrow snarled. "If you had the slightest glimmer of intelligence, you would have noticed that I am trying to think! Now cease your chatter and let me be. Four and twenty blackbirds… hm, yes…"

"Jonathan," the Hatter gasped through another coughing fit. "You've got to get out of here."

Scarecrow only shot the Englishman a withering glare. He knew that Tetch was in a lot of pain—a punctured lung was serious, and the man needed a doctor as quickly as possible. Crane would have felt sorry for him, possibly tried to help him out of the handcuffs, but Scarecrow was far too angry. He was beyond angry by now—he was furious.

"Shut up," he hissed, turning away. The Mad Hatter's shoulders slumped, and he studied the ground sadly. Scarecrow was past caring by now. He needed to find a way out of here, get access to a decent chemical plant, and track down that lying, traitorous, egotistical maniac as soon as possible. And, of course, avoid the Boy Blunder on the way out.

The Scarecrow's malevolent gaze fell on his hired goon. The unfortunate man fidgeted nervously under Scarecrow's scrutiny, but didn't dare to move or ask another question. Without warning, Scarecrow ripped off his hat and tossed it at the thug.

"Put this on," he rasped, handing over his scythe as well. "I'm leaving. When our little friend arrives…"

Scarecrow cackled softly, running one bony finger across his throat. The thug swallowed hard and nodded.

"Whatever you say, boss," he said. "What about him?"

He nudged the Hatter with a foot. Tetch moaned softly and glared at the thug.

"This jabberwo—" he began, but Scarecrow shook his head impatiently.

"Leave him! Stand back there, in the shadow… yes, yes, as soon as he comes in, it will be off with his head."

Scarecrow glanced at the Mad Hatter as he ended, but the British villain was scowling at the muscle-bound henchman, and didn't seem to hear Scarecrow's conciliatory quote.

"What about, uh, Wayne?" the thug asked, trying to ignore the Hatter's evil looks.

"Pah! Don't worry about that cowering fool!" the Scarecrow snapped. "I'm sure little Robin Red-breast will catch him and take him to the hospital. Perhaps in time, perhaps not… the mind can only take so much, you know…" he cackled gleefully, rubbing his thin hands together. "And when I find Riddler… he shall truly know the nature of Fear! Oh yes, he will plead and scream, he will beg me to stop, but I will—"

A sudden clatter of metal on concrete arrested the Scarecrow's rant. He glanced over his shoulder, motioned the thug into a dark corner, and ran lightly through the far door, out of the card maze.

Who saw Cock-robin die? I, said the Fly, with my little eye, I saw him die…