CHAPTER ELEVEN
VESPER
I quickly backtracked through the maze.
One of the good things about being a seer was that I never forgot anything I saw, did, or experienced, so it was easy for me to remember the twists and turns.
I retraced my steps to the entrance only to find the wall was still in place, trapping me inside.
Annoyance shot through me. Of course it was.
Nothing in the galaxy could ever be that blasted easy.
I ran my fingers over the wall, but the metal was thick and solid, and there was no way I could move the heavy slab, not even with Kyrion’s telekinesis.
Next, I went over and gave several experimental yanks on the honeysuckle vines clinging to a nearby wall.
The thick vines might form a solid mass, but they tore down easily, and they simply weren’t strong enough to support my weight and let me climb up and over the slick wall.
I let out a frustrated snarl and paced back and forth. One blasted wall stood between me and . . . well, freedom wasn’t the right word, but I’d rather be outside the maze than inside it.
Think, Vesper, think!
I kept pacing, studying the wall the same way I would a faulty brewmaker or a misfiring blaster in the R&D lab, but there wasn’t much to see. Just a big ol’ slab of metal perched on tracks that let it slide back and forth.
My eyes narrowed, and I studied the tracks a little more closely.
The maze might be controlled from exterior panels, but in the R&D lab, buttons failed, levers snapped, and circuits fried all the time.
The House Battis technicians would have had to install a manual release inside the maze to move the wall in case of an emergency or catastrophic control or power failure.
I quit looking at the exit, spun around, and stabbed my stolen trident into the honeysuckle vines on the left side of the path. The sharp tips sheared through the vines and revealed the smooth metal wall underneath. No release here.
Frustration filled me, but I whirled around and moved over to the right side of the path. I repeated the process and stabbed the trident into the honeysuckle vines.
Tink.
The prongs bounced off something jutting out from the wall. Excitement coursed through me, and I used the trident like a pitchfork to tear down thick wads of vines. A few seconds later, I uncovered a metal box painted the same green as the honeysuckle vines. Jackpot.
The box had a hole for a key I didn’t have, so I jammed the trident prongs into the seam between the door and the rest of the box. Then I leaned my body weight on the trident, using it like a lever.
Screech!
The lock broke, and the door popped open, revealing a small metal wheel nestled inside the box.
I set the trident down, grabbed the wheel with both hands, and turned it.
The wheel resisted, like it had never been used, so I dug my boots into the ground and put more of my strength into the motion.
I also reached for the bond again, grabbed the tiny trickles of Kyrion’s telekinesis, and added his power to my own.
The wheel slowly turned one inch, then two, then three . . .
Screech!
The wheel finally turned all the way, and the metal wall slid back. I redoubled my efforts and kept twisting the wheel until I had created a gap large enough to slip through. I grinned and pumped my fist in the air in triumph.
Vesper 1, Maze 0.
I grabbed the trident, then tiptoed forward and peered through the opening. No Black Scarabs were waiting outside, and no one was at the control panel Siya had used earlier.
I drew in a breath, then stepped out of the maze.
A sharp, tingling sensation swept over my skin, like I had just sloughed off some unwanted dirt, and the dull background roar finally faded from my ears.
I exhaled with relief. I was clear of the psionic dampeners, so my senses were back to normal, although that mental white fog was still wisping between me and Kyrion, who was still deep in the maze.
I held my position, looking and listening in case this was another trap, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, and the only sounds were the faint hisses of the fog machines in the distance. My gaze lifted to the upper level, but no one was standing along the railing.
Siya? Asterin? I called out telepathically, but neither one of them responded, and no strong emotions rippled through the air.
Worry twisted my stomach, but I clutched the trident a little tighter and left the maze behind. First I was going to find my friends, and then I was going to deal with whoever had been stupid enough to target us.
Keeping an eye out for more Black Scarabs, I went over to the control panel.
The holoscreens were dark, and none of the buttons lit up or did anything, no matter how many times I punched them.
None of the knobs and switches responded either.
The panel was dead, which meant someone was manipulating the maze from the main panel in the control room.
And they were looking for me.
Several cameras zoomed down from the ceiling and tilted their lenses toward the maze.
Wide red beams of light shot out from the bottoms of the cameras as they slowly moved back and forth, scanning each part of the maze.
The lights were probably some kind of thermal imaging designed to pick up my heat signature in case I was hiding in the honeysuckle vines or one of the biodomes.
None of the cameras was near the exit, but it was only a matter of time before my mysterious enemy realized the mouse had escaped their trap.
Since the control panel was dead, I went over to the door that led to the stairs. Locked. A keypad was embedded in the wall, but I had no idea what the code was—
Pew! Pew! Pew!
The sharp sounds of blaster fire zipped through the air. My heart leaped into my throat, and I spun around, expecting bright, deadly streaks of electricity to come zinging toward me and slam into my chest.
But the area was still deserted, and no one sprinted out of the maze brandishing a weapon.
Pew! Pew! Pew!
More blaster fire rang out. My heart climbed a little higher up my throat, but the sharp sounds quickly vanished. I drew in a deep breath, but no ozone aroma flooded my nose. The blaster fire must be on the far side of the maze—where Kyrion was.
Kyr? Are you okay? Kyr!
I called out with as much force and magic as I could. He didn’t answer, but the sticky cobweb of him practically steamed with anger.
My heart twisted with worry. I stepped toward the maze, but I forced myself to stop. As much as I wanted to charge back inside and find Kyrion, the best thing I could do for both of us was to figure out exactly what was going on, so I reluctantly turned back toward the keypad.
First step: Get through this door. I jammed the trident prongs in between the concrete wall and the plastic casing that covered the keypad.
After a few forceful wiggles, the casing popped off the wall and clattered to the ground.
I set the trident aside and stared at the nest of colored wires curled around the keypad.
A sense of calm settled over me, like I was back in the R&D lab tinkering with a new blaster design. I embraced the feeling and did the same thing I would have done in the lab—I traced my fingers along the wires, seeing where they plugged into the keypad, along with the surrounding circuitry.
Lucky for me, the wires were covered with a cheap plastic coating that I was able to peel away with my fingernails.
I quickly exposed several wires, then touched them together.
Sparks zinged through the air, along with the crackle of electricity, but I kept testing one combination of wires after another after another . . .
Beep!
The light on the keypad turned green, and the door buzzed open. I pumped my fist in the air in triumph again.
Vesper 2, Maze 0.
Pew! Pew! Pew!
Another round of blaster fire erupted in the maze, and an instant later, a sharp spike of pain stabbed into my right forearm. The force of the phantom blow knocked me back against the wall hard enough to rattle my teeth and make me bite my tongue.
Blast it. That had hurt.
I yanked up my jacket and shirtsleeves, knowing and dreading what I would find. Sure enough, an angry red burn had appeared on my right forearm. My heart pounded in my chest, matching the rapid, painful throb of the wound.
Kyrion had been shot.
When our truebond had first formed, we often mirrored each other’s injuries.
If I cut my hand on a dagger, a similar mark would appear on the same spot on Kyrion’s hand, although his wound usually wouldn’t be as deep or painful as the actual cut on my hand.
After we had finally accepted our truebond in the Crownpoint throne room several weeks ago, I thought we would stop mirroring each other’s injuries, but I was wrong.
Sometimes if I clipped my shoulder on a doorway or bruised my knee on a table, the same injury would appear on Kyrion’s body, and vice versa if he rammed his elbow into a shelf or landed awkwardly on his hip during sparring.
But other times when Kyrion and I injured ourselves, the physical marks would only appear on the injured person’s body, and the other person didn’t experience any psionic echoes of pain.
I’d started keeping track of which injuries appeared, along with their severity, but so far, there was no rhyme, reason, or discernible pattern to how, why, or when our wounds mirrored each other and when they didn’t.
The lack of clear action and reaction was another frustrating facet of the ever-evolving puzzle of having a truebond.
Just when I thought I had finally figured something out, something else arose that completely upended my perception of my magic, Kyrion’s power, and everything else that came with our connection.
But the severity of this injury told me exactly how much Kyrion was hurting—and how dangerous his enemy was. This wasn’t the mild redness from a blaster set to stun. No, that bolt had been designed to incapacitate Kyrion, at best, and kill him, at worst. Dread pounded through my body.
I’m coming, Kyr! Hang on!
I sent the thought, although yet again, I had no idea if he heard it. The sticky cobweb of Kyrion bristled with even more anger, although that emotion was quickly iced over by a cold, ruthless determination I recognized all too well.
Kyrion Caldaren might be injured, but he was far from defeated, and the rogue Arrow was going to make his enemy pay. An answering determination swept through me, and a sharp grin split my lips.
Me too, Kyr. Me too.
I grabbed my trident and held it out in front of me. Then I stepped through the open door to continue my search for the spider controlling this dangerous web.