CHAPTER FIFTEEN #3
A familiar set of spiral stairs appeared.
I leaped down the stone steps two and three at a time, keeping my right hand on the railing for balance.
At my touch, sigils lit up one after another along the length of the railing, but I ignored the mammoth butterflies flapping their wings and the stormswords crackling with fire, ice, lightning, and wind.
I leaped off the bottom step and sprinted into an enormous round room.
Blue-moon peonies bobbed up and down on long black vines that crawled up and draped over the doors set into the dark gray stone wall.
Wide, open, unblinking sapphsidian eyes were embedded in many of the doors, and the jewels winked and glimmered with light, almost as if they approved of my frantic pace.
I raced past several doors. Some were open, and memories played on the other side like videos on holoscreens.
Useless child . . . My mother, Nerezza, sneered from one doorway, while Esmina Reston gloated at me from another one. You’re the weak link, destined to be broken . . .
For once, I moved past the hurtful memories without stopping, and I kept running until I came to three doors in the back of the room.
The fancy, curlicued Z of House Zimmer marked one as Zane’s door, while a large upside-down sapphsidian eye adorned another door.
The Door, as I always thought of it, led into the dark, distant depths of my mindscape where my psionic nexus was located.
I focused on the third door, where the House Caldaren sigil arrow streaked upward through a cluster of stars.
I had never tried to open Kyrion’s door before.
Just because we were bonded didn’t mean I had the right to rifle through Kyrion’s thoughts, feelings, and memories like they were playing cards in a game.
I respected his privacy far too much for that.
But right now, I was more interested in saving his life, so I waved my hand.
To my surprise, the sapphsidian arrow glimmered brightly, as did the carvings of the surrounding stars, and the door cracked open.
I hesitated, then waved my hand again. The door swung all the way open, like Kyrion himself was inviting me inside.
I swallowed a hard knot of worry in my throat, drew in another breath, and charged through to the other side.
A few weeks ago, when I had stepped through Zane’s door, it had been like crossing a threshold and moving from one room to another. Simple, quick, and easy.
Maybe it was due to the psionic dampeners still muting our connection, but stepping through Kyrion’s door was like falling into a distant dream. Strange, slow, and awkward.
Everything went black, and I had the sensation of streaking downward like a shooting star dropping from the sky and about to slam into the earth . . .
My entire body jolted, and my eyes snapped open. For a moment, everything remained dark, and then light bloomed, just as it had when I’d first entered my mindscape.
I blinked, and from one moment to the next, everything snapped into focus. Flagstones underfoot, a circular metal wall, a clear energy shield shimmering overhead. I had done it. I had astrally projected myself into the maze.
Triumph pulsed through me, but it quickly wilted away as I took in an unexpected but nauseatingly familiar feature. Permaglass pools and bronze cauldrons were scattered throughout the area, and every single container was filled with lava.
This biodome was fashioned after a Magma planet.
Even though my physical body wasn’t actually in the biodome, the intense, oppressive heat still blasted over me and sucked the moisture out of my body.
An unexpected and unwelcome side effect of my seer magic.
The sensation stirred up memories of the Techwave battle on Magma 7, but I pushed them aside.
I didn’t have time for memories right now—only rogue actions.
Kyrion was standing off to my left. His black hair was plastered to his forehead, and his skin was red and chapped. Sweat trickled down his face and spattered onto his dark blue clothes, and dust coated his knee-high boots.
An ugly burn from a blaster bolt marred Kyrion’s right forearm, but that was a minor injury compared with his left hand, which looked like he’d stuck it into the lava.
His palm was as black as charcoal, and his fingers were a bright, unnatural red and twisted at an awkward angle like he couldn’t move them.
Just looking at Kyrion’s injuries made the pain of them flare up in my own body again.
My left hand spasmed, and I couldn’t stop my fingers from curving into the same awkward claw as Kyrion’s fingers.
A couple of weeks ago, I’d been shot with a powerful blaster when some bounty hunters had cornered me on Tropics 44, but the sheer, unrelenting agony pulsing off Kyrion took my breath away.
I didn’t see how the Arrow was still on his feet, much less glaring at Roderick like he wanted to rip the other warrior to pieces with his bare hands.
If walking through Kyrion’s door had been like entering a distant dream, then Roderick was the nightmare that was front and center. His red armor was even brighter and shinier than the pools of lava, making him seem like he was wearing polyplastic plates of blood. Disgust curdled in my stomach.
Sweat kept dripping down Kyrion’s face, but not a single drop appeared on Roderick’s forehead, and his skin wasn’t flushed.
His armor must be equipped with a cooling and heating system that adjusted to the surrounding environment and temperature.
I snorted. Of course it was. The Erzton lord wouldn’t want to be the least bit uncomfortable as he hunted people.
Being in the maze and seeing the area from this angle made it much easier to orient myself, but I still wanted—needed—more information, so I called up my seer magic and studied the rest of the biodome.
I concentrated on the bronze cauldrons and the metal wall, since those were the most likely places for hidden traps.
My magic kicked in and highlighted a few nozzles and other hazards, and I marked those spots in the mental map I was creating.
My body trembled, and sweat streamed down my face, although I thought my physical distress had more to do with using my magic in such a focused, prolonged way than with the intense, almost unbearable heat of the lava.
I blinked, and everything wavered, as though it was a mirage. I clenched my hands into fists and gripped my seer magic a little more tightly, along with the sticky cobweb of Kyrion. Slowly, everything solidified.
I reached for more of my magic, anchoring myself to it, along with this spot in the maze. I only had one shot at this, and I had to make it work—or Kyrion was dead.
In my mind’s eye, I was still in the biodome watching Kyrion and Roderick face off. Keeping that image front and center in my thoughts, I slowly cracked my eyes open back out in the real world.
The control panel with its plethora of buttons and blinking lights swam into view.
I curled my right hand around the metal.
The sharp edge pressed into my palm, grounding me back in the control room, even as the image of Kyrion and Roderick flickered in my mind, like a holoscreen about to go dark.
I ground my teeth and tightened my grip on my seer power and the sticky cobweb of Kyrion yet again.
The real-world view of the control panel warred with the image of the maze in my mind, like I was trying to watch two different gossipcasts at the same time. I thought my brain was going to explode from the intense pressure, but I reached for even more of my magic, and both images slowly steadied.
I drew in a breath, then let it out. When I was certain I had a good grip on my magic and especially my connection to Kyrion, I flexed my fingers, leaned over the control panel, and started hitting buttons.