Chapter 17 #2
‘Is this like a complex? Being a hero? Could you burn out?’
‘If I did, you’d have to help me get through the Ordeal,’ he grits out. ‘Believe me, I don’t like the thought of burning out. But we’re lacking options and as far as I can see, I’m the only botanist present.’
‘Tessa, just stay put. Alden’s gearing up!’ Greg calls across the lawn, hopping from foot to foot.
‘You’re infuriating!’ I say to Alden, scrubbing my hands down my face.
But I glance at Tessa, the terror in her features, Richards only a few feet behind, and I know I can’t stop him.
I need Tessa to get through this with us.
I care about her, and I cannot see another person I care about die.
I cannot. I have to trust Alden; I have to put all my trust in him and, in a lifetime of assignments and training, learning to operate solo, that’s a hard thing to do.
The hedges ruffle around us, as though watchful and knowing.
There is something almost sentient about this place, something hungry.
And as I rake my gaze over the hopefuls, the man with the knife, who has stopped moving completely, Richards with his raised axe, the three women now half turned towards Richards, features widening into screams …
I realise this place may well be hungry. For blood, for magic … for death.
‘Get ready to move. The magic I’ll be using … I’ve heard that some plants alter and shift when a wielder tries to manipulate them. This whole place might turn on us.’
‘ Now you share that …’ I say. But as I glance up, there’s a low moaning sound, the hedges leaning in further, the exits from this clearing narrowing. And I can’t find any glints of illusion or another wielder’s magic.
This maze is alive.
It’s ravenous.
I notice an ironic smile flit across Alden’s features briefly, before a frown pinches them once more.
He takes a breath, throws out his hands—
And unleashes.
I’ve never seen raw magic like this. I freeze, watching as a storm of power blasts through the clearing, glints and glimmers so bright, it’s like he’s painted the clearing gold.
It’s beautiful and eerie … and something I know I will never be able to wield.
My power, my magic is like the flame of a candle; his is a roaring furnace.
Alden grunts, a vein throbbing in his temple, and I reach for him without thinking, bracing my hand on his arm.
There’s a jolt, electricity or lightning or something , but I hold my hand there, feeling magic come alive in my veins, just like the air around us.
I’ve never felt this before. Never felt it course through me like this, alive and fizzing, overflowing …
This must be his magic. Alden’s. Somehow, I can feel it.
The hedges seem to curl away, as though the magic in this space, on this lawn is too big.
Too much. But I keep my hand on his arm, keep this connection between us alive.
I glance over at the hopefuls and find them blinking, the colour of their skin and clothes flowing down them, the stone washed away.
Tessa moves first. As soon as her limbs obey, she dashes across the lawn and hurls herself at Greg, wrapping her arms around him.
I exhale in relief as the other hopefuls all gain use of their arms and legs, all except for Richards, shifting off the lawn as well.
None of the others died from the immobilant in this trap, but this isn’t over.
We’re still caught in this maze.
‘Alden, that’s enough. Let go,’ I say, shaking his arm. ‘You don’t need to give any more. You’ll free Richards, then we’re all fucked. Alden! ’
He doesn’t reply and I notice the sweat along his hairline, the way he’s drawing each breath, too shallow and too fast—
‘Alden!’ I move to him, gripping both his arms and shake.
But raw magic is still pouring from him, crackling in the air above the lawn.
The hedges shift and sway around us, leaning in once more, as though they can taste it, taste the power and life flowing from Alden’s hands.
Panic wells inside me and I pummel both fists into his chest, grinding my knuckles into his ribs.
He winces, but doesn’t stop and I realise … he can’t.
I pull his face down to mine and scream his name once more. He’s burning out. He’s burning out and I can’t stop it, I can’t save him, just like Dolly, just like that night. ‘Alden,’ I whisper. I have to do something. I can’t see him die like this, not like this—
Twisting back to the lawn, I force myself to breathe.
Focusing on the magic in this place, the magic of the lawn, then his magic.
And I begin to unpick it. The work I did with Lewellyn, then the work she set me with those photographs giving me the framework to know what to do.
I bite my lip, working as fast as I can, finding every thread that isn’t the strange poison in the lawn, that’s him, and pull it free.
I pull him free.
He staggers back. The flow of magic ceases, the honey-gold light vanishing.
He drops his hands to his thighs, breathing hard, and I go to him without thinking.
I place my hands on his face, feeling the contours of his jaw, the warmth that bathes me when his eyes lock with mine.
He sinks to the ground. He’s still not drawn a breath.
‘Alden,’ I whisper. ‘Stay with me.’
Then I fall to my knees, needing to fill his lungs, to feel the wings of them open inside his chest, and bring my mouth to his.
All at once he shudders, hauling in a breath, his hands finding my face and he’s kissing me.
His kiss is like ice, like he’s burned and burned, and I deepen it, pulling him to me, remembering his scent from the day we first met, how my veins filled with molten heat that night in my room.
But it’s not feather-soft like then, nor a dance between us like the day in the bar.
It’s hungry and desperate and raw. I bring my body flush with his, winding my hands around the back of his neck, and he breaks away for a heartbeat, eyes locked with mine.
Then I lean in slowly to lick along his bottom lip.
A growl rips from his throat as he kisses me back, harder, his mouth moving with mine, his hands roaming down, down, arms coming around my waist …
Heat rushes through me, churning up my thoughts, and a breathless moan escapes my throat. He tastes divine, his mouth fitting perfectly with mine, and all I want to do is spin this out, fall into it and dissolve into this perfect moment.
His hands move lower, to the dip at the base of my spine, and I’m suddenly aware of what I’m doing. Where I’m doing it.
Oh gods.
We leap apart, staring at each other in shock. I wipe my mouth, hiding the slight tremor in my fingertips and blink up at him. All I’m aware of is the lack of raw magic, how the air is devoid of light and honey gold … and how every hopeful is stock-still, staring at us.
I flush, breathing hard. ‘You need to learn control. You nearly died!’
‘ I need to learn control …’ he mutters, shaking his head.
The heat in my cheeks intensifies as he raises his eyebrows, a smile twisting that gorgeous mouth.
‘No need to throw yourself at me, DeWinter,’ he says so only we can hear, a grin breaking through the exhaustion limning his features. ‘Fuck, if we weren’t here right now—’
The ground shudders beneath my feet and I skitter, nearly tumbling over.
Glancing around, I see the ground is rippling, the hedges closing in, as if they’re furious waves, ready to submerge us, ready to drag us deep beneath the earth.
When I look across the lawn, to where Richards still holds that axe aloft, I see the ground shifting and moving.
Then it swallows him whole.
‘Let’s move!’ I say, already racing for the hedge to our right. ‘This isn’t an illusion! This damn maze doesn’t want us to leave. Alden, a little help …’
He blasts a hole before me, twigs and leaves snapping back as he races past me, breath coming in ragged bursts. ‘Can’t do that many more … times …’
We hurl ourselves through the hedge, Tessa and Greg hot on our heels. I turn just before we disappear, seeing the hopefuls scatter, aiming for different paths leading off the lawn. We’ve done all we can. ‘Good luck!’
Then we’re through, and we’re running, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. The whole maze is shifting now, the hedges slamming together, and it takes all Alden has left to blast us through two more hedges.
‘Don’t … stop … running …’ I say, breathless, the air burning like fire in my throat. We skid around a bend in the path and find the edge of a cliff. I cry out, dropping to the ground as my feet skitter stones off into the waves below.
Alden is next to me, panting furiously and I throw out a hand as Tessa and Greg careen to a stop behind us. ‘It’s real! There’s no magic here. It’s a dead end …’ Then I see what’s behind us. The maze, closing in, as though we’ve been kicked out. ‘Get back inside before it closes up!’
Tessa and Greg scramble backwards and Alden reaches the hedge at the same moment as me. I leap into it, twig and leaf scraping and snatching at my skin, my hair.
‘Sophia! Hold out your hand to me!’ Tessa cries, but the sound is muffled, as though far away.
I whimper as the limbs of twisting trees press into me, leaving me no room to breathe, to think …
then suddenly, a hand grips mine and I’m dragged through, sharp twigs scraping against my skin.
I fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs next to Alden.
Tessa crouches beside me, already pulling me to my feet, saying we have to move, fast.
‘I can’t get us through the hedges. My magic, I wielded too much all at once,’ Alden says quietly, eyeing the hedges closing in further down the path. ‘We’re going to have to run.’