Chapter 17 #3
I take the lead, taking us down the paths that don’t shimmer or glint, past misty, dank-smelling dead ends and eyes that peer out from dark paths.
The light is fading around us, and I realise that if we don’t find the heart, we’ll be stuck in here at night.
And now I’ve seen those unblinking eyes, I can feel them too, burning into me.
There’s a hunger in this maze, an unnatural will to break and tear and devour …
‘Tell me we’re not going in circles?’ Greg says from the back as I skirt another clearing, another lawn seemingly far too enticing.
‘Possibly, I’ve lost track,’ I say, trying to catch my breath even as my limbs ache. A scream is quickly cut off and we all turn towards it, but all I see in the gloaming are looming hedges, thickening mist and paths with no end.
‘If we split up …’ Tessa says.
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘We stay together. We all leave here together .’
‘Can anyone else see the full moon?’ Greg says in a strangled, pained voice. ‘I … I’m trying to hold it in. But the wolf inside me …’
Oh gods. I look to Tessa, and her eyes are wild, terrified as she pulls him by the hand, physically dragging him through the maze now. ‘Just get us out of here, Sophia. That’s one strong illusion.’
‘And only he can see it …’ I say. Of course.
If the illusions of this maze are so cleverly woven, tailored to each of our fears, then we’re battling against our very selves.
‘Stop,’ I say, raising a hand. ‘Stop moving, just take a breath. It’s playing on our worst nightmares, making them real, scattering our thoughts. ’
Everyone pauses around me, eyeing the twisting shadows, Greg screwing his eyes together, whispering under his breath about the moon, the howling.
I press my lips together, reaching for Alden’s hand as I steadfastly avoid the pale face in my periphery, flickering with magic.
I know it’s not real. It’s not a cold one.
‘Distract me. Make me forget the cold ones, and this maze … everything. I have to find the right way through.’
A ghost of a smile lifts the corners of his mouth. ‘Are you asking me to kiss you, DeWinter?’
I huff a laugh, eyes only for him. Not on the hedge, closing around us, not the terror, pounding in my chest. Just him, those eyes, the strange magnetism of this man.
I place my hand on his chest, and feel the stirrings of raw magic again, of golden, honeyed light.
I look up, past him, seeing a trailing thread, a whisper of magic, dancing away from us.
It’s the sign I needed and hope flares afresh in my chest. ‘This way.’
I break away from Alden and follow after it, taking a turn down a path and find myself in front of a fork.
Two paths, both shrouded in mist and silence.
I scrub my hands down my face, willing myself to concentrate.
We’ve come this far, we’re all still alive and I’m the only one who can see the illusions and lead us away from a trap.
But these paths … they seem so alike. Then I pick out a glint, a whisper of magic drifting over a section of hedge.
I squint, angling my head and find it’s woven, just like the cobwebs of magic over Lewellyn’s window.
And in this maze with no clear direction, I know in my bones this is the way.
‘Follow me!’
Plunging forward, I hear the beat of their feet following a step behind as I pass through the illusion.
For a moment, the mist and illusion cuts me off from them, and I twist round, reaching back until I feel a hand gripping mine and pull Tessa through.
She blinks quickly, reaching back and Greg and Alden fall after her. Suddenly … we’re here.
At the heart of the maze.
The mist evaporates. I drop my hands to my thighs, gasping for breath as we all pause.
It’s a courtyard. A stone courtyard with a water feature at the centre, a fountain surrounded by water.
The water is golden, laced with magic. It’s mesmerising.
I wipe a hand down my face, straightening up, and spot the woman who first crossed the courtyard in the Crucible.
She, Fion, flies in from a path on the other side of the courtyard, towing a terrified-looking hopeful, Elspeth, a masquier, in her wake. She’s spinning the hedges away from her with one hand, just like I saw her do with the vines in the Crucible. But with the other hand …
‘Impossible,’ I gasp. She’s holding the other hand aloft, ripples shaking in the air around her, and I realise what she’s doing.
She’s pushing the illusion surrounding her away.
Like it’s tangible, like she can feel it in the same way that I can see an illusion.
But that can’t be. That would make her a botanist and an illusionist …
‘Two magics. One lesser, one dominant,’ Tessa says quietly at my side. ‘Unusual, but not impossible. I haven’t heard of anyone in our generation with dual power. She certainly kept that quiet.’
My jaw drops as Fion winks at us, steps up to the fountain in the centre and pushes Elspeth in first, before dropping into the golden water. Then the maze shifts again, a path opening up directly before her through the hedges, straight to a clifftop beyond.
Straight to Killmarth.
‘I guess she’s first again,’ Tessa says with a sigh.
‘After all that shit, I’ll settle for just finishing alive,’ Alden mutters, already jogging for the fountain as the path closes up behind them. ‘DeWinter, Greg, Tessa, you ready?’
I make myself move, just as a couple more hopefuls appear from another path, one clutching a broken-looking arm, the other -covered in small cuts, twigs sprouting from their hair.
I’m sure I look no better. And behind them …
no. No, it can’t be. I hasten my steps, opening my mouth to call out to them, to warn them—
But just as quickly as I see her, the cold one disappears.
A final parting illusion from the maze.