CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #3
Praying that the light mist wasn’t hiding something that would terrify me, I started traipsing through the water. Stealth was not an option here. There was no quieting the sloshing of my footsteps or the squelching of the mud sucking at my boots.
I swished aside the long grass, cursing the reeds that caught at my breeches and slowed me down. Many patches of my lower legs stung, courtesy of the salty water; telling me just how many minor injuries I had. Hopefully they wouldn’t become infected by the filthy water.
A few dragonflies moved through the reeds. I didn’t mind dragonflies. As for the little bugs dancing along the surface of the water? I didn’t know what they were, but I studiously avoided them.
I shivered as droplets of water dripped from my hair down my face. My sodden clothes clung to and chafed my skin. They were also an added weight that I did not need.
Muffled high-pitched squeaks drifted through the air, making my pace falter. Bats? Rats? Mice? I wasn’t quite sure. I also hoped to never find out.
I edged around a couple of grass stalks, neatly avoiding the web built between them. At this point, bits of grit had managed to fill my socks and settle between my toes. Not nice. I wanted my boots and socks off in the worst way.
I sucked in a breath as I stepped onto a particularly sharp rock. Mother—
A sight up-ahead distracted me. A low mound of something blocked my path. Moving closer, I saw that it was a wriggling, squeaking heap of black fur and long hairless tails.
Rats.
Little bumps rose on my nape and arms. I didn’t fear the rodents, but I didn’t have any interest in walking among them either. Unfortunately, I had no choice.
I counted to three and then took off at an awkward run, splashing through the water. There was no way to jump over the heap, so I had to pretty much trample over the rats. Some squeaked and scuttled over my—
I flinched with a hiss. One of the little shits bit my calf.
I didn’t stop. I kept running until I’d cleared them, sending water sloshing everywhere. Halting to pull in a centering breath, I snarled at the squeaking assholes, even though it would be fair to point out that they’d been minding their own business until I trod over them.
Feeling the water lap against my mid-thighs, I right then realized that the ditch was deepening. Worried that that could continue, I fished my drinking pouch out of my pocket and gripped it between my teeth. No way did I want any fetid water making its way in there.
I pushed my way through the water; it seemed to suck at my legs, and every step was weighted by the mud. Thank the gods I had become used to ignoring the throbbing pain of blisters, because I was sporting some on my heels right now.
The ditch began to thin slightly, but I could still see no end in sight. The further I walked, the deeper it became. As such, my breeches seemed to grow heavier with every step.
I froze as something brushed along my thigh beneath the water.
Ah, hell.
Gripping my pouch more firmly with my teeth, I sped up, determined to get away from whatever it was.
I wouldn’t think about the fact that I wasn’t alone in the ditch.
I wouldn’t wonder what creatures could be causing the air bubbles.
I wouldn’t pay attention to how harsh the cool temperature felt against my damp skin.
Spotting something further along the passage, I squinted. I couldn’t make out what it was, other than to be sure that it was dark. And so very still that I doubted it was anything living.
I shoved aside the short curls sticking to my forehead as I kept on trudging through the water. Soon, a strange tang scented the air. A new sound also emerged. The gurgling of an underwater river.
The gurgling became louder as I neared the dark ‘something’ waiting up-ahead. A something that turned out to be a muddy heap.
I flexed my fingers beneath the water. How was I supposed to climb a sloppy mud hill? Probably with major difficulty.
At least it wasn’t teeming with insects and tiny bones.
I stuck my fingers into the mud for purchase … and green, smelly liquid oozed out of the holes. I groaned, snatching back my hands. Oh, give a girl a break.
Worse, beetles and worms followed behind the liquid.
I juddered, wishing all manner of curses on whoever had created this damn labyrinth. Figuring—since the mud would easily sink beneath my weight—that it was best to move quickly, I scrabbled up the hill as fast as I could.
The green shit stuck to my fingers. The mud embedded itself beneath my nails. The insects crawled up the godsdamn sleeves of my tunic.
I cleared the hill and quickly scampered down it. It was then that I saw the river. Like the earlier trench and the pool, it sliced through the passage.
It was also blood-red.
After shaking the insects from my body, I wiped the goo and mud on my breeches as I crossed to the edge of the river. And as the rich coppery scent hit me, I became very aware that this didn’t just look like blood. No, it was blood.
And there were dead rats floating in it.
Fuck my life.
I could all too easily understand why this place had earned the title ‘Nightmare Caverns.’ There was something so very sadistic about the labyrinth. It seemed built to play on your fears, drain your strength, and strangle your will to go on.
I’d known that the Sovereigns could be cruel, but to send down here those who upset them felt like a whole other level of callousness. And to actually trap a person here, a person Minos had first cursed to forever be a mindless beast, seemed beyond evil.
Batting those thoughts aside, I pinned my focus back on the river. It was too wide to be cleared in a single leap. Which meant that I’d have to use the series of wall ledges—they could act as a staircase of sorts.
Skimming my hand over the rough wall for balance, I stepped onto the first ledge. The soles of my boots were slick with mud and slime, so I slowly but carefully moved from one ledge to another. It was—
I slipped on the middle ledge.
I planted my feet firmly to steady myself, a panicked gasp splitting my lips … and my water pouch went toppling into the blood below. I stared down at it. “Fuck.”
Bracing my hand more flush against the wall, I stepped onto the next ledge. And the next. And the next. But when I reached the second to last one, I hesitated to keep moving. Why? Because there was a distinctive crack in the final ledge—I wasn’t sure it would hold under my weight.
Puffing out a mound of air, I judged the distance. I could jump this. Definitely. Maybe.
I breathed deep once, twice, and then leapt.
I landed safely on the other side of the river.
Relieved, I hurried forward just in case the ground decided to disappear beneath me or some crap.
I followed a U-turn and reached a curtain of dangling moss that told me I was about the enter the next circuit.
I quickly pushed through it, and my surroundings were once again different.
No black mildew on the walls now. No, the branches were back.
They were also on fire.