CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I wasn’t even sure exactly what happened. Only that I ended up sprawled on my front and smacked my skull hard on the ice. Fuck.
A ringing sound filled my ears as my vision went all blurry. Lifting my head, I blinked hard, bringing the world back into focus. And I realized that I was staring right at a hole in the wall.
My stomach dropped with panic. I moved fast, shuffling forwards to get out of the literal line of fire. I’d no sooner slid completely off the ice than I felt heat near my legs.
I rolled onto my back, my breathing out of control. I could honestly scream with fury right now. These freaking caverns were—
An almighty bang came from somewhere far ahead of me, promptly followed by a tremendous splash.
I tensed, my blood chilling. Slowly sitting upright, I felt dread tighten my chest, making it even harder to get control of my breathing.
I would have wondered if someone had fallen, but there’d been no cry of surprise or pain. Then again, wouldn’t someone do their best to hold in any sound?
Get up, you don’t have the luxury of sitting around debating things in your head.
No, I didn’t. Very true. And the carpet of snow wasn’t comfortable anyway.
Once I was back on my feet, I immediately started walking, though I had to wonder if it was a good idea. The huge bang could have snatched the minotaur’s attention if he was close enough to hear it. Then he’d track it, and he’d find me.
But I couldn’t exactly afford to cautiously hang back—not while stuck in the icy temperature of this passage.
It was affecting me both mentally and physically.
Exhaustion tugged at my willpower, and fatigue plagued my muscles.
I was starting to feel light-headed again, which wasn’t good.
My body would eventually shut down if I stayed here too long.
So I traipsed through the snow yet again, my face and ears sore from windburn.
I licked my chapped upper lip, wincing at the sting.
It would start bleeding if I didn’t reach the end of the circuit soon.
I really, really needed to. A throbbing ache had settled in my head, which was probably part dehydration and part it-had-taken-far-too-many-hits-today.
I shivered, my teeth chattering. I was sweating from the effort of pushing onwards when it was so much more tempting to curl up on the ground. My clothes were heavy with the weight of the snow that had soaked them through, making every step so much harder to take.
Coughing—and ow, that hurt—I rubbed at my chest. It pained from inhaling the dry and bitterly chilled air.
The wind suddenly picked up, wailing like a banshee, sucking away my every foggy breath; giving the snow more of a kick. The flakes pelted my numb skin, peppered my hair, and drummed on my clothes.
My curse lost in the gust of wind, I upped my pace, my every breath weak and raspy. The visibility here was so bad that I didn’t notice I’d reached a crevice until I was only a few feet away from it.
Not trusting that the wind wouldn’t knock me into it, I didn’t go right to the edge. I remained at a safe distance from it and leaned forward. Below was a sheet of blue ice broken only in one spot.
A spot where a limp body floated on its front. Finian.
My belly rolled. The noise I’d heard earlier had been him falling through the ice, I then knew. Fuck.
Sadness tightened my gut. I hadn’t known him well but I’d liked him. He might have been standoffish toward me in the beginning, but that had gradually changed. And now—
Don’t think about it, be upset later, you have to keep going.
I let out a shuddery breath, swallowing hard. I’m so sorry, Finian, I’m so sorry.
Rubbing at the frost clinging to my eyelashes, I examined my only path across the crevice: a thin iron beam.
No. No, I’d never manage it. Not while my entire body violently trembled. There was no point in even trying.
What’s your alternative? Stand here and allow death to take you?
I bit out a curse. Crossing my arms over my chest, I wondered if it might be better to lie on the beam and edge my way across it. It would be more time-consuming, but it would give me less chance of falling. Maybe.
Shaking off my unease, I crossed to the beam but made no moves to even touch it.
Instead, I sprawled on my front near the edge and then grabbed the sides of the beam.
Sending up silent prayers to the gods, I used my hold on the strip of iron to heave my body forward.
It hurt. Hurt my sore muscles, my wounds, my palms, everything.
Not for the first time today, I called on the ability I’d recently developed in the past forty days to shelve my pain and focus on the matter in front of me. Again and again I pulled myself forward, until eventually my legs were dangling over the edges of the beam.
This was it. There was no going back now.
Keeping my front pressed against the beam, I repeatedly and carefully edged forward. The entire time, I kept my head up; kept my eyes trained on the end of the passage; didn’t once look at what lay beneath me.
I also tried not to think of how hard it would hurt to hit that ice; tried not to imagine just how freezing cold the water would be; tried not to imagine falling on Finian.
And I failed. Dramatically. There was no way not to fret over any of that.
The wind blew through the passage, whipped up more snow, and barreled right into my side. My heart smashed my ribcage. Feeling myself start to slip, I curled my limbs around the beam and held tight.
Once the wind died down, I edged forward again. And again. And again. It was a painfully slow process, but I eventually past the halfway point. Then the three-quarter-way point, which—
The wind slammed into me yet again.
I braced myself for the impact and clung to the beam with every bit of strength I possessed. The gust smacked me, rocked me, caused my face to bash against the iron so hard it was dizzying.
And my body abruptly tilted.
I would have fallen to the ice below if I hadn’t had a death grip on the iron bar. Instead, I ended up clinging to its underneath, my back to the ice, my pulse racing a mile a minute.
I spat a dozen curses, holding on for dear life. Literally.
Keep moving, don’t just hang there.
I wasn’t sure I could make it. My body trembled from the effort of clinging to the bar. I was just so tired and weak right now.
Still, having no choice but to try, I kept my limbs tight around the beam as I tried smoothing my lower arms and inner thighs along it to propel my body forward. It worked, but I only moved half an inch.
I thought about attempting to roll back onto my stomach, but that would be even harder—not to mention be a waste of precious strength, since the wind could again return me to my current position.
As such, I repeated the whole smoothing along the beam thing. I did it over and over and over, the iron beginning to burn my skin with the friction.
Finally, I reached the end of the beam. It would have been a cause for success, except I was clinging to the damn bottom of it, so there was nowhere for me to go unless I somehow switched positions. It would be a gamble, but I had no other choice at this point. It was that or—
The wind bashed into me again.
My legs lost their purchase on the beam, and my slower body dropped. A short cry burst out of me as my heart jumped into my throat. I ended up dangling in the air, clinging to the beam by only my hands.
Shit, shit, shit.
I tried swinging my legs upward to again curl around the iron bar, but I didn’t have the strength. My legs dropped yet again.
And one hand slipped.
I scrambled fast, managing to latch onto the same side of the beam as my other hand. Spotting two icy ledges several inches level with my feet, I worried my chapped lower lip. One shot. I had one shot. If I didn’t make it …
Well, I wasn’t going to think about it.
I inched along the beam without hesitation, knowing I wouldn’t have much time before the wind once again struck.
I braced one foot on an icy ledge, relieved when it didn’t crack or shift.
Praying my luck continued, I pushed down hard on the ledge as I used my grip on the beam to pull me upwards so that I was able to plant my lower arm on the edge of the crevice.
My pulse out of control, I stuck my other foot on a slightly higher ledge while positioning my free elbow on the beam itself. It took some awkward maneuvering, but I managed to heave myself using both my hands and feet onto safe ground.
Lying there, I scrubbed at my face, my chest rising and falling at a crazy pace. I didn’t want to get up. Even though it was so cold I was shuddering, I didn’t want to rise.
Just one circuit to go, and you’re done.
Forcing myself to stand, I shivered as I stumbled toward the end of the passage. A U-turn later, I pushed through the dangling moss. A heavy silence descended just as a scorching heat washed over me.
Layers of sand covered the ground here. Dead branches peeked through the cracked walls.
Cacti, skinny bushes, and thorny shrubs could be seen here and there.
Pebbles sporadically peeked out of the sand, small and sharp.
Shimmering heat waves rose from the floor, making my view of the passage swim ever so slightly.
The air was just as dry as it had been in the last circuit, only it didn’t have a frosty tang. Instead, it was boiling hot—no exaggeration. I could have toasted bread off the ground, I was sure of it.
My fingers and toes tingled as warmth bled back into them. Spotting a tarantula crawling along the floor, I pulled a face and shook the snow crystals from my clothes and hair. I had the distinct feeling that this circuit was going to be one of my least favorites.
I started to walk, the hot ground heating the soles of my boots to seriously uncomfortable levels. At least my ankle was feeling somewhat better now.
Sand shifted beneath my feet and clung to my boots, causing them to make a loud scraping sound with every step I took.