CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE #3
If it hadn’t been for the last forty days, I wasn’t sure I would have continued onward; wasn’t sure I would have trusted that I had it in me to get out of this labyrinth alive.
But Xalbia had shown me what I was capable of.
I’d powered through soul-draining ordeals before all while dealing with a haunting thirst and desperate need for rest. I could do it now.
So even though my ankles and feet were swelling, I forged on.
Even though my vision was a little blurry and I was feeling dizzy, I kept going.
Even though my headache was getting worse and my muscles were beginning to cramp, I didn’t stop.
Even though the cavern seemed to go on and on and on with no end in sight, I kept moving.
I rubbed the heel of my hand against my aching temple, smearing the trickles of sweat that tickled my face. Honestly, I was surprised there was any fluid left in my body to sweat.
Something small scurried across the width of the passage. A mouse, maybe? I was so tired I didn’t flinch at the sudden movement. Hell, my heartrate didn’t even go up. I was going to sleep so hard when I got back to the tack room.
A light breeze floated through the passage. Closing my eyes, I lifted my face to the breeze even though it wasn’t cool. I’d take whatever I could get.
Again it blew over me, rattling a dry brush to my left. I glanced that way … and stumbled to a halt, my insides seizing. Someone was sprawled on their front on the ground, unmoving. A woman. And though I could only see her profile, I knew instantly that it was Seneca.
Had she fainted? Possibly. I felt on the verge of fainting myself.
I staggered toward her and crouched at her side. I gently shook her shoulder. Nothing. Unease clawing at my chest, I felt her pulse.
There was no beat.
Snatching my hand back with a gasp, I almost toppled backwards. Ah, gods. I couldn’t claim to feel any grief—I’d never liked her. But I found no pleasure at all in seeing her dead.
Feeling my breathing speed up, I made an effort to calm it as I briefly looked her over. She had numerous injuries, but none appeared to be fatal. I suspected maybe her body—too weak, wounded, and fatigued—had simply and sadly hit its limit and hadn’t been able to go on.
I swallowed hard. It occurred to me that Atticus would surely stumble upon her if he got this far through the labyrinth. Despite everything, a part of me actually pitied him for that.
I gave her upper arm a little squeeze and then pushed myself upright. It didn’t feel right to leave her here, but I could barely support my own weight. There was no way I could carry her as well.
Staring down at what had become of her, I felt self-doubt begin to creep in.
I’d experienced many emotions throughout these caverns—anger, fear, dread, panic, annoyance, the list went on.
But until now, I hadn’t at any moment truly doubted that I would make it through the labyrinth alive—providing, of course, I didn’t come into contact with the beast that roamed here. If there even was one.
The edges of my willpower fraying, I scrubbed a hand down my face.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure that I could keep going much longer.
I didn’t know if this circuit was truly lengthier than the others or if it simply felt that way because of how little energy I had left, but I felt like I’d fall apart any second.
You’ve gotten this far. It would be stupid to stop now.
I exhaled a shaky breath as I pulled myself together. Maybe I wouldn’t last. Maybe my body would fail me as Seneca’s had failed hers. But I wasn’t going to stand here and wait for it to happen. That wasn’t me.
With one last look at her, I shuffled onward, my pace sluggish, my stride short.
I encountered one problem after another—a swarm of wasps, a too-bold tarantula, a small and shallow dry trench, and even more mini dust devils.
I ignored the wasp sting, kicked away the spider, managed to leap over the trench—fuck, that had hurt—and neatly avoided the dust devils.
Finally, I reached a crevice that was very alike those that I’d seen in other circuits. It was always the final challenge. Like the others, it was too wide to jump.
Creeping toward the edge, I looked down. The ditch was deep. Dark. Very dark, in fact. And the floor appeared to be moving. No, rippling.
Squinting, I leaned over a little further … and realization hit me. My stomach bottomed out as my heart weakly stuttered. The floor itself wasn’t moving. No, it was filled with writhing creatures.
It was a pit of snakes.
No. Fucking. Way.
My breathing went to shit fast. I shook my head hard, my knees locking. There was a way to cross the crevice, of course. Stepping stones. I’d have to use a set of floating stepping stones.
My stomach sank. I’d used such things before, granted. And I’d done well. I hadn’t fallen. But I also hadn’t been close to passing out back then.
Right now, I was running on empty. More, my feet were beyond busted. They were blistered, swollen, injured, and not whatsoever steady. I also had zero faith in my balance—
Boots thudding along the ground.
I stilled at the sounds coming from somewhere far behind me. Someone was running like their life depended on it.
There was a snarl. A panicked cry. More running. A loud roar.
Then a male scream of terror filled the air.
My heart raced so fast that I thought it might explode in my chest. It’s not real. The sounds are fake. They’re basically just another obstacle—it’s all part of scaring you to put you off your game.
I took a fortifying breath. Yes, it was all bullshit. There was no minotaur.
There was, however, a pit of snakes.
Turning back to the crevice, I groaned. The only thought that gave me any motivation to move forward was that I was almost at the heart of the labyrinth now. There would be no more climbing, balancing, hanging, leaping, or crawling. I just had this one ditch to cross, and then I would be done.
Done.
Such a lovely word.
Holding my breath, I hopped onto the closest stepping stone. A relieved exhale stuttered out of me when the stone didn’t dip or shake. But then it very slowly began to turn.
I remained still, panic squeezing my throat. What the hell? The stone remained in its exact location, but it continued to sluggishly turn in a circle—never stopping, never speeding up, never changing direction.
I parted my lips. Was it not bad enough that I was standing over a pit of snakes? Was that not enough danger to please whatever sadist built this place?
Clenching my jaw, I braced myself to head for the next stone. When the moment was right, I made my move, muttering prayers of thanks to the universe when I landed safely. Prayers that died on my lips when the stone started to twist just as the first had.
I’d anticipated it, of course, but that didn’t make me any less angry.
Gods, I was way too dizzy for this. My heart was having a nervous breakdown in my chest.
You can do this. You can get out of here. But only if you keep moving.
And the longer I stayed where I was, the dizzier I’d feel.
Again timing my jump just right, I hopped to the next stone. Which, of course, also began to turn. I swayed, nearly losing my footing.
Cursing, I balled up my sore hands, ignoring the twinges. I continued moving from stone to stone, feeling more sickly and light-headed the further I went. By the time I reached the second to last one, I thought I’d puke my guts right into the pit.
Once I arrived at the final stone, I clenched my jaw as I eyed the distance between this and the edge of the crevice.
It was spaced a little further apart than I …
My thoughts trailed off as the stone turned toward the direction from which I’d come and I saw something moving along the passage wall. A shadow. A shadow of something big.
My gut dropped.
I didn’t know what was coming. Didn’t care to know.
I just wanted to be gone before it arrived.
The moment the stone was facing forward again, I didn’t hesitate—I jumped.
By some miracle, my feet safely hit the ground at the other side of the passage.
A gust of sand rose up and puffed my face, causing my eyes to water. I didn’t care.
I ran for the turn that I could see up-ahead, a mixture of joy, relief, and satisfaction swimming in my blood. I’d done it. I’d actually done it.
I shoved my way through yet more dangling moss.
My scenery changed again. No sand or cacti or stifling heat. But there was no Talon or any of the Marshalls either.
I was in what appeared to be a small cavern. It was dark. Dank. Thickly shadowed. Had the dreary feel of a dungeon.
A shimmer of damp coated the stone walls that were scabbed with mildew, algae, and black mold.
Twisting tree roots meandered along the arched ceiling, dripping oily water to an uneven ground that sported dubious red stains.
Moss climbed over every statue, totem, and spire—all of which had been crushed almost to pieces.
The air was warm, stuffy, and reeked with the pungent scents of old blood, sweat, decay, and mold.
My nape prickling, I walked a little further into the cramped cavern, accidentally kicking a loose rock. It went tumbling into a thick carpet of leaves and grass that littered one part of the ground, looking almost like a bed. I swallowed, stepping toward—
Something crunched beneath my foot.
I looked down, and my heart stopped. Bone.
It was then that I realized there were more of them.
A pile was stacked in a nearby corner among more fresher kills—corpses of rodents, snakes, and other bats.
The carcasses were covered in clingy strings of fat, meat, and skin.
Gore and blood spatter coated the walls near the collection like a macabre painting.
My belly churned as bile burned my throat. You would have thought that the corpses would be swarmed by droning flies or foraging rats, but it was almost as if the live insects and rodents didn’t dare come here.
I caught sight of dirty footprints on the floor. Prints that belonged to someone with large feet. Either one of the candidates had removed their boots before traipsing through here or … or I’d have to face what I’d be stupid to ignore.
This place wasn’t a mere cavern. This was a lair. Something lived here.
Panic crawled over me like a thousand ants. I rubbed at my throat, my eyes darting around. I didn’t think I had company right now, but that could easily change.
Keep your head straight, Talon had silently warned us all.
Right. Okay. Taking a centering breath, I considered the facts. Lair or not, this was also the heart of the labyrinth. That meant that its door to the outside world had to be here somewhere. I just needed to find it.
I kept walking, keeping my eyes peeled for anything that looked like a possible door or hatch. The whole time, my pulse raced with a harsh sense of urgency. Come on, come on, where is it?
I paused as my peripheral vision picked up on something. A doorframe. There was no door, just a rock wall. Or so it appeared. This had to be it, though, didn’t it?
I pushed at the wall within the frame. Nothing. It stayed put. Didn’t budge or rattle.
I skimmed my shaking fingers around the frame, searching for some sign of a locking mechanism that—
I went still as the hairs on the back of my neck lifted. I realized then that it wasn’t only my own breathing I could hear.
I wasn’t alone.