Chapter 3 The Maze Returns. #2
For a moment, I was speechless. So he was a member of The New Foundation, like Katrina.
I wasn’t surprised; he hated Selene, Borealis in general and the House system.
But the way his tone switched to such a pleading softness, I saw the boy I knew, truly for the first time since I had awoken, and he was scared.
Scared of his responsibilities, scared of what could happen.
But I had changed since the night of the Summer Ball.
I wasn’t the same girl. The girl he knew had never truly known danger, had never had to make her own hard choices with life-or-death consequences, and the girl he knew had never taken a life.
I wasn’t the same innocent flower witch.
“I understand your concern, Dylan,” I began, “And I appreciate it. I do. But here, in this maze, you aren’t in charge. The maze is. I think I can help us get out of here alive, and so I have to try,” I told him.
I needed to get back to Selene. My side still burned with the ache I knew she was experiencing. Whatever True North, The New Foundation, or any other rebellion had planned or wanted me for was irrelevant. I wasn’t theirs, and I could never betray Selene.
All that mattered was escaping the maze, then I had to figure out how to find Selene and get us both to safety. Pain was irrelevant. My stupid, probably broken, leg was irrelevant. I would crawl to her if I had to.
“I agree with Percy,” Fredrick said.
Dylan pulled me closer to him.
“I said no,” he protested.
“Let me go, Dylan,” I demanded.
“Listen to her,” Fredrick warned, his tone unforgiving, and he stepped closer.
There was nearly a whole minute of silence while the two of them held eye contact like dumb, angry animals, before Dylan exhaled loudly and released me carelessly from his hold. Luckily, Fredrick was there to catch me to avoid my falling.
“What do you need?” he asked softly, taking me a few steps away from Dylan.
“I’m going to try to use my magic, maybe I can feel the walls of the maze like I can feel the roots of a plant,” I suggested. “I need to put my hands on the maze wall,” I told him.
He nodded and led me a few steps towards the twisting wall that had killed their friend or colleague or whatever they were to each other; Fredrick and Dylan certainly didn’t give off friendly vibes between them.
I placed both my hands heavily against the wall. I was so unbalanced with only one leg, and somehow the pain seemed to affect my stability more. Fredrick stepped back as if scared to be near me or the wall.
I let my magic flow. I tried to feel the wall. But all I felt were the weeds and small grasses of the ground beneath us, which grew up lush against the wall as I tried to use my magic.
I almost groaned in frustration. I was already breathing heavily; it was far more exertion than I expected. I had what felt like near-zero magical energy within me.
My only option at this rate was to gather my magic. The maze was death; my magic, when gathered, was also death. Maybe then I could feel the maze, maybe then I could control it in some way. I took my hands from the wall and bunched my fists at my side, balancing on one leg.
I began to concentrate, and surprisingly, I felt my magic gather in my palms with little effort. I knew what it felt like now, the pressure, the coldness that would flow from me.
“Everything okay?” Fredrick asked, concern in his voice.
“Yeah,” I gasped, not realising I had been holding my breath.
“Right, this is ridiculous, stop this now,” Dylan commanded as he gripped my shoulder.
His grip pushed me off balance, and I reached out to grip the wall to stop from falling, releasing what I had gathered.
My cold magic was nearly as cold as the maze wall.
It was the most astounding of sensations; it was like two threads of cold, something close to a root system in sheer range, but so far different, it was also inconceivable. I couldn’t ever accurately describe it. But it was moving and pulsing and communicating with itself, with me.
‘Open,’ I commanded internally. Just a thought, really. Like when speaking with Heidi. I hoped it heard me. I hoped it understood.
The wall I leaned against began to vibrate, as if in answer.
‘Open,’ I demanded again, stronger.
I felt myself being pulled away from the wall by an arm around my waist as Fredrick turned me, and the wall crashed back into the ground.
“What’s happening? What did you do?” Dylan asked.
The sound of the maze became overwhelming, the groaning and moving of so much mass of stone. I clamped my hands over my ears. Fredrick held me steady as the ground rumbled beneath us.
Amongst the chaos, the roar of the shaking earth, a clear, straight path appeared before us.
“Follow it,” I told Fredrick.
“Can I carry you?” he asked.
I nodded before he lifted me easily into his arms and began to follow the path quickly.
It opened more and more as we walked. Dylan walked to our side and, for once, stopped speaking.
We moved with speed and purpose; the maze had answered me, and it was releasing us.
It wasn’t long before the long stretch came to a dead end.
At the end, the wall before us, blocking our exit, began to shake and groan, then cracked in half, and the noise of the outside world flooded in: the sound of fire and panic, and the erratic, slow pop, pop, pop of gunfire.
Night had fallen entirely. Only the cloudless sky, stars, moon, and orange-red fires provided light.
“How long were we in the maze?” I asked.
It felt like I had lost the entire afternoon.
Daylight had been fading faster and faster each day, making it difficult for me to keep track of time by daylight alone.
I wondered, with worry, if at some point in the deepest of winter, Ardens became like an eternal night.