Chapter 44 Danica
Danica
Rhyland and I pop out of the portal like a couple of spitballs, emerging into calm waters that feel like a damn spa compared to the toilet-flush ride we just took.
I have no idea where the hell we are or what Water Gate we just stumbled through, but at this point, I'm just happy to be alive and not drowning in some interdimensional plumbing.
For a moment, I'm unsure which way is up, my head spinning like I just got off a particularly wild carnival ride. My lungs are screaming at me, burning like I just inhaled a pack of cigarettes and chased it with a shot of battery acid.
Rhyland, bless his heart. He seems to have a better sense of direction than I do.
He grabs my hand, his grip solid and reassuring, and drags me upwards.
I kick behind him, trying to help, but let's be real—he's doing most of the work.
The man's built like a fucking tank, and his powerful strokes cut through the water like a hot knife.
The surface seems impossibly far away, a distant glimmer of light that taunts me with its promise of sweet, sweet air.
My lungs are on fire, screaming at me to just take a breath already, but I know that's a one-way ticket to Drowning City.
So I grit my teeth and keep kicking, trusting Rhyland to get us there before I pass out from lack of oxygen.
Finally, we break the surface. I gulp in a massive lungful of air, coughing and sputtering like a drowned rat. Rhyland pulls me close, his strong arms wrapping around me as he leads us toward the edge of whatever body of water we've found ourselves in.
I have no damn clue where we are. For all I know, we could be in Narnia. All that matters is that we're alive and one step closer to figuring out this "Siren's Lyre" business.
As we get closer to the edge, I take in our surroundings. We're in some underground cavern, the walls slick with moisture and glowing with an eerie blue light. It's like something out of a sci-fi movie, all alien and otherworldly.
"Where the hell are we?" I ask, my voice echoing off the walls.
Rhyland shakes his head. His brow furrows in concentration as he scans the area for signs of danger. "I don't know," he admits."But whatever this freaky-ass place is, we need to keep our eyes peeled and guard up. No telling what nasty surprises it might have in store for us."
I nod, my senses on high alert. We may have survived that Water Gate, but something tells me we're not out of the woods yet. Or the water, as the case may be.
Rhyland boosts me onto solid ground as we reach the edge with an almost insulting ease. I mean, I know I'm not exactly a heavyweight, but damn. The man makes it look like he's lifting a feather instead of a full-grown woman.
I flop onto my back, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.
Rhyland hauls himself up beside me, water streaming off his muscular form in rivulets.
He looks like some fucking sea god, all glistening skin and rippling muscles.
It's enough to make a girl forget all about her near-death experience.
"Well, that was fun," My voice raspy. "Let's never do that again, yeah?"
Rhyland just grunts, his eyes scanning our surroundings with a wary intensity. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out where the hell we are and what kind of trouble we've landed ourselves in this time.
But for now, I'm content to lie here and breathe, letting the solid ground beneath me anchor me back to reality. Because let's face it—after the mind-fuck of those reflection pools and the wild ride through the Water Gate, I could use a bit of boring old reality.
Of course, knowing our luck, that's probably too much to ask for.
Rhyland reaches out his hand to me. "We need to find this fucking key and get the hell out of Dodge, Angel. This place gives me the creeps, and I don't want to stick around long enough to find out why."
I nod, taking his hand, and he pulls me to my feet. "Agreed, and not in a fun, haunted house way."
We make our way deeper into the cavern, the walls narrowing until it feels like they're closing in on us. Our footsteps bounce off the stone, echoing in the eerie silence.
I glance around, my eyes widening as I take in the scene.
Dead skeletal remains are scattered everywhere, littering the ground like some kind of screwed-up Halloween decoration.
I grip Rhyland's arm, trying to get his attention without losing my shit completely.
"Look," I hiss, my voice barely above a whisper.
I watch Rhyland's gaze sweep the area, his jaw clenching tighter every second. "This can't be fucking good." I can practically feel the tension radiating off him in waves, his every muscle coiled and ready to act at the first sign of trouble.
"Oh, you think?" I shoot back. "What gave it away, the piles of bones or the fact that we're trapped in a murder tunnel with no way out?"
Rhyland looks at me, "Now is not the time for your sass, woman."
I can tell he's on edge, every inch of him primed and ready for a fight. And honestly, I can't blame him. This place is giving me the heebie-jeebies like nobody's business.
We see a narrow fissure in the rock filled with a dark, swirling mist that sets my nerves on edge. "Well, that looks inviting," I mutter, eyeing the ominous gap with a healthy dose of skepticism.
As we step closer, the mist seems to come alive, whispering and hissing like a nest of snakes. Then, out of nowhere, a voice rings out, clear as a bell.
"Only one may answer—three riddles you must solve to pass through this gate. Each answer will stop a blade, but beware, for if you're late, the blades will swing again, and more will drop down, trapping you within this deadly town."
Oh, isn't this just adorable? A rhyming mist? What's next, a singing fog machine?
Then, the universe decides to flip me the bird and the mist parts like the Red Sea, revealing a set of blades that begin to swing like a deadly pendulum.
They look like they were ripped straight out of a horror movie.
"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me," I groan.
"A deadly pop quiz. Just what I always wanted. "
Rhyland's jaw clenches so hard I'm surprised his teeth don't shatter, his eyes narrowing as he studies the fissure like it insulted his mother. "Stay calm," he murmurs, his hand tightening around mine until I'm sure my fingers are turning blue from lack of circulation.
I shoot him an incredulous look, my eyebrows climbing so high they're practically merging with my hairline. "Stay calm? Are you kidding me right now?" I screech. "We're trapped in a fucking murder tunnel with no way out, and you want me to stay calm?"
Rhyland gives me a look, saying, "I'm the alpha male here, and I know what I'm doing." Which is complete and utter bullshit. But hey, if it makes him feel better to pretend like he's got this under control, who am I to burst his bubble?
"We can't afford to lose our shit right now," his voice low and steady, like he's trying to talk me down from the ledge of a full-blown freak-out. "Panicking will only make this whole fucked-up situation worse."
I let out a bark of laughter that sounds more than a little unhinged, even to my ears. "Worse? How could things possibly get any worse than this?" I gesture wildly at the swinging blades, the piles of bones—the whole fucked-up situation we've found ourselves in.
Rhyland shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You'd be surprised," his tone dry. "Trust me, baby. We've got this."
The blades swing back and forth like they're trying out for the world's deadliest pendulum competition, each pass getting closer to turning us into human sashimi.
I whip my head around, desperately searching for another way out, but it's like we're trapped in a goddamn Saw movie.
The walls are closing in, the tunnel narrowing until it feels like we're stuck in a freaking straw, and the only way out is through the murder hole.
The voice echoes through the cavern again, the first riddle hanging in the air like a noose.
"I flow without a form; my light ignites the storm. What am I?"
I scowl at the riddle, my brain doing its best impression of a hamster on a wheel as it tries to make sense of the clue.
"Flow without a form... light ignites the storm.
.. Hell, I don't know. Electricity?" I throw out, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I'll get lucky and the universe will decide to cut me a break for once.
But, of course, the blades keep swinging, their deadly arcs getting closer and closer. The panic claws its way up my throat, my heart pounding like it's trying to break out of my chest and make a run for it.
"Wrong answer," the voice intones, and I swear I can hear the sadistic glee from every word. "Try again."
I take a deep breath, trying to force myself to focus past the mind-numbing terror coursing through my veins.
What the hell flows without form?
I dig deep into the recesses of my mind, dusting off that analytical part of my brain that I love so much but always seems to short-circuit at the worst possible moments.
Light, storm... Shit. Come on, Dani, think! And then, like a jolt, it hits me. "Okay, okay. Flow without a form... light ignites the storm... Wait, could it be... water?"
The moment the word leaves my lips, one of the blades shudders to a stop, frozen in place. I let out a whoop of triumph, my pulse racing with adrenaline.
"One down, two to go," Rhyland murmurs, his voice tense. "Keep going, baby. You've got this."
The voice rings again, the second riddle hanging like the Sword of Damocles, just waiting to drop and slice us in half.
"In darkest depths, I softly glow, A beacon for the lost below. What am I, in ocean's keep, That guides the weary from the deep?"
Oh, for fuck's sake.