Chapter 15
Some time later, a roar yanks me from sleep.
I jerk into a sit and scrub at my eyes. Scrub at my eyes some more.
Another roar splits the air. My bleary gaze swings to the ravine.
The toad-creatures have gone. Now the Shadow paces along the far edge, clods of dirt falling away beneath his claws. He roars again, the lines of his body vibrating with energy, his eyes dull with mindless rage.
I shake my head to clear the muzziness of sleep. My hunter has found me, as expected, but…it’s bright. Midday bright. Maybe even early afternoon.
Oh, goddess.
I scramble to my feet, my bracelet consuming all my attention. From the looks of it, I’ve used another eighth of my time. Now only three-quarters remains.
Regret lances into me, a sharpness that has me pressing a fist to my belly. Ishanna’s blood, why didn’t the Shadow get to me sooner? How did I manage to sleep for so long?
I pinch between my eyes, trying to stave off the frantic breaths piling into me.
I’ve used up six or seven hours, probably—hours I can’t get back.
But then again, what choice did I have? I had to rest, and I couldn’t have returned to the castle.
Not without burning up more of the gyre’s rings. Not without risking everything.
No, I did the only thing I could have. Now it’s done, and it can’t be undone. Best to just move forward.
With that decided, I breathe deep and sneak another glance at the Shadow. His claws scrabble at the brink as he leans out into nothing.
I press a hand to my mouth. If he plummets into that canyon, he’ll die.
Both of them will.
The thought strikes a chill into my heart, and I turn to the tree door, my hand already on the knob. Once I pass through, the Shadow will backtrack, hunt me from some new direction. Even now, his roars rise to a frenzy, as if he can sense his prey passing beyond his reach.
Who knows. Maybe he can. Maybe he understands that much, even in his cursed state.
I turn the handle, my stance already braced against whatever awaits me, the door creaking open slowly. Beyond it lies gloom and shadows, a carpet of dead leaves. Musty air blasts against my face, assaulting me with the cloying stench of decay.
I recoil. Ishanna help me, but it’s the shadow place. Again.
Bile floods my throat. I shove it down, try to force myself forward, but every step feels like wading through mud. I don’t know that I can make myself go in there. But this is the only door I have, the only choice available. Unless…
I frown, the glimmer of an idea catching in my mind. The Shadow said doors never open to the same place twice.
I back away and yank this one shut, then count to ten, turn the handle, and push it open again.
And stare.
A cheerful-looking meadow spreads before me, bright with tall grass and dotted with gauzy flowers. A stately marble building waits at the far end, complete with a shiny gold door and slender marble columns.
An awed sound slips from my throat. I’ll take anything but the nightmare forest. Anything.
I step through, then swivel to catch one last glimpse of the Shadow. He snarls, his fangs catching the light, and while I know it’s not him, that I’ve already said my goodbyes to the version of him that matters, my heart squeezes out an extra beat, anyway.
Then the door swings shut. And dissolves into thin air.
A shiver flits across my skin. I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to that.
Birds twitter all around me. Sunlight bathes my face, warming me, inviting me to turn toward the building. With its soaring columns and peaked roof, it almost reminds me of my temple back home.
I make my way toward it. Long grass grazes my thighs, tickling at me through my leather pants, while the scent of nectar sweetens the air. A breeze tugs at the laces of my shirt as if inviting me to play.
It’s a lie, of course, this friendliness. I know that. But for a moment—just one—I imagine I’ve made it back to Aethrolia. To normality. Predictability. Safety.
Then, with a clench of my jaw, I sweep the fantasy aside. I’ve used up too many hours sleeping, and need to claw some back.
At the foot of the building’s shallow steps, I pause. What if another maze awaits inside? Last time, I wished I’d left a trail of pebbles, something to mark my way, and I don’t want to get caught unprepared again.
A quick search reveals plenty of tiny rocks strewn around my feet. I pile them into one of my many pockets, grateful for the storage space my clothes provide.
These pants may be ridiculous, and make me look like a heathen, but goddess, they’re also practical. At least for navigating a maze that’s actively trying to kill me.
Still, I can’t wait to burn them at the end.
I approach the golden door, which swings open at my touch. Inside, a long, ornate corridor stretches toward a semicircular landing. The stairs beyond descend to what looks like some kind of hall. From here, I can’t make out the specifics, but the whole scene looks innocuous enough.
It isn’t, of course. Nothing in this place is, but I step through anyway, slipping into cool shadows tinged with the scent of lemon. The door shuts behind me and promptly disappears.
My gut clenches. No way out. And while I knew that was coming, it doesn’t make it any less unsettling.
I inch along the passageway, my breath held, halfway expecting something to jump out at me.
Then again, there aren’t many places for an attacker to hide.
Tapestries unfurl along the walls, bookended by unlit candelabras, but the hall only runs in one direction.
No alcoves or branching corridors to contend with.
I creep toward the stairs, the hush broken only by the growl of my stomach. I frown, because…when did I last eat?
Well, over a week ago, technically. But I haven’t sipped from the golden elixir in more than a day, either.
Goddess, no wonder my belly is gnawing a hole in itself. I’m not just hungry, I’m starving.
I dig into my pocket for the golden vial, tipping a few drops past my lips. The liquid goes down easy, filling my stomach, banishing the dryness from my throat.
My shoulders relax a fraction. One less thing to worry about, at least until tomorrow.
But when I cork the vial, my fingers fumble, the bottle clattering to the tile. It doesn’t shatter, just rolls down the hall, headed for the stairs.
Ice blooms in my chest. I can’t lose it. I dive to all fours, scrambling after the tiny bottle, my fingers straining as it crests the stairs. But I miss, my fist closing around nothing, and the vial goes falling—
Up?
The tinkle of shattering glass sounds from somewhere overhead.
I crane my neck to find the vial stuck to the ceiling, its glass smashed, its elixir spreading across the stone.
And that’s not all that’s wrong up there, because I’m staring at yet another staircase, this one upside-down.
As I watch, the puddle expands, then flows upward to a higher stair, and the next.
As if gravity has reversed itself a mere foot in front of me.
Ishanna’s blood. Maybe in this place, it actually has.
I shrink back, squinting through the shadows to the hall below.
This close, I can tell it consists entirely of stairs.
Not just descending, but marching sideways along the walls, swooping from the ceiling, ascending to nowhere.
Stairways climb through and around one another, a dizzying tangle of nonsense.
The hair on the back of my neck lifts. I don’t like this.
At all. And while I mourn the loss of my vial, the way I lost it creates a much more pressing problem.
If I step onto those stairs and follow the bottle’s trajectory, I’ll fall upward into the ceiling.
At which point the impact will shatter me, too.
A threadbare laugh sticks in my throat. I survey the staircases again, my mind churning.
Surely there’s a way through this. I only have to find it.
Then I remember the rocks I gathered. The pebbles drag at my pocket, just begging to be used.
I fish one out and roll it along the floor, recreating the path of the vial. At the top of the stairs, it trembles for half a second, then falls up, whooshing through the air and clacking against the ceiling, right beside my ruined vial.
I sit back, my hands propped on my knees. I clearly can’t go that way without suffering the same fate, but the landing here curves outward, the stairs dropping away not just in front of me, but to both sides, as well.
I roll a pebble off to the left.
This time, when it reaches the top stair, it sails sideways, pinging against a staircase that runs along the wall. It doesn’t travel far—four feet, at most.
My chest fills with a complex tangle of horror and hope. Maybe I can go that way, if needed. Better than splatting against the ceiling, at least.
But I try the righthand option, too. That pebble bounces down the steps, only to swerve upward at the bottom and clack against the ceiling from an even greater distance.
My stomach wobbles. No, thanks.
A left it is.
I creep along the floor on hands and knees, so cautious my progress would probably irritate a snail. When I near the stairs, the air shifts, all my organs canting sideways as gravity tips—
I fall.
The world whirls as I spin into nothing. A second later, I crash against solid stone, my knee taking the brunt of the impact.
A yelp shoots from my mouth as I clutch at my throbbing leg. I didn’t fall far, but I didn’t think to orient myself so my feet would hit first, either. Now I curl on my side, cradling my knee, waiting for the pain to subside.
Only…it doesn’t. Not really.