Chapter 95 Taera
Taera
Dashing through mirrored hallways, I fight to keep the image of Nikolai, and the labyrinth, at the forefront of my mind. The Halls twist and turn, as though they’re tormenting me with the chaos inside me.
After minutes of this, gasping for breath, I’m forced to slow down.
This desert-damned place won’t take me there.
I hear the telltale crackling of blood glass behind me and try to soothe my mind, but nothing works.
I have to continue at a brisk pace to stay ahead of the dangerous crystals. The crystals that took Omi’s magic.
Hatred surges through me—hatred toward the Halls, hatred toward myself.
It should have been me, not Omi. They wanted to stay here more than I ever did.
My tears threaten to spill again, and I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it continues to grow until my face is contorted by crying.
The passages become more and more convoluted.
Finally, I force myself to a complete stop and close my eyes. If I can’t focus, this is all for nothing. I can’t fight the Halls; I have to surrender to them.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please, bring me to Nikolai.”
Slowly, at an agonizing pace, I walk down the hallway. Please, Halls of Glass, please.
The corridor turns, then shifts into something I’ve never seen before: a shimmering blue rounded hallway. I follow the icy path as it turns—ending directly outside the entrance of the labyrinth. Hope sparks in my chest.
Thank you.
I’m halfway to the entry arch of the labyrinth when a gruff voice shouts. “The labyrinth is forbidden!” Master Koroy is standing to one side, beady eyes narrowed.
“But Nikolai is in there,” I say.
“No one has been in or out of the labyrinth in hours.”
Even if the master believes that, I don’t.
Nikolai is too powerful to let even a master get in his way.
If only I could also turn invisible, or at least distract him.
Koroy strides closer. With none of my magician’s tricks at my disposal, I only have one chance.
I bolt toward the entrance to the labyrinth.
“Stop!” Koroy shouts after me. He’s faster than I give him credit for, and darts out in front of me before I can make it. I think wildly, but only come up with one terrible plan.
I brace myself, squeezing my eyes closed, and stretch a hand out for when we collide. This is going to hurt.
My hand touches Koroy’s shoulder, and my magic cracks through me like a whip, snapping us apart. I cry out, echoing the master’s yelp, but don’t let myself stop running, even as the world tilts dangerously around me.
Koroy recovers quicker than he should, barking, “Come back!”
I’m so close, only a few seconds away.
Bricks start appearing out of thin air. They tile together, forming a massive wall to stop anyone from entering the labyrinth. I skid to a stop. The archway is completely blocked. Master Koroy is catching up behind me, a master illusionist intent on stopping me.
Illusionist.
It’s just an illusion.
Holy desert, if I’m wrong, I’m going to regret this.
Going against all instincts, I close my eyes and charge the solid wall of stone. I desperately imagine the open archway—it still has to be there—as I build up too much speed to stop.
It’s just an illusion.
It’s just—
Agony detonates in my face and torso. The impact shatters my breath, breaks my nose, fractures my skull—
But while all of my senses lurch, my stomach goes weightless like I’m falling.
My knees hit the stone ground, jarring me back to lucidity.
I’ve tumbled through the wall.
What was real? What wasn’t?
My body is a confused whirlwind of pain. I force my feet under me, straighten my legs, and take off into the labyrinth.
Did I hit the wall because I believed in it, but fall through because I didn’t? I don’t have time to think about it.
I don’t look back.
I don’t dare look back.
The central corridor of the glass maze reflects me from every angle. My mind tilts, fighting dizziness, and I stumble. I take the first turn I can, then another, then another, until I’m certain the master could only have followed if the labyrinth wanted him to.
I’m completely at the mercy of the Halls of Glass now.
My head is slowly clearing. The excruciating pain from my false injuries has disappeared, leaving only the sharp ache in my knees. My dizziness recedes, and I’m able to turn my attention to finding Nikolai within the maze.
I turn right and then left. Then left and right again.
The hopelessness of my task engulfs me. How am I supposed to find anything amidst these winding corridors, let alone Nikolai?
It’s as though I’m walking through my own tangled mind again; the twisting maze is like a sentient monster.
The walls shift even as I walk within them, confusing me further. I have no idea how I’ll find Nikolai.
Then I see him.
“Nikolai,” I breathe, and leap down the hallway toward him. “Nikolai!”
A jarring force rams into me—a mirror—the magician I’m chasing is just a reflection. My own reflection is beside his.
We’re riding in a carriage, lying on the sand together and gazing at the stars, walking through this very maze. The flood of memories engulfs me, dragging me toward comfort like warm hands, but it’s a lie. I know it’s a lie.
I clench my eyes closed, trying to clear my head. I try to remember how I ever resisted the pull of the desert, moons ago, how I once resisted Nikolai.
“What do you need me to do?” I whisper aloud, placing my palm to the mirror. “I choose him. I choose Nikolai. Please, just let me find him.”
When I look up, I see him again. My reflection is no longer at his side.
He’s striding through the labyrinth with determination.
His expression is darker, tormented, and his mirror image follows a few steps behind.
I know in an instant that this is the true Nikolai.
He follows a winding path of the labyrinth, only a few glass walls ahead of me.
I rush forward to catch up with him, taking turns toward his fragmented image. But when I finally reach him, I stop. He’s not on the same path as me, after all. Rather, his path is inside the moving walls of my own maze.
I thump my fists against the glass separating us, shouting to him. His gaze skims past me, unseeing, and he continues.
“Nikolai!” I scream. “I’m here. Please!”
But the only attention I catch is that of the blood glass, which sparkles to life in the edges of the corridor. Shakily, I breathe myself calm, slowing its advance.
I have to jog to keep up alongside Nikolai’s long strides as he paces through the walls. I’m close enough I could reach out and touch his shoulder, if only I could get past the glass. The Halls gave me what I asked for. I found Nikolai. Yet I still can’t reach him.
I search for imperfections in the glass, for hidden doors, anything that might let me reach him. But my own hallway leads to a dead end, and I’m forced to come to a stop as Nikolai goes on, oblivious to my desperate cries of his name.
“Please,” I pant out between sobs. “Please…”
But the wall of glass between us doesn’t yield. Nikolai continues on without me, fractaling out of sight.