The Fated and the Fallen (The Fates of Aetherium #1)

PROLOGUE

Iwonder if it will hurt.

Intimate thoughts of her impending death were a new normal for Hazel Callahan, but this time it weighed her down with a sort of finality she couldn’t shake.

The hedge at her back slammed shut with an otherworldly groan, sealing her off from the brutish guards who’d shoved her inside only moments before. Hazel sighed, resigning herself to wondering not if she would die today, but whether she would feel it.

There was no sense in turning back. With the hedge closed behind her and the crowd gone, only the maze remained. Well, the maze and Hazel’s fellow competitors, that is. And anything else awaiting within.

Moonlight vanished as though swallowed by the dense, living walls around her. Their enchanted boughs glowed faintly, providing the only light up the pathway before her. The air was oppressively heavy, carrying the smell of wet soil, damp rot, and decaying leaf matter—sweet, cloying, and wrong.

Survive. Get to the center. Drink the vial.

The instructions were simple, which scared her. Worse still, the rules were few; nothing of consequence was off limits—except quitting. Quitting was grounds for disqualification.

Hazel’s thoughts shattered as a scream of agony rang out somewhere in the maze, sending a shiver up her spine. She took a deep, steadying breath, her hand rising to where her silver locket rested below her tunic. Slaide’s words echoed in her mind…

Whatever you do, don’t stop moving. The hedge feeds on stillness… and fear.

She took one step forward. Then another. Left. Right. Pause. Listen. It made for slow progress, but it was as safe as anything could be in this gods-forsaken hedge. A few more steps and she would be at the first intersection—and met with her first choice of this trial. Left or right?

The vines weaving overhead rustled, drawing Hazel’s attention.

All around her, the living hedge heaved as though breathing, and with each breath…

the path forward narrowed. Okay, fine. So, slow and steady is going to get me devoured by a bush.

Got it. But as she picked up the pace, so did the hedge.

Its breathing intensified, matching the thunderous beating of her heart as she power-walked her way to the intersection.

Something burst forth from the hedge behind her, crashing to the ground in a heap of clattering armor. It was a knight, presumably a guard from beyond the hedge.

“Damn you, Perry! Let me back out this instant or I’ll—” His words ended violently as a beast of smoke and shadow leaped upon him out of nowhere, engulfing every bit of the man with its incorporeal form. She couldn’t see him, but his screams from within the ball of shadow told her enough.

Hazel backed away, afraid to turn her back on it or make any sudden movement that might draw its attention.

It wasn’t like she could peel her eyes away, anyway.

She’d never witnessed something so foul, its shadows like Slaide’s but moving of their own volition, no master to return to.

Its body continually shifted, but there were no arms or legs to be seen.

She’d never claimed to be a graceful person, and unfortunately the threat of being in a life-or-death situation didn’t change that fact. A twig crunched underfoot, and it might have been the loudest thing she’d ever heard.

Shit.

Time halted. The monster before her paused its feast before turning on her with agonizing slowness. Its murderous gaze landed on her, two haunting red orbs assessing as it stared her down.

All bets were off as Hazel spun on her heel, nearly tripping in her haste to get away.

Run, run, run. She dashed to the end of the aisle just as screams erupted to her right. Her locket warmed against her skin. Left it is then. She didn’t stop, pivoting around the corner—

And slamming fully into a hedge wall. A dead end.

Hazel righted herself, pulling out of the hedge branch by branch, feeling the panic rise in her throat as each second ticked by that she wasn’t free of its grip.

And as the shadowy creature rounded the corner, her fear doubled.

It crept forward in true predator form: slowly… and with malice in its crimson eyes.

As luck would have it, the hedge itself entered the fray, sending small snakelike vines to wrap around her ankles. The more she fought to get free, the harder the hedge pulled. But she wouldn’t use magic here. Not yet. So brute force might be her best option.

It was, in fact, not her best option. Before she knew it, her limbs became fully entangled, the hedge pulling her in as if to swallow her whole. On the bright side—if there was one—the shadow beast stopped its pursuit upon seeing it had lost its prey to the bushes.

For a moment, only her face remained beyond the wall. But with a tug, Hazel found herself ensconced in darkness, pulled through a seemingly endless assault of boughs and branches.

This is it. She wasn’t na?ve. Hazel knew, realistically, she wouldn’t make it out of this trial alive.

She just hadn’t expected to die so soon.

When would the pain begin? Did the hedge have a stomach?

Did its leaves produce human-digesting acid that would break her down bit by agonizing bit, slowly until there was nothing left?

Would it spit her bones out when it was done?

Around her, the hedge shuddered and groaned. Then, all at once, everything froze. Even the hedge’s breathing paused. Like it was thinking. Listening. Checking to see if its prey is still alive, probably.

A slender, serpentine vine slithered up to her face before wiping away a tiny droplet of blood where a thorn had scraped her cheek. She shuddered at the touch as the little vine retreated.

And then Hazel was moving again as another particularly ambitious vine yanked her abruptly by the ankle. Clawlike branches grappled with her leathers, seeking purchase against the smooth material and snagging at her auburn hair. They whipped and clawed across her face, making her eyes water.

Unexpectedly, and with a great heaving effort by the hedge, Hazel was expelled on the other side. She patted herself down in disbelief that she could be both alive and whole. But she was. It was all the encouragement she needed to get moving again.

Keep moving. Survive.

As she rounded the next corner, she heard a faint sound, unlike any of the screams or cries for help she’d grown accustomed to. No, this was a softer voice, more like a child than a man. But surely no child could have accidentally wandered in…

“Is anyone there?” the voice called. Unless Hazel’s ears deceived her, a young girl had found her way into the maze. It didn’t matter how, because the child didn’t stand a chance and would more than likely suffer a brutal death within this hedge.

Hazel sighed. They’d tossed her into this trial with a bunch of selfish, ruthless men.

The likelihood of even a single one of them coming to the girl’s aid was slim.

Was she foolish to involve herself? Probably.

But she couldn’t live with the vision of a child being mercilessly torn apart by monsters.

So, she turned toward the voice. As if on cue, the girl called out again.

“Hello? Is anyone there? I’m lost.” She sniffled as though fighting tears.

Hazel ran toward the voice, which sounded closer the second time. But when she rounded the corner, she met another dead end, and there was no child in sight.

“Please help me,” the girl called again. Only this time, the voice came from behind her. But… she could have sworn…

Damn hedges messing with my head. Somewhere, far too close, Hazel thought she heard a low, beastly growl. The hair on her arms stood on end and her locket warmed in warning, but she willed her feet to move. She might not be the only one hunting for the child.

Hazel doubled back in the direction she’d come from. But without warning, the hedge wall slammed shut before her, simultaneously opening an alternative path to her left. She did the only reasonable thing and changed course, pausing only to listen for the child… who’d gone concerningly quiet.

Frustrated, Hazel broke her own silence. “Hello? Are you still there? I’m trying to find you,” she called. For a moment, it was eerily quiet.

Then, the girl cried out, “I’m over here!” sounding somewhere up ahead.

Hazel tore off toward the voice again, noting how the air grew cooler and heavier the further she pressed on. The walls were closer together too.

But she pushed on, turning sideways to shuffle through the narrowest parts. Eventually, the path opened into a small clearing. In the center was a crumbling fountain. And just beyond…

The crown of a dark-haired head peeked just over the stone rim.

Hazel almost leaped out of her skin with excitement. “Hey!” she called to the girl, more a whisper than a shout. “I’m here to help.”

But the child did not respond. She didn’t so much as move at the sound of Hazel’s voice.

Perplexed, Hazel rounded the side of the fountain, carefully approaching the child’s hiding spot. But what awaited her stole her breath.

A woman, not a child, sat before her, knees pulled to her chest. The woman’s head hung low.

She was rocking slightly… and humming. Her kohl-black hair was soaking wet as though she’d just crawled out of the ruined fountain…

and she was naked. Completely, utterly naked, her sickly pale skin drawn taut over her bones.

Hazel recalled something else Slaide had told her earlier in the day: trust nothing and no one. Your own senses will betray you if you let them…

A chill crawled up her spine as unease coiled in her belly. She’d ignored the heating locket, assuming it was due to some other threatening beast lurking about. But something was wrong here.

“Ruuuuuunnnnnnn,” hissed a whisper-like voice in the breeze. But she had so many questions, and even though this wasn’t the child she’d come for, she worried the woman still needed help.

Hazel reached out to touch her, to see if she was awake—or alive, for that matter. But before she made contact, the humming stopped.

She froze, hand outstretched.

The woman looked up at her slowly, her tangled black hair parting around her face. She was skin and bone, her sunken cheeks painting a portrait of a tortured soul.

Her eyes left Hazel speechless. Two milky, sightless orbs stared up at her with an eerie, unnatural awareness.

And then she smiled, revealing multiple rows of jagged, needle-like teeth.

Hazel had walked right into a trap.

The woman lunged for her, teeth gnashing just inches from her body. She stumbled backward and nearly fell, somehow keeping her feet beneath her.

And then she was running. Hazel ran like she should have the moment the strange feeling crawled over her. She made up for it by sprinting now, rushing around corners with reckless abandon.

She paused for a moment to catch her breath and check if she was still being pursued, only to hear the woman calling after her using the same childlike voice from before.

“Come out, come out. I just want to play,” she called in a sing-song voice. “Won’t you play with me?”

Hazel turned corner after corner, dodging vines and grappling roots as they tried to obstruct her path.

She veered right, peering over her shoulder as she ran, checking for any signs of the woman on her tail.

As she rounded the next corner, the sight renewed her hope. Just ahead, on a stump in the center of a glade, sat three glorious vials.

Thundering footsteps sounded behind her, urging her forward once more. She wouldn’t have long before the creature was upon her again.

As she reached the vials, she found a piece of parchment nailed to the stump. A letter.

No, a riddle.

Shit. I do not have time for this!

But she read it anyway.

One vial glows with ruby light,

A single drop brings pain and plight.

One swirls like smoke, a candle’s breath,

Its kiss is cold, its promise death.

One is plain and clear like glass

Still as frost on untouched grass.

Beauty lies and shadows cheat,

Only one will grant retreat.

She looked at the vials. It was simple enough. Too simple. One was ruby red. One was a swirling mix of gray and black, like someone had bottled a shadow. And the last one was perfectly clear, like water. She reached for it, her heart pounding in her chest.

But what if this riddle was designed to mislead? What if she drank the wrong one?

The monster burst through the hedge wall and ran for her, snarling. In a few good leaps, it would be upon her.

Hazel supposed it didn’t matter if the riddle was a trick. She’d either escape, die of poison, or become dinner for a monster.

She grasped the vial of clear liquid with shaking hands, popping the cork. Just before she tipped it back, the entire labyrinth inhaled collectively as though holding its breath.

Hazel swallowed the bitter liquid, using everything she had not to spit it out. Around her, the walls exhaled a strange breathy sound, drawn out like a yawn.

Reeeee-aaaahhhhh.

A warning? Perhaps a name? Not hers, though, so it didn’t matter. Unless it was a warning. Unless…

She shuddered, her vision tunneling. Stars danced across her eyes, and the sensation of floating overcame her. She was almost certain she’d chosen wrong. But she didn’t care. It wasn’t her problem anymore.

All around her, the world fell away, and everything went black…

ONE WEEK EARLIER…