Chapter 16 Up Is Down?
Up Is Down?
Iwake again when the sun is low in the sky, threatening to dip below the horizon.
The fever has broken. My limbs ache, but I can move.
I quickly bathe and throw on a deep green tunic, too short to be modest, until I find brown leather pants folded neatly beside the hearth.
Thank Rexen. I refuse to die in a dress.
I slide my Pegasus dagger into my boot and strap my two new blades into their leather holsters, resting low against my back, just above my hips. I turn to face the mirror. My reflection stares back, serious as the grave.
The corridor stretches before me, cast in torchlight and shadow.
Night presses down like a weight as we gather before the maze.
The sky above is eerily clear, but the jagged peaks that surround the keep loom like ancient sentinels.
The air smells faintly of damp stone and scorched herbs.
An enormous pair of doors, threaded with ivy and moss, yawns open before us like the mouth of a beast.
Arther stands before it, cloaked in dark leather, his expression unreadable. His sharp eyes sweep over us. “Listen carefully,” he begins, voice calm but heavy. “This is your first Trial. The objective is simple: Make it out of the maze before sunrise—or survive the night.”
Beside me, Cassy takes in a sharp breath. Mariel places a steadying hand on her shoulder.
“You may help one another if you choose,” Arther continues. “But although it’s tempting to stick together… It is strongly encouraged that you face whatever you find in there alone.”
Alone? My stomach twists.
A cold gust rushes down the mountain pass, and I catch Seraphina’s smirk from the corner of my eye. Her braid gleams like polished silver. Her eyes glitter with something too eager to be fear. The wind shifts again, and the torches flicker, their flames dancing sideways.
The air thickens. The ground seems to hum beneath our feet. Cassy grips my arm, her trembling fingers digging into my skin.
Arther steps aside. “Good luck.”
The gates groan open, and vines retract like snakes. The six of us step into the dark.
The walls rise high above our heads, twisted corridors stretching in all directions, impossible to map. The hedges pulse faintly, as if breathing. The torches inside burn blue-green instead of orange, casting shadows that move even when we stand still.
At the first intersection, we pause.
“We should split up,” Seraphina says.
Mariel whips her head around. “Are you insane? That’s the opposite of what we should do.”
“No,” I say slowly, surprising them all. “She’s right. But not all of us. Two groups.”
Tension swells like a storm about to break. No one wants to be the one to say it, but we know it’s the only way to cover ground fast enough, and it’s our best shot at survival. If we all go together, we’ll all die together.
After a beat, they agree. Mariel, Cassy, and I take the left, and Seraphina, Elena, and Vivian take the right. We don’t bother with goodbyes.
It starts with a sound, a low, guttural growl that echoes through the passage like the deep shifting of the earth.
Cassy freezes. “What was that?”
Mariel doesn’t hesitate. “Run!”
The torchlight warps around us as we dash away. Behind us, something crashes through the hedge wall—a hulking shadow with gleaming eyes and rows of jagged teeth. As I round a corner, I glance back to see a wolf the size of a horse, its body stitched together from bark, bone, and bramble.
Cassy screams, and her curved dagger falls from her hands. I quickly swoop down and snatch it up. The hedge beside her comes alive, vines twisting like arms, snaring her wrists and ankles, pulling her in.
“Cassy!”
I rush forward, but Mariel is faster. She grabs a stone and strikes it against her sword, sending sparks hissing into the dry leaves. Fire erupts, forcing the vines to retreat, and Cassy collapses to the ground, coughing violently.
The beast snarls, retreating from the flames, but doesn’t leave. It circles, herding us like prey.
“Dead end!” Mariel shouts.
I spin, heart hammering, as the wolf rounds the corner, staring us down with hungry eyes. I throw Cassy’s curved blade at the beast. The metal sings as it flies through the air and embeds itself in the wolf’s shoulder, but the beast doesn’t even flinch.
A shadow catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. Above, I see a rectangular gap in the ceiling, too high to climb.
But the ground… It’s wrong. Too smooth. Too flat.
“Up is down,” I whisper.
“What?”
“Trust me! On your backs. Lift your feet!”
They hesitate, and the wolf lunges.
I shove them both down. We hit the earth, and gravity bends.
The floor tilts like a hinge snapping open, and we slide backward—upward—through the gap. My breath catches as we’re thrown through an archway. The moment we land, the portal seals behind us, leaving the beast howling on the other side.
Screams pierce the air, and we run. The ground quakes beneath our feet. The path splits—left or right.
“Right!” Mariel yells.
“No—left is right!” I grab her arm, dragging her along.
“What does that mean?” she shouts back.
“Trust me!”
We sprint left, and there they are—Elena and Seraphina huddled over Vivian’s crumpled form. Blood stains the stone beneath her.
I drop to my knees. “Vivian?”
Her lashes flutter.
“She’s alive,” I breathe.
“Barely,” Mariel says, already beside me. She doesn’t hesitate—her fingers find Vivian’s throat with practiced precision, pressing, assessing. “The blade just missed her carotid artery.” Her jaw tightens.
Mariel doesn’t look up. She grips the fabric of her skirt and tears it cleanly, the sound sharp and final.
She folds the cloth once—twice—then presses it carefully to the gash, her touch firm but deliberate.
“Pressure,” she murmurs, as if this is something she’s done before. “Steady. Don’t let it pulse.”
“I need more,” I shout. “Cloth—anything!”
My palms are slick with Vivian’s blood. Her skin is wax-pale, her breaths shallow and uneven.
Elena stands frozen a few paces away, horror widening her eyes.
Meanwhile, Seraphina watches in silence—head tilted, expression unreadable.
As if this is an inconvenience, not a life bleeding out at our feet.
Cassy moves first. She tears a strip from the hem of her dress and tosses it to us. “Here!”
Mariel uses it to secure the bandage, wrapping it carefully around Vivian’s neck and shoulder, tying it as tight as she dares. She pauses, checks her breathing, then adjusts the knot with precise restraint.
“It’s not fatal,” Mariel says quietly. “Not yet.” A tremor slips through her voice, betraying the calm she’s fighting to maintain. “If we can keep the bleeding under control, she might live.”
Might.
“What happened?” I demand, my hands shaking as I press down on the wound.
“She panicked,” Seraphina says coolly. “Turned her blade on herself.”
The lie lands like a slap.
Cowards. Both of them.
The maze responds. Wind surges through the corridors, howling like something enraged. Stone grinds against stone as the walls shift and groan, closing in. Watching us. Testing us.
As if it’s waiting to see who we’ll save.
The game has changed. We can’t just try to outlast the night. If we don’t find our way out—and soon—Vivian will die.
Then the walls begin to move. The hedge pulses around us, closing in as if to crush us.
“Stars,” Cassy breathes.
“We need to get out of here!” I scream.
Seraphina’s gaze flicks to the shifting walls, to the blood soaking into the stone. “We should leave her,” she says. “She’ll only slow us down.”
The words knock the air from my lungs.
Elena flinches but doesn’t move. Doesn’t argue. Just stares at the ground like if she doesn’t look, she won’t have to choose.
“Absolutely not,” I snap. “She’s alive.”
“For how long?” Seraphina counters coolly. “You heard her—‘might’ isn’t good enough.” She turns away. “These trials aren’t about courage or honor—they’re meant to cull the weak.”
Rage burns hot and fast in my chest as Seraphina takes off down the path. Elena follows her without a word, leaving us behind.
The King’s words echo in my mind. Three hundred Bloodmoons, granted to prove we were worthy of survival.
Is this the price?
I look down at Vivian—bloodied, breathing, barely alive. Then at Mariel, hands trembling as she holds the bandage in place. At Cassy, pale but still standing. Still here.
I don’t owe these women anything. Not loyalty. Not allegiance. If there is to be only one queen—one savior—I finally understand why Seraphina and Elena would choose to thin the field.
My mother’s voice rises, steady and sure, as if she’s standing beside me again: What we do in life echoes into eternity.
I lift my head.
If survival demands the loss of our compassion, our humanity, then it isn’t survival at all.
I would rather die than become what this cruel world has been trying to make me my whole life.
Mariel and I hook Vivian’s arms over our shoulders. Cassy leads the way, eyes wildly scanning the maze. Vivian stumbles between us, her legs dragging, blood already soaking the strip of cloth.
The tunnel narrows with every step. The walls press close, scratching our shoulders, suffocating us. The ground begins to tilt backward as if the maze is a serpent trying to swallow us whole.
And then, just as the corridor corkscrews, the air changes.
Cold. Metallic. Sharp enough to sting my lungs.
The ground twists again, and we fall, sliding down a slope so steep that it feels vertical.
My boots scrape against slick stone. Cassy shrieks.
I try to brace myself but lose my footing, tumbling down, down, until—
We crash into a chamber.
My breath fogs instantly in the frigid air, and wind steals any last scrap of warmth still huddling against my bones.
But that isn’t the only thing that’s wrong.