Chapter 4 #2
I should be thinking about escape. About how to get out of here.
But all I can think about is Alette’s face when she was brought out of that pit of vines.
She looked back at me. At me specifically, not Sylvian, not even Ashton, and in that split second, I saw it in her eyes.
She knew I would’ve protected her in that hole until my dying breath.
She'd looked at me like I was some kind of god, not just a bad tempered king that no one gives a shit about.
Now, with every step, I see her face at the edge of my vision. Mocking me. Accusing me. Like when I let her fall through that hedge, I’d failed her in some way.
Eventually we hit another dead end. Another wall of living wood, knotted and impassable, with thorns and leaves the size of knives. Sylvian stares at it, breathing hard, like he can will it to open.
“It’s over,” I say. “We double back, try another branch.”
“Food first,” Sylvian says.
My stomach aches, but I tell him, “We can eat when we’ve found them.”
“We won’t have the energy to find them if we don’t eat,” Cassius says, as cocky as all the fucking water fae.
Cassius sits on the ground, cross-legged, like he’s about to meditate his way out. I can’t stand the thought of just sitting and eating, but I don’t have a better idea. So I pace, punching the hedge every few minutes just to calm myself down enough to sit.
Sylvian joins Cassius on the ground, and they both open their packs and start setting out food and their water skins. Reluctantly, I join them, and we all start eating in silence. Still, I’m angry. I’m angry at these idiots, but mostly angry at myself.
“Shouldn’t an earth fae be more useful than you are?” I ask Sylvian, and I can see my words hit. He’s feeling the same way.
“The hedges aren’t like normal plants. I can feel them, but I can’t control them. I can’t access my magic.”
I snort. “Useful.”
Cassius turns an arrogant expression onto me. “And your fire magic has been so very useful on this adventure of ours.”
I glare. “As has your water magic.”
“I wasn’t the one throwing statements about usefulness around. Not initially.” He sighs. “I’m just trying to point out that the goddess really did her work on this labyrinth. It seems perfectly designed to make us all feel as useless as possible.”
“Useless is exactly how I feel,” Sylvian says softly. No jokes. No laughter.
Something in me calms a bit. None of us are handling this well. “So, after this we just keep walking?”
“I guess,” Cassius answers.
“We will find them again, won’t we?” Sylvian asks, then stares down at his food. “What if they’re the only ones who make it out?”
“That’s better than her being trapped here because of our selfish desire to have her help,” I say.
They both look at me, surprised.
Cassius asks, “Do you feel bad for making her go with us through the labyrinth?”
“Don’t you?” I ask.
He seems to consider my words for a long minute. “Not at first, but I do now.”
Sylvian takes a sip of his water and explains, “When I first found her on that altar, all I could think about is how she would help us. Not just to get our powers back, but to fix things after the four of us ruined things and lost the fae powers when we spilled blood on a sacred day. She was just a human. A tool to use to get back what was lost. But now? She’s not just a tool.
She feels more real to me than any fae has ever felt before. ”
I’m not good with words, but he said my thoughts perfectly.
“There is… something about her,” Cassius admits. “But maybe it’s just the sword. Or that she’s the Chosen One.”
“Maybe,” I say.
Sylvian snorts. “Doubtful.”
“You don’t agree?” Cassius asks, sounding surprised.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Which troubles me.”
“Well, I do know. It’s not the sword or the fact that she’s the Chosen One. It’s something about her,” Sylvian says, but even he sounds worried.
The world is very quiet for a long time as I finish my food and have some water, then pack it all back up, not looking forward to another long walk.
Suddenly, something shifts. The ground. The hedges.
Something. There’s a wet, obscene noise, like meat being pulled off a carcass, then the wall in front of us opens, the roots twisting apart to reveal a new path.
For a second, I expect something to attack us. I spring to my feet, grab the hilt of my sword, and wait. But it’s empty. Quiet. No danger in sight.
Cassius stands and dusts off his hands. “Well, this has got to be a sign.”
“You think we go that way?” Sylvian asks, sounding a little skeptical.
“I think every move we make is controlled by the goddess, and I think that path opened up because we’re supposed to be on it.”
I don’t know if I believe his theory, but it's a damn sight better than just walking around aimlessly, so I relax and grab my pack from the ground. Sylvian is on his feet beside me in an instant. Stretching my senses out, I try to detect any sign of danger, but I can’t.
The path… it just seems like any other path.
Before we go, Cassius kneels down and makes a cairn, a pile out of sticks and stones. “So we’ll be able to find our way back if we need to.”
It’s smart, but I won’t compliment him. His ego doesn’t need the boost.
“Let’s go,” Cassius says.
Sylvian is already moving, practically jogging into the corridor. I follow, because it’s our best option, even if I don’t like it.
This path is different. The air is colder, and there’s a smell, something sharp and sweet, like blood in a river. Crows scatter overhead, black wings flashing through the gaps. I watch them go, trying to count them, but there are too many. A murder, they call it. I wonder if that’s an omen.
We walk for hours. Nobody talks, but you can feel the tension like a storm before lightning. I keep expecting the ground to open up, or the wolves to come back, or the maze to decide we’re done. But nothing happens, and the monotony is almost worse.
The new corridor is tighter, and it bends every ten feet, making it impossible to see more than a few steps ahead. After a while, the ground gets soft, mud sucking at our boots, slowing us down. Sylvian starts to complain, but I ignore him.
It gets dark, then even darker, until I can barely see my own hands. Cassius says it’s just a trick, that the light is there if you stop looking for it, but I don’t listen. I focus on the girl, on her face, on the way her hair looked in the last real sunlight I saw.
I remember how she smelled, too. Like something alive and sharp. I’d kill to smell it again, just once. Maybe I will.
We stop again to eat, if you can call it that. I chew a mouthful of leather jerky, which tastes heavy and tough. I’ve barely started when Cassius is already done. He never eats more than he has to. Sylvian picks at his food, watching me.
“What?” I say, mouth full.
He shrugs. “Nothing.”
But it isn’t nothing. There’s something in the way he looks at me, something wounded, like a dog that’s lost a fight but hasn’t given up on biting your ankle.
Cassius is the one who finally says it. “So, Oberon. You planning to share her, or just keep her for yourself?”
Sylvian chokes, half laughing. “Subtle.”
I glare at Cassius. “I didn’t say I wanted her.”
He raises his eyebrow. “Then why did you nearly break your hand on the hedge trying to get to her?”
Sylvian looks at me, then at Cassius. “If anyone’s got a claim, it’s not Oberon.”
Cassius laughs, a cold, sharp sound. “You think because you rolled in the dirt with her a little, you’ve marked your territory?”
Sylvian’s face goes red. I wonder if he’ll hit Cassius, but he doesn’t. He just clenches his fists. “It’s not like that. We’re… friends.”
I finish the jerky in my mouth. “Since when does fucking make you friends?”
He tenses, and for a second I think we’re going to fight for real. But he stops himself, turning away. “You don’t understand.”
Cassius leans back, eyes half-closed. “Then enlighten us.”
Sylvian is silent for a long time. When he finally speaks, it’s barely audible. “She makes me feel… real. Like I’m not just a king. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help wanting to explore that feeling. Besides, I like her. She’s funny, smart, and kind. What’s not to like?”
For a second, nobody says anything. I want to laugh, but it comes out as a growl.
Cassius glances at me. “What about you, Oberon? Is it just a conquest, or do you feel something?”
I hate him for asking, but I hate myself more for not knowing the answer. All I can say is how I feel, which, well, I’m not good at either.
“She’s mine,” I say, and my voice is flat, absolute.
“I’ve never heard you say that about any woman,” Cassius says, then adds, “ever.”
“Well, I’m not letting you have her,” Sylvian says.
“You might not have a choice.”
He flashes me a grin. “Right now, I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a hot bod with a hard dick. I think she’s just scared of you.”
I glare, even though he might be right.
Cassius sighs. “Maybe it’s the labyrinth, you know. It’s making us want her. It’s part of the test.”
Is this part of us? Is saying that enough, thinking that enough, until we make it true?
“Bullshit,” I say. But even as I say it, I don’t know if he’s wrong.
We keep walking, but the mood is worse than ever.
I try to focus on the path, but every few steps I see the girl in my mind, her hair tangled, her eyes bright with hate or fear or both.
I want to find her, but I don’t want to admit why.
I don’t want to admit it’s almost painful to be away from her, because that’d sound cheesy, like I was admitting to feelings I never said.
After another hour, the path opens a bit, and we see something up ahead. We all rush forward, eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what we’re seeing… which is a pile of sticks and stones. A pile? We walk closer until we see the same spot Cassius had marked earlier.
We’ve been walking in a circle.
Cassius laughs, soft and bitter. “Well, fuck me.”
Sylvian sits down hard, head in his hands. I want to punch something, but there’s nothing that would be satisfying to hit. Besides, I’d already seen that doesn’t help, so I just sit down, staring at the useless pile.
For the first time, I let myself wonder if we’ll ever get out. We’ve lost our chosen one. Maybe now we’re just doomed to walk around in circles forever. Or maybe we’ll be the screams Alette and Ashton hear in the labyrinth.
“We could still find them,” Sylvian says, but this time it sounds more like a prayer than a promise.
Cassius sits beside me, not touching but close enough to feel his warmth. “Let’s hope so,” he says. “Because if we don’t, we’ll never make it out of here.”
I look up at the sky, waiting for a sign. But the goddess gives me nothing. Just the same green, the same gray, the same endless hunger.
And somewhere, just out of reach, the girl is waiting.
At least, she’d better be.