A blast of fire shoots up between us, but it disappears moments later as Chase’s hand falls weakly to his side. The demon crouches, takes hold of Chase’s shoulder with its teeth, and begins dragging him away. I try to run after them, and I’m vaguely aware that I’m yelling, but I can’t seem to manage more than a few stumbling steps. The tunnel tilts dizzyingly. I find myself leaning against the wall, watching Chase as he’s dragged to the edge of the light, almost into darkness. I push myself away from the wall and stumble another few steps. Why can’t I run, dammit?
“Calla?” From the shadows steps a person who no longer exists outside of my nightmares. Goosebumps rise across my skin. It’s him. The boy. The one I forced off the edge of the chef school building. The one who fell to his death because of me. “How could you do something so wicked?” he asks, moving slowly toward me. “Have you always had a murderer’s heart?”
The guilt I manage to keep pushed deep down erupts from that dark place within me and twists itself nauseatingly around my heart. “You’re not real, you’re not real,” I whisper, managing to lurch past him. I can still see Chase. I just need to get to him. Blinking against the blurriness, I try to move faster.
“You deserve to rot in that faraway prison,” the boy says. He’s there again, in front of me. “Not for your Griffin Ability or for helping a criminal escape, but because you’re a murderer.”
I recognize the truth of his words and my resulting despair is almost debilitating. I want to curl in on myself and never face the world again. How can anyone ever bear to look at me when all they’re able to see is the blackness of my soul blotting out everything else about me? But through this haze of anguish, something inside me knows that none of this is real.
“Stop it, stop it,” I tell the hallucination. “I know you’re not real.”
“But your guilt is real,” he says, and as he turns away from me, I see the back of his head covered in blood.
“Go away!” I swing my arm at him and he vanishes. My shuffling steps carry me forward. I may be guilty and I may be a murderer, but I still need to get this black smoke monster off Chase. I can see it sitting on top of him, biting his arm and then moving down to do the same to his leg, as if it’s trying to puncture him everywhere.
Something loud and ringing. That’s what Chase said. I need something loud and ringing like a bell. I pull a knife from the belt around my hips. How long would it take me to transform the metal into a bell? Too long. And in my current weakened state, focusing enough magic to make that happen seems impossible. All I can think of is to increase the size of the blade. I take a second knife from the belt and let my magic trickle into both of them. As my slow, lurching steps carry me closer to Chase, the blades grow longer and wider.
As if sensing my presence, the creature jumps off Chase and faces me. I pull my arms apart, then strike the blades against one another. A loud clang issues forth, but it doesn’t resonate the way a bell would. I have nothing else, though, so I do it again. And again and again. The creature twitches, and bits of its body seem to pull away before snapping back against it. I slam the blades together harder. The creature shudders and shakes its head. It cries out and jumps at me, but I swing the blades up in an X and shove the demon away. I stumble backwards, barely able to keep myself from falling. I prop myself against the wall and clang, clang, clang. I’m nauseous and the tunnel is tilting again and a boy on a bicycle rides past me, screaming as a harpy tries to catch him, but I will keep hitting these blades together.
The creature twitches and convulses until suddenly it explodes apart, transforming into wisps of black smoke that scatter on an invisible breeze. The wisps quickly come together into one swirling mass, but I keep striking my blades against one another. The swirling becomes writhing. The twisting mass moves past Chase and disappears into the darkness beyond.
I lower myself to my knees and scramble toward Chase, dragging my blades with me. He’s been bitten in numerous places—the worst being the lacerations on the side of his neck—but he’s still alive. His eyes are closed, his face twisted into an expression of anguish as he mutters words I can’t decipher. I try to rouse him, but he doesn’t respond.
“It’s gonna … be okay,” I say, even though the gashes in my arm are burning fiercely, and the tunnel feels as though it’s spinning, and small children who aren’t real are running around us crying in fear. Soon they vanish, but they’re replaced by a young boy with his hair on fire, screaming on the other side of Chase. They’re all my fault, I know they are. People I’ve hurt with my Griffin Ability, whether intentionally or not. Guilt rips through me at the sight of them, but I remember the words Chase reminded me of earlier and manage to hold onto those instead. “Choose … the bright colors,” I say out loud. “Bright colors. Not the dark ones. Okay?” My trembling fingers touch his face and find it burning hot. “Bright colors. I know there are so many dark ones, but … just …”
I’m starting to forget why we’re here, but I know we need to leave. I manage to get my stylus out of my boot and Chase’s amber from his front pocket. Thinking of Gaius, I manage to make my shaking fingers function well enough to write one word: Help.
Black smoke materializes around us. I can’t tell if it’s real or another hallucination, so I scramble for the two blades and bring them clanging together. I lean over Chase, as if my small frame could possibly protect him, and continue hitting one blade against the other. I can barely hold them up, and they’re making more noise scraping against the floor than anything else, but I don’t stop. “Go away,” I gasp amidst my misery. “Go away, go away, go away …”
My hallucinations crowd around us: the boy who fell, his weeping parents, the crying children, a harpy and a bicycle. They mingle together with black smoke and gliding wings and a figure with dark skin and impossibly white hair. I try to cling to the bright colors, but they’re gone. All that remains are two murderers lying on the ground enveloped in darkness.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
I wake from nightmares more horrifying than any I’ve had before. My brow is damp, my pajamas cling to my body, and my entire being feels like it’s trembling. I push myself up quickly—which causes my head to throb—and realize I’m in my bedroom inside the mountain. I pull the bedcovers up to my chin and spend several minutes staring at the tall lamp in the corner while quietly repeating It was just a dream inside my head.
Then the questions begin:
What was that smoke creature?
How did we get out of the labyrinth?
Is Chase okay?
I push the covers back and climb out of bed. I feel weak and wobbly, but I make it to the door. Out in the passage, I walk slowly in the direction of Chase’s bedroom, keeping my hand against the wall in case I feel a sudden need to be horizontal. I’m only about halfway there when I hear footsteps behind me. “Oh, you’re awake!” Gaius exclaims. “What are you doing out here? You must be feeling terrible.”
I turn around and lean against the wall. “I wanted—” I stop to clear my croaky throat. “I wanted to see if Chase is okay.”
“Chase hasn’t woken up yet, but he’ll be fine.” Gaius reaches my side and slips an arm around my back. “Why don’t you get back into bed and I’ll ask Lumethon to come over. She knows far more about healer things than I do.”
“Lumethon?”
“She’s one of Chase’s friends. She went into the labyrinth with the tracking owls and found you and Chase.”
“Oh. How did she get us out?”
“Levitating stretchers. The expandable ones. They’re part of most healers’ emergency kits.”
I cross my bedroom and climb back into bed. “I actually meant how did she get past the horrible creatures and hallucination spells.”
Gaius purses his lips in thought. “Hmm. She didn’t say. But you were quite close to the entrance she went through, so perhaps she didn’t have to contend with much.”
Quite close to an entrance? Chase and I must have chos
en the wrong direction. Or perhaps not, since we ran back at some point. Maybe we ran further than I thought, toward one of the entrances. Or maybe the tunnels rearranged themselves while we were fighting that thing. That’s probably the most likely explanation.
“Do you remember what attacked you?” Gaius asks. He sits on the edge of the chair beside my bed. A chair that wasn’t here before. “Chase was quite certain he could handle anything he might come across in that labyrinth, but when Lumethon returned with you both, he was covered in bite and claw wounds, and he’s been in a feverish state ever since.”
“A feverish state? I thought you said he’ll be fine.”
“He will be. You were in a feverish state too, and now look at you. All better.”
“Well, except for feeling shaky and unsteady.”
“Oh! The tonic potion.” Gaius reaches over to the bedside table where a collection of bottles I didn’t notice until now is gathered. “Lumethon’s been injecting you with something to keep you hydrated while you were sleeping, but she said you’d feel quite weak once you woke up and that you should drink this.”
“Why would I be dehydrated?” I unscrew the lid of the bottle and sniff the contents. “Did I throw up?”
“No, no, but it’s been three days, so you—”
“Three days?” I lower the bottle so quickly that the liquid inside almost sloshes out onto the bed.
“Yes, it’s, uh …” Gaius pauses for a moment. “Tuesday. It’s Tuesday today.”
“Seriously? Ugh, no, where’s that antique amber thing? My brother and my father have probably been trying to contact me.”
“Yes, uh …” Gaius becomes very interested in his hands. “The amber was here beside the bed. I saw some messages from your brother. He became quite concerned when you didn’t reply, so … I replied on your behalf. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, but it seemed—”
“No, that’s fine, thank you. You did the right thing.” I take a sip of the tonic and try not to gag. “What did you say to him?”
“Well, I was very polite, and I didn’t share any of the upsetting details. I simply wrote, ‘Hello. Calla and Chase are unwell after a run-in with an Underground inhabitant. They will be fine within a few days.’”
“Oh dear. I can’t see that going down well. What was his reply?”
With some hesitation, Gaius says, “It’s probably not necessary to repeat it.”
I lower the bottle and fix him with a stare until he relents.
“Fine. He said … ‘I’m going to kill him.’”
I nod as I swallow my second disgusting sip of tonic. “That sounds like my brother.”
Gaius stands. “I should return the amber to you now that you’re back.” He hurries out of the room, leaving me to wrinkle my nose at the rest of the bottle’s contents and decide to just down it. I finish swallowing the nasty liquid and place the empty bottle on the bedside table as Gaius returns with the old amber. “It’s nice to have someone looking out for you the way your brother does,” he says, leaving it beside the empty bottle
“I think overprotective might be a better description—for all the members of my family—but yes. It is nice. I should probably stop complaining about it.”
“Probably. Are you feeling any better? The tonic is supposed to work quickly.”
“Yes, I am actually.” I push myself to the edge of the bed. “I’m going to go see Chase now.”
Gaius puts his hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you have a relaxing bath and then rest for the remainder of the day?”
“You know, you sound exactly like those fussy healers,” I say with a chuckle, “always telling people to rest.”
“Well, they do have a point,” he says, not removing his hand. “I think it would be better if you stayed here and rested.”
I pause, my smile slipping as I look up at him. “What’s going on, Gaius? Why don’t you want me to see him?”
“It isn’t that. It’s more … well, in his current state, it might be upsetting to you.”
“Why would I be upset? It’s not as though I care a great deal about him or … anything like that.”
With his expression turning to one of doubt, Gaius says, “Then why do you want to see him so badly?”
I don’t feel as though that question requires an answer, so I step past Gaius and head for the door. I’m more stable on my feet now, so I make it down the passage without using the wall to hold myself up. Chase’s door is ajar. I slowly push it open and step inside. He’s sleeping restlessly amongst tangled sheets and bedcovers. His breath is uneven, and his occasional twitches are accompanied by mutterings of unintelligible words. I walk to the bed and gently pull aside the neck of his T-shirt, feeling his burning skin and checking for that terrible bite at the same time.
“The wounds have all healed,” Gaius says, joining me at the bedside, “but we think there may still be some poison in his blood.”
“Poison?”
“Yes. A black substance that was around all the wounds. It was the same as on your arm. He had far more bites and scratches, though.”
“It’s my fault,” I say quietly. “I couldn’t run fast enough, which is why it caught up to us. And then Chase jumped in front of me when the—the creature—tried to attack me.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t know. But I can show you.” I picture the swirling black smoke and project the image above the bed. “Part of the time it was just smoke,” I say, “but then it transformed into this.” My picture changes to the demon-like creature with the gangly, dripping wet body and the eyes and mouth too big for its face. “The smoke paralyzed us so that we couldn’t move while it surrounded us, and then after the creature bit us, that’s when the hallucinations began. They were all people I’ve hurt in some way. It was horrible. All that guilt flooding to the surface.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Gaius murmurs, still watching my projection.
“Me neither,” says a voice from the doorway. The creature vanishes as I hurry to reinforce the imaginary barrier around my mind. “Sorry if I startled you,” the woman says as she enters the room. I recognize her as the dark-skinned, white-haired figure who melted into my hallucinations just before I blacked out. I can see her better now: taller than normal, long, straight hair the color of clean snow, and unnaturally pale eyes. “I’m Lumethon.” She holds her hand out to shake mine. “Chase has told me a little bit about you.”
“Oh. Hi.” I shake her hand.
“Gaius asked me to come and check on you now that you’re awake, but you seem to be doing quite well. Did you take that tonic I left by your bed?”
“Yes. I’m feeling much better.”
“No more hallucinations?”
“No. And my magic seems to be working fine, so that wasn’t affected.”
“Good. Well, there isn’t much else I can do,” she says. “I’m not actually a healer. I just know more about these things than Gaius, which is why he always calls me in for this kind of thing.” She steps closer to Chase and lays her hand on his brow. “Still burning. Looks like his healing will take a bit longer than yours, but I suppose that’s to be expected given the extent of his wounds.”
I nod, telling myself that her conclusion seems logical. Of course Chase will take a bit longer to heal, but he will be fine. He has more power than anyone else I know, so how could he not be? I turn to Lumethon and say, “Thank you for coming into the labyrinth to find us. There’s absolutely no way we would have got out on our own.”
“Oh, of course,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Chase would have done the same for me.” Before I can ask if she encountered any dangerous beast or spell while she was in the labyrinth, she steps away from the bed. “Can I take a look at some of the books in your study?” she asks Gaius. “I think I may have seen a reference to a creature that feeds on despair.”
“Yes, certainly.”
They walk to the door, but Lumethon looks back over her sho
ulder. “Calla, it was nice to properly meet you. Soak in a pool and then take it easy for a day or two, but I think you’re probably fine.”
“Okay, thanks.” She walks out while Gaius gives me a look that says, See? I told you to have a bath and rest. I sigh and wave him away.
Once Gaius and Lumethon are gone, I walk around to the other side of the bed and climb onto it so I can sit beside Chase. I watch him for a while, wondering what nightmares he’s caught up in and if he’s aware of anything going on around him. Eventually, when I’ve thought about my words long enough, I decide to speak.
“So there we were,” I say quietly, “lying on the ground with our hallucinations of despair consuming us, and I realized something.” My hand inches forward until it rests lightly just below the dark markings on his left arm. I’ve figured out by now that this tattoo is permanent, the vine of thorns that twists around his arm. I wonder why he chose this pattern to permanently ink his skin. “This is my realization,” I say. “I can’t judge you for what you’ve done. I’m no better than you are. Whether I’ve killed one person or thousands, I’m still a murderer. And that twisting, sickening guilt that made me never want to face the light of day again—you were feeling that a thousand times over. You’re probably still feeling it.” My hand slides down toward his. “I can’t imagine what you’re suffering through, lost in nightmares I wish I could pull you free from.”
“Calla?”
I snatch my hand away as if I’ve been caught doing something wrong. “Yes?” I ask as Gaius walks back into the room.
“We couldn’t find that smoke creature in any of my books, but there’s a reference to something that may be it. Lumethon’s going to do some more research. Anyway, I just wanted to inform you that I’ll be in the greenhouse if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” I climb off the bed. “I was thinking I should visit my mother. I can sneak into the healing wing the same way Chase and I got into the Guild last week. Then I can see my dad as well, if he’s able to leave work. We’ve been in contact using that old amber, but I haven’t actually seen him since I fled the Guild.”
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