I looked at Felice, nodded, and together we started walking toward the center opening, the one behind Aaryn. I didn’t ask her what would happen if we were still stuck inside the labyrinth when the magic hourglass finished filling up. It was pretty obvious. We’d barely made it past the opening when Elroy, an Aevian from Ferrum’s group whom I hadn’t bothered to get to know, launched himself into the sky, beating his wings to gain altitude and kicking up a gust of wind as he went.
We all watched him from below, his large, spotted-brown wings illuminated by the balls of light floating in the air around him, as he went higher and higher, scanning for the center of the labyrinth. Finally, he pointed directly across. “I can see it!” he yelled, his voice reaching high into the cavernous ceiling, “I’m gonna go for it!”
He moved like a bird of prey through the sky, swooping across the vast blackness above us and disappearing out of sight. Less than a handful of seconds had passed before a gut-wrenching scream ripped through the dark. My stomach twisted at the sound of that wet, gurgling cry for help. Of course, no one could help, and even if they could, I doubted if anyone wanted to repeat what he’d just tried.
One down, I thought, and while that meant there’d be less competition for me, I still didn’t like what had just happened. Yes, he’d been an idiot to ignore Aaryn’s veiled warning, but nobody deserved to die in a trial environment. It was a barbaric practice, and neither Aaryn or Draven could ever change my mind on the subject.
I let my head hang and sighed. “So much for Elroy,” I said.
“Elroy was stupid. C’mon, we’d better start running.”
“Running?”
Felice pointed at Ferrum and his two goons who’d gone sprinting through one of the other doors as soon as they’d decided which one to go through. Neither of them seemed to have given a shit about Elroy’s death, though did I expect any less?
Nodding at Felice, I started running with her, moving quickly through the stone passageway. We took a left turn at the intersection ahead of us, then a right, then another left. I tried to keep a mental map of the place, something I was used to doing from my time spent on the streets.
New York was like a labyrinth of alleys and backstreets, and when you were someone who was used to running from humans, natives, and Factions, you learned to keep a clear mental image of where you were going at all times.
This place, though, it got into your head. Every single hallway was exactly alike, and it felt like the deeper we went, the more openings and possible routes there were to take. Looking up at the cavern ceiling didn’t help either; nothing in that slightly reflective rock surface would give away the location of the labyrinth’s center, or even the spot we’d entered the labyrinth from. All we could do was guess.
“Just thought of something,” Felice said between breaths.
“What?” I asked, keeping pace with her.
“If this is silver, what’s gold like?”
“I don’t know… but it’s probably gonna be something to do with dragons.”
“Dragons?”
“Maybe? It’s not like this is a walk in the park.”
Felice stopped. “It could be.”
I stopped beside her to catch my breath. “What are you thinking?”
She walked up to one of the stone walls and planted her palm against it. “Breadcrumbs,” she said, “We’ll leave a trail.”
“Won’t others see it and follow it?”
“Maybe, but we’ll be ahead of them, so it won’t matter.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
Felice whispered at the wall, and from beneath her jumpsuit the light from her kithe begin to manifest as swirling patterns of silvery lines. Her palm started to glow, and when she pulled her hand away from the wall, her hand’s impression remained, shining softly with that same silver light. Satisfied with her work, Felice clasped her hands together as if dusting them off. Then she turned to scan the openings ahead of us, trying to decide on which to go through; that was when I felt the rumble in the pit of my stomach.
I turned around and stared at the darkness behind us, searching for the source. It would’ve been completely pitch-black if not for the light from the orbs floating overhead, but even that wasn’t a lot to see by. Swallowing, I pulled the dagger out of its sheath, which I’d attached to my outer thigh with a strap, and held it tightly in my right hand.
“Felice?” I said.
“Dammit, I feel like the path on the left is familiar,” Felice said, not listening to me. “But if we keep going ahead—”
“Felice!” I yelled.
Finally, she turned. “What?” she asked.
“You can’t feel that?”
“Feel what?”
I pointed. “That!”
“What the hell?” Felice asked, her eyes widening and catching the growing light ahead of us.
It was like fire, blue fire, a huge wave of it thundering toward us, licking the labyrinth’s walls as it went, filling the space ahead of it with light. Before I knew it, Felice made an X with her arms, crossing them in front of herself and unfurling her huge, glorious white wings. I had only ever seen them a handful of times, but they never ceased to impress me. Right now, though, wasn’t the time to be distracted.
She went to cover me with her wings, but I shrugged her off. “No,” I said, “I’m going to do this myself.”
“You sure?” she asked, as the rolling, blue fireball rushed ever closer. “Now isn’t the time to be a hero!”
“If I can’t get past this, I have no business making it to the center.”
I wrapped my hand around the dagger’s hilt, gripping it so tightly my knuckles turned white. Following Felice’s movements, I held the dagger in front of me and concentrated on it, bringing the dagger itself into focus but reducing the roiling, churning blue fireball to a blurry, shifting mass of color and light.
“Duras!” I yelled, uttering the Aevian word for defend. The amber jewel set into the dagger’s small cross guard filled with life and light, the little white mote that lived inside of it dancing in response. I could feel the swell of magic within me, a sensation that brought with it the scent of a fresh, morning breeze on a clear spring day, and in front of me a series of golden lines sprang into existence. I watched them cross each other, creating a thatched pattern of glittering light that quickly stretched around me, taking on a dome shape.
Pain would’ve followed this display of power, if I’d even been able to manage it at all, but there was little of that—only a dull throb around my shoulder blades.
My eyes widened and a panicked breath caught in my throat just as the ball of blue light collided against the magic shield I’d erected ahead of me. The force of the impact was intense, so much so it made my arm shake. I grabbed the dagger with both hands now, fighting against the urge to let go and allow the fireball to vaporize me. But I didn’t let go, and the fire moved harmlessly around me, dispersing as soon as it was past us and throwing the hallway back into darkness.
Sweat had popped all along my brow, my hands were still shaking, but I was alive—and so was Felice. She arched her shoulders and uncurled her wings from around herself. Incredibly, she was grinning. “You’re alive,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said, “I probably just went to the bathroom, too, but I’m alive.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. “We should probably keep moving, right?”
Felice pointed. “My breadcrumb’s gone.”
The mark she had left wasn’t there anymore, making me wonder if the fireball was the labyrinth’s way of responding to our attempts at beating it. It wasn’t outright blocking us from using magic because we’d both been able to defend ourselves against its attack, but if we couldn’t leave a trail behind to show us where we’d already been, finding our way to the center was going to be a lot harder.
I nodded. “Alright, well, I guess that’s just this labyrinth’s way of keeping us in the dark. Let’s go this way.”
&nb
sp; She grabbed my shoulder as I went to move. I stopped and looked at her. “What?” I asked.
“Good job,” she said. “That was awesome of you.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling. “C’mon, let’s keep going.”
Felice and I started running again, moving through the opening we’d planned on going through before almost becoming over done steaks. It was more of the same. The hallways never changed, there were no distinguishing markings, and the longer the halls were, the more prominent the slight grey haze in the air became. In fact, now that I’d noticed it, the haze was starting to thicken and become something like mist around us. I grabbed Felice’s hand and held it tight.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Stay close,” I said, my heart thundering against my throat.
The mist stole my ability to see anything in front of my face except for a thin, grey sheen and—only because I was touching her—Felice to my side. I couldn’t tell if there were any openings to our left or our right, I couldn’t see straight ahead, but I also didn’t dare turn around because I knew that was going to be a sure-fire way of getting completely disoriented.
“This has to be another test,” I said, “Which means there has to be a way through it.”
Felice stretched her other hand out and spread her fingers wide. “Vegalia,” she said, but the mist swallowed the Aevian word for reveal, and refused to clear. Her magic hadn’t worked.
“That’s not how we’re gonna do it,” I said.
“I’m open to suggestions.”
I craned my head around my shoulder. “Do you remember seeing any other way we could go?”
“No.”
“I think we should keep walking and—” a scream pierced the mist and put my hackles up. I stiffened, searching for the source of the sound, but it could’ve been coming from anywhere.
“Shit,” Felice said, “I think that came from in front of us.”
“I heard it over this way,” I said, pointing to my left.
“That’s impossible—there weren’t any openings, remember? This was a straight path.”
“Fuck… what are we supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t stay here.”
I shook my head and tugged her arm. “C’mon,” I said, “Keep up.”
I started walking at first, but then I quickened my pace to a run. I was already tired from all the running I’d done until now, but I didn’t have a choice. Maybe the scream had been magic, another test, or maybe someone was in trouble nearby and needed our help. Whatever it was didn’t matter, because the only fact was that the hourglass was going to eventually run out of sand and we’d get locked in this labyrinth forever. The timer could’ve already run out and we didn’t know it.
The mist seemed to stretch on forever. I could just about see where I was putting my feet, but every time I’d glance at them to try and keep my footing, I’d feel like my orientation had been turned and start wondering if we were really just running around in circles along the same stretch of hallway.
“Hello?” I called out.
A scream replied, closer this time. It was male, a man calling for help. I tried to move closer to it, searching for a wall with my fingertips that I could use to help guide my footsteps, but finding nothing but more mist. I pulled Felice with me, my pace quickening with the frantic pulsing of my heart. It was close, I knew it was, and I knew I was heading in the right direction—some internal compass inside of me was pulling me to where I needed to go. I heard the scream again, and the sound spurred me on to move even faster, running now despite not being able to see where I was going until it dawned on me.
I wasn’t holding Felice’s hand anymore.
It was like something out of a dream, where you’re holding on so tightly to something that even after you’ve woken up, you can almost still feel that thing in your hand. The terror took a moment to set in, but when it finally did, I found my throat almost closing to a pin hole. I tried to suck in a deep breath of air, but my lungs weren’t working. With great effort I managed to croak Felice’s name, but there was no reply. Not even a scream.
I spun around on the spot as, in my head, I tried to figure out what my next course of action was, not realizing that I had been backing up until my foot caught on something and I toppled over something. I hit the ground hard on my elbow, my dagger slipping out of my hand and clattering into the mist.
“Fuck!” I yelled, but my voice didn’t travel.
Pain pulsed through my arm and into my shoulder. Quickly, I turned around to see what I’d fallen over only to find a body lying on the ground. It was another prospect. I scrambled over to him and checked his pulse. He was alive, but his skin was pale and cold, and his breathing was light.
I tapped his face. “Wake up,” I said, “Whoever you are, you need to wake up—you can’t stay here.”
He wasn’t responding, and I got the impression his breathing was getting weaker. Cursing under my breath, I went to lift him up, but then I heard another, chilling sound.
“Well, well,” Ferrum said, “What do we have here?”
My whole body stiffened again, but this time it wasn’t fear racing through me, but anger. Slowly, I got to my feet. The voice had been spoken clearly and loudly. He was behind me. I had only to turn around and see him and his two friends, each of them sneering at me, the mists curling around them. It took a second before I noticed he was holding my dagger in his hands and slowly turning it over.
“Lost something?” Ferrum asked.
“Yeah, my dignity by being seen even talking to you,” I said, “Don’t you have a trial to win?”
“Oh, I’m going to win, but I heard you scuttling around here and thought I’d take a little detour. Then I found this pretty little thing… yours?”
Ignoring the question, hoping he’d lose interest in the dagger and drop his guard, I pointed at the guy on the floor. “He’s hurt,” I said, “I don’t suppose you’d be a decent fucking person and help wake him up so he doesn’t end up trapped in here?”
Ferrum snickered, laughing with his goons like they’d just heard the world’s stupidest joke. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s the competition, and you want to help him… how stupid are you?”
“Whatever, I don’t have the time to argue with you.”
I turned around and went to help the guy lying on the floor, knowing full well I hadn’t yet retrieved the dagger, when someone grabbed me by the shoulder. It was Marv. His thick, sausage fingers dug into my skin and for an instant I let off a slight grunt from the pain.
“Don’t you know better than to turn your back on your competition, freakshow?” he growled.
I didn’t hesitate. Reaching for the back of his head with my hands, I pulled him over my shoulder and sent him crashing to his back on the floor with a resounding crack. I heard the shuffle of feet coming up behind me, and acting purely on instinct, I spun around to avoid Dirk’s searching hands and then used that momentum to propel me toward Ferrum.
He raised his hand to defend his face, but I didn’t throw a punch—instead I threw my foot into his gut and sent him staggering back. He let go of the dagger, which slipped into the air and out of sight. Dirk by this point had managed to turn around and grab my arm, but I throat-punched him, making him reach for his neck, hacking and coughing.
My dagger sang as it sailed back down, almost like it was alerting me to where it was. I reached up and grabbed it by the hilt just as it came down, spinning around and delivering a roundhouse kick to the side of Dirk’s head that sent him spinning and crashing next to his fallen friend.
“See?” I said, shuddering, “That’s what happens when creeps touch me. I get all… fighty.”
Ferrum roared, and an entire section of mist turned bright orange. The heat coming off him was immense, so I decided not to stick around. I turned tail and ran. As soon as I found an opening, I ducked into it and pressed my back against a wall. I had no idea where Felice
was, where the hell I was, or how much time I had left. But I couldn’t leave that prospect to die.
I peered around the corner and saw Ferrum’s goons picking themselves up off the floor. The mist had mostly cleared, giving me a better view of the path ahead of me with its many branching openings. Behind me, though, was the injured prospect lying on the ground, still unconscious.
Ferrum raged, his body wreathed with fiery, orange light.
“You let her beat the shit out of you both,” Ferrum yelled. “How did you let her do that?”
“It was his fault!” Dirk said.
“She’s freakishly strong,” Marv grunted.
“She’s a freak. Her very existence is an affront to the purity of our kind, and she can’t be allowed to win.”
Marv and Dirk exchanged a glance. “What are we supposed to do?” Marv asked.
Ferrum, his hair a blaze of orange flame, pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand. He then pointed down the hallway with his other hand. “Get after her, you idiots!”
I ducked out of sight again, planting my back against the wall. There was nowhere to hide here, no nooks to dip into, nothing to jump behind—these labyrinthine halls were entirely empty, which meant I had only one tool I could use.
Magic.
Swallowing hard, holding my dagger firmly in my hand, I shut my eyes and whispered “Voyda,” remembering the magic I’d used on the Smother. The word vibrated inside of me, pulling a warm, adrenalizing sensation out of the pit of my stomach and sending it racing throughout the rest of my body. In my head I held an image of the shadows around me darkening and thickening, making me look like no more than darkened section of the wall.
That was an important part of magic; holding the thought in your head. It wasn’t enough to just say the word, you needed to know what you wanted to happen, and then use the right word or series of words. The more words you used, the more powerful the magic. One word was enough to keep Ferrum, Marv, and Dirk’s eyes from catching me as they turned the corner and went sprinting down the hallway they’d seen me disappear into.
The Obsidian Order Boxed Set Page 29