by W. J. May
Raul scoffed. “Really? Why would anyone put us in here if they wanted us to get out?”
“Some sort of twisted game?”
Atlanta snorted this time. “Someone’s enjoying watching us in here.” She shook her head, her blonde hair flying. “Probably that big oaf of a guard.”
“You’re right. Someone’s watching us.” Instead of looking up Darian watched her, knowing she had more questions for him. She wasn’t going to let what had happened go. She wanted answers. She didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who would wait for them either. He grinned, despite himself. He could appreciate that in her. What he couldn’t understand was how she did what she had. It had taken him years of training to be able to reach into someone’s mind and pull out a memory, let alone a memory as dark as the one she had seen. The fact that she’d done it so easily worried him.
“What makes you think we’re being watched?” she asked in a whisper.
I know we are,” Darian replied dryly. “I wasn’t able to speak. Both Raul and I were tied and I believe he was nearly speechless, too.” When Raul nodded, Darian continued. “The only light coming in was directed your way, and you were free to walk. Doesn’t seem like whoever put us in here did so to trap us. They’re trying to find out something.” He paused for a moment and sighed, then turned to Atlanta. “I knew how to light the room. I woke up knowing it. Somehow it was integrated into my mind and I could see every little detail of the process we had to follow. I could even see you doing it before I knew you were in the same room. But I couldn’t speak. My voice had been taken away by some sort of magic. When it was broken, I somehow forgot that I knew how to free us,” he paused, “but you pulled it out of my mind.”
Atlanta unfolded her crossed arms. “Crap! So, if some sort of magic’s been used to play this game on us, then we’ve probably fallen right into Adelaide’s trap.” The intensity of the white light had decreased from what it had been moments before, and the crescent moon inside the room had grown shades darker. Her face tightened. “I’m not letting Adelaide win. Over my dead body.”
“We don’t know—”
“There’s something written there,” Raul interrupted them. Darian looked at him questioningly, and Raul gestured to the podium. Attached to it was a round brass knob, similar to those on the gates of old castles.
Raul moved towards the crescent and crouched to examine it closely. Darian could feel his friend’s mind working wildly. Raul signaled to Atlanta and Darian. “Come and check this out.”
Atlanta reached for the knob and Darian immediately grabbed her hand. “Patience,” he said.
She gazed at him as he held her right hand. Then with her left, she grasped the knob and pulled it slightly towards her. A loud grinding sounded behind them, and they turned just as a wall pushed back and slid to their right, revealing a hallway with dim white lights. “Let’s go.”
This is too easy, Darian thought, but didn’t want to argue with her.
He was right. They were meant to find their way out of the cell. It was surreal, and yet he could feel the spells woven so perfectly, as if the whole ordeal was the sick contraption of a twisted mind.
Atlanta moved first, and they followed her. As they walked through the dimly-lit hallway, he felt fear take over. He couldn’t tell the others. And Atlanta never looked back to see if they were following. His pace slowed. He felt trapped. Not the physical prison, but the mental one that took over his thoughts. Somehow, he knew exactly what was happening. It was all perfectly orchestrated. Yet here he was, speechless and unable to let the others know—as if his body was forbidding him to share it with the others. His eyes were magnetically drawn to the center of the floor. He caught a glimpse of the single ray of moonlight streaming in, and he could see the entire process of escaping as clear as day.
Yet, everything was in a cloud a confusion.
Nothing made sense. Clear as day, and shrouded as night.
Why was Atlanta able to walk freely? Darian was sure Raul was going through the same thing he was. Atlanta was intentionally free, as if she was the one being tested, not him or Raul. Someone was trying to push Atlanta toward figuring out how to escape on her own. Tapping into his mind, accidentally or not, was a way to awaken the power inside her. Whoever had put them into the cell knew more about Atlanta and her capacity than he was comfortable with. They knew she had power within her, but also knew she was unaware of it.
How could that be?
He was dying to ask her, but still he walked silent behind her with his eyes glued to the heels of her feet.
Are they trying to capture us, or help us? Darian had no idea, but warning lights flashed inside his head, and he knew he had to be very careful from here on out. For his and Raul’s sake, but especially for Atlanta.
Chapter 14
The dark corridor reeked of lobelia, a poisonous herb used by witches to soothe pain. Atlanta was unaware of how she knew the scent. She just did. It was more of a stench to her actually, one that crept through her nostrils and burned her sinuses fiercely. She forced her head to tilt down as an attempt to not inhale the warm air haunting her subconscious. The corridor absorbed enough light for her to see a few steps ahead of her, but too dark to see what lay ahead. She peered down at the cinderblock path they were walking on, and felt a strange sense of comfort deep inside her. She didn’t recognize the feeling, but she imagined it was comparable to the same feeling an infant had when held by its mother.
She felt oddly...safe.
Which made no sense at all.
She recalled the images of her momentary lapse into what she could only assume was Darian’s past. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was what had happened, but there seemed no other logical explanation. She wanted to understand it, to know for sure, but she knew it had to wait. They had more pressing matters. For now, she had to be content with the knowledge that she had somehow pulled that memory out of his mind. The memory wasn’t going to solve anything now. Or explain why she didn’t feel frightened when she should be scared crapless.
Crapless? Who uses that word anymore? Sheesh, is it even a word?
A dim flickering light in the distance distracted her thoughts.
Raul noticed it, too. He paused in his gait. “You see it, too, right? It’s a trap of some sort. I just know it. We can’t head back, can’t cut through anything. It’s a trap and we’ve got nowhere to run. We’re—”
“Shut up, Raul.” Darian butted in. “It’s not a trap.”
“Really? After everything that’s happened, you think we can just waltz up to some shining unknown things in the distance and be safe? How can you not feel the need to be cautious?” He seemed to be suddenly panicking—or completely exhausted and unable to think clearly.
“Whatever spell that could be cast upon us, could destroy our souls if we show fear,” Darian mentioned as an attempt to calm Raul. “You have to approach the unknown with pure positivity and an open heart, for evil does not plague positivity.”
Now he’s back to Shakespeare, Atlanta thought, shaking her head.
She listened to their conversation, but ignored it. Her mind was racing, contemplating whether the scent of herbs and mold was familiar to her or not. Some aspect of her being seemed different to her at that very moment, but she couldn’t pinpoint it correctly. She peered up to see the dim flickering light again, and realized it was a candle on the wall.
Why only one candle?
She stared in surprise.
Like a beacon showing us the way.
She anticipated another challenge ahead. Like how she’d figured out the crescent moon key in the prison room. She’d solved it, without James. He’d be proud of her, she knew that much. But still, it felt good. She felt a rush of power enter her nostrils, filled with the scent of lobelia and a hint of sage. It entered down her throat and collected in her joints. In each joint, starting with her shoulders, she felt a surge of energy meeting and overlapping. It slowly seeped down to her fingertips, and Atlanta ra
ised her hands to her face to check for anything unusual.
“What’s wrong?” Darian asked from beside her.
“I feel good.” Atlanta replied.
“Good?”
“Seriously. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel good. Really good,” she said, and grinned as she reassured Darian.
He stared at her and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something. Then closed it and shook his head as he followed along beside her.
They walked quietly and finally approached the rustic serrated candle holder on the cinderblock wall.
“It looks like a dagger.” Atlanta reached up to touch it, then hesitated and lay her palm against the wall instead.
“Is this some twisted kind of dungeon?” Raul asked in an unsteady voice, clearly seeking reassurance and comfort.
“We’ll figure it out. We must,” Atlanta replied, determined in face and stance, not reciprocating Raul’s assurance of safety.
He shrugged and continued to shakily observe the candle holder. The three comically stood around it, staring at the flame. It burned with a blue tint in its center.
Atlanta stared at the flame and then at the boys standing on either side of her. Darian’s face was unreadable, but Raul couldn’t seem to hide his anxiety. She felt for him. He was scared. A boy who was a man, but not much older than her. She wondered briefly what he and Darian had been through in their lives. Had they always known each other? What horrible things had they dealt with in their past? Or had they had experiences similar to hers? She sighed inwardly. It didn’t matter. What mattered right now was saving Calen and getting out of this place. She gently put her hands on the shoulders of Darian and Raul and gently pushed them aside.
“What’re you doing?” Darian reached to stop her. “We don’t know what the flame contains. It could be charmed or, worse, cursed.”
“A cursed flame? And what if we don’t figure our way out? We’ll just spend the rest of our days in this rat-hole?” Atlanta snapped at him. Her anger burned in her eyes, and it took her a moment to realize she was overreacting. “Sorry,” she muttered, “I just want to get outta here.”
“Touché, Atlanta,” Darian replied.
The look in his eyes. It’s like he’s scared of me or something. She held his gaze a moment before turning back to stare at the flame. There were different hues within the flame that made her mind soar. At first glance, she imagined herself free-falling and approaching large cumulus clouds. She imagined the clouds morphing their shapes and speaking to her. Suddenly, she began to choke. She felt as if she had inhaled a glass of iron-flavored water and she could not stop coughing. She felt her lungs fill with water like a fresh glass of orange juice being poured from a glass jar, the way James used to serve it to her.
She continued choking and forced her eyes open. This is a test. She fixated on the core of the seemingly- incessant flame before her. She tried to clear her throat and control the cough. Swallowing several times, she waved Darian back when he stepped forward to help her. “D-Don’t!” she rasped. She bent forward and inhaled a long breath, then another. She straightened, then licked her fingers and pinched the flame.
The moment it went out, another glow appeared in the distance.
Raul glared at Atlanta disapprovingly. “See what you’ve done? Now what?”
“Follow the path. And make sure we don’t do anything too stupid on the way.” She returned his glare with one of her own. She swore she heard Darian snicker behind her.
As they approached the second candle, she could see halos of dark blue swirling in the air and beaming their way towards them. The hue of the candlelight was a darker blue, yet the light seemed dimmer. The dimness alternated with every step they took towards it.
As soon as they reached the candelabra, Atlanta blew it out. Another candle lit, its light reaching out to them from a turn in the path.
Raul seemed to hesitate each time the moved on, and continued looking disapprovingly at Darian and Atlanta, but they weren’t focused on him. Atlanta realized that Darian was in sync with her. They mechanically moved together towards the next candle.
She had a feeling the trail of candlelight was leading them somewhere that wasn’t a trap. In fact, she believed that if they were to be trapped or attacked, it would’ve happened before they were put in the prison cell. Deep inside she felt almost a little amused, her mind entrenched in the intricate details of the maze they were in. She couldn’t help but notice how the brightness of the candle light would alter rhythmically from one place to the other, and the instantaneous shift of place of the flame. She got carried away in the seconds right after one flame would extinguish and the next would light, and she could hear the air carry the blue flames and travel to the other candle and ignite it.
They turned the corner, and Darian chuckled softly. “I see,” he murmured.
This flame was not like the others. This time the shape of the flame confirmed Atlanta’s thoughts that there were spells were being thrown around them and cast upon every inch of the maze. The flame was a hand that stretched from the wax of the candle and flickered the motioning of its bright blue fingers, signaling for them to approach.
Atlanta walked ahead of Darian, and Raul draped behind them. She broke into a jog and approached the hand. Without hesitating, she reached out and grasped the hand with her own. It didn’t burn, neither did she feel physical fingers intertwining with her own. Instead, it felt more like a cool breeze that blew past her fingers and the flame extinguished.
There was darkness for seconds. Almost as if the mechanical trail of candlelight lagged and they were back in the black of the prison cell. After the moment of darkness two beams of light fell diagonally from both sides onto the ground, revealing a wooden chair. The color was faded and its legs were sharp and pointy.
“What now?” Raul asked in frustration as he turned and looked at Darian, then Atlanta, and then back at the chair.
“We figure it out.” Atlanta shrugged. She walked towards the beams of light and the chair, and looked at the corners of the bricks. She was trying to trace the light back to the source of emission, but failed to find any physical evidence of the source. It was as if the light was shining from thin air, just slightly before the ceiling of that maze, dangling out of nothingness.
Cautious for the first time, she tentatively touched the chair. When nothing happened she tried moving it from its place, but it was fixed to the ground. She examined every side of the chair and its legs, but nothing changed in the perimeter around them. “We’re supposed to figure this out.”
“Figure what out?” Raul threw his hands up in exasperation. “That some psychopath is playing tricks on us?”
“No. It’s a test.” Atlanta wondered why she didn’t feel anxious the way Raul appeared to be. Darian seemed calm, too, as he stood watching her. “We’ve reached the end of the maze. Behind this chair is a wall and to the left is the only remaining pathway, which leads to what appears to be a dead end. We need to figure it out.” She moved her hands around the chair, trying to figure out the riddle on it.
Darian walked up to her.
She sighed deeply and stood up, looking at Darian while trying to keep her frustration composed, but her arms were crossed and a strand of her hair fell over her eyes and covered the side of her forehead. And Raul was not helping; his anxiety at that moment and ever since they had been in the maze did nothing but fuel her frustration even more. Darian, on the other hand, was calmer than the both of them. He smiled at Atlanta.
“What?” she said in frustration, trying to turn away from Darian.
Raul moved towards the chair and rested his hand on the back of it. Upon touching it, a slight sound of creaking whispered from a distance and Atlanta instantly turned to try to find where it came from.
For a moment, it felt as if they were not alone in the maze. However, just as both Darian and Atlanta looked around for the source of the sound, Raul sat on the chair and the sound of the creaking resounded thro
ugh the maze. From the left side of the chair, at the end of the pathway, the wall slid open and revealed another path.
Atlanta hurried towards the newly-revealed path just as Raul stood up from the chair. The moment he lifted himself up and was no longer in contact with the seat the walls closed again, inches from Atlanta’s face.
“This has got to be a joke,” she puffed. She turned to Darian, who was squinting at the wall.
“One of us will have to stay behind.”
“Absolutely not,” Atlanta said. “We have no idea what this thing is, let alone how to get out. We’ve made it this far together. Someone’s trying to split us up.”
“Indeed,” Raul said, nodding. “But there’s no other way around it. We can’t beat this with speed.”
Atlanta slammed her fist against the wall and growled in anger. “This is absurd!”
“The question is, who stays?” Darian said, ignoring her outburst.
“I will.”
They turned to Raul, who was already making his way back to the chair.
“I can’t let you do that,” Darian said.
“Of course you can,” Raul replied. “This maze has something to do with Atlanta; I’m sure of it and you are, too. So, there’s no question about her moving forward. And you’re the more powerful of us both. She’s going to need you.”
Darian shook his head. “My magic is useless.”
“But your mind isn’t,” Raul said, sitting down again. “It’s not something to discuss. You’re going. I’m staying.” The wall grumbled and slid open, revealing a hallway beyond. “If anyone can figure out these puzzles, it’s you.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Atlanta said.
“Please, Atlanta,” he smiled. “Just go. I’m tired. Besides, how much worse can it get?”
Atlanta looked to Darian, who only nodded and led the way into the next passage. She glanced at Raul, who gave her a quick smile, and then followed. “Thank you, Raul. We’ll come back for you. I promise.”
They walked past the line where the wall disappeared and heard another creaking sound, this time quicker and slightly less intense. They turned at the same time to look behind at Raul.