The corridors on this level all seemed the same. Dilapidated dark stones lined each wall with only a small opening at the top for light. It felt oppressive. I struggled to breathe as I ran down corridor after corridor, leaving a small set of footprints on the dusty floor.
Red doors flanked either side of the narrow hallways. I tried to ignore them. Most of the doors remained closed, hiding their traps, but a few were open, teasing me with bright lights and melodic music. I scurried through the halls, blending into the shadows. I didn’t have the time or inclination to explore. I wanted out of this place.
On the other side of a half-open door, the guards’ rhythmic march sounded. I skidded to a stop and threw myself backwards against the wall, hoping they hadn’t seen me. I tried to keep from hyperventilating as I risked a quick peek around the corner. Their march grew to resounding booms.
Crap. They were headed towards me. It didn’t matter if they had already seen me or not. If I didn’t move, they’d catch me for sure. My grip tightened on my dagger.
What was I doing? Who did I think I was, taking on an entire army by myself? I wasn’t cut out for this. The future of Lockhorn depended on me, and I only had one shot. I had to play this smart.
I ran in the opposite direction, counting the doors that I passed. Getting lost here would be certain death. Assuming this was like the game, I knew half the doors would bind me in a trap, and the others would send me spiraling back to the beginning. I couldn’t risk either.
Skirting the corner into the fourth room, I rested against the back wall and regarded the roomy surroundings carefully. Grand golden frames trimmed with diamonds lined the walls, decorating paintings of human sacrifice and torture. I bit my cheek and slunk through the shadows. Statues of Berkos and his supporters, some of whom I recognized from Marix’s manor, leered at me. Intermixed between the statues, gargoyles perched atop tall pillars. Their hollow eyes seemed to follow me.
At the far end of the gallery, a portrait of King Berkos stared me down. In a room full of gold and gaudiness, the onyx frame shimmering around his image seemed to bleed evil. My arms prickled with the sensation that I was being watched. I looked around, but only the painting watched me. Feverish black eyes met my gaze, and the edges of his lips were turned up in a mocking smile.
I took a deep breath and shook my shoulders, but the hairs on the back of my neck wouldn’t settle. I jumped forward, anxious to leave that hall. Not all art tempted me.
Before I could prepare for the next challenge, the room shook. Three distinct blasts jolted the ground and rattled the portraits behind me. I waited, and ten seconds later the three booms sounded again. A lump tightened in my chest.
“Pounder,” I said, wiping my palms on my leggings and reaching for the pouch of dragon weed around my neck. If this matched up to the game, I knew the only way to defeat the mutated dragon would be with fire.
My fears were confirmed when I turned the corner. Pounder, a hybrid between an alligator and a dragon, half-slithered, half-crawled across the floor, blocking my path. Drool dripped from the fangs hanging over its long, narrow snout. Behind the elongated nose, spiked ridges ran along its muscular body and encircled the lean, whipping tail. The slits of its eyes turned in my direction, its eyes flashing and fading to white. A long forked tongue uncoiled, snapping as it flicked the ground.
Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I knew it smelled me. I ducked behind the nearest pillar, listening as the jingling from its collar announced its approach. The spiked tail snapped, shaking the pillars with its force. Acid steam burst from its nostrils as it gnashed its teeth, leaving a slick trail across the floor.
Its forked tongue flickered and snapped against my hand, sticking for a moment before releasing my skin. I fumbled with the opening to the pollen pouch and felt the burn sizzle on my wrist when grains of the powder wafted out of the package. The acid on just one grain was enough to burn through the top layer of skin. I hoped they had enough strength to burn through Pounder’s thick underbelly. Large chunks of pollen dropped from the bag, falling into the seams between the marble tiles around the base of the pillar. I had underestimated its speed, but I knew it would follow my scent.
It deserved its name—its tail, once engaged, pounded in three continuous snaps, pulverizing anything unfortunate enough to be in its path. The moment its snout rounded the pillar, I blew a burst of pollen in its direction and somersaulted to the right.
Its tail thumped the ground three times, and then it jumped, snapping and snarling as it landed where I had scattered the pollen. Its tail thumped again, and I ran, throwing the vial of dragon weed oil behind me. After the next two thumps, Pounder thrashed wildly, knocking over the stone pillars.
I ran out of the gallery and around the corner, opening the second door on the right. Pounder’s muffled thumps faded. I leaned back against the door and waited for my heart to slow. Small blisters bubbled up on my skin where the pollen grains had landed. I was more flustered than I wanted to admit; my hands shook as I tucked the blisters under my sleeve.
The hallway seemed to lengthen the further I went. Torches lined the walls, but only one in every three bore light. I ran forward, glancing back over my shoulder as I counted the doors. When I twisted the handle to enter the next room, the door behind me opened.
Crap. A set of guards had found me.
Stealth ceased to be important. Speed became my only tool, and, unfortunately, my head start diminished as soon as they broke into a run.
I opened and slammed doors, going through some and back through others, careful to keep track of where I was. The thought of avoiding one danger by falling into another terrified me. If I died, it didn’t really matter how it happened. Death in the king’s castle would be final, and the rebellion would fail.
I ran through the next door and slammed into one of the guards. Glowering at me from below the tufted helmet, his obsidian eyes shifted to my hand. He growled and chomped his rotted teeth, tightening his grip around his mace.
I spun around and ran. It wasn’t the right direction, but that didn’t matter anymore. The walls crowded in, imposing, dark, and void of any warmth. The thought of imprisonment made me shiver. Terror choked me, taking my breath hostage in my throat.
The metallic clomp of his footsteps echoed through the halls, and it grew louder the further I ran. When I turned around, three more guards had joined him, marching in synchronization. The rhythmic beat of their boots on the hard stones chilled me to the bone. They weren’t in any hurry to get me; it was inevitable.
The cruelty in their eyes startled me as they bore down with deadly intent. All the other dangers I’d faced had hinted at death, but this was the first time I feared torture.
My feet slipped out from under me as I slid around the corner. The crumbled stones skinned my face and palms. Forgetting about the dangers lurking behind each door, I opened them all as I fled for my life.
The roar of flames burst through one door behind me, and shadowy creatures lurked in the entrance to another. The guards didn’t miss a beat, walking through the flames and ignoring the shadows as they systematically closed each door and shortened the gap.
I reached down and halted as my hand strayed to the dagger. That wasn’t enough to protect myself from the guards. I hesitated before uncoiling the whip from my belt. The weapon I hadn’t wanted to bring was my only chance at escape. I arched it through the air, surprised at its fluid movement. The guards hesitated at the first crack of the whip, and then sped forward towards me. I twisted the lever controlling the power level to low, feeling the buzz vibrate through my hand.
The blue flame empowered me, and I clenched my jaw. I charged forward, snapping the whip. I missed more than anything, but every spark of the whip when it cracked against the wall inspired fear in their eyes. My inexperience added to their distrust. I tightened my grip, keeping the whip from falling out of my hands as it struck each guard in turn. The electric current shook violently when it hit the metal breastplates. Their
yells were like whispers above the deafening vibrations of the whip. I spun wildly, and I didn’t stop until every guard lay unconscious on the edges of the corridor.
The smell of burnt skin permeated the narrow passageway. I stepped over each guard before turning the whip off. My hands still shook.
I closed my eyes, reorienting myself to my position in the castle. Where had my frantic running taken me? I knew that several doors looped back to previous locations in the castle. The doors in this hall and the proximity to the room guarded by Pounder told me I was closer to the end than I’d thought. Re-securing the whip to my belt, I passed through the third red door on the left. Then, after passing the third hanging torch, I walked through the second door. On a map, this linear approach didn’t make sense. Only one thing in Lockhorn ever had, and now he was gone.
The stones crackled as I moved further down the hall, scattering pebbles to the edges. Uh-oh. I crept forward, reaching out to the walls on either side of me. Bigger chunks of rock dissolved around my feet. I stopped, holding my breath, hoping the stone would hold. Somehow, I had miscounted the doors.
The red door seemed miles away, out of reach. My arms strained against the walls on opposite sides of the hall, hoping to lighten my steps. The tentative touch of my left foot proved too much. The stone cracked, disintegrating beneath me. My screams echoed as I fell.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Pain rippled down my side as I landed on a pile of stones. I blinked, watching the flecks of dust settle. The only light flickered through a narrow crevasse in the ceiling, where the floor of the hallway had been. Barely enough light to see beyond my hands.
I wanted to cry, to give up, but I couldn’t. Not with everyone counting on me. Maybe a hidden trap didn’t have to mean game over. Maybe this was just a restart.
I pushed myself up, nearly screaming when my dislocated ribs popped back into place. My breaths quickened, and a rush of nausea hit me. I rolled to my knees and pulled myself up. Rough stones scratched my face while I fought to control my breath.
The ground groaned as rocks and debris settled. When I stabilized, I heard another moan.
“Who’s there?” I pulled out my dagger and watched its tip waver in the faint light. I steadied my trembling hand and took a cautious step across the room.
The floor gave with each step. Rocks blocked my path, tripping me as I stumbled along the uneven surface. I struggled to find a suitable place for my feet while keeping an eye on the dark lump at the edge of my vision.
The hunched creature moaned again. It reeked of burned flesh and sweat. A moment of panic choked me. I looked down at my dagger and reconsidered. I didn’t want to get that close to whatever they had left in here to die. Reaching back, I unhooked my bow and poked the back of the creature with its tip. It didn’t stir.
Morbid curiosity drove me closer. I poked again, harder, moving it forcefully. An arm slid down, revealing a battered face and chiseled jaw.
“Arrow!” I dropped to my knees and framed his face in my hands. My tears dropped onto him. I leaned over and kissed them off, wiping his skin clear of dirt and ash. I felt sick when I saw how his pale skin had been darkened by bruises and welts. His moans broke my heart.
“I thought I had lost you forever. It’s me,” I said, peeling his hair away from his forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His hands fumbled up his chest until they reached my hands. I bit my tongue, trying to keep myself from sobbing. I let the silent tears fall. He moaned again.
“I told you we were doing this together. I still mean that,” I said, tightening my lips. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise you, but I have to get my bag on the other end of the room.”
I let his hands go and ran to where I thought my bag had fallen. After what felt like an eternity, I found it, hidden between rocks and debris. The leather ripped when I yanked it out, but I didn’t care. I ran back to Arrow’s side. His hands warmed one of mine while I rummaged through the bag. I emptied the contents in my lap, rolling the unneeded items out of the way. One of the luminance rocks rolled against him, brushing against the skin on his arm.
His groans deepened into agony.
“Oh crap! I’m so sorry!” I said, grabbing the ball of light and placing it on the stone next to me. I hadn’t thought about the heat of the ball radiating through him. I shook my head, cursing myself for my thoughtlessness.
I dug further into the pile of items in my lap and grabbed the final scraps of tangled vines.
Melody’s last-minute gifts had now saved me twice.
“It’ll be okay soon. I have the vines. Just sit still so I can place them.” I unrolled the vines and slid my dagger along the interior seam of the plant. The crisp smell hit me, and I almost smiled.
I laid the cool interior of the vines across his chest, cringing as he shook in pain. He knocked them off his chest.
“Does it hurt?” I asked.
“No,” he whispered, trying to turn away from me.
“Then what are you doing? You need these!” I grabbed the vines off the ground.
“No,” he said. “You said it yourself. The whips are deadly. Don’t waste your vines on me. You might need them.”
I bit my lower lip. I couldn’t deny the danger from the whips, and I knew I might not be able to heal him. But I also knew I couldn’t leave without him. I forced a smile into my words and repositioned the vines across his chest.
“Oh no, I’m not saving them for me. You’d be proud of me, getting to this point with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. I have another set in the other bag, but these are for you.” I hoped he would forgive the lie.
He didn’t argue.
“Arrow?” I asked, shaking his shoulder. Tears of frustration and anger boiled over, spilling onto my cheeks. I splayed the vines and spread them evenly across his chest, covering the slashed ribs and bruises. I looked at the diminishing pile at my side, hoping I had enough. “You’re not leaving me again.” I ripped more vines open, draping them across his forehead and up and down his arms.
His moans deepened and then relaxed, and his breathing grew slow. Too slow. Rocks dug into my knees as I leaned over him, listening to the sluggish beat of his heart. I couldn’t be too late.
“Arrow,” I wept. “Open your eyes. You can’t leave me. I don’t want to do this without you. Don’t leave me.” I wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked back and forth, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest.
I’d never been one for waiting. In fact, the longer it took for something to happen, the less interested in it I became. Instant gratification, my mom called it. I called it common sense. Life went by too quickly to waste time waiting on something when you could have something else instead. As I watched the soft flickering of his eyelids, I begrudgingly admitted that some things were worth waiting for.
That didn’t make it easier though. Stuck in the darkness, time stretched to an agonizing pace. I had no way to judge how long I had been in there or how long Arrow slept. When I looked up, I only saw the soft flickering of the torches, and I wondered if I would be stuck in this pit for eternity.
I leaned back and rested inside the niche of rocks I had sculpted into a chair next to Arrow’s body. The tips of our fingers touched before I closed my eyes. I don’t know if I slept before a fit of coughing startled me. I jumped up, one hand dropping to the hilt of my dagger.
Arrow’s body shook. He groaned as he pushed himself up, covering his ribs with his wrapped hands. And then he turned, and I saw his weary eyes.
“Arrow?” I blinked the happy tears back. “No, no, don’t get up,” I said, helping him lay back down.
“Alex?” he asked in a deep, raspy voice. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m the Golden Hero, remember? I’m here to save you,” I said lightly, falling to the ground at his side.
He half-laughed and grabbed at his ribs. “I thought we were done saving each other.”
“I don’t think we ever will be,”
I whispered.
His hand grabbed the cuff of my shirt, pulling me closer. My heart pounded as I looked into his eyes. The darkness could not hide his raw emotions. “Alex, thank you.” His hold on my shirt grew stronger, and his other arm encircled me from behind, pulling me in for a kiss.
I sensed sadness in his kisses, and I saw it in his eyes when he pulled back.
“I’m sorry I dragged you into all this,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“If my brother hadn’t called you here, you wouldn’t be stuck. You’d be out there, in your own world, free of the burdens we’ve placed on you. Free from this dungeon. And the way I treated you in Flourin—”
“Hey, stop that. I may not have asked for this, but it hasn’t been all that bad.” I squeezed his hand. “In fact, it’s been better than I ever imagined. This world, and you,” I said, holding his gaze, “have shown me what I’ve been missing. I’ve learned to not shy away from adventure, or from love…” I let that thought trail off and bit my lip. “You sound like you’re giving up, and we can’t do that. It’s not too late to get out of here and save the queen. There has to be a way.”
I stepped away from him and patted the walls, looking for something to grab ahold of.
“I’m just trying to be realistic,” Arrow said. “I don’t see many options here; there are no doors, stairs, or exits in here. I mean, think about everything we’ve seen. My men didn’t even make it out of Marix’s manor. How are we going to break out of here?” He looked up at the crevasse above us.
“There’s always a way out, we just need to find it. Don’t underestimate me now.” I moved from wall to wall, unable to find a grip to hold on to.
“Do you know something I don’t?”
“No, but it’s way too early to give up hope. Just let me think.” I wasn’t going to give up.
“Let me know if you come up with something. I’m going to look for a forgotten slice of bread.”
Dreamscape: Saving Alex Page 32
