by Julie Reece
“Oh, Mags, don’t.” Raven drops to her knees. Taking Maggie’s hands in her own, she pulls her friend close. “We agreed on a plan last night, remember?”
Maggie glances up as Dane nears. “Maybe we should go with them. What if something happens and they need us? I think we should go.” She snorts, sucking whatever’s clogging her nose back into her sinus cavity. A noise to make any Viking proud. Or nauseated.
“Oh, no you don’t. I need you and Dane to manage things here, for peace of mind. Besides,” Rae smiles, slinging her braid over her shoulder, “you lack the necessary superpowers to take this joker out.”
Oh hell yeah!
Maggie’s eyebrows spring up. “Who said anything about taking anybody out? Don’t mess around. Get Rose and come home. That’s enough.”
“We’re going to be epic. You had a feeling in your gut about this trip, so listen to yourself and wish me luck.”
“No one is wishing you anything, because you’re not going.” Gideon towers over her bent form. His stance looks about as pliable as granite.
Raven is dangerously slow to rise. When she does, she allows the full force of her anger to shine from her face. I feel every volt of her one hundred watt I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-you-say-I’m-going glare.
Gideon’s Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow.
Message received.
I fight a smile. While I don’t enjoy seeing Raven nurse a broken heart, observing the great Gideon Maddox reduced to jelly by a mere mortal is extremely satisfying.
“Last night, you clarified we aren’t together anymore,” Raven says. “That choice removes you from influencing me. Understand?” She bends, retrieving her leather bag from the floor, then faces me. “Ready, handsome?”
I grin. Oh yeah.
“Raven … ” Gideon’s tone is soft despite the warning in it.
She ignores him. “Hugs?” Throwing her arms around Maggie, black hair mixes with blond. Tiny sniffles are followed by whispers that turn into uncontrollable giggling. “And find Mr. Mouse. You know Edgar can’t sleep without his mouse.”
Maggie’s laugh ends in a sob. “It’s wrong to keep that animal hopped up on catnip all the time.”
“I know.” Raven gives her a last hug. “But listen, if I don’t—”
“Nope. You’ll come back. You’ll go to college, and movie stars will wear your clothes on red carpets.”
“I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.”
Maggie mumbles, “Damn straight you will,” but Raven’s already extracting her arms and moving on to Dane.
Gideon paces in the background. I’m confused because he could try a lot harder to stop her … unless he really wants her along. But then why the big show?
“Take care of our Mags?”
“Always.” Dane lowers his head. “You find this Rosamond chick and git to home, hear?”
“Yes, sir.” She runs a hand down his arm and squeezes before letting go. Once her back is turned, Dane’s expression goes feral. I’ve seen it before, a mask to hide other emotions. Still, he’s a force to be reckoned with, and I wish he was coming.
Rae adjusts the strap on her pack. “Let’s go, Wynter.”
We move to the gleaming sheet of silver hiding a portal to the world I loathe. I raise my hand, fingertips gliding across the smooth surface, but feel nothing unexpected. “How does it work?”
“Is there anything I can say to convince you to stay?” Gideon asks.
Raven finds his eyes in the glass, her determination palpable.
His lips twitch. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he found something funny. “My father said to look through the mirror, beyond the obvious reflection to what’s on the other side.”
My chest rises with a deep inhalation as I focus on the glass.
The glass shimmers, wavy lines on a bad TV screen. Fuzzy, gray-green smudges bleed though my reflection. As I concentrate, the image sharpens to a line of hedges across a stone footpath on the other side. I hear water, smell the wind through the trees.
My hand stretches out, and this time, it passes easily though the mirror’s surface. The sensation is not unlike Jell-O—until my fingers start to burn. Growing suction prevents my attempts to draw back.
My mouth dries, but I can’t stop sweating. Stop being a bloody coward and just go, I tell myself. I let the mirror consume my arm, suck me deeper inside its icy cavern. I close my eyes as my knee follows, then my foot. Once inside, I can’t breathe. It’s as if I’m trapped inside a water balloon, except this one’s filled with freezing cold oil. Blind, my fingers press against a slick, rubbery substance. Elastic walls give under my hands, but I can’t break through. My lungs tighten. Claustrophobia grips my throat.
I’m about to lose my shite, when following too closely, Raven steps on my heel. She reminds me that while I’m no expert, I know more about the labyrinth than anyone else. People are counting on a leader that can hold it together, not a cowering Nancy-boy.
With renewed determination, I shove forward, really put my back into it. The barrier spreads thinner and thinner, but I’m desperate for oxygen, now. At the point of either this wall or my lungs blowing apart, elastic snaps, spitting me high into the air. My arse smacks the ground, driving needle-like pains into my tailbone.
Sludge coats my face, fills my eyes. As I dig it out with my fingers, I notice my feet first. Am I supposed to have those? Last time, my legs remained a foggy enigma below the knee. Now, my heels dig at the earth. Yes! I’m completely solid, corporeal.
I don’t know what I expected. Since we entered by way of mirror, maybe we keep our physical bodies. On impulse, I send a request out to test for wind and am immediately rewarded with a light breeze. In this moment, I sense more of its properties than I ever have. Currents hug the landscape in every direction. High, low, differing patterns skim across lakes and ponds, dip between hilltops, glide over forests. They’re ready, listening and waiting, for me.
Mind blown.
As my companions break the boundary between worlds, their bodies land with a thud and roll past in the chalky dirt and leaves.
“Ugh!” Raven’s fingers pinch at the thick, yellow mucus covering her clothes. “That was … this is beyond disgusting.”
“Not unlike pushing out of a placenta, I imagine,” Gideon announces, with his usual charm.
She stops cleaning and glares. “I didn’t need the visual, too. Thanks.”
A laugh rumbles deep in his throat.
“I’m glad somebody finds this amusing.” Raven wipes more slop from her arms and legs. We all do. “It won’t come off! And I smell like a Porta-Potty.”
“A what?” Now I’m laughing.
“Don’t you have those in Europe? It’s a portable … You know what, never mind.” She stands, stamps her feet. “Got to admit, I don’t feel much like a ghost.”
“Since we didn’t use magic salts or enter through the camera, I think our bodies came with us.” I shrug.
Gideon doesn’t correct me, so I assume my hypothesis works for him. A quick sweep of our surroundings shows we’ve landed in some garden pathway. Two rows of hedges dense as brick walls and twelve feet high run in both directions with a familiar cobblestone path in between. In front of us, the hedge breaks into a half circle to accommodate a small pond and garden, definitely inside the maze.
“A lake? Thank all that’s clean and goo free,” Raven says. Before I guess her plan, she’s sprinting toward the water.
“Raven, wait!” Gone.
Gideon’s on his feet. “What is it?” He must hear the panic in my voice, but it’s too late. The girl of our dreams dives into the murky pond and disappears. I’m up and running with him at my side. “You can’t do that shite here,” I pant. “Nothing’s safe.”
His eyes widen with understanding. While she’s splashing around, oblivious to possible dangers, we race to the water’s edge and throw ourselves in after her.
�
�Rae!” Gideon’s usually steady voice cracks. “Get out of the damn water.”
Our yelling gets her attention. She faces us, waves and smiles like the fecking Queen. We’re halfway to her when I see a shadow break the surface. Dark and spiny, a fin cuts the water, winding its way back and forth from the shallows.
“Rae—”
“Almost done,” she answers, turning aside. She can’t be serious. This is no time for stupid, girly hygiene.
“Do you know what that fin’s attached to?” Gideon addresses me, but his eyes stay fixed on the thing in the water.
I shake my head. “Nothing good.” Little in the maze is.
Finally, Raven tracks our gaze to the shiny, blade gliding toward us. Her cry shrivels my pod faster than the cold water. Don’t panic, don’t panic. “Don’t panic!” Is that my voice? I sound like a nine-year-old girl.
“Get her out of here!” Gideon orders. He veers away from me. “Rae, go with Cole.” He shouts and splashes before swimming the opposite direction.
“Wait, what … ?” My brow smooths. A decoy? Right! As I lunge for Rae, the fin angles his direction, just as we hoped. Except now he’s screwed.
Raven’s protesting, but I keep focus on the threat. The simple winds I conjure can’t stop something that size, but I have to try. My fear already has the sky reacting, darkening with my mood. Ignoring the nausea roiling in my gut, I continue swimming, dragging Rae behind me. It isn’t long until I touch bottom, and plant my feet in the muck. I start slow, nudging little breezes with my mind, gathering them together to make stronger gusts.
A glossy back erupts from the churning water, pushing the fin higher. Only it’s not a fin, it’s a shell. Black armour connects the beast in three places. Giant claws with razor sharp pincers lift from the muddy depths. Dripping water, they snap and bite at the air. Scorpion.
Wonderful.
I grab Raven’s wrist. She wrestles against me, screaming for Gideon, but he’s too preoccupied with a stabbing tail and menacing claws to answer. Two unblinking eyes pivot in their ebony sockets. This thing has a face uglier than a dog’s arse.
My free hand juts out, and I drive the winds I’ve collected forward, straining until I have decent force blowing against the water. The resistance is like pushing down a wall, but I manage to get a sequence of waves going. They crash the monster’s body. I hoped to knock him over, but he’s too strong. And now he’s good and aggro. Angling toward us, it moves quickly. The tail rises, deadly stinger poised to strike.
We’re so dead.
Firelight flashes. I fall forward as Rae stumbles into my ribs. When I get to my feet, a ball of flame pelts the scorpion’s side. The fire bolt bounces off the armor and drops hissing into the water. Another missile hits, then another.
One by one, Gideon lobs small flares onto the scorpion. Not powerful enough to kill, but they might scare him off. Sure enough, the animal lurches away before darting under the water. We track his tail hovering above the surface until it submerges completely.
I ease Rae toward the shallows with Gideon lagging behind. A patch of thick reeds slow our pace. We’re making progress when a splash disrupts the water. Gideon shouts. Raven gasps. And I’m nothing short of frantic as the fin rises on our right. The black tail arcs over its back, water trickling from the stinger. My arms shoot out on instinct. Our doom is ten feet away. Nine. Eight. My heart races, head pounds. I can’t see the claws and pull my feet up, tucking my thighs into my chest. Seven feet away, six … I’m practically hyperventilating as I wait for the scissoring mandibles to sever a leg or slice me in half below the surface.
Somewhere behind me, Raven screams. “Don’t, don’t, don’t!”
Using my fear as fuel, I call the winds. Power infuses me, shakes my body. “Fight me, then. C’mon, damn you!” I send the tempest out as he lunges. The monster smashes against my barrier as though hitting a glass building. When it staggers, I press my advantage. The gale blows so hard, water shoots away from his skeletal frame until he’s writhing on a mud floor.
A blast of fire pounds the scorpion’s side. Bigger, more explosive, the improved firepower Gideon’s launching proves he’s learning fast. Sparks fly, shell smokes and chars as a firebomb tunnels into the animal’s head, finishing it.
Exhausted, my hands drop causing the winds to slow, then cease. I can barely make out the creature’s dark outline sinking as the now freed water rushes over it. With what little strength I have left, I head for shore, Raven’s hand limp in mine.
My slick hand loses its grip, and I slap at the water tying to reclaim her. A bout of vertigo blurs my vision. Water laps at my neck, rising to my chin. I’d fight but my muscles cramp, and I go under. I’m floating, or maybe I’m drowning.
Someone yanks my arm. Raven’s pale face appears almost white against her dark hair, braid hanging limply down her back. The sight fades in and out. She’s slipping away.
Gideon swims into view, fingers straining toward me. Two hands hook beneath my arms before clasping together across my chest. My head sags as we stumble out of the water.
“You’re no feather, are you, England?” Gideon grouses, hauling me up the soggy bank. “But I think you’ll live.”
I nod, because I’m breathing too hard to speak. My boots drag the mud. Then I’m rolled onto my back, and someone brushes the hair from my eyes.
Raven crouches beside me. Her small hand closes over mine, warming my skin.
I watch her knees sink into the soft soil. When my breaths finally slow, I say, “Are you … okay?” The question liberates her smile.
“Never mind me, how are you? I thought you’d drown.”
“I’m fine,” I wheeze. “Never better.” My gaze finds Gideon. “Thanks, mate. Really, thank you.”
He looks from me to Raven with relief and something else. “I should be thanking you.”
All that matters is she’s safe, which reminds me. “Rae, you can’t just … run off like that.” I suck in another lungful of air. “I wasn’t kidding about monsters.”
“I’m sorry. That was incredibly stupid, and selfish, and … stupid. I didn’t think past getting the slime off. It won’t happen again.”
My hand rotates until we’re palm to palm, and our fingers thread. “You’re forgiven.”
“Come on.” Gideon’s voice is quick and tight. He snaps his head, clearing the dripping hair from his eyes. “We need to keep moving. Let’s find Rosamond and get back before dark. I have no desire to spend the night inside Pan’s nightmare.”
His estimated timeline is a bit optimistic, but I keep mum. The guy’s as irritable as poison oak, but he just saved my arse, so I won’t provoke him.
Raven helps me up, and I throw an arm over her shoulder as casually as I can. She’s been through a lot and needs my support, right? Sure, we’ll all buy that.
Maddox stares at the pond, his mismatched eyes riveted on the gray-green water. The corners of his mouth bend. I can’t see what’s amusing, considering any one of the three of us were almost impaled on the end of a giant scorpion’s stinger, but his smile stretches to a full-on grin. When he chuckles, it’s contagious and dammit, now I’m smiling too. He looks over at me and laughs. We’re both whooping it up, by God, because nearly dying is just hilarious. My arm is around his ex and he’s probably going to change his mind, want her back, and stab me in the heart. Brill. I only laugh harder.
Raven watches us. I gather she’s wondering if we’ve finally cashed in our sanity chips by the confusion etched on her brow. “What’s so funny?’
I have no idea, but tears threaten the corners of my eyes. Raven throws her hands up which Gideon must find comical, because he claps me on the back and leans over, shoulders shaking with his big guffaws. I’ve never heard Gideon’s laugh before. It’s deep and hearty and makes the corner of Raven’s mouth curl up. All reasons to hate him more, but I don’t. Instead, I break into a new fit of hysterics, because I need this release.
; Raven tries again. “What am I missing?”
Gideon straightens, his laughter subsiding as his usual reserve regains control. He watches my arm tighten on Raven’s shoulder and does nothing. I don’t get it. “We’re alive,” he says. “Don’t you see? We used the elements to fend off a homicidal insect and survived.”
We did. And it felt good. Important. Maybe for the first time, I have hope we can actually get Rose out instead of the bull I’ve been shoveling in the hopes someone might believe me.
“Do you know where we are?” Gideon asks me. “There’s a tower over there.”
I spot the structure beyond the hedge. “It’s farther than it looks.”
“Is it hers?”
“Possibly.” I can tell by his frown he doesn’t like my answer. I didn’t spend much time in the labyrinth, but I know we won’t just waltz in here and take Rose out in a day.
We’ll have to spend the night.
Chapter Eighteen
Raven
The sky is heavy and gray with thunderclouds. Gale force winds howl and moan around the white clapboard siding of the tiny church building in Sales Hollow. My hair escapes its bonds, whips my face. The thin white nightgown I wear flaps against my calves as the first raindrop falls.
“Mother!” I call. “Mother, where are you?”
As a child, I had a lot of nightmares. I recognize this as one, but that doesn’t stop the images from coming. Rain falls harder, soaking my gown, turning the fabric sheer. My flesh pebbles under the freezing water. Somewhere, a door slams. Reedy trees bend to breaking in the storm. Yet here I stand.
“Mother?”
The trickle of water at my feet widens to a stream, quickly rising to my knees. The runoff carves a ravine in the ground between the church graveyard and the gate. Guess which side I’m on? Along the hillside, gravestones tilt in the washing soil. They slide and slip away completely as rain loosens their footers. A mudslide exposes a dozen coffins at least. Slim wooden boxes that house the dead careen down the steep bank, overturning like cars in a soapbox derby pileup.
