Balance of the 12

by Ania Bo

  There were more mirrors holding terrified captives, and others depicting burning villages with the dead piled in front of their own homes, but Dwade no longer cared. He couldn’t. His only goal was to reach the end of this absurd test. As if some higher power heard his thoughts, a light appeared before them. He stopped to see what it was. He turned his head to check his friends and noticed the mirrors behind them started to disappear. Dwade took a deep breath. “Everyone pick up the pace. I think we’re almost out.”

  They jogged, unable to full out run since the blindfolded Readers could only move so fast. There was a change in temperature as they neared the light, and Shasta cried out in delight. “Are we out?”

  “Yes,” he said more with concern than joy. Uncovering their eyes, the Readers saw what had caused Dwade to hesitate. A temple stood before them along with a final octagonal mirror placed right before the entrance.

  “I guess we aren’t out,” Han said dejectedly. Surrounding the temple were additional mirror mazes that led to who knew where.

  “We must have come the wrong way,” Violen said.

  “There was no other way,” Dwade answered firmly. “Trust me.”

  “Then we need to get through the temple.” Shasta took a step forward.

  Dwade examined the temple from the bottom of the stairs where he stood. The walls were a golden color that reflected the sun shining from the sky above. Whether the sun was real, or an illusion was difficult to tell. Dwade and Violen walked up the stairs and around the mirror so they could clearly see the temple façade. It was decorated with lotus flowers hand painted with bright, vivid colors—purple, pink, blue, and at the top a row of white ones.

  “The lotuses of the Zaends. We must be close,” Han announced. Below the painted flowers a large iron door blocked their path. They approached quickly at first then stilled when they noticed the bones littering the threshold.

  “We must be careful how we enter,” Violen warned, studying a skull lying at her feet. “There’s obviously a right and a wrong way.”

  The companions stepped closer to the iron door while trying to avoid stepping on the brittle, white bones. There were engravings on the door Dwade couldn’t quite make out. They appeared to be depictions of four large eyes that glared down at the temple entrance.

  “The four eyes of the Ilih,” Shasta whispered.

  “The Ilih?” Dwade asked. He remembered seeing the emblem on the Ilih flag during the meeting with the Chancellor. The image was a simplistic drawing of four eyes, two on the top and two on the bottom, and they created something similar to two figure eights adjacent to one another.

  “It’s a symbol of wisdom,” Shasta explained. “Three eyes represent the wisdom of one’s own body, soul and mind, while the last eye represents the ability to receive wisdom from others.”

  Han coughed loudly and stepped closer. “As much as I would love a good history lesson about the Ilih, let’s try and hurry up and figure this out. The sun is going down.” And he was right. The sun had changed its position drastically, revealing it wasn’t a real sun at all. He tensed, wondering what other creatures might be lurking in this world, and he certainly didn’t want to fight them in the dark.

  Feeling the temperature drop, Violen took off her cloak and threw it around Dwade’s neck. Without her cloak, Dwade saw her slim figure clearly, and his mind returned to the vision and their kiss. He shifted on his feet, and he swore she blushed for just a moment.

  “It is cold, and you don’t have your shirt,” she said in a rush.

  “Thank you,” he responded and tried to hide the heat building in his cheeks. Shasta and Han were oblivious to the exchange and were still trying to figure out how to open the iron door.

  “Shasta, what was that rhyme we learned in school? You know, the one we learn as children when we’re taught the ways of the Ilih? If there is the Ilih symbol, this temple must be related to them. Do you remember it?” Han asked.

  Shasta had to think for a moment. “Eyes of wisdom before you lie. To pass, you must on them rely. Turning, turning, your soul may be sliced in two. Open all four of them and wisdom is your due.”

  A grinding noise filled the air as the giant doors grated against the golden stone, opening for them.

  “I did it!” Shasta shouted gleefully before turning to the others in embarrassment. “We did it!” she corrected. She had started to feel like she was just a burden to the others, not really adding any value, and she was excited she was able to contribute this time.

  Violen was the first brave soul to enter as she drew her sword. She stepped gingerly, not wanting to trigger any traps. When she had made it five feet in, the temple filled with light as torches on the walls ignited. The sudden appearance of light made Violen jump backward, and then she froze for a moment. Once it was clear there was no danger, she motioned for the others to follow. They traveled hastily through the passageway lit with torches until they reached a large cavern.

  “How beautiful,” Shasta exclaimed. It appeared as if this place had been made for a dwarven king, a palace underground. It was full of embroidered armchairs, luxurious rugs, and gold and silver statues. A large round table in the center was piled high with food. The fresh fruit, meats, and desserts smelt heavenly to the hungry travelers.

  “Water,” Han said as he made a dash for the table.

  Shasta gave a delighted smile. “So the test is over. We made it!”

  Dwade let his eyes sweep the room. It’s too easy. Shasta heard his thoughts and stopped halfway to the table. “Don’t touch anything,” he said and cautiously walked around the room. “There was a mirror outside of the temple. They must still play a part. I think we’re still in the maze. Otherwise, there would be another way to go.”

  “But there aren’t any mirrors in here,” Shasta argued.

  Dwade searched the room trying to find anything that looked unusual until he came across a silver candelabrum with no candles. Within it, he saw the reflection of the room. “Clever.” He pointed it out then repeated the words Shasta had said to open the doors. “Eyes of wisdom before you lie. To pass, you must on them rely. Turning, turning, your soul may be sliced in two. Open all four of them and wisdom is your due. We must find the eyes of wisdom, and it should be related to the maze.”

  He picked up the candle holder and held it up, twisting it left and right as he observed the room. What he saw almost made him drop the candelabrum onto the floor. The place looked hundreds of years old—filled with dust, cobwebs, and broken furnishings. He moved his head back and forth as he traveled around the room, as it was difficult to see. The glorious statues were covered with sharp needles, and the food on the table was putrid and infested with crawling maggots. No one could survive touching anything here.

  “Come look at this. Quick!” They gathered around Dwade after hearing the urgency in his voice, although Han still looked at the food with longing until Dwade showed him the reflection.

  “What kind of sick game is this?” Violen asked as she looked at the water which was murky and soiled.

  “I have no idea. None of this makes any sense to me,” Dwade said.

  “But those with pure intentions are supposed to pass through. Why won’t they let us pass?” Shasta pointed out.

  “Let’s keep going,” Dwade instructed, not having any other answer.

  At the back of the room, they came to a double staircase, and Dwade turned the candelabrum to both sides. Through the reflection, saw the staircase on the right had deteriorated, and anyone who tried to use it would fall into a gaping hole. On the left, the staircase continued up. “This way.” He couldn’t believe they had to go through so many ridiculous games to simply reach their destination. From the dead bodies around, it was obvious Zaend lands had many visitors, too bad it appeared many did not actually make it.

  When they reached the upper story, the hall abruptly stopped in front of a single door. It was an ordinary wooden door with a curved door handle.

  “Do you see anyth
ing?” Shasta asked as Dwade peered into the makeshift mirror.

  “Nothing.”

  The travelers decided the candelabrum served its purpose and left it near the top of the staircase. A loud noise erupted on the other side of the door, something like a saw cutting through wood or stone, and they jumped.

  “Ready?” Violen asked as she held the door handle. There was no other choice, but to keep pushing forward. They pulled out their respective weapons as Violen yanked open the door.

  A force seemed to push them inside, and the door slammed behind them. The companions now understood what had been making that unpleasant noise. The walls of the room were made of stone blocks, and they were constantly changing—pushing in and out and sliding to the side. As the stones moved, they noticed the room became just a tad smaller as the walls closed in on them.

  “Damn it,” Violen exclaimed. “Why is it always a game? Why can’t we just fight something and get it over with?”

  Dwade couldn’t disagree with Violen on this one. He’d rather fight the eight-winged lion than be squished by four stone walls. He couldn’t see any way out. The room was now half its original size, and the four of them stood close together, back to back.

  In her peripheral, Shasta caught a glimpse of something purple. “Did you see that?” she asked Dwade.

  He moved over to the wall she was looking at, and as the stone moved, he caught a glimpse of color. “There’s something in here,” he announced to the others.

  They gathered around to look at their only hope of escape, though they weren’t sure what it was or how it was going to help. Out of desperation, as there wasn’t even enough room to walk two paces, Dwade lifted his sword and lodged it between the stones. The blocks momentarily stopped, though the sword trembled against the pressure.

  “Hurry! Grab it,” Shasta yelled urgently.

  Dwade reached his hand into the wall until his whole arm disappeared. He was very aware that if the sword broke and the stones continued to move, he might find himself with one less appendage.

  Just as he thought his arm was too short to reach the object, he felt something near his fingertips, and he strained even harder to grab it. “Got it!” he exclaimed. He swiftly pulled his arm out just as the sword snapped in two and the stone blocks continued their relentless advance. In his hand, he held a violet lotus that gave off a soft glow. They stared at it waiting for it to do something.

  Han asked the question first. “What do we do with it?”

  Dwade looked around to find a keyhole or something that might be for the flower, but unfortunately, there was nothing. He took a closer look at the flower and noticed it had four rows of leaves. He whispered to himself, “Turning, turning, your soul may be sliced in two. Open all four of them and wisdom is your due.” A sudden urge came over him, and he curled his fingers forcefully over the flower, crushing it. The others exclaimed in horror, terrified he destroyed their only way out, but as he opened his hand, a black fog appeared where the flower had been. The walls retreated as the fog swallowed Dwade, veiling him from the others. The Readers called out to him, but their voices were muffled.

  Knowing there was no other way, Violen jumped into the fog after him, and it swallowed her too, leaving Shasta and Han no other option but to do the same. They ran into the fog eyes closed, Han hugging Shasta close to him.

  When Shasta and Han opened their eyes, they found themselves in a sticky, silk cocoon hanging from a tall tree. Panic set in as they attempted to free themselves, but the cocoon kept them immobile.

  “Dwade? Violen?” Shasta called out.

  “We’re here,” Violen replied, sounding close.

  Violen and Dwade had landed in a mucky marsh and were attempting to wipe the slime off their clothes. They located Shasta and Han by following their voices. The tree they hung from was of average height, but what wasn’t average were the hundreds of cocoons that hung from its branches. Dwade pointed to one of the great wads of silk, and Violen saw someone else had been wrapped in a cocoon, but the body was no longer moving, and a skeletal hand protruded from the folds.

  Violen tried not to sound alarmed. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Try moving around! See if you can shake the cocoon loose.” The cocoon holding their friends shook as Shasta and Han tried to detach the wad from its branch, but the more they moved, the tighter the silk wrapped around their bodies as if to crush them. “Stop, Stop!” Violen shouted as she noticed what was happening. “We’ll come to you.” She ran up to the base of the tree. “Dwade, give me a boost.”

  Dwade dropped his bow and arrows on the grass and lifted her up to the nearest branch as Violen pulled herself up. She then reached out her hand to help Dwade onto the first branch. They continued this process until they were halfway to Shasta and Han’s cocoon.

  “Almost there!” Dwade called just before Violen let out a scream. The once dormant tree had now come to life, and a limb wrapped around Violen’s ankle. Dwade cursed as he realized he no longer had a sword and reached for his knife. A branch shot up from his left and made a deep cut in his arm.

  Violen fought in vain as the tree gripped her tightly and continued its assault on Dwade. She reached down to her hilt and pulled out her sword as another branch flew her way. She hacked at the one holding her ankle, and after three strikes, it severed. Now free, she scurried her way up the tree and managed to reach the cocoon while Dwade kept their assailant preoccupied.

  Down below, Dwade fought off four limbs that slithered around him like snakes. Something sliced his cheek, and he reached up to feel blood dripping down his face. The leaves had dislodged themselves from their stems and came hurtling toward him. He covered his face with his arms as their razor-sharp edges sliced his skin and Violen’s cloak. Hacking at the branches, he made a lunge for Violen.

  “I’m here!” Violen reassured Han and Shasta. She started sawing the threads of the cocoon with her sword, but it wasn’t cutting. She watched as Dwade climbed closer. “It won’t cut!”

  He thought for a moment as he continued to climb, the deadly leaves quickly catching up with him. “Hold on. I have an idea.” He pulled himself up to Violen’s side. “This isn’t silk.” He said after examining the white threads and tried to pull them apart with no success. Violen took out the small metal plate she’d taken from Kajleh’s weapon stash. She put it to her mouth and blew. Tiny needles flew out from the weapon and embedded themselves in the tree’s bark. The whole tree trembled and shook, forcing Violen and Dwade to hold on tight to the tree or else they would have been thrown to the ground.

  “What did you do?” Dwade shouted.

  “It’s a poison. It should slow the tree down,” she answered. The assaulting branches retreated for a moment as the poison kicked in, rushing along its trunk and limbs. “We can’t get them out unless we cut this cocoon loose,” she said, hoping she bought them enough time to figure something out. But the more they fiddled with the cocoon, the smaller it became, and they could no longer hear Shasta’s and Han’s screams.

  “Watch out. Here they come!” The leaves had followed Dwade up to the cocoon and zoomed toward them at full speed. Dwade used his body to shield Violen as he reached for one of the leaves. They were difficult to catch, and he received multiple cuts before he was able to snatch one from the air. He took the leaf, which was much heavier than he expected, and cut fervently away at the thick thread that attached the cocoon to the branch.

  Violen gave an excited yell, socking him in the shoulder. “You’re a genius! It’s working.”

  The leaf cut through the strand rapidly, and it fell from the tree, hitting the ground with a loud thud. Just like a raw egg, it cracked open upon impact, expelling its unconscious victims. Dwade and Violen leaped from the tree, using the strange egg sack as a cushion. Quickly Dwade lifted Han’s body onto his shoulder, and Violen picked up Shasta in her arms. The tree had halted its attack, though a few leaves still managed to strike them, and the four of them were left to find their way ou
t of the hellish forest.

  After only a few minutes of walking, the forest faded as a dense fog took its place. They found themselves in a garden full of white lotuses with a large cherry tree in full blossom. Zeorgan sat under the tree with his dragon curled up behind him. Though Violen was simply relieved they had made it out of the dreaded temple, Dwade was furious and stormed toward Zeorgan.

  “I think you owe us an explanation, old man,” he snapped as he dropped Han a bit ungracefully to the ground. Violen was a bit gentler with Shasta.

  Zeorgan continued smiling sweetly even as Dwade’s temper flared. “Welcome, friends. Why such harsh words? It’s not as though I could have led you through, and I warned you the tests are dangerous, even fatal. Those who cannot pass the test of intentions can’t enter this land. I didn’t make the rules. But I am glad you made it through.” He turned his attention to his fingers as if the dirt under his nails was more interesting than the current conversation.

  Although Dwade was still angry, he couldn’t come up with a satisfactory comeback. They had entered the maze and temple of their own free will, and the Zaend had never forced them to do anything. They didn’t even invite them. It was obvious they were not interested in the Protector or the Visionary Reader.

  “What are we supposed to do about Shasta and Han?” The two had still not woken up, and Violen was beginning to worry.

  “No problem. Set them down here.” They picked up their friends and moved their comatose bodies on the ground next to the tree. Zeorgan picked two lotuses and squeezed them into Han’s and then Shasta’s mouths. The strong odor of the flower-filled the air, and their eyes opened.

  “Welcome back,” Dwade said with a laugh.

  Han held his head as it throbbed painfully. “What happened?”

  Violen and Dwade looked at each other amused. “You took a bit of a tumble,” Dwade said with a smirk. Violen laughed, and her eyes glimmered. It was the most beautiful Dwade had ever seen her, or maybe everything looked beautiful since he almost died five times over.