Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
My feet finally on the floor once more, I rubbed my palms on my tunic to wipe away the dust and guano.
I then called to my power again.
I supposed I should be relieved that the labyrinth wasn’t instead a maze. If there was more than one path to follow, I would get lost down here for certain, and no one would ever see me again.
The ground began to tremble once more. Ugh. I flattened my back against the wall. The quake was harder this time, making my body tremor and my teeth clatter.
Stone scraped stone as a statue rubbed and heaved against another. A nearby coffin tumbled to the floor, the lid burst open, and something clattered to the ground.
I froze, staring down at a skeleton covered in rags. Little worms were sliding through the holes in its skull. A prop. It was just a prop, I told my churning stomach.
Once the quake passed, I started walking again, moved as fast as I dared. I felt the tickle of warm, wet trails drizzling down my face. Not sweat, blood. I ignored it, focusing on listening for sounds that I was being pursued. Still, I heard nothing. It seemed—
My foot caught on something, and there was a slight wrench in my ankle as I tumbled forwards. My sparks of moonlight popped out of existence as my palms slammed to the floor. Fuuuuuck.
Gritting my teeth through the throbbing pain, I conjured another small shower of moonlight and peered behind me. A fissure. There was a fissure in the ground, and the toe of my boot was wedged in it.
It took some awkward fumbling before I’d pulled it free. That my ankle was smarting like a mother was not a good sign. I gingerly tested it when I pushed to my feet. Pain zipped up my calf, but it wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. I’d trekked through the Pines in worse pain than this.
I realized that pretty much everything I’d encountered during my treks throughout the last forty days had prepared me for the wonders of the labyrinth—well, prepared me as much as possible. I wasn’t sure anyone could truly be mentally primed to face these caverns.
Though it didn’t hurt too bad, I pretty much hobbled my way down the passage in an attempt to not put too much weight on my sore ankle—I’d learned from my treks that strains healed faster that way, and my enhanced healing should make it happen even quicker.
Many of my earlier wounds were likely almost fully healed at this point. I just kept gaining new ones, unfortunately.
The ground bucked again minutes later. I staggered into the wall, wincing as my hip banged into a fist of stone. Mother—
Right now, I really wanted to punch someone. I didn’t even care who. Though I would prefer it to be whoever had created the labyrinth, or the Sovereigns for possibly sending a little boy down here.
Again grateful that I hadn’t bumped the burned side of my body, I walked on. Well, hobbled. I dodged more obstacles, ducked under dips in the ceiling, and braced myself against more ground tremors.
I halted when I came upon a huge and very deep trench. Peering over the edge, I swallowed hard. At the bottom was a bed of spikes.
Yes, spikes.
There was a way to cross the trench, of course. Not a bridge or spires or ledges this time, though. A long, iron tube rested above the middle of the trench and spanned its entire length. A tube big enough for a person to fit in, but not big enough for them to crawl through. I’d have to lie flat on my stomach and shuffle my way along it using my elbows, knees, and toes.
How perfect.
Well, it could be worse. Right?
Hunching my shoulders, I squeezed my way into the tunnel, pausing only when the entire front of my body was pressed against the bottom of it.
I edged forward on my elbows—
The tunnel moved. Skidded to the left. Rolled.
Terror clattered in my system as I tumbled and slid and bashed against the inside of the tunnel. It stopped on hitting the wall, and I crashed onto my belly, almost banging my chin.
Breathing hard, I blinked. Several parts of me ached and pulsed from having been tossed all over the place. I’d earlier had the thought that this obstacle could be worse. It was worse.
Okay, maybe if I inched forward very, very slowly it would stay still.
I inched forward very, very slowly.
It didn’t stay still.
It rolled again—making me skid, lurch, and flop—not stopping until it made contact with the other wall.
Anger gripped my gut. How the hell was I supposed to reach the end of the tunnel if it rolled every time I moved?
With great difficulty. That was how.
Scrapping the inching-slowly-forward plan, I shoved myself as far along the tube as possible before it could start spinning. Again and again, I repeated the move, creeping closer and closer to the end. I occasionally had to pause, since the entire thing shook whenever a quake came along. Not fun.