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)
Finally, I reached the end of the beam. It would have been a cause for success, except I was clinging to the damn bottom of it, so there was nowhere for me to go unless I somehow switched positions. It would be a gamble, but I had no other choice at this point. It was that or—
The wind bashed into me again.
My legs lost their purchase on the beam, and my slower body dropped. A short cry burst out of me as my heart jumped into my throat. I ended up dangling in the air, clinging to the beam by only my hands.
Shit, shit, shit.
I tried swinging my legs upward to again curl around the iron bar, but I didn’t have the strength. My legs dropped yet again.
And one hand slipped.
I scrambled fast, managing to latch onto the same side of the beam as my other hand. Spotting two icy ledges several inches level with my feet, I worried my chapped lower lip. One shot. I had one shot. If I didn’t make it …
Well, I wasn’t going to think about it.
I inched along the beam without hesitation, knowing I wouldn’t have much time before the wind once again struck. I braced one foot on an icy ledge, relieved when it didn’t crack or shift. Praying my luck continued, I pushed down hard on the ledge as I used my grip on the beam to pull me upwards so that I was able to plant my lower arm on the edge of the crevice.
My pulse out of control, I stuck my other foot on a slightly higher ledge while positioning my free elbow on the beam itself. It took some awkward maneuvering, but I managed to heave myself using both my hands and feet onto safe ground.
Lying there, I scrubbed at my face, my chest rising and falling at a crazy pace. I didn’t want to get up. Even though it was so cold I was shuddering, I didn’t want to rise.
Just one circuit to go, and you’re done.
Forcing myself to stand, I shivered as I stumbled toward the end of the passage. A U-turn later, I pushed through the dangling moss. A heavy silence descended just as a scorching heat washed over me.
Layers of sand covered the ground here. Dead branches peeked through the cracked walls. Cacti, skinny bushes, and thorny shrubs could be seen here and there. Pebbles sporadically peeked out of the sand, small and sharp. Shimmering heat waves rose from the floor, making my view of the passage swim ever so slightly.
The air was just as dry as it had been in the last circuit, only it didn’t have a frosty tang. Instead, it was boiling hot—no exaggeration. I could have toasted bread off the ground, I was sure of it.
My fingers and toes tingled as warmth bled back into them. Spotting a tarantula crawling along the floor, I pulled a face and shook the snow crystals from my clothes and hair. I had the distinct feeling that this circuit was going to be one of my least favorites.
I started to walk, the hot ground heating the soles of my boots to seriously uncomfortable levels. At least my ankle was feeling somewhat better now.
Sand shifted beneath my feet and clung to my boots, causing them to make a loud scraping sound with every step I took.
I couldn’t simply walk straight. There too were many things obstructing my path. Small boulders. Twisting tree roots. Prickly cacti. Thin shrubs. Fallen or dangling branches. As such, I had to do a lot of sidestepping, hopping, dipping, and turning on my side to squeeze past any obstacles clustered together.
I also had to pretend that there weren’t a lot of dead, decaying insects sprawled on their back on the ground. I wasn’t sure what killed them. The heat? Predators? The Minotaur? There was no way to be sure.
A light breeze piped up and whispered over my chapped lips and damp skin. There was nothing cool about the gentle brush of wind but it felt good all the same.
Gods, I’d give a kidney in exchange for a drink right now. My mouth was all dry and sticky, my tongue felt kind of swollen, and my throat ached with both thirst and the discomfort of breathing in the dry air.
Soon enough, I was so hot that I had to shove up my sleeves and roll up the legs of my breeches. I would have shed my tunic all together, but it would be like leaving a trail for the minotaur to follow. If it came upon the garment, it would catch my scent and hunt me.
I took a sharp turn, careful not to trip over a dying shrub. I skidded to a stop as my eyes landed on a big patch of dried blood. Like the last one, it had been smeared by the drag of something large.