I’d known that the Sovereigns could be cruel, but to send down here those who upset them felt like a whole other level of callousness. And to actuallytrapa person here, a person Minos had first cursed to forever be a mindless beast, seemed beyond evil.
Batting those thoughts aside, I pinned my focus back on the river. It was too wide to be cleared in a single leap. Which meant that I’d have to use the series of wall ledges—they could act as a staircase of sorts.
Skimming my hand over the rough wall for balance, I stepped onto the first ledge. The soles of my boots were slick with mud and slime, so I slowly but carefully moved from one ledge to another. It was—
I slipped on the middle ledge.
I planted my feet firmly to steady myself, a panicked gasp splitting my lips … and my water pouch went toppling into the blood below. I stared down at it. “Fuck.”
Bracing my hand more flush against the wall, I stepped onto the next ledge. And the next. And the next. But when I reached the second to last one, I hesitated to keep moving. Why? Because there was a distinctive crack in the final ledge—I wasn’t sure it would hold under my weight.
Puffing out a mound of air, I judged the distance. I could jump this. Definitely. Maybe.
I breathed deep once, twice, and then leapt.
I landed safely on the other side of the river.
Relieved, I hurried forward just in case the ground decided to disappear beneath me or some crap. I followed a U-turn and reached a curtain of dangling moss that told me I was about the enter the next circuit. I quickly pushed through it, and my surroundings were once again different. No black mildew on the walls now. No, the branches were back.
They were also on fire.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Flames licked at the walls, branches, bushes, statues, and totems. Sooty billows of smoke battered at the arched ceiling. Little fiery sparks and dots of gritty ash danced in the air. A ragged line of fire chewed through the undergrowth and traced along the tree roots protruding from the ground.
More, an oily haze of smoke snaked through the passage. I could see through it, but not very well—its density reminded me of the fog in Reaper’s Pines.
It had been hot in the second circuit, but here? Oh, it was way worse. The heat wasn’t merely oppressive, it was so painfully scorching I wouldn’t be surprised if it gave me blisters.
The air wasso dry. As if it had sucked in all the moisture.It was also heavy with the scents of smoke, ash, and burning wood.
Hoping that the fire wasn’t present throughout the entire circuit, I lifted my tunic to cover my nose and mouth. I knew that it was better to stay low where there was smoke, but I couldn’t possibly crawl through the passage. As such, I’d have to stick with ducking slightly as I walked.
Remembering to breathe only through my nose in cases of smoke, I clamped my lips shut as I started down the passageway, my boots scuffing the layers of ash that coated the ground. Flashes of fire glowed through the haze, effectively lighting the way.
Knowing from my experiences with the Pines that such hazes could conceal a whole lot of dangers, I was careful where I stepped. But I didn’t make any attempt at stealth. It wasn’t necessary to be quiet, since it was already so noisy here.
Fire spat and hissed. Wood creaked and groaned. Burning greenery crisped and crackled.
I couldn’t envision the minotaur spending much time in this circuit. There appeared to be no creatures for him to feed on—at least not that I could see. It was hard to say for certain. My eyes were watering due to the smoke. Personally, though, I didn’t think it likely that any animals or insects had made this circuit their home. It wasn’t exactly a hospitable atmosphere that would allow life to thrive.
My pulse leaped as a shower of sparks abruptly rained down on me. I cursed as burning pinch after burning pinch assailed my exposed skin.
Definitelynot a hospitable atmosphere.
I hurried forward before more sparks could fall, almost tripping over a blackened tree root.Idiot.
Still using one hand to hold the tunic over my nose and mouth, I marched onward. Sweat beaded my forehead and hands, and I wiped my free palm on my breeches. A light breeze blew through the passage but, not one bit cool, it offered no reprieve from the heat.
Able to make out the silhouette of something through the clotted smoke, I squinted. There was no way for me to tell what it was. Not yet. The haze obscured my view too much, and the tears welling in my eyes did not help.
I kept moving—skirting a blazing shrub, hopping over a fallen statue, ducking to avoid a low hanging branch. Soon, I figured out what exactly the silhouette was: a small pile of blazing logs. They blocked my path but weren’t so high that I couldn’t clear them with a well-timed jump.
Hopefully.
I inhaled deeply through my nose—a big mistake, since it made my tunic block my nostrils. Cursing in my head, I righted the material and then leapt. One foot landed on something sharp and bumpy, and I almost fell backontothe logs. More, the right leg of my breeches had caught fire.
I batted at the flaming cloth, hissing as it burned my grazed palm. The fire soon fizzled out, leaving me with blistered skin and scorched breeches. Freaking wonderful.
