What in the blue fuck?
The minotaur released me with a growl, spinning to face the new threat. And itwasa threat—the deadly intent was clear. But I had no idea from whom it came. He apparently gave no fucks, because he emitted a challenging snarl. The breeze instantly became a biting wind that swept him up and slammed him into a wall.
I gaped.Well, ow.
I almost flinched as a flickering ball of bright crackling light formed in the air directly in front of my face. It floated away, jerking from side to side in the air like a butterfly. I glanced at the minotaur, finding him weakly rolling onto his side. My heart hammering, I followed the ball of light—a compulsion I couldn’t explain. And then I saw something. Another doorway embedded into the wall. The ball of light bounced off it and then promptly vanished.
Hearing yet another growl, I peered over my shoulder to see the minotaur pushing to his feet. My skin chilled.Shit.
I made a mad dash for the wall set within the doorframe, my heart hiccupping at the enraged roar that reverberated around the cavern. I rushed right at the wall.
And crashed into something that let out a muffled oath. No, someone.
Light stabbed my eyes, all but blinding me. I squeezed them shut against the onslaught, hissing out a wince. Several things registered at once: the taste of fresh air, the smells of sun-warmed earth and cedar, the feel of strong arms wrapped loosely around me, the ghostly stroke of a cooling breeze.
I lifted my eyelids slightly and found myself looking at Quillen. Outside. I was outside.
“You okay?” he asked as he steadied me.
I tried pivoting to check that the minotaur hadn’t followed, almost falling on my ass in the process. The creature wasn’t there, though.
“Anara?” Quillen pushed.
I blinked hard, my heart still pounding even as relief blew through me. “Yeah, I’m okay,” I croaked. “What are you doing here?”
“A bunch of us came down to help—some have to watch over those who exit while others wait with the candidates who haven’t yet entered.” He pushed a water pouch into my hand.
“How long was I in there?” I asked, opening the pouch. “It felt like forever.” I tipped some water into my mouth, swilled it around, and then spat it on the ground. I hated to waste water right now, but I needed the damn grit out of my mouth.
“Almost three hours,” he replied.
It had felt like longer. I gulped down some of my drink, thinking I’d never tasted anything so amazing.
He eyed me, curious. “Most people cautiously edge their hand out of the wall. You came racing out of it.”
Well, I’d been following a bright light that had saved my ass from the minotaur. Something I was about to share, but then I reconsidered. Because I wasn’t sure the Sovereigns would like to learn such a thing. I could ask Quillen to keep it himself, and he likely would. But it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to keep secrets for me.
“I heard growls somewhere far behind me,” I lied.
“Don’t worry, the minotaur can’t get through the door—it’s closed to him.”
It was a relief, but also kind of sad. I hated to think of anyone trapped in that place.
“Just for future reference, I amneverstepping foot in those caverns again.” I was dead serious.
“You won’t have to. It’s over.” Quillen stepped aside and gestured at the group of candidates gathered on the grassy floor. “Sit with the others and tend to those wounds.”
Fatigue weighing down my every step, I crossed to them as I again drank from my pouch. All were injured, sporting anything from scrapes and bruises to slices and broken bones. They were also as dirty as I was, though they had clean patches of skin where they’d evidently cleaned their wounds as best they could.
The candidates were also all somewhat grim and subdued. I could understand why. While I was proud of myselffor powering through every circuit, I felt no joy—the experience had been too draining, too haunting, too cruelly sadistic.
I caught sight of Lear propped up against a tree, staring at nothing. I made my way to her and—
Fingers curled around my leg. “Did you see Seneca?”
Peering down at Bevan, I swallowed, feeling my expression sober.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as grief tightened his features. “Right.” He released my leg, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes. “Fuck,” he bit out.
