Then something ahead of us moved.
Someone screamed. Could have been me as well. We all jumped back, hearts slamming, mouths wide open,shaking—until we saw the mannequinsdown here,too.
It was one of them that had moved—just its head, a slow mechanical turn toward us. Its jaw dropped open and a voice came out, tinny and distant, like someone speaking through a long pipe.
“Welcome to the Carousel of Faces. Please select your face and take your place in line.”
Sparetime save me, that I didn’t drop dead in those moments meant I never would.
We were by the door through which we’d come, all of us together, pressing against one another—except for March.
He remained there a few feet into the room, looking around, taking in all the mannequins down there—over two dozen, some piled together on the floor, most standing.
“Guys…” someone whispered, I couldn’t tell who.
Then, “Welcome to the Carousel of Faces. Please select your face and take your place in line.”
The voice came again. The same voice, from the same mannequin, its faded colors trying to make it look like a woman with short brown hair and wide blue eyes, wearing a blue uniform.
“It’s a game,” March said, his voice rough, dark, low. Hishead fell back and he looked at the ceiling, at the other mannequins up there. “They’re just part of the game.”
Game.
My mind echoed his words. All of it was just a game.
“It’s automatic,” Cook said, and he stepped away from us, closer to March, though his voice wasn’t entirely steady. “Just a mechanism, that’s all. They’re just wood.”
“This place isfreaking me out,” Levana hissed. “Can somebody explain to me why all thesegamesexist when obviously nobody’s playing them?!” Her voice was high pitched, her panic evident.
“It’s the Labyrinth,” Cook said, shaking his head. “Nobody really knows how the Labyrinth works.”
True. All I’d ever been able to find before applying for the Trials was that the Labyrinth was a mystery to everyone, even the people who took care of it.
“C’mon, let’s get going,” March said, eyes on me when he held up his hand.
I practically ran to grab it.
We moved through the room quickly, stepping around the mannequins, trying not to brush against their outstretched wooden hands. The same one with the wide blue eyes said the same words when we went closer, as if it could sense movement. Still just as creepy as the first time—the greeting, the dead voice, the frozen smile.
Seth, who was closest to it, still jumped and swore under his breath, walked faster.
But the next room was worse.
It was long and narrow, and the walls were lined with glass cases, floor to ceiling, each one lit from within by a faint golden light.
Inside the cases were flowers. Not real ones—they were made of silk and wire and something that shimmered like liquid. Absolutelybreathtakingas they were terrifying.Pieces of art—very strange art. Roses and lilies and orchids in colors I’d never seen in nature, deep blues and silvers, and a black so dark it seemed to absorb all the light around it.
“Okay, Ireallywant to get out of this place now…” whispered Anika as we slowly went through, not entirely sure what to expect, but there was another half open door on the other side, so we made for it.
Until…
“Are you here to play or are you here to cry?” said the black orchid in the case nearest to me, and its silk petals moved like lips.
I froze. My jaw fell open. I almost let go of the seeker and March’s hand.
“We get both, you know. Mostly the second.”
I couldn’t fucking breathe.
