The guards would say there is no clear path, but a thousand instead. An infinite number of ways to move through these walls. And when I asked how they found the dead if there was no one way to search the cells, they told me the prison knows.
It showed them.
Like how it opens something wide in front of me now, guiding me to a corridor that stretches with every blink. On either side are tall obsidian walls, etched in runes, spelling the prison to ensure Fae can only leave upon their death.
Even if I’m human and the spells mean nothing to me, Ifeelthe weight of these marks. The heaviness in the stale, endless tunnels. The prison presses from all around, and I understand why sometimes humans don’t make it out. Not because of themarkings, but because the prison has a mind of its own, and it refuses to let them go.
What if that’s why I’m here?
It wantedme.
“We can’t follow her. We’ll get trapped inside.”
“We have no choice. You saw what she did. The snow melted.”
It did melt, but that had nothing to do with me. Are the rebels that desperate for magic that they’ll chase a human girl into a prison they’ll never escape in search of any drop of hope they find on this desolate island?
My tongue turns to sand at the thought. At the sound of boots slapping stone as they follow me inside. They’re already so close.
“This way.”The words tickle my ear, and I spin to see a corridor opening on my left.
There is no light at the end, but there’s no turning back either. So I press my palm to my bleeding side and trudge forward, nearly tripping over a crack in the ground. I should have bled out by now. How am I still standing?
“This way.”Death is whispering louder with every short breath.
It’s fitting, I suppose. To tend to the dead for so many years that I’ve come here to hand my soul over alongside them.
The deeper into the belly of the prison I go, the thicker the air becomes. I’m choking on dust and blood with every inhale. There are no candles. No torches. Still, light flickers against the stone, guiding my way.
The farther I go, the less the walls look like obsidian. Or anything, for that matter.
They become a night sky, pitch black and endless. My fingers reach out, and they meet nothing. No slick edge stopping them. Yet, there’s something there that can’t be crossed. That pushes me to where it wants me to go. Wrapping its belly around me and swallowing.
At the end of a long stretch, I pause at a set of stairs appearing out of nowhere. Maybe I should take my chances with the rebels. Any deeper, and I might never find my way out.
My belly flutters when I glance into the depths of the stairwell, considering turning back. But then my heartbeat flickers. Something tugs me toward it. Begs me to keep going.
Ten stairs turn to hundreds as I wander for what feels like forever. Until I reach a landing at last, stumbling on the first cell I’ve seen since entering. Except, it isn’t a cell like I would have expected based on the human ones in the village. There are no walls or bars or windows. Apart from a thin line of carvings at my feet, there is nothing but a well of empty space with a figure kneeling in the center. His bare back is to me, and his black pants hang low at his waist. Bloody scratches make a mess of his spine, cutting through the gaps between the dark rune markings that decorate his warm bronze skin.
I’ve never seen markings like these on a Fae. They cover him like someone dipped a quill in ink and drew all over his arms and back. The symbols are similar to the ones etched in the prison walls, but different. I can’t read them, but when I squint, I swear they saysomething. And the longer I stare, they start to move.
How is this the first prisoner I’ve seen when I’ve been in this prison so long that my head is light and my feet are aching?
This maze is endless.
The prisoner doesn’t move from where he’s kneeling, but two paths forge on either side of the cell. They split like a river rippling through the prison, offering two directions. The prison wants me to choose one, and yet, I can’t stop staring at the prisoner.
“Why are you here?”I wonder.“What did you do?”
He breathes heavily but doesn’t respond as I watch his shoulders rise and fall. My chest tightens, and I grip my side. Blood seeps through my fingers, and I finally turn my back on the prisoner. But the moment I do, I’mfrozen in place.
The air stirs, and something warm crackles through me. Like lightning striking at a distance, it makes my hair stand on its ends. Somewhere far away, I sense a shift in the clouds. They roll with the start of a storm.
On the ground, the faint line of runes remains, but the prisoner stands directly behind it at my back, pressing as close as the marks allow.
“You’re a curious little human, wandering this far.”
I try to turn and look at him, but I can’t. My feet are frozen to the ground, and my neck won’t move. Every muscle is stiff, as if I’ve been turned to stone. “How are you doing that?”
