I ran.
The floor dropped away beneath my feet, and for one terrifying second, I was airborne with nothing but faith and momentum carrying me forward. My stomach lurched hard enough that I was sure I’d misjudged it.
Arthur caught me around the waist as my boots hit stone, absorbing the impact with his own body, his grip firm enough to keep me upright without crushing me. The tile held. No sound. No movement. Just solid stone beneath us.
I let out a breath.
His hands lingered for a beat longer than necessary, like he was confirming I was real and safe before easing back.
We didn’t look at each other right away.
But the air between us felt charged, tight with adrenaline and trust and the knowledge that I had jumped because I believed he would be there.
And he had been.
“By all means,” Hadrian said, gesturing toward the next section of the corridor. “Don’t stop now. I’d hate to lose our most… enlightening guide.”
The words were polite. The implication was not.
The secondsection waited.
The murals were more emotive. A dragon in flight, wings spread wide. Chains breaking apart. A funeral scene where a figure rose upward, arms lifted, light carved into the stone above them.
“That one,”Arthur thought. “Freedom.”
“Yes. The absence of restraint. The rest are depicting shackles.”
The tiles reflected that tension. Some showed broken symbols, incomplete circles. Others depicted doors half-open. I tested another unsafe tile with a shard.
The arrows answered immediately.
Arthur adjusted, scanning again.
He jumped first to the freedom tile. Nothing happened when he landed.
“Are you seeing this?” Hadrian said behind us. He didn’t sound impressed so much as intent. “Watch their feet. Follow along on their exact tiles.”
One of his remaining men swallowed audibly.
Arthur looked back at me, not rushing me, just there. Waiting. Ready to catch me.
I ran.
The distance vanished under my feet, the drop beneath me yawning wide for a heartbeat that stretched too long. My breath locked in my chest until my boots struck the same tile and held.
I didn’t look back.
By the time we reached the third section, my nerves weresinging. Fear and exhilaration tangled together so tightly I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
This one felt… communal.
Two hands clasped together. A village scene carved in layers. An ancient world map with currents drawn like veins, continents connected by flow instead of borders.
Unity.
This time I didn’t hesitate. “That one,” I said, pointing to the circular symbol at the center.
Arthur didn’t argue. He jumped.
