Page 25 of What Beats Within the Tunnels

How does this have anything to do with my magic? I start to jog, trying not to get distracted by the visions rapidly playing all around me. I can feel my heart rate increasing. If I keep moving, I will find the way out eventually. I turn a corner and smack into a dead end.

The wall feels like hard jelly, and the image of Luke’s throat being torn open distorts when I make contact. No, no, no, I shake my head as I swallow down the lump in my throat. I blocked these things out, buried them. I turn back the way I came then go down a different hall, running now as the images around me blur together as a rainbow of bright lights.

I hit another dead end, and suddenly all the halls surround me with the same image playing. The trees are bleeding, and the grass underfoot has turned to blood. It crinkles with every step as I run. “Something’s coming, Lyra.”

A whisper travels on the wind in a voice I don’t recognize, but it sends a chill down my spine that gets my feet moving faster. The path is so long, the end of the hall barely visible, and the images of bleeding trees all around are disorienting. I feel like I’m going to smack face-first into another wall if I don’t slow down. Piercing blue eyes catch my attention, and I turn my head to the right. My toe hits the ground, and I stumble then try to regain my balance, but it’s too late. I put my hands out, reaching for anything, then I slam into the ground hard.

I roll onto my back, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to gulp down air. I open my eyes, blinking rapidly at the trees. I no longer see bark, but the trees are covered in moving pictures now too, just like the walls. The bleeding forest is gone, and Aidan surrounds me, a different image of him plays in every direction I look. I jump to my feet, and his voice makes me cringe.

“You like when I fuck you like this, don’t you?”

Tears start running freely down my face. “No!” I scream, turning down another path, and clasping my hands over my ears. “Cheeks, where are you, Cheeks?”

“Stop. Stop now!” I scream as the sound of his voice grows louder. I fall to my knees, closing my eyes and clamping down on my ears harder. I can’t bear to see anymore. I can’t take it. Breathe. I focus on that one word and repeat it again and again in my head slower and slower until I match my breathing with the pace of the word.

I am not alone here. This is not real. You are rational, Lyra, so get it together and think about this logically. What is happening? The labyrinth is shaped by my thoughts, my emotions. This is no ordinary trial. It’s a journey into the core of my being, and it is trying to break me.

This maze is more than a test of navigation; it’s a test of controlling my inner world. My thoughts, my memories, and my emotions are the forces that shape this reality. The challenge here is not about finding the right path out but rather finding the right state of mind. I must breathe. I inhale a long slow breath through my nose, hold it in for several seconds, then exhale a long slow breath out my mouth.

I can feel my pulse slow, and I take my hands away from my ears, wiping the lingering tears away. I am strong, I am powerful, and nothing will break me. I slowly build the wall back up around my heart and bury everything that threatens to undo me. Then I open my eyes. The images around me have slowed, and I see Chepi belly crawling across my old bed in Tempest Moon and Lili helping me give Chepi a bath. I smile as I get to my feet. The walls melt away until darkness envelopes me once again, leaving me weightless.

The brightness causes me to slam my eyes shut as I fall back out of the veil, and Colton catches me before I hit the ground. I look up at him and think I see something akin to regret on his face as he helps me to my feet.

“That’s enough for today. This was only an emotional test, Lyra, and it took you far too long to get control of yourself,” my father says, looking me over.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Colton retorts quickly.

“It will only get harder from here, so I suggest you get a grip and start coming to terms with some things you may be afraid to face. I’ll take you back to the palace for now.” He clasps a hand on my wrist and one on Colton’s shoulder. Chepi jumps in my arms, and the icy wind picks up with the fog.

“Ready to talk about it?” Colton poses the question from his seat at the table in our shared bedroom shortly after channeling back to the palace.

“There’s nothing to discuss,” I retort, my footfalls echoing in the room as I pace restlessly.

“Clearly,” he counters, a touch of sarcasm in his tone. “Looks like you’re totally fine, nothing on your mind.”

I huff, frustration leaking from my every pore. “I’m livid with myself,” I admit, collapsing into the opposing chair with a groan.

Colton arches an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his face as he watches me squirm. “Please, do continue to take it out on the furniture.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” I roll my eyes and slump further into my chair, expelling a heavy sigh.

Colton retrieves two glasses from the drink cart and returns, handing me both. Water in one hand and whiskey in the other. I set the water aside, downing the shot of whiskey with a determined gulp.

“So, it’s going to be that sort of night then?” He flashes a wry grin, grabbing the decanter of whiskey and setting it between us, refilling both glasses.

“I embarrassed myself today, Colton. I’m stronger than what I showed. I let upsetting memories unravel me. What if it had been a real test? How am I to control my dark magic, to stop it from controlling me, when I can’t even handle my own emotions?” I run a hand through my hair, detangling the knots in my waves with frustration. “I am better than this. I cannot, will not, fail.”

“Lyra,” he interrupts, catching my hand mid-tug, stopping my hair-pulling antics. His gaze is intense, serious. “I happen to enjoy looking at your hair. Please stop tormenting it.”

I huff, dropping my hand back into my lap. “I’m not tormenting it. It’s just tangled—”

He cuts me off. “Leave it. Let’s talk about what’s really bothering you.”

My heart sinks. “How much of today’s events in the maze were you able to see?”

His answer is soft, understanding. “Everything.”

“Great,” I mutter, embarrassment flushing my cheeks.