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My mouth open and closes. I'm too nauseous to attempt making my point at first. "A handful of crazies doesn't define my entire race—just like I wouldn't judge all demis simply because you are a raving bitch."
Even as I say the word, I wonder how true they are.
I certainly don't open up to demis easily, and I'm reluctant to accept magiks because her kind has taken advantage of mine for centuries.
What would I be like if a demi had killed everyone I loved, and right in front of me? If what she says is true, Zale witnessed his family's demise. He lived through it and somehow survived.
I have a thousand questions I can't ask, and the details were never released to the public. I would have remembered the poor boy who lived through the horrors who broke the rest of his line.
I remember everything, but this would have stayed anchored at the forefront of my mind.
I used to think his past didn't even begin to justify his prejudice, but now, I'm not so sure. I didn't imagine anything so grim and violent.
Before anyone can think of another word to throw at one another, the red doors swing wide with a plaintive wail, opening the entrance of the maze.
Beyond the doors, two tall brushed silver walls stand proudly, some ten yards apart, and I can't see anything on the horizon, other than blinding light.
It makes no sense. It's the middle of the night, on the twenty-eighth hour, and I know for a fact the sky ought to be dark, but this place feels like a warm, sunny afternoon in my city.
We walk together as one, wordlessly, Adelaid leading our procession.
I purposely take my time, falling toward back. My dress brushes the sanded floor, and I wince at the thought of damaging the silk, so I bend down, gather the edges in my hand, and tie them at my hip, revealing the length of my left leg, but I doubt any of the girls will mind seeing a little skin.
When my gaze lifts forward again, they've all disappeared, and instead of a large, nondescript alley surrounded by strange wall, I'm standing in Glitter Lane. Or rather, what Glitter Lane would have looked like, scrubbed clean and void of all merchants, all inhabitants.
“Is there anything dangerous in there?”
“Only your mind.”
This can't be good.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
WAKING NIGHTMARES
In all my years as king, never have I pleased the court as much as I did by reopening the maze. With very little alcohol, and no other entertainment, my subjects are delighted, gleefully squirming and pointing and screaming at the girls making their way into their deepest fears, their sorrowful memories, and worst of all, their hidden desires.
The Balfur girl lasts fifteen minutes at most, barely making it out of the first path, but she's too sweet for these games. She screams my name, and I send the royal guard to retrieve her.
They follow each girl, walking through the walls, so her rescue's almost immediate.
I've instructed them to take their time during Helyn's turn. They can take a coffee break, maybe make a sandwich before getting her out.
My eyes stay glued to the redhead as she bends to lift her skirts, to the delight of the folk of my court cheering her on. She's barely showing any skin, but they gawk all the same.
Done with her gown, she walks slowly, carefully, while I watch Adelaid wail and run wildly, glancing behind her shoulder then screaming at the top of her lungs.
I wonder what Helyn sees. I wonder why she isn't fighting it.
Nomena Dayn crawls on all fours, knocking the sanded ground every now and then.
Seven of them make it out of the first alley, two turning right, and five left.
There isn't a right or wrong path through the maze, as there are four entrances, but all paths lead to the center of the maze first.
Helyn has chosen to turn right. She's still slow and careful, but not nearly as affected as the rest of them, to my frustration.
She was supposed to be out already. She should be screaming like Adelaid, or peeing herself like the baron's daughter who begs off next.
