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I nearly fell over as I leaned too far around the tree. “What are you talking about?”
He tilted his head and stared at me. The mist circled him like a tornado, obscuring his features in a bright whirlwind.
“I’m not doing that,” I said, staring at the vortex around him.
A frown formed behind his scruffy beard. “Is that right?” His tone told me he thought I was lying. “I can tell that you are new here, so I’ll give you just this once. Attack me again, and I’ll treat you like I treat any of the other threats in this place.”
My muscles tensed and I jumped behind the tree once again. “I promise I won’t!” I shouted, hoping he would finally leave me alone. I couldn’t attack him with magic if I tried, but he didn’t need to know that.
I chanced another glance around the tree. He was walking away so silently that he made no noise at all.
A small tremor shook the ground beneath my feet, and I clutched the tree to stop from falling over.
“Oh, no you don’t!” shouted the man as he leaned into a sprint.
At that very moment, a wall burst out of the dirt. The man leaped to clear it, but the rising structure clipped his feet, flipping him into what was likely a nasty spin.
The wall settled into place and I stood there, gaping at the now quiet stone structure. Unless he had catlike landing ability, he was probably in a lot of pain right now.
He’d aimed an arrow at my head. Maybe if he was incapacitated, that meant I was safer. But he had spared me, which meant I didn’t want him to be dead. As I crept toward the wall, I couldn’t stop envisioning him lying on the other side of the wall, paralyzed. The stones were covered in moss and vines as if the wall had been standing right here for decades.
My hands started to itch. Absently, I rubbed them on my dress.
A few steps away, a door materialized in the stone wall. If the man was hurt, maybe I should help him to prove I wasn't a threat to him. I tried the handle. The door pushed open easily, though a loud creak filled the misty forest all around. I froze at the sound, half expecting a monster to crash through the brush nearby.
Nothing moved.
I stepped through the door, leaving it open behind me, and searched the ground for the bearded man.
He lay in a heap by the bottom of the wall. My hands shot to my mouth as I stifled a gasp. He didn’t move when I prodded him with my foot. Or when I shook his shoulder.
One arm was pinned beneath his broad chest, the other stretched out beside him. His mouth was squished open against the dirt, but he was somehow still attractive, if not more so now that he wasn't scowling at me. His bow had fallen off his shoulder, and the quiver had slung all its arrows and was now on the ground near his head, the strap tight under his neck. His face was turning purple. I slipped my fingers under the strap at his chin and pulled it over his head. His skin quickly returned to a normal tone. My fingers itched from where they’d grazed his beard.
There, now I'd helped him.
His massive shoulders rose and fell in tiny, shallow breaths, but otherwise, he didn’t move.
He had a knife hilt poking out under his waist, but when I reached for his hips, I couldn’t even budge him enough to grab the knife.
I shook out my hands, glancing around to see if anyone had seen me grab the man's waist.
The bow would have to do. I gathered the arrows and collected the weapon from where it had fallen in the leaves a few paces away.
Now armed, I gave him one final glance before turning back to the door. I didn’t know anything about the others in this maze, but perhaps I’d meet someone who didn’t want to shoot me. Perhaps then I could ask them about any possible ways to escape.
I felt bad walking away from the blond man, but I didn’t know how else to help him, and I couldn’t risk him waking up and deciding to stab me.
The door in the wall had vanished.
This place truly had no rules.
Without any better ideas, I walked along the wall, at least keeping one side protected from attacks. The vines, now as dormant as normal vines should be, hugged the trees with their little tendrils as if nothing had ever happened. But there was still a tunnel carved through the underbrush where the hog had disappeared.
My chest ached, my hands itched, and my heart throbbed with fear and the acute ache of missing my family. Thoughts of my brothers turned my mind to Silver Creek. If I could find the creek, perhaps I could find a way out.
It was a fool’s dream. This was a maze, after all, built to contain the strongest of mages, intended to crack their magic and their minds. But I couldn’t accept that I was never going home, never going to see my brothers again, never going to get the chance to protect them from this awful place. So I let my hope consume me. I would find Silver Creek, and I would get out.
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