Labyrinth Wall (9780991531219) (21 page)

A few minutes pass as the group attempts to regain composure and mourn the departed. All of the sweating has brought on dehydration that feels like cotton in my mouth. Cold water helps wash the dryness from my throat. It’s more liquid than my body typically consumes in an entire day.

Lying back down to relax proves difficult to do. Closing my eyes to find a little peace for a brief moment, I’m disrupted by Soll shouting.

“Why do you keep looking at that?” he interrogates Rase.

“I glanced at it. That’s all!” she defends.

“More like stared, eyes begging for it,” Soll retorts.

“What are you talking about?” I question.

“She keeps looking at that thing.” He points at the huge spike, which Korun dropped on the ground near the Buyu’s head when he pulled Soll to safety. “What do you want with it?” he demands of Rase.

“Nothing, really, I promise,” she defends.

Of course Rase is up to something. There’s no hesitation believing Soll over her.

“Grab it for me,” I tell Soll.

Rase narrows her eyes as he approaches it.

“Here.” He hands it to me.

“So, what aren’t you telling us Rase?” I inspect the shiny black object. It stands about a foot tall in a conical shape, its skinny end tapering at a slight angle. Dank souring smells rise from the bloody large bone and flesh within it.

She shakes her head.

“I guess in that case, you won’t care if I hold on to this,” I threaten. Emptying one tote, I make room for the disgusting item. Hopefully the bag will conceal its scent.

She doesn’t have anything more to say about it, but she’s clearly irritated. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes narrow again.

Korun approaches us now, his arms full of our weapons he scavenged from the dead serpent’s body.

My arrows are now reloaded into my quiver and the crossbow strapped to my back. Like a decoration, my dagger is still positioned in my hair. I’m ready to get going. Saige straps the spears on her back. Soll sheaths his bloody swords.

Before the Buyu attack, it seemed like maybe we were in the clear. Obviously, that was a premature assumption. How such hopeful thoughts prevail is a mystery. If Rifan were still here, I would have someone to commiserate with. He was the only one of us realistic enough to admit there would be more disaster before, if ever, we reach the wall.

“All right, the day is getting away from us. We’re behind schedule, weak and tired from the fight. I say we try to reach the hideout you spoke of and consider resting for a couple hours before making our dash for the wall,” Soll suggests.

“You’re right,” I agree. “Come on, everyone.”

Soll, Saige, Keelie, Laon, Korun, Rase, and I start back down the labyrinth path, headed for Blue. We leave Rifan’s body with the Buyu.

“So, you said the legend spoke of twin Buyu.” It feels appropriate to rekindle the earlier conversation with Rase. “Where is the other one?”

“I really don’t know,” she tells me. “The legend says they don’t get along, so I would guess it isn’t nearby. I had no idea what lengths Simul would go to in the event of a segment breach.”

“Segment breach?” I question.

“I’ve said too much,” Rase backtracks. “I’m sorry you don’t like us, but that doesn’t change what you are.”

“What I am? A Mahk. Something your people created.”

“You are failures,” she retorts, “humanity gone wrong.”

“You must really believe that to make us live in this barren labyrinth and starve us to death. And if that’s true, then why are you continuing to create us? Is every Mahk batch a test and then you’re too ashamed to kill us when we don’t turn out like you want, so you force us to kill each other instead?”

She looks down at her feet as she walks.

Before our time together is over, I’m going to make that woman explain more to me, but for the moment, the subject gets dropped.

Segment breach insinuates many things. Clearly, a segment implies its only part of a whole. Do they define the castle break-in as the segment breach within the whole of the labyrinth? I also remember my encounter with the one-handed man. He told me to request a transfer. In the middle of the chaos, it flew through my ears and missed my brain. A transfer where? The ugly truth is the guards did chase Korun through that wall. There could be many more Creators on the other side than the ones we deal with in the labyrinth. My lungs tighten the flow of air within me at the thought. Despite the risks of getting to the other side, I’m reminded of the dangers within the labyrinth as the dried lava crunches under my feet.

Rifan’s painful death replays in my head at the thought of the terror Simul is unleashing within the labyrinth. The silence as we walk is haunting. The others might have had a disliking for Rifan’s dark side, but I appreciated him. His loss hits me so differently than that of other Mahk. Guilt sweeps over me looking at Saige, Soll, Keelie, and Laon.

This whole mess is my fault to begin with, and now Rifan is dead because I’m leading them to the wall. The wall that they believe offers refuge. In reality, it may or may not. The closer we get, I’m beginning to fear it may hold even more trouble for us. It must offer a better place though. Korun came from the place on the other side of the wall and that alone is a sign of hope. It’s a fact other people are there, people like Korun, even if the Creators are there too. Based on the interaction Korun had with the guards before they caught him, his people most likely don’t get along with the Creators. Once we find them, even if they didn’t have problems with the Creators before, they will when they learn of all the people dressed in white down in the Creators’ prison.

Resolved to get us to the wall, I narrow my focus to our route. We walk under the upper branches of a tree. Its base that once resembled a thick, dark braid is now swallowed beneath the lava. Now that we passed the snake pit, we aren’t too far from the acid river where we usually collect obsidian. That will be the toughest spot to cross, because it forces us to emerge from the labyrinth walls for a short time. The lava may have covered the acid river all together. Whatever the case, we’ll deal with that challenge when we get to it.

Korun walks up beside me. “You know, it’s okay to be sad,” he whispers in my ear.

“What do you mean?” My arms wrap around myself as if he’s tried to touch me.

“I mean, I know you have trust problems and I understand why. But I know you cared on some level about Rifan. You don’t always have to pretend like nothing fazes you.”

Though his gaze begs for my attention, I refuse to make eye contact. “Maybe nothing fazes me,” I tell him.

“I don’t think that’s true,” he replies.

“I spent two years running from the Creators and other Mahk. What makes you think a few days of interaction is going to change that? You don’t even know these people. For all we know, they’re as selfish as the other Mahk and only banding together for survival. When we get to the other side of that wall, don’t be surprised if they all turn on each other,” I spout.

“You don’t really think that. You know they can be trusted, but you don’t trust yourself.” The skin of his finger grazes my arm affectionately.

He’s grating on my nerves now. He even reminds me a little of Darith, but Korun’s remarks are more irritating because he probably thinks he’s a better person than me. At least Darith never judged me.

“Look, I appreciate your efforts, but I don’t need you dissecting my every emotion. I know what I’m doing. I know who I am. I know who I can and can’t trust. I’ve survived in a cutthroat world for two years and done fine. So don’t lecture me.”

“At this point, if you don’t trust these people…” He pauses. “If you don’t trust me, then you’re beyond help.”

“Help? Is that what this is all about, Korun? Am I some project for you to fix?” I shake my head. “I don’t need fixing. I’m doing fine.”

“I don’t even want to be around to see your expression when you realize that’s not true,” he retorts.

Arguing isn’t getting us anywhere. He’s distracting me from leading the group to the river. Pursing my lips, I’m resolved to end the discussion.

“You’re so stubborn,” he grumbles as he lessens his pace, allowing me to walk ahead of him.

Everyone keeps telling me I’m stubborn and need to change my attitude, but they don’t understand their opinions aren’t of value. One foot in front of the other, I put the argument behind me and push on.

Chapter 22
Death in the River

Luckily, we don’t encounter any lava or another Buyu on the way to the river and we make good time. As we draw near to the familiar location, memories of days spent on the bank of the acid river blink through my mind. Usually the place would be lined with Mahk, scrounging for obsidian. All of us spent so many hot days, searching the river bank, digging until our fingers had sores. Compared to our current circumstances, a part of me actually misses those days.

Approaching the stinging liquid, we lessen our pace. Taking cautionary steps, we try not to loudly crack the cooled lava we travel on. Peeking my head around the corner, I survey the area. The river runs over a hill, so the lava merely dried beside it, elevating the level of the ground.

The surrounding area looks clear. Not even one guard is in sight. The expanse is so quiet, it’s a bit unsettling.

“Where are the Creators?” I whisper.

Soll’s hand clings tightly to his weapon. “Their absence would make me feel better were it not an indication of another labyrinth attack.”

“They could be dealing with Mahk elsewhere, you know?” Keelie offers a less pessimistic suggestion.

Everyone collects into a circle.

“We’re going to have to make this really fast,” I say. “It looks like the guards are off taking care of something else, but they could be back any minute. For that matter, they could be in hiding, waiting for someone to cross. We should probably take turns. If there’s someone watching, they’re less likely to spot one quick dash at a time, than a whole group at once.”

No one objects to my statement.

“I’ll go first,” I offer, looking across the expanse.

“I can” offers Korun.

“No, I know exactly where to go from here, so follow me.”

The realization that I’ve volunteered myself for an incredibly dangerous role as the first to go across sets in. The air seems to thin, and I wonder if the way I’m feeling is anything like suffocation.

My gaze visits Rase then Soll. “If she tries to slow me down, use one of my arrows and take her out,” I instruct. “She’s only of use to us if she cooperates.”

He grabs the crossbow which I hand over to him. “I won’t hesitate,” he agrees.

“Let’s go.” I yank at the rope on Rase’s wrists.

We dash out into the open space then up the slope. Surprisingly, she keeps pace with me, choosing not to cause problems. Our threats are keeping her in line.

It only takes about ten minutes from the time we leave the group to cross the bridge and enter the correct labyrinth passage. Air scarcely enters my tired lungs as we leave the open space. When we reach the safety of the walls, I whip around to observe the progress of the others.

Keelie’s coming next. She crosses even quicker than we had. She’s a speedy little thing. After she makes it to us safely, Saige goes next, then Laon. Korun comes across after that.

So far, it appears no Creators are keeping watch by the river at all. If we get lucky, they may think all the Mahk are dead, so they’ve let up on the labyrinth attacks.

Soll is the last to dash across. Watching the muscular man try to be sneaky is a bit amusing. Just as he comes within about twenty feet of us, we hear shouting down the way.

He jumps at the sound.

“Faster,” Keelie calls quietly to him.

Glancing around the corner, we see three guards emerge from the labyrinth walls about half a mile down the bank. There’s no mistaking them for Mahk in their nice maroon jackets and charcoal colored pants. Soll’s still in the open for a moment, but the guards are preoccupied.

“Shut up, scum,” they yell.

Two of them drag a man wearing shredded garb in chains behind them, and the third follows. It’s hard to discern his physical details beneath the thick heavy chains strapped around him.

“Grol and Simul feel you’ve served your time adequately, so now your time’s up!” the tall one spits on the prisoner as he talks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the captive pleads. For a fairly slender man, there’s an unusual amount of chains wrapped around him. He doesn’t look dangerous at all, so why so much precaution? He’s covered in dirt. Deep purple bruises on his face and neck indicate he has clearly taken a beating.

“You wouldn’t. That’s okay though. The segment breach means it’s time to get rid of you. No reason to let you sit around in the prison anymore when we can be rid of you,” the brown-haired guard remarks. “Grol thought he could eventually get a confession out of you, but I never needed one to know the truth.”

“Find some peace knowing the world is about to be a better place without you,” the female guard adds, who trails behind the other two.