PINELIGHTforkindle (23 page)

“How did you do that?” His face was full of questions.

“Well, I…I don’t know how to explain.”

“It was amazing—the mountain just cracked. It…it…parted…It just opened right up for you.” I watched the expression of his face jump around as he looked to me for answers.

“I imagined it to be true, that’s all.” As I spoke, I looked around and was a little surprised myself. To my left and right were cold black walls of stone. We were standing in an opening that was wide enough to be a two-lane highway.

A small fear popped into my mind before I had time to stop it.
What if we get lost inside this mountain?
Immediately, the opening we had entered turned into another stone wall. We were sealed in.

We both looked forward simultaneously. The one path that had been here earlier had turned into a multitude of paths. The mountain had become a labyrinth.

“Oh, Finn—” I moaned. With one quick glance from him, I could tell that he knew what I had done.

“We can’t forget what Fergus told us,” Finn said.

“I know,” I continued. “Don’t let your fears take control, and don’t trust what you see.” I could tell that Finn was pleased that I had paid attention.

“The idea of getting lost just popped into my head,” I confessed. “I couldn’t stop it.”

“I understand—but it is important that we prevent fear from entering our thoughts.”

“That’s easier said than done,” I said as I stared up into the red of the sky.

Finn started to take off down one of the main paths. I followed while curiously scoping out the walls of the maze. We walked several miles in silence before coming to the first split in the path. We decided to go right.

This course took us deeper into the labyrinth, twisting and turning, dividing into more paths the further we walked. The more I worried we wouldn’t make it out, the more the path divided. But then something happened. As I looked up at the walls around us, I saw faces in the stone. There were hundreds—no, thousands—of faces staring back at me from the black stone. I quickly picked up my pace so that I was walking side by side with Finn. I tried my best to forget about the images.
None of it is real,
I told myself. I knew I needed to control my fear, but I could feel it taking control. I dropped my gaze to the ground, hoping to clear my mind, but now the stones on the ground were beginning to form shapes. I was losing it.

“Finn—we’ve got to get out of here, fast.”

But it was too late.

The ground rumbled below us, showering us with loose rocks. More faces formed, gnarling at our feet. High-pitched screams filled the pathway.

“Clara—what’s happening? What are you thinking?” Finn asked.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to stop!”

The walls appeared to move around us. Paths were closing off, one by one—it looked like the mountain was going to close around us. Finn shot one of his questioning looks at me—as if I was the guilty party or something. But it wasn’t me. Not this time, I was sure of it.

“It’s not me! I’m not doing this—what’s going on in your head?”

The ground was still shaking. The rocks were jumping from the ground like Mexican jumping beans. The walls were moving. Howling screams were in the air.

“Clara—listen to me. Whatever happens, you remember the stories. Remember the scripture and the poems, and if things don’t go as planned, you leave and get out of here.” His eyes were piercing as he spoke. “You understand?”

I knew I would never leave him, but I nodded anyway.

All of a sudden, a hot blast of wind blew at our backs—the red sky slowly faded away, while the mountain turned into a dark hallway. I couldn’t see anything. I reached out with my hands and whispered Finn’s name. An eerie feeling came over me as my voice broke the silence. I stood still with my arms still reaching to my front and sides—I could hear only a faint sound of someone breathing in the darkness. Why was he not answering me? I called again—just breathing. I started backing up slowly and reaching again for him, until I bumped into the wall. Finally, I felt the comfort of fingers sliding around my hand. I sighed in relief.

“Finn—this is not the place to be playing games.” There was no response. “Finn?”

I remembered the pendant and quickly slipped my free hand to my neck, then under the chain. When I pulled the pendant over my head and into my hands, the pine needles instantly began to glow. The bright blue shade of light instantly pierced through the darkness. I looked to my other hand and screamed. The fingers that held my hand so tightly were not Finn’s—they were from the wall. I tugged as hard as I could to free myself from the hand, but the grip only tightened. I screamed again.

The wall and the ceilings displayed thousands of gnashing faces and outstretched arms—all clawing at me. I frantically tried to peel the long black fingers away from my skin using the pendant. The light appeared to irritate the skin on the hand, but the grip did not loosen. My efforts seemed useless. Another hand darted out from the wall and grabbed my free wrist. I squeezed the pendant, while both of my hands were yanked toward the wall.

“Finnnnnnn!” I shouted—my plea was loud and piercing.

More hands began to extend from the black wall, grabbing at my clothes and my legs. The dark, twisted faces in the stone growled as I was pulled closer to the wall. My heart was beating faster by the second; my mind was racing different directions.
Where is Finn?

In a swift breeze, a sword flew through the air and sliced the arms that were clenching my hand and wrist. My hands were free from the wall, but the disconnected hands were still holding on. I quickly yanked them off and hurled them to the ground. The long, bony arms evaporated into the black of the floor. In another swing, the metal slashed off the fingers that clinched my clothes. One by one the fingers plopped to the ground and disappeared like the arms before them. In the final stroke, the sword plunged downward—the blade drove into the ground, taking the hand that seized my leg. I looked back to the floor—all the limbs were gone.

“I thought you were gone…” I looked at him with scared eyes and muttered, “I thought I was gone.”

“I was just a little preoccupied with some hands down the hall; sorry it took me so long,” he said as he flashed one of his gleaming smiles.

I grabbed his hand as quickly as possible, with no intention of letting go.

“What is this place?” I asked, confused.

“We are in the hallway of the castle,” Finn whispered.

“How do you know?”

“This was my fear.” He let out a strong sigh.

-25-

MIRROR, MIRROR

There were tall stands with burning candles placed at the end of the dark hallway. Once we passed the candles, we entered a room filled with the strong feeling of death. The floor, ceiling, and walls were a polished black stone. Everywhere we turned, we could see our blurry reflection looking back us. A square chandelier dropped from the black ceiling. Two women dressed in black shawls stood next to a throne; they all seemed to be a part of the stone wall. Victor sat proudly on his throne with his long fingers intertwined, resting loosely in his lap.

“Well, well…it is nice of you to join us. I’ve been waiting for this day.”

In a blink of an eye, he was standing right in front of me. Finn drew his sword and hurled it forward at Victor, but the blade stopped inches away from his throat.

“That’s no way to treat your host.” Victor smiled, and then nodded his head.

With a blank stare, we watched as Finn’s sword went spiraling upward in the air. The sword spun until the point of the blade balanced on the ceiling, next to the chandelier. Suddenly, I heard Finn gasp and looked just in time to see a rope thrown around his neck, pulling him into the shadows of the room.

“I told you it would be easier if we were friends.” The voice was haunting coming from the dark.
Erik.

Finn wrestled, throwing one elbow back after another, but as the rope tightened, his efforts were useless.

“Finn,” I cried.

Before I could run to him, Victor’s eyes locked with mine. It was the same mesmerizing stare Edmund had used to leave me intoxicated. His aura grabbed me like a black panther going in for the kill. I could hear Finn struggle from behind, but I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed in Victor’s trance.

“I have the answers you seek,” he said.

I unintentionally followed him like a lost puppy to the corner of the hall where a scarlet cloak was draped over the surface of a tall, wide object, resting on a stand. The cloak was the same as the one I had followed into the cave. For a moment, that thought broke his trance.

“Where did you get this?”

“From you, my dear.” He grabbed the red fabric and flung it high in the air. I watched as the scarlet material rained down through the air, elegantly collecting on the floor in a red puddle. He motioned to the newly exposed surface of a black mirror. Through the deep black of the surface, I could see my own reflection, staring in confusion.

“Look—look deep into yourself,” his voice commanded.

“Don’t listen to him. Look away,” Finn said with a pleading tone.

It was already too late. I watched as my own reflection turned against me. I could hear no sound from the hall, only a faint whisper in my head. A blurry image of a child appeared—the same girl I had chased once before. The girl from my dreams, the girl from the cave—we were one and the same.

I slowly stepped toward the mirror. The golden decorated edges were completely out of focus now. I couldn’t take my eyes off the girl. As I neared the mirror, I reached out to touch the surface, just like I had once before. It was smooth, cold, and very much real. Instead of the image disappearing, like it had when I touched the mirror at Maytide’s, the girl started to appear more in focus. Blurry images swirled around her. Bright strands of green grass formed below the girl’s feet, and then long-stemmed daisies popped from the ground. I watched, dazed, as the young girl skipped and twirled through the field of daisies—I suddenly could remember everything.

These were images from my life—through my own eyes. The memories I had searched for were finally right before me, playing like a perfectly directed movie.

I placed my other hand to the black glass. A tall, handsome man, with bright eyes and dark hair, appeared holding the hand of a beautiful woman. I knew their faces right away—my parents. I felt my face tighten while I tried to hold back tears of undeniable joy. I watched as the small wrinkles around my dad’s eyes smiled at my mother. My mom’s blonde hair was flying in the wind—her wheat-colored curls danced and shimmered in the light, like branches of pine needles from the enchanted forest. Her skin was bright and flawless in the sun.

The images jumped to another moment from my life.

I was a little older, running around a castle playing hide-and-seek with a boy. He always found me, no matter where I was hiding, and he would grab my hand every time. I could remember it all. Finn. This image quickly faded, while another one appeared.

I was a teenager, and my father was teaching me how to use a sword. His eyes were so kind, and he smiled a proud smile as I learned the forms. He called me his little angel. I watched an image of him holding me tightly in a fatherly embrace, and I could smell the rich scent of pine on his skin—it felt like he was right there with me.

My mother came into focus. She sat by a fire, rocking back and forth in a wooden chair. She looked so happy, so beautiful. I remembered her smile, her tender hands, how every night she would kiss me on the cheek and whisper,
“Dream of daisies, my sweet child.”

Another memory emerged. A teenage boy walked along the water’s edge skipping stones and yelling my name. I ran to him, giggling and twirling a white nightgown around my waist. I was wearing a scarlet cape.

He pulled me near. “Promise you’ll never grow tired of me, Clara.”

“That would be impossible. Things will never change between us,” I promised.

The dashing young Finn placed a hand in my hair, then leaned in to press his cheek to mine. A simple embrace, but I could feel the love in my soul as I watched him pull away.

“Clara, I love—”

A loud explosion broke free in the night, sending us into an unexpected panic. The happy moment was lost.

We were running from the water of the ocean--running to the castle. Everyone was screaming—the castle was being invaded.

I watched helplessly from the mirror, feeling the fear I had felt at that exact moment. My breathing quickened, and I pressed my palm to the glass—wishing I could break through to help. Hundreds of men, all with swords drawn tall, paraded through the castle entrance. There were not enough men to stop them—my father and the crusade had been off fighting a war in the north. There was no one left to fight, the intruders had known. It was an ambush.

Finn grabbed my hand and led me to the side of the castle. Together we slid a stone out of place on the outermost wall and snuck into the castle through a secret tunnel. We quickly made our way to his brother’s room. No one was there. We crawled through another tunnel that led to where my mother was staying—she was gone. I remembered praying that she had gotten away in time. We continued down the tunnel and jumped into a small opening that led to a vent in the king and queen’s room. Through the holes of the vent, we watched as dozens of men surrounded his mother and brother. The queen held his young brother tightly as the men tore the room apart. Finn tried to call out to her, but I quickly placed my hand over his mouth. While the men grabbed items from the room, the queen’s eyes looked to the vent. She knew we were there, watching. Sadness like no other had filled her eyes; she subtly motioned with her hand for us to stay in place and mouthed three little words,
I love you.