“Can I close my eyes?”
“You won’t need to. As soon as we turn the corner, the passageway will go dark.”
“But I can see in the dark.”
“Not in this dark.”
“Seriously?” She spreads her hands in annoyance. “We survive the horrors of the shadowpath and facing the goddess, only to face yet another trial? Motherfucker of all the magical cuntwaffles in the universe! God damn you, Aurora!” she screams toward the roof of the cavern.
“It’s best to get it out now,” I say evenly. “If you do that inside the passageway, we are well and truly dead.”
“Been dead before. Three times, actually. Lived to tell the tale.” She crosses her arms.
“Ready?”
Her penetrating stare never leaves mine.
“It’s either this or face the elf army.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Little bird.”
“How long does it take to move through?”
“A few hours, but it will feel longer.”
She reaches for her canteen and takes a swig of water. “Fine. I’m Ready. Let’s go.”
48
The Passageway
ELOISE
Silence. It’s not that remaining quiet is overly difficult for me personally, but I’m so tired of being tested time and time again. After everything we’ve been through, we deserve a break. Besides, I have a feeling this passageway is designed to induce fear. Only someone who knows the enchantment isn’t real won’t scream.
I can stay quiet, but I don’t trust myself not to react and yank the reins if something truly terrifying happens. I knot them and lay them on Romulus’s neck, gripping the edge of his saddle instead. The rabble beast follows Borus forward and around the bend.
I press my lips tightly together. It’s going to be okay. After the shadowpath, it can’t be any worse.
First, there is the darkness, and Damien did not exaggerate when he suggested we wouldn’t be able to see at all. The light dims, and then even my vampire vision can’t cut through the magic around me. It’s not just darkness but blindness. It’s unsettling, but I close my eyes and pretend I’m still human. I concentrate on my breath.
A cloud of humid air surrounds me and then closes in. It becomes hard to breathe, like someone has thrown a heavy, wet blanket over me. It’s suffocating. Each breath is a struggle, like I’m drowning. At first, I remind myself that I don’t have to breathe, but then the sound of my pounding heart and the ache in my lungs makes me question that belief. I am no longer a vampire. I am a vampire with a beating heart. Hearts need oxygen. I draw another heavy breath.
Tears flow as I wonder if I might truly suffocate on the back of this beast, fighting for every sip of air, with no way to cry for help. But I don’t make a sound other than each shaky, pinched breath.
After what feels like an eternity, the pressure abates, and I draw beautiful, fresh, snow-crisp air into my lungs. We must be close to the end. The scent of the deep forest at the height of winter meets my nose. I wait for the darkness to lift, but it persists. I desperately want to ask Damien how much longer but, with effort, maintain my silence.
Something tickles my leg. I brush a hand across my calf and feel fur and legs, like a large spider. I brush it off me, and the feeling stops. Another tickle on my shoulder. I flick my fingers and fling another of the things from me. It’s the same but larger. Definitely arachnid-like, if not a spider.
A few steps more and the tickle on my leg is back, then my arm, my back, my head. As fast as I shake them off, more fall on me. I’m covered in tickling legs and furry bodies. I brush my arms and legs, frantically trying to get them off me, but soon, they are on my neck, my face, burrowing into my hair. I press my lips closed tight to keep them from entering my mouth, then feel one test my nostril. Blowing a gust of air from my nose, I swipe at my face then cover my nose and mouth with my cupped hands and keep them there.
I can breathe now, but that doesn’t stop the army of spider things scurrying over my closed eyes, in and out of my ears, over every inch of my clothing, scuttering over the neck of my cloak. They are everywhere. My tears drench my fingers, but I do not scream, even though I desperately want to. I’m shaking so hard I can hardly keep my seat. I picture myself being wrapped up like a fly in a giant web, and I sob into my hands.
But I wait, and in time, the things drop off me one by one. Finally, I feel safe to remove my hands from my face. I run them over my hair, my arms, my legs, relieved when I find myself free of insects.
Goddess help me, what could possibly be next?
