I glance around, my eyes widening as I take in the scene. Dead skeletal remains are scattered everywhere, littering the ground like some kind of screwed-up Halloween decoration. I grip Rhyland's arm, trying to get his attention without losing my shit completely. "Look," I hiss, my voice barely above a whisper.
I watch Rhyland's gaze sweep the area, his jaw clenching tighter every second. "This can't be fucking good." I can practically feel the tension radiating off him in waves, his every muscle coiled and ready to act at the first sign of trouble.
"Oh, you think?" I shoot back. "What gave it away, the piles of bones or the fact that we're trapped in a murder tunnel with no way out?"
Rhyland looks at me, "Now is not the time for your sass, woman."
I can tell he's on edge, every inch of him primed and ready for a fight. And honestly, I can't blame him. This place is giving me the heebie-jeebies like nobody's business.
We see a narrow fissure in the rock filled with a dark, swirling mist that sets my nerves on edge. "Well, that looks inviting," I mutter, eyeing the ominous gap with a healthy dose of skepticism.
As we step closer, the mist seems to come alive, whispering and hissing like a nest of snakes. Then, out of nowhere, a voice rings out, clear as a bell.
"Only one may answer—three riddles you must solve to pass through this gate. Each answer will stop a blade, but beware, for if you're late, the blades will swing again, and more will drop down, trapping you within this deadly town."
Oh, isn't this just adorable? A rhyming mist? What's next, a singing fog machine?
Then, the universe decides to flip me the bird and the mist parts like the Red Sea, revealing a set of blades that begin to swing like a deadly pendulum. They look like they were ripped straight out of a horror movie. "Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me," I groan. "A deadly pop quiz. Just what I always wanted."
Rhyland's jaw clenches so hard I'm surprised his teeth don't shatter, his eyes narrowing as he studies the fissure like it insulted his mother. "Stay calm," he murmurs, his hand tightening around mine until I'm sure my fingers are turning blue from lack of circulation.
I shoot him an incredulous look, my eyebrows climbing so high they're practically merging with my hairline. "Stay calm? Are you kidding me right now?" I screech. "We're trapped in a fucking murder tunnel with no way out, and you want me to stay calm?"
Rhyland gives me a look, saying, "I'm the alpha male here, and I know what I'm doing." Which is complete and utter bullshit. But hey, if it makes him feel better to pretend like he's got this under control, who am I to burst his bubble?
"We can't afford to lose our shit right now," his voice low and steady, like he's trying to talk me down from the ledge of a full-blown freak-out. "Panicking will only make this whole fucked-up situation worse."
I let out a bark of laughter that sounds more than a little unhinged, even to my ears. "Worse? How could things possibly get any worse than this?" I gesture wildly at the swinging blades, the piles of bones—the whole fucked-up situation we've found ourselves in.
Rhyland shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You'd be surprised," his tone dry. "Trust me, baby. We've got this."
The blades swing back and forth like they're trying out for the world's deadliest pendulum competition, each pass getting closer to turning us into human sashimi. I whip my head around, desperately searching for another way out, but it's like we're trapped in a goddamn Saw movie. The walls are closing in, the tunnel narrowing until it feels like we're stuck in a freaking straw, and the only way out is through the murder hole.
The voice echoes through the cavern again, the first riddle hanging in the air like a noose.
"I flow without a form; my light ignites the storm. What am I?"
I scowl at the riddle, my brain doing its best impression of a hamster on a wheel as it tries to make sense of the clue. "Flow without a form... light ignites the storm... Hell, I don't know. Electricity?" I throw out, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I'll get lucky and the universe will decide to cut me a break for once.
But, of course, the blades keep swinging, their deadly arcs getting closer and closer. The panic claws its way up my throat, my heart pounding like it's trying to break out of my chest and make a run for it.
"Wrong answer,"the voice intones, and I swear I can hear the sadistic glee from every word."Try again."
I take a deep breath, trying to force myself to focus past the mind-numbing terror coursing through my veins.
What the hell flows without form?
I dig deep into the recesses of my mind, dusting off that analytical part of my brain that I love so much but always seems to short-circuit at the worst possible moments.
Light, storm... Shit. Come on, Dani, think! And then, like a jolt, it hits me. "Okay, okay. Flow without a form... light ignites the storm... Wait, could it be... water?"
The moment the word leaves my lips, one of the blades shudders to a stop, frozen in place. I let out a whoop of triumph, my pulse racing with adrenaline.
"One down, two to go," Rhyland murmurs, his voice tense. "Keep going, baby. You've got this."
The voice rings again, the second riddle hanging like the Sword of Damocles, just waiting to drop and slice us in half.
"In darkest depths, I softly glow, A beacon for the lost below. What am I, in ocean's keep, That guides the weary from the deep?"
