Oh, for fuck's sake.
This one is harder than trying to solve a Rubik's cube blindfolded, and I can practically hear the gears in my brain grinding to a halt. I have to focus, or we're going to end up dead.
I chew on my lip like a piece of gum, my mind racing. "Darkest depths, softly glow... beacon for the lost... Shit, I don't know. A lighthouse?" I blurt out, immediately regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth.
"Wrong again,"the voice taunts,"One more chance, or face the consequences."
The blade that had stopped now kicks back to life, and I let out a groan of defeat that sounds like a dying whale. The blades' deadly dance gets faster until they're nothing but a blur of glinting metal. And then, because the universe can fuck right off, another set of blades drops down behind us with a sickening clank, cutting us off and trapping us in.
Shit! Oh my god. I'm pretty sure my heart is about to explode out of my chest like a xenomorph, and Rhyland's grip on my hand is so tight I'm pretty sure he's rearranging my bone structure. He tries to Jedi mind-trick those blades into stopping, but it's about as effective as using a squirt gun on a forest fire.
Rhyland's jaw is clenched tight, and he's sweating more than a sinner in church as he gives it another go. The blades sound like a pissed-off blender, slowing down for a hot second before Rhyland drops his hands, looking like he just went ten rounds with a hurricane.
Shit.
I guess we can't count on vampire superpowers to save our asses this time. Time for Plan B... if only I had one.
"Darkest depths, softly glow... beacon for the lost..."
"Try bioluminescence, baby,"Rhyland's voice echoes in my mind, clear and insistent. He knows damn well that only one of us can answer these stupid fucking riddles.
That's good—genius.
"Wait, could it be... bioluminescence? Like that glowing shit we saw earlier?" I ask as I pray to every god I can think of that I'm right.
Because if we're not…
Two blades shudder to a stop, frozen in place. I let out a shaky breath—my knees weak with relief.
"Two down, one to go," Rhyland murmurs, his voice strained with the effort of keeping calm. "You've got this, baby. Just one more."
The final riddle echoes through the cavern, the voice heavy with malice.
"In water's grasp, I flicker bright, A dance of shadow and of light. What am I, in liquid's flow, That makes the depths above me glow?"
For the love of all that'sholyand unholy!
The panic now is a living, breathing thing inside me, clawing at my throat and squeezing my lungs until I can barely breathe. It's like a thousand tiny spiders crawling under my skin, a million ants marching through my veins, and I swear to god, if I don't get out of this fucking tunnel soon, I'm going to lose my shit.
The blades behind us are getting closer with every second, the sound of their swinging filling my ears until it's all I can hear.
We're forced to shimmy closer to the one blade swinging in front of us, the metal glinting in the eerie light like the teeth of some monstrous beast. I can feel the heat of Rhyland's body pressed against mine, the tension in his muscles, the way his breath comes in short, sharp bursts. He's just as scared as I am, and that terrifies me more than anything else.
"Water's grasp, flickering bright... shadow and light... Ugh, I don't know. A flashlight?"
All three blades drop back down with a sickening clang, swinging faster now, the air whistling as they slice through it—I have to fight back a scream as they get closer and closer until I can practically feel the metal brushing against my clothes.
"Wrong again,"the voice taunts, making my blood cold."Time's up, little saviors. Prepare to meet your doom."
The blades are so close now that I can feel the air they displace, the way they make my hair flutter and dance like I'm in the middle of a tornado.
"Babe, I don't know what to do," I whisper, my voice small and broken. Rhyland doesn't respond, but I can feel the way his body tenses, the way his grip around my torso tightens until it's almost painful.
The tears are flowing freely now, hot and salty, against my skin, and I can taste the despair on my tongue, bitter and cloying. My mind is a whirlwind of half-formed thoughts and fragmented memories, snippets of my life flashing before my eyes like some jacked-up highlight reel.
I squeeze my eyes shut—a scream of pure desperation tears from my throat as I dive deep within myself, clawing desperately for that elusive time-bending power. It's like trying to grab a fistful of smoke in a hurricane, but I keep pushing, straining, until I finally brush against that familiar spark.
Something shifts.
