The tunnel is almost wide enough to lie down sideways. The walls are oddly textured.
I hold up my torch and the uneven ridges come sharply into focus, the fire casting their shapes into flickering outlines.
“These are runes,” I murmur, tracing a hand over a symbol I recognize.
“Can you read it?”
I bite my bottom lip. “Notthatwell.”
Mother was adamant I should learn the Elven runes, even though the common tongue is now used widely across the Midlands. Until now, I never really saw the point. But as onerous as I found the lessons, I’ve always appreciated the beauty of the ancient script. I love the way the letters swirl back on themselves like coiling serpents, the tilting lines and playful dots accenting certain vowels.
As I walk ahead, the torch illuminates larger and larger sections of runes. I pick up on a few symbols I recognize: water, family, fyre, fate, and divinity. The writing goes on and on, swirling in circles until it disappears around every darkened corner.
It takes hours of trial and error, using the spools of thread to retrace our steps, but Cygnus and I follow the labyrinth until the passage finally widens and then opens up entirely. I stepinto a cavernous space, behind which rises an enormous pair of doors. The stone is smooth and unbroken, the carvings clean—not a single flaw mars its surface, like it was carved by the knife of the Gods themselves. I suspect itwas. The polished stone reflects our torchlights, illuminating orbs over distortions of our puzzled faces. Midway between us and the doors stands a small pedestal with a silver chalice sitting atop it.
Cygnus approaches the chalice first. “There are runes around the base.”
I catch up with him and hold up my torch to read it, squinting. It takes several long moments to put everything together.
“‘I am always in your heart, and I can never be replaced. Once gone, I go forever, but you see me in every face.’”When I’ve finished reciting it, Cygnus’s annoyance matches mine.
“It’s a riddle?”
“I hate riddles,” I mutter.
Cygnus nods. “I’ve always been shit at them.”
I frown and examine the chalice more closely. Decorative ivy encircles the handle. I glance up at the runes carved into the stone walls. They’re underlined with a similar ring of vines. The symbols stir an old mental image…something I almost remember. “I think it…wants something for the door to open,” I slowly suggest.
“What do you mean?”
“Like, an offering. I don’t know.” I gnaw on my lower lip, scowl deepening. “But I think we’re supposed to fill the chalice. With a draught, maybe? Or some other kind of liquid?”
“Maybe we could blow it up?” Cygnus suggests.
“There’s a winning idea—blow up the cavern while we’re in it. I see no flaws in this plan.” My stomach growls to remind me that it’s been hours since I’ve eaten. How long have we been in here?
In silent agreement, we both sink to the floor. I turn the riddle over in my head until my sit bones ache, trying to elicit any possible meaning. I come up blank.
“What do you want to do?” I eventually ask. I feel cold and exhausted and useless.
Cygnus sighs with palpable disappointment. “Well we can’t go any farther until we figure out how to open the door, can we? I suppose we turn back.”
This feels like a highly anticlimactic conclusion to our struggle. “That’s it?”
Cygnus musses his hair. “What other choice do we have? Let’s go back to the palace. We can try to work out what the answer to the riddle is there.”
We look together back toward the entrance to the cave—the portal’s turquoise light is little more than a pinprick from this distance. Glancing sidelong at Cygnus, I see he’s wearing the same grim expression.
“Ready for a hike?”
’m getting nowhere.” I drop my book onto the table with athud.Somebody shushes me.
“You’re supposed to be quiet in the library,” says Cygnus with a scowl.
It’s been nearly a fortnight since our descent into the maze. Climbing back out took the better part of a day, most of which was spent bickering over possible solutions to the riddle. I’ve been simmering it over since, but haven’t come anywhere close to a solution.
Part of the problem is that we’ve been too busy. The hospital is teeming as Damien’s forces make headway in southern Sontaag. We’ve just received news that they conquered another of the coastal cities, leaving only nine independent of imperialcontrol. Now that Cygnus and I are allied, he’s stopped wasting my time with chores. If I am not working on the omnidraught, I am helping patients. And every night, with his assistance, I sweep through the East Wing, administering my Talent to do what he can’t. We have to be careful to avoid detection. I can’t save everyone. But we are making a difference.
