His head tilts slightly, curious.
“I read about the Spiral of Echoes in an old book. I think only one or two people ever reached this challenge.”
“But that means surviving the Blade Corridor,” he says. “You said no one has ever–”
“The rooms and corridors move, remember? Ancient magic.”
“Sorry, continue.”
“The Spiral of Echoes is meant to make people go crazy. The stone faces move and talk, and they say terrible things. It’s important to ignore them.”
Castien studies the carved mouths lining the walls.
“That doesn’t sound too difficult.”
I don’t tell him that I’m very tempted to turn back right now. I know what the mouths will say, but if I explain that to him, maybe he’ll be the one to want to return. We’ll want to turn back together, not face this challenge at all, and then we’ll have come so far for nothing.
We start down the stairs. The faces watch us descend, their bulged-out eyes following us. The steps spiral deeper and deeper, and the air grows colder with each step we take. Maybe that means we’re getting closer to the vault. A girl can hope.
“I can’t... Mother, forgive me...”
The voice is thin and desperate. A shudder runs through me, and my grip on the flashlight tightens. If I get startled, it’s important that I don’t drop it. A second mouth continues the lament.
“My leg... oh God, my leg is gone...”
“I was so close... I don’t want to turn back… But if I don’t…”
These are the words of the people who died in these caves or abandoned the journey. All Holloways, all thinking they couldbeat the traps. The magic in the walls listened to them and registered their thoughts.
The voices wail and whisper, but it’s not too bad. Just as I think that, they switch gears, as if they can tell I’m not affected.
“I will fail. What makes me so special that I’ll succeed where others didn’t?” a voice hisses. It sounds… like me.
I falter. No. Please… No.
“They died trying, and here I am, thinking I’m better than them,” another head says as I pass it.
“I’m not better. I’m an awful person.”
“Selfish, entitled. I’m not enough, never will be. I’m pretending.”
My heart pounds as my own self-doubt pours from the carved mouths. I increase my pace as much as I can without tumbling down the stairs.
“I am filthy. I am unworthy.” This voice sounds polyphonic.
“Who do I think I am, clinging to human things?”
Oh, Castien… I half hoped the ancient magic wouldn’t be able to read his thoughts. There are no accounts of two people facing the Spiral together, so I don’t know if the voices will try to turn us against each other or merely just embarrass us.
“Abomination pretending to have a soul.”
Our fears and insecurities are out in the open. I don’t turn to look at him, but I can feel his gaze on my nape. I can hear him climbing down just as urgently as I am. If he had any space to spread his wings, I’m guessing he would’ve taken advantage of it by now.
The stairs seem endless, spiraling down into the heart of the earth. The voices grow louder and more insistent, digging deeper with the purpose of drawing blood.
“I wanted to rub myself against him and make myself come.”
Oh… No. Damn it. No, no, no. I freeze, feeling mortified, holding my breath.
