Meanwhile, Vanguard presses his forehead to Rebella’s forehead. I can barely hear his whispers over the buzzing pressure within my ears, but his desperate pleas tear at my heart.
“Come back to me,” he says. “Please.”
After a long minute, during which I also try to speak with her, Vanguard looks at me, but I shake my head.
She isn’t responding.
“My power is muted here,” I say, even though I don’t want to admit that aloud. “Hers must be, too. I don’t think she would hear me even if she were awake.” I reach out for Vanguard’s arm, daring to wrap my fingers around his forearm, demanding his attention. “We need to get her out of these realms. Out of the maze entirely. She could have a much better chance of reviving out there.”
He nods rapidly.
In the next moment, Striker and Jonah succeed in freeing her form.
She slumps forward, but Vanguard’s right there to catch her, cradling her in his arms.
Now that she’s free from the rock, it’s clear how frail she is. How much her body has wasted away.
It’s astonishing to me that she’s still alive and breathing.
Has she been hibernating all this time?
There’s no way right now to seek answers to my questions. Quickly, I draw closer to Vanguard’s side, sticking close to him while checking that Striker and Jonah are right behind us before we push back toward the exit, supporting each other when our legs wobble.
Five paces from the exit, it’s as if we hit a wall.
Vanguard, Jonah, and I abruptly stop in unison. If they’re feeling the same weight I’m feeling, it’s like a mountain pressing down on me.
I gasp for breath, horribly aware that I can’t move another step.
30. PEYTON PRICE
My legs buckle, and I’m headed to the ground when a hand closes around my shoulder.
I look up into Striker’s eyes, and the weight lifts, my legs straightening.
“Will you hold on to me?” he asks as I drag air into my chest and try to understand why he is far less affected by this environment than I am.
Even with the reduced pressure, I can’t speak.
I answer him by taking his hand.
He promptly shifts the box to the crook of the arm I’m holding before he steps between me and Vanguard and rests his free hand on Vanguard’s shoulder.
A glance tells me Jonah is already pressing his palm to Striker’s back, maintaining contact.
Then we walk, all of us staying close to Striker as he pushes through the mire toward the misty door.
The cold fog touches my skin, and then we’re through.
I gasp a breath so loud, it feels like a scream. The release of pressure from my body is so significant that I have to grab the wall next to me to stop my levitation power from triggering and floating me up into the air against my will.
At the same time, my hand is still wrapped in Striker’s hand and… for a long moment… I don’t want to let go.
Even when my focus is drawn to the box.
Facing outward is one of the sides that wasn’t glowing before, but now it is. Two symbols are carved on that side that I can’t read, but they’ve somehow now lit up.
Striker doesn’t appear aware of it. His hand remains clasped around mine as he focuses on the field of carnivorous roses. “Let’s go.”
