I shoved a branch out of my face, catching my breath. “I’m telling everyone you said that.”
He studied the ruined barrier. “How did you know the water would?—”
“Because I pay attention to how things work instead of assuming I can just cut through my problems with a blade.”
“And why didn’t you use that tactic before I threw you over the last wall?”
“Because that hedge wasn’t going to kill us. These roots were actively trying to. I’m not wasting magic on convenience when I might need it for survival. Especially when we have no idea how long we’re going to be stuck in here.”
The crowd came alive. As promised, we couldn’t see them beyond some kind of magical haze above, but there was stomping and roaring and that was enough of a sign. The others had undoubtedly joined the race. Shouts of coordination came from behind us, then a roar that could only come from Marcus in beast form.
“Time’s up,” Wickett said, picking up his pace. “From here, it’s kill or be killed. No more arguing.”
We ran. And ran, letting our arms become shredded beneath the angry maze, keeping our emotions in check to keep the path as clear as possible. On and on it went. Sharp left turns, steep declines, up one way only to find dead ends, just to turn the other way and be stopped again. The hedge was shifting. Making it impossible to really get anywhere logically. Even when we tried to map it out, things shifted too quickly, and we were lost again.
Beyond our walls, the crowd’s screams alluded to whatever the others were facing. The roars of excitement and bouts of disappointment came in an almost clockwork fashion.
Until we landed in a clearing we hadn’t found before.
Five paths branched out like the fingers of a dead hand before us. Five options. The walls here were thicker, twisted with thorns the size of daggers. But in the distance, barely visible through the fog rolling in, a crown waited on a pedestal.
All we needed to do was get the crown and then get the hell out of here. Let the others spill their blood. Except that wasn’t how this would really end.
Only one witch, one shifter and one hunter could walk away. The trial wasn’t the maze. It wasn’t the item we were about to choose. It was kill or be killed. If not in this nightmare, then another. Simple as that.
I took a step toward the center path, and the ground trembled.
“Wickett—”
The trembling intensified. Around us, the hedge walls began to groan and shift. But this was different from the maze’s natural movement—violent, angry, like two opposing forces fighting for control. Thorns grew from daggers to swords. Flowers bloomed that hadn’t been there moments before. Beautiful, deadly things that smelled like rotting meat.
“Someone’s hijacking the maze,” Wickett breathed, pulling the second sword from his back. “Taking control from whoever built it.”
The five passages around us started to close. Not gradually. Violently. Branches crashed together like jaws snapping shut. The path we’d just taken sealed. And from somewhere in the maze came Katarina’s voice. “Found you, Rune Weaver.”
The ground split open beneath our feet.
Chapter 16
Syneca
Blood calls to blood, and the deepest magic demands the highest price.
No warning. No time. One second solid earth. The next... nothing.
We fell.
Wind tore at my face. My stomach slammed into my throat. The walls rushed past in a blur of jagged stone and twisted roots that could probably punch through my skull like paper.
Fuck. Fuck. We were going to die. Splattered across rock older than the city, older than anything anyone alive had ever seen, and this far down, nobody would even find the pieces.
I needed to think.
But I panicked for two seconds longer than I needed to. Two seconds of pure animalistic terror where my brain just screamed and my magic cowered in my chest.
Twenty feet down. Thirty.
Think, damnit.
