To his right and left were long corridors, walls of deep, dark green that had no end he could see. There was a sign straight ahead of him that read “Death this way!” with arrows pointing in all directions. “Subtle.” He wrenched it down and tossed it onto the rutted path. From the corner of his eye, he saw it disappear, sinking into the dirt. “Less subtle,” he murmured.
Above, there was only sky. Was it the same sky Elloven sat under? Or was he somewhere else?
Thinking about her is going to get me killed. My life has completely fallen apart since she entered it.
“Or is it that you’ve never been more alive than you are now?”
Jesstin jerked his head around to find the source of the voice, but there was no one. No one real anyway.
“Oh, we are very much real, Jesstin Skylark. Come and see!”
Jesstin mopped his brow and temple and randomly went right. He ran his hands along the maze walls, but they were just packed leaves and branches.
“Are you certain this is the way you want to go?”
“Wasn’t before, but I am now,” Jesstin said, suddenly understanding how easy it was for the dead to win. All they had to do was create enough confusion to plant doubt. It wouldn’t take long at all to lead a man to his end.
Jesstin had to hide his thoughts better.
He narrowly missed smacking into a hedge wall that had appeared from nowhere. His breath was close enough to land on the dewy leaves, one of which seemed to... be waving at him. I’m not surprised. I expected this. I’m not surprised. I am not surprised. I am not?—
“You cannot hide your subconscious from us, Jesstin. There’s no need to endure this. All we’re asking is for a chat.”
“I’ll bet that’s what you say to all the girls,” Jesstin retorted with a sharp pivot. He started back down the other way, but ahead was another wall, with paths to the right and left. And a sign.
Must we? It read.
He went left this time and faced another choice. Groaning, he went right, then left again, then another left. Even though it felt like he was fanning outward, the maze seemed to tighten around him, and each turn was smaller and more constricted than the last. If it continued, he’d be crushed. He thought of those serpents he’d read about that could squeeze the life out of a man.
“There are no serpents in Rivenholde.” A woman.
“None save the ones watching you from the gardens,” sang another woman.
“You think you’re better?” Jesstin’s breaths grew shallower as the world shrank. I’m fine. I can do this. I will do this.
He pitched forward into a forested wall when something wrapped around his ankle and tugged his foot right from under him. He yanked, but it didn’t let go. He barely had time to grab hold of the branches inside the leaves before both of his feet came up and out from under him, until he was suspended in the air like a plank.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
“Breathe, breathe, breathe,” a little boy taunted, from somewhere. He knew that sinister giggle. “Die, die, die.”
The surrounding leaves rustled. Jesstin’s hair blew back and up like he’d been slapped, his face melting against the force. The sound turned thunderous, leaves all around him snapping free and lashing his face as they whipped by. None hurt as badly as the cut Elloven had left, but the all-at-once assault caused his hands to falter and shake. His tethered ankles felt like syrupy fire.
A bellowing roar pealed beneath him. Don’t do it. Don’t you look down, he thought, right as he did precisely that. The earth had opened into a spiral of sand and dirt waiting to swallow him whole. A scream built in his throat, but he held it with his breath.
Someone howled. Then more joined until it was an entire chaotic reprise of howls bleeding into one ghastly song.
“I will hear... your pleas... later... your pleas...” Drool fell from his mouth. Was that blood in the swirling sand? His entire body was flush with wounds, but none of them were as brutal as the discordance of horror between his ears. “Your... pleas.... please, please...” More blood and spittle dribbled into the void.
Every voice silenced.
Jesstin shrieked when the branches and vines holding him disappeared. He managed to cover his face before smashing into the ground with a soul-shattering thud.
Firm. Not quicksand. Not the void.
“You’ll hear them now,” said the man from earlier, less congenial. “Or not at all.”
Jesstin flopped onto his back and stared at the stars through his haze. He tried to sit and coughed up a wad of... something. His spleen? He’d believe it.
