Page 117 of Wraithwound

They’d been thrown into darkness. Lena’s vision adjusted quickly, and she realized it wasn’t dark, just dim, and they still stood on the same mountain. It wasn’t blisteringly hot. Instead, it was bordering on cold. The wave of relief that followed was enough to ease the grip of the pounding headache that had been threatening to split her skull.

The sky was a deep violet-red, almost black, and no stars adorned the skies. They no longer stood on an incline. Instead, flat ground stretched out for miles in front of them before sloping upward again in the distance. Bioluminescent moss clung to the sparse tree trunks of towering pines while creeping vines snaked along the ground. A few flowers sprang from the cracks between the mountain and protruding stone structures that stood scattered like sentinels guarding the way.

“Well, we’re not at the temple,” Lena said, dusting herself off.

“Where are we?” Cross asked, his face blank.

“You can’t see.” It wasn’t a question.

“No.” Cross sighed.

Lena couldn’t help but wonder if the mountain was testing them. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the white realm seemed to play to Cross’s strengths while this one played to hers. Or was it targeting their weaknesses?

“Really? Not even the moss on the trees? It glows.”

“No,” he replied.

“Looks like it’s my turn to lead you,” she said.

“Looks like?” He smirked.

Well, at least he seemed to be taking this new development in stride. Lena reached for his hand, his fingers curling around hers instinctively, like they’d been meant to fit together in exactly this way.

She tugged on his arm, and they began to walk as she guided Cross in the same detailed manner he’d used to guide her. They walked for hours, the terrain unchanging. The adrenaline from the previous part of the mountain had worn off, and her energy was flagging.

“Should we rest for a bit?” Cross asked before she could get the words out.

“If I sit, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get back up.”

“I’ll get you up,” he promised.

Lena spotted a fallen log that looked like a suitable place for a break. She led Cross over and backed him up slowly, ensuring the backs of his leg were touching the tree, and then she pushed on his chest gently.

He was midway down, arm extended to feel for the log when Lena shouted, a panicked cry tearing from her throat, “Wait!”

She cupped her hands on his buttocks and pulled upward, halting his momentum.

What might have been a humorous situation was undercut by Cross’s muscles tensing and his sober tone.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The moss, it’s moving. Take a step toward me, slowly.”

Cross did as she asked, and they retreated from the fallen tree. As soon as they were three paces away, she left Cross and approached the log, hoping to inspect the moss, when a mass of butterflies erupted from the bark.

“Get down!” she shouted.

Lena threw her arms up to cover her face, tensing as the insects fluttered past, slicing into her skin as they did. Cross did the same, crouching to the ground and growling as the mass of butterflies flitted past. When it fell silent, she ran over to him.

“I’m sorry,” Lena half sobbed, the full weight of their situation bearing down on her. “That was so foolish of me! Everything in here is trying to kill us, I should have⁠—”

She shook her head, tears threatening to blur her vision. She found she was grateful for the anonymity of darkness, especially since she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so exposed. She didn’t know what she’d expected when she entered the gate, but it wasn’t this.

“You warned me in time,” he said lowering his arms. It looked like his armor had taken the brunt of the attack.

“I—” But Lena didn’t finish her sentence because when her gaze fell upon his back, her mouth fell open. “Your back…”

The armor there had been shredded, along with the skin beneath.