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“No,” Dezi snaps, with an edge I’ve never heard from him before. “They don’t want a fight; they want to possess you. Don’t let them by giving them any focus whatsoever.”
Tiernan drops into a crouch, his eyes going full predator. “We go straight through as fast as we can?”
I nod. My heart is beating so hard it hurts. “On my count: three, two, one—”
We sprint, and spectral arms reach out, hands grasping at clothes, hair, skin. I throw up my marked hand on instinct, and a shield of blue-white moonlight erupts from it, forming a bubble around us. The first layer of specters rebounds off it, but the pressure builds instantly, a tidal force pressing in from all sides.
Revelin’s right behind me, voice tight with panic. “Keep it up, Sassy! They’re getting through at the back—”
Khol lets out a loud hiss as one of the ghost arms latches onto his wrist. The ghost doesn’t care about his gaze; it climbs up his arm, half-possessing, half-choking. I yell something—I don’t even know what because I’m freaking out—and Tier grabs Khol’s other arm and pulls hard. Our basilisk’s body convulses, then the ghost tears away, replaced instantly by another.
This fucking bullshit is definitely getting a visit from whatever they call their Ghostbusters in Faerie, because these people deserve to rest in peace.
The pressure is unbearable as my shield dims, then flickers, then cracks in three places. I can barely see through the blue haze, and the noise is overwhelming—a symphony of ghostly screams, each one finding a different frequency to torture. Dezi walks through the fog like it’s just rain, the specters parting for him, then closing right up behind. His eyes are locked on me as I keep us moving to what I think is the end of this torment.
“You’re doing well. Continue on and I will draw as many of them away from the others as possible when the shield cracks.”
I gather my strength, staring at the spot he indicated before I break into a run. The second I do, everything blurs and I’m headed for the next stupid moon mark as it comes into view. When I reach it, I slam my palm onto the stone. The shield detonates outward, blasting the nearest ghosts into nothingness. The rest howl, collapse, and for a second, everything is perfectly quiet.
I think we finally did it; we’re going to get—
That’s when the floor peels away in front of me and a spiral staircase unfurls downward into pure, echoing darkness.
“You have to be fucking kidding me!” I yell as I stomp my foot. “These people are straight sadists. Why should I want to lead them?”
“Yay! On to the next level of hell,” Revelin grumbles. “Definitely giving this court a zero out of ten online when we leave. Accommodations are dreadful.”
Tiernan hauls Khol upright, giving him a smirk. “They really almost had you there, tough guy. Sure you’re ready for another round?”
“As if I have a choice. Fuck off, kitty cat.”
Their grumbling is good-natured, but that sentiment is one gripping my heart inside as I look at the fucking stairway to hell in front of me. I don’t want to lose them or myself, and we have no idea how many more tricks are coming.
“We can’t worry about what’s coming,” Dezi says firmly as he looks me over. “We must move before the ghosts recover and begin their torment once more.”
His statement motivates everyone, and I swallow hard as I descend the creaky, narrow staircase to wherever we’re being herded next.
I don’t look back; I won’t give them the satisfaction.
“Again, touch nothing without a plan. There’s a resonance here that is stronger than in previous rooms,” Dezi says firmly. “It may just be an escalation of the previous traps or new ones.”
I take point as I nod, mostly because the trial always seems to expect it. The mark on my hand tugs, drawing me down the center of the new path, and as I move, the darkness ripples. Ancient sigils crawl up the walls in blue fire, pulsing in time with my pulse.
Behind me, Tiernan and Khol fall into a protective wedge—cat and serpent, in perfect anti-formation. Revelin keeps close, humming under his breath, words I can’t quite catch. Dezi trails the rear, eyes alert, hands twitching as if he’s rehearsing something secret that might save us if everything else fails.
Not gonna lie, I’m hella curious what that is since he won’t give up all his powers yet.
I try to say something witty, but my throat’s a desert and the only thing that comes out is a hoarse croak. As if on cue, the corridor throbs with a fresh wave of magic, and the sigils on the wall blossom open, each one a little vortex of blue heat. They flicker and move, tracking my passage, as if the whole place is taking attendance and I’m the only name that matters. It doesn’t offer any water, though, and I make a mental note that someone needs to be carrying a flask everywhere we go from now on.
We finally reach a landing, and the others pile in behind me, the smell of sweat and blood sharp enough to taste. Khol collapses to the ground, clutching his arm as he winces. Tiernan kneels next to him, looking at it in consternation.
“I don’t see anything, man. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“I’m fine, anyway,” Khol lies as he holds onto his limb. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be up and at ‘em.”
Dezi stands off to the side, his arms crossed and back ram-rod straight. There’s a look in his eye—one I’ve only seen when he was about to have troublemakers ejected for eternity. It’s his ‘this shit is crossing my line’ expression and I get the feeling that he’s not going to be able to remain calm for very much longer.
“Anyone want to explain why his ghost-touch arm is hurting, but we can’t see any injury?” Revelin asks as he kneels next to his bodyguard to examine the basilisk.
