Labyrinth Wall (9780991531219) (25 page)

Working my way behind the bushes brings me to the small pool of water. The cool water splashes on my face. It’s a good feeling to scrub off some of the grime from traveling.

After washing away my conflicted emotions along with the dirt on my skin, I march over to the tree and stare up at Soll. “You don’t have to like me. That’s fine.”

He scoffs, “More like hate you and I don’t need your permission.”

“That wall Korun came through is a short swim away now. And we don’t know what other attacks Simul might have planned on the labyrinth.” I look down at my feet and tap my fingers on my hip, because the next words aren’t easy to admit. “I really do hope you guys will come with us.”

He looks at my eyes intently, as if genuinely digesting that statement. He squeamishly starts to fidget like he wants to say something, but he stops. He’s probably shocked to hear me talk like this.

“We could be the last Mahk. From the looks of it, the rest are dead. And I really did mean it when I said we could start new.”

“Are you saying you need us, Araina?”

“No
—
” My head wavers. “I’m saying you should come. That’s all. And I’m not going to say it again.”

He stares at me steadily, as if he’s trying to uncover something unspoken.

“I’ll keep watch now, if you trust me.”

He drops his head in his hands. It’s painfully obvious he’s exhausted. He climbs down to the ground and turns before walking away. Soll props himself against the wall and closes his eyes.

He’s angry with me, and that’s that. The reality of our situation can’t be changed now. Maybe we never should have lied to them in the first place, but it’s done. Right this minute, the best move is focus on where we go from here. It would be a shame if Soll, Saige, Keelie, and Laon don’t come with us. Really, what alternative do they have at this point? Where else would they go? The den isn’t an option. Now that we’ve seen what Simul did with the colony, we have to get away from him.

My eyes wander over everyone as they sleep. It would be nice if we could all sleep peacefully on the other side of the wall. It’s difficult to imagine a life of going to sleep without being immersed in torturous nightmares brought on by reality.

My gaze lands on Blue. Her legs are tucked neatly under her belly, sunken into her feathers. Her head rests on her neck. She looks like a big feather ball with a beak. She sleeps so innocently, so naïve. What’s she dreaming about? Does she dream? Creeping up quietly next to her, I collect my canisters that need filling.

“Squawk!” She wakes with a start at the slight clanging sound of my canisters. Her big eyes wander up to observe mine. Laughter escapes me.

“Shhh,” I tell her. I didn’t foresee being able to smile after recent events, but she brings it out of me.

Her feathers are all disheveled, and her gold eyes big with surprise. She looks up and croaks at me as if to ask what the noise was.

“Hush, girl,” I say quietly, “it’s okay.”

Amid the death and ashes, her company is a pleasant relief. She follows me to the puddle behind the bushes and stands beside me as I fill the canisters.

After dropping the water back with the mystery box and other totes, I crawl up into the tree. Listening intently for any outside commotion, I nestle up high in the branches. Blue doesn’t come up with me, but she lies down in the roots, waiting for me patiently.

Snacking on gooey raisins keeps me busy on watch duty. Everything is still and quiet. No lava surges, no hiss of a Buyu
—
all seems to be well.

My scattered drawings on the walls bring back memories. I’ve drawn so many things, most of them from my imagination. Some are drawings of mysterious objects like those in my treasure box or items I haven’t seen in life but I’ve thought up on my own. Either I thought them up or the Creators allowed me to know of them even though they don’t exist in the labyrinth. Among these renditions are beautiful horses and exotic butterflies. A large section of wall is covered with the cascading water from my dream world. It all brings me comfort somehow, even though the drawings are just illusions displayed on rock.

Then my gaze traces the random cracks in the walls as they ascend higher. It’s impossible to determine how many miles up they actually stretch. Little white dots in the sky far past the top of the walls catch my eye. When we reach the other side, the beauty of the night sky might not be obstructed by walls and hazy smoke. Barely evident against their dark canvas, the stars glimmer. Judging by the spreading tint of pink, the sun must not be far off from rising. It finally feels peaceful enough to relax.

Then the raspy voice comes at me again, this time with a new set of words:

I’ve been watching you, my pretty pet,

Your companions are asleep while you’re awake.

I jolt from my reclined position, almost sure that the voice wasn’t in my head. Quiet fills the air for a moment before it comes again

You should never try to trick me.

I know what’s real and what’s fake.

My throat tightens as my eyes survey the space to see if anyone else heard anything. They all seem to be deep in sleep. Removing my dagger from my hair, I proceed to the end of the branch, observing the boulders and corridor outside the hiding spot. It’s dark and difficult to see, but I don’t hear anything else.

I must really be going crazy now
. This time, the rhyme was not in my head. Logically, I know Sir Riddles is dead. The beating of my heart rises in my ear. My breathing naturally shallows. If Sir Riddles is dead and I’m still hearing his voice, then I’m either crazy or being haunted.

A quiet shuffle comes from the corner. Darith has woken up, if he was even really sleeping. He seems like the kind to always have one eye open, even in the night.

My relaxed position in the arms of the tree resumes quickly. Revealing the voices I’m hearing to anyone else seems pointless. Sir Riddles needs to stay in the past before insanity takes me over.

After he shuffles around a moment, Darith climbs the branches then sits quietly next to me. Neither of us speaks for a good twenty minutes. Listening to him breathe, my mind races. I am certain that at any minute, he’ll pipe up with some stupid comment. Minutes continue to creep by.

Finally the silence is unbearable. “So,” I whisper to him, “don’t you have a million questions and smart remarks for me?”

“Nope,” he replies.

“You aren’t curious who these Mahk are? You aren’t surprised to see them friendly with each other?”

“I’m not all that surprised, Araina. Should I be?”

“You of all people should know Mahk don’t form groups. I never saw any join together until I met them.”

“I’m not saying it’s common, but I’ve seen it before.”

“Did you know about the colony then?” I inquire.

“No, I hadn’t heard of a colony. But I have seen Mahk take care of each other before. Isn’t that what you and I started to do too?” he points out.

I soak that in for a minute “I guess so. I just
—
”

“Just what? That’s always been your problem, Araina. Ya think you have everything figured out and that holds you back. Ya don’t ever take a step back and look at the full picture. Ya evaluate everything around at face value and nothing further.”

I shake my head. “Quit acting like you know me so well, Darith.”

“But don’t I?” he retorts. “And don’t they?” He points at the others. “Ya seem to think you know me too. You’ve watched me since you were created, so ya know what I’ve done to survive. You’ve seen me kill to eat.” He looks at me straight in the eyes. “Don’t ya know me?”

The question is clearly meant to be rhetorical. Solemn, dark and yet inquisitive, his expression frightens me a little. I think I understand what he’s getting at, but I don’t want to deal with it.

“No,” I respond. “You don’t know me and I don’t know you, not really.”

He picks at the bark on the limb with frustration.

All the stars are gone, as if they sensed the tension and fled. Despite the smoky atmosphere that fills the labyrinth, pink and yellow colors of the morning are now apparent.

“I’m going to make breakfast for everyone,” I tell him then start my climb down the tree.

“Our actions define who we are, Araina,” he calls quietly after me, “and I’ve watched yours for two years. I do know ya. Ya know who I am and who you are. The question is when are ya going to accept it? Admit to yourself the person you are instead of denying it.”

I pause at the base of the tree as the words of the murderer sink in. I know myself because I know my mind. My actions aren’t all that define me. My brain pushes the interaction away. I want to erase our words and anything they may have insinuated. None of it matters.

Preparing to make a filling meal, I build a fire in the middle of the space. The smell of burning wood is in the air, and the group begins to wake. Allowing me to collect their food, they convey their preferences for breakfast. Mostly, they request potatoes or cooked rat, but Keelie insists she’s only going to eat some raisins. Despite Soll’s and Saige’s encouragement to eat more, she claims her nerves have made her stomach tight.

The conversation isn’t very lively. Darith asks questions about our travels, but no one is eager to fill him in, including me. He goes on to describe his encounter with the guards more thoroughly, and finally Korun offers to heal his infested wound. They depart from the group to deal with that. That’s for the best since the gash isn’t a pleasant sight. Only a few minutes pass before they rejoin the circle around the fire. Evidently Korun’s become more confident in his healing gift.

The smell of baked potato is enticing. Everyone is grateful to have freshly cooked food. We’ll need that boost for what’s ahead. Blue receives an entire cooked fish. Who knows how much she’s been able to eat lately? Croaking happily at me, she laps it up in her mouth.

As everyone starts to eat, someone mentions the colony and the den, which spurs a big conversation. Vickon has a million questions about the Mahk, the colony, and especially the Creators. We tell him everything that’s happened and what the labyrinth was like before Simul’s attacks. The murderous nature of our people and the starvation are the worst parts to tell, yet the most relevant to share. He asks for every detail, thrilled to learn of the world outside the prison. He asks about our creation, wanting to know what it was like.

“We just woke up, huddled in a room together,” I tell him. “It was cold, dark, terrifying. Despite how many of us were crammed into the space, it was lonely. But things only got worse from there, so that’s one of my happier memories.”

We try to tell him how hostile life was and that most Mahk either killed to steal food from one another or starved to death. This leads him to inquire why we all grouped up.

Then Darith takes over the discussion again, conveying the story of Korun coming through the wall from his perspective. “It was all Araina’s idea, goin’ after Korun.”

My response is sharp. “I beg to differ. You were equally vested in the venture.”

He raises his eyebrow. “It was good he showed up when he did. She had a giant gash in her leg.”

“That you put there, I might add.”

“Ya gonna let me tell this story, or what?”

Clearly he could gush on for hours. He really enjoys telling them all how he kidnapped Rase from the bathhouse in the castle. To my surprise, Laon actually laughs at that. Everyone else maintains their cold attitude toward Darith. That’s understandable. In fact, my own intelligence should be in question for joining up with him.

After Darith speaks about the Blood Caves, everyone stares timidly at him.

Not that I’m a social master, but the tension needs breaking “After the first labyrinth attack and escaping the Rotting Pass, we ran in to these guys trying to get back here. We invited them to come along, only they begged us to backtrack and bring along their colony.” I continue describing to Vickon how we ran into Soll and his group, barely surviving the lava as we made our way to the den.

Vickon is intrigued by the talk of the colony which leads him to ask Soll how it was formed. That’s a topic our conversations haven’t yet investigated. His inquiry piques my curiosity. We have all finished eating now, but I’m too intrigued by the formation of the colony to try and wrap up the talk.

We listen intently as Soll elaborates on the history of the colony. It originated years ago, among some peers on an awakening day. He wasn’t among the founders, but the story goes that they initially ran to the Blood Caves, like most new Mahk do.

“The group,” he says, “Saige was among them, encountered the Nabal in the caves. They entered the cave strangers but helped each other escape and find shelter.”

She doesn’t seem eager to talk about it and even appears to be tuned out of the discussion once again.

“It was then that they discovered the den. Of course, at the time, it was a large cave at the back of the mountain. They regrouped and got to know each other before they spent any time among the rest of the Mahk. As they began to venture out for food and water, they discovered how heartless most Mahk could be.” He glances at Darith. “Ever after that, they sought the exceptional Mahk.”

“Exceptional Mahk?” Darith asks sarcastically.

“Yes. Mahk who stood out from the others; that refused to kill.” He looks at me. “Or were too young to fend for themselves at all.” He glances toward Keelie. “Mahk who tried to reach out to others, not only fending for themselves.”

“Trusting other Mahk wouldn’t be easy based on your descriptions,” Vickon comments.

“No, not easy,” Keelie chimes in, “but worth it. You know?”

“I see,” says Vickon.

Keelie looks over at Rase. “We proved that we’re more than the Creators took us for; better.”

I smile at her and nod. The Mahk probably aren’t any better than the Creators, but I never have the heart to argue with her.

As she talks, that strange look appears on Saige’s face again. Finally I recognize her expression
—
guilt. Why?