Page 145 of Storm of Shadows

I don’t like the idea of leaving her to her fate.

It is forbidden to help her. It is against the rules to provide aid to any other student. Do I care?

If I’m caught, I’d be expelled from the trial and stripped of my points.

I stare down at my bare hands and ask myself again, do I care?

I walk around corners, passing over and through the remains of the traps laid out. Most of the students out there won’t make it this far. They definitely won’t make it to the center.

Three more minutes and I’m there. The heart of the maze – a square bordered by low-manicured hedgerows, a fountain spurting water in the center, a dark crystal spinning in the current. My intuition tells me that if I reach out and take it, the trial will be complete.

I call the shadows back to me, feeling them drive back inside me like a thousand knives – sharp, lethal, deadly.

I unhook my gloves from my belt and tug them back onto my hands, the leather feeling stiff and even more confining than it did before. Thunder booms above my head, shaking the fountain and the bushes. I reach forward, through the cold water, and take hold of the crystal in my hand.

“Trial completed,” a voice whispers.

Immediately the ground spins away, and I’m gone.

Gone all but for a sliver of shadow I leave behind.

Something to protect her.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Briony

Lightning streaks across the sky above me and thunder roars. The air is icy cold and I hug my arms around me and consider my surroundings. Immediately, I recognize this trial for what it is.

A maze. It’s a maze. I laugh out loud. I can’t believe it; Clare was right.

I mean, I’m sure it won’t be as easy as a straightforward maze. I’m sure they’ll have thrown in a bunch of other challenges along the way, but if I follow Clare’s rule, then maybe – just maybe – there’s a chance I might actually complete this trial. Or at least complete it enough to earn some points.

Straight in front of me, a tall wall of sharp brambles blocks my path, leaving me with the option of turning left or right. I go with the left, keeping my hand hovering along the surface of the thorns as I run along paths, swerve around corners and meet dead-ends. I know this method through the maze is time consuming so I need to be quick about it, especially as I’m forcedto double back on myself several times, but I’m sure I’m drawing closer to the center of the maze – I’m sure I can feel it.

Of course, I should know better. Life doesn’t work that way for a girl from Slate Quarter. Whenever you think you’re on to a good thing, it’s snatched away. As soon as you rise, you fall. As soon as you feel just a teensy bit confident, the realm shows you exactly why you shouldn’t be.

Because blocking my path is the biggest dog I’ve ever seen. It’s as big as a bear and covered in mangy fur, scabs on its legs and its back. Spit drools from its open jaws and its eyes wild and frantic.

It spots me, draws back its cracked lips and growls, showcasing rows and rows of sharp teeth.

I don’t think this is going to be a situation like Dray’s wolf. I don’t think I’ll be charming this dog-like creature and making a new friend. For the briefest of moments, I stare at the creature, and terror and panic overtake me, making my body shake and bile rise up in my throat. Then I pull myself together and run.

I have two legs. The dog has four. But it doesn’t look healthy and I am fast. It’s possibly the only thing I have going for me. And so I run as fast as I can, driving my legs and my arms forward with all my might, swerving and diving round corners, trying to make my path random in the hope I’ll lose the creature.

Behind me I hear the thunder of its paws on the hard ground and its panted breath. It’s right behind me, chasing me as I take a hard right, and then two lefts.

It’s going to catch me. I know it’s inevitable and I try to form a plan as I run.

Do I wrap myself up into a ball, protect my head and my face and wait for the trial masters to save me – hoping I still have a throat left by the time they fish me out of this maze? Or do I attempt to fight the beast off, hold it at bay with my hands and my feet as best I can?

Neither option seems great. Both will involve me losing large chunks of flesh.

I keep running, searching the ground for some kind of weapon as I do, the paws still thundering, the beast still coming, and then, suddenly, a shriek of pain, followed by a whimper. The thumping paws stop.

I don’t hang about to find out what the hell just happened. Perhaps the beast stumbled, perhaps it tripped. If it did, this is my chance to get away.

I sprint haphazardly through the maze, left and right, right and left, running and running, until I hear nothing but my own feet and my own breath.