Page 50 of Blaze of Our Lives

“Still alive,” I confirmed.

Her laugh was positively unhinged. “Call for my leg. NOW!”

Without a second thought, I did it. “Leg, come to me. I need you.”

A tingle that didn’t hurt but was very bizarre shot through my body. The leg appeared with a short, sharp jolt of electricity. I gaped at it in wonder.

“Did it work?” Pandora screamed.

“It did,” I shared, unsure whether to laugh or cry. I did neither. We still had a ways to go.

“My legs are fabulous. How does it feel?” she demanded.

I tried it out. It was a little longer than my own leg since Pandora was taller, but I could make it work. What amazed me was that it was clad in my black cargo pants and sporting a matching black combat boot to the one I wore. “It’s perfect.”

“Of course, it is. It’s mine.”

“We’re going for the hot stones now,” I told her.

“I still recommend keeping your arms out to the sides for balance,” Pandora instructed. “And I think you should hop again. Get off each stone as quickly as possible.”

“Agreed,” I said. “Here we go.”

The heat was intense. Pandora, again, had been correct about hopping being the best way to get through this particular obstacle. Having two legs made it much easier. Once again, I decided to go in a straight line. Hopping from side to side would waste time we didn’t have.

The minute my combat-clad feet hit the stones, they hissed and smoked. The blueish tendrils twisted upward toward the golden clouds and red sun. I didn’t care to look this time. My focus was on getting out of the fiery mess.

“Are you melting?” Pandora asked.

“Nope, but the boots are,” I said, hopping like a bunny on roids. “Besides, I can’t melt. I’m Bitch Goddess Cecily, not the Wicked Witch of the West.”

“You’re stealing my lines,” she pointed out.

“I’m sharing them.”

“Whatever,” she shot back with a chuckle. “You can write me a check later.”

“Off the rocks,” I said. This time I didn’t have to wait for her to tell me to use a little magic to douse my smoldering feet. I did it fast and moved to the next fucked up obstacle. My heart began to pound, and sweat dripped down my muddy neck. I was aware I could lose an arm in this section if the game played out like it had the last go around. But this time, I was determined to get a different outcome. I had an extra arm up my sleeve… so to speak. I giggled at my thought.

“What’s funny?” Pandora asked.

“I’ll tell you later.” I didn’t have time to explain the weird pun. “Entering the maze.”

“You know you’re about to lose an arm.”

“Yep. I’m ready for it.”

“Well, shit,” she muttered. “Keep this up, and before you know it, your balls will be as big as mine.”

“Bigger,” I countered.

Pandora cackled with delight. “Okay, big balls, let’s get this shit done.”

The shit, as she put it, was the spiked maze. I rubbed my arm, remembering how horribly painful it had been to get stabbed and mutilated the first time. Luckily, the maze appeared identical in length and structure as it had been before. That was a relief. It still consisted of a fence on two sides that zigzagged for about ten feet. There was two feet of space between the walls. I didn’t see any of the spikes, but I knew they were there. As soon as I got into the maze, the blades began thrusting out and in from the fence walls like they had before. There was no rhythm, no rhyme, nor reason, and no pattern to memorize. The deadly jabs were maddeningly random, and they were coming at me both high and low.

Trying to replicate my moves from the first run-through so I didn’t lose more than just an arm, I was prepared as we reached the spot where I’d been stabbed. “We’re almost at the arm shredder.”

“Grit your teeth and go for it. No fucking pain, no fucking gain,” she stated.

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