Page 41 of Hallowed Games

Every time a blade sheared through the air above me, I felt as if my heart would stop. And with a sharp pang of horror, I realized there really wasn’t any guarantee that the blades would stay at the same level, was there?

Still, it was a little late to go back now.

Behind us, Sazia was still chattering wildly, her voice breaking. “I bid my sorrow flee and my fair fortune turn again…”

“When the Luminaries came for us, I was making hot cross buns,” said Reginald. “I don’t know if anyone ever took them out of the oven. They would have burned. My wife must have found them like charcoal after the Purification. She’s not well. She can’t run the bakery on her own. She’s got a lung sickness. And they want us to die here, don’t they? I’ve done everything they asked, and they want to chop us up and burn us. But my wife is praying. She’s praying, so I’ll get home to her.”

I turned back to look at Reginald, who was following close behind me.

“We’re okay,” I lied. “Just follow after us.” I needed him to stay calm.

Reginald glanced at one of the fallen men’s torsos. The corpse’s green eyes stared blankly up at the sky, reflecting the passing clouds.

I could see the color draining from Reginald’s face. He cringed away from the body. “Oh, Archon save us.” He shifted as far away from the body as he could, his path moving off track.

“Reginald, stay just behind me. We know those stones are safe. Try to put pressure on the same ones I do.”

His body shook, and his hand slammed down on a stone too far to the right.

The sound of metal against stone sent my pulse roaring.

Pain streaked across the back of my thigh, a searing burst of agony. I froze for a moment, my heart slamming. No.

Screams wended through the air around me. With a shaking hand, I reached behind to feel the damage on my thigh. A deep gash had carved through my skin. Fear snapped through my thoughts. What were my chances now of getting out of here alive with this wound?

Shaking, I turned back to look at Reginald. With horror, I realized the baker was no more. The blade had severed him in two, straight through the chest. My heart twisted.

The lacerating pain in my thigh shot through me, making my teeth chatter, and the scent of death hung in the air like a dark cloud.

How many more blades were there? Crawling wasn’t safe. None of this was safe. My gaze flicked up the wall, and I could just about make out the subtle slits in the walls where blades were shooting out.

“Everyone stop!” I shouted, my voice shaking. “No one move. Some of the blades are lower than we thought. We can’t move.”

“What do you recommend we do if we can’t move?” asked Godric. “Should we just wait until the wolves arrive?”

“Maybe we should have taken the other path,” added Hugo.

“Not very helpful at this point, is it?” Godric shot back.

Percival looked behind at me. “Are you all right, Elowen?”

I felt as if my leg had been ripped in half. “Reginald got the worst of it.” The scent of his blood made my stomach turn. “He will not be returning to his wife.”

Blood poured from my thigh, and I started to wonder if I would bleed out in the maze, but I tried to think clearly through the haze of pain. My gaze flicked to the walls, where thick vines hung down over the top. As far as we knew, the triggers were only the cobblestones. Could we simply climb on the walls to avoid them? We weren’t allowed to go above the wall, or the archers would shoot us. But scaling it…

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to picture it working. I didn’t think the triggers would be in the walls themselves. By the placement of the vines and the slits I could see, it looked as though the blades only cut through the lower half of the wall. The moment we got above that line of vines, we should be in the clear.

I gritted my teeth. “We climb,” I said. “Let me show you.”

Percival turned to look at me, then up at the vines. They began at around shoulder height, which must be the topmost part that the blades sliced through.

I looked down at the places where my hands and knees had been pressing against the ground. As far as I knew, those were the only safe stones.

Carefully, I rose on shaking legs. Sharp tendrils of dread coiled through me as I reached for the vines above my shoulders, desperate not to slip out of place. I gripped some of the vines above the path and started to pull myself aloft, walking up the rocky wall.

Tiny prickers on the vines bit into my skin. I stared down below me, watching the stream of blood pour from my thigh onto the stones.

I winced as I climbed, pulling myself higher. Above the risk of the blades, I clung to the vines, praying that they wouldn’t snap. If I let myself fall, I’d set off more triggers.

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