Page 150 of Kingmakers, Year One

I don’t answer. I just keep descending, trying to watch the entrance of the cave for anybody else going in or out.

It’s much more difficult climbing down than up. I have to feel for my footing, and again and again I miss the placement of my feet and they slip out from under me.

My hands and arms are horribly exhausted. My fingers are cramping up. I’m terrified that any second they’ll simply let go.

I didn’t expect to come back this way. I didn’t save anything for the climb down.

I can’t keep an eye on the entrance. At some points on the cliff I can’t see it at all, because of the way the rock bows out. I don’t know if Dean’s come out again, or if Leo has. For all I know, Leo could be back at the castle already. I can’t constantly check because I have to watch what I’m doing, or I’m going to slip and fall a few hundred feet, and then I won’t be helping anybody ever again.

It’s maddening how slow this is. It’s taking me twice as long to go down, the minutes ticking away, while my brain screams at me that something bad is happening, that I have to hurry.

Time stretches out, my shoulders and back throbbing, my hands so raw I can barely feel them anymore. The sun is too hot, sweat is burning my eyes, and my head is spinning with what might be heatstroke or only vertigo.

At last I see the ground beneath me.

I’m afraid to let go of the cliff in case it’s only an illusion, and I’m still high up in the air. I can’t let go with my hands until I feel my soles touching solid ground.

I press my feet against the flat ground, reassuring myself I’ve actually made it.

Then I run to the cave entrance, my legs shaking so hard beneath me that I slip and stumble over the rocky ground.

As I’m dashing inside, I slam into somebody coming out. We both fall back on our asses.

“What in the hell?—”

I scramble up again, seeing only Mikhail. He’s wearing a pair of scuba goggles pushed up on his head.

“Where’s Leo?” I shout.

“How should I know?”

“Did you see him? Is he in there?”

Mikhail is trying to get past me so he can run back to the castle, but I won’t let him pass.

“Is Leo down in the water?” I cry.

“It’s a maze down there,” Mikhail says. “I have no idea where he went.”

“Give me those!” I snatch the goggles off Mikhail’s head.

He shoves past me, holding a lump of gold in his hand. He got his puzzle piece.

I run into the cave, following the distant glow that I hope is a flashlight.

Instead I find a lamp and the sodden, tangled pile of Mikhail’s discarded scuba equipment. There’s no sign of Leo anywhere. Or Dean, either.

I pick up Mikhail’s tank. There’s only a small amount of air left in it—maybe ten minutes’ worth.

I pull it onto my back anyway.

I may be making a huge mistake. But I’m not leaving until I’ve looked for Leo.

I drop down into the pool, which is much deeper and colder than I anticipated. Switching on Mikhail’s headlamp, I see the sickening truth of what he was trying to tell me: it is a maze down here. A huge, rambling, impossibly confusing tangle of tunnels and caverns.

I have no idea which direction to go.

My chest is rigid with fear. If I get lost down here . . . I don’t have the air to find my way back again.

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