Page 72 of Mostly Shattered

The words become a mantra.

I feel around above my head, and my hand finds a flat surface. I somehow manage to hoist myself over the cliff’s edge, having no idea how high I’ve climbed or how long. My limbs give out, and I collapse on the hard ground, rolling onto my back and pulling my legs to the side to get away from the edge. I suck in a deep breath, grateful for the air in my lungs and the earth beneath me. I’m exhausted and want to rest, but the labyrinth isn’t done with me yet.

“Anthony?” I croak, wishing for that bottle of water.

The sound of my brother’s voice is gone. I only hear my heavy breathing.

Another torch lights to show me a large cavern.Stalactites hang from above, pointing down like fingers. Small growths cling to the walls like popcorn. The light flickers over them, seeming to give them life. I roll over and army crawl along my stomach because I can’t stand. The slide of my body echoes back to me.

“Anthony?”

He doesn’t answer. I collapse. It feels like the walls are watching me, and I can almost sense the labyrinth’s amusement at my weakness. One trial in, and I’m already spent.

Mere mortal. Human.

The doubt surfaces. It’s what they all say about me. I don’t need a stupid labyrinth to prove it true.

I hear my cell phone ding. The sound causes me to jolt in fright. I scramble to pull it from my pocket. I see a text message from Anthony, “Help.”

When I try to answer him, the phone dies, the screen flickering to useless black.

“Anthony?” I yell. “Where are you?”

The ground beneath me thumps, sending ripples through the stone like heartbeats. At first, I think it’s my chest as I attempt to catch my breath from the climb. I try to push myself up, but the stone creaks and groans before I can get my bearings. A stalactite breaks off the ceiling and comes crashing down. I scream and curl into a ball. That first one is followed by its friends, all of the stonefingers diving from the ceiling to the ground below.

I bury my head in my hands, and my body jerks with each crash. When the noise stops, I look to find the cave formations have created walls to define my path. I push to my feet before the ceiling caves in on me. My muscles are fatigued, but fear gives me strength.

Something pushes up against my foot, and I stumble. A sharp vine twists from the ground next to me. Its barbs try to snag my shirt, and I hear a rip as I pull away. Another grows with lightning speed, whizzing dangerously close to my face. Heat seems to radiate from the vines. My heart quickens at the rapidly changing landscape. I dodge another and try to run, each step a test of my reflexes.

There is no time to strategize as I struggle against the supernatural terrain. The labyrinth is determined to wear me down, making me expend every ounce of my mortal limitations. I don’t know how I keep moving.

My sneaker catches on one of the vines, and I hit the ground hard. The wind knocks from my lungs, and I wheeze. For a moment, I lay there, unable to draw a full breath. Exhaustion presses in. My body screams in pain.

Rage begins to replace the fear. I may not be builtfor this, and every inch of me might scream for a reprieve, but I can’t let the supernatural win.

I’m hit with flashes of my life, and the grief stings. I think of Paul and Diana being chased by monsters, of Anthony and our parents being placed into the crypt wall, of the broken amulet killing Conrad. I think of Costin being forced to babysit me because of a prophecy. I don’t know if he really cares or if I’m simply a diversion. Either way, I wish he was here now to save me. The supernatural world has taken so much from me.

Another thick vine curls from the ground near my feet. The temperature feels like the inside of an oven. Its thorny tip comes around to form an arch above me before embedding itself into the ground once more. I must keep going. Self-pity serves no one.

I push my doubt aside and shout, “You’re not going to break me!”

Maybe it’s foolish, but I want the labyrinth to know I’m going down fighting.

“Tamara,”a disembodied voice whispers as if taunting me.

I swipe the tears from my face, feeling the unsettling sensation of someone watching me. Let them. I hope they find the mortal in a maze fucking entertaining.

“Get it together, Tamara,” I whisper. Thelabyrinth is designed to distort reality, to make me doubt myself.

Another torch reveals the way as the one behind me disappears. Eerie silence is a welcome reprieve to the sound of creaks and rumbles. I propel my body angrily toward it, weaving past the last of the vines.

I’m sweaty and gross. My hands are raw. Dirt from the cave covers my clothes.

The walls groan, echoing my own insecurities, amplifying them. I keep going, doing my best to ignore the physical strain. I don’t need the labyrinth to remind me of how outmatched I am, of how small and weak I always feel. It’s been lingering beneath my surface since my birth.

I may not be like my family, with all their magic and power. I’m not like Costin, with his immortality and strength. But I do have one thing—no one expects me to succeed.

Maybe I don’t belong in this world. Maybe I never will. But if it takes me down, it’s going to be fighting.

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