Armannii waited until they were out of the village before turning to the two of them and stopping abruptly. He pushed his hair back from his forehead before he spoke to them. “I’m sorry for what happened back there.” He nodded his head towards the direction they had walked.
Diomedes raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
“Snapping. Especially at you, B.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I already mentioned it to Didi, but I can’t stand places that crowded. I can’t hear anything, and in a place like the Dark, it could be the difference between life and death. Still, I’m sorry.”
Blanndynne shrugged. “It’s fine.” She offered him a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes, at least not from what Diomedes could see.
“So, we’re good then?” Armannii asked, glancing between the two of them.
“We’re good.” Diomedes nodded. He and Blanndynne exchanged another glance, and Diomedes wondered if she was thinking the same thing: whether or not they should tell Armannii about Blanndynne’s growing ability to enchant others.
He decided against it, at least for the time being.
Armannii continued to lead the way, complaining every once in a while that the pen was burning him. However, when Diomedes offered to carry it, the elf refused.
“I should lead. I know this place best.”
“Then stop whining about the pen,” Diomedes finally said, earning a snicker from Blanndynne and a pouty face from his friend.
Diomedes’s mind wandered back to the village they had passed through. He knew full well the images and glimpses of magic would create dreams for him the next time he slept, which he hoped would be soon. His legs were sore from walking as much as they had the last week, and his mind desired a break as well. It didn’t help that he was sure his feet were going to fall off or at least be covered in bloody blisters when he next checked.
“The pen is broken,” Armannii muttered as he came to a stop, staring up at a wall of vegetation. It was a hedge that went well above their heads and interwove into the dark roof of the forest. “It clearly wants us to go past this wall, but there hasn’t been a way through.”
“The pen’s not broken,” Blanndynne said, her eyes narrowed at Armannii. “We just need to find a way in.”
“Easier said than done.” Armannii pointed the way they had come. “This wall has gone on for ages at this point.”
“Then keep walking,” Diomedes said, though his entire aching body protested the very thought.
Armannii grunted but obeyed. Not ten minutes later, Blanndynne stopped them.
“What’s that?” Blanndynne asked, distracting Diomedes from thoughts of his comfortable bed and the sight of the boots he wore on his feet melting away in a fire when he got back to Cyanthia. He never wanted to wear them again with the amount of blisters they’d given him.
“What?” Diomedes asked, squinting in the direction she was pointing. They were still walking alongside the impassable wall of vegetation entangled in the trees, but there was a break in it.
Armannii paused to look too. “It’s an opening. Perfect!”
“No,” Blanndynne said, walking toward it, but she stopped short of the break in the wall. “I mean behind this bush.” She pushed aside a few of the dark purple buds sprouting on the ends of the bush, yelping when one of them stuck her with a thorn.
“Here, let me,” Armannii said, using the end of his bow to move the flowers aside. “And it’s not poisonous if you were worried,” he muttered as he stepped closer. His posture froze as he read an inscription over a dusty stone. “How in the world did you see this?”
“What does it say?” Blanndynne asked at the same time Diomedes inquired about what it was.
“It’s a maze.” Armannii glanced up at the walls of thorns woven between the trees. “This stone marks the entrance.”
“Great,” Diomedes said, shrugging. “And the pen wants us to go in it?”
“Pretty sure it’s what we came for,” Armannii said, pointing to the stone. “It says: To my love, Raylee. May you be safer in death than in life. Then it says there are woes and death to all who seek to disrupt her sleep. Guess whoever made this was a little protective.”
“What?” Diomedes joined Armannii in front of the stone. His heart raced faster as he read the words for himself. “Who wrote this?”
“Apparently, someone who loved her very much,” Blanndynne said. She stood at the entrance to the maze, staring down the first path.
“Enough to build a labyrinth around what I assume is her grave. And whoever built it chose a good location for it. We’re nearly in the uncharted area up north.” Armannii stepped next to Blanndynne, glancing down at her. “Nice find.”
Diomedes’s eyes glazed over as he looked at the entrance to the maze. His mind was elsewhere. He had read no mention of Raylee being betrothed to another person despite having been at marrying age when she died. In fact, all of the history books he had studied never failed to mention she had refused every man her father had brought to marry her. She had died alone. Unless she hadn’t.
“That’s it,” he said, a grin spreading across his face.
“What?” Armannii asked, glancing back at him.
“I have a theory, but we aren’t going to be able to confirm it until we get her remains and speak with her.”
“You want to go in this maze?” Blanndynne asked, her eyes widening. “Didn’t you read the inscription?”
“So it mentions a warning to all who enter.” Diomedes lifted his hand to point to the inscription. “It says the maze is protecting her. That means we have to go in.”
“It’s dangerous.” Blanndynne crossed her arms over her chest.
“Sounds like fun,” Armannii said, a grin plastered on his face. “Count me in.”
“The warning is about death,” she said. “And what happened to your cautious side?” Blanndynne asked Armannii.
“I can face the creatures in the Dark. It’s the people you have to worry about.” Armannii shrugged off her question.
Diomedes pulled out his sword, gripping it with both hands. “You can’t die, Blanndynne. Well, unless something unfortunate happens with that bracelet you bought. But you can stay out here. Either way, Armannii and I are going in.”
“There are worse things than death. And besides, your deaths are what I’m worried about.” Her voice rose an octave. “Not mine.”
“Aw, I’m flattered,” Armannii said. “It’s nice to know someone cares.”
“It’s not a joke.” Blanndynne narrowed her eyes at him. “There’s no telling what could be in there. Whoever made this maze did so with magic.”
“That’s what makes it exciting.” Armannii pulled an arrow out of his quiver. “Come on, B. You don’t want to have a little adventure?”
Blanndynne pressed her lips together. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“We don’t have a choice. That’s where the pen is leading.” Diomedes glanced at Armannii for confirmation, and the elf nodded. “All right, then let’s go.” Diomedes started into the maze before Blanndynne could protest anymore. Only Armannii followed him.
For some reason, the thought of not entering the maze—of giving up without finding Raylee’s grave—did not even register in Diomedes’s mind. Instead, he heard his sister’s voice. If he didn’t find a peaceful way to end the war, if he came back to his father empty-handed, there was a chance he could be disinherited. And then what? There was no backup plan. The only option was to keep going.
The walls towered at least six feet above the tops of their heads, entwining with the branches above. Somehow, it seemed darker in the maze, even with the sight rune glasses. The ambient noise of the forest petered out as soon as they entered. It was as if the hedges blocked out the sounds of the outside world. If there’d been light shining down from a bright warm sun, it might’ve been peaceful like the easy-to-navigate hedges in the royal gardens back in Cyanthia. But the darkness and the creeping vines above them made the silence eerie, and Diomedes shivered.
The smell of the vegetation increased in the maze, earthy and moist. But at least the sulfur smell had dissipated. A perfume-like scent covered over the earthy tones, and Diomedes turned up his nose. He hoped it wouldn’t last long, as it was already giving him a headache after only a few seconds.
Armannii followed behind him, but before they got to the first intersection, Blanndynne’s hurried footsteps caught up with them.
“Glad you decided to join,” Armannii said, letting her go in between him and Diomedes.
“Someone needs to make sure you two don’t do anything foolish.” Blanndynne huffed as she pulled out a throwing-knife.
“Left or right?” Diomedes asked, his mind too focused on the possibility of finding Raylee to care much about Blanndynne’s entrance into the maze.
“Doesn’t matter,” Armannii said, earning a curious look from Diomedes. “As long as you make the same turn every time the opportunity presents itself. If you go left, always go left. If you go right, do the same for the rest of the maze. That way you don’t get lost.”
Chuckling as he shook his head, Diomedes grinned at Armannii. “As idiotic as you can be, you definitely have some good ideas once in a while.”
Armannii dipped into a fake bow. “Thank you for such kind words. I’m touched.”
Diomedes turned back around, peering down the left path first, then the right. They looked the same—dark and ominous. With a shrug, Diomedes chose the left corridor. He held his sword with both hands, though part of him wondered if it would be easier to see holding the light rune stone with one hand. He decided against it, knowing the light would also make him a clearer target. For what, he did not know.
“Watch out for traps,” Armannii said from the back. “They could be on the ground or even above you.”
“That’s great advice, except I don’t know what I’m looking for.” Diomedes caught himself scanning the ground before taking another step.
“If Blanndynne’s right in saying the person who made this maze had magic—”
“I am,” Blanndynne said.
“Then I’d watch for runes.”
“What kind of runes?” Diomedes asked, his gaze roaming the thorny walls for any sign of magic writing.
Armannii clicked his tongue. “Could be anything from runes that make you blind to runes that will paralyze you where you stand. Honestly, I can think of at least a hundred runes I’d put in a maze like this.”
“No surprise there,” Diomedes muttered as he took another left.
“It’s different,” Blanndynne said, her voice soft. “The person who made this did it for the woman he loved. It’s not the same as creating a maze just to torture other people.”
“Believe me. I know,” Armannii replied, his voice equally as soft. His words carried none of his usual confidence.
When Diomedes cast a glance back at Armannii, the elf’s jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed at the ground. Diomedes raised an eyebrow.
Armannii said nothing, shaking his head. Before Diomedes could comment on his friend’s strange behavior, Armannii pushed past him and continued down the maze.
“What’s wrong with him?” Blanndynne asked, keeping in step with Diomedes as they followed Armannii.
Tightening his grip on his sword, Diomedes shook his head. “I have no idea.”
In their years of friendship, Diomedes had seen Armannii react the same way every once in a while. It was like a lever had been pulled, changing his attitude in the blink of an eye.
“Did I say something wrong?” Blanndynne asked.
“I don’t think it had anything to do with you.”
“I hope not,” she said, her voice petering off. “I—” Blanndynne didn’t finish her next statement because Armannii had stopped around the next corner. He stood with his feet shoulder distance apart, the bow in one hand and an arrow in the other.
“What happened?” Diomedes asked, but Blanndynne grabbed his wrist before he could take another step forward. “What?” he asked her.
“He’s shaking,” she whispered, pointing to him. Sure enough, Armannii’s entire body vibrated. “And look.”
Diomedes squinted in the direction she indicated. Partially covered by Armannii’s boot was a rune glowing a faint red. He didn’t recognize it.
“Figures he mentions the rune traps and then sets one off,” Diomedes said, biting the inside of his lip as he frowned at Armannii. “You don’t happen to know which one it is, do you?”
Blanndynne shook her head. “I don’t know rune magic.”
“I don’t recognize it either.” Diomedes pulled his wrist from Blanndynne’s grip, squatting down near the rune. He didn’t dare touch it, nor did he touch Armannii. He did, however, walk around to face his friend.
Armannii’s face, like the rest of him, had frozen. His eyes were wide with his eyebrows raised high and his mouth partially open. But what startled Diomedes the most were the crystal tears creeping down his cheeks. Diomedes waved a hand back and forth in front of his friend’s face, but Armannii didn’t even blink.
“Can you hear me?” Diomedes tested with no result.
“It’s like he’s stuck in his head,” Blanndynne said as she joined Diomedes.
Diomedes nodded. “I wonder if it’s directly tied to the rune he’s standing on.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he doesn’t seem to have control over his body, and I wonder if that’s because his foot is still on the rune.”
“You think he’ll snap out of it if we move him?” Blanndynne asked.
“I honestly don’t know, but it’s the only thing I can think of to try. Here,” he said, handing her his sword. Diomedes went around to the back of Armannii. “I’m going to tackle him.”
“And if you get frozen too?” Blanndynne asked, worry creeping into her voice.
“I guess you should start brainstorming some spells that might work. But let’s try this first.”
Diomedes rolled up his sleeves, took a deep breath, and then lunged toward Armannii. For a split second, when he first made contact with his friend, he saw a clear image of a young boy with short brown hair and tears streaming down his face. But the image disappeared as he and Armannii hit the ground at Blanndynne’s feet.
Groaning, Diomedes sat back on his knees, straightening the glasses, which had gone crooked upon impact. Armannii sucked in a breath beside him, panting like he had been underwater.
“Thank . . . you,” Armannii sputtered, pushing up until he was sitting on his knees too. He rubbed his face with both hands, clearing away any evidence of moisture, then adjusted a string he kept with a dull arrowhead around his neck.
Blanndynne handed Diomedes his sword back when he stood up before she knelt down next to Armannii. “Are you all right? What did the rune do to you?”
Armannii shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s what most people call a mind trap.”
“Let me guess,” Diomedes said. “It traps you in your mind.”
“Yes. And in some cases, they can be tied to good memories. But most mind traps are used as a way to incapacitate the victim, freezing their body while their mind is forced to relive their worst ones.” Armannii cleared his throat, straightening his vest. Except for the tension in his jaw, Armannii had all but put himself back together, like the rune had never happened. “The rune I gave you to get in and out of the castle is a much weaker variation of the one I just stepped on. It doesn’t trap a person in a memory, just wipes them of their conscious thoughts for a little while. And let me just say, I definitely prefer that.” Armannii stood up, clearing his throat.
“Are you going to be okay?” Blanndynne asked, standing up next to him.
“We should keep going,” Armannii said, clearly avoiding her question. “And I’d recommend watching where you step.” He bent over to pick up his bow and arrow, which he had dropped when he fell.
Diomedes didn’t argue, taking the lead again. With each intersection, Diomedes took the left one. The perfume smell had faded, replaced by the scent of dirt and foliage. But unlike in the gardens in Cyanthia, the scent was almost overwhelming, like each breath Diomedes took was filled with dirt, and each exhale carried moistened leaves with it.
A thin layer of sweat had started to form on the back of his neck. With the hedge walls blocking any source of wind, the temperature began to rise, and Diomedes made the other two pause as he removed his cloak and shoved it in his bag. But even then, he still sweated. With the bandage still wrapped around his side, it felt like he was wearing two layers of clothing instead of just one, and part of him wanted to remove his tunic after a while. He didn’t, but the desire hovered there for quite a while.
They didn’t speak often, listening instead for any threatening sounds, of which they’d heard none thus far. Still, any time they did speak, it was in brief sentences, and the eerie silence of the maze would surround them again soon after.
Diomedes began to wonder how many traps they had passed without setting them off.
A whooshing noise surrounded him, filling his ears until he thought he would go deaf. He bent over, dropping his sword to cover his ears; however, even with the thin protection his hands offered, the sound was still deafening. It almost seemed to come from within him. His knees went weak, and his entire equilibrium went off-kilter.
Time became irrelevant. All that mattered was making the noise stop, yet he could do nothing but cower. The noise overwhelmed his mind until all he could hear, think, and sense was the powerful rushing sound.
Then silence.
It had worked. He was deaf.
The maze spun around him, and he thought he might be sick as soon as his eyes opened. His cheeks were wet, though he didn’t remember crying.
“Didi? Diomedes?” Someone shook him. “Can you hear me?”
Hear? How could he hear? The trap had taken that from him. But he could hear, and the longer he lay in the fetal position, the more he remembered what had just happened.
“I’m fine,” Diomedes finally said, rubbing his temple as he sat up. His own voice sounded distant—strange. “What happened?”
“You must’ve brushed that rune with your sword,” Armannii said, pointing to a green light on a vine nearby. “It activated, and you collapsed.”
Diomedes didn’t take Blanndynne’s outstretched hand, standing up on his own. “Let’s go,” he said, picking up the weapon from the ground.
“You should wait a minute,” Blanndynne said, blocking his path. “You’re still really pale.”
“He’s always pale. Besides I can see the color returning to his cheeks already,” Armannii said, patting Diomedes on the back. “I think he’ll be okay. Right, Didi?”
“Go,” Diomedes spat. It took him a minute to understand where his frustration was coming from. He had been so careful, watching the ground, yet he had failed. Humiliating.