"Tell me, pretty lady, are you afraid of death?" The man clutched her tresses even tighter and pulled back, exposing her delicate neck.
Shortly after the roar that had caused an arising in Zain's skin, the man appeared out of nowhere, seemingly traveling through the labyrinth walls. Dirty pants were the only bit of clothing the man wore; otherwise his feet were bare and his chest full of tattoos. On his right cheek was a symbol branded into his skin—a circle with an equilateral triangle inside.
Is another person going to die because of me? Zain approached, inch by inch. Gabrielle had lost her rapier sometime during the battle that ensued after he appeared. With his left hand, he dragged it up along his Gazo's uniform to the knife pocket strapped to his chest.
"It has been years since a woman has entered this labyrinth. I am going to slit your throat, then savor every crevice while you die, and then eat you. I can tell you will taste good." A long, blood-red tongue licked Gabrielle's neck as if she was food. "Your boyfriend there will watch it all." The man laughed and looked at Zain with those inhuman black eyes—eyes that had become as black as the clouds above them.
The man brought his sword to Gabrielle's throat. It was no normal blade though; it had teeth like a chainsaw—not meant for slashing, but for digging and dragging. Zain's eyes darted back and forth between the sword and Gabrielle's eyes. She was panting, but she didn't struggle. He unbuttoned the pocket where his knife was. He would only have one chance. He grabbed the hilt and was pulling it out when he caught sight of Gabrielle moving her right hand down her ballistic nylon one-piece. There was a flash of silver behind a fuchsia garter. Lower. And lower her hand slid.
It happened fast. Zain couldn't process it until its aftermath. From underneath her garter, Gabrielle whisked out a dagger and drove it into the man's leg. Then she tossed her head back, connecting her scalp with his jaw. Swiveling, she swept the man's legs out and pounced on him. While on the ground, Gabrielle yanked the steel from his leg and stabbed it into his chest.
The man didn't cry in agony. Instead, he laughed. She held the dagger with both hands above her head. He continued to laugh. So Gabrielle stabbed him again. The harder and more raucously he laughed, the greater and more intense were her stabs. A fountain of blood spewed up onto her face and clothes.
What is going on? Zain ran to her.
The laughing slowly ceased, as did his smile, now just a grim line. "I can finally see . . . my family . . . again. . . . Brother, I will wait for you. . . ." His arms went limp.
Gabrielle stopped stabbing. The black eyes turned dark blue. She let go of the dagger and collapsed to her hands and knees. Zain heard her pants. He knelt beside her. She grabbed her dagger again and used her arm to wipe her face. His arm slid over her shoulder; at his touch, she pushed him back and held the steel up to his throat.
"Gabrielle, it's me. Just me."
She dropped the weapon and slunk back. Her shoulders heaved up and down for only a little while, then she regained composure. "Why didn't you do anyzing?"
"I . . . I was going to . . ."
"To wait 'til he slit my throat?"
No. Zain dropped his sword and clenched both fists. He shook his head.
"Zen what?"
Zain looked at Gabrielle. Her blue eyes searched his for an answer.
"I was afraid I was going to kill you too."
"Better you zan him." Gabrielle stood, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and crossed her arms.
Zain buried his face into his hands.
"I'm going to find my sword. It's somewhere back zere."
The subsiding sound of her squishing steps is how Zain knew she left. He looked to the sky and let the rain mask his tears. It couldn't hide his guilt though. Why? I couldn't even save her. Am I even meant to be here? He slammed his left fist onto the muddy ground and looked at the lifeless man. Blood ran from underneath him. Zain found it strange that this is what death looked like. (Even though he had caused two. Now, nearly three.)
He noticed Gabrielle come around the bend again, sword in hand. "Let's leave."
How is she able to stay strong? Zain picked up his sword and got to his feet, following Gabrielle. Torches lit their way, since the suns still refused to show. Zain had a slight limp, but he wouldn't let it slow him. If he could do anything for their team, it would be to continue going.
She has never killed anyone before. She just did. But not someone close to her. Zain's psyche battled within itself. The once navy-blue ballistic nylon armor was now brown with mud and wet with rain. If she had been affected in any way, she didn't show it.
"Listen, Gabrielle . . . I'm . . . I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Is zat all? Would you still be apologizing to me if I was lying on za ground, raped and killed?"
"I . . . I . . ." Zain couldn't finish his thought. "What do you want from me?"
"I want you to stop feeling sorry for yourself, and start acting, not reacting."
Before he knew what was happening, Zain was pushed up against the sandstone wall. Gabrielle forced her dagger to his throat, letting the blunt side tickle his skin.
"How do you feel right now?" Gabrielle looked into his eyes. "You're scared. Well, stop being scared. Zere are zings worse zan deaz."
Zain gulped. He became cross-eyed as he tried to keep focus on the blade. "Like what?" He looked back into her dark-blue eyes filled with lost agony.
"Like pain . . . and hopelessness . . . and futility . . ." She took the dagger away from his throat and put it back underneath her garter. Her face held drops of red, unaffected by the rain or her tears. A warrior's mark.
Zain thought about what just happened. She's hiding something. Zain could sense some hidden pain within her.
She turned away from him. "Now where do you zink zis scroll is?"
He pushed himself off the wall and stood beside her. "It has to be in the center chamber. Accessible to every contestant."
"Do you zink zis chamber is close?"
"With any fortune, it will be."
"We should hurry. Or zey will beat us." She sounded strong—the type of woman who was independent.
Zain nodded, and for the first time, he led the way. Ever since the awful roar, torches held by sconces had continued to light their way through the maze, even through the rain. Minutes of navigating countless winding paths led them to a long, singular hallway. In the distance, Zain saw two figures—a large man with a shaved pate and Hydro.
"Gabrielle, look." Zain pointed, and they crept closer.
The prince flailed in midair, as the man had picked him up with only one arm—there was no other arm. In front of Hydro was a strange, unfamiliar device. It served as a surrogate for the left limb, resembling a giant metal pincher with a smaller one in between its claws. A black orb hovered within the inferior pincher like a piece of anitron.
Zain kept his back to the wall but continued forward. Gabrielle slid against the wall in front of him. The stealth tactic didn't work, for ten paces from the chamber, the large man turned his head and snickered. He held the same cruel black eyes of the man before.
The distraction, however slight, allowed Hydro an opportunity to withdraw his sword and slice at the man's exposed chest. The bald man reeled back as blood spurted from his body, branding him with a sick hiss. Out of instinct, the bald man swung his pincher, knocking Hydro clear across the chamber with superior force. The giant regained his composure. "None of you may have our prize."
Was he talking about the scroll? Zain spotted a white tomb in the back of the labyrinth. It was partially opened. Had Hydro already seen its contents?
"All we want is the scroll!" Zain yelled.
"Lies! Everyone who enters covets our necklace."
Gabrielle tapped Zain's shoulder and pointed toward the giant's midsection. "Look at his chest; it's zat symbol ze ozer man carried."
Zain recognized it now. What did it mean?
The man followed their curious gazes. "You like? It's very special. It grants me the ability to do this." He aimed his pincer device toward them. The black ball grew in size. The man's lips twisted upwards, exposing a row of yellow-stained teeth.
Zain froze. The ball of black sped toward them. His heartbeat quickened. Life didn't flash before him . . . only Gabrielle's words: pain, hopelessness, and futility. He looked at her and charged, hoping to avoid the blast. He grabbed her waist just when his own was shot with pain. Warm, electric, and powerful pain. A deafening crack sounded as they hit the slab of sandstone behind them. Zain blinked. Dust scattered his vision. Pain shattered his thoughts. Where is Gabrielle? He looked back to see her lying sideways in the muddle, entombed by pieces of rubble.
The ballistic nylon had done its job in protecting her body, but blood marred her hands, neck, and face. Blood crept from Zain's side and from cuts on his face where sandstone debris hit him. Adrenaline told him to ignore it though. So he listened. And he focused on her.
"Gabrielle . . ." Zain shook her. "Gabrielle . . ." She didn't stir. Her blue eyes never fluttered. He put his fingers to her throat. She was alive, just unconscious.
Rage boiled amid his watery eyes. Stop reacting and act. . . . Zain punched the floor and unsheathed his sword. He turned around and saw Hydro in combat with the bald man; he was barely holding his own. Zain stormed ahead.
When knocked onto his back, Hydro rolled gracefully to stand again. He turned his gaze toward Zain. "I hope you can last more than seven minutes this time."
"The battle won't even take that long," Zain spat. He charged his adversary; the man raised his hand and muttered a foreign word. A pillar of earth shot up from the ground, but Zain sidestepped it and swung his sword, meeting the man's pincer. Slash. Strike. Duck. Lunge. It was a constant sway of defensive and offensive maneuvers that only succeeded in a stalemate. Normally Zain would have thrown punches too, but the man's extremity forced him to keep his distance.
At one point, the man jumped back and put his fist to the ground, creating a large pillar of earth that blocked both Hydro and Zain. It collapsed soon after, and a large, black orb sped their way. Zain felt Hydro's hand tug him back by the shirt, pulling him out of the orb's trajectory. The blast's residual impact still managed to send them back toward one of the chamber walls.
His ribs throbbed, but his pride had never hurt more. The prince even has to save me. Rubble coated his body, and through dust and confusion, the man's voice taunted them. "You cannot handle the power of the necklace. No one can."
Closer. The man strode closer. The orb grew larger. This was it. Zain kept his eyes open; he always would in the face of death. That's how one's soul found its way to Axiumé.
Abruptly the man stopped and turned his attention to the other passageway. Eirek stood there. Alone. This is my chance. Zain tossed the rubble off his body and rose to his feet. Hydro followed suit. Zain ran the opposite direction as Hydro charged the man. When a sick hiss—like the branding of skin—resounded throughout the chamber, Zain knew Hydro had wounded the man.
Zain was close now. Just a few more feet. What is so special about this necklace? Zain recalled the man before mentioning it when he was taunting and stalking them in the labyrinth. The tomb creaked as Zain pushed the bone-white top farther open. There was no corpse inside—only a pedestal, and on it, a necklace of three golden triangles sat. The outer perimeter was a circle of black, thick scales—like dragon scales. They shined like one of his father's jewels. A female voice called to him. Don't you want to see Ava again? Wear me and I'll show you how. Zain stepped back and shook his head but then stepped forward. No one should be denied. Her voice enthralled Zain, causing all of his other thoughts and concerns to vanish.
"Zain, look out!" Eirek yelled.
A faint hum followed. Zain turned around and threw himself to the ground and covered his head and neck. The tomb shattered into slabs and shards, raining over the chamber in a white cloud. The necklace appeared to be gone. He pivoted on his belly, scanning the floor. How can I see Ava?
The man advanced toward Zain, who began to crawl away, ignoring his new foe. Where is Hydro? But by the time Zain got to his feet, the pincer connected with his body and threw him back against a wall. Pain thundered against every one of his nerves. He scrambled, but a kick came to his stomach, adding to his injuries. He thought he felt ribs crack, even behind the steel plate in his side—the one he had received after Ava's death when a boulder nearly crushed him, forcing him to lose his grip and let go of the only thing he had been certain of.
Zain turned around on his elbows; he had lost control of his sword in the blast. Hopelessness entered him with each exasperated gasp for air. Even though he noticed movement across the chamber, there was nothing for him now. Eirek was approaching the man slowly, not fast enough to save Zain. And Hydro scrambled for the necklace that had landed near the chamber's center.
Zain was unable to stand. Hydro grabbed the necklace. Zain spat out blood and reached with his hand. That's mine . . . All he could do was look at the man's inhuman black eyes—the pincer in the orb grew even larger—a futility crept into him then, so very cold.