Gauntlet: Chapter 4

Clio waited for several long seconds. The silence was as complete as the darkness.

Her lips pursed to form Britt’s name, but something stopped her. The idea of speaking into the black void made her shiver.

A dialogue began to play out in Clio’s thoughts. One that required she crawl forward again with careful nonchalance.

There was nothing in there with her. That was what the steady, sober voice in her mind said. She had heard an echo of her own making, or had just imagined the sound.

Don’t panic.

Another voice, insidious and sly, whispered that of course she wasn’t alone. What did she think happened to girls who went off on their own in a place like this?

No. She wouldn’t think like that–she was spooking herself. There wasn’t anyone following her. Nothing would come out of the dark and grab her trailing ankle. She wouldn’t be dragged away like some spider’s prey.

Just keep moving.

Not too fast, the sly voice whispered again. Don’t give away that you heard them, because then…then they might really come after you. They might catch you.

Clio started to move faster—not an outright scramble, but fast enough that she stirred up the stifled air. The scuffing of her boots and the slap of her hands disguised anything else that might be heard in the shaft behind her.

Her imagination provided more than enough to fill in the possibilities. And then she was scrambling, soft whimpers slipping in short bursts from her tightly pressed lips when she parted them for air. She was certain now that she heard the sounds of being followed. It had to be the frantic scuffle of crawling pursuers.

The heels of her hands burned, scraping on the rough floor of the shaft. Her knees screamed from the impact of the hard surface. But she ignored everything as she choked out breaths.

She finally reached the end. She shoved open the covering and spilled out onto the floor of the corridor.

The crashing sound of metal accompanied her graceless exit. She twisted, scrambling backwards and crab-like away from the mouth of the shaft. Run! the sane voice cried, but she was beyond hearing it. Her spine hit the wall, and she stared wild-eyed.

She waited.

After a full minute, she slumped onto her knees. Her hitched breathing finally started to even out.

She’d just freaked herself out. It wasn’t the first time. A weak chuckle forced itself out, sounding a bit too close to a sob.

Britt would make her laugh about it. Britt would definitely laugh at her, but somehow the thought of that didn’t sound unappealing. For the first time since she stormed off, Clio began to regret her impulsive actions. She’d give anything to have Britt with her in that moment.

But the whole length of the service shaft–not to mention several derelict wings–now stood between her and Britt.

Clio groaned. How stupid could she be?

She stood slowly, her knees complaining as she unfolded them. Returning was beginning to sound pretty good, but the shaft was like a dark, blank eye pinning her to the spot.

There was no sense pretending–she didn’t think she could make herself crawl back into it yet. Or ever.

“Anyway,” she breathed, trying to console her pride. “I’ve come all this way.” As long as she was there, she had to try one more time.

Even without the map, it was easy enough to retrace her steps to the point where she’d brought Britt and Lilah. Half an hour later, she stood in front of the metal door that had thwarted them.

Her stomach plummeted. A knocker had been added to the once unadorned façade. The heart-shaped brass fixture had an aged patina…and looked as if it had been in place forever.

Her fingers trembled as she lifted the heavy metal and, with breathless anticipation, banged it three times against the door. The sound echoed in the empty hallway.

Nothing happened.

On the sweep of disappointment, she took up the knocker and pounded it against the door again and again. Her other fist pummeled the door in tandem until she collapsed, angry and spent against the unyielding surface.

A curse died on her lips when she saw the small depression in the center of the heart. The heart shape was mirrored there, a smaller version, just about the size of…

Clio gasped and lifted her wrist up. The heart-shaped charm would fit perfectly in the groove of the knocker’s surface. She fumbled with the bracelet, clumsy fingers working the small charm off the link.

Oh, God. Could it be that easy? It had to be a trick, just like everything else.

Except it wasn’t.

The charm slid smoothly into place. For a moment, disappointment threatened to crash through her when the door remained closed. Then she held her breath and briskly knocked again.

The heavy metal door swung inward. Tears sprang to Clio’s eyes.

This was it. The short corridor that led to the theater’s secret entrance and the way out.

Clio bit her lip. Britt would probably come looking for her. If Clio left the door like this, then Britt could find her way out, too. She’d seen the map. Clio barely considered Lilah, except to wonder if the woman would truly choose to stay if an exit was staring her in the face.

Clio stepped across the threshold, one hand resting on the door, the other on the frame.

But…she knew the door might not stay open, whether she left her charm or not. It probably wouldn’t, if she was still being honest with herself.

Britt would never know what happened to her. Britt might never come close to another exit like this.

A sick feeling pooled in Clio’s belly. If she didn’t take her own chance now…well, she’d already seen what happened in that situation.

“Shit,” Clio hissed, the unaccustomed vulgarity coming out flat.

Clio almost went on, but one of the voices in her head came back. This time, it sounded like Britt.

I’m not gonna abandon you.

Clio heaved a sigh. It felt angry in her chest.

“Fine,” she told the knocker as she pried the charm out of the core. “I’m going to get her. We’re going to be right back. And you’ll be right here waiting.”

The charm popped out. Clio caught it in her palm as the door swung toward her with inexorable force, pushing her rudely into the hallway.

She looked at the door for a moment longer, then dropped her gaze to the miniature heart in her hand. Her fingers curled slowly around it until it was hidden from view.

Clio ran.

Her side ached with a slight stich before she got all the way back to the service shaft. She slowed to a jog before she turned a corner.

And collided with Britt. They both hit the floor hard.

“Clio?!”

Clio didn’t spare a breath for her excited surprise. She sprang up right away, barely noticing Lilah–who stood, mouth open, a few feet away.

“Get up!” Clio cried. “I got the door open! We have to get back now!”

Clio grabbed Britt’s hand and hauled her to her feet. Britt shook her head in what looked like shock and relief.

“Are you okay?” Britt asked.

“I’m fine!” Clio tugged at her. “The door!”

“It’s really open?” Lilah asked.

“Yes! Or…well, it was. I can open it again. I used my heart charm.” Clio uncurled her hand, which had clutched the charm in a white-knuckled grip.

Britt watched her with an expression Clio couldn’t read. It made Clio uncomfortable, but she was too anxious to get back to the door–before it could disappear or be altered or otherwise block the exit.

“Come on!”

Britt exchanged a glance with Lilah, but didn’t resist when Clio pulled her onward.

“You got the door open?”

“Yes!” Clio frowned. “How many times do I have to say it?!”

“But you didn’t go through it.”

“Duh.”

Clio picked up the pace, hoping to spur Britt and Lilah. They were both acting like they didn’t get that this was it.

Maybe they were just shell-shocked. Clio had to admit that the idea of freedom was a heady thrill, especially now that Britt was with her.

“Clio.” Britt’s voice had lost some its usual confidence. She pulled back at Clio’s arm, forcing Clio to stop.

Clio whipped around in irritation. “What?” she demanded.

Britt pulled her necklace over her head. She held it out at Clio, letting the small die swing back and forth.

“Here.”

Clio’s eyebrows drew together. “What?”

“Take it,” Britt insisted.

Clio’s eyes flew wide. “But that’s your–“

“I want you to have it. I’m…sorry. About earlier. You were upset, and I didn’t really help things. And…what you said–“ Britt shrugged and pushed the necklace at Clio’s open hand. “I do want out. I want us to get out together. And I like you, all right? So…” This last declaration was accompanied by an uncomfortable shift and eye-roll, but Clio was dumbfounded.

Clio stared at the necklace.

“I can’t take–“

With a clipped mutter, Britt forced the necklace over Clio’s head. The weight of the die settled below the hollow of Clio’s throat.

Clio touched it tentatively. Lilah looked on with a veiled expression, but Britt seemed satisfied.

“Let’s go.”

Britt took off down the hallway. After a couple of seconds, Clio followed with Lilah behind her. Clio watched Britt’s long legs propel her around a corner.

Britt’s yell gutted Clio as Clio turned the corner herself.

The thud of pounding boots filled the air as a sea of black-clad, faceless prowlers surged into the corridor. Britt was already in their midst, surrounded on all sides–only flashes of her white t-shirt peeked out through the hands and bodies that hopelessly outnumbered her.

Clio was only allowed a split second before Lilah yanked her back around the corner. Clio opened her mouth to scream Britt’s name, but Lilah’s hand clamped over her lips with surprising strength.

Clio struggled as Lilah dragged her back down the hall. Her tenacious grip tightened as the lights in the wing went dark.

A door opened. Clio was jerked back; she felt the displacement of air as the door whispered shut in front of her face.

“Shut up,” Lilah hissed before she pulled her hand from Clio’s mouth. She kept her other grip tight around Clio’s wrist. “You can’t help her right now.”

“We have to help her!” Clio hissed back.

“You really want to risk it?”

“Yes!”

Things had happened too quickly for full terror to kick in, and Clio’s pulse was racing madly. This couldn’t be happening again. Not when they were so close to getting out.

Clio pulled furiously at Lilah’s grip. “Let go of me!”

Wherever they were, heavy footfalls and shouts bled through the door. Lilah didn’t let go. She was silent a moment, but then Clio felt Lilah’s bangs brush against her face.

“I know how to help her,” Lilah murmured.

“Then tell me how!”

“I’ll do it on my own. It’s easier that way.” Lilah paused.  “But first…I want your charm.”

Clio’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“You heard me. I want the charm that opens the door.”

“But…we can all–“

“There’s not a lot of time,” Lilah said coolly. “Make your choice.”

Clio opened her mouth, but only a shaky breath filled the darkness between them. Her fingers crept up to the new necklace she wore.

Why had Britt given it to her? It made no sense. Now…now she would be truly lost in this awful place, if she didn’t have her own talisman to get her through.

Why, Britt?

To prove herself? To prove her friendship? Because Britt had thought they were about to escape?

Could Clio really give up her own talisman to Lilah? She’d never fully trusted the woman.

The darkness was a blessing. Clio didn’t know what her face looked like, but she definitely didn’t want Lilah to see it. The charm cut into Clio’s palm as her fist tightened.

“You…you promise you can help her?” Clio whispered.

“Yes.”

A sense of inevitability washed over Clio. Somehow, it didn’t make her despair.

A stubborn little flame inside her flared–or maybe it was just bitter determination not to give in. There had to be another way out. Nothing was perfect…not even the Gauntlet.

And if she got Britt back, they could find another way out later. Just like this door had shown up. Getting out alone, without Britt, would be just the same as losing. The exit wouldn’t be a win. And Clio wanted to win.

Clio’s fingers slowly uncurled. In the dark, she found Lilah’s hand.

It was less difficult than she expected to hand the charm over. This was all just a game, after all. A hollow laugh escaped her.

“What’s so funny, Clio?” There was curiosity in Lilah’s voice, layered over something else. Mocking amusement, maybe, that she couldn’t conceal.

Clio really hoped she had done the right thing. But she still hadn’t figured out the rules, if there were any.

“Easy come, easy go,” she said by way of an answer.

“You’re finally getting it.” Lilah laughed softly. “In fact, you hit the nail on the head.”

Something clicked behind Clio, and a wash of warmer air enveloped her. Lilah’s hand planted against Clio’s chest and shoved hard.

Clio tumbled backward and fell into darkness.

***

The sweet scent was overpowering. Lovely, but almost too fragrant. It made Clio’s nose itch.

Clio unwillingly exerted the effort to rub the back of her hand across her nose. Something brushed against her fingers, and the cloying scent intensified.

Her eyes blinked open into a soft green world. Long vines were entwined above her head, sprinkled with petite white and yellow flowers. One such strand dangled just above her face, responsible for the tickle that had woken her.

Dappled sunlight made Clio squint, though it was a hazy light she quickly adjusted to. Mindful of the headache that throbbed as soon as she sat up, Clio scanned her environment. An amazing realization finally penetrated.

She was outside. Not in some crumbling little courtyard, but truly outside.

Grass grew thickly beneath her. The sky stretched broad and blue above, and for some reason, she was napping under a verdant tangle of honeysuckle. A cobblestone road wound its way between two rows of buildings that had at some point fallen into mild, picturesque decay. Masses of ivy clung to the walls. The gentle deterioration and silence spoke to the buildings’ deserted state. Only the hum of insects disturbed the quiet.

Clio put a hand to her forehead. The skin was warm, but not hot. The ache throbbed and spread at the base of her skull.

Lilah had pushed her. She had fallen down a shaft, through a spray of some sort of gas that had hissed out, moist and cool. She couldn’t remember after that.

But here she was. She twisted around, wincing at the bright flare of pain. There, behind a dangling mass of vines, was a small door.

Locked, of course.

Her fingers caressed the rusty ironwork. Had she tumbled out of that? She gave a short laugh. The Gauntlet’s back door was much less imposing than the front.

Her smile faded into a rueful twist. She wasn’t getting back in this way. Her lips pressed into a thin line. What was Lilah’s game, really? She could only hope Lilah would keep her word about Britt, because there wasn’t anything Clio could do to help her right now.

Clio touched Britt’s necklace again. Britt had given it to her just before the attack…almost as if she’d known what was coming. Maybe she had. Clio’s chest tightened.

“I’ll come back for you, Britt,” Clio promised softly. “No matter what.” She didn’t know how, but nothing seemed impossible now.

She was out.

Clio climbed to her feet. She staggered around like a frail old lady.

She was out. Clio spread her arms wide and breathed in the scent of the honeysuckle. The light breeze teased her hair.

Clio spun slowly until her gaze hit a crumbling mosaic on the wall, high above the small door. A girl in a foolscap slept under the flowering branch of a tree. She was watched by a figure who sat in a straight-backed chair. Male or female, Clio couldn’t tell. The sitting figure wore long robes and a featureless gold mask. A path stretched away from the sleeping girl.

The hum of the insects grew louder, driven to a momentary frenzy. Clio turned and looked at the disused road. Far in the distance, past the line of old buildings, Clio could see the hazy shadow of high walls.

Realization dragged down the brief, momentary hope that had lifted Clio’s heart. This wasn’t the city she knew. She wasn’t out.

Her breath caught at the impossible scale of what she was seeing. It was too incredible…another city. A city within her city.

A city inside the Gauntlet.

Could it exist in the midst of millions of people going about their lives? The real world, the real city, was still outside of this place, walled out by the labyrinth she’d just been shoved out of.

Wasn’t it?

Clio took a shuddering breath, a wave of dizziness bringing her hands to the warm skin of her face again. “I’m not out of it yet,” she whispered.

When the faintness passed, she stared at the mosaic a little longer. They were still watching her, and she was still their fool. The message was clear.

In a flare of defiance, Clio swallowed and shrugged.

It didn’t matter. They would do whatever they wanted, whether she agreed to it or not. But she was going to do whatever she wanted, too.

Maybe they wouldn’t like that in the end. She had more than one purpose now.

All she could do at that point was advance on their game board. Clio spared one last look at the little door for Britt, then turned her back to the wall and began to walk.

Continued in Chapter 5.

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