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Now…I begin to move.
Chapter 3
Will I wake up when I hit the ground? Or can I die here?
ZENYA
“Falling in the Black” by Skillet
“Her Name is Alice” by Shinedown
I’ll never escape.
Penrose steps—all black and iron—ever shift and move in a twisted, ominous rhythm like the beating of a heart.
With his black cape brushing my bare toes, I follow Nyxion.
Random passages open and close like the jaws of a beast, beckoning me forward only to vanish as I approach. Icy shadows claw at me from every corner, pushing me closer to Nyxion.
My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in the eerie silence. Dread and anticipation thicken the air, intensity between me and this dark god with his skull growing by the second. I need to stay close to him, my only compass point in this disorienting maze.
I catch a glimpse below me and choke. Empty darkness. It seems to go on forever like an oubliette. Every step is precarious.
Nyxion moves with an ethereal grace, gliding through the chaos as if it’s second nature. He reaches the crest of a staircase and steps onto another platform, leaving me on the former. Panic bolts through me as the one I stand on begins to shift to the left. Heart slamming against my chest but with sharp instincts and reflexes, I lunge off the staircase.
The one he’s on lifts higher, and a scream tears from my throat, knowing my hands won’t find the edge, much less my feet. I close my eyes as my body starts to fall—falling for the second time. I’m always falling.
I’ve been falling all my life.
Will I wake up when I hit the ground? Or can I die here?
When a strong, skeletal hand seizes my wrist, yanking my body up in a sudden and violent sweep, I collide with Nyxion. Those two black orbs focus on me as his bony fingers touch the backs of my right knuckles where tiny dream catchers are inked. The steps beneath us shift again. But my soul is frozen, caught in his gaze.
“Take hold of my robe.” His low and haunting voice sends shivers down my spine. He urges my palm to his frost-cold fabric. I obey. “Do not let go,” he warns, the words hanging in the air like a noose before he turns again.
Swallowing a hard knot, I stumble after him, my senses bombarded by the shifting architecture and the relentless, grasping shadows. Dizzy and confused, I cling to his shadowy robe and focus on his presence, a dark beacon guiding me through the madness.
As soon as a wall caves in, unveiling a passage, Nyxion embarks inside. I sink my clenched hand in to find strong muscle. A gasp leaves my throat when that muscle moves, giving me the barest brush of a curve and a…talon. Wings?
I don’t have time to ponder before the passage slams shut behind me like the pages of a book closing.
At the sight of a long passageway, I let out a deep sigh. No more crazy stairs. But now I want a Penrose tattoo. There’s a little patch of bare skin between the gold and black seraph wings on my back. Maybe I could get it there.
I still don’t let go of Nyxion.
The passage seems to go on for infinity. So dark—like a yawning mouth ready to close around me forever.
“What is this place?” I whisper in the stillness.
“My domain,” he says without turning.
I consider a quip about him being the King of Vague and Ominous Comments, but for all I know, he’s a vampire who could suck the marrow from my bones. And I’d like my marrow to stay in my bones.
“No, I won’t be sucking your marrow, little killer. But I will have you on your prayer bones worshiping me soon enough.”
Unless I jump your bones first. I smirk. No idea why I just thought that. Really hoping he didn’t hear it.
“I did.”
