He was hanging onto the wall above her and she’d have to get past him if she wanted to get to Emma. Without pausing, she made to force her way past him.
“Allyra!” He said more forcefully, “Don’t listen to it.”
He was trying to play tricks with her mind. She shook her head – this was a trick. She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust anyone.
“Why would this Emma be here?” Pierre continued, his voice calm and steady. “You’re only hearing things the tunnels want you to hear. Remember, trust only the Gift.”
“So I shouldn’t trust you.” Allyra replied through gritted teeth, trying to ignore Emma’s heart-rending screams reverberating in her head.
He made a good attempt at a shrug, given he was hanging onto the side of a wall. “I don’t care if you trust me or not.”
Allyra took a deep breath. Maybe that was what the fiery words at the entrance of the tunnels had been trying to tell her – nothing could be trusted within these tunnels, nothing except your own Gift.
As soon as she came to that realization, Emma’s screams faded away and silence settled around her again with the occasional grunt of exertion from Pierre above her. She refocused her attention on getting to the top of the climb and started moving again.
Being lighter than Pierre while also willing to take more risks, it didn’t take long for her to pass him and a few minutes after that she pulled herself over the lip of the wall and collapsed, panting desperately.
Her shoulders burned with the exertion, the heat and pain spiraling down her back and into her legs. She allowed herself a couple of minutes of stillness before forcing her quaking legs to take her weight.
She peered down towards Pierre, who was still making his way up slowly and carefully, testing each grip before trusting his weight to it. Her breathing was still harsh, but in the new stillness she heard another noise – the grating of rock over rock – the warning that the tunnels were moving again.
“Hurry!” She screamed at Pierre. He looked up at her in confusion, before glancing over his shoulder. Understanding dawned over his face and his initial confusion was quickly replaced by terror. He pushed upwards, but in his haste, the rock crumbled under his fingers and he slipped backwards.
Without thinking, she launched herself over the edge, latching onto him by the barest of fingertips. It took all of her Gifted strength to pull him over the top and seconds later rock crashed into the wall face.
“God.” Pierre said, his breathing coming out in harsh gasps. “God.”
He then reverted back to his native language of Afrikaans and let out a string of swearing, the words stringing together in a perfect flow of guttural curses.
Allyra traced her fingers along where the edge had been only moments ago, but it was smooth under her touch, almost as if it had never been at all.
“Thanks.” Pierre said, looking down at her. “I owe you.”
She shook her head, “You didn’t have to warn me to ignore the screams. If you hadn’t, I might’ve blundered into something much worse.”
Pierre shrugged his massive shoulders. “It’s only a competition – it doesn’t seem worth someone’s life.”
He was close enough that she could see the dark brown of his eyes. “But don’t trust that the others feel the same way.” He warned.
She nodded and shot him a wry smile, while getting to her feet again. They were still shaking. “I guess I better get going. Left looks good to me.”
“Thanks.” He replied gruffly. “I’ll take the right.”
Within a couple of seconds, Pierre had disappeared back into the all-pervading darkness and she was alone again. She stopped and leant back against the tunnel wall, taking another shuddering breath.
Trust only the Gift.
She closed her eyes and suddenly she realized what it meant – like within the Between, there was a silvery line guiding her, her Gift guiding her.
Following the silvery line, she moved with more confidence and her sense of disorientation eased somewhat. Slicing her way past another sentinel and dodging another couple of moving tunnel walls, Allyra soon found herself confronted with a door. It was an imposing one – made of wood, with struts held together with solid iron. As she moved toward it, more fiery writing flared into life in her eyes.
Forget me at your peril, for I have lessons to teach for what is yet unwritten.
The warning seemed clear enough, but her natural curiosity made her hesitate. She wanted to open the door, wanted to see what was behind it, but her silvery line skirted past the door, pointing her to the tunnel past the door.
The promise she’d made Alex flashed into her mind again – she had to win and to win she’d have to find her way out of these tunnels in first or second place. Other than her brief encounter with Pierre, she hadn’t run into any other competitor. She had no idea how they might be faring, but she certainly didn’t have time to linger at mysterious doorways that were really none of her business.
Quickening her pace, Allyra forced herself into a steady and silent jog. The walls continued to move, dictating her path. She allowed them to direct her, but continued to follow the silvery thread of her Gift. The black wall next to her moved, and turned her sharply left, but instead of yet another dark corridor, a dimly lit room confronted her.
She jolted to a stop, her eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden change in light. Before she managed to gain her bearings, the wall slid silently back into place behind her, cutting off any retreat.
Step by careful step, Allyra moved cautiously into the room. It was large and filled with a number of cots, low on the ground, each one a mess of blankets. As she moved amongst them, she saw they were filled with people. Not just any people, but Cleaners, with their
