Labyrinth: Acropolis Series Book II (15 page)

"Emma?" a voice calls, and I instantly
recognize it as Conor.

"Here," I manage, coughing on the grit I can
feel in my mouth.

"Give me a minute," he says, and I feel the
stone shift a little, the rock above my head lifting. It's still
not enough to sit up.

"Can you crawl?" Conor asks.

I look down at my body. Nothing pins me,
there are no broken bones, and I'm not hurting from anything worse
than the fall.

"I think so," I answer back.

I scoot forward. There's a small opening in
the stone, and I crawl carefully, painstakingly slow. My cheek
burns, and it feels wet. My knees throb.

"Is everyone okay?" I call out.

There is silence from Conor's end, and my
blood runs cold.

"Conor?"

I'm near the opening now, and I reach up to
grab the stone, using it to lift me.

"I don't know," Conor finally answers, his
hands reaching through to grab my arms. I cling to him. "Bruno is
through. The roof didn't completely collapse, but it's close. I
need help to get everyone out."

I am through the hole now, my eyes landing on
Conor's grit-covered face. He lifts me carefully, his eyes
searching. When he runs a palm down the side of my cheek, and it
comes back red, I know I've skinned it pretty badly. I can feel the
pain now, and I wince.

Conor pulls his sweatshirt up over his head
before stripping off a black t-shirt. He holds it to the wound,
pulling my hand up to hold it in place before pulling the
sweatshirt back on. Behind him, Bruno is kneeling near the cavern
floor, his hand through the small space between the floor and the
stone.

"Gargoyle, I need you," Bruno says through
gritted teeth, and I know he has one of the other hybrids.

Conor moves next to him, his forehead creased
as he focuses on the stone. I turn away, my eyes on the floor. I
can feel emotions under the stone, and I grasp onto them.

"Deidra," I call out, my bruised knees coming
down to meet the rocky dampness below me. There is no answer. There
is fear under the stone, pain. I search for Ace, instinctively
knowing he has avoided the danger. I think, although I'm not sure,
that I would have felt his death had it happened. He keens from
behind me, and I look over my shoulder to find him slinking from
the darkness beyond. Somehow he has avoided the collapsed cavern
the same way Conor and Bruno has.

Conor peers over his shoulder, and I gesture
at the drex.

"I think he can help," I say.

Conor nods, and I send the drex images,
images of the stone, of him lifting it carefully. Ace moves toward
the debris and puts his nose against the rubble. I lean back down
to the floor.

"Deidra . . . Gray . . . Gwenyth . . ."

"Here."

The words are faint, and I stoop to look
beneath the stone remains. A few feet away is Gwenyth Garner. Even
in the darkness, my eyes detect the tears on her cheeks and my
heart sinks. I lower my hand through the crumbling rock.

"Crawl, Gwen," I say.

She is quiet a moment.

"My sister . . ." she breathes, the words
broken by sobs. I don't know what to say. I'm afraid to know what
Gwenyth's leaving unsaid. I'm afraid to know why Gwenyth's cheeks
are covered with tears.

"Is she with you, Gwen?" I finally ask.

There is sniffling.

"She's not moving, Em."

My breath catches, and I realize my cheeks
are wetter than they were before, Conor's t-shirt crumpled on the
stone floor next to me. Even if the scrape is still bleeding, I
know most of the wetness is from tears.

I lift my head, my eyes on Bruno and Conor as
Bruno helps a coughing Lyre from the wreckage. Conor's gaze moves
my way, and I wave at the debris. The tears are too thick to speak.
He moves toward me, kneeling carefully.

"It's Gwenyth. She says Hesther's with her
but not moving."

I choke on the last words and Conor shuts his
eyes briefly, controlling his own emotions before placing his hand
on the stone. It lifts, and I notice the effort it takes him.

"My powers are not as strong here in Hell,"
Conor says, his forehead breaking out in a sweat. I place my hand
on his shoulder, the gesture one of understanding. He doesn't need
to explain himself to me. I can tell he is doing the best he can. I
lean down again.

"Can you crawl now, Gwen?" I call out.

"I won't leave her," Gwenyth says firmly, the
tears gone, replaced now by something more. I search her emotions.
There's shock there and denial. Determination.

I glance at Conor. He's focused completely on
the stone, and I know no matter how much he tires, he won't let
go.

"Can you pull her with you?" I ask
Gwenyth.

There's a scraping sound as she moves.

"I think so," she says finally.

I take a deep breath. "You gotta try, Gwen.
You gotta try."

There is more movement, and I glance through
the crawlspace. I'm relieved to see she's moving forward, slowly
but with a determination I've never felt in her before.

"She's going to be okay," Gwenyth says, the
words spoken under her breath, but I hear them and my heart
breaks.

"Keep coming," I say. "You're doing
great."

I have to fight not to let my words crack
from emotion. It's funny how often the heart can deceive itself. I
don't want to believe Hesther is dead. I don't want to believe that
Gwenyth has lost her sister. And I know that believing Hesther is
okay is the only way Gwenyth will survive.

Gwenyth is close enough I can see her face
now, streaked with blood, tears, and dust. Below and slightly to
the side of her is her sister. She doesn't move.

I sit up quickly, my hand against my mouth.
The sob is silenced by my palm, and I shake my head at Conor. He
swears under his breath.

Gray is suddenly on the other side of me, his
hand landing on my shoulder. I look him over.

"Lyre helped me," he explains. "Bruno has
Fiona, and they can hear Deidra. We'll have her out soon too."

I nod, too choked up to do anything else.

"Gwenyth," Gray asks.

I nod again.

"Hesther?"

I shake my head, a tear falling over my hand.
Gray's eyes dull, his jaw tightening. Together, we kneel again.

"Emma?" Gwenyth calls out.

"I'm here," I say quickly.

Gray slides onto his stomach, his hand going
under the rubble.

"Gwenyth, it's Gray. Grab my hand, and I will
pull you free."

Gwenyth doesn't answer, and I look through
the space to see her looking over at her sister. Hesther is so
still, so very, very still. I can't see her face. Only her red
hair.

"I won't leave her," Gwenyth says
stubbornly.

I can feel emotions at my back, and I lean up
to see Bruno behind me, Lyre next to him. Fiona is supporting
Deidra who is favoring her leg. Conor's face is tense,
strained.

"It needs to be soon," Conor says, and I look
down at Gray.

Gray nods before reaching farther into the
space.

"You don't have to leave her, Gwen. I'll get
her out. Trust me."

Gwenyth doesn't say another word. She is
still, her emotions a mix of uncertainty, sorrow, and fear. They
hit me hard, tearing my heart in two, and I lean next to Gray.

"Oh, God!" I breathe quietly.

Ace groans from behind the group, and I know
he feels my grief. I send calm thoughts his way, and he grows
quiet. Gwenyth is sobbing now, and I look back at Ace, an idea
forming in my head, before laying on the floor next to Gray.

"Maybe I can help," I whisper.

Gray is still reaching into the ruins, his
jaw tight, and he doesn't answer. I've never tried to calm anyone
other than Ace before, and I'm not exactly sure how it works, but I
breathe deeply and project anyway. My emotions are nowhere near
calm, but my thoughts are, and I use them to aid Gwenyth,
whispering to her emotions.

"It's going to be okay. Try.
Pull through. Calm down. Breathe.
”

Gwenyth stills, her sobs quieter and Gray
breathes a sigh of relief.

"I have her hand," he announces. He tugs,
pulling first Gwenyth's head through the opening and then her body.
She is bloody and her face is wet with tears. She falls into Gray's
arms, and he holds her against his chest as Bruno takes his place
at the hole, reaching in.

Bruno looks up and shakes his head.

"She's too far."

Gwenyth is pounding Gray with her fists now,
but he holds her tight, refusing to let her go.

"No!" she cries.

"I'm small enough," a quiet voice says, and
we all pause, even Gwenyth.

Deidra limps to the opening, her eyes wide.
"I can get her," she insists.

I begin to shake my head, but Deidra's eyes
narrow.

"I'm strong enough. I am. I can pull her to
the opening at least."

"Please," Gwenyth begs, and Deidra falls to
her knees. No one stops her.

Bruno grabs Deidra by the waist as she moves
through the space, his hands sliding from her hips to her knees as
she scoots into the rubble. I look at Conor, but he is stoic,
silent, his concentration unbroken. Somehow, he manages to lift the
stone even higher than he already has it, and I have to fight not
to touch him. There is nothing I can do to help him.

"I have her," Deidra calls.

There is the faint dragging sound of bodies
sliding along stone, and Bruno helps pull Deidra out, his muscles
straining as Deidra reappears. She doesn't have Hesther in her
grip, but I can see her hair through the opening, and I know she's
done enough.

Bruno releases Deidra, and the imp moves
backward, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging. I know from her
expression that Hesther is in bad shape.

Bruno leans into the space, tugging the limp
Hesther into his embrace, pulling her free just as Conor's control
slips. The cavern ceiling meets the floor with a roar. We are
closed in, trapped. Even if we want to turn back, we can't now.

"Bruno," Conor says quietly, but the large
hybrid is still, his gaze on Hesther's face, his jaw tight. I
notice the brightness in his eyes before I notice anything
else.

"Gray," Bruno warns, and Gray tightens his
arms around Gwenyth as Bruno shakes his head.

Gwenyth starts screaming, the wail hollow,
the sound echoing along the cave. The daughters of Onoskelis have
the ability to create echoes even in places they normally wouldn't
be, and her grief causes them now. The natural echoes in the cavern
are amplified, the grief wrapping us all in a wall of sound. There
is nothing even I can do to calm her now.

Bruno lays Hesther gently on the cavern
floor, and I see her face for the first time. She looks peaceful,
her eyes open.

I sob, the sound lost in Gwenyth's wails.
Arms go around me, and I know they're Conor's even before my cheek
is against his chest.

"Heal her!" Gwenyth says suddenly, and I know
she's talking to me.

Even with Enepsigo's powers, I know Hesther
is beyond my help. Tears crowd my eyes.

"Heal her!" Gwenyth yells.

"Gwenyth," Conor says calmly, but she fights
her way out of Gray's grip and runs to me, her hand tugging
desperately on my arms. Conor doesn't let go. My sobs are quiet but
they rock me unmercifully.

"HEAL her!" Gwenyth insists.

I shake my head against Conor's chest. There
is no way to heal death. Conor's grip tightens.

"Gwenyth . . . she's gone," Conor says
softly.

The redhead stands there, her eyes blank, her
gaze on my back.

"No," Gwenyth whispers. "No, she's going to
be okay."

"Gwenyth," Bruno says, his own voice cracking
with emotion. "She's not breathing."

His words are like a slap in the face, and I
can hear Fiona's and Deidra's sobs from behind me. Lyre's sobs are
quieter, but I feel them even if I can't see them. Gwenyth is
strangely still, unmoving, her eyes glassy.

"No," she whispers.

I pull away from Conor's chest just enough to
see Gray take Gwenyth back into his arms again as Bruno kneels, his
fingers gently closing Hesther's eyes. She looks like she's
sleeping.

"Have any of you ever done . . . " Bruno
begins.

Fiona interrupts him. "I have."

Conor's breath is next to my ear now.

"They're talking about death magic, Em," he
whispers. "It's magic that will return Hesther to her family."

I squeeze my eyes shut, letting the
blood-tinged tears roll down my cheeks.

"I'll need help," Fiona says. "Emma, Bruno, .
. . Lyre."

Conor's embrace loosens, and I push away from
him slowly, moving to join Bruno and Lyre next to Hesther's body. I
can't look down at her so I look at the other hybrids instead.
Behind Lyre, Gray is still holding Gwenyth who is limp and
unseeing. I feel nothing from her but coldness and heartache.

Fiona kneels, one hand splayed just above the
body. Lyre and Bruno each move to place a hand on my shoulder, and
I suddenly know what they want me to do. I absorb their power,
their emotions, and I direct it at Fiona, giving her enough
strength she can do the death magic.

The cavern is suddenly bright, too bright as
electricity moves in brilliant blue lines along Hesther's figure
and then . . . nothing. The light explodes, making us all shade our
eyes, and when it's gone, so is Hesther.

The grief is too much, Gwenyth's grief, the
other hybrids. I keep seeing Hesther's flirtatious smile, images of
Gwenyth painting Hesther's toe nails, the two of them embracing
when they thought the other was safe. I fall to my knees in the
space that once held Hesther's body. Bruno goes down on one knee
next to me.

"We need to keep moving," he says.

"I don't want to do this anymore," Gwenyth
says abruptly, her face hard. She's in shock, there's no doubt, and
there is anger in her voice. Gray doesn't let her go.