Page 71 of Mostly Shattered

Still no answer.

I suppose I owe my mother a thank you for all those exercise hours she made me log growing up. The sheer rock face seems to grow taller the closer I come. Jagged stones jut from its surface, and the uneven texture promises an arduous climb.

One trial is an assessment of strength. The labyrinth is testing my endurance, and the message it is sending is clear. Like in life, there are no easy paths or shortcuts. There is only onward.

I grab a handhold and hoist myself up. The torch sticking out of the side of the cliff overhead becomesmy goal, and I climb toward it. I try not to think beyond the next push upward, but random thoughts still stir.

I grew up among the supernatural, yet I will never be one of them. I used to feel defective because of the power that flows through my family. However, I have accepted my mortality. At this point, I can’t imagine having to learn to control fireballs or cast spells. I don’t expect magic will come to me when I complete this test. Though it would be nice to have the amulet’s protection again. Gods know I need it.

One torch disappears, and another takes its place. I look down, unable to see the bottom. I look up, finding an endless cliff. My muscles ache, and I’d give anything for a break.

“Keep going,” I order through clenched teeth, forcing myself to breathe.

My fingers are raw and ache from gripping the textured surface. Every inch feels like it adds a thousand pounds to my body. My movements become stunted. I’ve lost momentum. I become frozen against the stone.

A tear slips down my face. The first task is climbing a wall and I’ve already failed. What good am I?

Merely mortal. Always mortal.

If the labyrinth wants to remind me just how human I am, how weak, it has succeeded.

What was my grandfather thinking? What was the wizard who wrote this prophecy thinking?

I can’t save the world. I can’t even climb a damn cliff.

My arms shake, and I try to reach the next handhold, but my fingers struggle to find a purchase on the stone, and I fall back down. My foot slips, and I hear stones crashing along the cliff face. My heart beats hard. Panic floods me. I won’t survive the fall.

I try not to think of all the people I’m failing.

A faint cry comes from above. I’m too weak to look up as I cling to the rock.

“Hello?” I call out, hoping for help. The word echoes back at me.

The noise comes again. Someone sounds like they’re in pain.

I manage to pull myself up another few inches.

The voice doesn’t answer me, but it sounds familiar.

Anthony?

No. It can’t be him. It’s a trick. He should be somewhere safe. He needs to be.

The sound comes again, fainter than before but unmistakable.

“Anthony!” I yell. “Hold on, I’m coming!”

My stomach knots, and I grunt with each push upward. I force myself to ignore the pain, to keep climbing. The labyrinth is designed to mess with myhead and exploit my fears, but it can also kill me. What if it brought Anthony into its game to make me suffer?

I can’t lose another brother.

Desperation drives my actions.

“I’m coming,” I whisper, breathless. “I’m coming.”

I can’t afford to think. The labyrinth will not wait for me to figure things out. It doesn’t care if I feel sorry for myself or that I’m mortal. This is a test, and I can’t fail.

“I’m coming.”

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