Page 133 of Saints & Sinners

I scrambled to Marnie’s side, grabbing the tendrils and holding her. “Okay, just hold on!”

Marnie coughed, her fingers clawing at the vines constricting her ribs. “Grace—the sigil—it’s in the roots—it’s—”

My eyes widened as I glanced at the ground in search of it. “Hunter—” I hardly got his name out before another vine lashed toward my throat. I stumbled back, dodging just in time before slamming my boot down on it. The tendril coiled violently, like a severed limb writhing in pain.

Hunter was already at my side, his expression focused. “Keep them off me.”

He didn’t wait for a response before dropping to his knees, shoving his hands deep into the mass of writhing roots. The moment his fingers dug into them, the vines screamed.

I didn’t have time to process how unnatural it sounded before the walls closed in.

A thick vine struck Silas across the chest, knocking him flat on his back and causing Hunter to look over his shoulder. In that one second, a vine lashed out at him. I reacted on instinct. I dove toward him, shoving his body aside as a thick root snapped towards his face. Pain seared my arm as thorns slashed through fabric and skin alike, but I bit down the cry that tore through me.

Hunter’s arms tried to catch me before I could collapse, but the vines wrapped around his wrists, pulling him back.

I gritted my teeth against the pain when another vine circled my ankle, and I grabbed onto a trunk, holding myself in placebefore I could be dragged.

“Grace!” Hunter shouted, fighting off the vines. “The sigil!”

I nodded and used my other hand as I reached inside the roots, searching for the sigil. A strangled scream slipped past my lips. I couldn’t help it.

“Come on,” I whimpered in desperation. I could feel the smooth exterior of the sigil, but it was too far out of my reach.

I kicked at the vine, holding onto my leg, and placed all my strength on grabbing that sigil.

Marnie was still struggling to breathe, her body growing limp by the second.

Shit, shit, shit.

Determination pushed against my chest, and I pulled myself up. Another tendril wrapped around my waist, and I knew now was my only chance. With a pained cry, I stretched my arm until my fingers could close around the sigil.

Everything stilled.

Then, something ancient and enraged groaned from within the walls. The vines loosened their grip on all of us at once before recoiling back into the walls, and a shockwave of golden light exploded outward. Marnie fell beside me as Brandon raced to catch her. Hunter rushed toward me, cupping my face as I shielded my eyes, and the walls dissolved around us, melting into nothingness. The air shimmered, and the maze around us transformed into something surreal and otherworldly.

Hunter helped me stand as the ground beneath me wavered again, sending a ripple through my body as if I were standing on water instead of land. Fragments of floating paths and patches of grass hovered in the air, breaking off and reforming.

Brandon muttered something about getting high, and Marnie nudged him hard enough to make him stumble, but even then, Marnie was struck by awe as she looked around at the swirlingcolors of reds and golds bleeding into the sky.

A storm churned in the distance, its crackling energy throwing shadows against mountains and hills before I noticed the other competitors standing in different parts of the glade, looking just as confused as us. Some were already moving, hopping across the unstable paths toward something in the distance.

I looked at where they were heading and saw the unmistakable glowing orb hovering in the center of the landscape. Two other stones were on each side of it.

“Well, that’s subtle,” Silas said as all of us spotted the sigil stones floating in midair.

“It’s the last part of the competition,” Hunter said grimly. “And we’re not the only ones who can tell either.”

He was right.

A Guardian to our left raised her hands as her fingers traced glowing patterns in the air. A vision flickered to life in front of her, showing a clearer path to the stones.

“That’s cheating,” Silas mumbled. “I thought they couldn’t control their visions.”

“It’s called strategy,” Hunter corrected. “Now move.”

We lunged forward, leaping across fragments of floating paths. Each step felt unsteady as every competitor who hadn’t been affected by a cursed stone or beast moved closer to the sigil stones like we were predators circling their prey.

A Messenger on another path stopped, her eyes glowing faintly as she focused on someone else from her sector. She wasn’t speaking, but her silent telepathy directed the person toward the stone with precision, guiding him through the chaotic shift in paths.

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