Page 106 of Frost Like Night
A single scene flows into my mind—the platforms below me, the colors glowing brighter in pairs. One green platform on the left side; one green on the right side. And on and on, starting at the other end of the room and finishing below me, at the dais just under my ledge.
I pull back, confused. I’m not given long to think on it—shouting pulls me to my feet so I can peer down the length of the room. At the ends of both sides, small holes of black release two figures onto circular daises like the one below me. Mather and Sir tumble out, one on each side of the divide, separated from me by the long expanse of glowing platforms.
“Are you all right?” I call, my question echoing off the towering walls.
My voice jerks Mather’s head up. “Yes.” He leaps to his feet, stumbles to the edge of the dais. “Are you?”
Sir rises too, his eyes darting over the room. When helooks at me, he squares his body as though he expects a fight to come storming in at any moment.
“I’m fine,” I shout, ignoring every injury that says otherwise. “The labyrinth is testing us.”
I glance over the room again. Mather is on the left side of the divide; Sir is on the right. The vision of the matching platforms created a haphazard path from them to me.
Realization sparks like a wildfire.
“I think you have to get to me.” I point at the dais that sits where the divided wall ends below me.
Sir surveys the platforms. “This seems elaborate for such a simple task.”
But Mather shrugs. “I’m not just going to stand here.”
And he steps off the dais, onto a platform that glows silver. It drops under his weight. He stumbles, arms flailing, and as the floor sinks beneath him, the gaps around the platform release something that makes me shout a warning. Not that he needs the warning—the moment the flames burst around the platform, shooting up to his waist, Mather curses and stumbles back onto the dais, beating the fire that caught on his pants.
The platform returns to normal, the flames extinguishing as if they never existed at all.
I wobble forward, rocks skittering off under my boots and shattering on the ground below. I recognize this too. From where I found the key in Summer—the pit that opened up, the fire ring at the bottom. This is far moresevere, though, and falling into these pits seems like a quick way to get incinerated.
Sir paces his platform, attention cutting from me to the wall that separates him and Mather. “What? What happened?”
“Fire happened,” Mather shouts back. “It looks like we have to cross the roomwithoutstepping on the platforms.”
Sir crosses his arms, analyzing the rest of the space around him. “We could—”
“Wait!” I shout. “You have to step on the same platforms on each side. I’ll guide you.”
Mather eyes me, hands still out like he expects the entire floor to give way. Sir looks equally pensive, but he steps to the edge of his dais. They both wait.
My heart sputters. This is the test—leadership. Testing my ability to lead, and their ability to follow.
Months ago—snow, evenweeksago—I would have shriveled at the thought of being the one to give orders and expect them to be followed. I’d have been weighed down by thoughts that Sir would be better than me in this situation, or Mather, and that I should have been the one following, the soldier meant to facelessly carry out missions.
But I can’t afford doubt. Yes, I harbored fear the whole time, but being a competent, worthy leader doesn’t mean beingonlycompetent and worthy—it means being so despite whatever emotions might arise.
I draw in a breath, my heart flapping until concentrationbreaks away everything else.
“Mather—to the green platform. Sir—green, on your right. Mather—red, just ahead. Sir—jump over the brown platform and land on the other red one—”
My hands snap out to point at the corresponding platforms that I saw in the vision; my orders are clear and unwavering. Every muscle hums with adrenaline, every nerve flickers in alertness as I take stock of the platforms around them and calculate which ones they need to reach.
Mather and Sir hop from platform to platform, faltering as each one locks into place. They don’t hesitate to listen to me, don’t question how I know what they need to do, as if obeying orders from me is a natural state for them.
I hardly recognize the woman standing on the ledge over the room, spouting orders with all the confidence of a queen. Once, Mather lands on a platform a breath before Sir and the whole thing plummets down, fire bursting up around him in a spiral of orange and yellow heat. But I scream for Sir to jump, jumpnow, and he obeys in time so that both their platforms level out safely.
The fate of everyone I love hangs on me getting Mather and Sir through this.
And I know, above everything else, that I will not fail.
Finally, they leap simultaneously onto the circular dais below me. I drop to my knees, beaming at them as they share a relieved look.
