Page 111 of Monsterland Mayhem
It’s not a courtyard, but it’s also no longer hidden from my view.
I take off alongside it, eager to find more, to locate a central place, to take advantage of what the pink-haired man said about there being eyes and ears everywhere.
I have a declaration I need to make.
A request that can’t be denied.
Ritual. Ritual. Ritual.The word repeats in my head with each step, reaching a crescendo as I find a set of ornate stairs that seem to lead to a break in the maze.
The rose garden–like hedges part around the bottom, forming an oval wall of sorts with several arched openings. Butthe area before it is a massive fountain, one that can be reached if I descend the grand staircase.
It’s not a courtyard. At least, not in the traditional sense. However, there’s nothing traditional about this place.
And it looks official with the stone statues decorating the fountain area.
This has to be it.
I take a step, only for a blur of white to catch my attention out of the corner of my eye. I spin toward it, my lips parting at the sight maybe ten yards from where I stand.
“Beast,” I breathe, instantly running in his direction.
But when I’m just a few feet away, he darts away from me, leading me to another staircase, one that goes up.
My stomach twists, the direction not feeling right.
But it’s Krolic as his wolf. He’s clearly trying to show me something.
I ascend a few stairs, his name on the tip of my tongue when his scent curls around me.
My steps slow and I inhale deeply, expecting to be overwhelmed by his woodsy cologne. Only… I smell ash instead. Like a burning tree.
I frown.
The scent is all wrong.
Beast pauses at the stop of the stairs, his green eyes holding an expectant look to them.
Krolic’s commentary about how Crimson masquerades as the Silver King whispers through my mind.
Except this scent doesn’t belong to Tav, either. He reminded me of sandalwood oil, and this fragrance is reminiscent of what happens when a tree burns.
Was I wrong about Tav being Crimson? Is this the Crimson King?
I shiver and take a step back down.
The wolf growls in response.
Not Beast.
I turn and run back down, then sprint for the other staircase.
I should have followed my instincts. But I let this wolf distract me.
I can feel him bounding after me, his scent all wrong.
“I want the ritual!” I start yelling, terrified that he’s going to catch me first. “I want to be?—”
Something hard hits me from behind, knocking me forward.
