Ink, Iron, and Glass (Ink, Iron, and Glass #1)(82)



“There’s definitely a large space in the center, like a round courtyard,” Leo called from above. “Hold on a minute.”

He sat down on the top of the wall, rolled onto his stomach, then lowered himself off the edge, reaching for footholds in the stone. He scuttled down the wall deft as a mountain goat and rejoined them on the floor of the corridor.

“We’re close. I’ve got the last few turns memorized,” he said, as Faraz handed back the rapier.

They walked in silence for a minute or two, following Leo’s lead. There was something eerie about the absence of sound inside the labyrinth. Veldana was a scribed world, but it had birdsong and wind through the trees, waves rolling over rocks and small animals burrowing in leaf litter. Here, nothing. It was quiet as death.

“Skandar’s nervous,” Faraz observed.

Porzia said, “The tentacle monster isn’t the only one.”

Elsa was watching for the flicker of shadow that would give away another camouflaged pit in the floor. “Just keep your eyes open, everyone.” She half expected Leo to offer a snappy reply, but when she stole a glance at him, he seemed too focused on the path ahead.

They turned right into a corridor so sharply curved that Elsa could only see a few meters in front of them before the inner wall obstructed her view. Leo led them halfway around the circle to a place where the inner wall opened up onto a larger space beyond.

“Hah, this is it!” Leo crowed, but the mirth died on his lips as he stopped dead in his tracks.

Elsa peered around his shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of her mother’s book—she imagined it on a stone pedestal, like some sort of religious icon—but instead the round inner courtyard of the labyrinth hosted a sharp-toothed monster. It bore some resemblance to a wolf but was much too large, with a row of spines protruding from its grotesquely arched back, taloned eagle’s feet, and too many eyes, like a spider.

It peeled its lips back, and even the labyrinth’s dim light was enough to glint off those rows and rows of dagger-shaped teeth.





18

I KNOW NOW THAT SHE IS DESTINED TO SURPASS ME, IF SHE HAS NOT DONE SO ALREADY.

—personal notes of Jumi da Veldana, 1891

“Everyone keep quiet and hold still,” Faraz said under his breath. “It’s not sure where we are.”

Elsa wondered how that could be true, since the monster’s head had swung around to face them. But then she noticed its nostrils flaring and its head cocking from one side to the other hesitantly. Montaigne might have spent his time liberally when scribing its slavering maw, but some corners had been cut on the matter of keen senses.

Leo swallowed visibly and muttered, “Unless I’m horribly mistaken, that’s not a prize waiting for us in the center of the labyrinth.”

Very slowly, he began to ease his rapier out of its sheath. The wolf-monster twitched an ear at him halfway through the task, generating a collective gasp from the humans and forcing Leo to freeze in place, but as soon as its attention shifted again, the blade came free with a soft shnick.

Faraz gave a barely noticeable shake of his head. “Don’t. This is a scribed monster—you have a weapon of precision and no promise the vital targets will be in the right places.”

“You give Montaigne too much credit for creativity. It will have a heart and a throat, at least, which is good enough for me. What do you want to do, stand here forever?”

Faraz gave him a warning look, but Leo ignored it. Icy fear threaded through Elsa’s veins as Leo lunged forward, rapier at the ready.

He feinted left and right, testing the beast’s reflexes. It could move fast for its size, but Leo was smaller and more agile. He darted forward and sank the rapier deep into the wolf-monster’s throat. For a second, Elsa believed he’d done the beast in, but then it twisted to the side, wrenching the hilt from Leo’s hand.

Seeing him disarmed, Elsa drew her revolver. At the same time, Faraz quietly said, “Skandar, attack.”

Skandar’s wings snapped open and it launched itself from Faraz’s shoulder, tentacles flaring. Despite its apparent lack of a mouth, Skandar emitted a high-pitched “Shreeee!” so loud Elsa nearly dropped the revolver in her attempt to cover her ears against the piercing sound. If there had been any glass nearby, she imagined it would have shattered.

The wolf-monster shook its head as if addled by the cry and stumbled backward a couple of steps. As soon as the cry ended, though, it seemed doubly incensed. The beast lunged at Leo, the rapier still grotesquely skewered through its neck. Elsa took aim and squeezed off two rounds into its chest. The bullets slowed the monster, but it stumbled forward to take another swipe at Leo, who scrambled out of range of the beast’s claws.

“Yes, well,” he panted. “I’m willing to admit this isn’t going as well as I’d hoped.”

“Leo admitting he’s wrong?” said Faraz. “If we weren’t fighting for our lives, I’d take a moment to mark the occasion on my calendar.”

Skandar, circling the beast’s head just out of reach, let out another earsplitting “Shreeeeee!” Elsa winced, but at least the noise seemed to pain the wolf-monster much more than it did the humans.

Faraz folded his arms. “Skandar, stop playing around and finish it.”

Skandar’s one enormous eye seemed to regard them for a moment, and then the creature dropped from the air like a stone, landing on the wolf-monster’s head with tentacles splayed. There was a bzzzt sound, and arcs of blue-white electricity and the monster’s whole body twitched and jerked. Then Skandar released its tentacles’ grip, and there was only the sound of limp flesh hitting flagstone and the reek of burnt hair.

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