Powerless (The Powerless Trilogy)

Today is the day. In fact, today might be my last day.

The Imperial guides me to an opening near the other side of the maze, leaving me there to stare up at the looming walls of foliage that dare me to enter. Dare me to get lost within its twist and turns.

Just survive today. That’s all you have to do.

The sound of snapping twigs and twisting hedges from within the maze tells me that the paths are changing again. The maze is moving.

Movement to my left has my head swiveling towards a young girl, eyes glossy and unblinking as she stares at me with a hand raised above us, projecting what I hope is an emotionless expression onto one of the giant screens for all to see. There must be dozens of them patiently awaiting us in the maze, ready to broadcast the bloodshed.

I keep my face blank as I turn back to the opening of the maze in front of me, though I’m restless to race inside and get this over with.

Everything will change after today.

“Let the final Trial begin.”

I barely hear the king’s words echo through the arena before the cries of the crazed crowd drowns them out. I blink away my thoughts, blinking up at the opening before me and the walls awaiting.

And then I’m running.

As soon as I step into the maze, I’m smothered by the blanket of shadows. It’s dark and damp but I don’t slow my pace. I run through the path of plants and hedged walls, skidding to a stop when I’m faced with my first decision.

Left or right.

I don’t have the time to ponder my options, so I hang a left and am immediately faced with the same decision.

Right.

I run and run and—

Dead end.

I backtrack, turning left instead of right and pick up my pace despite my slight panting. I fall into a routine of random guessing, retracing my steps, and cursing. Lots and lots of cursing.

“Dammit!” I’m yelling at nothing but the sixth dead end I’ve had the pleasure of stumbling upon. I spin on my heel and head back the way I came, barely glancing at the Sight who just witnessed, and recorded, my little outburst. I huff, senses feeling dull in this damp maze. The cries of the crowd outside are muffled, muted by the layers of thick foliage separating me from them.

It’s eerily quiet in here, nothing but the sound of my pounding feet, pounding heart, and panting breaths filling the silence.

And then the maze shifts.

The path I’m standing in narrows, the hedges on either side of me press in.

I’m about to be squashed.

This is my nightmare. My most terrifying, claustrophobic nightmare.

I sprint for the end of the path where another one awaits, one that isn’t moving and won’t crush me if I make it there in time. My lungs are burning, my feet shifting in the sand with each stumbling step.

Twigs and leaves and thick greenery brush my shoulders on both sides, threatening to swallow me whole as they continue closing in. But I keep running towards my salvation, towards the path awaiting me only a few yards away.

Branches and thorns I hadn’t seen before now tear at the exposed skin on my arms, unrelenting as the walls continue to push against me. Any longer and I’ll be trapped between foliage, skewered by branches and thorns.

Dead. I’ll be dead if I don’t get out. Now.

I dive.

I hit the clear pathway hard, rolling to break my fall.

And that’s when pain erupts up my leg.

Lying on my side, chest heaving, I follow the stinging sensation to my left foot—the one trapped between the two hedges that have now molded together.

A strangled cry slips from my lips, and I clamp a hand over my mouth to stifle it. Red, hot blood is running down my leg, dripping onto the sand beneath it. I sit up, trying to calm my breathing as I stretch shaky hands towards the ankle that is barely covered by my now shredded boot.

I lean forward and claw at the tangle of twining branches, leaves, and thorns ensnaring my leg. After barely managing to snap off a branch, I’ve never wished for my dagger more than in this moment.

This maze is the work of Blooms, the work of Elites. Power fills the foliage creating these walls, woven together with the branches and leaves and thorns to make them thicker and stronger and deadlier.

I gulp down air, forcing myself to ignore the flaring pain in my foot. My hands clamp around my calf. I take a shaky breath. And then I pull.

It’s like fire. The pain is so hot, so searing. I bite my tongue until I taste blood, watching as I pull more and more of my foot into view while simultaneously pulling the ruined boot off my foot. I stop, gasping for breath and a break from the pain.

Without my boot to protect my foot from the thorns and jagged branches, it is a mangled mass of torn flesh. Well, the part of it I can see, that is. The other half of my foot is still swallowed by the hedges now fused together, refusing to release me.

I swallow my scream of pain when I pull at my foot again. More torn flesh comes into view, bloody and looking like red ribbons trailing deep across my skin. But with one final yank followed by one final yelp, my foot is freed.

I fall onto my back, gasping for air and gasping from pain. I blink up at the sky, allowing myself one more moment to breathe before sitting up and tearing off the bottom strip of my tank. The burgundy fabric blends with the seeping blood from my wound as I wrap it around my foot as best I can.

Adena would be both fascinated and disgusted by how perfectly the colors match.

I push off the ground and stagger to my feet.

Pain. Sharp pain and a slew of curses.

I limp forward, trying to ignore the throbbing ache from my foot that’s climbing up my leg. But I can walk, proving that the injury could have been much, much worse.

Sweat clings to me, soaking the tank that is now torn dangerously short, displaying a good chunk of skin before the band of my pants wraps under my bellybutton. And despite the damp, cool breeze blowing through the hedges of the maze, I’m uncomfortably hot and sticky.

I press on, off balance from pain and the lack of both shoes. The darkness deepens as I head further into what I hope is the center of the maze and what awaits me there.

And if I make it there first, I will hold someone’s life in my hands.

Left. Right. Left. Left. Dead end. Right. Left. Dead end.

My claustrophobia has me feeling like the hedges are pressing in on me—

I slow to a stop. They are pressing in on me.

Panicking, I spin my head in every direction, trying to find a path that isn’t attempting to swallow me whole. No luck. I force myself into a stumbling sort of run, skidding down paths at random and finding them all shifting.

This can’t be right.

The king wouldn’t just throw the contestants in this maze only to crush us for fun, right? Wasn’t the fun supposed to be watching us crush each other?

I pause and allow myself to pant, to panic. If the king intends to flatten me with hedges, then there is nothing I can do about it. So, I stop and stare at the walls of greenery closing in on either side of me.

Then I close my eyes, bracing myself.

Looks like there will be one less Ordinary to worry about.

Branches brush my shoulders and I stiffen, suddenly and sadly prepared to greet Death.

I’ll see you soon, Father.

Nothing.

I peek open an eye only to find that I’m faced with a wall of greenery. I blink. The hedges are no longer moving. I spin around, a branch snagging the fabric of my tank with the movement.

The path is now only slightly wider than the width of my shoulders.

I stagger towards the end and turn down another, finding it just as tight. I swallow, making a sharp left down an equally narrow path.

How cruel and cunning the king is. I almost want to applaud him for this appalling game. I was right. The fun of the Trials is watching us crush each other. And he just set the scene for the show.

A scream cuts through the quietness, ringing for a moment before being silenced the next, sending a chill sweeping down my spine.

Once again, we are being forced to fight. And there is only enough space on these paths for one body to pass through.

I take a shuddering breath, feeling the claustrophobia pressing in like the walls brushing my shoulders.

Only one contestant can fit on these paths at a time. So if I run into one—

“Thank the Plague,” the voice behind me is dripping with venom, “I was worried I wasn’t going to get to kill you before these Trials ended.”