Chapter 388: The Princess Who Ran Toward the Monsters

I looked back at the river. The ice bridge was already melting, dissolving into the black water like it had never existed. The whispers faded with it, retreating back into whatever depths they’d crawled from.

"That," I said, "was the Arborist saying hello. And reminding us that we’re not just fighting plants and fire elementals."

She looked up at me, and for the first time since I’d met her, I saw actual fear in those periwinkle eyes.

"We’re in over our heads," she said quietly.

"Way over." I offered her my charred hand. "But we’re still breathing. So we keep moving until that changes."

She took my hand and let me pull her up. Her grip lingered a second longer than necessary.

"For what it’s worth," she said, "I’m glad you’re the one stuck down here with me. If I had to be trapped in a nightmare dimension with anyone, you’d be my first choice."

"That’s the exhaustion talking."

"Maybe." She started toward the steps carved into the cliff. "Or maybe you’re just better at this than you think you are."

I watched her climb, noted the way she moved despite being completely drained. Stubborn didn’t even begin to cover it. This girl had been raised by Seraphina Vance, the woman who probably terrified death itself into submission, and it showed in every step.

The stairs went up. And up. And up some more, because apparently, the Arborist was a sadist who believed in cardio.

My ribs decided to remind me they existed. The burns on my arms decided to join the protest. Even my legs got in on the action, trembling with every step like they were considering a union strike.

I made it maybe thirty steps before I had to stop and lean against the wall, breathing hard.

Cel paused above me. "Need a break?"

"I’m fine."

"You look like you’re about to pass out."

"That’s just my face."

She came back down and sat on the step beside me. Close enough that our shoulders touched. Close enough that I could feel her shivering.

"You’re freezing," I said.

"Side effect. Using that much ice burns through my body heat. I’ll be fine once we find somewhere warm."

I looked at the cavern around us. At the distant ceiling lost in shadow. At the black river below that probably dissolved anything warmer than absolute zero.

"Yeah. This place is definitely known for its tropical climate."

She laughed again. Tired and broken and somehow still genuine.

"We’re going to die down here, aren’t we?"

The question hung between us like smoke.

I could’ve lied. Told her we’d be fine, that I had a plan, that reinforcements were coming. All the comforting garbage people say when they’re trying to make the inevitable sound temporary.

But Cel had asked for honesty earlier. And she’d earned it.

"Maybe," I said. "Probably, even. The odds aren’t exactly in our favor."

"That’s supposed to make me feel better?"

"No. But it’s the truth." I shifted to look at her directly. "We’re stuck in a Black Gate with a cosmic entity that collects people like trading cards. We’ve got no backup, limited supplies, and I’m currently rocking the charcoal briquette look on both arms. Statistically speaking, we’re completely fucked."

She stared at me. "Is there a ’but’ coming? Please tell me there’s a ’but.’"

"But." I grinned. "I’ve survived worse odds. And I’m really, really bad at dying when people expect me to."

"That’s your inspiring speech?"

"I don’t do inspiring. I do realistic with a side of spite." I stood, ignoring how my legs wobbled. "Now come on. We’ve got a cosmic gardener to disappoint."

She took my offered hand and let me pull her up.

We climbed.

The stairs seemed endless, spiraling up the cliff face in a pattern that made my head spin if I looked at it too long. But eventually, finally, we reached the top.

Another tunnel waited. Of course it did. Because this place loved tunnels like I loved terrible decisions and complicated women.

This one was different though. The walls were smooth, almost polished, and they reflected the knife’s light in strange ways. Instead of rock, they looked almost like glass. Dark glass with things moving behind it.

I stopped at the entrance, every instinct I had screaming that this was wrong.

"What?" Cel moved beside me, following my gaze. "Oh."

Yeah. Oh.

Because in the glass walls, reflected back at us, were faces. Hundreds of them. Thousands. All pressed against the surface from the other side, mouths open in silent screams.

And they all looked human.

"Those are," Cel whispered, "those are the other Hunters. The ones who came before us."

I nodded slowly, my stomach doing interesting gymnastics. "The Arborist’s failed candidates. The ones who didn’t make the cut."

"He trapped them in the walls."

"Seems like." I raised the silver knife and looked at my own reflection in the glass. The face staring back at me looked older than eighteen. Harder. Like something had reached inside and carved away everything soft, leaving only edges.

Behind my reflection, dozens of faces crowded close, pressing against the barrier. Their mouths moved, forming words I couldn’t hear.I lowered the knife. "We should go back."

"Where? The river?"

"Literally anywhere that isn’t this hallway of nightmares."

Cel looked at the faces. At the tunnel stretching ahead into darkness. At the path we’d taken to get here.

Then she grabbed my hand.

"No," she said firmly. "We go forward. Together."

"That’s possibly the worst tactical decision you’ve ever made."

"Good thing I’m not a tactician." She pulled me toward the tunnel. "I’m just a princess who’s very tired of running from things."

The faces watched us enter. Some looked sad. Some looked hungry. All of them looked like they’d been human once, before the Garden had taken that away and left something else behind.

I gripped the silver knife tighter and followed Cel into the glass hallway.

The whispers from the river started again, echoing up from the cavern below. But this time, they were joined by new voices. The voices of everyone trapped in these walls, speaking in unison.

The Arborist is waiting. The Arborist is watching. The Arborist has chosen you.

"Hey Cel?"

"Yes?"

"When we get out of this, remind me to never volunteer for Gate duty ever again."

"Deal." She squeezed my hand. "Now shut up and walk. We’re not giving this place the satisfaction of breaking us."

I shut up and walked.

Behind us, in the glass, the faces began to smile.