Unfortunately, that won’t help me now.
I need to find a key before I find the exit, and that means heading deeper into the maze rather than toward the perimeter. If I knew what style maze this was…
Oh well. There’s only one way to find out. I take a deep breath and head in the approximate direction of the center in an easy jog. Fast enough to cover ground efficiently, but not so fast as to be caught unaware if I come upon another champion. The only champions that will be eliminated are the ones still in the maze when the time runs out, which means the smartest way to deal with anyone I come across is to incapacitate them in some way. Knocking someone unconscious isn’t an easy feat, so that means going for the legs. Knees are the best bet.
Unfortunately, the other champions will be trying to do the same to me.
I wind my way through the maze, the paths leading me away from and toward the center in turn. With the arena being the way it is, it’s impossible to know if I’m making progress or just moving farther away from my goal.
The crowd screams and I stop short, gaze flying to the screens I can see from my current position. They all show Atalanta. She’s flying through the maze, sprinting at a pace that has her locs streaming out in her wake. I see why a moment later when the Minotaur veers around the corner behind her.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe. He looks like he wants to kill her.
He’s almost on her when she turns on her heel, launching herself against the wall and spinning in the air to deliver a brutal punch to his square jaw. It knocks him back a step into the opposite wall. By the time he recovers, she’s gone, disappeared around the nearest corner.
I watch for several more heartbeats before it’s clear that she got away, and I feel a strange sort of relief. We’d be better served for Atalanta to be eliminated this trial, but that doesn’t mean I want her hurt in the process. I exhale slowly and force myself to refocus. Now’s not the time to get distracted. I need to keep my eye on the prize.
A flash of movement at the corner of my eye has me turning…
Right into Hector’s fist.
21
Helen
It takes several long, frustrating minutes of weaving through this endless maze before my brain kicks into gear. Athena stated the rules at the beginning. Find the key. Get to the door out of the maze.
She didn’t say anything about how we had to go through the maze.
I eye the walls. They’re ten feet tall at their lowest point and mostly untextured, not leaving grooves or handholds to climb. But one of the potential obstacles I trained for was running up a wall. With enough lead-in, I might be able to make it. It’s hard to tell how wide the walls themselves are, but I used to do the balance beam. They can’t be much narrower than that.
It takes me a little longer to find a section of the maze with enough space to get a good takeoff. Overhead, the clock ticks down, but there’s still plenty of time. I can’t see all the screens from this position, but the ones I can see show the champions trying to work their way through the close paths.
If I do this, they’ll video me.
The others will follow suit quickly. Or at least they’ll try. They’d be fools not to. Whatever advantage being the first brings won’t last for long if I don’t hurry.
I take a deep breath and wipe my damp palms on my clothing. I haven’t seen anything of Achilles or Patroclus yet, and I can’t help worrying about them. My life would be easier if they were both eliminated in this round. I should be seeing this in black and white—what helps me become the next Ares and what stands in my way.
But if they’re eliminated…this strange thing between the three of us ends.
They’re the first people I’ve come across who seem to truly see me. Spoiled brat, yes. Pampered princess, mostly. But the strong, savvy woman beneath, too. Patroclus treats me like I’m something of true value. Achilles just takes my strength as fact. They both regard me as an equal.
It’s a heady thing. Maybe I’m a fool, but I’m not ready to give it up yet.
There’s no time to mull it over now. It doesn’t matter what the clock overhead says; if I don’t reach one of those keys first, I won’t make it to the next round. I haven’t come this far to fail.
I sprint at the wall. It feels a bit like running for the vault in gymnastics, except the vault is a ten-foot-tall wall and I get a quarter of the distance to pick up speed. I take one last step and launch myself at the wall. Up, up, up. My fingertips barely brush the top. I curse as I drop back to the ground and nearly land on my ass. “Fuck.”
The more times I attempt this, the more energy and time I’m wasting, neither of which I can afford. Maybe I should try something else… I shake my head hard. No. This is the best option. I’ve never let a little thing like failing once get in the way of my goals, and I’m not about to start now.
I retrace my steps back down the path and inhale slowly. I’ll make it this time. I have to. My fingers hit the top of the wall and I concentrate on firming them up so I don’t fall back to the ground. It hurts. Gods, it hurts. But I muscle past the pain and pull myself up until I can loop my leg over the top of the wall and drag my body the rest of the way up. At the top, it’s about what I expected. Six inches. Plenty of space. If not for the differing wall heights, I wouldn’t even bother taking off my shoes. As it is, it will be slow going, but I have the advantage of being able to see my path clearer than the other champions.
Around me, the sudden roar of the crowd feels like an almost physical thing pressing against my skin. It’s hard to push it away, to not let it affect me. I force myself to take a moment and survey the maze. It’s a twisty motherfucker, the pathways winding back and forth without any apparent rhyme or reason. I turn carefully and there it is.
The center.
I can follow the path with the foresight of seeing the way through…or I can take a shortcut.
The maze paths are about five feet apart. Not an insignificant distance but not so far that I can’t easily jump it. The center is right there. Maybe fifty feet away. I can get there, get the key, and take the same path back to the perimeter to find the door. The walls might be different heights, but it looks like if I can get up to the higher section next to me, I have a clear shot to the center.
Against these competitors, I can’t afford to be cautious.
More, I’m better suited than anyone to accomplish this with my gymnastics background. Five feet is nothing to cross, and the six-inch top of the walls might as well be flat ground. I can do this.
The screens shift above me and I take three seconds to watch one of the other champions try to run up the wall. He’s quite a bit taller than me and manages to haul himself up, but when he tries to get his leg over, something goes wrong. I wince as he falls back to the ground with a dull thud I can almost feel, even if I can’t hear it over the roar of the crowd. “Maybe I’m the only one who can do this,” I murmur.