First it sent more creepers, squads of them, as if there were an inexhaustible supply to call upon. They flooded the corridors ahead and behind, some advancing in search, some standing watch at every turn. They began to use the odd-looking cylinders now, weapons that emitted bursts of the deadly fire threads, cast here and there at random, seeking them out. Time and again, the creepers closed on Ahren and Ryer, and it seemed there could be no escape. But each time, the smoke darkened and swirled, and when it cleared enough to see again, they were safely past their hunters.
When it became obvious that the creepers and their handheld weapons weren't getting the job done, fire threads appeared out of the walls, crisscrossing the corridors, oscillating like deadly spider-webbing caught in a wind. But the magic of the phoenix stone was able to bypass the threads as easily as it had the creepers, cloaking and protecting the Elven Prince and the girl.
Then metal doors began to close, sealing off passageways a few at a time. It was a random effort at best, because it hampered the hunters as well as the hunted. At first it didn't affect Ahren and Ryer at all because the sealed passageways were ones through which they had come or down which they were not impelled to go. But eventually the closings caught up with them, and a door closed directly in their path. Immediately, Ahren knew to change direction, to go another way. He obeyed the impulse, without understanding why, backtracking up that corridor and turning down a new one.
Once, they were forced to wait in front of sealed door until it opened. Ahren had no idea how long that took. All sense of time slipped away from him within the mist, as if it no longer had meaning or relevance in his life. The magic of the phoenix stone had recreated his world, and while he was in its thrall, nothing of the temporal world would much affect him.
Eventually the creepers, fire threads, and closing doors ceased to be more than a sporadic occurrence. Finally, they disappeared completely. They were all alone in a passageway far from where they had started, and Ahren paused to look out through the swirling mist of their enclosure. He felt drained, empty. He felt worn.
"It worked," he said softly.
Her slender hands tightened on his in acknowledgment. "You made it work," she whispered.
He shook his head. "I took a chance. The magic wasn't even mine to use. It belonged to Bek. It was given to him."
"It was given to you by Bek!" Her voice was angry. "Stop belittling yourself, Ahren! Before, when I asked you to come with me into Castledown to find Walker, you said you didn't think you could protect me. But you have, haven't you? It doesn't matter how you did it-only that you did."
She paused to study him. "It took courage to do what you did back there. To use the phoenix stone without knowing what it would do, then to lead us through the creepers and fire threads. It took courage to come with me at all. Why are you so quick to dismiss that?"
He shook his head. "I'm not brave. I'm anything but. I just did the only thing I could think to do to help us escape." She was staring at him as if he were transparent. He felt exposed and vulnerable. He didn't like the idea of her thinking of him as something he knew he wasn't.
She pulled him against one of the walls and leaned into him, still holding tightly to his hands. "Tell me what's bothering you," she said quietly. She fixed him with her violet eyes. "It's all right."
Strangely enough, he felt it was. Not only right, but necessary. He wanted to tell her what he was hiding about himself, to confide in her the truth of his cowardice, to open himself and let out the terrible hurt he was carrying, to rid himself of its burden. There, deep underground, shut away with her by the magic of the phoenix stone, he felt he could.
He forced himself to meet her intense gaze as he spoke. "When we went into the ruins and were attacked, I panicked," he said. "While the others stood and fought, I ran. I threw down my sword, and I ran." He swallowed against the bitterness of his words. "I didn't want to, but I couldn't help myself. All I could think about was saving my life, finding a way to stay alive. Joad Rish was bending down to help one of the Elven Hunters, one of Ard Patrinell's men, and I saw him cut apart by fire threads, his head-"
He choked on the words and had to stop. Ryer's free hand touched his cheek. "Don't you think they all felt as you did, Ahren?" she asked him. "Don't you think they all did whatever they could to stay alive? The Elven Hunters fought back because that's what they knew to do, not because of a code of conduct or a special kind of courage. Joad Rish tried to heal an injured man because that was what he could do. You ran, Ahren, because staying with the others would have gotten you killed and you didn't want that. You did what you could."
"Except that your vision showed that Antrax let me live, that I was kept alive on purpose!" he said bitterly.
Her smile was warm and gently remonstrative. "You didn't know that then, did you? What we do in any situation is based on what we know. I ran to Walker's aid in the maze. I didn't think about it, I didn't stop to reason it out, I didn't consider what I was doing. I reacted in the only way I knew to react. That's all we can do."
"At least you ran in the right direction."
"Did I?" she asked softly.
There was such sadness in her voice, such pain, that it stopped him momentarily. He stared at her, confused. She was telling him something important, but he didn't know what it was.