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I sighed in relief, then pushed myself off the frame. There was no time to savor this victory. “Hurry,” I said, urging everyone through the doorway. “If that’s just the first challenge, we don’t have any time to spare.” The Guardian had not said exactly how long we had to complete the gauntlet, but I had the distinct impression that every second would prove precious.
“Man, your hooded friend really doesn’t believe in easing you into this,” Puck commented as we ducked through the doors and jogged down a hallway. Stone dragon heads lined the wall every few feet, jaws frozen in permanent snarls. “If that first challenge was supposed to be the easiest, we could be in a lot of trouble.”
“What did you think this would be, Goodfel ow?” Grimalkin said, bounding along ahead of us. “A pleasant walk in the park? They do not call it the Gauntlet for nothing.”
“Hey, I’ve run a few gauntlets in my time,” Puck shot back. “They’re basically all the same—you have your physical challenges, a pointless riddle or two, and there’s always a few nasty—” A gout of f lame erupted from one of the stone dragon’s jaws, searing the air over Grimalkin as he passed in front of it. Fortunately, the cat was too short to be harmed, but it made the rest of us skid to a halt.
“—traps,” Puck finished, and winced. “Well, I should’ve seen that coming.”
“Do not stop!” Grimalkin called back, still sprinting ahead. “Keep going, and do not look back!”
“Easy for you to say!” Puck yelled, but then the dull roar behind us made me glance over my shoulder and curse. All the dragon heads we 205/387
had just passed were beginning to spout f lame, and those f lames were coming down the hall toward us.
We ran.
The hallway seemed to go on forever, and there were a few close calls that involved jumping or diving beneath jets of f lame, and of course there was the inevitable pit at the very end that we barely managed to clear, but we made it through with minimal burns. Ariel a’s sleeve caught fire once, and the end of the Wolf ’s tail was singed, but no one was seriously hurt.
Panting, we stumbled through the arch into the next room, where Grimalkin stood on a broken pill ar, waiting for us.
“Ugh,” Puck groaned, brushing cinders from his shirt. “Well, that was fun, though a bit on the clichéd side. Way too Temple of Doom for me.
So, where are we now?”
I scanned the room, which was vast, circular and carpeted in fine white sand, lying in dunes and hills like a miniature desert. Columns and pill ars were scattered throughout the chamber, most broken or lying on their sides, half-buried in the dust. Vines dangled from a vast domed ceiling, impossibly far away, and roots snaked through the crumbling walls. In the faint beams of light, dust motes f loated in the air. I had the impression that if I dropped a pebble in this room, it would hang in the air forever, suspended in time.
In the middle of the room, an enormous stone dais rose from the sand, the remains of four thick marble pill ars spaced evenly along the edge.
On either side of the dais, two elegant winged statues crouched, primly facing one another, the tips of their spread wings nearly touching the ceiling.
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They had the bodies of huge, sleek cats, paws and f lanks resting in the sand, but their faces were of cold yet beautiful women. Eyes closed, the sphinxes sat motionless, guarding a pair of stone doors beyond them.
Climbing onto the dais, we stopped at the edge, gazing up at the enormous creatures. Though the doors were only a few yards beyond the sphinxes’ massive paws, no one moved to step between them.
“Huh.” Puck leaned back, peering up at the statues’ impassive faces. “A sphinx riddle, is it? How positively charming. Do you think they’ll try to eat us if we get it wrong?”
“You,” Grimalkin said, lacing back his ears, “will remain silent in this, Goodfel ow. Sphinxes do not take kindly to f lippancy, and your ill—
contrived remarks will not be well received.”
“Hey,” Puck shot back, crossing his arms, “I’ll have you know, I’ve tangled with sphinxes before, cat. You’re not the only one who knows his way around a riddle.”
“Shut up,” the Wolf growled at both of them, and pointed his muzzle skyward. “Something is happening.” We held our breath and waited. For a moment, everything was still.
Then, as one, the sphinxes’ eyes opened, all brilliant blue-white with no irises or pupils, staring straight ahead. Still, I could feel their ancient, calculating gaze on me as a warm breeze hissed through the room and the statues spoke, their voices quivering with ancient wisdom and power.
Time is the cog that turns the wheel. Winter leaves scars that do not heal. Summer is a fire that burns inside. Spring a terrible burden to hide. Autumn and death go hand in hand. One answer lies within the sand. But seek the answer all alone, Lest the sand claim you as its own.