propel me forward as I run or to halt me when I pause, so I toss the torch behind me on the ground.
I watch the pendulous swinging of the axes for a few seconds to get my focus and my bearings once again. I take a deep breath, let it out.
Take in another, and then I bolt forward.
CHAPTER 14
Finley
The first three swinging axes are easy to time, and I’m able to run through them with plenty of clearance. I do feel, however, the waft of air across my ponytail from the third pole as it swings behind me, causing me to actually tuck my butt in a bit lest some of it get lopped off.
The last five are in a steady synchrony. Rather than run through them, I think I can take a steady walk but will need to turn my body sideways to slip through the last two.
Another deep breath and I make my move.
All goes fine through axes four, five, and six, and I’m feeling confident enough that I’m already preparing mentally for my next task. It’s by far easier to slip between two axes than the multiples I’ve done so far, so I don’t even bother with a deep breath before I start to step in between them.
And that’s when the cave starts rumbling and shaking, hard enough that stone above me loosens and rains down.
At first, I merely hold my arms out and my balance is maintained, but the shaking gets worse and the log starts vibrating.
Then shaking.
Then bouncing.
That’s when my foot slips off.
I’m off-balance, twisting as I start to fall, but I manage to catch myself by squatting, hands to the log for balance. Before easing my foot back up, the ax behind me swings my way and I can’t move fast enough to get out of the way. The corner catches me on the outside of my thigh since I’m at an angle, but luckily it doesn’t slice too deep.
It hurts like a bitch, though, and I can’t help but cry out in pain.
I’m panting now, trying to hold myself on the log and figure out how to right myself in between swinging axes.
That’s when I notice that the end of the log, just a mere ten feet from me, is jostling so much from this earthquake that it’s bouncing closer to the edge of the pit. It won’t be long before it falls off into the dark abyss, which means I don’t have time to study the timing of the swinging axes anymore.
I don’t trust my magic since trying to manipulate the swinging poles caused more to appear, so I dismiss trying to build another staircase across the short distance to the edge or even trying to bend distance. The risk is too great.
I close my eyes, feel the whoosh of the axes behind me and to the front. I feel the blood soaking into my pant leg, knowing I can’t afford another confrontation with one of those blades. With the log now starting to bounce, I decide it’s do or die.
I pop up straight, watch the last two axes part on their swings outward, and fling myself forward across the unstable log. I hold my arms out for balance as I tippy-toe my dash forward. My body lurches from side to side but, somehow, I manage not to get cut. When I make it past the last ax, I’m horrified to see the end of the log start to fall off the edge of the pit.
Only one thing to do—I make a flying leap for the edge just as the log slips free of the ledge and tumbles into the darkness. My momentum is strong enough that only my feet fall short of the edge. I land hard on my chest, both arms reaching outward to scrape at the dirt as everything from my waist down hangs over the ledge. Feet scrabbling for purchase, I manage to push, kick, and claw my way up onto the ledge where I roll to my back and gasp for air.
My entire body feels depleted, and I have no clue what awaits me next. I’m not stupid enough to think that I’m near the end or that the next task will be easier.
In fact, I’m sure it will be harder.
I take a few moments to at least get my breathing under control. When I feel like my legs won’t give way, I manage to lurch to a standing position. Leaning over, I pull at the ripped