Chương 45: Chapter 38 – Lost in the Mist

Cade ran as water churned around his legs. He pushed through the swamp, each stride a fight against the sucking pull of the muck below. Pearl was far ahead of him, her lean frame cutting through like a spear. She moved with effortless precision, barely disturbing the water as she sprinted toward the distant shore. Cade, on the other hand, was floundering. His legs burned. The shield in his arms weighed him down, and every splash he made might as well have been a siren giving away his location.

The island faded behind him but the giant leech hadn't stopped. Behind him, the sound of the displacing water grew louder by the second as the massive leech surged closer. Cade's breath hitched as he risked a glance backward. Through the faint violet light, he saw it undulating forward like a freight train of flesh. Ahead, Pearl reached the bank and didn't stop. Without hesitation she disappeared into the dense mist. Cade cursed and pushed harder, splashing the last few meters to shore.

He hit solid ground and nearly tripped over his own two feet. The mossy earth was slick but he quickly found his footing and forced himself forward. The monstrous sound behind him was too close to stop and assess where Pearl had gone. His legs screamed. His lungs ached. His body had been broken down in the Ashen Wastes, baptized in ash and pain until it was stripped bare. What little strength he'd gained since then felt like it was being used up.

He couldn't run much longer but if he stopped he'd be devoured by the leech not too far behind. With no other option, Cade threw himself into the wall of mist. The world turned white and gray, his visibility shrinking to less than a meter. The trees vanished. The path vanished. He couldn't even see the ground but he kept running. Behind him, the leech surged onward. Somehow still following him and from the sounds of it, it was getting closer by the second. Cade clenched his teeth and ran harder.

The ground tilted downward beneath his feet. He stumbled, nearly fell, but caught himself and let the slope carry him forward. The mist thinned slightly as he descended, and after a few more frantic strides, he broke into a clearing. Moonlight spilled into the space, casting soft violet hues over a strange sight. A wall fifteen meters high, made not of stone or wood, but of tangled mangrove roots fused into a seamless lattice.

The structure stretched left and right beyond what Cade could see, impenetrable and unnaturally smooth. Three dark arches leading into the wall lay in front of him. Pearl was nowhere in sight. Cade faltered for half a second, uncertainty digging its claws into him. Had she come this way? Had he veered off? There was no time to decide. The unmistakable squelching of flesh behind him was growing louder. The giant leech was nearly upon him. Cade tightened his grip on the shell and made for the center archway.

The moment he crossed beneath the arch, a shiver crawled down his spine. It wasn't the cool air or the fear of being devoured. It was the unmistakable sensation of being watched. As if something old had turned its attention toward him the instant he crossed some invisible barrier. Despite the feeling, he didn't slow. The passage beyond the arch ran in an unsettlingly straight line. Root walls towered on either side, their surfaces merged into a continuous corridor that extended far ahead.

They rose at least fifteen meters high, their bark pressed so tightly together it looked almost carved rather than grown, catching and diffusing the faint violet glow drifting through the mist. There were no ledges, gaps, or protrusions—nothing he could use to climb beyond the range of the leech barreling toward him. The corridor was wide enough that Cade didn't feel cramped but that only made it worse. There was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to break the line of pursuit. Mist pooled here too, but thinner than outside.

He could see about five meters ahead, maybe the same behind him, while everything else dissolved into hazy nothingness. His footfalls were muffled by moss that clung stubbornly to the ground, damp and springy beneath his toes. And still the leech followed. Cade could hear it more clearly than ever. The wet, dragging undulation of massive flesh. The internal gurgle of some poor creature being digested.

"How are you still following me?" he muttered between breaths. He didn't dare look back. Was it luck? Had it simply barreled through the arch without thinking? Or was it tracking him somehow—actively pursuing him like a predator latched onto the scent of its prey? The corridor ended abruptly in a T‑junction. Left or right. Both passages vanished into mist at sharp right angles. A quick glance and he saw no footprints. No sign that Pearl had passed through either direction. The sound behind him grew louder.

Cade didn't have time to think so he turned left and ran. The new corridor curved slightly, just enough to break the straight-line view. His lungs burned as he forced himself onward, mind racing even as his body screamed. Think. Think. Pearl had said the leeches were blind. If that was true, then sight wasn't how it was tracking him. Sound? Maybe—but he was running on moss, not stone, and the leech was making far more noise than he was. Heat? Cade dismissed that quickly. The mist was cool and clung to everything.

Any warmth he gave off would disperse almost instantly. So what was left? The answer struck him like a slap in the face. He had been breathing heavily ever since their battle with the leech swarm on the island. He had been gulping down air as he ran for his life. The giant leech must be following his breath. That had to be it. This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Back on Earth, mosquitos could track humans by the carbon dioxide they exhaled.

A chemical trail invisible to humans but unmistakable to the mosquito. If these leeches had something similar—some sense that was tuned to breath rather than blood then he was just leading it right to him with every exhale. He was panting. Gasping. Every desperate breath was another point on an easily traceable trail. He sucked in air sharply and forced himself to slow his breathing, even as his legs kept moving. It hurt. His body protested immediately, demanding oxygen, demanding relief.

But the idea of leading that thing straight to him with every exhale terrified him more. But if it was following his breath then maybe—just maybe—he could mislead it. The corridor stretched on ahead, mist swirling lazily at knee height as Cade ran, already shaping a plan even as the monstrous sound behind him refused to fade. Cade ran on, forcing his breathing into something tighter and more controlled despite the burn in his chest.

The corridor curved gently now, not enough to break pursuit entirely, but enough that the sound of the leech seemed to dull a fraction. His lungs screamed for air. His legs trembled with every step. Still, he pushed forward until the corridor opened again. Another junction. But this one was different. The mist here was thinner, stretched and wispy, allowing him to see farther—ten meters down each path.

To the right, the corridor was smooth and uniform, the moss undisturbed, the root walls flawless and uninterrupted. To the left, the ground was uneven. Pockmarks scarred the moss, shallow depressions dotting the floor, and narrow divots ran along the base of the wall as if something had attempted to claw or burrow its way through. Cade skidded to a stop even as the sound behind him surged closer. His mind raced, gears clicking into place as panic sharpened into hyperfocus.

An idea formed—reckless and desperate—but better than running until he collapsed. Cade sucked in a deep breath, then another, and another. He pivoted and sprinted down the right-hand corridor, deliberately making himself hyperventilate as he ran. His chest heaved as he forced more air through his lungs than they wanted to give. Four meters in, he expelled everything in one sharp breath and then inhaled as deeply as he could and held it. The world narrowed instantly. Pressure bloomed behind his eyes.

His heart thundered as he spun and raced back the way he'd come. He dove into the left corridor. The sound of the leech was terrifyingly close now. Cade risked a glance back and caught sight of it through the mist—a massive, undulating bulk filling the corridor, its slick body rippling as it surged forward. Cade spotted a deeper divot ahead, wider than the others, carved into the seam between wall and ground. He lunged for it, lungs already burning as his body screamed for air.

He threw himself sideways and jammed into the hollow, scraping skin and shoulder as he twisted his body to fit. It was barely large enough. He shoved the tortoise shell after him, wedging it between the ground and the wall to form a crude barrier. What little light had been present from the violet moon was now blocked as darkness closed in on him. His lungs were on fire but he clamped down on the urge to breathe. Every muscle in his chest spasmed as the seconds stretched into agony.

His vision dimmed at the edges but he forced himself to focus on just one thing—listening. He heard the leech reach the junction. He heard it stop. A wet, searching stillness followed. Cade froze, every nerve screaming as his body trembled with the effort of holding his breath. He could hear the internal churn of the creature, the slosh of stolen life within its bloated form. Then he heard the unmistakable sounds of movement as the leech surged away from him.

It followed the right-hand corridor, chasing the heavy trail of breath Cade had left behind. Cade squeezed his eyes shut and held on, counting heartbeats that threatened to tear themselves out of his chest. With each beat the sound grew more distant and eventually faded into an eerie quiet. He remained pressed into the divot. His lungs were screaming and fear hammered through him. But it wasn't until he was certain the monster had taken the bait that he allowed himself to breathe again.

He waited until his vision blurred and the pressure in his chest became unbearable. When he finally let the air out, he did so in a slow, trembling stream, careful not to let it rush free. He pressed his face down into the damp soil and moss, breathing shallowly into the earth itself, hoping the ground would swallow the sound and scent of his breath. The ache in his lungs dulled to a manageable throb. His heartbeat gradually slowed from a panicked hammering to steady throb.

Only when he was sure the leech wouldn't come back around did he dare to shift from his position. Carefully, he nudged the shell away from the opening and peered out. Mist clung to the corridor in lazy curls. The root walls stood silent and indifferent. He detected no movement, no signs the giant leech was back on his trail. Cade eased himself out of the divot. His joints felt stiffer than ever and his muscles trembled from the strain.

He moved slowly now, each step deliberate, keeping his breathing shallow as he continued down the pockmarked path away from where the leech had gone. Corridor after corridor stretched ahead, splitting and bending in ways that defied intuition. Every intersection offered the same choice—left or right—with no markings, no clues, and no sense of progress. Cade relied on instinct alone, and more often than not it tugged him leftward.

He followed it, not because he trusted it necessarily, but because he had nothing else to go by. As the panic from being chased by the giant leech had receded, a sense of unease took its place. The longer he walked, the more wrong this place felt. The walls were too smooth. Too consistent. Mangrove roots should twist and knot, should bear scars of age and struggle—but these were fused together with unnatural precision, polished to a sheen that reflected the moonlight.

It felt like this place had to be constructed for some purpose that Cade could only guess. Was this part of the Great Tree Trials? Pearl hadn't said much, but what she had shared now echoed in his mind. Once each cycle, frogs were sent to the Great Tree to participate in trials meant to test them. To prepare them to better fulfill their role in the Cycle of this realm. Cade slowed as realization crept in. This mist. These corridors. The forks in the path. Was this part of it?

Was this a trial meant to be navigated by frogs following the path of Mistweaving? But how would a Mistweaver pass this? The maze wasn't dangerous in the conventional sense. He hadn't seen any traps, there were no immediate threats, but it was disorienting. Without sightlines or markers, he could see it trapping someone indefinitely. Unless… unless you could shape the mist. Use it to guide your path through the maze. Cade exhaled softly. He didn't have that ability. All he could do was keep moving forward.

Time began to lose meaning as he walked. He couldn't tell how long he'd been wandering—minutes or hours—only that fatigue crept back into his limbs. The strength from the Stormseed had long since faded. Eventually, he reached another intersection but this one was different than the rest. Three paths branched forward instead of two, each swallowed by thick mist. Cade stopped at the junction and waited for his gut to tell him which way to go. It didn't. No pull or warning. No sense of right or wrong.

For the first time since entering the maze, Cade felt truly lost. He shifted his weight, glancing down each corridor in turn. They all had the same identical walls with identical fog. He was about to choose at random when he heard a familiar voice call out his name.

"Cade." His blood turned to ice. The voice was soft. Familiar. So achingly familiar it hurt.

"Cade," it whispered again, drifting from the left-hand passage.

"It's me." His breath caught in his chest. He knew that voice. Had known it his whole life. Long before the System came and upended everything.

"Caylee?" he whispered, the name slipping out before he could stop himself. His sister's voice answered, warm and gentle.

"I've been looking everywhere for you. Come on. Hurry. I'm right here." Cade's heart slammed against his ribs. No, that was impossible. She shouldn't be here. She couldn't be here. He was the only human inside of this dungeon. His feet shifted toward the left corridor without him telling them to. The mist ahead curled invitingly, and his sister's voice called to him once more, closer now.

"Please," Caylee said softly.

"We just want to help you."