The Gauntlet (The Cage 3)

She glanced again at Bonebreak’s torn shielding, fighting a sharp wave of grief for the Mosca. She shook her head. “I won’t let you do this.”

“My life will be in your hands. And I trust you.”

The room lurched again sharply. Someone screamed, and a terrible sound came from the rafters. Metal squealed. Wires sparked. The roof peeled a few feet away from the walls as wind and rain and sleet pelted them. The storm was snarling its way in.

“Come on!” Cassian yelled above the roar.

The central vestibule had almost entirely turned on its side now, with the Axion and others hanging on to the fixtures to keep from falling. One of the Axion tried to swing for the portal door, but Serassi gave him a sharp kick, and he tumbled down. Cassian helped Cora climb toward the door. She protested, shaking her head.

He met her eyes.

And then he threw them both into the Gauntlet.

36

Cora

THE PORTAL DOOR DISAPPEARED behind them.

For a second, Cora fought to catch her breath in the darkness. The door had sealed out the sounds of the battle, but the newfound quiet was an illusion. She knew her friends were just on the other side of the wall, fighting for their lives, and that the storm was tearing the structure apart.

“Cassian?” She coughed out smoke. She reached toward the darkness, fingers grasping nothing. “Cassian, where are you?”

“Cora? I’m here.”

She stumbled toward his voice. “Where? I can’t see you!”

The walls began to emit a faint light. It grew like a sunrise and she spun around, searching for him, fearful of what else might lurk in the room with them. There were tall pillars in the chamber, obscuring her view. Her senses felt heightened and more alert thanks to Serassi’s injection, and as she wove around the pillars in the faint light, intuition told her that something about this chamber wasn’t what it seemed. Then—there. A shape took form in the light. Tall, impossibly muscular. Cassian. He was on the opposite side of the room, clutching his hurt arm, his back to her as he searched for her amid the pillars.

“Cassian!”

He spun and their eyes met. She let out a sob of relief and ran toward him, weaving around the pillars. He held out a hand, and she reached for it. “Thank god. . . .” Her fingers brushed the warmth of his palm.

And then she was falling.

She screamed as her hand was wrenched from his. A panel in the floor had dropped open. It happened so fast that she didn’t have time to grab for the edges, even with the faster reflexes the paragon burst gave her. She was plunging into darkness.

She slammed into a hard floor below, wincing.

Overhead, Cassian’s face appeared in the opening. “Cora! Hold on—”

But the floor sealed before he could finish.

She was alone.

For a few moments, all she could hear was her own heartbeat in the darkness, thumping irregular and quick, as though there were many hearts inside her own. The lights in the new puzzle chamber began to gradually illuminate. Was she still in puzzle nine? Or had she fallen into a new puzzle altogether? The lights rose, casting shadows over a chamber that was bare except for a central table. She tried to remember everything Willa had told her about this round.

They will make it personal, Willa had said. They need to know that the Gauntlet is real for you.

Cora started to push to her feet, but the chamber suddenly lurched sidewise. She gasped as she crouched back down on the floor, steadying herself, heart pounding. The storm was growing stronger. She didn’t have much time.

She waited a few seconds. Thankfully, the room didn’t lurch again.

She went to the table. The lights were bright enough now to make out a three-dimensional model on the table’s surface. It was a simple cube, made of glowing laser lines, just like the model of the Gauntlet that Cassian had once shown her. In that model, a tiny holographic runner had made its way through each of the puzzle chambers, demonstrating how the Gauntlet worked.

But this laser model was just a single cube. She waited impatiently for something to change. Seconds passed and nothing happened. She shook the table, trying to jar it into action.

“Come on! I don’t have much time!”

Slowly, the laser outlines changed color. The cube started to expand. Cora stepped back, not wanting to accidentally get in its way. More laser lines appeared as the cube expanded, forming another cube, and then another on top, until there were twelve cubes in all: a model of the full Gauntlet. Each cube was a different color: red, blue, green, and yellow. Only it wasn’t a generic model, like the one Cassian had shown her. It was this Gauntlet. There were tiny holographic stalks of corn in one of the cubes and a miniature piano in another. Three cubes were empty—the puzzles she hadn’t solved yet—but otherwise the cubes’ colors corresponded to the different types of puzzles she’d gone through so far. The first was red, a moral puzzle, which had been the temptation to cheat. The second was green, an intellectual one. She inspected the cubes until she found one with a tiny table—the very chamber she was in. It was green.

Another intellectual puzzle.

She drew away from the Gauntlet model warily. Why would the stock algorithm give her a hint, even one as simple as the type of puzzle she was in? Did she dare trust it?

As she watched, a tiny holographic runner appeared in the first cube. She leaned in, peering closer. The runner had buzzed hair, a torn uniform, and tiny holographic drops of blood dripping from his arm.

Her face paled.

The holographic runner was a model of Cassian. She looked around at the walls, wondering if he was still trapped in the chamber overhead.

A gray holographic line started to rise from the floor in the chamber where Cassian stood. She leaned closer, anxious. What did it mean? With the laser’s imperfect representation she couldn’t be sure, until she saw the tiny holographic figure lifting his feet and waving his arms. Almost as if he were . . .

Swimming, Leon’s voice said in her head.

The gray line means water, Rolf’s voice added.

Cora’s eyes widened. The stock algorithm was flooding the first chamber with water. If this was a model of what was really happening in the other chambers, Cassian was going to drown.

And suddenly the puzzle made sense: Cassian was the puzzle.

She had to figure out how to save him.

She circled the table with quick steps, wetting her lips. The ceiling suddenly groaned and she glanced upward. A battle was raging outside, and a storm. She didn’t have time for guessing games.

Think!

She studied the three-dimensional model, her thoughts whirling faster than ever. She could almost feel Rolf in her head, his DNA boosting her own intelligence. Her thoughts felt crisper, more analytical. The flooded chamber that Cassian was in was sealed except for a single door, which was above Cassian’s head. He wasn’t a strong swimmer, judging by the holographic figure’s movements. He’d drown before the water rose high enough for him to reach the door. If there were only some way she could rotate the chamber he was in and put the doorway on the side so the water would drain out . . .

She reached out, fingers grazing the hologram, relieved to find it was solid. The laser lines hummed beneath her fingers as she carefully lifted the model, unsure if what she did to the model would actually change the Gauntlet itself. Slowly, she twisted the flooded chamber around so that the door was now on the bottom, letting the water drain, giving Cassian an escape path. The entire model moved with it—the cubes didn’t move interchangeably. She watched with relief as the water drained and the Cassian figure stopped swimming, crouched as though to catch his breath, and then dropped down into the next chamber, the candy store. But that chamber began filling with water even more rapidly. She turned the model again, but the water just flowed through the one open door straight into the next cube.

It was a spatial reasoning puzzle: an enormous Rubik’s Cube, with her friend’s life at sta

ke. She had to figure out a safe path for Cassian to get through each of the chambers without drowning, yet every chamber she twisted affected all the others. The more doors she opened for him, the more water would flow from one to another. He’d be drowned by the time he made it to the end.

Her mind raced as she looked between the different chambers. Rolf’s analytical voice hummed in her mind. There is the room with a floor of lava . . . the lava might evaporate the water if you can get Cassian that far. But that was puzzle seven, and Cassian was only at puzzle two and already the water was rising high.

She needed something closer. . . .

The high ropes course!

Puzzle four was full of trees, bridges, and rope swings. If she could get Cassian to that one, he could climb the rope and exit through the top. Gravity would keep the water from flowing into the next puzzle, buying him some time. She twisted the model again so the door was on the side. Cassian climbed—or rather swam—into puzzle three, the hunting room. His arms were moving fast now—he was swimming as hard as he could, and the gray line was nearly at the top of the chamber. As quickly as she could she twisted the model again, opening a door in the bottom to puzzle four. Water poured out, taking Cassian with it, and for a second she held her breath as the tiny figure of Cassian free-fell into the trees, plunging toward the ground. At the last minute, he reached out an arm and caught himself on the rope ladder.

She let out a tense breath. “Come on, Cassian. Climb. Hurry.”

The water was quickly filling the forest puzzle, but at least it would have to fill the entire chamber first before spilling into the next. Cassian climbed slowly, with his wounded arm, into puzzle five, the cornfield, which he was able to run through into puzzle six, the electric shock room. Judging by the gray line, there were a few inches of water on the ground, enough to make the electric wiring snap and smoke dangerously. If he touched the water, he’d likely be electrocuted. Cora bit her lip and shook the model hard enough for the electric wires to fall loose from the ceiling. Cassian used to them to swing jungle style over the floor, into puzzle seven, the lava room. Here, the rising water was for once a blessing, as it extinguished the lava so that he could dash across it. Cora’s heart pounded as she twisted the model as quickly as she could, opening doorways for him as fast as he was running through the maze.

“Almost there,” she muttered. A drip of water suddenly landed on her forehead and she looked up. She didn’t know if it was from the puzzle or the storm.

She looked back at the puzzle. “Shit!”