Slowly, she climbed to her feet. Her legs trembled and cold sweat dampened her face. That had been the most harrowing ride ever.
“Thanks,” she said, picking up the grav-board.
She couldn’t tell if it was damaged beyond repair, but, regardless, she wasn’t going to leave it behind. There was plenty of room in her inventory. Giving the blade-nicked edge a last pat, she stowed the board away.
The swords still rose and fell between her and the doorway, though with much less vigor than before. That danger was behind her.
Now she only had to face whatever was ahead.
Spark scanned the marble hall. The silver apple shone temptingly from its niche, but she knew better than to just dash forward and try to grab it. Instead, she pulled her bow from her back and extended it in front of her.
With a whoosh, a thick wall of glass slid across the hall, nearly severing the tip of her bow—and blocking her from reaching the apple. She yanked her bow back, then, when nothing else happened, used the end to tap on the glass. The weapon didn’t burst into flames or start dissolving, so she stepped up and touched her fingers to the glass.
It was cool and smooth, and her fingertips left smudges on the surface. Spark strode the length of the wall and felt along the seam where the glass met marble. No gap. The other side was the same.
She leaned back, looking up the flat expanse. The ceiling was gone, which shouldn’t have surprised her. The glass wall extended up and up, into a pale sky filled with puffy clouds. It was impossible to tell if the wall ever ended.#p#分页标题#e#
There had to be some way to get through. She tried her dagger blade, but it didn’t scratch the surface. Banging the pommel against the glass didn’t do anything, either. Her close-range arrow bounced off, careening dangerously past Spark’s head before disappearing into the field of swords. And the wall seemed to absorb every spell she threw at it.
Well. Hoping she was right about the three wishes, she rubbed the copper apple again. For a second she considered asking for magic beans, but there was an easier way than climbing a vine and fighting a giant up in the clouds. Besides, that storyline had already been done.
“Laser cutter,” she said.
The apple opened, emitted its glitter and light, then snapped shut. At Spark’s feet lay a laser cutter, just like the kind her dad used in his contracting business. She put the apple back in her inventory, then picked up the laser.
It hummed when she turned it on, and it didn’t take long for her to cut a ragged oval in the glass wall. Mental fingers crossed, she set her palm in the center and pushed. For a second the glass resisted, and then the oval fell out. It hit the marble floor and shattered, crashing into long, glittering splinters. Clearly the fey folk hadn’t heard about safety glass.
Spark put the cutter away and ducked through the hole she’d made, careful to avoid treading on the shards of broken glass. She drew her boot dagger and took a cautious step down the hall, the words of her spells at the tip of her tongue, her senses alert.
One hard challenge, one easy one. These things usually went in threes, and she hoped the last challenge wouldn’t prove deadly.
With her next step, she heard music—a lilting melody backed by a swift-strumming rhythm. She glimpsed motion out of the corner of her eye, and whirled around. Nothing.
She turned back to face the end of the hall, and caught her breath at the light and energy before her. Graceful dancers turned and dipped on the floor, their faces strange and beautiful, their hair sheened with starlight. Most had wings sprouting from the backs of their elegant evening clothes: jewel-bright butterfly wings, gossamer wisps of light, the translucent panes of a dragonfly, and the dusty feathers of night moths.
Glowing orbs flickered and bobbed over the dancers, and the music was so strong it set her feet to tapping. She bent and tucked her knife back into its boot sheath. Beyond the throng of dancers, the silver apple shone.
Timing her steps to the music, Spark slipped between the nearest couple. Whenever she saw an opening, she darted through. Yes! She was getting closer and closer.
At last she gained the edge of the marble dance floor. She looked up in triumph—only to see that somehow she’d ended up back where she had begun. Instead of standing in front of the niche holding the silver apple, she faced the hole in the glass wall, the floor around her still sparkling and dangerous.
Dammit. She turned to face the dancers once more. Tapping her lip with one finger, she watched the swirls and patterns of the dance. Maybe she’d gotten turned around in there. One more try, and if that didn’t work, she’d have to change tactics.
This time, the dancers appeared to be more aware of her. She was jostled a number of times, and once a cat-eyed maiden hissed at her. When Spark reached the edge, she wasn’t too surprised to find herself before the glass wall once more.