They took path after path with reckless abandon, the danger of the plant beasts a far more pressing matter than getting lost.
That decision soon came back to bite them, however, as they ran into a dead end.
'Shit,' Morne thought, coming to a stop.
"What now?" wheezed Geleb, who tried his best to keep his voice down. A task easier said than done, as his body felt like it was at the breaking point. As soon as they had stopped, he had collapsed onto his knees. "We can't go back the way we came."
As if to prove this point, an indignant roar shook the walls behind them, announcing the presence of one of the beasts.
Morne, who had been scanning the walls for any possible way to get out of this predicament, had an idea pop into his head when he heard that roar.
If the beasts and even the grass underfoot could feel pain in this place, why couldn't the walls?
Turning to the wall in front of him, he took a deep breath to calm himself and reached for his Chimh.
"Splinter shot," he said as quietly as he could.
The blob splattered against the grassy wall, and within seconds it was curling away from the stricken stalk, trying to flee the source of its anguish. Ahead, the next five walls did the same, opening a path straight ahead.
"Can you make it, or do I need to drag you again?" Morne asked, turning to Geleb.
"I don't think I can even stand," panted Geleb.
Another roar, this one angry and coming from a different direction.
"But… I do have something," Geleb said after a while, the fear jogging his memory. "Wind carry me."
A rush of Chimh filled Geleb's mind, burying his exhaustion to the deepest recesses of his mind. It was still very much there, but no longer was it at the forefront of his thoughts.
His limbs were still tired, his lungs still on fire, and his stamina still near empty, but now he could ignore those with enough effort, something he could easily do by concentrating on maintaining the continuous Spell.
Morne helped the noble up and they sprung into motion, bolting through the openings as they closed behind them.
"I only have enough Chimh for one more Spell," Morne warned. "We need to find the exit, and find it fast."
This time it was Geleb's turn to remain quiet, too busy was he with his Spell. Despite this, he managed to spare enough brain power to point in a direction.
"Are you sure?" Morne asked. If Geleb was wrong, they wouldn't live to regret it.
Geleb nodded seriously, brows still furrowed in concentration.
This was a guess, but an educated one. The last trial's exit had been directly across from the entrance, and he saw little reason for that to change now, especially with what he knew about the ancient Nasnami.
Based on his memory, the entrance should be behind them, which meant that the exit would be in the direction he pointed.
Morne nodded back, pointing a finger in the indicated direction. "Splinter shot."
Five more openings appeared, and through them, Morne could see a stone door.
With victory within reach, they took off again, pushing their bodies as far as they would go.
Behind them, they heard a string of growls, and put their everything into going faster.
The door swung open at their approach and slammed shut when they entered. They heard scrabbling and scratching as one of the beasts tried to enter, and a furious roar when it failed.
Since they were safe, Geleb released his Spell, and instantly fell flat on his face as all of their flight's fatigue hit him at once.
He sunk into a deep sleep, blood dripping from his nose, and was unresponsive to Morne's prodding.
'Guess we're resting here,' Morne thought to himself, sitting against the wall and focusing on his breathing.
He leaned his head against the wall and took deep, heaving breaths, contemplating his near-death experience.
It could only be said that he was quite lucky to still be alive.
If that plant monster had gone for him instead of Earl…
Morne had no illusions as to his own strength. After seeing how that beast had torn Earl apart like wet paper, Morne knew he would have been powerless to stop himself from suffering the same fate.
And it pissed him off.
He had made that Trade with the Coltha for two reasons. The first was to take his life into his own hands. He was tired of being ordered around by people who didn't give two shits if he lived or died.
The second was to avenge his village. He wanted those murderous pigs to suffer as his friends had suffered, to feel their entire world come crashing down around them as they had done to him.
So far, he had proven incapable of doing the first, which meant the second was far away from him.
His execution in the book's trial, his encounter with the Knife-Tongues, and now this temple. And before those, there were his years as a slave, and the day his village was massacred.
Time and time again, Morne's future was determined for him, with no input from himself. The powerful could toss him in a room on a whim and tell him to die for their amusement, and he'd be powerless to stop it. And indeed, wasn't that what had just happened with these last two trials?
He was sick of it.
Sick of the orders, sick of his life being toyed with by someone who viewed him as a plaything to mess with and throw away when they got bored.
He was weak. So utterly weak.
And it was time to change that.
As soon as he got out of this temple, he'd search for the Coltha's second book. He'd learn its secrets, expand his knowledge, become stronger, and continue to do so until no one could tell him what to do anymore.
He would be the master of his own fate. Not the Coltha, not the Gods, and certainly not this extinct civilization of snake-tongued bastards.
But first, he had to survive this.
Reaching this point in his thoughts, all his anger flowed away like filth in the rain, leaving behind only a calm mind free of worry as he steeled his resolve.
He had come too far to die now.