Dod continued coughing and sneezing for a few minutes, until the dust settled and the walls stopped rising. Soon, our three companions were surrounded by these impassable walls, a veritable labyrinth stretching over several hectares.
"What the hell," began Dod, recovering from his emotions.
Poor Dod Allentown didn't have time to fully recover. As fast as light, the wall behind him slid away at full speed, skimming the ground and digging up the already battered clay.
Dod was swept away by the wall, struck on the back. Danaël gasped but reacted a fraction too late. He was separated from the princess in the process, for he let go of her for a moment and was swept away by a surrounding wall.
Danaël reached out for Evangeline's hand, but only their fingertips touched, and Danaël was swept away from the princess for good.
The wall that carried him away was heading north. In the brief instant in which the action had taken place, he had nevertheless been able to analyze that Dod's wall was carrying him southwards.
Sucked in by the pressure, his back was glued to the edges of the clay wall. The wind mixed with the clay made him cry, not as severely as Dod, but enough to obstruct his vision. It was then that Danaël made a decision he immediately regretted.
Danaël scratched the back of his neck, and his fantastic mist appeared, then, in a clean, fluid gesture, he spread the five fingers of his right and left hands to concentrate his fantasia. Despite the wind, the boy managed to bend and push to the side, enabling him to extricate himself from the building's grip.
The wall was already moving at considerable speed, and Danaël rolled over himself a dozen times before slowing down. Covered in dust, he coughed up orange smoke before dusting off his clothes and brushing the dirt from his hair. However, he barely had time to stand up before he was hit by another wall.
This time, his body simply bounced back, leaving him in the air for a brief moment, before being struck again by a wall, violently. The entire labyrinth seemed to be in motion. The walls seemed to move erratically, back and forth, masterfully colliding with each other.
Danaël didn't tempt the devil this time, but let himself be carried away by the wall. He didn't remain a mere passenger for long; the boy looked around, partially covering his eyes with the clumping dust.
"One two three from the right. Four, five, six from the left, seven, eight, nine from the middle. And it repeats."
Danaël was already assimilating the pattern of the movements of the labyrinth walls. His eyes rolled back in his sockets, trying to digest the images faster than his brain could process them.
Danaël imagined that these immense walls were nothing but notes, the notes of a well-rehearsed score. The trick was to get into the rhythm, but above all, to know the score like the back of your hand, even the occasional isolated note.
Danaël didn't have much time to apply his knowledge of the imaginary score he had invented himself, for soon the walls slowed down, little by little, kicking up more and more dust, the walls colliding and interlocking again, creating the immense labyrinth.
Danaël rose feverishly to his feet and once again dusted off his clothes, with a certain apprehension in his eyes. A massive shadow hovered over him, and Danaël looked up at the sky; the sun was setting, even in this dimension. This really wasn't what he needed right now!
Danaël approached one of the walls before picking up a small stone of clay. Then, anxious and itchy, he decided to venture into the labyrinth. He skirted the wall, taunting it with the stone he'd picked up. Danaël was almost trotting along because once night fell, getting through the labyrinth would be hell.
Minutes went by, and he moved relentlessly towards...not much after all. Young Danaël felt as if he were going round in circles. This feeling proved to be correct, for at the junction of a new bend in the road, young Danaël saw a line carved into the dirt wall on his left.
"JUST GREAT!"
Just as unpredictably as the first time, the walls began to slide again. Danaël was alerted by the rumbling of the nearby wall. He pinched the back of his neck and tried, as best he could, to concentrate his fantastic mist in his pupils.
There were still parts of his body that he had more trouble with than others when it came to concentrating his fantasia. All he did was blink hard and repeatedly.
Danaël succeeded...half-heartedly, with only his right eye bearing a fantastic black and green flame, crackling in the darkness that stretched ever wider over the entire labyrinth.
"One eye! Let's hope it's enough!" The young boy encouraged himself.
Now his visual perception heightened with the help of the fantastic mist lodged in his right eye, Danaël fell into step.
"Remember the score! Come on, one two three from the right. Four, five, six from the left, seven, eight, nine from the middle."
Danaël had dashed ahead of the advancing walls, which proved to be just enough to narrowly avoid them.
The patterns were now so ingrained in his brain that he even allowed himself to save some fantasia by removing the fantastic mist from his right eye.
Danaël danced, zigzagging instinctively between the walls, running at full speed without looking back or slowing down even a little. In any case, slowing down was simply not an option for him, as his spine might not survive another impact from a dirt wall, especially at this speed.
"If only I could control this damn fantastic mist better than this! My fucking legs are gone!"