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But the words wouldn’t come. He was my last chance to win the Silver Wings. And some things were too hard to let go of.

Instead, I said, “Thank you for saving me earlier.”

“Always,” he replied.

I fell asleep with my heart in my throat.

August grew up in the wealthy heart of the Hundred Islands, apprenticing under the most renowned apothecary while engaged to the prettiest girl on the seas.

When the labyrinth opened, he sought his fortune just like many others. But August had tricks up his sleeves.

Poisons.

He slipped through the night, slaying all he came across with a simple sniff of his tonics. Never has the death toll been as high as it was that year.

Yet August failed to realize that his beloved had followed him into the labyrinth. Seeing his tricks, she turned her back on him, leaving her ring behind.August won that year, and took home his prize to reclaim his girl.

But she’d married another already.

Rejected, August threw himself into his work.He became even more renowned than his master, and the Hundred Islands had never seen a more talented apothecary. But he’d lost his taste for the world.

When the labyrinth opened next, August abandoned the mortal land to throw himself into the labyrinth. This time, his potions weren’t designed to kill, they were to aid the competitors. Seeing a place for him in the walls, Dimitri asked him to stay, and now he makes potions to either aid or to hinder the competitors.

August is not as calloused as the others.

But you never know whose side he’s truly on.

TWENTY-FIVE

When I woke, I knew something was wrong. The nighttime colors were too saturated, the hunger in my stomach gone, and my fatigued muscles felt as if I’d slept on a bed of clouds instead of a root-ridden ground.

The next realization hit harder.

I was alone.

I lifted to my feet before spotting a figure braced against the side of a tree, a pear in his hand. He watched me with great interest, like I was an act he’d paid to see. An invisible string pulled at thecorners of his lips.

“What do you want?” I asked with a scowl.

He didn’t move. Just watched unashamed. “To see who you are when you dream.”

When I dream? I checked under my shirt to find my wound gone. Not healed, just…gone.

My sight returned to him. “You’re a Stone God, aren’t you?”

He pushed off from the tree, his long legs making quick work of striding through the forest until he stopped near me. “Does that frighten you?”

Perhaps when I was awake, it would. But sleeping made me bold. “No.”

His mouth twisted in amusement. Bright green eyes wandered to my necklace where they hovered a few beats before pulling away. I took him in as he studied me. He adorned himself in layers of black—his riding gloves, a long cloak, even the color of his shoulder-length hair—paired with a sharp nose, angled eyes, and a smile sharp enough to draw blood. In his hand was a thick candlestick dripping white wax. The small flame cast a golden glow over the forest.

The only true color came from a ruby ring on his smallest finger.

“Which one are you?”

His eyes met mine. “The fun one. They call me August Apothecary.”

I got the feeling he dealt more in poisons than medicine.