Page 85
Story: Quarter Labyrinth
“Faster!” Clark shouted. He was close on my heels, his wild red curls sticking to his forehead as sweat mingled with the grime smudging his face.
The low growl of the wolves sent chills crawling up my spine.
“They're gaining!” I gasped. We veered sharply around a corner. The walls here seemed to close in tighter, the narrow pathway barely wide enough for us to run side by side. The familiar hedges were back, just like the kinds of labyrinth I’d grown up imagining. Never did myimaginations draw up the blood though. It hardened on my skin, blood from Harald, blood from me. Clark was coated in his and Astrid’s.
If we didn’t escape the wolves, there’d be more blood spilled.
My heart pounded in my ears as I spotted an alcove up ahead, its shadows dense and terrifying. Before I could turn the other direction, Clark grabbed my arm.
“This way!” He yanked me toward the alcove.
We ducked into the crevice just as the pack thundered past. The wolves' massive paws pounded the stone like war drums. The lead wolf slowed, its nose skimming the ground as it sniffed for our trail, its growl reverberating through the confined space.
I pressed myself against the cold stone, trying to quiet my breathing. My heartbeat tattoo thundered wildly. Clark crouched beside me, his body tense, a dagger clenched tightly in his hand. His eyes met mine.
I saw nothing but calm confidence in them. Even with the snarling and snapping beside us.
My fingers closed around the necklace from Delilah.Shield us from them,I begged.
The lead wolf paused just feet from our hiding spot, its ears swiveling as its glowing eyes scanned the path. I bit my lip, tasting blood, and prayed it couldn’t hear the frantic hammering of my tattoo.
Clark shifted, slowly inching his dagger into a better grip, but I reached out. My fingers brushed his arm to stop him.
The wolf’s head snapped toward our hiding place. Its lip curled to reveal jagged teeth. My breath hitched as its growl deepened.
A howl echoed in the distance, and the wolf stiffened, ears pricked. Then, with a snarl, it turned and bolted after its pack, disappearing into the maze.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. My legs shook beneath me. I gripped the wall for support. “That was too close,” I whispered. My voice trembled.
Clark exhaled sharply, leaning his head back against the stone. “They’re not done yet. We need to move before they double back.”
I nodded, swallowing my fear as I pulled myself upright.
We ran until I didn’t smell blood anymore.
Until I didn’t see the glint of the white stone of surrender in the sky.
Until I didn’t hear the ghost of Gunnar singing in the wind.
But when we stopped running, it all came back.
“If we’d only left the group earlier,” I said. I bent over to get proper air. The labyrinth stretched endlessly ahead, its walls towering high like jagged stone teeth gnashing at the sky. Had we been here before? It all looked the same. Without the direction of east guiding us, I’d have gotten lost ten times over.
“We should have left earlier,” I said again. My fingers fumbled with my flask but I couldn’t seem to make sense of it. The flask dropped and the last of my water spilled. “We shouldn’t have come.”
I trembled, teeth clattering together and bones feeling too fragile to keep me upright.
A wolf howled, and I jumped a mile.
My back hit the cold, rough stone of the labyrinth wall, breaths coming fast and shallow. My chest heaved as a suffocating panic clawed its way through me. The dim light barely illuminated the twisting paths ahead, and every shadow seemed alive, shifting, waiting to pounce.
“I can’t—” My voice broke, and I slid to the ground, clutching my knees to my chest. “I can’t do this, Clark. I can’t.”
Clark knelt beside me, his own breathing uneven. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, his voice low and calm. He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”
My head snapped up, my wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto his. “We’re not okay. We lost them, they’re hunting us, and—”
“Ren.” His voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Look at me.”
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