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“Thief, remember?” He brought it to his mouth to touch his tongue against it, then spat. “Tastes like salt.”

I reached for it, but his little fingers closed tight.

“I took it when you were drinking. Delilah saw, but she said nothing. Makes me wonder if she’s really your friend.” His voice was light, almost playful, but the weight of his words pressed down like a warning.

I took a step back and tried to keep my voice even as if I could somehow trick him into thinking the necklace wasn’t valuable to me. “Give it back.”

Thief shrugged, then flicked it to me. I clutched it tight.

“Rumor has it, you know what that necklace means. I’m wondering what it would take to get you to part with it. I’ll trade for it.”

“There’s nothing I want from you.”

He smiled again, that faint, unsettling curve of his lips. “Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t. I have a pendant that would muffle the sound of that tattoo so you can hide without being seen. Or this chain bracelet which heats when danger is close. Or a compass that always points to what you desire most.”

Every one of those tempted me. But they wouldn’t win me the labyrinth. And I had a feeling my necklace was worth more, being one of Callahan’s prized necklaces.

“I think I’ll pass.”

I’d noted a wind earlier that came from further in the cave. There must be an exit there. I could get a few more hours of traveling tonight before I had to rest.

“Call for me if you change your mind. Until then…” Thief reached out, plucking a stray leaf from my hair with delicate fingers. “You better be on your way. The wolves are still hunting, and I won’t stop them for free.”

With that, he turned and walked away, vanishing into the shadows of the cave as if he had never been there at all.

I took another drink of water, then slipped from the cave.

FORTY-SIX

If it weren’t for Delilah’s cloak, the cold would have overtaken me. But thanks to the thick wool cloak the Stone God gave me, I could withstand the biting wind and freezing temperatures. It was almost enough to make me forget that she’d watched as Thief took my necklace.

Such a nice thing though—a deep, earthy green, its fabric thick and slightly coarse, stitched to endure the harshest winters. A silver clasp shaped like a crescent moon fastened it at my throat. It smelled of pines, andof summers gone by.

It made clipping my axe to my back impossible, which meant I had to carry the heavy weapon around. At least I’d be ready when someone attacked. Or perhaps they’d see me stalking through the night with my axe in my grip and think better of it.

Even with the cloak, the cold had teeth. It bit through the wool, gnawed at my fingers, and clung to my breath like a ghost. Every step I took in the labyrinth felt too loud, the crunch of snow beneath my boots echoing against the stone walls.

I tried to move slower, softer, but the silence was merciless—it swallowed every sound I made and spat it back at me, louder, sharper.

My heart thudded in my ears, an insistent drumbeat that drowned out the soft whistle of the wind snaking through the maze. Nothing else moved. Not yet.

Then footsteps came. They were quick, and headed west instead of east. Though I thought them to be from a corridor or two over, I stopped anyway, pressing my back against the rough, frostbitten wall, and held my breath. The shadows shifted as the moonlight pooled in uneven puddles on the snow. The footsteps passed. I let my breath out slowly, the sound escaping in a thin mist that curled and vanished.Keep going. My legs felt heavy, stiff from the cold and the tension that gripped every muscle. My fingers brushed the wall as I crept forward, the icy stone grounding me.

The labyrinth ahead twisted into two passageways, one that spiraled to the south and one that shot north. Both were the wrong way. Both might end up leading east, or they would turnand writhe about—narrowing, widening, looping back on themselves before spilling back to this same point.

I chose the one heading north. I counted my steps in my head to keep the panic at bay.One. Two. Three. Four.If I focused on the rhythm, I wouldn’t think about the wolves or Dimitri or Clark.

But every so often, my steps made Clark’s note crunch in my pocket and it was as if it were mocking me.

A brittle branch snapped somewhere behind me. The sound cracked through the stillness like lightning. I froze, my breath catching in my throat, and strained to listen.

Silence.

The kind that made my skin crawl. The kind that whispered I wasn’t alone.

My fingers trembled as they tightened around my axe. My thumb ran along the familiar grooves of the handle, an anchor in the chaos. I didn’t dare draw my dagger too—not yet. Metal scraped against leather far too loudly, and I couldn’t afford to give myself away.

The moon slipped behind a cloud, plunging the labyrinth into shadow. My breathing hitched as the darkness pressed in, the labyrinth’s walls closing tighter around me. I needed to move. Standing still made me a target, a waiting meal.