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T his time Marjani took the lead, since the maze had narrowed to where they had to walk single file.

The path twisted and turned, but she simply consulted her quartz at each intersection.

At first there were only a few openings, but then doors and forks in the path started appearing every few yards, forcing her to keep referring to her quartz.

Midnight came and went. Fane halted. “We should’ve reached the east tower by now. Hell, we’ve had time to walk around the whole damn castle.”

She frowned down at her quartz. “As far as I can tell, we're basically where we started. It’s like the entire structure has been twisted into a new form. It’s not anything like it was last week.” She scowled. “How the hell does he do that? Keep us walking but never going anywhere?”

“I don’t know, but it’s fucking brilliant. Even if someone breaks in, he can keep them wandering and confused for as long as he wants. Sometimes he doesn’t bother to send the guards to get intruders, just waits until they collapse from hunger and exhaustion.”

Her chest tightened. She raised her gaze to Fane’s.

“It’s almost one o'clock. We’ve spent close to three hours trying to get out already, and we haven’t gone anywhere.”

“Hey.” Fane rubbed her arms. “He hasn’t won yet.”

“No? I feel like a fucking lab rat, running on a wheel as fast as I can without getting anywhere.”

A low chuckle sounded from somewhere nearby. She whipped out her switchblade and turned in a slow circle, but there was no one to be seen.

Fane blew out a breath. “It’s just Sindre, messing with your mind. You have to fight it.”

Weak. You’re weak.

“Sorry.” She returned the switchblade to her pocket. “You’re right.”

Fane pointed left down yet another narrow passage. “I don’t think we've tried this way yet.”

Once again, they followed the path around what felt like the entire castle. She tried to key into the maze’s underlying logic like she had before, but there didn’t seem to be an underlying logic anymore.

Then things got worse. The tiled floor turned into a bog.

They slogged through it, feet sinking into slimy black muck, the icy water sloshing around their calves. Marjani frowned. Something seemed funny, and then she realized what it was. All she smelled was the faint scent of silver.

“Wait.” She grabbed Fane’s arm. “If it’s really a bog, it should stink like a rotten egg. But it doesn’t.”

His nostrils flared. “You’re right.”

“It’s not real,” she said. “It’s another illusion.”

They continued walking, more confidently now. But the icy water rose higher until it was at their waists, then their chests. Fane shrugged out of the backpack and held it above his head.

“Just in case,” he said.

When it reached her throat, Marjani had trouble convincing herself that the bog wasn’t real. The cold seeped into her bones and her feet felt like blocks of ice.

She stumbled and knew a moment of stark terror when the black water closed over her head. She came up, choking and coughing. Fane grabbed her, and she clung to him, shaking with cold.

“Get on my back,” he said.

She shook her head. “I’m okay,” she said between chattering teeth. “You’re…the one…hurt.”

“Get on my back,” he repeated evenly. “The man’s a genius at illusions. If he convinces you that you’re drowning, you will. It won’t matter that it’s all in your head. Your lungs will seize and you’ll die anyway.”

She gave a hard shiver and sucked in another mouthful of water.

“ Now , Jani.”

“Okay, okay.”

He shifted her to his back. Slinging the backpack over a shoulder, she twined her arms and legs around him and Fane continued slogging his way through the water. He was half-walking, half-swimming now.

Then Sindre took pity on them—or more likely, he didn’t want to actually kill them, just scare the crap out of them. After all, he couldn’t enforce a geas on a dead person.

Whatever the reason, the land sloped up. When the water reached Fane’s waist, she slid off and walked alongside him until they stepped onto the dry blue tiles again.

Marjani instinctively started to scrape the greenish-black slime off her arms and hands—and then swore under her breath. “I’m clean.” She held up her hands for Fane to see.

“Me, too.” He showed her his own unsoiled hands.

“Holy mother, he’s good.”

Fane nodded grimly. “What time is it?”

“Two-thirty.”

“Less than four hours.”

Their eyes met. She knew his thoughts must be running along the same lines as hers. What did it matter if they had four hours or four minutes? They were no closer to escaping the castle than when they’d left the north tower.

Weak.

She dragged a weary hand over her face, her mouth gritty. “I’d kill for a glass of water.”

“Yeah.” He squared his shoulders, but his lean face was gaunt. The man was running on fumes.

Then they both froze as a door opened in the unending white wall, but it was only Ula, dressed for bed in a plain cotton nightgown, her hair in a long black braid. In her hand was a large glass of nectar.

“You didn’t get this from me.” She shoved it at Fane.

He took it and handed it to Marjani. “You first.”

“No, you.”

“Hurry,” the river fada hissed. “Arne’s distracting him, but I don’t have much time.”

“We’ll split it.” Marjani drained half the glass. It was just what she needed, quenching her thirst and spreading warmth through her tired and chilled body.

She handed the nectar to Fane, and he gulped down the rest before returning the empty glass to Ula. He touched her arm. “Thank you.”

“Yes.” Marjani gave her a quick hug.

The other woman jerked her head in acknowledgement, and then slipped back through the door. It closed behind her and the wall smoothed out as if nothing was there.

Fane rubbed his forehead. “Was she really here, or was that just another hallucination?”

“She was here.” Marjani rose on her toes to whisper, “We have a deal, me and her. When I get home, I promised to give a message to her family, but I think she would’ve helped us anyway.”

He nodded. “She’s a good woman,” he whispered back. “And thank the gods for that, because I feel much better.”

They kissed, and for a few seconds, Marjani forgot all about Sindre and the maze as a warm, needful ache spread through her lower abdomen.

The quartz was outside her hoodie, nestled on her chest between them. Fane lifted his head and traced his fingers down her neck. A lazy turquoise light swirled inside the smoky gray and purple, and he lightly stroked a thumb over it.

Marjani tensed, but it didn’t hurt—it felt good. She lifted her gaze to his. “No one can touch our quartzes but close friends or family—or a mate.”

“Sorry.” He lifted his thumb. “I didn’t know.”

“Don’t be.” She moved his thumb back to the quartz. “When it’s you touching me, it feels good, like you’re stroking me.”

“Yeah?” His grin was wicked. “Like I’m stroking you where?”

She slanted him a look from beneath her lashes. “Where do you think?”

Against her belly, his cock jerked and lengthened. “You’re a bad woman to tease me right now.”

“Am I?” She extended a single claw and scraped it down his cheek, shadowed with his night beard. “I think I like being bad.”

“Hold that thought, okay?” He put his mouth to her ear. “When we get out of here, I’m going to fuck you, so hard. But right now we have a maze to solve. And I have an idea. The illusions are designed to trick our senses, right?”

She pulled back to look up at him. “Yeah. Why?”

“The eyes are easier to trick than the sense of touch. So why don’t we try closing our eyes? Then we can feel our way along the wall and—”

“We should be able to tell what’s really there,” she finished, hope springing up in her. “Let’s try it.”

They agreed that Fane would lead while she held onto him so they wouldn’t lose each other. She looped the fingers of her left hand through his belt, setting the other hand on the wall.

“Ready,” she said, closing her eyes, and he started walking. Within seconds, the wall changed and straightened out.

She caught her breath. “I think it’s working.”

“Me, too.” He picked up the pace.

Another ten minutes had passed when they heard a high-pitched gibbering. Goblins, and from the sound of it, headed straight for them.

Her eyes flew open.

“This way.” Fane jerked her into a tiny alcove with barely enough room for them to stand side by side.

The gibbering grew louder. A small pack of the short, wild-eyed creatures streamed around a curve, animal skins draped over their shoulders and tied around their thick waists as loin cloths, pointed teeth gleaming. Their stench hit her like a shovel to the gut.

She slapped a hand to her mouth and tried not to wretch. “No illusion.”

“Yep. Pretty sure those fuckers are real.” He took short, shallow breaths.

“Take this.” She released the catch on her switchblade and shoved it at him. “I’ll fight clawed.”

“Have I mentioned I haven’t a bloody idea how to use this thing?”

“It’s iron. You don’t have to know how to use it.” She kept her gaze on the screeching goblins. “Just cut them anywhere and it will hurt. Even better, aim for their eyes—or balls.”

“Remind me never to make you angry.”

The pack was almost upon them—only five goblins. Sindre was giving them a sporting chance.

She bared her teeth and took a fighting stance, knees bent, claws out.

Beside her, Fane mirrored her stance, the switchblade up and ready, his other arm bent at the elbow to block blows. He gestured with one hand. “Come on, you bastards.”

In spite of their danger, she let out a huff of amusement. The man was a fast learner—or a talented actor. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was a trained soldier.

With a howl, the goblins were upon them.

But this time, Marjani and Fane had the advantage. The two of them might be outnumbered, but they had their backs to the wall, so the goblins had to attack them head-on.