Page 11

We found someone who offered baked turkey legs sent twice a season, and each paid for our own. Another would send boiled eggs. Once those were taken care of, I only had three coppers left. My gaze wandered back to the shop selling poisons, but Clark pointed straight ahead.

“Books! Those could give us clues about the inside of the labyrinth.”

I followed his finger to a tent of emerald green with turquoise stripes, where an oil lantern hung from a crooked rod to swing in the wind. The merchant was a middle-aged man with enough strength to lift half the books in his shop at one time, who sat by the light of his lamp reading a book as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Most avoided his shop, going for the obvious ones like poison or weapons, but Clark lit up as if he’d just discovered a direct tunnel to the heart of the labyrinth.

“That’s perfect. Let’s grab the largest one,” I said.

At my tone, or perhaps the oddity that the words came from my lips, Clark shot me a look.

“So we have kindling,”

I finished.

“There it is. Fine, don’t come if you don’t wish. I’m going to look.”

He strode in, while I slipped away. We regrouped five minutes later, him with a skinny tome in his hands, and me with the last of my coppers spent.

“Do I want to know?”

he asked, eyeing the heart-shaped glass bottle with an amethyst lid that I tucked away.

“No more than I want to know about the book.”

His mouth tugged into a disapproving line.

I’d acquired a small bag from the merchant, and cinched it shut now. With an axe on my back and a bag at my side, I felt much more prepared for the labyrinth. Even if my purse ran dry. “Relax,”

I said when Clark neglected to follow me toward the labyrinth.

“I’m not going to use it on you. And it’s not deadly.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

But his steps started.

I hadn’t lied. The vial wouldn’t kill anyone.

Spray the mist, and whoever it touches will become stone for five minutes. But be wary. The magic is yours now that you’ve paid the price. But this magic is weak. It can only be used twice.

I’d use it wisely. Five minutes might not be a lot, but it could win me the game.

A bell rang out over the island. We swung to see the lighthouse, sitting sentinel upon the cliffs of the island, doubling as a clocktower. Everyone watched in silence as it struck twelve times, then a commanding voice rumbled over the rocky island.

“Today is the final day of admission. All those not inside the labyrinth by sundown will not be allowed in.”

As his words ended, the stillness of the island broke. The sun was still hours away from rising, let alone setting, but almost everyone in the market finished their exchanges and ran toward the tall, labyrinth walls.

Clark and I exchanged a look, then broke into a run.

We went to the gate first. Others were already there, trying to pry the doors open. The black iron refused to move. The hinges didn’t so much as squeak. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, torn between throwing myself at the thorny walls and staying back to think it out. Clark was a steady sea beside me, while I was the ever-changing tide. I leaned closer to him, trying to siphon some of his calmness to use against my beating heart.

It didn’t work. Standing this close to the Quarter Labyrinth made my heart like a hammer against my ribs.

Around us, everything threw themselves toward the gate. The sidebars clung to the edges of the maze too tightly for any to slide through its cracks, though many pried at the tangles of the hedge anyway, as if making their fingers bleed could earn them entrance.

“Perhaps there’s a puzzle somewhere on the gate.”

I took in the black bars welded into the shape of wings.

“Or a passcode we must whisper, or an offering we must give.”

Clark looked not only at the gate, but also toward everything around us.

“There’s got to be a clue somewhere on how to enter. How did Seaweeds get into the other laybrinths?”

He asked the question loud enough for others to hear, but either they didn’t know, or no one deigned to share. I wouldn’t, if I knew.

“Excuse me, Seaweeds.”

Someone dressed in leathers with a sturdy pack pushed through us as if we were stray cats in the road. He pulled out a key and stuck it in the hole. The golden key vanished, and the gate opened.

Everyone threw themselves toward it at once. But it was as if there was an invisible force keeping them out. It threw everyone back ten paces, their bodies sliding in the dirt. A few didn’t rise. They landed in uncomfortable angles, their limbs bent wrong and eyes rolled up.

The man stepped over the fallen bodies and crossed harmlessly into the labyrinth.

“Take my advice and go home. Seaweeds die in the maze.”

he said to us. Then, with a look at the fallen, he added.

“Some die outside the maze.”

I stared at the slip of inside the labyrinth, hardly making out shapes before the gate snapped closed again, and a black veil threw itself against the bars. Not only could we not enter, we couldn’t even see inside.

Someone released a blood-curdling scream, throwing herself at one of the fallen boys. She prodded him as her tears fell like rain on his skin, but he didn’t stir. His chest didn’t move.

My stomach dropped. Just like that, three had died.

Those who took the death quicker than others were already at the gate again, trying to get in. When nothing else worked, they climbed. It’d be a long ascent—and a fatal fall—but the risk was easily worth taking.

A few steps up, and the girl who attempted screamed. She fell, then looked at her hands. Seared, red marks spread, followed by blisters.

“It burns you if you try to climb!”

She shouted. The others who’d just started quickly let go, save for one. When he too got burned, the rest stopped trying.

“This isn’t the way in,”

I whispered.

“Not for Seaweeds.”

I was doing my best to not stare at the dead bodies. More Pearls came by, showing off their keys and waltzing into the labyrinth. This time, none tried to sneak through when the gate opened.

Clark surveyed the expanse of the walls.

“You’re right. Let’s try exploring. To the west is sharp cliffs. I’d wager our entrance lies the other way.”

We took off, our feet making hardly a sound as we raced toward the east. The labyrinth seemed to watch us as we went, the leaves turned when we passed and trees inside rustling like laughter. This was fun for it. We were nothing but rowboats and it was the mighty ocean, playing with us as we pretended to be in control.

The labyrinth cut inward sharply, the island rushing to the sea on one side and the hedges racing inward on the other. We took the turn, spilling into a round clearing. The labyrinth walls formed a half circle with the far edge meeting the edge of the island, breaking into cliffs that fell toward the sea. The other way was where we’d come.

“This must be it,”

Clark said, walking to the center of the circle.

I joined him.

“But where?”

As far as we could see, there were no doors. Just a labyrinth that stretched almost to the clouds. It looked so perfect though, so immaculately kept, that it was hard to image it as anything other than the entrance. And it was so still. The world held its breath for what would come.

A few other competitors found us. Their steps slowed as well, taking it all in.

The ground had changed from rocks to stone pavers. They formed the symbol of a star underfoot. The stars had led us here. I followed the point that faced the labyrinth to reach the wall, and put my hand against the hedge.

As far as I could tell, it was an impregnable wall. Not a door, not an entrance, not a clue. Just a wall.

But not a hedge, as I’d originally guessed. Stone. Beneath the brambles lay ancient weathered stone blocks, their surface rough to the touch with deep grooves and jagged lines. Moss clung to the crevices, and thin veins of ivy snake upward, their tendrils grasping for moonlight.

If it was a hedge, we could cut through. But there’d be no forcing our way through rock.

Clark took his time walking the area, searching everything. Other kids tried climbing or shoving their way through before finding the stone as I had.

We all kept side eyes on each other. Once one found the door, the rest would follow.

“It’s too dark to see anything,”

Clark whispered when our paths crossed next.

“Let’s find a safe place to sleep, then come back in the morning.”

My insides twisted.

“I’d feel safer sleeping if we were already inside.”

More competitors arrived now, each seeming excited to see the area. This had to be it. Everything else was unruly and wild, but this one area looked clean in an intentional sort of way.

I went back to the star in the center. It must mean something. I dropped to my knees to study the stone better. A faded yellow color, though I saw nothing else yellow around us. A streak of orange running through the center. Still, no other orange in the clearing. Seven points. Perhaps that meant something? I pried my fingers into the markings, pulling against the pavers until my fingertips bled.

At some point, Clark had knelt beside me.

“Does the star have a name?”

I looked at him. “A name?”

“You’ve said some stars have names. Does this one?”

It took a moment to stop looking for cracks in the picture and simply see the star, but when I did, shame washed over me. I’ve studied stars since I was little. Father navigated by them, so I wanted to know how to do the same when he revealed me as his heir. I ought to have recognized this star instantly.

“Polanova,”

I replied.

“Guardian of the east. She watches over the desperate souls.”

“Desperate sounds like us.”

Clark leaned back on his knees to glance around.

“We can’t go further east. The labyrinth edge runs off the cliff.”

I rose, feeling hopeful at last. “Perhaps.”

As casually as I could muster so as not to alert the other competitors, I meandered toward the east edge of the circle, where the side of the Quarter Labyrinth ended and the cliff dropped into the sea.

The hedges left no room to wiggle past. They clung to the cliffside so thoroughly, that the only possible way past would be to fall.

“There’s nothing.”

I stepped away from the side.

“Just a deadly drop.”

Clark’s bony fingers found purchase on the gnarled vines of the labyrinth as he leaned his weight over the side to look. I grabbed hold of his jacket.

He glanced back.

“If I fall, that’s not going to stop me.”

“I’m not trying to save you. This is a very nice jacket.”

Clark grinned, then leaned his weight further. I held on with both hands.

His voice caught on the wind to drift back to me.

“There’s something up there.”

He brought his weight back.

“A stone handle. I think it’s a ladder.”

I looked where he pointed. Sure enough, a slim handlebar jutted out of the labyrinth’s side. Now noted, I was able to make out other handles leading up the labyrinth’s edge.

“We have to climb it. That’s how we get in,”

I realized.

In time, we both peeked down. It’d be a fatal fall from here. But if we climbed halfway up the labyrinth first? There wouldn’t be much left to bury after that.

Clark undid the top buttons of his brown jacket, and tugged at the collar of his white shirt underneath.

“Let’s be on our way then.”

He spoke like a man who was hating every minute of this, but who wouldn’t stop until he’d seen it through.

He shouldn’t risk himself for me. We didn’t know if these handles could hold our weight.

“I should go first. If I fall, you’ll know not to follow.”

But Clark was already grabbing hold, and threw himself over the edge.

I sent out a prayer to all the stars, tied my bag around my waist, then followed.