Page 15

I tried to picture what the Stone God could have offered Clark that he cared about. His family never wanted him, he had no friends but me, and no ambitions for his future. What options could she have enticed him with?

Clark didn’t speak again before his breathing turned rhythmic.

Now somewhat alone, I could inspect my tattoo better before the night turned too dark to see anything. I rolled up my sleeve to stare at the design.

It was beautiful in a tragic sort of way. The heart pulsed consistently, the coloring coming to life before settling down again. But something about the heart looked sad, like it took all its energy to muster up the strength for each beat. As if it were one teardrop away from breaking.

Guard your heart, she had said. If damage came to the tattoo, would it hurt my real heart? I pressed a thumb to it, but felt nothing inside my body.

I dropped my hand and sighed.

There’d never be quiet again. For the rest of my life, I’d have this constant pound coming from my arm.

I turned my focus to the slip between the rocks, watching the rain fall outside. Occasionally someone shouted, or something clattered in the distance. The labyrinth didn’t sleep. It was as alive as the tattoo on my forearm, breathing magic into the rain-soaked air.

We were tired from days of travel. After tonight, I didn’t care to sleep more than a few hours at a time.

Rest could come after we’d won.

Something glittered in the sky. I shifted to see it better. A star, bright and glowing, watched over us. It shone enough to pierce through the clouds.

My father mapped his course based on the stars, and as such, I’d studied them relentlessly. I knew the constellations as well as I knew the back of my hand. Which ones came out at which times of the year. Which ones were good omens and which ones were bad signs.

This star was new.

I made sure my axe was clipped to my back and that Clark slept soundly, before slithering out of our cave to see the star better.

Stars had guided us here. It made sense that Callahan wanted someone familiar with the stars to be the new captain of the mightiest trade vessels in the Hundred Islands.

I kept close to the ruins scattered through the rocky hills as I climbed higher toward the skies. The star flickered as if happy to see me. A few other stars peeked through breaks in the clouds, but none like this one. None so intentional.

Voices chattered from behind a crumbled stone wall, and I dropped to my knees to curl myself into the rocks. I barely saw the tops of their heads before they were gone again.

I glanced back up. I ought to return to the cave to keep guard over Clark. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that the star meant something.

When the night fell quiet once more, I continued forward.

I moved slowly, stopping often to listen for other competitors. I heard them once in a while, most at a distance, but saw no one. Higher and higher I climbed. Small rocks tumbled underfoot to roll down the hill while I moved at a pace so slow, it might take me all night to climb. Better slow than spotted and killed.

A turret sat atop the hill, polished stone and windows intact. The beauty of it stood incongruous amongst the broken mess of the rest of the landscape. A flowery vine climbed up its side until it reached the shingled roof.

At the top, an open window stared toward the star.

If I crossed to it, I’d be atop the hill for thirty seconds with nothing to shield me. But if I could make that, I’d be at one of the highest vantage points to see both the star and the rest of the labyrinth from.

If we hadn’t spent all day climbing endless stairs, I might not risk it. But we were lost, and only one day in. We needed any help we could get.

I mustered up my courage, and sprinted the distance.

It seemed to take ages to reach the tower. For those moments, I was completely exposed to any nearby to see—and to pursue. I half expected an arrow to fly through the night and strike me down. My feet pounded against stone, while my heartbeat thumped in my chest. At last, I reached the tower and flattened myself against its side while searching for the door. I found it a moment later, a narrow wooden latch that let me inside.

When I shut the door behind me, I breathed deeply.

My tattoo was the only noise in the tower.

Oddly, it beat smoothly, not matching the fast-beat of my own. I’d expected the pulse to hasten when my own heartbeat did.

Pushing thoughts of my tattoo away, I inspected the tower. It wasn’t more than the top half of a turret, with only the stairway remaining. Polished stone gleamed as if someone lived here, oil lamps flickered though I saw no oil to light them, and mist hid in the shadows like ghosts sent to spy. I passed them to climb the wooden stairs, each one silent as if they guarded a secret, until finding a room at the top. Small, round, and empty.

Beat. Beat. Beat.

“Be quiet,”

I muttered.

A soft breeze came in through the window, where raindrops had soaked the stone. I crossed to it as close as I dared, just close enough to see the star.

Once there, it wasn’t the star that caught my attention. It was everything else.

Swirling lines from hedge mazes that extended forever. Temples from Stone Gods lit with fire. Hills and mountains, with ropes strung between them for those brave enough to try. Manors of all sizes—some built, some crumbled—dotting the labyrinth.

We came in at the top level from the deadly ladder, but we hadn’t dropped as far down as we thought. The real labyrinth lay down another level yet. From here, I could see most everything, and it pleased me to find that we’d gone further than I thought.

A sea sparkled by the moonlight in the middle of it all. Above that sea, the star shone.

The sea is the center.

Once I thought it, I knew it to be true. I could only see the distant shores of it, but everything else faced toward that sea. If I wanted to captain the Silver Wings, I must reach those waters first.

So drunk with the thrill of uncovering that, I didn’t hear the voices until they were right behind me.

In a moment, they’d opened the door. Three men strode in, their faces speckled from days of not shaving and their clothes wrinkled and stained with dirt. The tallest had brown eyes and a curved blade, the next had a shirt as red as blood and two long daggers, and the third had a bony frame with a bow strung over his shoulder. Each of his arrows looked sharp enough to stick in a rock.

My gaze snagged back on the second’s shirt. Was that actually blood?

From the way he smiled, he saw my thoughts.

“What do we have here?”

Blood Shirt asked. He led the group in, but hadn’t the decency to leave room for me to leave.

I ducked my head.

“Just resting. I’ll be on my way.”

Bow and Arrows blocked the door.

“Where are you from?”

The way he asked it sounded like a test.

“I’m a Seaweed from Haven.”

“That’s a pretty axe for a weed.”

I resisted the urge to unclip it from my back.

“This axe is all I have.”

Plus the dagger at my side, as his eyes noted. Plus the mist vial that would turn my enemy to stone for a short while. I could only use it twice, but would it work on three people at once? The merchant hadn’t clarified.

I really didn’t want to use it so soon. But I made note of the weight of my pack in case I had to reach for it quickly.

“Just kill her and be done with it,”

Tall One said as if my death were nothing more than unpleasant business to be dealt with, then he wouldn’t give it another thought.

My heartbeat ratcheted.

Not the one on my forearm though. That one remained as steady as ever as if it slept.

“I’m not going to win. The fortune teller at the gate told me so. I’m just here to collect a bit of magic to sell back home.”

I spoke quickly. If needed, I could swing my axe. But I was just as likely to end up with one of their daggers in my gut before unclipping my weapon.

So stupid of me to trap myself in this tower.

“I’ve never killed a Seaweed before,”

Blood Shirt said. From the excitement in his tone, the idea thrilled him. Now I highly suspected that was real blood on his clothes. Not from a Seaweed at least.

“I’m not alone,”

I warned them.

“You don’t want to mess with my companions.”

Bow and Arrow glanced down the stairs behind him.

“We’ll deal with them later.”

He reached behind him for his arrow.

“I know Gerald Montclair!”

My words were a chaotic jumble, dripping from my lips with desperation they were sure to smell.

“I’ve talked with him many times, and he taught me about the Silver Wings. If you want to captain it, you’ll need a tattoo like this.”

I jerked my sleeve up and held out my arm.

The sight of the pulsing tattoo stilled them. Bow and Arrow let his hand fall to his side as he peered closer.

“What is it?”

“The heart of the ships. Every sailor aboard has them. It marks them as part of the crew. If you want to captain, you’ll need a tattoo first.”

Blood Shirt eyed it.

“Why is it…moving?”

“Because it came from the seas and the seas are alive.”

I was lying through my teeth, hoping they didn’t realize as my other hand reached for the gap in my bag. I was about to find out how many the mist could freeze at once.

Tall One spotted my hand, and he snarled.

“Just kill her.”

I’d be dead, if Clark hadn’t appeared behind Bow and Arrow with a blade in his hand.

“Let the girl go, and we let you live.”

Let you live. As if either of us knew how to fight.

But something about Clark’s gaze was deadly enough that it gave pause to the room. Silence followed, laden with tension. Clark looked at me briefly, and that was all it took for Bow and Arrow to turn as Blood Shirt threw a blade. It whizzed by Clark’s head, missing, but close enough to cut. A small slice of skin opened along Clark’s cheekbone.

I saw red.

They cut him.

Forget turning them to stone. I reached for my axe as the room exploded into action.

Blood Shirt needed time to get his second dagger. I struck the blunt end of my axe against his temple first, feeling his bone collide with the handle. He staggered back, eyes rolling back before correcting himself.

Tall One stepped into the place he left, and he was quicker on the draw. I had to roll to avoid the swing of his sword.

Sword, axe, daggers, bow and arrow. We were kids playing with an arsenal of weapons that none of us had any business holding, and none of the weapons paired easily with each other.

There were no rules in the labyrinth.

I swung my axe again, blade first this time. Tall One sliced upward with his sword to meet mine, just as Blood Shirt drew his second dagger. I broke away to place Tall One between us, forcing Blood Shirt to step closer, his body nearing the window. Tall One swung again. This time it was me meeting him in the middle. Steel clanged as our weapons collided.

I had to dig my heel into the ground to keep upright. If I won this, it wouldn’t be with strength.

Blood Shirt closed the distance to swipe with his blade. I ducked, twisted my axe, and rolled as Tall One’s axe came down. Cool stone pressed against my warm skin.

At my side, Clark and Bow and Arrow had abandoned all weapons to wrestle. Clark’s dagger had been thrown against the wall, and he stood too close for the other guy to nock an arrow, so they abandoned all weapons to wrestle. They threw punches, and from a glance, I couldn’t tell who was winning.

Then Blood Shirt eyed them, and fear coursed through me. I slammed the length of my axe against Tall One to push him back, drew my dagger from my waist, and drove it into Blood Shirt’s side.

At the sight of red, Tall One paled. I thought he wasn’t a killer.

I thought I wasn’t a killer.

Blood Shirt wasn’t dead yet. He likely wouldn’t be from the wound. But the terrified yelp he gave distracted Bow and Arrow long enough that Clark’s next punch landed squarely in the cheek, and his head smacked against the hard ground.

He wasn’t dead either. But he certainly didn’t rise.

Now Tall One was practically white.

Clark stood, shaking his fist, and eyed Tall One. I lifted my bloody blade.

Tall One’s brown eyes narrowed.

“Seems you Seaweeds are going to live this day.”

“Truce?”

Clark suggested.

Tall One nodded. He eased himself closer to where Blood Shirt knelt on the ground, inspecting his wound.

I moved as if putting away my blade, but my eye never left Tall One. That was the only reason I saw as his own hand reached for Blood Shirt’s fallen blade just as Clark retrieved his. He flicked his wrist back.

His aim was for Clark.

Before he could let go, I threw my own.

It struck his chest. He fell, body smacking the ground, and his eyes went wide before losing their light.

My heart tattoo beat happily on, never once speeding up. Meanwhile, I thought I might vomit.

“Ren…”

Clark breathed.

Whatever he might have said got cut off by Blood Shirt’s ear-shattering cry when he saw his lifeless friend on the ground, his blood already coating the floor. The metallic smell was sweeter than I’d imagined it being.

And killing was worse than I’d imagined. It gutted me, completely stripped bare of all emotion, and filled me with a horrid sense of emptiness that I hadn’t the time to dwell upon.

We still weren’t safe.

With one exchanged look, Clark read my expression, and we both sprinted for the door. We barreled downward, out the door, and across sharp rocks.

“This way,”

I shouted, pointing in the direction of the sea I’d seen earlier. Clark followed with no question. We hurried off the rocks until we came to a hedge maze.

At the first break in the wall, we dove in.

Half an hour later, and after endless turns, we finally slowed.

“One was wounded, and the other unconscious. They won’t have the energy to chase us for a while,”

Clark said as he caught his breath.

“We should find a place to hide so you can get some sleep.”

I swallowed the pit in my throat.

“I don’t think I’ll sleep for a while.”

One moment I was cold, the next Clark had wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. His hand came to nestle the back of my head, and his face dropped into my shoulder.

“If you hadn’t killed him, he would have killed us.”

He would have killed Clark. That was why I’d done it.

And that was why I couldn’t find it in me to shed a tear.

But it didn’t mean my body didn’t shake with the memory of his eyes going dark or his body hitting the ground at such an angle. The way he crumpled in on himself like I’d taken the bones from inside his skin. How his friend had screamed.

I pulled away from Clark to fill my lungs with air.

“I’ll forget about it if we keep going.”

He looked at me as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it.

“Okay. Which way?”

We were in a hedge maze, and I already felt too lost to remember which way we’d come. I lifted my chin to see the sky.

“There’s a star in the east that will guide us.”

Clark looked up. Not even he, who was unused to the ways of the stars, could miss the sign in the sky. And if he could see it, others would too. They’d soon follow.

With a direction in sight, we headed whichever path led east, just to pause as the sound of a clocktower cleaved the night.

A voice rang out as clear as if it were in the labyrinth with us.

“Midnight falls, and a new dawn stirs. The gates now lock, the maze demurs. Sealed for the wanderers who strayed onto paths where shadows danced and played. When nights grow dark and blood paints the day, you’re free to turn and walk away. Cast your white stone to the heavens high, and seek your solace in the sky.

“Good luck. May you find yourself in the labyrinth.”