Page 16

Seek your solace in the sky.

The voice might as well have begged everyone to look up and see the shining light in the east, guiding us to victory. But I still had one thing they did not. Others sought the center for the chance to captain ships.

I sought the vision my father had for me.

My determination could outlast everyone else’s, if only I moved quickly enough.

The rain picked up when the clock tower stopped chiming. We’d long ago abandoned hope of being dry. But it made the ground harder to walk on and masked the sound of others who might be around.

Clark and I kept close to one another as we navigated the maze. Left here. Right there. Around the bend, over the bridge. Hedges everywhere we looked, and each appeared just as all those before them.

Had we gone this way already? If we go that way, it sends us west, not east. Are those voices we hear?

We moved slowly sometimes, when we heard competitors nearby. Other times we ran. All the while, the rain poured.

As the sun began to rise, we paused at an intersection. The way ahead split into three identical corridors. A faint breeze whispered from the eastern one, carrying a trace of something sweet, almost floral. A moment’s hesitation, then a step forward—east. The walls seemed to close in, the air turning thick with the scent of turned soil.

Somewhere far off, a faint chime echoed, the sound bouncing eerily through the maze. It was followed by a girl’s shouts. We quickened our pace, the path narrowing further, the temperature growing colder. A creeping sense of being watched prickled at the hairs of my neck, but turning back was no longer an option. Voices drifted from that way.

Around the next corner, the moonlight pooled unexpectedly, and the rain halted.

I tilted back my head. A shining glass dome rose above us, keeping us safe from the rain. It sat atop the hedges, forming a small, circular clearing. At its center stood a marble fountain, its water eerily still. We approached cautiously, the sound of their breathing louder now, mingling with the faint, persistent rustle of unseen movement within the maze.

Clark approached the fountain slowly, before kneeling in the mud to dip his hands in.

“It’s fresh water, by the looks of it.”

“Or poison.”

“I don’t think so. Something about it feels safe.”

I knelt beside him to dip my hands in the clear water. My mouth watered at the sight of it. It’d been too long since we had a drink. Could this be a gift, or a test?

If it brought harm, it wouldn’t be to Clark. I scooped the water in my palm and lifted to my lips.

“Wait—”

Clark started, but I’d already drank.

Cool water slipped down my throat. A soothing chill spread to my entire body. Everything in me ached to drink again, but I waited to see what would befall me.

Clark set his jaw.

“That was reckless.”

“The best things are,”

I said back, hoping I wouldn’t regret my words in a moment.

A minute went by slowly, and my confidence seeped back in.

“I think I’m fine.”

I took another drink before Clark could say anything. It tasted just as fresh.

I slurped now, taking as much into my hands as possible to tip it down my throat. It’d been a day since my last drink, and I could down this entire fountain before being satisfied.

Clark knelt beside me, taking in the water nervously at first before matching my gusto.

It was a while before either of us came up for air.

“So,”

Clark said as he wiped his mouth dry. He sat back on his knees to allow his gaze to flicker toward my arm.

“When were you going to tell me about that? Because I know it’s not a sailor tattoo from the Silver Wings.”

I looked down to where part of my heart tattoo peeked out from my sleeve. With a sigh, I rolled the fabric back for him to see.

“I would have told you when I understood it, I suppose.”

Clark peered close as if it were an assignment in school. He’d always done better in school than I had. Perhaps he could figure this out.

“I thought I heard something yesterday,”

he said as he leaned close to my skin.

“Did Aurelia gift this to you?”

Gift was not the word I’d use. “Aurelia?”

He glanced up.

“The Stone God? Her name is Aurelia Brightspire.”

I blinked at him. Of course he got her name.

“Yes, though she neglected to tell me why. I got the sense that it was for her enjoyment, likely just to watch me be confused the entire time.”

“I don’t think so. In the stories, nothing Aurelia Brightspire did was ever without purpose.”

He must have seen the dumb look on my face, for he grinned.

“How well do you know the Stone Gods?”

“Not as well as you apparently. I always thought they were myth.”

“They are. They were the Children of the Labyrinth once, then turned to myth as time went by, now morphed into gods. Whatever their name, they are all connected to the labyrinth, for it began as their playground.”

My frown only deepened.

He laughed.

“You really know nothing about the labyrinth, do you?”

“I didn’t think you knew anything either. Where did you learn this?”

“School. While you were ditching class with the other Seaweeds to jump cliffs, I was studying.”

Clark said it so casually, but I heard the twinge of pain there.

Clark hadn’t fit in with the other Pearls, but he wasn’t a Seaweed, so he didn’t quite fit in with us either.

He teetered between the two groups, always uncertain which way he’d fall.

While I at least had some playmates when I was younger, he didn’t have anyone until we grew close.

It’d been a great source of entertainment for me, watching him flit from group to group as if he were a leaf caught in the wrong wind.

Until I realized he was a kid searching for his place in the islands, and I recognized myself in him.

A friendship took hold between us, and its roots ran deep.

“In school, we were supposed to do book reports.

I know you hardly did them, but I found old catalogues of the Stone Gods, still called Children of the Labyrinth at the time of the writings.

Aurelia Brightspire is one of the oldest ones, who wandered into the forest as a girl searching for a piece of magic to save her crumbling family.

When it didn’t work, she entered the forest again, searching for a way to turn back time to a place where her family was whole.

When that didn’t work, she entered the labyrinth a third time.

Whatever she sought, no one knows, but she never left the labyrinth.

Story goes, that with each Quarter Labyrinth, she latches on to a competitor with a story for the ages, and is filled with hope that she can do something to fix them.

We are lucky she didn’t choose us.

Aurelia’s touch is cursed, her yearning too sharp—her meddling leaves scars.

Her chosen person leaves more broken than before.”

I lifted my arm, where the red, gold, and brown tattoo pulsed.

“Did she choose me?”

“No. Her mark is a pink orchid. Whatever this is, it wasn’t in the books, though I’ll search the book I purchased at the market for a clue.”

Clark and his books. Though if he found something about this tattoo in that large tome of his, I’d owe him an apology.

I stared at the fountain a while longer, thinking of the girl who I’d met before, who’d been wandering the labyrinth for who knew how long. And she wasn’t alone.

“What of the other Stone Gods?”

“There are ten total, and it’s best if we don’t encounter any more. Most entered the labyrinth in a tragic way, and they interfere with the games too much. If we see one of their temples, we steer clear.”

I’d never heard Clark so demanding before. He usually spoke in soft, uncertain terms, as if he never knew if he were allowed to be uttering words at all. But this time, he spoke like his voice laid the law.

Clark waited for me to agree.

He was so serious, I couldn’t poke fun at him. I nodded instead.

“Okay. I won’t interact with the Stone Gods.”

At that, Clark rolled up his sleeves past his elbows and swept his eyes over the expanse of the labyrinth.

“Let’s keep moving, but keep any eye out for food. Who knows when ours will be delivered.”

Hours drifted by as we wandered through the hedges. The sun rose behind the clouds, then it set again. The star came out to guide us onward.

Food was delivered that night—magically appearing before our noses with scents that made my mouth water. A large turkey leg sat before us, with a small jug of water each. We devoured them both, then took shifts sleeping for a few hours while the other kept watch.

The next day was more of the same. Wandering through the maze, staying away from other competitors when we heard them coming, and taking turns keeping watch at night. Clark had the idea to keep the jugs our water was delivered in, and set them up at night to collect rain water. It wasn’t more than a few drinks, but after a day of no water, I appreciated whatever I could get.

It took two days for us to leave the hedge maze, and two days to see another soul.

We’d come out on the north side, climbed down a ladder, and rushed into a forest of maple trees and uneven terrain. A girl, no more than fifteen, sat with her back against the tree and a collection of roots in her palm that she gnawed on.

Her head sprang up as we stepped in the forest, and her body went limp.

Our eyes connected. Something in hers pained me. She was so young. And from the looks of it, alone. Her clothes were richly made with fine fabrics that Seaweeds couldn’t afford. She came from money, and it made me wonder if she’d gone into the labyrinth to prove something, or at someone else’s beckoning.

Whatever it was, the labyrinth hadn’t been kind to her. She had cuts along her face, bruises up her legs, and a whimper in her throat.

Before we could tell her we would bring no harm, she dropped her roots, grabbed her dagger, and scurried away.

“There’s a manor up ahead,”

Clark said when the girl’s small frame had vanished.

“Let’s find shelter from this rain, then scavenge for food.”

“We should keep going. If that small girl had gotten ahead of us, others will be much further.”

Like Bjorn. Askel. Or Leif.

“If we keep going without rest, we will be easily killed the next time someone attacks.”

Again, he spoke with new authority that wasn’t there before as if the labyrinth were siphoning courage into him.

“Fine. We can rest for a few hours.”

We pulled our weary bodies toward the manor. The structure sprawled across the forest in shades varying from dark stone to pine trim. Tall, arched windows with wrought iron frames stretched toward a steep, gabled roof topped with chimneys.

“Here’s to hoping no one is inside,”

I said, and I pushed open the door.