Page 19

We made it a few more miles before camping. It was only when the others sat to rest that I was able to pull Clark aside.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

He held up his hands.

“I knew you’d be upset. Listen. They are all Seaweeds like us, and most of them have already lost a companion in the labyrinth. Let’s stick with them for a while, then break off when we get close.”

He said it as if they didn’t all have the same plan. They’d be using us just as much as we used them. At some point, everyone would split. Knives would come out. I didn’t want to play pretend at friends when it would only lead to bloodshed.

We couldn’t all win. And as Seaweeds, we didn’t have much to return to. Better to give everything up in the labyrinth and lose your life than go back home.

“One season,”

I told him.

“We stick through the rest of this nasty spring, and through summer. The first night of autumn, we leave.”

“Fine.”

I looked over his shoulder at the group of them. All thin boned, young, and restless folk. The exact thing you’d expect a Seaweed to be. They varied in age from the girl with straw-like hair who wasn’t yet ten, to the boy with matching hair and thin smile who nearing nineteen. Those were brother and sister, while the rest had been picked up along the way like stray kittens.

“Tell me what you know so far.”

“The oldest is named Harald. He and his sister are indentured servants who work aboard hired ships. Their master told them if they win, he’ll set them free.”

“Let me guess, and he takes the Silver Wings for himself.”

Clark nodded.

“But I don’t think Harald will do it. I could be wrong, but I don’t think he plans to win. I think he’s searching for a stone god who can grant him and Tove freedom.”

I examined the brother and sister. Harald had his arm over Tove’s shoulder, while the tiny girl curled into his side to snack on a few berries. She had an iron will to her. Never complained once as we jogged two miles inward. Didn’t complain now when all she got were a few berries to fill her belly.

When her gaze lifted to Harald, it was filled with warmth.

“The other six are harder to read. The only one who likes to do much talking is Gunnar, who found me. He could have killed me, but he didn’t. He brought me to Harald instead, and they offered their allegiance. The bigger the pack we are, the less likely we are to get attacked.”

Gunnar had a point. We were ten strong now, and that would give pause to the strongest of fighters.

Which was good, because we had no chance of moving without the entire labyrinth hearing us at this point.

“Gunnar is native to this island, which is how he got in at all. This is all a game to him. He doesn’t have high hopes of winning.”

I knew which one Gunnar was. Dark skin, bright smile, and the only one in the group who had high spirits. It wasn’t surprising to hear he’d gotten into the labyrinth simply because it landed on his home. He didn’t have the same competitive energy the others ensued.

He’d been singing earlier.

“Aiden, Barrett, and Charlotte…at least, I think that’s their names. The ones with pale complexions. They came as a group of five. Two are dead. Then there’s Ivar with the black hair. He convinced his little brother to come, and his brother died. I worry about him the most. He’s going to need to win to feel like this was worth it. Last is Astrid with the copper hair. Hers is the opposite story. Her older brother dragged her in with him, promising a grand adventure, but she watched him die instead. She seems rudderless. I’ve no worries about her.”

I did my best to follow, but my eye kept going to the one called Aiden. Something about how he shifted with restless energy made me wary.

“I’ll bet you five coppers that when the peace breaks, Aiden is the one to break it.”

Clark didn’t disagree.

“I’ve been watching him too. We’ll keep an eye on them, and perhaps we leave before autumn comes.”

Satisfied with that, I almost moved back to the group before remembering something.

“What’s our story?”

Clark’s smile turned sheepish.

My stomach dropped.

“You didn’t.”

“I was put on the spot and had to come up with something quickly.”

“So you said we were lovers?”

Clark backed up a pace.

“I’m not good at lying!”

“That is a lie,” I hissed.

“I mean coming up with ones. Geez, Ren. You’d think the idea made you sick. It’s a good cover. We are lovers who come from nothing and hope to gain a secure future for ourselves by winning the labyrinth. Nothing too dramatic, nothing frightening for other competitors.”

I calmed my breath when I noticed a few of the others watching our lover’s quarrel. Being mad at Clark was futile, anyway. Not when he was so pure. So good. Even this lie had been nothing but the innocent wishing of a love-struck boy.

And I had to go stomping over him every time.

“I’m sorry,”

I whispered.

“Sorry that you got mad or that the idea makes you sick?”

I paused to sort through my words to find the ones that held the least thorns.

“It doesn’t make me sick. I simply don’t want to raise hope where there is none.”

He nodded.

“Say that all you want. But three truths.”

He held up his fingers.

“One, we protect each other when no one else does. Two, when you laugh, your eyes search for mine. And three, when I lean close—”

I hadn’t realized how close he already was. He whispered the last words.

“You don’t pull away.”

Before I could answer, he retreated.

“I don’t need to change your mind. I just need to show you that your mind is already made up, and it picked me.”

With that, he shoved his hands into his pockets and rejoined the group.

I stitched myself together before following him.

Lady Luck once had a name—and quite a long one. That name is now forgotten. When first she bested the labyrinth, the islands stopped using her name and called her fortunate. Her second triumph birthed whispers of lies.

“She cheats!”

they muttered with jealous cries. By the third, at twenty- nine years old.

“Lady Luck,”

they proclaimed, her story retold.

None would enter the labyrinth without asking Lady Luck for her favors. But Lady Lucky had no favors to give. She had her sights set on the end again. For a fourth time, Lady Luck entered the labyrinth. Now at the age of thirty-three, with years well worn, Lady Luck learned her victories could not last forever.

“One more victory,”

the king of the labyrinth decreed.

“And no more shall you quench this need.”

So when she claimed her final crown, Lady Luck made her plea.

“Let me stay in the maze I adore, to guide the lost through every door.”

The king sighed and granted her vow,

Then vanished with Lady Luck, who abides there now.

It is customary for Lady Luck to select two competitors—one bold and strong and one an underdog. She whispers hints, a nudge, a clue, and when they triumph, she triumphs too. For Lady Luck, clever and keen, has won thirty-one times unseen

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