Page 33

I managed a few hours of sleep before Clark nudged me. Harald sat beside him, the glow of early morning light behind him, as he cast worrisome looks at the group. Everyone else still slept, but Harald was wide-eyed and tense-bodied.

“We need to move,”

Harald whispered to me and Clark.

“I’ve been to Delilah, and she warned me that Leif Balgoran is on the move.”

“Leif is always on the move,”

Clark muttered, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His red hair stuck up at all angles.

“What’s that got to do with us?”

Harald’s copper eyes slid to me.

“Delilah said he’s hunting Ren.”

All sleep fled as Clark’s razor-sharp glance sliced toward me. My teeth grated together. I shifted to Harald.

“Why did you seek Delilah?”

“Why does Leif seek you?”

Clark asked instead.

Harald elected not to answer my question, instead waiting for me to respond to Clark. With a sigh, I began clipping my axe and sword in their places and lacing my boots tighter.

“We’ve run into each other a few times in the labyrinth, and haven’t got along the best. I might’ve turned him to stone once.”

“To stone?”

Harald’s jaw dropped.

Clark’s mouth remained frustratingly pinched together.

“Temporarily, unfortunately. It was necessary, but I can understand why Leif didn’t care for it.”

Harald barked a laugh.

“I would think not. His brother died by being turned to stone permanently.”

My hands froze over the laces of my boots. The statue of Luke by the manor. It wasn’t a statue. It was Luke. Now I understood the tear Leif had shed at its base.

Then I’d turned him to stone. He must have been terrified.

“See, I didn’t know that.”

I stood, fully armed and ready to run at the first sight of Leif’s dark hair.

“I’ll be on my guard, I promise.”

Harald looked like he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself.

“We’ll all watch our backs.”

He went to wake the others before I could ask more about his time with Delilah, or if she’d said anything about me. Clark stayed at my side, a hundred words flashing through his expressions but none finding his lips.

“Leif won’t be a problem,”

I whispered now that others were waking. I didn’t want them to think I had a huge target on my back and wasn’t worth the effort of keeping alive.

“Why does he track you in the first place?”

Clark pressed. His eyes searched mine, the ones that always held warmth. Right now they were cold.

I made sure no one could hear, before whispering.

“I’ll tell you everything later. I promise.”

He nodded once, short and chilly.

That wasn’t the only frigid thing. With my promise, the air pitched cold, a chill seeping to our bones. Leaves shook, shriveling upon themselves, and colors steeped toward gold, orange, and crimson that spread like fire through the trees. The cursed humidity dropped. Clouds shifted over the sun. A groan came from the labyrinth that shook the rest of the group awake, each of us looking between the others.

Summer was over. Autumn had begun.

I stared up at Clark.

“This is it. We were meant to leave the group in autumn.”

His jaw flexed, fingers tightening over his pommel. It wasn’t a fantastic time to leave the safety of the group now that Leif hunted me, and somewhere along the way, the group had become more than a safety net. It became allies. Friends. People I wanted to keep safe.

“It’s up to you,”

Clark said, but I knew his answer.

It matched mine.

“Let’s stay.”

A ghost of a smile twitched on his face before falling as swiftly as the colors had fallen from the trees around us. He’d turned icy along with the weather, and I didn’t know how to bring his warmth back.

“Tonight, I want an explanation,” he said.

I couldn’t deny him that.

We walked with the group as the sun climbed higher in the cloud-laden sky. Each shadow, each crinkled leaf, each howl of a wolf, I expected an attack. But midday came with no incident.

Until Harald put up a hand for us all to stop. Nothing moved, save for the ripple of his yellowed shirt in the breeze and the muscles beneath my skin, readying themselves for a fight. Harald flattened his body against the ground, studying something unseen, before rising with a sigh.

“Tripwire. Lots of them.”

Our groans were his response. We had gotten ourselves lost in a maze of stone with dead grass at our feet and thin slabs of gray rock at our sides, twisting us in circles we could only hope led east. In turn, we all lowered to see the wires.

They strung from rock to rock, blocking our path. Thin, white, and tricky to see, like strands of spider’s silk bent on ensnaring us.

Gunnar had his hands planted on his narrow hips, turning up his nose at the series of wires.

“What happens if we trip one?”

“Whatever happens, we are sure to hate it,”

Harald said with a frown.

“Easy to step over, just makes this a slow trip.”

He stood with one foot on either side of the tripwire and one by one ushered us by carefully.

Clark found the next wire seven paces ahead. Again, we filed into a line to step over it, cautious not to touch the one behind as we did so.

I eyed the circular slots in the wall, guessing which weapon would fly our way should the wires be tripped. With luck, we’d never find out.

Clark stood guard of the last tripwire while Harald checked for the next.

And on.

And on.

And on.

It moved infuriatingly slow. At least the labyrinth showed its pretty side today. The stone walls were as if ripped from ancient history, something that’d stood for thousands of years and would stand for a thousand more. Ivy and moss draped across them, sitting on the backdrop of a scarlet sky.

Astrid stumbled once, her boot catching on the uneven stone. She froze mid-step. A wire was just inches from Astrid’s knee, taut and trembling. Harald grabbed her arm and steadied her before she could fall.

“Focus,”

he hissed.

“One mistake, and we're—”

Stones moved, like a giant machine awakening. Harald shifted to find a wayward wire had been strung at head level, and he’d walked right into it.

Clark noted it first, and with a shout, ordered us to drop. We all plummeted, chests slamming into the hard ground, praying whatever came would strike above.

In his surprise, Harald moved last. And not quickly enough. A bolt came at a sickening speed to slice through his arm.

He roared in pain.

Tove trembled beside me, but faithfully stayed put until we were sure no further bolts would follow. Then she scampered to her brother’s side.

The bolt tore through the sleeve of his shirt and brought a good deal of blood out with it. It stuck through the edge of his arm, far enough away that it didn’t hit bone but his muscle would be torn. He spoke through his teeth.

“You have to push it all the way through.”

My stomach hollowed. But Tove nodded once, grabbed tight, and yanked.

Harald roared again as she pushed the bolt all the way through to come out the other side.

She dropped the bolt and went right into inspecting the wound, but Harald batted her away.

“We will check it tonight. I’m eager to get out of this section.”

Harald drew in a deep breath, and it looked very much like he was drawing courage with it. Then he nodded.

“Continue on.”

“Oh, and watch out for that wire there,”

Gunnar said, pointing to the one Harald had just ran into.

Harald offered him a pained laugh as he ducked under the wire.

We moved doubly slow after that. Our eyes were now trained for wires at any height, the air filled with nothing but the sound of Harald and Clark leading us through.

“Step over here, watch your head, go slowly there.”

Only when we made it through did the tension in everyone’s shoulders relax. The stones took on an even older look, fissured through to their cores, but the wires were gone. Ruins scattered the hillside, and another level blocked the sun from us. We moved in the scant light as quickly as we dared.

“See, that’s what I expected from the labyrinth,”

Gunnar said when we were well away from the wires.

“Those were the stories I’d been told of it. Traps, tricks, obstacle courses.”

“I’d take tripwires over leaping from stone to stone a mile in the sky,” I said.

“You weren’t shot,”

Harald grunted.

“I’ll take the stones.”

Tove glanced his way.

“I should inspect it now.”

He shook his head.

“But I’ll take both over someone attacking us.”

We all agreed with that. None of us were fighters here. It was a miracle we hadn’t experienced more casualties. A miracle I highly suspected had much to do with Lady Luck branding Astrid as hers.

Astrid kept quieter than usual, sucking on her front teeth with a bitter twist of her lips and a drag to her step that struggled to keep up with ours. I fell back to match pace with her. Grabbing the water skin from my belt, I offered it to her, the faint sound of liquid sloshing inside breaking the quiet tension around us.

“How has the labyrinth compared to what you expected?”

I asked, my voice low to avoid disturbing the oppressive silence of the maze.

She accepted the water with a small nod but didn’t drink. Instead, she stared at the ground as we walked, her eyes following the slow, deliberate bend of leaves beneath our boots. The faint crunch of foliage seemed louder in the stillness.

“It started so well,”

she said finally, her voice soft, almost wistful. She handed the water back without looking up.

“My father had gone into the labyrinth when he was younger and spoke so highly of it. He didn’t win, but he counted it as the greatest adventure of his life.”

Her steps faltered slightly as she kicked a loose rock in her path. The stone skittered ahead, its hollow, echoing clatter bouncing off the labyrinth’s ancient walls.

“I’d come in to find that adventure myself, but more than that, I wanted to make him proud.”

She paused, glancing briefly at the others who’d all gone quiet to listen before continuing.

“Then Lady Luck marked me, and I thought this would be simple. Like I was born to it. I found fresh water on my first day, had a Stone God’s blessing, and had enough food packed for weeks.”

Her tone darkened as she continued, her fingers brushing absently over the frayed edge of her sleeve.

“I was attacked my second night here.”

She pulled her sleeve up just enough to reveal a thick scab running across her forearm.

“Lost all my food. Earned this painful cut in the process. I only survived because I happened to find a crevice in the wall that led me into a series of tunnels where I lost my attackers.”

She gave a dry, bitter laugh.

“Though Lady Luck must’ve had a hand in that. You all know I’m not much of a survivor.”

I thought back to how she’d hidden the last time we were attacked. The group had fallen into an uneasy hush, and even the steady scrape of our boots against stone seemed reluctant to break the quiet.

She exhaled slowly, her gaze fixed straight ahead.

“I wandered for a few days before finding Harald and Tove. Now…”

She trailed off, her voice heavy with something between exhaustion and regret.

“Now, with each day that goes, I wonder if making my father proud is worth this.”

Her words hung over us like a weight, and the labyrinth, in its cruel, shifting silence, offered no solace.

I didn’t want to see her leave. I didn’t want to see any of them leave. But Astrid sounded upon the verge of throwing her white stone of surrender. As if reading my thoughts, she sighed.

“I’ve thought of leaving, but I fear Lady Luck’s wrath if I give up. I think I can feel her sometimes, watching me. I feel others too. We have the eyes of many Stone Gods upon us.”

“We are getting closer,”

I told her.

“It won’t be more than a week now.”

“How can you know? We might be moving in the wrong direction, and be stuck here another month still.”

Harald and I exchanged glances, unspoken words rushing between us. I nodded, and he offered the information.

“The center sits below the brightest star in the east. We’ve been following it this whole time.”

A certain amount of trust came with giving that information out. If any of them betrayed us or abandoned the group, they’d be traveling blind without knowing about the star. But the parts of me that would have refused to share information had quieted.

“Good,”

Astrid breathed.

“I can last one more week.”

I remained by her side as we traveled, as opposed to Clark’s. Astrid glanced between us once but didn’t say anything. Clark didn’t move to join me either. The business with Leif drove a swift wedge between us that I didn’t know how to dislodge.

Telling him the truth of everything that had happened might do it, but something didn’t feel right inside me. Something I couldn’t name yet.

Before I could find a name for it, a wolf howled.

We all halted.

“That was close,”

Gunnar whispered.

“Too close.”

Aiden had gone white, and I knew he thought of Charlotte. But the howl was deeper than hers had been, and much more vicious.

It came again, this time joined by others.

“What did the book say about the labyrinth wolves?”

Gunnar asked. He held a curved blade in one hand as pale as the rocks around us.

“That they serve their respective Stone Gods,”

Clark replied. He reached for his own sword.

“And do their bidding.”

Harald glanced my way. I knew of one Stone God who would set them against us, and he wasn’t one I cared to cross any time soon. I reached for the necklace from Delilah as a third howl came.

Then the beast made itself seen.

It stood in the bower of trees, blocking the path we’d come from, far enough away that it might not see us yet, but if we moved, we’d be seen. No one ushered a sound.

Its thick, silver-gray coat shimmered faintly in the dappled light. Dark streaks ran along its back and legs, emphasizing the lean, muscular frame beneath. If I made it out alive, I’d never forget the look of this beast.

Its golden eyes glowed with a sharp intelligence. Those eyes could pierce through the shadows. Nothing in the forest could hide from its gaze. Its ears twitched at the faintest rustle, swiveling like finely tuned instruments to catch every sound: the whisper of wind through the leaves, the distant scurry of a footsteps from other travelers, the cautious movements of our group, pressing our backs into the stone walls that imprisoned us.

The wolf’s paws pressed against the earth as it moved, each step deliberate and soundless. Its claws, sharp and black, left faint impressions in the soft soil, marking its passage without betraying its presence. The forest seemed to bow to the wolf’s presence—stones leaning inward and a breeze scattering in an arch around it. The size of it, the way it commanded the labyrinth…

It was from Dimitri.

And its eyes landed on us.