Page 35

Clark’s and my food was delivered as we found a place to camp for the night, and we split it evenly with the group. Everyone devoured their portion in seconds except for Astrid, who picked at her meal before eventually handing it to Tove.

I appreciated that we all had a silent agreement to keep the youngest alive.

We heard wolves howl from where we’d turned them to stone. About two hours then. That’s how long I’d kept Leif at bay before he could follow. It’d been days and I’d yet to see him. Perhaps Lady Luck chose to favor me as well, and he’d turned his attention to winning the labyrinth and he’d leave me alone.

Then I remembered Lady Luck had marked him, and I doubted it.

Tove inspected everyone, wounded or not. Harald had cuts across his back, Gunnar a deep gash in his leg, and Clark’s arm had been torn, leaving the skin hanging in a way that twisted my stomach. He insisted it was fine, but Tove stitched him up regardless. I sat beside him as he tried not to scream.

When it was bandaged, he glanced at me.

“Your turn.”

He wasn’t talking about being stitched.

And he didn’t mean to just tell him. I faced the group, where we sat against stone by the base of a lake, listening to wolves howl in the distance. The bower of trees protected us from sight, but it also made it difficult to see their expressions.

“My real name is Serenity Montclair, the only daughter of Gerald Montclair, captain of the Silver Wings.”

“Gerald Montclair is your father?”

Harald asked.

Instinctively, I reached for my mother’s necklace.

“He is. I’ve been kept on an island far away from the heart of the Hundred Islands for my safety, but he always meant for me to take over control of his ships. I don’t know where he is now, but I’m in this labyrinth to fight for the future I’d prepared for, and to hopefully find my father along the way.”

Their silence stretched for a long while. It wasn’t the answer Clark waited for, but it was all I would give the group. Everything else I held too close to my chest.

Gunnar broke the quiet first.

“I call first mate!”

“You can’t, Clark’s gonna be first mate. I call second!”

Aiden said.

A laugh broke from me, releasing the tension I’d held. “What?”

“We will help you regain your father’s ships, then join your crew,”

Gunnar explained.

I wasn’t prepared for the tears that clouded my vision.

“I’ve brought danger to you,”

I explained.

“I’ve risked all your lives. More will come. Word of who I am is spreading through the labyrinth, and we aren’t safe. You aren’t safe because of me.”

Harald straightened his back, looking over his sister. I wondered what he thought. He hadn’t come here for riches or glory—he’d come because his master forced him to. And now he might die because of it. But when he glanced at me, it was with nothing but respect.

“Tove and I have been sailing our whole lives. We’d be honored to sail with someone like you. If it’s in our power to make this happen, I’ll do it.”

A simple thank you would never be enough. But I struggled to force even those small words through my tight throat before Aiden spoke.

“I’ll join the crew,”

Aiden said.

“If there’s room for me.”

This time, I managed to speak. “Always.”

“I’m in,”

Astrid added, crossing her arms over her chest. Her words were less enthusiastic and more broken. Like joining our crew was the last option but she had no other path to walk. Day by day, this labyrinth beat her down. After the wolves…I was surprised she still stood.

I looked at Clark.

“First mate?”

I asked. He was the only one not to speak up.

He gave a little nod.

“It’s settled then. We shall call our captain’s ship The Wolf Pack,”

Gunnar said. His humor always managed to cut through the tension that clung to the air.

I chuckled.

“The captain’s ship already has a name, but I shall petition to change it.”

“It’s Sea Serpent, right?”

Harald asked as he took a swig from his drink.

“My master talked about the Silver Wings from time to time, especially the vessel that heads them.”

They already got my first secret, so this one didn’t feel as big to share. I leaned in close so they knew what I was about to say was exclusive information.

“It’s actually not. The Sea Serpent is a guise to fool others. My father never boards it. He remains on one of the smaller vessels to keep his enemies from successfully cannonballing his ship or sneaking aboard to assassinate him.”

It worked, too. Several times we’d receive news clippings on Haven about the Sea Serpent being sunk, and having to be rebuilt. But we always knew my father was never aboard during the attack.

“What’s the name of his ship?”

Aiden asked.

I smiled.

“Once we win, I’ll tell you.”

The group kept talking, mainly about what they would name their ship or how grand life would be with the Silver Wings, as if knowing my father once ran them had somehow guaranteed us the win. As I watched them, the hunger in my belly faded until I hardly noticed the ache, and memories of the wolf didn’t make my bones tremble. Out of everything the labyrinth threw my way, they’d been the most surprising.

May you find yourself in the labyrinth.

I didn’t know if I’d found myself. But I’d found them.

As the others broke into sleeping shifts—some rolling to their sides to close their eyes while others sat watch—Clark tugged on my sleeve. He stood, and I followed him out of the bower into the scant light by the glassy lake. The silver glow of the moon reflected on the still surface, casting shimmering ripples as if the stars themselves had fallen into the water.

Clark cut his gaze across the distance in his thoughtful way where I knew his mouth was quiet but his mind was loud.

“The wolves didn’t hunt you because of your father.”

He tucked his hands into his pockets, his silhouette sharp against the faint mist rising from the water. The cool breeze tousled his hair.

The faint outline of his breath lingered as he exhaled.

“Dimitri, Leif…none of it is because of who your father is.”

My throat tightened as his green eyes found me.

“The wolf called you a child of Dawson. Who was Dawson?”

It felt very much like the day by the cliffs when I’d told him who my father was, hoping he’d believe me, knowing it sounded too far-fetched to be true. Mainly hoping he wouldn’t laugh.

“I’m Gerald Montclair’s daughter.”

His long pause, those kind eyes never harboring doubt for one second.

“I suppose you should know how to sail then.”

I mustered up my courage.

“You’re right—it’s not my father’s bloodline they care about. It’s my mother’s.”

I told him everything.

Clark listened quietly, his brow pinched together when I got to parts about Leif. When I noted the time, his frown deepened.

“Why didn’t you mention you met him the night by the manor?”

“It wasn’t important,”

I replied.

“Now it is.”

He didn’t ask anything again until I’d finished my tale. Then he stayed quiet for the longest time.

“Please say something,”

I whispered.

He worked his jaw.

“How do you know it’s true? Allison never hid your father from you, but she hid her entire past? How do you know it’s not wistful thinking?”

My spirits fell.

“I didn’t wish for this. I didn’t wish for any of this. But Leif wears an identical necklace that proves it’s from Callahan. How else would my mother get it if it wasn’t hers?”

Clark’s eyes went to my clavicle. He reached for the chain, pulling free Delilah’s necklace. The blue gem sparkled like the lake beside us.

“And what’s this?”

“I asked Delilah for protection against Dimitri, and she granted me this.”

I didn’t dare mention her price. Clark looked irritated enough.

“Geez, Ren,”

he said, frustration lacing his voice.

“Have we even been in the labyrinth together? Stone gods, your mother’s identity, Leif…and I wasn’t there for any of it.”

“That’s all been odd coincidences.”

“Except for sneaking out last night to meet with Delilah, which you waited to do until I’d fallen asleep.”

A flicker of pain shot through me, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his eyes.

Beside us, a fallen orange leaf floated on the glassy lake, and I watched it for a while, feeling very much like we were the same. Gliding over the water set on drowning us. Trying to figure out where the smooth currents were. Suddenly too far from shore to ever be safe again.

I swallowed hard.

“I keep my cards close to my chest. I’ve always been like that.”

Clark’s voice softened, turning sad.

“You weren’t always like that with me.”

My shoulders hung low while I tried to find something to say to make him feel better. He beat me to it.

“How am I supposed to protect you if you aren’t with me?”

“I’m the one who should be protecting you. For as long as I live, Clark, I’m going to be protecting you.”

My voice broke, and something broke between us as well.

The strife between us had come to a climax, but I felt it shift now, dissipating as Clark sighed. He stepped closer to me, the frustration in his expression melting away. I let him hands come to my arms, feel his breath on my forehead, smell the labyrinth clinging to him.

“We protect each other,”

he corrected.

“Thick or thin, stone gods or labyrinth or a fleet of merchant ships, I will be with you through it all.”

I nodded, though the motion felt heavy with doubt. A part of me wished I could be the one to set everything right, even if I couldn’t pinpoint where we’d gone wrong. It gnawed at me, this uncertainty, this unraveling of something I once thought was unbreakable. When did I stop trusting Clark with everything? He’d proven himself time and time again, standing firm like a shield between me and the chaos of the world.

So why wasn’t that enough?

My chest tightened as the question lingered. Clark’s gaze softened. He reached out, his fingers gentle as they lifted my chin. His touch steadied me, even as I felt unworthy of it. Then his lips brushed against mine like a whispered promise. Warmth spread through me, a quiet ember chasing away the cold.

Everything about Clark felt soft, honest, and good. He was sunlight filtering through cracks in the storm clouds, a place to rest when the weight of the world became too much. And yet, I felt like jagged stones, sharp edges that cut into him each day, tearing at what he gave so freely.

He pulled away before the spark between us could ignite into something more.

“I’m sorry,”

I said, the words trembling as they left my lips.

“There’s a lot going on in my head, and I’m not doing any of this right.”

His brow furrowed, but his touch didn’t waver. Instead, he swept his thumb gently across my cheek.

“Let me in,”

he urged.

“And we will figure it out together.”

The sincerity in his words hit me like a wave, and I felt something loosen in my chest, though I couldn’t quite name it. Could I do that? Could I let him in completely? I didn’t know. But as his hand rested against my cheek and his eyes searched mine, I wanted to try.

I promised, but even as I said it, I knew I’d have a beastly time keeping my vow. The truth didn’t come naturally to me. It never had. I grew up with my mother’s words over me: Never tell anyone who you are. They will come for you if they find you. To let someone in, let them see all of me, it took a strength I wasn’t sure I had.

When Clark looked at me, I swore he could hear the tumbling of my thoughts.

“Tell me this. Would you give up the Silver Wings for me?”

“No,”

I replied. Captaining the Silver Wings had always been more than a dream, it felt as certain as the blood rushing through my veins.

“But once, I was willing to leave you behind to get the Silver Wings. I no longer want one without the other. I can’t give up the Silver Wings, Clark. But I promise not to give you up either.”

I hesitated to ask, but I needed to know.

“You never wanted a life on the seas. Has that changed?”

He glanced around us, back to me.

“Land is fun, but the adventure lies with you. I love you, Serenity Montclair. I’ll love you until the day I die.”

It struck me then. There was our problem.

Clark would love me even if it drove him to his grave, then he’d keep loving me from his coffin. Meanwhile I’d be too oblivious to realize he’d died.

Our love might be a field of flowers, or we’d be petals on a tomb. There was no way to guess which way we’d fall.

Clark didn’t give me time to say it back, leaving me to guess if he suspected the words would get caught in my throat. He led the way back to the group, while I tried to see him differently—as a partner who stood at my side in the battles ahead. It was a difficult image to conjure. To me, he’d always be the lanky island boy whose innocence I needed to preserve.