Page 37

We ran until we had no strength left in our legs or will in our bodies to take another step. Tove gave up long ago, having spent the last hour on Harald’s back. Astrid kept quiet the entire time. And it was only when we stopped that I realized Gunnar had been injured.

“You all should have run,”

I grumbled. Clark shot me a look.

“Sorry. I meant to say thank you for fighting.”

Gunnar eased himself into a sitting position. The wound on his leg had opened and now it was accompanied by a slash along his side.

“It’s only because we want that reward money for ourselves.”

He leaned his head against a hedge and closed his eyes.

“We plan to knock you out tonight and deliver you to Leif.”

I chuckled just because I knew he joked.

But something bitter had been growing in me all day, and his comment only festered the growth. They should turn me in. But I doubted they would.

And that choice might lead them to their deaths.

If someone came after me and killed them in the process, I’d never forgive myself.

“Stop trying to protect me, and let me fight at your side.”

“Fine. I won’t suggest you leave again.”

I wouldn’t make Clark leave. But I couldn’t stay.

I made my plans as we drifted to sleep. I’d be the last shift in the night. I’d stay in the shadows to watch over them, but they wouldn’t see me come morning. Once they left, I’d crawl out of my hiding place and go the other way to divert danger from them. Whatever their fate might be in this labyrinth, it wouldn’t be tied to mine.

Clark would be the hardest to leave. But he was always the noble one, so he’d understand why I had to do this. I drifted to sleep savoring the warmth of him beside me.

Dreams came fitfully and without respite.

Then the dreams stopped.

I stood in a garden, but it wasn’t like any garden I’d ever been in. The flowers were made of mist, the grass of velvet, the clouds of silky cotton. I wasn’t dreaming, I knew that much. Had a stone god come to visit? I meant to look for them, but I couldn’t focus once I spotted the table.

A long, weathered wooden table stretched beneath the shade of massive, twisting willow trees in the middle of the garden, its surface carved with intricate runes glowing faintly in the twilight. Wildflowers and ivy crept along its edges, spilling over like nature reclaiming it.

The table was laden with a feast of fantastical dishes. A glowing fruit platter, with orb-like fruits in deep blues, shimmering golds, and vivid purples. A towering crystal decanter filled with swirling, silver liquid that poured itself into goblets of carved emerald. Platters of roasted meats ranging from spiced drumsticks and slices of dragonfruit-stuffed venison released fragrant steam. Then a pie as wide as a shield, filled with stardust berries that glistened like the night sky, its crust dusted with edible gold flakes.

My waist collided with the table. I’d hardly realized I was walking.

Candles of varying heights perched atop the table, their flames casting a soft light. The garden around the table felt alive. Bioluminescent mushrooms glowed at the base of trees, tiny winged creatures flitted among the flowers, and the soft hum of unseen magic lingered in the air.

“Delilah sends her regards,”

a voice that was decidedly not Delilah said.

I turned to find the bright green eyes of August Apothecary twinkling. He extended a hand over the table.

“Sit. Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

I reached for a chair. The chairs around the table were mismatched—some elegant thrones of silver and crystal, while others were simple stumps covered in moss and cushions embroidered with constellations. I picked the simplest one and sat upon it, while August watched as if it were some kind of test.

I wasn’t certain if I’d passed, but he grinned at my chair selection. He picked a simpler one for himself as well and sat. He left his riding gloves on while plucking a cherry to pop in his mouth, and flung his feet upon the table.

“You’ve been fun to watch.”

I picked a slab of meat.

“I don’t care for you watching me. Can you tell Delilah I said thanks for the food?”

“Noted,”

August said, and I couldn’t tell if he meant about not watching me or that he’d give Delilah my thanks.

“She would have come but she’s busy keeping others off your scent—competitors and stone gods alike. It’s not often that a mortal captures as much of our attention as you have, which is ironic because every single one of us passed you over when you first arrived. We thought you were nothing. Ha! Imagine that.”

He must’ve meant that as a compliment, but he had an unkind way of delivering it. I took another bite as my cheeks warmed.

“You never told me which way you’d betted,”

I said, referencing our earlier meeting. He’d offered to kill each of my companions—save Clark—to settle a curiosity he had. I had to wake to deal with the fire and we never got to finish that competition.

His eyes gleamed.

“Would you like to take the offer now?”

“No.”

He popped a second cherry into his mouth then spit out the seed.

“Then I’d betted right.”

I was too busy inhaling everything I could to mind him. I’d be grateful to leave this labyrinth behind soon—and I’d never come back. August could bet on that. I’d bet the entire Silver Wings fleet that I’d never return to the Quarter Labyrinth. All I’d keep were these beautiful weapons and the horrible memories.

This meal would go a long way in fueling me for the days to come.

When I looked up, I found August watching me.

“What did I tell you about being watched?”

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve.

“You’ve got a drive I don’t see often. It’s a wonder we all missed it at first.”

He let his feet drop from the table, and leaned his elbows against it.

“But you’ve gotten cocky. Your little stunt with turning Leif to stone captured the attention of many Stone Gods. Combined with the bounty Leif put on you—and most doubt you’ll live through tomorrow.”

“I’ve got Delilah,”

I reminded him.

He clapped, but it was mocking.

“The Stone God who practically wallowed away for centuries. Congrats. You need more.”

I poured myself a goblet to toast it at him.

“I also have you.”

Amusement danced in his smile.

I set my glass down.

“Just tell me what deal you’re trying to make and be done.”

He looked delighted I’d asked.

“You’re smarter than you appear.”

Before I could absorb that backhanded comment, he went on.

“Here’s my deal. Delilah wants out, right? She’s convinced you to trade her existence for someone else, and you’re planning to make Leif a stone god?”

It unnerved me how much he knew. If Leif figured that out, he’d be much harder to trick.

I took a sip of my wine in response. I’d expected the taste to be sweet, but it was so bitter that I almost spit it out.

August’s thin lips widened.

“Choose anyone else.”

Now I did spit out the wine. “Why?”

“Leif is dull.”

His voice dripped with boredom.

“He’s all anger and no play. When this labyrinth isn’t open to you mortals, all we have is each other, and I don’t care to spend eternity with him. Pick anyone else, please.”

His green eyes burned with a feral intensity, a stark contrast to the casual way he leaned in his chair.

“And in return?”

“In return, I change Clark’s fate.”

My heartbeat faltered, stumbling over itself like a misstep in a dance. I waited for him to smile, to laugh, to dismiss his words as a cruel jest. But his gaze didn’t waver. The way he stared at me—steady, expectant, and unnervingly calm—drew the air from my lungs.

“What’s wrong with his fate?”

I whispered, my voice trembling against the weight of his words.

“I can’t see all of it,”

he admitted, his tone shifting to something softer, almost regretful.

“But I see enough to know it won’t please you. I’ll do what I can to stop it, if you promise not to trap us with Leif.”

His words clawed at the edges of my thoughts, but I held my ground.

“Don’t be coy,”

I said, forcing the words past my lips.

“What do you see?”

The air between us grew taut, as if the labyrinth itself held its breath. His eyes darkened, swirling with secrets and shadows, and for the first time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer.

Suddenly Delilah stood behind him, her gown of homespun wool and her hair dripping in flowers.

“Serenity, you must wake.”

I dug my feet into the ground as if I could plant myself in the dream by sheer will. The food no longer interested me. It felt heavy in my stomach. It was the conversation I needed to have more of.

“No, I want to hear about Clark.”

“Lady Luck is at play. Wake, child.”

She snapped her fingers, and everything slipped away like water in my hands I could never hold.

When I woke, everything was wrong.