Page 42

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

Clark stiffened beside me. His lips thinned into a hard, unforgiving line. “Good,”

he said coldly.

“We need Leif gone.”

I didn’t answer. My throat tightened, my chest constricting as I watched Leif struggle beneath the weight of his attacker. His movements were sluggish, his strength fading with every second. The others reached him now, their shadows blending into a chaotic mass as they descended on him.

Leif fought back, but it was weak, his strikes wild and desperate. His dagger—my dagger—was in his hand, its blade trembling in his grip. He slashed at one of his attackers, catching their arm, but it wasn’t enough to stop them. They retaliated with a brutal kick to his ribs, and Leif cried out in pain.

“He’s going to die,”

I whispered, my voice trembling.

Clark’s jaw tightened.

“Then let him. The less competition we have, the better.”

But I couldn’t look away. My heart pounded as I watched Leif’s head drop back to the ground, his breaths shallow, his hands barely lifting the dagger in defense. He was losing.

Every instinct in me screamed to stay hidden, to let the labyrinth take him. But Leif looked up and I saw his eyes, and suddenly none of my emotions made sense.

Clark studied me.

“Ren, we keep our heads down.”

“I know, I know. Not our ocean, not our tide.”

The words clawed their way through my throat, leaving behind a bitter taste.

One of the attackers was speaking.

“The mighty son of Vincent. How far you’ve fallen.”

Blood trickled from Leif’s lip to carve a path down his neck. His dark eyes were feral, his jaw clenched, and his knuckles white over the hilt of his dagger.

The three circled him.

“What price do you think Vincent will pay for the life of his son?”

“Very little, I’m afraid,”

Leif replied. From what he’d told me, I knew that to be true.

They must have realized that too. One of the three, a burly man with a thick beard, chuckled.

“Then there’s no reason to keep you alive.”

The sharp sound of steel made Leif’s eyes widen as the man slide his sword from its sheath. The other three did the same, and one by one they lowered them to Leif. He growled, but he was nothing more than an animal trapped in their cage.

He was going to die.

“Ren, look away,”

Clark ordered.

Delilah’s necklace burned hotter, like she could read my mind.

My left hand tightened over my sword while my right hand gripped my axe, and I ran.

Leif’s eyes snapped to me as I emerged to bury the axe in the nearest one. The attacker cried out before he fell. I tossed the sword to Leif just as he loosed his dagger into the second. It landed lethally. The man dropped.

The third blinked at his two fallen friends, then at us. Leif grinned as he twirled the hilt of my sword in his hand to find its balance. Then he faced the third—and only remaining—opponent. I stood beside him.

“Who are you?”

the man stuttered, backing up as Leif and I walked closer to him.

“She,”

Leif answered for me.

“Is the most interesting thing to happen to this labyrinth.”

The man lifted his blade, but his confidence had gone, leaving behind a trembling fool who Leif disarmed quickly. His body soon fell just as the other two had.

I pulled my dagger free from an earlier body. Steel and blood shimmered in the moonlight.

“I’ve been missing this.”

“Too bad. I’ve grown attached.”

Leif held out his hand.

“Besides, it’s only fair since you stole mine.”

“Ren!”

Clark stood behind me, his sword held high.

Leif startled at his sight, then laughed.

“You brought a lover into the labyrinth?”

I stayed silent as he tsked his tongue. He looked over Clark with great interest.

“Foolish thing to do.”

Fear surged within me, and whatever madness drove me to save Leif calmed. Before Leif could do anything else, I threw my dagger back at him, aiming for his leg.

The blade sank into his flesh. Leif roared.

“If anyone is going to kill you, it’s going to be me,”

I told him as he sank to his knees. Then, ignoring Clark’s look, I darted into our hiding place to grab my bag and took off down the path while Leif screamed in pain behind us.

He’d be fine. I knew he had a healing tonic. For some reason, knowing that made me feel a lot better.

Delilah’s markings weren’t there to guide us. But the star in the east was. I followed it as best as I could while Clark ran silently beside me. I’d lost my sword—the second weapon I’d given Leif—but I still had my axe and Leif’s old dagger.

We ran until Clark found the most ordinary looking part of the hedge maze, with simple ivy walls and a plain dirt floor, where he stopped.

“We should rest here. You still need sleep.”

I sunk to my knees.

“How close do you suppose we are now? Days?”

He glanced up.

“I’d say so. Closer than anyone thought we would.”

I got to work digging out a place to sleep in the walls of the hedge, very interested in keeping my hands busy so my mind would be quiet. It took a minute to realize Clark wasn’t working beside me.

When I glanced up, his skin was pale.

“What was that?” he asked.

My heart lurched within me.

“I don’t know. I guess after watching the boy be killed by wolves earlier, I wasn’t eager to see someone else die.”

“But it’s Leif. If he dies, your world gets significantly easier. He’s your main competition in this labyrinth. He’s the son of your father’s enemy who has always wanted the Silver Wings for himself. He’s put a bounty on your head. Ren…he should be everything you despise.”

Clark was right. Leif should be.

Somehow, when I saw the attackers closing in, all I could think was save him.

I hated myself for that.

That had been my chance to trade his life for Delilah’s fulfill my obligation to her and rid myself of the one who was actively making my life harder, yet I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hurt him. He was stubborn and infuriating and miserable but I couldn’t kill him.

“I’m not a killer,” I said.

“You’ve killed to save me,”

Clark noted. He didn’t say it, but I heard the rest. You’ve killed to save Leif.

I had no reply for him.

Clark dug out his makeshift hut in tense silence. He tore the vines away with more force than necessary, the strands snapping in his hands and scattering green tendrils across the ground. With each motion, his frustration grew more pronounced until his jaw was tight and his breaths were clipped. He shoved his pack into the space he’d cleared. The bag landed with a dull thud against the soil.

When he was done, he leaned back on his knees, his shoulders rising and falling as he sucked in a deep breath. The rising sun stretched across the sky, spilling golden light over the labyrinth, softening the hard edges of the world. But it couldn’t soften Clark. The light made a home in the fiery red of his hair, catching the strands like sparks, but it didn’t touch his eyes. They were stormy and distant, fixed on something invisible that churned in the space between us.

I dared not cross that space.

I never liked it when Clark was mad. It didn’t happen often—he was the steady one, the one who could find calm in chaos—but when it did, it was as if the whole world had to hold its breath. His anger wasn’t loud or explosive. He wouldn’t yell or throw things. That wasn’t Clark. His was a quiet, simmering rage, the kind that seeped into the air and made it thick, heavy, and impossible to ignore.

It set my teeth on edge, the tension crawling under my skin like a thousand tiny needles. It was the kind of anger that demanded the universe realign itself to his will, that nothing could be right until he was. I hated how it made me feel—helpless, unbalanced, and desperate to fix whatever had broken in him. Knowing I was the one to set him off kilter.

I crouched a few steps away, watching him from the corner of my eye. I wanted to say something, but the weight of his mood stifled the words before they could form. Instead, I stayed quiet. The moment stretched between us like a fragile thread, uncertain if pulling it would mend or unravel everything.

Clark exhaled, his breath breaking the silence like a stone dropped in still water. His hands flexed once, twice, then stilled, resting against his thighs.

“It’s fine,”

he muttered, but his tone betrayed him. It wasn’t fine, not even close, and we both knew it.

I shifted, unsure whether to press or leave him be. But his anger was magnetic, pulling me closer despite every instinct screaming to stay back. “Clark,”

I said softly, testing the waters.

He didn’t look at me, his gaze still fixed on some distant point.

“Just… let it go, Ren.”

But I couldn’t. Not when the seething in his voice twisted something in my chest. Not when the rising sun framed him in light and shadow, and all I wanted was to see the storm in his eyes clear.

Surprisingly, Clark was the one to speak again.

“He carries your dagger.”

His green eyes found mine, and a deep question sat in them, one I didn’t want to touch.

“We…traded I guess.”

He nodded like that was all he needed to know.

“I will keep my head low,”

I promised him.

“Whatever you tell me to do, I’ll do it.”

Clark was already shaking his head.

“I should have known keeping your head low wasn’t your style. Go to sleep, Ren. There’s nothing more to be said.”

But words were left unspoken anyway. I would find them before I slept and make things right again.

I sank to the floor to slide my body into the hollow space I’d created and pulled the vines down to cover my body. I had to dig deeper to be hidden during the day, but it allowed me more space from Clark while I processed my thoughts. They were moving too fast to grab hold of, but I managed to wrestle them into something coherent.

Leif was a distraction. I’d seen enough girls get distracted on the island to know what it looked like. I’d seen Leif cry over his fallen brother, seek out revenge, and heard his sad story about not being loved by his father. Somewhere along the labyrinth, I’d gotten entangled with him. He’d pulled my heartstrings just enough to make me confused. But I could cast off the confusion. I could cast off him.

I could forget the way I felt when he was about to die, how my entire being couldn’t think until he was safe. I could forget the way he’d looked at me when I came to his rescue.

Just like that, I wouldn’t think of him anymore.

My dreams proved me a liar.

I woke after too many hours of sleep. I knew it as my eyelids opened. Too much light spilled into my hiding place for only a few hours to have passed, and my body felt too rested. I waited to be sure there was no noise, then broke through the vines.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked.

Silence.

“Clark?”

I turned each way, finding labyrinth walls and nothing else. He might have gone for water, or have found food somehow. If I only waited, he’d come around the corner in a moment with his innocent smile and I’d get to tell him that I was sorry for whatever happened last night and that he means more to me than anyone. We’d spend the next two days reaching the center of the labyrinth and then our life would begin.

A slip of paper peeked through the labyrinth wall. I grabbed it, and unrolled the parchment.

Ren,

You always told me you couldn’t love me. I don’t think I saw it until now.

I’m going to win this labyrinth for you and prove that I’m the man you deserve. But I can’t stay and watch you fall in love with someone else.

When this is over, I hope to have earned your respect.

Stay alive. I love you.

Yours forever, Clark