Page 52

Marin

Falling.

I plunged, heart in my throat, terror clenching like a fist. No sound. Just the wind howling past, whipping my hair, my mind blank with panic.

Slam! My body crashed into something thick and earthy, sponge-like, that swallowed the force of my fall. The air whooshed from my chest. I gasped, but nothing came as my throat convulsed, desperate for breath. I stared up, unseeing through the mist as rocks and debris continued to rain down.

The monsters screeched above. Wild. Savage. Crashing into stone.

A shout—severed.

Gavin…

My vision blurred, eyes fluttered closed. Blackness swirled. Then, a gasp. I came to in silence. The maze was eerily still. My heart raced, my mind sick with fear.

Did Gavin fall?

Had the monsters—?

A choked sound broke from my throat. No. He was fine. Gavin Blackwood would never fall to a statue—or six.

He was alive.

He had to be .

I sat up, and pain burned through my side. Blood dripped from my fingers, soaking into the moss.

Frowning, I slid my sleeve to my elbow and winced. Deep slashes ran down my arm, jagged and raw. The fabric was shredded from the branches in the maze. I ripped what was left of the sleeve and clenched my teeth as I wound the strip around my forearm, tying a knot to stem the bleeding.

Not that it did much good.

Gavin was always the one to wrap my wounds. He would’ve pulled the knot tighter, would've given me hell if he saw it like this, then teased me until I forgot it hurt.

“Think you can do better, Blackwood?” I muttered, wiping my bloody hands on my tunic. “Then you better be alive to fix it.”

Muscles screaming, I forced myself up, fingers digging into the strange moss-like vegetation beneath me. It was a rich emerald green, soft, almost like velvet.

I crawled forward, the moss absorbing my movements until a glint of something caught my eye. It was partially buried beneath branches and fallen stone. But I recognized the curved edge of the blade.

Gavin's cutlass.

I went still.

My hands shook as I pulled it free. Blood streaked the hilt, dark against the silver. The sword fell into my lap. I scanned the mossy ledge, lungs pulling in sharp, useless breaths. I was still so high up. The mist swirled over the massive drop.

“Gavin.” His name came out as a whisper.

Then I screamed it.

“Answer me!”

I bent over the blade when he didn't, curling into myself. Tears stung behind my eyes. I had to keep moving. Meet him at the top.

I lifted his cutlass, dragging it with me, my arm throbbing, muscles strained and aching. He was right. The sword was heavy. A strangled laugh burned in my throat.

“I see why you bought me darts.”

I staggered toward a stone ledge, tucking it under my arm. My chin trembled.

“Please don't make me carry this alone.”

I reached a set of stairs carved into a rock wall. The strange moss coated those, too. My boots sank with a muted hush, the vegetation swallowing every step. It was unsettling, like walking on nothing but air, weightless, soundless, like I’d disappeared.

The stairway led to a dark, narrow opening. I looped my magic-infused light over my head and entered the pitch-black tunnel. Then I checked my satchel for the cloud token, making sure I hadn’t lost it in my fall. It was still there, tucked inside its leather pouch.

As I traveled deeper through the tunnel, the moss beneath my feet thinned, and the muffle of my footsteps turned to sharp echoes against the narrow walls. This had to lead back up. The castle sat at the center of the maze, and the cloud moat was its only entrance.

The air changed the farther I went, becoming lighter as the path sloped upward beneath my boots.

I didn’t know where I was going or what I’d find at the end of the tunnel.

But I couldn't stop. I'd made a promise to Sirena.

And to myself. To my future. Whatever I found—or didn't—even if it broke me, this time, I wouldn't break my word.

The tunnel ended at a door, secured with an iron padlock.

I dropped to my knees, my hands stiff and numb as I worked the lock.

The tension wrench trembled between my fingers.

I couldn’t find the right placement. I’d picked hundreds of locks effortlessly.

The last time had been with hairpins, in front of Annie, while she watched with wide eyes like I could do anything.

I used to look at my father that way. Like he could solve any problem with just a reassuring smile and a story. And then, one day, he was gone. And I didn’t know where I fit anymore. Just that I had to carry the weight of everything by myself.

Until I met Gavin. He never said anything. Never asked. He just took all the weight away as if it had been his to bear.

It hit me without warning, like a punch to the gut. Gavin had carried so many pieces of me without complaint, without needing anything in return. Always teasing me forward, never pulling me back. And now, not even a magical map could show me how to move forward if I'd lost him.

I pressed my forehead to the door, willing my fingers to break the lock, to find a way through.

Finally, the lock gave with a harsh click.

Like the maze itself was mocking me, daring me to keep going.

I accepted, picking up the weight of this awful quest, his cutlass, and the fragile hope he was waiting at the top. Then I slipped into the passage.

Another set of stairs led to a series of dimly lit hallways, their cold stone walls flickering with torchlight.

A draft curled against my neck, stronger now, like the steady pull of open air.

I followed the draft, skimming my fingers along the wall to ground myself in the claustrophobic silence.

Somewhere beyond these walls, the cloud walk was waiting.

I was close. Thin trails of mist curled along the floor, carried in from the outside .

Another door appeared at the end of the passage. However, this one was merely bars fixed to a rusty hinge. Similar to the bars that had encased my prison cell. But the other side didn’t contain sand and coarse rock, it was treasure.

The bars whined as I pushed through them into the chamber.

My heart quickened. This was likely extra spoils, long forgotten relics, mixed with…

my gaze sharpened. Piles of weapons and old armor lay discarded in the corners, some half-buried beneath layers of dust and debris. Cobwebs stretched across them.

This wasn’t a treasure room. It was a graveyard. A place where the maze had emptied its dead.

So many had tried. So many had failed.

I reached for a pack lying near a pair of worn boots. The pockets were full of tools. The satchel brimming with old rations, canteens, gloves, two of everything.

A lump hardened in my throat.

Whoever they were, they hadn’t started alone. But they ended that way. A partnership broken. A dream lost. This place was where fools believed they were different. The best. That they’d be spared the truth: You don’t always make it back.

Exhaling a shaky breath, I searched through more of the artifacts, looking for anything that might give me an edge. A clue to the giant, until a strange feeling prickled across my skin. As if this room was more than just haunted, like it was studying me, waiting for me to discover its secret.

On the far wall, something loomed behind a drape of faded cloth. Unease tensed my muscles as I tugged the fabric away in a cloud of dust.

It was a mirror, framed in solid gold.

I peered into the glass, but my reflection didn’t peer back .

Brushing my fingers against the surface, I jerked back when the mirror glowed. Clouds swirled inside the frame, churning like a storm before clearing. At first, I didn’t recognize what I was seeing. But then, I saw the paths. The maze.

The labyrinth stretched out in eerie silence. Dark figures moved through the passages. Some were running. Others cowered against the stone. The creatures screeched, and the sound echoed through the glass, making me look over my shoulder to make sure they hadn’t found me here.

As I watched, I realized none of this was happening in real-time. These were visions of hunters who’d come before.

I reached out again, my finger touching the glass. The haze churned, shifting the vision, and blurring the maze to reveal an expanse of white clouds.

A hunter walked across, his steps methodical, his gaze fixed on the castle ahead.

But a second hunter hesitated. He stood at the edge, battered and bleeding.

His arm hung limply at his side, likely broken.

Instead of crossing, he turned sharply toward an arched stone doorway carved into the cliffside.

The doorway didn’t lead back to the maze. Beyond it was sunlight and green grass. A path to safety for those willing to take it. Without another glance, the hunter stepped through and vanished.

A third man held a token in his hand. He stepped into the air, and a gust of wind sailed through him, knocking him off balance. The token slipped from his fingers. A second of silence. Then his mouth opened in a scream as he plummeted below the clouds.

My eyes snapped shut. I could still feel that weightlessness. The sheer terror of falling.

The haze churned once more. Now, a massive chamber appeared, with vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows. A rope bridge spanned a dark chasm that split the room into two. On the other side, an arched doorway. A wide stone platform stretched along the wall, and on it, a giant slept.

This was the entrance to the treasure room. The one that held the shard.

A man appeared at the bridge’s edge. He hesitated, hands gingerly gripping the ropes. A faint creak echoed, not just in the vision, but in the room around me. His boot touched the first board. Another creak.

The giant’s eyes snapped open.

A roar shook the bridge. The man swayed, terror contorting his features as the giant plucked him from the bridge and dropped him like a rock into the pit.

I wrapped my arms around my middle, my breath shallow as the mirror swirled and a different man appeared.

He made it to the fourth board. The bridge creaked.

The giant woke. Three more hunters tried the bridge.

The first slipped, falling through a gap between the boards.

The others were swatted from the ledge by the giant’s fist.

One after another, the scenes played. The tiniest creak. A warped board scraping. A breath of sound—

The giant woke.

Not one of them even reached the middle of the bridge, where the boards were pristine and untouched. You couldn’t cross without making noise. Many had tried. Some had even gotten clever, trying to swing over with ropes. Some tried to distract the giant first and then run.

Every single one of them learned the same truth: If you wake the giant, you die.

A cold shiver wrapped around my spine. I was going to die on that bridge. It wasn’t fatalism. It was a fact. The bridge was a death sentence.

And I still had to try. Because I was dead either way. By curse or by giant. Suddenly, the bats didn’t sound like such a bad way to go. Better the devil you know than a giant’s fist. But at least trying the bridge meant I hadn’t given up. That I fought to the end.

A promise kept.

I draped the cloth back over the mirror, ready to get it over with and join the long line of deathly visions behind a pane of glass. Immortality in a way. A hunter’s dream.

And maybe that was the irony of this hunt: luring adventurers from far and wide with an impossible task, meant only to grant them their wish of lasting glory.

But that wish was never mine.

I had only wanted to restore a house by the sea. To walk hand in hand on the beach with the man I loved. Pick sea glass. Tell stories. Not immortal, just living. Every day, with love and family.

Coming here was my fault. I should've pushed Gavin away harder. Made sure that the rail was secure. Tried again. When I stepped off that beach, I should've kept walking and found my way alone. Like I had after my father died.

Gavin was still out there... I could feel it. He said he'd never let me go, and I believed him. But we couldn't be partners again. Because partners risk too much. And I refused to take him down with me.

So I wouldn't search for him anymore. The maze had separated us as if it knew I'd see this through alone.

The way I started would be the way I ended.

The bars stood open before me. A choice this time, instead of a prison. All I had to do was step through.

And so I did.

The air was as cold as the mines used to be, the rock walls pressing in. I set his cutlass gently on the floor, my fingers tracing the hilt. I could leave another note. Get in the last word like I promised I would.

But what would I say?

If I die…

The rules of our game whispered in my mind. Gavin had never let me finish that sentence. Not once.

If I die… it wasn't your fault.

I stood, empty-handed now. Then I kept walking, eyes locked on the path that would lead to the castle.

Until a shadow flickered ahead in the dim torchlight, and a figure melted out of the dark.

The hunter stepped forward, hesitant and slow, just like the ones in the mirror. Was I watching another grim scene unfold? I almost shouted for him to turn back. To tell him it was useless.

It was too late.

His boots thudded against the stone. I braced for the giant’s roar. For the inevitable. It never came. The man halted mid-step, as if time had seized around him.

Our gazes locked.

And the mirror in my mind shattered.