Page 51 of Quarter Labyrinth

I suspected we’d acquire blood from the others before this all ended.

But I didn’t move to clean the blood, and neither did anyone else. I’d wear it like a proud memento of my alliance.

A small victory came when we checked the body of Bjorn and his companion to find they both carried deliciously full flasks of crisp water. We shared the water all around.

Before we left, I took Bjorn’s sword with me. “Just like my father,” I whispered to Clark. “An axe and a sword.”

“He’ll be proud of you,” Clark whispered back. His words snatched the warmth in the air, spreading it over my skin, nesting in my chest. I allowed myself to believe it, to imagine my father’s approval when at last we met.

Harald rallied us together with some speech about how perseverance would make us stronger, and pointed east. “We will continue onward together.” He started first, just as the sun came up to color the sky violet. Tove followed closely behind, trailed by Gunnar, Aiden, and Astrid.

I fastened my belt with my new weapon, then held out my arms for Clark. “How do I look?”

His eyes soaked me in for longer than I intended. I dropped my arms as my face flushed. “The others are getting ahead of us.”

His hand caught mine when I walked past. “I don’t know what I would do if I lose you,” he said. The heat in his breathwashed over me. His control lost its footing, slipping into something dangerous and raw.

It was that feeling that had led him to kill Bjorn for me. The same thing that led me to kill for him early in the labyrinth. The one that bound us together, no matter where we were, keeping us whole. Clark had always been there…and perhaps I didn’t see it because it felt too easy. Like falling for your best friend only happened in storybooks. But this morning, I wanted to know what it felt like to fall.

I lifted my chin to see his face close to mine. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He wasn’t asking for my heart again. He’d asked enough.

But for the first time, I wasn’t saying no.

I wondered if he sensed the shift. From the tremor of hope in his green eyes, he did. His hand brushed mine, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver through my bone-tired body. Clark hesitated, his eyes searching mine, looking for the rejection that always followed.

I smiled softly, a quiet reassurance, and stepped closer. The faint scent of him filled the space between us as his hand rose, trembling slightly, to gently cup my cheek. His skin was warm beneath his fingers, and I leaned into his touch, my gaze never wavering.

His arms dropped to slip around my waist, taking care not to near my wound. They captured me, holding me close to him. Exploring me for the first time.

When his mouth came to mine, I met him in the middle.

Clark had never been kissed, and neither had I. Still, with nothing to compare it to, it thrilled me. His lips were soft, his touches gentle. The curve of them fit against mine so well, it was as if they were meant to be there. I pressed into the feeling, giving it permission to devour me.

To destroy me, if it wished.

I ran my hands through the tangles of his red hair, down the length of his jaw, around the back of his neck. I soaked in the touch of him like it were the water I desperately needed.

For this moment in time, I needed nothing else.

His lips parted softly before coming together again. His hands roved the expanse of my back. When I pulled away, everything else returned. The labyrinth, the stone gods, the howl of wolves, my missing father. But the ache in my chest didn’t hurt as much, and my need to find my place in this world felt less urgent. He’d taken it away, if only a little bit.

“Thank you,” Clark breathed. He stepped away and ran his hands through his hair. He straightened his body, fixed his shirt, and removed all evidence that I’d been there. It looked very much like a man putting his armor back on. “I suppose we should follow the others before they come looking.”

I tried to sort my own emotions as we rejoined the group. I had all day of traveling to sort them, and the best I came up with was how safe I felt. Clark was a harbor far from jagged rocks, a sea without storms, a mast that would never crack.

He was the security I didn’t know I needed.

We made it through the stone maze as the sun began to set, spilling into another forest surrounding the ruins of a castle. We didn’t dare go inside. Wolves howled there.

“Thank the Stone Gods for a bit of shade,” Gunnar declared, wiping sweat from his forehead. We were all drenched in it. My throat went hoarse hours ago, and my mouth couldn’t summon saliva anymore. I saw heat in waves—coming from the ground, rippling like ghosts, warning me that we grew too hot. We needed water. We needed rest. We needed to get out of this labyrinth.

As the sky darkened, Harald and I both looked to the star in the east.

His knowing gaze caught on mine. We didn’t speak of it, but we knew the path to follow. And we were getting closer. By my estimate, we were over halfway there.

It might take a week more, but we’d reach the center.

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