Page 66 of Quarter Labyrinth

I kept quiet as I moved, not east, but west. Back toward Clark. If I had any chance of winning, it would be at his side.

Reignited with my goal of acquiring the Silver Wings, I slipped through the labyrinth. I pictured myself as Dawson as he won the first labyrinth. With any luck, some of his good fortune passed through the line.

It was as if I could bend the will of the labyrinth to me.

But labyrinths do not bend.

This labyrinth was alive—or so it seemed. Its walls shifted when I wasn’t looking, the pathways I thoughtI had memorized rearranging themselves into new patterns. Strange sounds echoed through the corridors at night—whispers I couldn’t understand, the scrape of something heavy dragging across stone, and sometimes, distant footsteps that didn’t belong to me.

I pressed onward. When I wasn’t drenched in sweat from the sun, I was aching with hunger. But comfort and food were luxuries I’d left behind.

“When I’m captain of the Silver Wings, the first thing I’m going to do is eat a full meal,” I whispered to myself, if only to hear the familiar sound of my voice. When the labyrinth made noise, it unnerved me. When it was silent, it unnerved me more.

Night fell swiftly but I dared not stop for rest. Not until I had Clark at my side again.

The labyrinth was a paradox—suffocatingly narrow in one moment, with walls pressing close enough to scrape my shoulders, and impossibly vast in the next, opening into chambers with ceilings so high they vanished into shadow. I spent most of the night looking behind me for anyone who might be following and debating if calling out for Clark would get me killed.

When morning came, I discovered the first trap.

It was subtle, hidden beneath a thin layer of dust on the floor. I had been moving cautiously through a garden of rose bushes when my boot pressed down on an innocuous-looking stone. I heard the faint click.

The world erupted into motion. Massive spikes shot out from the walls, grinding together with a force that sent a gust of wind rushing past. I threw myself backward just in time. The spikes missed by mere inches.

I lay upon smooth pavers, trembling, my breaths shallow. “You want to kill me, don’t you?”

The labyrinth didn’t answer, but I felt its malice in the shifting stones beneath my fingers.

The whispers began next. They drifted by as often as the labyrinth wolves howled, a constant noise in my ear that picked at my courage. These sounds weren’t human. Somethingotherwhispered in the dark. And I had the suspicion that it whispered of me.

It wasn’t until night began to fall that I heard a new sound. Gunnar singing.

I could have cried with joy if my body had fluid to spare.

The star in the east lit the path of uneven stones as I wound through the twists of a hedge maze to find the group.

Harald and Tove kept to the back, both with weapons drawn. Harald was shushing Gunnar but that boy’s lively spirit would never be dampened. Gunnar strolled along ahead of them, one arm gnarly with burns, the other swinging a small axe in circles that matched the rhythm of his song. His chocolate hair was almost black in the night.

Astrid’s hair shone like starlight, and she frowned at Gunnar’s song in a way that hinted how she secretly enjoyed it. Surprisingly, Aiden was at her side. They must have tucked away their grievances.

AndClark. He led the group, sleeves of his white tunic rolled past his elbows, strong hand gripping his sword, and his steps sure. He set the pace for them, a strong one filled with purpose. I mapped the shape of him quickly. No burns as far as I couldsee. Black charred marks stretched across the bottom of his tunic, and his boots were worn, but he was alive.

More than alive. The cuts of him were new, the way he carried himself unlike the boy from the island. He’d left the old Clark behind like he were a skin to outgrow.

I’d watched him for too long, they were almost getting away.

“Can I tag along?” I asked.

They whirled around at my voice.

“Ren, you made it!” Harald cheered. Tove’s face lit up beside him.

“You’re alive!” Gunnar added.

Clark broke through them all to stride toward me, dropping his weapons on the soft earth, and wrapping his arms around my body.

I buried my face into his frame.

“I thought I’d lost you to the fire,” Clark whispered.

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