Page 108 of Aïdes the Unseen
The sound was jarring in the quiet—too normal. Too modern. After tugging my hand from Graven, I pulled the phone out and blinked down at the screen.
One word. A name.
“Mother.”
The contact image was a photo I didn’t remember taking: her in her garden, one gloved hand on her hip, mouth slightly open like she was about to tell me to stand up straighter.
I didn’t answer.
I just stared at it.
Why would she be callingnow?
Had she everreallycalled before? Or had I onlyrememberedher calling?
Was she really my mother? Or merely the mother of the human vessel I was now? Was she Demeter in a guise? I had no idea whoIwas. How did I identify this woman?
The phone vibrated once more. Then stopped.
I felt… off-balance.
Like someone had just switched which side of the mirror was real but forgotten to tell me which side I stood on.
The dog nosed my thigh, firm, pointed, insistent. His muzzle bumped the phone, and it slipped from my hand before I could react. Hit the floor with a muted thud.
“Hey—” I reached for it, but he growled softly.
Not at me. At thephone.
Oh.
“Right,” I whispered. “Not now.”
I turned back to Graven, who had watched all this with the wariness of a man waiting for a verdict.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to follow the sound with my ears,” I said. “It’s like—it’s in my blood. I can feel it. Like pressure. Like a wind that hasn’t arrived yet.” Not that I had any idea what the hell that wouldsoundlike and yet, I did know. Inexorably, Iknewexactly what music that wind would make.
He stepped closer. “You see something?”
“Yes.” The word came out like a confession. “Iseeit. It’s not a place I remember, but at the same time Iknowit. There’s this… silence. But it’s not empty. It’sfull. Like the air holds stories no one’s spoken aloud for centuries. It’s like an old ruin. Or a threshold. Maybe both.”
“What does it feel like?” he asked, voice low.
“Like walking into a cathedral made of ash,” I said. “Like tasting salt in a forest where no ocean should be.” I looked at him, pulse quickening. “I know that doesn’t make sense, but?—”
“It makes perfect sense,” he said gently. “That’s how memory speaks when it doesn’t have words.”
Whether he knew those words would help or not, they buoyed me. It was like being on the edge of madness, aware that I could tumble at any moment.
I turned toward the eastern corridor. The stone walls curved slightly there, shaped by design or time, I didn’t know which. The dog was already ahead of me, tail up, walking without hesitation.
I followed.
Behind us, Graven came, silent and steady, not just letting me lead…
…butfollowing me into the center of the labyrinth.
Shouldn’t we have hit a wall by now?
