Page 109 of Aïdes the Unseen
We’d left the hearth room what had to be fifteen minutes ago, followed the eastern corridor, and then the hall split—twice. One of the turns led up a flight of stairs that should not exist in apenthouse.
I slowed, casting a look back at Graven. “Didn’t we start at the top of a building?”
He only raised an eyebrow.
“No, seriously,” I said. “Penthouse. Top floor. How is this—” I gestured ahead of us, where the hallway bent sharply again, opening into another narrow chamber lined with stone columns and moss-covered walls “—still going?”
He didn’t answer.
I pressed a hand to the wall. Cool stone. Real. Rough beneath my palm. But it wasn’turban. This wasn’t reinforced concrete or polished marble.
It felt likesomewhere olderwas wearing this place like a skin.
I looked down at myself, barked a short laugh. “Crap, I’m barefoot.”
“So am I,” Graven said.
“You at least have pants. I’m in a robe that barely qualifies as public.”
“I like the robe,” he said, totally unrepentant.
I laughed again. It came out high-pitched, sharp. A little too much breath.
“Okay, so—just to recap,” I said, because if I didn’t talk, I’d start screaming. “We’re barefoot, underdressed, wandering through an endless nightmare maze. You’re the Lord of theDead, the dog is possibly the only one of us with a sense of direction, and I’m following a sound I don’t understand toward a memory I don’t possess. Fantastic.”
Graven gave a low murmur in acknowledgment, but I was spiraling now, and Iletmyself.
“Of course it’s a labyrinth,” I muttered. “Why wouldn’t it be? All mythic paths lead back to some tragic metaphorical hellscape. I mean, the Minotaur was in a labyrinth, right? That’s real. That’s Greek. That’s ancient. Ariadne and Theseus and the string. Or was I Ariadne? Or the Minotaur? Did Ibuildthe labyrinth? Gods, how many liveswere there?”
I stopped walking.
The dog circled back, nosing my knee again, impatient.
“Do I seriously have to dig through every life I’ve ever lived to find the keys? That’s— that’s not a journey, that’s a billion-piece jigsaw puzzle without a picture on the box. That’s a memory scavenger hunt acrosseternity, and no one even left me a damnedmap!”
My voice cracked. I didn’t mean to shout. But suddenly it all hit me—the weight of it, the absurdity. Thecruelty.
“I didn’taskfor this,” I whispered. “I didn’t ask to be reborn. Or bound. Or buried inside myself. Now I’m supposed to what? Just guess my way through centuries of echoes and hope I find the right door?”
Graven stepped beside me, silent for a long moment. Then he said, gently, “Yes.”
I turned toward him, breath caught in my throat.
“But I’ll be with you,” he added. “Every step. Every key. Every lifetime if I have to. It’ll take as long as it takes. There’s no clock on this.”
I looked at him then. Reallylooked.
Barefoot with his hair still slightly mussed from sleep. Wearing jeans and a T-shirt that said something in a language Ididn’t recognize. Not the Hades of myth. Not the cold architect of Thanatek. Just—Graven.
Steady.
Present.
Mine.
In that moment, something inside me twisted. Not in fear. Ingrief.
Because for all his poise, all his power, all his calm?—
