The fire crackled, and I stared into the flames, trying to imagine what waited for us beyond these walls. The silence stretched until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Do you think he’s safe?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Aster didn’t look up, but his hand found mine, squeezing it.
“He’s Atlas, our King,” he said, giving me a smile that didn’t mask the worry. “He’s still alive. I can feel it.”
And for the first time since crossing the Rift, I realized I could feel it too. That connection we had was like a strange tugging sensation inside that pulled me toward him. As if our souls were connected somehow. If he was dead, surely that tug would no longer exist? I had to hold onto that hope. I just had to.
Stava leaned back against the stone, her eyes half-closed.
“You should both get some rest,” she said. “You’ll need it for what’s coming.”
Aster didn’t answer right away. He sat beside me, elbows on his knees, staring into the fire as if it were speaking to him. I could tell by the set of his jaw that his mind was already elsewhere.
When Stava finally drifted off to check on the rest of her herd, I glanced sideways at him.
“You’re worried?”
He didn’t look up.
“Yes, but only because I know what we need if we are to reach him in time.”
“And let me guess, it’s about as easy as traveling through a Labyrinth that wants to kill you?”
He gave me a wry grin before admitting, “Maybe.”
“What do we need?” I asked, knowing there would be a catch here.
“Not what, but who.”
I cocked my head and asked, “Who?”
He released a sigh that spoke volumes and answered…
“The Way Weaver.”
“The Way Weaver?” I questioned.
“She’s one of the herd. She can help us.”
“I thought it was Aunt Stava who could help us?” I asked with confusion.
“If Aunt Stava was…” Aster hesitated, pushing past the painful thought before continuing, “Dead, then the herd would have no choice but to appoint a new leader. Usually, it would be someone from our bloodline, though I am the only one remaining. As I was on the other side of the Rift, I wouldn’t have been able to accept the title, and so that would mean a new bloodline would take over. Every single member of the herd would vote.”
“Vote?” I asked.
“On the appointment of a new leader, anybody already in the herd would either accept this or leave. Anyone who decided not to vote would be seen as a threat and executed.”
I pulled a face and muttered,“Jesus, that’s a bit extreme.”
He shrugged unapologetically in response.
“What does that mean for you?” I asked, moving swiftly on from ‘threat and executed’.
“I would be executed, because I did not vote.”
I nearly choked. “But, you… you…” I could feel my eyebrows knotting together as I tried to comprehend what he was saying. “You were a bit busy helping the King in my world.”
