“Your world has limited women, does it not? Particularly fertile ones. And every year Kasaros summons new brides to this world, fertile brides. What if that is tipping the balance? What if it’s having an effect on the Labyrinth itself?”
“Perhaps.” Bael’s fingers cup the delicate flower, his voice soft with longing. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a rose.”
I trace my fingers over the sigil, then realize the stone it’s etched on gives beneath my touch. “Wait. There’s a…” I press the sigil and the stone depresses with a click.
Stones groan, an entire section of the wall peeling open. Behind it, darkness stretches. A tunnel.
“Maybe we could?—”
A hand slaps over my mouth, strong arms hauling me back into the shadows of the alcove. The thick curtain of brambles falls back over us, plunging us into darkness. I twist and kick, but surprisingly soft lips brush against my ear. “Don’t make a sound,” Bael breathes, sliding his hand over mine, and encouraging me to sheathe the glowing knife.
It plunges us into darkness.
Eight shadows slip out of the Labyrinth’s depths, moving silently. All of them tower over us, including Bael. I didn’t think it was possible.
“They came this way,” grunts one of them. “They’re caught in the loop.”
Loop?
“Spread out,” says the apparent leader, gesturing two fingers to the exits leading out of the courtyard. “Two along each path. The remaining two can stay here and wait for them. We’ll flush them out.”
“Remember,” says another, “he’s worth more dead than alive. And he’s weak now. We finally have a chance at him.”
“And the woman?”
“Whoever gets their hands on her first gets first rights,” says the leader coldly.
I’m growing so tired of hearing that.
The strangers vanish into the three openings of the maze.
“A lot of people seem to want you dead,” I breathe into Bael’s ear.
His breath skates across my cheek. “I’m popular.”
“What do we do?”
Bael glances through the veil of roses. “We have only one option.”
Enter the unknown darkness.
“Gentlemen first,” I whisper.
He blinks at me. “I was going with ‘kill them all.’”
Something whips around my ankle, tightening.
A sudden force jerks my foot from beneath me and I slam into the ground, before I’m hauled into the open with a scream.
“Got her!” bellows one of the newcomers.
“Huntress!” Bael roars, launching after me.
He’s met by another of the men, but I don’t have time to watch. Instead, an enormous hand closes over my throat and hauls me, kicking and screaming, into the air.
These aren’t Rhykus’s men.
They wear matching red cloaks with the hoods drawn, and kohl darkening their eyes in a band two inches wide that runs across their entire faces.
