“We survive,” the others said, nodding their heads reluctantly.
“And when the last trial is unwon, and we’re free to walk out of this fucking place, we’ll figure it out. We’ll find out the truth. We won’t stop until we find it,” Mimi said, her voice shaking, her eyes full of unshed tears.
It hurt to see her like that. I knew she was suffering. We all were.
“Yes, we will.” Anika raised her glass half filled with juice. “As soon as we’re out there, we’ll find out the truth.”
The others raised their glasses, too.
So did March. So did I.
“To freedom,” Seth said, and we drank our freshly squeezed juices together.
It was the last toast we ever made.
The Timekeeperwho taught us about timekeeping and clockmaking did not smile. I found it oddly comforting.
We were in the same classroom where Miss Ren had talked to us about courts, and Lefa James had a notebook in her hands she read from, and she didn’t once look up at us when she began. She recited the lessons she’d written on her notebook, and she didn’t care much about questions or anything else—only breathing, and reading.
Asha thought it a good use of our time to run laps all around the arena for a whole hour, then climb up and down ropes with our hands covered in chalk for another. She hardly even looked at us—she knew we were way past these things. We’d already gone through much harder training, albeit only for days at a time.
It’s the program,she said, and that was that.
When we were excused, Elida was gone, not in her usual spot by the door to wait for us, and we were all relieved about it. Looking at her face made me think about Calren, and thinking about Calren never failed to give me a headache because I was constantly trying to make sense out of his words and couldn’t.
The others were right. We were bound to get out of here eventually. Only one trial left to unwin and then the Labyrinth would have no reason to keep us locked in here anymore. We’d find out the truth. For all we knew, the memories would return to us all on their own once whatever magic had hold of us let go.
Choosing to believe that gave me hope—andfilled me with anxiety at the same time, becausewhat if?
Hours later, sleeping was out of the question.
I waited, sitting in the middle of my bed with my armswrapped around my legs, thinking aboutone somethingandtwo somethingsandall the somethingsI couldn’t really name.
My mind had become such a curious thing, and the voice inside my head wasn’t mine. It was male, and it was…different. Not like a person’s, and I couldn’t even figure it out. It kept speaking to me in riddles that I couldn’t even begin to understand as I waited and waited and?—
A knock on the door.
My heart jumped.
My very soul left my body, then slipped under my skin again. March was here.
I ran this time. I didn’t hesitate this time. I wasn’t going to make him sit down outside at all—I unlocked the door and pulled it open, and I prepared to jump in his arms while figuring out how to breathe at the same time, but…
It was Mimi.
She wore pajamas. It was early still. The sun had begun to unrise outside already, and the sky was getting darker, but I still had my tunic on. Hadn’t had the will to change and get comfortable.
Mimi had. She’d changed into her pajamas, but she most definitely didnotlook comfortable. In fact, her eyes were still full of tears as they had been during the day, and her hands were shaking, and her dark hair was loose and wild around her head.
“Mimi.” Her name could have been a question leaving my lips.
“Tell me the truth, Ora,” she said. “Did we…did we meet by the grandfather clock on the ground floor? There, at the junction. Did you see me there before?” She stepped over my threshold. “Tell me, Ora,was I there?”
“Time’s Teeth, Mimi, you?—”
The words were right there.
No—the wordsshould have beenright there. They should have existed inside me, should have sprung from my lips, because I knew what I was going to say, didn’t I? Itfeltlike I knew, like I should have known, like I should have spoken.
