I can see a little farther. Not much, but enough to notice the difference. Enough to feel the space around us open, inch by inch.
The pressure in my chest eases, though the ache lingers, raw and sharp. The fog hovers above me, like it doesn’t want to let go. It drifts in low, dragging tendrils, resisting as we push forward.
But it’s losing.
With every crawl, every breath, it fades a little more. The gray breaks apart into wisps, then into patches, until it’s no longer something we’re trapped inside, but something we’re leaving behind.
Cool, clean air brushes my face. Real air. It tastes different. Alive. Dragging myself onto my knees, shaking, I take a real breath. A breath that doesn’t hurt.
I turn to Ashton. His long blond hair is plastered to his head, and he’s a shade or two paler than he usually is, but he’s in one piece, and that’s what really matters.
We stand, unsteady on our feet. The night is black as ever, but now the air is crisp and clean, and I can smell the hedge and the hint of flowers somewhere far away.
I look at Ashton, and he looks at me.
We laugh, then collapse back to the ground, exhausted and giddy. We survived another damn thing the maze threw at us. By luck, mostly, but we survived.
After a minute, Ashton rolls to his side, propping his head on his hand. “That was fun. Let’s never do it again.”
I grin, then let the silence stretch.
He asks, “You ever have to crawl through mud like that, back home?”
I think about it, then shake my head. “Closest I ever got was when a pig got loose and I had to wrestle it out of a ditch. I lost.”
He raises his eyebrows. “I’d pay to see that.”
“And it’d be worth every penny.”
Dragging in ragged breaths, I stare at the sky and wonder if the three kings are staring at the same sky. “The others…”
His expression grows more somber. “They’re okay.”
“How can you be sure?”
He seems to consider the answer for a minute. “They’re tough. They’re warriors. They’ll manage until we find them again.”
I hope so. I think of Sylvian first, because it’s impossible not to. The way he steadies everything around him without even trying, like the world can’t tilt too far when he’s near. The quiet way he checks on me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to make sure I’m alright. I can almost feel his hand brushing mine, grounding, warm and sure. The thought of him out here somewhere, hurt or alone, makes something in my chest tighten.
Then Cassius. Cold and controlled and always thinking ten steps ahead, even when the rest of us are barely managing one. He’d know what to do. He always does. But I think about the way his voice drops when he’s close to me, the rare moments where something softer slips through the cracks of all that control. I wonder if he’s as steady now as he pretends to be. Or if, somewhere out there, he’s just as worried as I am.
And Oberon… I let out a slow breath. All fire and anger and sharp edges, but there’s something else under it. Something I’ve only caught glimpses of, but it’s quiet, protective, real. The way he looks at me sometimes, like he’s already decided something he hasn’t said out loud yet. I can’t imagine him sitting still, not with us separated like this. He’d be tearing the labyrinth apart to find me.
The thought should make me feel safer.
Instead, it makes me miss them more.
We lay there, catching our breath, until enough time has passed that we know we need to keep going. Ashton stands, offers me his hand, and pulls me to my feet. My body is pressed against his, so much smaller than his, and yet, it’s like we fit perfectly together.
He looks down at me. “You know, even though we’re fighting for our lives, I’m not having theworsttime.”
I laugh. “You’re crazy.”
Leaning down, he kisses me again, slow and deliberate. “Maybe a little, but who can blame me with you near?”
I’m smiling, shaking my head. “You are just way too smooth, Ashton, you know that?”
“Really?” His grin widens. “I don’t feel smooth at all when I’m with you. I feel like a boy again, trying to pull a girl’s pigtails just to get her to notice me.”
