Minutes pass. Maybe hours. The light never changes, so it’s impossible to keep track. Ashton sits in the dirt, making little sculptures out of sticks and rocks, humming to himself. I resist the urge to scream at him. Instead, I press my face to the hedge and shout, “Sylvian! Oberon! Cassius!”
No answer.
I try again, louder, until my voice is raw. Ashton stands and joins in, but it’s useless. The world is too quiet, too thick. If there’s anyone on the other side, they’re as lost as we are.
Eventually, Ashton sits back down, patting the ground beside him. “Might as well wait it out. The boys will figure it out. They always do.”
I want to believe him, but my heart is hammering too hard. “What if they don’t?”
He shrugs. “Then it’s just us, Little Human. Could be worse.”
He says it like a joke, but I catch the look in his eyes, he’s serious and maybe even a little worried.
I sit beside him and wrap my arms around my knees, staring at the blank sky. The crows are gone, replaced by an empty hush that makes me want to crawl out of my skin.This is wrong. All of it.
“Do you think we’re going the right way?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer right away. “Depends which way the right way is,” he says eventually.
We sit in silence, two pieces of something broken, waiting to be put back together or left behind.
I try not to think about the others, but it’s impossible. I imagine Sylvian, furious at being left. Oberon, punching his way through the hedge until his knuckles bleed. Cassius, quietly deducing where we could have gone, cold and alone. I wonder if they’re even on the same path anymore.
Maybe they’re not even trying to reach us.
Ashton offers me a crooked smile. “I know you hate us,” he says, picking up a stick and drawing shapes in the dirt. “But you’re not alone here. We’re here to keep you safe.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong, that “hate” isn’t the right word anymore, but the words don’t come. Instead, I close my eyes and try to breathe. Try to be present. Try to imagine a future where any of us make it out. The temptation to crawl into thedarkness of my mind and be back with my father, or back with the villagers, comes and goes as quickly as the temptation arose. Those memories, strangely, are not feeling as comforting as they once were.
Which is weird.Isn’t it?
There’s no time here, but after what feels like a few eternities, I realize I’m starving.
“Is it lunch time yet?”
“It can be,” he teases, grinning.
Ashton picks through the remains of his food, laying out the sad inventory on a flat stone. There’s half a handful of dried currants, a chunk of hard cheese, jerky that looks more like boot leather than anything edible. We’d had to gamble on bringing less stuff, to travel more easily, thinking we’d be able to hunt in the labyrinth, but we might have gambled and lost, given how quickly we’re running out of food.
Hopefully the others have more though.
When he offers the cheese, I take it without speaking, break it in half, and pop a piece into my mouth. It’s a little stale, but surprisingly flavorful. I chew and swallow and try not to picture myself as a slow-digesting corpse in the belly of the maze.
He pours a careful ration of his water, hands it to me, and I take a swig before handing it back. It’s a small gesture, but it makes me feel taken care of in a way I haven’t experienced since I was a young child.
After we eat, he wipes his mouth, and looks at me with that signature golden-lidded gaze. “Ever had chocolate?” he asks.
“Of course not.” It comes out sharper than I intended.
Chocolate is for the wealthy. Not people like me.
His smile turns conspiratorial. “Want to?”
He pulls out a twist of brown paper from some hidden pocket, unfolds it, and holds out a square. The surface is a glossyslab, but even the smell, which is rich, sweet, and almost warm, makes my mouth water.
I hesitate. “Why do you have chocolate?”
He grins wider, genuinely pleased with himself. “Bribery. In case the lady needed extra motivation to keep moving.” He breaks off a corner and hands it to me. “Go on.”
