“These are Orbs of Vaelith,” my mother declares. “They will follow each of you, recording every step you take within the Labyrinth. While we will not be able to see the illusions shown to you, we will see all your triumphs and your failings.”
My mother’s gaze falls to me. “This trial shall not test the champions alone. Princess Serenya, future Queen of Syltheriel, shall also enter the Labyrinth. For it is not enough that a queen be born of lineage. She must prove herself worthy to lead, in the eyes of her people and the gods.”
Koen's head snaps toward me. His golden eyes widen, stark and unguarded. Fear. Real, raw fear. For me. His jaw locks. He looks as if he might step forward and protest, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Instead, he holds my gaze, his expression carved from worry and disbelief.
My throat burns. I hadn’t told him. I couldn’t. But gods, the way he is looking at me now threatens to break me.
The pixies drift forward, small wings shimmering. They hover before us, light bending into rings that open one by one. The Labyrinth waits on the other side, vast and merciless.
Asbel and Lioran steel themselves before stepping forward.
I look only at Koen.
His stare doesn’t break, not even as the light grows around us. His jaw is still tight, but in his eyes, there’s something more than fear now. Something fierce.
My lips part, but no words come. Instead, I give him thesmallest nod. He dips his chin in return, the barest movement, but enough to steady me.
I breathe once, deeply, and step through the portal.
The Labyrinth isn’t what I was expecting.
I’m standing among ruins, but not like Gravenholme’s scattered remains. This is one massive ruin, a shattered skeleton of what must have once been a grand stronghold. Damp stone walls rise around me, their surfaces slick with moss. Vines curl around broken pillars, and ancient trees, their trunks wider than a man’s reach, push up through the crumbling floor. Above, branches twist together into a tangled canopy, fractured only in places where sunlight spears through in narrow beams.
I scan the space. It’s enclosed on all sides, save for a single narrow staircase rising ahead.
With no choice but forward, I draw a steadying breath and start up the cracked steps. The Orb of Vaelith drifts near my shoulder, glowing faintly like a lantern in the dark. My footsteps echo against the stone, every sound magnified in the heavy silence.
At the top, I hear it.
His voice. Calling my name.
The sound hits me like a blow to the stomach, knocking the air from my lungs. I know it isn’t real. I know it’s only the Labyrinth playing its tricks. And yet, I can’t stop myself from searching for him. For Kallan.
The path narrows, a long corridor closed in by broken walls. Towering trees crowd close on either side, blocking my view of what lies beyond. Their roots crawl through cracks in the stone like veins.
Then…I hear his laugh—light, warm, and achingly familiar.
“You’re ruthless this morning.”
My steps falter, and my shadows form a dagger in my hand. I squeeze it hard until my knuckles begin to hurt.
Breathe. Just breathe. It’s not real.
I hear his voice again, lower, gentler, and cutting deeper than any blade.
“I love you. More than I know how to say.”
I turn a corner and freeze.
“No.” The word rasps from me, barely audible.
He stands before me exactly as I remember, with his messy blond hair that would never lieflat, storm-gray eyes lit with mischief, that infuriating grin showing off the single dimple on his left cheek.
He takes a step toward me. I stumble back.
He halts, tilting his head as though confused. “What’s wrong, love?” A pause. Then he looks at me with eyes full of hurt and betrayal. “You—you replaced me. How could you, Renya? Was my love not good enough?”
My heart slams against my ribs, tears threatening to spill. I shut my eyes tight, repeating the truth to myself like a prayer.
