XVIII
Bristle was the first to demand they continue walking.
The beast had awoken from its slumber and decided that running around and disappearing, only to reappear several moments later, was all too fun of an activity.
It was just like the creature had been back with Taleon not long ago when they journeyed to his chamber.
Corin swallowed around the lump in his throat at the memory.
The group walked in silence for a long time after that, like they needed time to move and be productive to distract from the emotions coursing through them. The only distinct sound was the tapping of Bristle’s limbs on the cool stone beneath them.
Watching the beast was a decent distraction while wandering the halls, seeming to speed up the time it took for them to journey. He wouldn’t say it brought back fond memories of the time with Taleon, but it did leave a small smile on his lips as he watched the beast with curiosity.
He wondered how long the creature had been here—what it even was—and what it did on a daily basis. Corin had hoped that maybe Bristle was with Taleon still, though there had been no sighting of his kin’s psyche since the chamber collapse, only the body he had abandoned.
Corin wasn’t entirely sure if he really wanted to see the psyche of Taleon, but at least then he would get to see the cooky being. Maybe ask him for more details on the trial, on the Labyrinth. If he knew anything else.
He shook his head. All Taleon would do was give him more confusing words. At least Ariadne was a bit more clear in her answers now.
Corin wasn’t sure what to think about the entire experience. He thought going through the trials was some big right of passage that he had to pass in order to be worthy of being king. But the more he was navigating the halls of the maze, the less he believed that.
Why was sacrificing something to the Labyrinth the key to ruling Knossos? If the Labyrinth was truly such a worthy judge, why did it need to imprison Ariadne?
It seemed like this was only convenient. Or traditional. And neither of those were valid reasons for being.
After a while, he grew bored of silence. He attempted to start many conversations, hoping for any bit of distraction other than Bristle’s interesting travel patterns, but nothing seemed to stick for too long.
He asked about her life inside the Labyrinth, which he realized she was dreadfully bored of.
She navigated the halls much of the time, though that had gotten tiring after the first many years.
She weaved thread that found its way inside the halls.
She found little trinkets to occupy her time. None of it was particularly thrilling.
He asked her about her family, which was a hard stop in conversation as talking about any person from her past seemed to be.
The only conversation that seemed to have any tooth to it was when he asked about her desires if she were to ever leave the maze.
“What do you mean?” she questioned as they moved swiftly.
“If you were to get out of here,” he posed, “what would you do? Where would you go?”
Ariadne thought for a while, so long that Corin wondered if she was again stifling the conversation. Finally, she released a deep sigh. “It is useless to think of such things.”
Corin frowned. “I don’t believe it is.”
“I do not—”
“Please,” he begged. “Just tell me. It’s not useless to me.”
She caught his gaze then, and he could have sworn she was trying to push some message directly into him, as if words alone were too simple to explain her feelings. “I do not know if I would leave.”
Corin’s heart fractured then. He could feel the steady beat splinter off. He knew that she felt a duty to the maze, to being here and supporting her family, but he had hoped that she would have dreamed of something else. Of something outside the stone walls.
But no. She had resigned herself to stay. She had no hopes, no dreams. Just the reality of the stone surrounding her.
“I suppose there is so much new in Knossos that I would have much to explore,” she mused.
Corin blinked once. Twice. He stumbled forward and only barely caught himself before tripping over Bristle. Did she…
His heart rate increased then, nearly bursting in excitement. She would stay. She would stay in Knossos, stay close to him.
“Oh,” he said, barely hiding his joy. “I suppose you’re right.”
She eyed him curiously, a small twinge of her lips hidden in the darkness of the halls. They didn’t speak again for a bit.
But a smile graced his lips for a long while after that.
As the three navigated the halls, the corridors narrowed and widened without warning, much more often than it had previously. The stone underfoot changed texture frequently like the Labyrinth was growing tired of pretending to be whole and stable.
Bristle and Ariadne seemed to handle the corridor with little problem, but Corin could not say the same for himself.
He tripped a few times as the stone transformed from smooth and worn to jagged and raw.
And as his steps continued to grow uneven, he wondered if this meant they were venturing deeper into the maze or closer to his exit.
He could feel her eyes on him many times, but every time he looked at her, she was conveniently looking at the stone around them, analyzing the veins in the walls, doing anything other than observing him.
He wished she would lay her eyes on him and never let go. He wished for her feelings to be as distracting for her as they were for him.
All he wanted to do was protect her, be with her, yet he knew that at the end of this, he would have to leave her. That thought alone pierced his heart more than any injury could.
“Where are we going?” he asked at last, breaking the steady rhythm of their footsteps.
Ariadne didn’t slow. “We will know it when we see it.”
Corin frowned. “That isn’t an answer.” He was growing tired of that response.
She glanced back at him, the barest hint of amusement touching her eyes. “It is the only honest one I have for you.”
“Do you know where we are, at least?”
“I think so.”
That didn’t help his nerves.
The dark pressed in closer, the golden veins long gone, leaving only the faintest ambient glow in their wake.
It was just enough to keep him from walking straight into the walls, but Ariadne was navigating them quite well.
She moved as if she could see through the darkness, as if there was no reason for light to grace the pair at all.
Time stretched strangely again. He couldn’t tell how long they had been moving since the mist and admissions, but his legs were starting to ache fiercely. The ambrosia had truly started to drain out of him, and he missed it dearly.
Eventually, Ariadne came to a stop, and Corin followed. Bristle nearly ran into his legs, stumbling slightly to the side to avoid a blow. The creature moved around the pair, sniffing the ground slightly before collapsing once again and nibbling on the same leg as earlier.
A low rise of stone jutted from the wall, and they stood there, side by side with their shoulders almost touching—only a small gap remained between them, and Corin’s body yearned to close it for a reason he couldn’t dive too deep into.
Corin rolled his neck to distract from the need coursing through him. “Why did we stop?”
“The Labyrinth is not ready for us yet,” she answered. “We shall take a break instead.”
“A break?”
Ariadne bobbed her head before sliding down to sit against the wall, stopping just beside Bristle. She reached out to settle a hand on the beast, who preened under the touch. “It is needed. You are growing tired.”
Corin blinked. “Well, yeah, I am, but I thought we could keep going.”
“Sit,” she advised, and he followed suit, albeit reluctantly. “The ambrosia has worn off for you. You should save some of your strength.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I just know, heir.”
Ariadne saw so much that he couldn’t, understood things that only set out to confuse him.
If only she saw him like she saw the Labyrinth, he thought as he watched her stroke her fingernails down Bristle’s spine.
The monster grumbled in contentment before shooting up, spinning in place a few times, and diving head first into the stone, disappearing entirely.
Corin blinked a few times as he waited for the monster to come back. A few moments passed with no sign of it. “Where did it go?”
Ariadne shrugged with a small frown on her face. “It likes to travel.”
“Is it going to come back?”
“We can only wait and see.”
He didn’t like that answer, but he had grown accustomed to receiving vague answers at this point.
Still, he shook his head, trying to keep away the confusion bursting through him. He cleared his throat. “You said killing your brother wasn’t how everyone gets out,” he stated after a few silent moments. “So, what do they do instead?”
Ariadne was quiet for a beat, as if sorting through centuries of memory, which he supposed she was.
“They bargain,” she answered finally. “They endure. They break.” She tilted her head slightly. “Some try to outwit it—mapping paths, counting turns, tracking echoes.”
“Like I did when I tried to leave your chamber,” he cut in.
She grinned—a smile larger than he had seen from her before, and it lit up the entire hall in mere moments. “Yes, like you tried to do.”
She shook her head as the smile faded, and Corin wished he could see it once more, for only a second if that was all he was allotted. He just wanted to see the beauty in her smile again, to take advantage of it as he could now be prepared to take it in.
“Others offer things they think the Labyrinth wants. Blood. Vows. Names,” she went on, her mouth tightening as she did. “That does not always end well.”
Corin hesitated. “Has anyone ever succeeded without losing something?”
She shrugged. “That is it. You have to sacrifice something to leave. Otherwise…” she shook her head. “Otherwise, you end up as the psyche you met.”
Taleon. Corin in no way wanted to end up like his long passed kin. The thought terrified him as it sank into his bones.