Chapter 11 #3
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 the worst time.”
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.”
“I notice you,” slips out.
“Yeah?”
He kisses me again, and I feel hot and strange all at the same time.
So, I pull back, breathing hard. “We should probably keep going, right?”
He sighs and releases me. “Damn your logic.” But he’s still smiling.
Continuing walking, we hold hands like a couple out for a midnight stroll. I have no idea where we’re going, I have no idea what we’re going to do, but I know we need to keep going. To find the others. If that’s even possible.
The hedge gets thinner, the path widens, and that smell of flowers grows stronger, mixed with a strange smokiness. Which, I hope, doesn’t mean more trouble. As we start round a corner, there’s a sudden glow ahead that’s orange, flickering, alive.
We slow, cautious. What now?
I give Ashton a look.
He puts his hand on his sword, and I do the same. We round the corner, and there it is, a fire, a real fire, blazing in the middle of a clearing. And around it… three figures.
I know it’s them before I see their faces.
Oberon is the first to stand. He’s filthy, bruised, and stiff. “Alette?”
Sylvian doesn’t waste time with words. He rushes over and picks me up in a bear hug, spinning me once, twice, then setting me down so hard my teeth clack together. “You’re alive,” he says, voice breaking on the second word. “You’re really—”
I blush. “Yeah. We’re back.”
Cassius stands from the fire, walks over, and gives me a gentle hug that lasts a few seconds longer than I would’ve imagined. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Oberon comes over, takes my hand, and just stares at me. “Did he take care of you?”
“He did.”
He touches my face, pushing the hair back behind my ear. “I’m glad.
Sylvian pulls Ashton into a rough, one-armed hug, pounding his back so hard I worry he’ll break something. Cassius shakes his hand, and Oberon says, “Thanks for not getting her killed.”
The five of us stand there, breathing, blinking, getting used to the idea of being together again.
Sylvian pulls me in for another hug, this one gentler. He smells like moss and woodsmoke and something manly. He looks at my face, then my arms, then my hands. “Did he let you get hurt at all?” he asks, glancing at Ashton.
I shake my head. “He saved my life.”
Sylvian looks at Ashton, and for a second there’s a flash of something that could be a warning, a thank you, a challenge. I can’t tell.
“Well, I had to take care of my wife,” Ashton says, giving a crooked grin.
“Wife?” Oberon repeats with an edge of anger.
Cassius and Sylvian just glance from him to me, like they think Ashton’s words are a joke, and I feel my cheeks heat. Ashton, seemingly knowing what they’re thinking, takes my hand in his and lifts them both up to show our wedding rings.
Oberon’s mouth pulls into a thin line. “You want to fucking explain a little better?”
“It’s a long story,” I say, too exhausted for a fight. “Maybe a story for another time.”
Oberon breaks the tension by tossing a stick into the fire, then using his powers to turn the small fire into a blaze. “Sit down. Eat something. You both look like hell.”
I do as he says. Ashton collapses next to me. Sylvian sits on my other side, so close our knees touch.
Cassius waits a moment, then hands me a chunk of bread. “Are you hungry?”
I grin. “Definitely.”
He grins back, and it’s a nice smile. A rare smile.
While I eat, Sylvian says, “It sounds like you have some stories for us?”
“Oh yeah,” Ashton answers. “And I bet you have some of your own?”
“Definitely,” Sylvian responds.
“Fucking maze,” Oberon mutters.
I smile. “We can share them later. Maybe after we’ve all gotten some rest.”
They agree.
For a while, we just sit, listening to the crackle of the fire. Ashton leans against my shoulder, half asleep. Sylvian looks like he’s trying to spot the stars. Oberon pokes at the flames, saying nothing.
It’s almost peaceful.
I look around at them, at the firelight catching in their hair and on their scars. I wonder if this is what the goddess wants… five broken things, holding each other up just long enough to make it to the end.
The truth is, I’ll never know. Unless we make it out of here. But for now, I just watch the flames and let the warmth seep into my bones.