Chapter 5
Alette
The cave feels like it’s closing in on us as we move, the air thick and suffocating, every small sound stretched too far in the silence. The scrape of a boot, the brush of fabric, the uneven rhythm of our breathing. It all feels too loud.
The smell of damp stone and blood clings to everything. It coats the back of my throat, makes every breath feel heavier than it should. I try to keep it quiet, shallow, controlled, but fear keeps creeping in, tightening my chest, making it harder.
We slip into the main cavern, and I nearly falter.
The space stretches wide and open, the shadows pooling in the corners, the stone floor still marked by what they did to my men. My eyes catch on the shape of it before I can stop them. The basin. The grooves carved into the ground. The place where they had them strapped down as sacrifices.
My gaze flicks to the kings, to the men moving beside me, and something tightens in my chest. They were there. They were the ones on that stone. And for one horrible second, I imagined it ending differently.
A shiver tears through me, sharp and uncontrollable. No. They escaped. They’re okay. I shove the thought away, but it lingers, curling low in my stomach.
But we keep moving.
Sylvian leads us, silent and focused, like he can feel the safest path through the dark. Ashton stays close behind him, quieter than I’ve ever seen him, all that usual ease stripped away. Oberon is behind me, and I can feel him there without looking. Solid. Watching everything.
Cassius…
I glance back.
He’s still moving, but barely. Each step looks like it costs him something.
His hand is pressed tight to his side, his face pale even in the low light, his breathing uneven.
He shouldn’t be walking. He shouldn’t be here.
But, he’ll have time to rest, when we’re somewhere safer. Somewhere the cyclops can’t find us.
The tunnel on the far side of the cavern comes into view, narrow and uneven. Relief stirs briefly, delicate and uncertain, but I refuse to trust it. Not yet. Not until we’re out.
“Keep going,” Oberon says quietly behind me, calm certainty threading through his voice and grounding me just a little.
We slip into the tunnel, one after the other, moving quickly but carefully.
It’s wide enough that we don’t have to crouch, but that almost makes it worse.
The space stretches ahead of us, open and exposed, with nowhere to hide if something comes barreling through in front of us.
Every step echoes faintly off the stone, the sound carrying farther than I’d like.
The air shifts as we move higher, warmer, but still heavy with the lingering scent of damp rock and something older. I keep moving anyway. Forward. Always forward.
The ground shifts beneath my hands, uneven and cold, and the darkness lined by torches stretches ahead of us, endless and uncertain. My muscles burn, my breath coming faster no matter how hard I try to control it, but I don’t stop.
I can’t. None of us can. We have to escape. No matter how exhausted we are.
Then, slowly, the air changes. It’s faint at first. Just a hint of something different. Cleaner. Cooler. I pull in a breath, deeper this time, and it strikes me all at once. Fresh air. We’re close.
Hope rises again, stronger now, but fear twists through it, making it dangerous to believe in.
We spill out into the night, one after the other, and the air strikes my face like something alive. Cold. Fresh. Real. I drag in a breath so deep it almost hurts, my lungs stinging as they fill, chasing away the stale heaviness of the cave.
I want to stop. To stand there and breathe and let it all sink in. But I don’t.
Because we’re not safe.
The labyrinth stretches out around us, the hedges towering and monstrous, their shapes warped by moonlight into something almost alive. Shadows twist between them, shifting with the wind, making it impossible to tell what’s real and what isn’t.
We’re exposed here.
A roar splits the night, loud and guttural, echoing from somewhere to our right.
It vibrates through the ground, through my chest, through every part of me, freezing me in place for half a second too long.
Turning, I spot a cyclops in the distance, in the direction of the field of flowers we’d passed out in.
They know. Cold fear wraps around my ribs, squeezing tight.
“Run!” Oberon says, low and sharp behind me.
And this time, there’s no hesitation.
We bolt, our footsteps pounding against the earth as we dart through the hedges, the sound of our flight swallowed by the thunder of something far heavier crashing after us. The ground trembles with each of their steps, and when I risk a glance back, my stomach drops.
There isn’t just one.
There are several now, barreling through the maze, ripping through branches, tearing through anything in their path, their massive forms forcing the labyrinth itself to bend around them. Their single eyes gleam in the dim light, locked onto us.
Cassius stumbles, his body swaying dangerously. Oberon doesn’t hesitate. He doubles back, grabbing Cassius and hauling his arm over his shoulder, dragging him forward with sheer force.
“You’ll have time to rest later!” Oberon growls, his voice leaving no room for argument.
“I’m slowing you down. You should–” Cassius mutters, his voice strained, barely audible over the chaos behind us.
“Not a chance,” Oberon snaps, not even looking at him. “We’re all getting out of here.”
His conviction stirs something fierce inside me, a hope too stubborn to let go.
“Keep going!” I shout, forcing my gaze forward.
Branches whip against my arms as we push through another stretch of hedge, the maze blurring around us. My lungs burn. My legs scream. But the sound behind us keeps growing. Louder. Closer.
One of the cyclopes crashes through an opening in the hedge to our left, close enough that I feel the rush of displaced air. I scream, instinct taking over as I lunge forward, but Oberon spins, shoving Cassius toward Sylvian.
“Go!” he barks.
Fire erupts from his hand, not the controlled flame he used before, but something wild and furious.
It roars outward in a sweeping arc, catching the cyclops full in the chest. The creature bellows, stumbling back as its skin blackens and splits, the smell of burning flesh thick and choking in the air.
It doesn’t fall right away. It takes another step forward, reaching as if to still grab us.
Oberon snarls and drives the fire harder, pushing until the creature collapses, crashing to the ground with enough force to shake the earth beneath us.
“Move!” he snaps again, already turning, already running.
We don’t wait.
We can’t.
Another roar answers the first, then another, the sound multiplying, echoing through the maze until it feels like it’s closing in on us from every direction.
“They’re everywhere,” Ashton breathes, but there’s no panic in his voice, just sharp focus as he glances over his shoulder.
“Then slow them down,” Sylvian says.
Ashton grins, quick and dangerous, even now. “Gladly.”
He throws his hand out behind him, and the air shifts violently.
Wind slams through the hedges in a sudden, brutal surge, ripping leaves from branches, tearing entire sections of greenery free.
The force of it slams the pursuing cyclopes head-on, driving them back, throwing one off its feet entirely.
It crashes into another, both of them going down in a tangle of limbs and fury.
“Go!” Ashton shouts, his voice strained now, the effort already catching up to him.
We run harder, but the reprieve doesn’t last. They’re back on their feet too quickly, roaring louder now, angrier, the sound chasing us through the maze like a living thing.
Sylvian slows just enough to turn, his hand slamming against the ground. The earth responds instantly. The soil beneath the cyclopes shifts, then rises, thick roots bursting upward, stone and dirt twisting together as the ground itself seems to come alive.
One of the cyclopes is caught mid-step as the earth wraps around its legs, locking it in place. Another is thrown off balance as the ground splits beneath it, swallowing one leg deep enough to trap it.
Sylvian’s breath hitches as he forces more power into it, his face tightening with the strain.
“Run,” he says, quieter now.
We don’t argue. We run.
But even as we gain distance, I can hear it. The cracking of stone. The tearing of roots. The cyclopes ripping themselves free.
There are too many of them.
Every time the kings use their magic, it slows them. Drains them. They’re too injured to be using their powers right now. I can see it now in the way Oberon’s steps grow heavier, in the way Ashton’s shoulders sag, in the way Sylvian’s breathing turns rough and uneven. Cassius is barely holding on.
And still, they keep going. Still, they refuse to stop.
The maze stretches endlessly in front of us, every turn leading us into the unknown, every path blending into the next until it feels like we’re running in circles. My chest aches with every breath, my legs threatening to give out beneath me, but I force myself forward.
Because stopping means dying. Because if they catch us… I don’t let myself finish that thought.
Just when it feels like we might be gaining some distance, like maybe, somehow, we can outrun them, we veer around a corner and skid to a halt.
A dead end.
“No,” I whisper, the word breaking apart as panic claws up my throat. “No, no, no.” The hedge looms in front of us, thick and towering, its branches woven so tightly it looks solid. The maze closes in, suffocating, trapping us in a space that suddenly feels far too small.
“Damn it!” Ashton snaps, slamming his fist into the hedge. The impact shudders through the branches, leaves raining down, but nothing gives. “What now?”
The ground trembles beneath us, heavier now, closer. The cyclopes are coming.