“Come on, Oberon,” I whisper.
For one horrible second, there’s nothing. No movement. No sign of him. Just the sound of something tearing through the maze behind the hedge, getting closer.
Then the branches part just enough, and Oberon forces his way through, bursting out of the gap as the hedge snaps and whips violently behind him. He stumbles forward a step, then catches himself, already turning back toward the opening.
A massive shape slams into the other side.
The hedge bulges outward again, violently, a huge hand punching through just far enough to tear leaves free before the branches snap back into place, closing the gap completely.
The roar that follows is deafening, shaking the hedge walls around us with pure fury. Heavy footsteps slam against the earth behind us, branches rattling violently as the cyclopes crash toward the opening we barely escaped through. Then, suddenly, the sound cuts off. Completely. One second there’s rage and destruction pounding through the labyrinth, and the next there’s only silence. The hedge behind us seals shut, thick branches twisting together so tightly it’s like the passage never existed at all. My chest still feels tight as I stare at it, my pulse hammering. The cyclopes are gone. Sealed away behind the magic of the labyrinth. At least for now.
I take a shaky step back from the hedge, my legs unsteady, and the others gather in close without thinking, forming a loose, uneven circle. No one speaks. We just breathe. Harsh and uneven.
Then Ashton lets out a breath that turns into a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Well,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his hair, “that went terribly.”
A weak huff of laughter escapes me before I can stop it. It feels wrong. It feels too light for everything we just went through, but it bubbles up anyway, sharp and shaky.
“We’re alive,” Sylvian says, his voice quieter, steadier, though I can hear the exhaustion beneath it.
“Barely,” Cassius adds, his tone dry, even as he leans more of his weight into Sylvian to stay upright.
Oberon glances back at the hedge, jaw tight, still listening for pursuit. “Don’t get comfortable,” he says, but there’s something different in his voice now. Relief, buried deep.
“What I wouldn’t give for a warm bath, a big chunk of meat, and a glass of wine,” Ashton mutters.
That earns another faint laugh, this one from Sylvian, softer, like he didn’t expect it either.
For a moment, it almost feels normal. Like we’ve survived something together. Like maybe we can survive the next thing too.
I drag in a breath, deeper this time, trying to calm myself, trying to let that fragile sense of relief settle into my bones… and then the ground shifts beneath us.
It happens so suddenly I don’t even have time to react. The earth gives way with a sharp crack, the surface collapsing beneath our feet like it was never solid to begin with.
“Wait—” I gasp, reaching for something, anything… and then I’m falling.
The drop is abrupt and disorienting, the world ripping away as the air rushes past me. Darkness swallows everything, the brief glimpse of the others disappearing as we’re torn apart by the fall.
My stomach lurches violently, weightless and spinning, and then the ground slams into me hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. Pain explodes through my body, sharp and immediate, leaving me gasping, unable to pull in air.
I can’t move. Can’t think. All I can do is lie there, fighting for breath, my hands scraping against rough earth as reality crashes back in around me.
We’re not safe.
Not even close.
“Is everyone—” I try to say, but the words barely make it out before I suck in a sharp breath, my ribs protesting as I push myself up.
“Alette?”
Oberon is there first, just barely visible in the moonlight.
I don’t even see him move, but suddenly he’s in front of me, one hand gripping my arm, the other hovering like he doesn’tknow where he can touch without hurting me. His eyes move over me quickly, searching, checking for something worse than what he can see.
“Are you hurt?” he demands, his voice rough, too tight.
“I’m fine,” I manage, though it comes out breathless. Everything aches, my body screaming from the impact, but nothing feels broken. “Just… sore.”
“That’s not fine,” Ashton mutters, already crouching on my other side. His hands hover near my shoulders, then my arms, like he’s trying to assess without actually hurting me more. “You hit hard. Sorry, if I wasn’t so… spent, I could’ve used air to soften your fall.”