“Mazeshave options and dead ends. Labyrinths don’t. That’s why monks use them for meditation,” he says, like the practices of monks are common knowledge. “It’s about the journey internally, not externally. If this is truly a labyrinth, then it’ll just spit us back out eventually.”
“So we just…keep going straight?” I ask.
“That’s what the monks do.”
“Well, if it’s good enough for the monks,” Yumi remarks, overseriously.
“So, technically, since it’s a single path, we’d be walking together anyway,” Morgan says cheerfully.
“I guess,” Matt concedes. And, honestly, I’m with him on the grumpiness this time. If anything, I don’t think he’s being grumpy enough. Yumi and I have always agreed that helping other players on any competition show is the worst possible choice. It functions better as catnip for viewers than as a useful in-game move. That being said, I’m more than happy to be on the receiving end of unwise generosity.
“You know a surprising amount about labyrinths,” I say, partly to keep conversation going and partly for navigation purposes.
“I did a report on them in eighth grade. Got very into it. My teacher was concerned.”
Is he voluntarily chatting with us? I wish I could shoot a surprised look at Yumi, but then her grip on my hand tightens and I know I don’t need to. I feel a rush of affection for the person who still knows me better than I know myself.
“What was so concerning about your labyrinth report?”
“I may have gotten a bit fixated on the Minotaur part. Made a very detailed papier-mâché bull head. Brought in raw meat as a prop.”
Yumi makes a noise of disgust. “Oh God. She was right to be concerned.”
Morgan’s laugh shimmers in the air. “My love, I hate that so much.”
My lovefeels too intimate to witness. Like we are seeing Matt stripped bare to the person beyond what he looks like and how he acts. A person who is loved. I imagine a person watching me and Yumi. I wonder if they would see a distinct lack of Morgan and Matt’s connection, a relationship that’s forgotten what its own face looks like.
“I knew you would hate it,” Matt says. “That’s why I didn’t tell you about it before.The Adventureversetricked me into it—”
“They’re inside my head!” He and Morgan intone together before they burst out laughing. I feel them exchange a look. I know it in my bones. And I find myself staring in Yumi’s direction, wistfulness settling on my shoulders like a yoke.
I am sotiredof being lonely.
The realization resonates through my entire body. I want someone to know me, even in the dark.
Chapter 25
Welcome, Pilgrims
“Do you guys hear that?”Yumi asks.
I tilt my head and listen. The distant dripping has transformed into a gentle rushing sound. The river.
“Thank God,” Matt mutters. “I was starting to understand cave madness.”
The tunnel begins to lighten almost imperceptibly. At first, I think I’m imagining it—my eyes creating phantom light after too long in darkness—but then I can make out the vague outline of Yumi beside me, her profile etching itself into existence as the soft amber light brightens.
“It worked! My handsome genius man,” Morgan says excitedly, her voice muffled from pressing it against something. Matt’s cheek, I assume.
“Of course it did,” he replies without any of his usual acerbity.
The uneven, craggy walls of the labyrinth give way to an ethereal grotto. We step beneath an archway covered in tiny star-shaped flowers. Golden hour filters through the canopy of greenery, illuminating the tropical oasis that sprawls out before us. The snaking river winds through a moss-kissed channel, sparkling in the dappled light.
“That looks like a chapel,” Yumi says, pointing to the white marble building just across a narrow bridge with wire handrails. While we know better than to take that bridge—the mantis man specifically told us to cross the river on stepping stones—I hope that some team fumbles and uses it instead.
The inevitability of a time penalty for breaking the rules is both a gift and a curse as a viewer. You’re both rooting for the team and rooting for the game to trick them. And if it results in another round for me, all the better.
The paved road splits, the right branch leading up to the bridge. The left path deposits us beside the river, facing a series of white, disk-like stepping stones that are each carved with a different symbol.
