Page 42 of The Labyrinth and the Threaded Daughter

“Me?”

“That would be ideal, I believe.”

Corin glanced down at the endless pit of darkness and gulped. He jerked his head with a sharp inhale.

He pressed his back to the wall, toes testing the ledge before committing to his weight. He could feel the cold from the stone through his boots. The surface sloped enough to make balance a constant battle, but it seemed sturdy enough.

He spread his arms, fingers chasing purchase in the shallow cracks of the golden veins. There was just enough there for him to anchor himself.

With his first step, his breath came out slow and measured. It landed solidly as he shuffled by. Inch by inch, he crept along the emptiness.

Don’t look down, he told himself.

The pit did not make that easy. A roar echoed up suddenly—sounding closer and sharper now than it had any business being—and the ledge vibrated beneath his feet. Corin’s heart leapt into his throat. His boot slipped an inch, stone grinding against leather.

“Careful!” Ariadne hissed. “Slowly.”

He froze, his muscles screaming as he forced himself to stillness. Sweat slicked his palms, and he clawed into the veins’ grooves for more purchase. The blade at his hip suddenly felt impossibly heavy as if pulling him towards the void. He inhaled sharply, counting his breaths as his racing pulse lessened slightly.

He shifted again, inch by inch. Slowly moving along the wall until he was so close to the end. The ledge seemed to narrow more as he went, the wall pressing in more as though curious to see whether he would falter or not. Another sound rose from below—wings maybe or claws scraping stone. Something dark and ominous and terrifying.

Halfway across, his foot slipped.

Corin’s stomach lurched as his heel slipped entirely off the ledge. His fingers tore against the wall, nails splitting as he clawed for grip. For one terrible heartbeat, he felt himself tipping into nothing.

Ariadne’s hand shooting out was the only thing that saved him. She caught his wrist with surprising strength, her grip iron-tight. “Hold on!”

He gasped, dragging in air as she braced herself to support him, her feet planted and shoulders taut. Slowly, agonizingly, he pulled himself back against the wall.

Corin focused on the far wall, counting his shaky breaths and ignoring the pit’s hungry noises as they rose and fell beneath him.

“You must relax,” Ariadne advised. “Take some deep breaths.”

He listened, mimicking her even breathing. After a few unsettled moments, his heart beat finally calmed enough to where he felt comfortable moving forward. Slowly, he shuffled his feet towards the other side of the chasm.

When his boots finally touched solid ground again, his legs nearly gave out.

He staggered forward, turning just in time to watch Ariadne start her journey across. For her sake, she was much more calm. She moved in a way that was practiced, and he supposed she had probably done this a few times at least over the centuries.

Her feet shuffled swiftly across the worn stones, much more controlled and elegant than Corin imagined he looked. When she landed beside him, the two released their held breaths. They stood there in silence, the only sound between them was their solid breathing and the pit’s growling displeasure.

Then the stone shifted.

The ledge crumbled inward, collapsing into the chasm with a thunderous roar. The darkness swallowed the debris whole, the sounds below surging in response.

Corin stared at the empty space where they had just been.

“Well,” he said hoarsely. “That felt final.”

Ariadne let out a shaky breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. “The Labyrinth dislikes hesitation. It is always sure of itself.”

“I suppose we can’t go back.”

A smile appeared on her lips that she quickly covered. “No, we cannot.”

He glanced at her, noting the way her hand still trembled slightly before she stilled it. “You did well.”

“It never gets any easier.” She met his gaze, something warm and unsettled passing between them. “So did you.”