Page 58 of The Labyrinth and the Threaded Daughter

Her lips parted as if to argue, then closed sharply. Her gaze dropped to the stone between them. “That is what frightens me, I admit,” she whispered. “That you might.”

Neither of them moved.

That’s when the guilt crept in.

It entered slowly, insidious as the shadows gathered at the edges of the chamber. Corin hadn’t meant for her words to land so heavily, but they had. The idea that she wanted him gone—not for her freedom but for his survival—sat painfully in his chest.

He knew getting out would mean leaving her forever, and that horrid thought bubbled up inside him with rage. But he had to. He had to go back to his people, to his kingdom. He had to leave her.

But her words…

He turned away before she could read his face too clearly.

And as he did, his eyes caught on the round object she had thrown towards him. The one that had rolled right in front of him. It was a ball of golden thread.

Corin blinked. A ball of thread. The ball of thread. It had to be. The one that had gotten Theseus out of the Labyrinth the first time.

And there was a piece of string trailing off of it. He followed the path, seeing it lead down a passage on the far side of the chamber—half-shadowed with darker and older stone.

It was the corridor that led to where everything had changed. Where blood had been spilled and the ground had trembled beneath the weight of something massive. Where he had first stood between Ariadne and the Minotaur, blade raised and heart pounding.

He had tried to go through that passage not long ago and was quickly redirected back to the chamber. But maybe now that he had Ariadne and the string…

Maybe the passage would let them through together.

Corin swallowed. He moved slowly towards the ball of gold and picked it up. He tossed it between his hands, feeling the roughness of the thread pass over his skin.

Ariadne scoffed as she caught his movement. “That thread truly never works for me. Not since the hero.”

“I think,” he said slowly, “I have an idea.”

She stiffened. “An idea.”

He pursed his lips and looked at her once. He hoped to convey the hope as he met her gaze. He was drawn to this by a certainty he hadn't earned yet but couldn’t ignore. He stepped carefully toward the passage, tugging along the thread as he did.

He stepped inside the passage just barely. The air felt different—suddenly charged and expectant. It was like the Labyrinth knew what he was thinking and was waiting with bated breath.

“Where are you going?” she questioned, voice sharp.

He turned back to her. The look on his face was reluctant, conflicted—but resolved.

“I think this is the way forward,” he answered. “I think we need to go through here. We need to follow the thread, just like you did before.”

Ariadne was silent as she watched him.

“I think this will take me to my sacrifice,” he admitted.

She looked him over, her arms crossed tightly across her shoulders. “You can follow that cursed string if you wish. I will not be following.”

Something pulled in Corin’s chest, and he understood deeply that he needed to convince her to come with him. He knew she was needed for this part of his trial, even if he didn’t understand why.

“You need to come, as well. The Labyrinth won’t let me do this alone.”

Her brow furrowed. “You do not know what is down there, heir.”

Perhaps she didn’t realize it was the passage they had gone through after he fought the Minotaur, but he doubted she would forget.

“I have an idea,” he repeated quietly. “Enough of one. But I need you to come with me. Please.”