Page 74 of The Labyrinth and the Threaded Daughter

Corin gestured towards the floor, toward the stone beneath which the Labyrinth slept. “We call the Labyrinth trial a test of worth,” he continued. “But what honor is there in demanding blood to prove leadership? What justice is there in trapping souls so that others may rule?”

Silence answered him.

Taking a shaky breath, he went on, “If I am to be your king, then I must serve all of you. Not just the ones who survive.”

Corin let his words settle. He had been practicing what he would say to his people when this happened, though none of those words seemed to find him in that moment. Instead, he spoke from the heart. The emotions that ran through him were true and deep.

At the pause of his words, the priestesses seemed to understand their duty. They had been frozen, as was their usual stance, but now that he had quieted, they moved.

Their feet struck the floor in unison, the sound echoing like a heartbeat. A wave of air rushed into their lungs as they inhaled sharply, their entire body rolling upward. Their eyes blinked a few times, moving from unfocused to centered directly on Corin.

“What is bound must one day be unbound,” the one on the right spoke. It wasn’t loud, but the sound seemed to resonate through the stone itself.

Gasps ripped through the hall.

“Threads fray,” the other added. “Doors open.”

Then, together, they said, “This path was always meant to be walked by one who would choose love over leaving.”

The words shocked all in the hall, including Corin. He knew that this was what he needed to do—finding the disc had been fate—but he had no idea this was intentional. That this was what was meant to happen from when the Labyrinth was created.

Or at least from when the trials began.

He did not wish to question it too much. All he wanted to do now was see Ariadne, and no amount of gasps or confusion from the priests around him would deter his plan.

He stepped to the stone dais where the Labyrinth’s seal was set: a great slab etched with spirals and veins long gone dull. And to the side of it was the empty socket he had noticed only a few weeks ago, the absence that had followed him through the maze like a whisper.

He palmed the disc he had found in Ariadne’s chamber, taking a single deep breath.

This is it. He prayed he was right.

He placed the disc into the stone, making sure to line up the rigid lines to perfection.

He expected an immediate reaction from the Labyrinth. It had always been so quick to react when he was inside its halls. Yet, that wasn’t the case. There was no immediate transformation. Instead, there was silence.

Nothing was happening.

For a few breaths, unease rippled through the crowd. Someone laughed nervously. Someone else swore. There were murmurs of doubt Corin tried hard to ignore.

His heart was nearly beating out of his chest. He was so sure this was what he needed to do. If he was wrong… No. He wasn’t wrong. This was meant to be.

Just as his thoughts were beginning to take off, it happened. The stone groaned.

A low, grinding sound rolled through the hall, deep enough to be felt in his bones. It was louder than when it had been opened for his trial, more ancient sounding, but it sounded eerily similar to when passages would open and close inside the Labyrinth.

The veins carved into the floor that had been long dull began to glow faintly, light bleeding through cracks no one had ever seen before.

The ground shuddered beneath them.

He felt for his people at that moment. He was, at least moderately, used to the Labyrinth’s reactions. He knew of the vibration in stone and glowing veins that came with the maze. His people were unfamiliar. Their only experience being that of the trial, and this was different from then.

“King–” someone shouted out from behind him.

Corin did not turn to face the voice.

The rumbling grew louder, harsher. A familiar voice screamed. A priest stumbled back, falling into the crowd. A banner fell from above, landing on a gathering of his court in the corner of his eye.

Then—crack.