Page 8 of The Labyrinth and the Threaded Daughter

Then, he saw movement.

A figure slowly emerged from a bend ahead, half-swallowed by shadow. It was tall, or had been once, though now its spine seemed to curve unnaturally, shoulder hunched as if the air itself pressed down on it. Its clothes hung in tatters, fabric so worn it had lost all color, clinging to a frame reduced by time and hunger. A cloak shredded at the hem trailed behind the figure, dragging softly across the floor as it made its way closer to the young heir.

It was a human.

A man.

He stood several paces away, not moving to greet—or threaten—Corin.

Corin took a cautious step forward as he tightened his grip on the blade, seeing the man’s eyes that reflected too brightly against the Labyrinth’s faint glow like a polished stone. They were fixed on Corin with a sharpness that made his skin prickle. His beard was long and matted, streaked with gray and something darker, and his face bore the slack, unsettled expression of someone who hadn’t had to arrange it properly in far too long.

Corin gulped and shuffled in place as his grip on his sword tightened even more. If this was a monster he was meant to defeat, he was uneasy about his potential future actions. This decaying man did not look like any monster he had seen or heard of before. No harpy or chimera looked like this. He was just a man. An old man who seemed to be lost in space and time.

“Ah,” the man croaked, voice rasping as though it had been unused for years. “Another one. It was close to time, I count.”

Corin did not lower his blade. “Who are you?”

The man tilted his head, studying Corin with unsettling intensity. “That depends. Are you lost yet?”

The question sent a chill through Corin’s chest.

“I’m Corin. Of Knossos,” He greeted carefully. “The heir of–”

An angry rumble echoed through the hall of the Labyrinth.

The man clicked his tongue. “Oh funny boy. You all are.” A twitch of his lips. “At first.”

“And who are you?”

The man took a step closer, clearly favoring his right leg. Corin noticed then the way his foot dragged, the unnatural angle of the ankle, the way the stone beneath it seemed to give just a little, as if accommodating him.

He grew ever closer, forcing Corin to take a few steps back. Back towards the solid walls. Back towards safety.

“The stone knows you. As it knew me. I can hear it. It’s… curious,” the man murmured.

Corin blinked. “What do you mean?”

A dry laugh escaped the man’s throat, rasping against the walls surrounding them. “Questions, questions. Only fools to ask but not know.”

Corin lifted his sword higher, pointing the tip directly at the man’s face. “Who are you, old man?”

“Is that any way to greet an elder?” The man countered with another chuckle. He shook his head slowly and lifted a skeletal hand toward the passage behind him.

Corin blinked once. Twice. “An elder?”

“Crispy, crispy!”

“What…” Corin trailed off, shaking his head at the old fool.

The man clicked his tongue again, gesturing towards his outstretched hand. “Come. I think she would like you.”

The heir stiffened despite himself. “Who?”

The man’s eyes flickered briefly towards the wall, reverent and wary all at once. “The Golden One, of course,” he whispered. “The daughter who awaits.”

This man was making no sense, Corin decided, but the Labyrinth shifted behind him, the stone jutting out suddenly and pushing Corin towards the old man. Corin forcibly stumbled forward but did not yet close the distance between them.

Following behind this figure seemed like a recipe for disaster, one he did not want to partake in. He would just need to seek out another way to travel so he could avoid this man. Though, that was easier said than done as he glanced around. The only other way to go would be backwards.