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Tears of relief trickled down my cheeks. I rested against the vines holding my body aloft, limp with the sudden removal of panic. The vines gave way, instantly shrinking back to their original form, and I plummeted to the ground.
I hit the forest floor with a whump that knocked the air from my lungs a second time. This time, however, I couldn’t get up quickly. I rolled to my side and slapped the ground, unsure if my lungs would ever inflate again.
My eyes bulged as my head throbbed and my vision darkened at the edges.
As I writhed on the ground, desperate for breath, Archer appeared before me.
He walked with purposeful steps, glancing at the ground as he stepped over roots and brush. His long blond hair was pulled half back behind his head. He looked older, with facial hair and clothes I’d never seen. Leather straps crossed his chest, and he’d grown more muscular.
This was my brother in the future. Time must work differently here. And now, he’d also been thrown into the Labyrinth as I’d feared.
I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, blinking away the fuzziness in my vision. As I blinked, Archer’s appearance shifted, blurring into something unrecognizable. My chest burned from the lack of air, my crushed lungs unable to draw in a full breath.
“Archer?” I croaked.
The man stopped and fixed his eyes on me. It wasn’t Archer. His face was wider, fuller, and dark with rage.
Fear gripped me, and I finally gasped and gasped again, drinking in the sweet air.
The mist licked my ankles and slithered over my arms, like it was alive. The blue mist had gained a silvery hue, which washed over my face, stinging my eyes. I blinked and was suddenly looking at myself, as if in a mirror. The image vanished when I blinked again, and I was once more staring at the approaching stranger.
But in that one flickering glance, I’d seen myself from where he stood. In that heartbeat, I’d sensed panic and sadness, but not my own—more like a pinching loss for someone I’d never met. A strange thought now fled my mind, a sliver of a memory, no more than a single impression: the vision of a woman’s face, pale as if lifeless. Silver-blue mist pulsed away from me, then swirled around the man in violent little whorls.
I labored to my feet, but I didn’t take my eyes off the stranger.
He lifted a bow from his shoulder and before I had time to duck, an arrow whooshed right by where my shoulder would have been if my lace dress hadn't snagged on a broken sapling and held me down.
I yanked my dress free with a shout and stumbled backward, my stupid dress hooking everything on the forest floor. The man nocked another arrow and aimed, but no vines lifted me to safety this time. Silvery mist encircled me, eager to smother me.
My terror morphed into anger and I screamed. I wasn’t ready to die.
The man paused and peeked around the bow. "Who are you?"
I was heaving breaths too fast to answer. Despite his weapon aimed at my head, I couldn't help but notice his strong build and ruggedly handsome face.
"Did the king send you? What does he want now?" His voice was deeper than Archer’s. It sounded raspy, as if rarely used.
"King?" I wheezed, stepping behind a tree. I couldn't outrun a grown man on my best day, let alone in this dress and these slippers. "He put me in here. If that's what you mean?"
When the man didn't respond, I peeked around the tree and yelped. An arrow thunked into the bark beside my face.
"That was a warning," the man called out. "Stay away from me."
"You're not going to kill me?" I asked from behind the tree.
After a pause, “Not if you stop attacking me.”
My eyebrows pinched and I shook my head. “Attacking? I have no weapon. I doubt I’d be able to take you down with a silk slipper.”
The man cleared his throat, and I dared another glance around the tree.
“I was referring to your magic,” he said, his bow no longer aimed at my head.
I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t have any worthwhile magic, but I snapped my lips shut before admitting this to him. Maybe it was beneficial if he had a reason to fear me.
“I won’t hurt you,” I said, trying to lift my voice to a more confident volume.
He replaced the arrow in the quiver at his back, never taking his eyes off of me. “Then why is your magic smothering me right now?”
