Page 84 of Find My Way Down to You

“It’s only you.”

Cerby scampers over. The Danes yip as I crouch down. I scratch behind their ears, laughing as their rough tongues lick my cheeks.

“Are you supposed to be here?” I ask.

Three pairs of frost blue eyes ask me the same thing.

I grin. “Let’s keep that secret between us.”

Cold wet noses bump my chin, heavy breaths dampening my neck. I take it as a sign of approval. A moment later, Cerby darts away. My eyes snag on the structure beyond the hedges. I wander for a closer look.

It’s some sort of maze. Stone hidden beneath a tangle of vines and wild purple flowers with red threads—saffron crocus. My mom grows them occasionally.

At the mouth of the maze is an engraved plaque. My thumb rubs over the unfamiliar language. Heat hums against my skin as I touch every letter.

I walk inside.

Lush flowers are scattered along the tall walls. Above, the vines arc to form a canopy. Light bursts through the gaps in glossy green leaves. Heady spices hang in the air. Shrubs shaped like mythical animals and beasts line the long corridor.

Every turn and narrow passageway look the same. Green, lavish. Endless.

Around a corner, I find a mirror against one of the walls.Gilded thorns form the frame. From a distance, the glass is fogged like ice on a window. But up close, the reflection slowly ripples into focus.

It’s…me. But not as I looked at the ball.

I’m paler, washed out. A sling holds my left arm in place. My suit is replaced by joggers and a white T-shirt spattered in crimson dots. Tiny red jewels of blood shine from cuts on my face.

I know this version of me. From the accident.

My breath hitches, harsh and echoing. Underneath that, the crunch of gravel in the distance. My head snaps in the direction I came. Did Cerby come after me? The wind exhales a long groan.

No, not the wind.Voices.

The maze seems closer, darker. The buzz in my ears builds like a swarm of bees.

“What are you doing in here?”

Heart thudding, I spin around. Propped against one of the walls, Cary stares at me.

“Fuck,” I hiss, hand to my chest. “Don’t scare me like that.”

His eyes narrow. “You cannot just stroll around Aides.”

I sniff. “Yeah, so you’ve told me.”

“Yet you did so anyway.”

“I needed to get away from”—I flap my hand in the direction I think the ballroom is—“there.”

“Did something happen?”

There’s a quiet flash of concern in his eyes. I’m not sure ifit’s real. Like the reflection I saw of myself a minute ago. When I look at the mirror now, the glass has smoked over again.

“Whatisthis place?” I ask.

Cary pushes smoothly off the wall. “Milos’s labyrinth. Somewhere you do not belong.”

I wrap my arms around myself, forcing the image of bloodied August from my head.