The sour voice bounced off the walls, and I squeezed into a crack between the rocks, snapping the shield closed on my lantern and tucking it behind my cloak for good measure. A boot scraped against stone, and though I was a few paces away from the path, I held my breath.

Silver light illuminated the blackness and, seconds later, an orb floated past my hiding spot. Then an armored guard carrying a sluag spear, followed by what looked like a troll in a miner’s guild uniform, then another guard. They were moving in the same direction as I had been, which meant they’d either been outside or somewhere else within the labyrinth.

“Here.”

Steel clinked against rock and feet shuffled. I wanted to see what they were doing, but I didn’t dare move. Trolls had exceptional hearing, and my luck wasn’t good. Either way, they didn’t linger, footsteps falling away. I waited until I was sure they were gone, then squeezed out of my hiding spot. Looking both ways to make sure I saw no trace of silver light, I turned up my lantern and proceeded forward, passing a bright red X.

I paused. It wasn’t the first such marking I’d seen, but I hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of what they indicated, so I’d ignored them. Only this was where the group had lingered, so it must mean something. The X was above a fissure in the rock; otherwise, I could see nothing remarkable about the location. Pulling off my glove, I tentatively lifted my hand to the crack, then froze as heat warmed my fingers.

Magic.

But for what purpose, I couldn’t say. My skin prickled, but standing here staring seemed unlikely to provide answers, so I kept walking.

I passed several more X markings as I made my way toward Trollus, but no other parties of trolls. Other than tired feet, a skinned knee, and a bruised elbow, I’d escaped the labyrinth unscathed. Rather than filling me with confidence, my skin prickled with gooseflesh and my mouth felt dry no matter how many sips I took from my water skin. Something’s not right. Something’s not right.

Trailing one hand along the wall, I walked across the cracked cobbles of the parts of Trollus that had been destroyed by rock, hearing the first echoes of the waterfall and remembering when I’d come this way with Marc and Luc. How it had been terrifying and magical and unknown, and now… I swallowed down the pang in my heart. Now it felt almost like coming home.

Voices. I closed the shield on my lantern, pressing a hand against the crushed buildings. I rounded a slight bend, and stopped, a group of a dozen trolls standing next to the closed gate. I’d suspected it would be guarded, and I swiftly retreated back until I found an open street branching off the main. Angoulême and his followers hadn’t come through the gate – they’d used a hole in the upper reaches to gain access to the labyrinth. And it was that entrance I sought.