Raisa untied the cord and spilled the contents into her hand. It was a heavy gold ring on a chain, dulled with age, engraved with images of running wolves, endlessly circling. She could tell it that it was too large for any of her fingers.

Raisa looked up at Elena. “It…it looks very old,” she said, which was all she could think of.

Elena took it from her, undid the clasp with amazing dexterity, and fastened the chain around Raisa’s neck. “This once belonged to Hanalea,” Elena said abruptly.

“Hanalea,” Raisa said. “But it looks too big for—”

“It is what we call a talisman. It offers some protection against wizard charms. Never take it off.

“Now,” Elena said, rising, “I will do what I can to bring your father home.”

Sometime later, Raisa yawned and opened her eyes. She was alone in the maze, slumped in a corner of the bench, a warm south wind stirring her hair. Had she fallen asleep? Had it all been a dream?

But the Running Wolves ring hung heavy from the chain around her neck.

C H A P T E R  T E N

BACK
IN THE
MAZE

Raisa sent a messenger to the barracks, asking Amon to meet her in the maze temple at evensong time that evening, but he sent a reply back saying he was on duty. She tried again the next night, with the same result. After the third rejection, she threatened to visit him in his quarters in the barracks, and he finally agreed to come.

Meanwhile, Micah sent her an extravagant bouquet of flowers and several notes suggesting a meeting. She ignored them. She’d teach him to run to his father, telling tales.

That night she traveled through the stone passageway with more confidence, carrying a lighted taper and making enough noise to scatter the rats ahead of her. Her attire was more practical as well—she wore one of her divided riding skirts, boots, and a close-fitting jacket. This made it much easier when she ascended the ladder, clenching the taper in her teeth like a pirate.

When she slammed open the metal door from the passageway, Amon leaped up from the bench, ripping his sword from its scabbard. He pivoted on his heel, scanning the room.

“Hanalea’s bones, Rai,” he said, shaking his head and sliding his sword home again. “I thought you were going to block that tunnel off.”

“I never said I would,” she replied, flopping down on the bench. “I like having a back door.” She raised her hand as he opened his mouth. “Don’t start. Please sit down. You’re looming over me like a flatland priest.”

He sat down on the bench, squeezing into the farthest corner as if she might be catching, his body stiff and formal, his hands carefully placed on his knees.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Raisa asked bluntly.