Page 113 of The Witch and His Crow

I looked back to Arwyn, to see that he kept watching at the path behind me. His forehead was furrowed with deep lines. I wondered what the maze showed him. The truth? What did that mean in his mind? The truth was meant to set a person free, not terrify them.

I wrapped my fingers around Arwyn’s fist, the one that grasped the athame so tightly it shook. I guided it up, holding him firm. ‘Prove you are stronger. Resist it.’

He settled his eyes on me. Arwyn looked like a broken man. ‘And what if it ruins everything?’

‘Then at least you’ll survive. That’s all that matters,’ I said.

I knew now what I had to do.

The ghost of my mother was calling to me. Her voice urging me to come to her, to continue this game I’ve spent my life a part of. But I continued ignoring her, proving I was stronger than what the maze thought. It didn’t take long for her to fade away to mist again. Behind her, where the path had ended in yet another wall, was now an open tunnel.

The end of the maze.

A way out.

But I couldn’t leave Arwyn until he was prepared to face his fears. We both were walking out of this. Even if he had to use Romy’s athame to…

Romy’s athame. That was where I recognised it.

The blood drained from my body, before my mind could comprehend why.

‘Where is she?’ I said, feeling a shiver of dread race down my spine, debilitating me.

Arwyn locked eyes with me, his sorrow deepening. He didn’t bother pretending he didn’t know who I asked about. ‘Romy’s alive.’

‘That wasn’t my question.’ I stumbled back a step, confusion racking my mind. ‘Arwyn, where is she?’

He lifted his hand out, as though he wanted to take me in his hold and keep me close. But I jolted back from his grasp, his fingers missing me by inches.

‘Safe,’ Arwyn said, ‘I promise she’s safe. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. I swear it. Just like I’d never intentionally hurt you. I made a promise to spare Romy, I’d not break that.’

‘Intentionally?’ I shook my head, refusing to believe what was happening. Unsure exactlywhatwas happening. ‘Then answer my question, Arwyn. Fucking answer me.’

There had been blood on the athame. I wouldn’t have even contemplated it belonged to Romy. Not until I saw the horror in Arwyn’s sapphire-bright eyes, and the regret etched into his face.

‘Romy failed the Trial. She’s alive and well, I swear, but I couldn’t let her continue.’

‘What the fuck does that mean, Arwyn?’ My mind ached with possibilities.

‘She knew too much. But instead of hiding the truth like I’ve been trying, you’re right, I must face it. It’s the only way out of here.’

‘What—truth?’

Lightning whipped over the crimson-clouded sky. It was a warning, an omen for doom to follow.

‘This.’ Arwyn’s word was final and damming. He lifted his shirt up so I could see his tattooed stomach, then he turned around so I could see his back. A back once covered in marksand wounds. A back that Romy had healed with the salve from Eleanor’s grimoire. I drank him in, looking over the same muscles my hands explored, the same tattoos I’d traced with my tongue and lips. Except I was wrong. Because, with a wave of his hand, Arwyn’s tattoos disappeared. The ink left his skin like smoke, revealing mostly unmarked flesh. All beside a scar worn into his lower back. A symbol I’d recognise in any time, in any life.

A cross caught in a circle. The symbol of a Witch Hunter.

‘How?’ I gasped, choosing to believe this was some new conjuration the maze was making me face.

‘Illusions,’ Arwyn’s voice cracked as he said it. Blue fire sparked across his hand, the same as I’d seen it before. But in the blink of an eye it changed. The fire rippled to ice, then to the image of a moving night sky. Scene after scene it changed, all while Arwyn’s eyes glowed like beacons. ‘My Gift suits me. Because what else should I control then the very personification of lies? There isso muchI’ve lied to you about.’

‘Don’t,’ I snapped, my mind breaking down I was so overwhelmed. ‘Don’t come near me.’

My finger was shaking violently as I pointed towards him. Hell, my entire body was trembling.

‘I’m not your enemy.’

---