Lucas led the group forward. Elizabeth stayed closest to him, her steps easy but her eyes flicking now and then to the shadows above, as if expecting the Labyrinth to change its mind. Behind them, Luke murmured something to Thalia, low enough that it was just a hum of breath against the dark. Annabeth walked near the rear, one hand brushing the wall sometimes, feeling the seams where raw rock turned smooth.
When they paused to breathe, preparing for the traps that Lucas mentioned were common here, Annabeth's voice slipped forward.
"What's in your hand, Lucas?"
Lucas juggled the ball of twine in one hand, not knowing what it was but knowing it shouldn't be dangerous, so he casually tossed it to her.
She caught it with both hands, looking it over for some time, Luke and Thalia still whispering. At the same time, Elizabeth started tapping her foot on the ground, anxious about going through the labyrinth again, and the waiting wasn't helping.
Eventually, Annabeth stopped turning the twine ball in her hands and instead let out a squeal, catching the attention of the lovers, and pausing Elizabeth's little tick. Lucas was the one who questioned the sound.
"Everything alright, 'Beth?"
"Ariadne's string. It's Ariadne's string. You know she was the reason Perseus survived, right? " Her words echoed quietly through the darkness, "This can help us the same way it helped Perseus, by guiding us without worry through this place."
Elizabeth, the most anxious, immediately called out, "Wait! This twine can help us travel safely? No traps? No death games? Nothing like that?"
Seeing Annabeth nod, the pupils in Elizabeth's eyes dilated; she stared at the ball of yarn as if she were willing to worship it.
But it was Luke who broke this silent hope. "Do you know how to use it?"
Silence.
Luke's words cut straight to the heart of the problem. While they had the string, they didn't know how to use it to counter the labyrinth.
Does the ball of twine itself stop the killer maze? Is some sort of incantation or objective needed to activate it? Should everyone carry some of the twine to stay safe? These questions floated through the heads of all of them, resulting in their sudden confidence to deflate and Elizabeth to glare at Luke, causing him to awkwardly smile and rub his neck.
Eventually, they all decided on leaving a trail of twine behind them, unspooling it as they travelled; hopefully, this would work, and if it didn't, it would at least help guide them back to an exit.
They continued forward, traversing through different corridors; eventually, bored with the silence, Elizabeth approached the trio, introducing herself and seemingly having an affinity with Luke.
Luke slowed his pace to match Elizabeth's. They shared that spark of understanding, two veterans of Lucas's misadventures, as they traded stories of their time with him. Their snickering echoed in the silence, making Lucas give a tired sigh.
"Must you indulge in my past? Don't forget I know you're embarrassing stories, too."
That caused both to pause, Elizabeth muttering "Buzzkill" under her breath, while Luke turned to Thalia, giving her a look of a child being bullied, hoping to turn her against Lucas.
Thalia just glared back.
Lucas lifted a hand in a threat. "Keep talking, I'll rip out every last hair on your head. Maybe that'll fix your female charm problem, Luke. I'm starting to think it's your hair's fault."
Thalia barked a laugh that echoed off the walls. "Leave him one eyebrow at least. I want to see if it helps."
The laughter trickled off into soft echoes that danced down the endless stone ribs of the corridor. For a moment, the Labyrinth felt less like a prison, less enclosed. Less heavy.
Lucas adjusted the coil of twine in his grip, feeding it out steadily as they moved. They didn't talk much after that, just the occasional whisper, a quiet check that they were all still there; that the ground hadn't swallowed one of them whole when no one was looking.
Annabeth stuck closer to Lucas now, eyes drifting to the twine every few steps. He caught her more than once, lips moving soundlessly, probably calculating all the ways the Labyrinth might try to cheat them. Every time she met his eyes, she just shook her head, half in awe, half in disbelief that something as simple as a ball of yarn might outwit Daedalus's last masterpiece.
Although she detested his character, for in legend he killed his nephew out of jealousy for his potential, she was always in awe of Daedalus' intelligence, and always wanted to study his works.
The path began to slope upward. Subtle at first, then steeper. The air shifted. The stale, stone-heavy taste of labyrinth air gave way to a whisper of wind that smelled faintly of pine and cold mountain water. They felt it before they saw it, the faintest brush of light flickering through the final crook in the tunnel, the small bit of warmth it gave them contrasted heavily with the labyrinth's natural chill.
Lucas slowed his steps. He looked back at the people trailing him: Thalia's steady, stormy eyes; Luke's tired grin; Annabeth's wide, unblinking wonder; Elizabeth's sharp stare already scanning for the exit.
Lucas turned the crook first, pushing open a wooden door. His boots landed on cracked pale tiles that stretched out under his feet, scuffed and warped by old water damage. Overhead, part of a drop ceiling still clung stubbornly to rusted metal braces, though most of it sagged in wet lumps.
Elizabeth came out from behind him, followed by the rest.
"What is this?" she asked, voice muffled as she peered down a ruined corridor where half-shuttered storefronts gaped like pulled teeth. Luke slipped past her shoulder, letting out a low whistle. He nudged a half-buried plastic sign with his boot; the name had peeled away long ago.
Annabeth moved to Lucas's side, staring at a splintered kiosk that looked ready to crumble under its own dust.
A dead shopping mall.
Lucas returned his gaze to the labyrinth, pulling on the length of twine they had and dragging it back to be respun into the remaining ball. With the twine back, they decided to move on, hoping to make their way to haven as quickly as possible.
They walked through the place in silence. Their steps echoed off broken tile, empty glass, and the scatter of old flyers that fluttered underfoot. They slipped out through a side entrance, where the doors had long since fallen from their hinges, and nearby walls were covered in graffiti.
The sky above was bruised dawn, cold wind brushing their faces.
They kept walking. Past graffiti walls and weeds that split the asphalt. Toward the road that would lead them on.