Roland’s mind raced as he studied the massive wolf-like Veil-ling. It could have finished them. It should have finished them. And yet, it stood still, watching.

  “I don’t understand,” he murmured. “Why did it stop?”

  Celeste kept her gaze locked on the beast, her stance tense but calculating. “It’s being cautious.”

  Roland frowned. “Of what?”

  “Soul Touch,” she said simply. “It can’t defend against it. That makes you an unknown threat.”

  Roland stiffened. That didn’t sit well with him.

  Celeste continued, “And it knows we’re trapped. It doesn’t have to rush. It’s testing us.”

  A low groan pulled Roland’s attention back to the wagon.

  Beryn was stirring, his fingers twitching as he tried to push himself up. His breathing was steadier now, but his skin was still pale, his fire dim.

  Celeste knelt beside him. “Don’t move too much. You’re still recovering.”

  Beryn forced his eyes open, looking between them. “What... happened?”

  “You almost died,” Celeste said bluntly. “You’re not fighting anymore.”

  Beryn scowled but didn’t argue. He was too exhausted to pretend otherwise.

  Roland exhaled. “So what now? What’s our play?”

  Celeste’s expression darkened. “I can’t help here. My poisons won’t work.”

  Roland’s stomach dropped. “Why not?”

  Celeste nodded toward the Veil-ling. “Because we use the same gift.”

  Realization dawned. They were both attuned to the same kind of divine energy. Just as Celeste’s poisons wouldn’t work against herself, they wouldn’t work against this creature either.

  Roland clenched his fists. That meant their chances of winning were nonexistent. This wasn’t a fight they could win.

  “We need to escape,” he said.

  Celeste nodded. “Agreed. But there’s only one way out.”

  Roland swallowed hard, already knowing what she was going to say.

  “Soul Touch,” she said. “You have to use it.”

  He felt a cold heaviness settle in his chest. “No.”

  Celeste shot him a sharp look. “Roland—”

  “It’s wrong,” he cut in. “I don’t have the right to interfere with a soul like that.”

  Celeste let out a frustrated breath. “You already did when you saved Beryn.”

  “That was different.”

  “Why?” she challenged. “Because it was him instead of an enemy?”

  Roland’s jaw tightened. “Because he was dying.”

  Celeste stepped closer, lowering her voice. “And what do you think is going to happen to us if we don’t get past that thing?”

  Roland clenched his teeth, looking away. Every part of him rebelled against the idea. Soul Touch was unnatural. It wasn’t meant to be used like this.

  But Celeste wasn’t wrong.

  Roland shook his head, his grip tightening around his shield. “No.”

  Celeste’s eyes narrowed. “Roland, this isn’t the time—”

  “It’s exactly the time,” he cut in. “Morals aren’t just for when things are easy. They’re defined by what you do when you’re under pressure.” He met her gaze, his voice unwavering. “I will not use my power to interfere with a soul negatively.”

  Celeste’s frustration flickered across her face. “It’s not about negativity, it’s about survival.”

  Roland exhaled sharply. “And I’m telling you, this is a slope I won’t start down. It feels wrong, so it is wrong.”

  For a moment, neither of them spoke.

  Then Celeste clicked her tongue, rubbing her temples. “Fine. You won’t use Soul Touch. That doesn’t change the fact that we need to get out of here.”

  Roland nodded. “You’re right. It’s the best option. But it’s not the only option.”

  His mind raced. There had to be another way. The Veil-ling was watching them, testing them. If it had wanted them dead, it would have attacked by now. That meant there was still room to act.

  He glanced at Celeste, his determination solidifying. “We need a new plan.”

  Roland took a slow breath, steadying himself. He had an idea—but it was reckless. Dangerous. Still, it was better than using Soul Touch. He just needed Celeste’s knowledge to make it work.

  “We collapse the space,” he said.

  Celeste shot him a look. “That’s not a plan, that’s a death wish.”

  “No, listen,” Roland insisted. “The labyrinth is already weak. We’re outside the boss’s domain, which means the walls here are thin. If we can drain enough divine energy, the entire section should collapse on itself.”

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  Celeste frowned, considering. “It’s possible… but if we do that, we’ll be trapped. Without an active connection to the World tree, the labyrinth won’t grow. We’d be stuck inside dead space with no way out.”

  Roland shook his head. “Not if we force it to grow.”

  Celeste’s expression shifted, curiosity flickering behind her caution. “You think we can force a new passage?”

  Roland nodded. “The boss Veil-ling is already channelling energy into the walls. That means the labyrinth can still change, still reshape itself. If it can do it, so can we.”

  Celeste’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a risky assumption.”

  “It’s better than giving up,” Roland shot back.

  She hesitated, then sighed. “The idea has merit,” she admitted. “But if we collapse the labyrinth and fail to grow the passages, we’re dead. You realise that, right?”

  Roland exhaled. “I do.”

  Celeste shook her head. “Then you also realise that Soul Touch is still the best option.”

  Roland’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. He knew she was right. But right and acceptable weren’t always the same thing.

  Still, this was the only plan he could live with.

  And if they couldn’t force the labyrinth to grow?

  Then they weren’t leaving at all.

  Roland watched Celeste closely, seeing the way her eyes flicked across the space, weighing the risks. He could tell she was considering it, testing the logic in her mind, running through every possible failure.

  “I wish we had time to test this,” she muttered. “But the boss won’t wait forever.”

  She exhaled sharply, then nodded. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. But if this doesn’t work, I swear I will haunt you for eternity.”

  Roland smirked. “Noted.”

  The two of them knelt, placing their hands against the labyrinth walls, and began to pray. Their voices wove together, calling upon the forces that shaped the Veil, asking for aid—not to reinforce, but to drain.

  " Guardian of bark, eternal shield,

  Draw back the tide, let the walls fall.

  Unravel thread, unbind the chain,

  Return the path to void again.

  By root unbroken, by branch untamed,

  Let the Worldtree reclaim what was claimed."

  The divine energy in the walls trembled. The silver-threaded veins of power flickered and dimmed as the structure of the labyrinth withered.

  The wolf-like Veil-ling reacted too late. Its silver-fire eyes widened as it sensed what was happening, but before it could move—

  There was a snap.

  The walls collapsed.

  For a moment, Roland thought they had done it. Then he looked past the crumbling stone—past the shattered labyrinth—

  And saw nothing.

  An empty, starless void stretched before them, vast and infinite. The very fabric of the labyrinth had been torn, and now there was nothingness beyond.

  The air rushed out in an instant, pulled into the vacuum. Roland felt his lungs contract, felt his skin prickle as the pressure dropped.

  Then Celeste moved.

  She didn’t hesitate—she slammed her hands against the broken wall and cast a healing prayer.

  The Veil reacted immediately. The torn space knit itself back together, divine energy flowing into the wound like flesh sealing over an open cut.

  The air snapped back into place, and Roland gasped, taking in a sharp, desperate breath. His body trembled slightly as he forced himself upright, the reality of what just happened sinking in.

  He had a lot of learning to do.

  Beside him, Celeste let out a laugh, her eyes alight with exhilaration.

  Beryn, still slumped in the wagon, groaned. “What… is so funny?”

  Celeste grinned wildly. “Because if I can heal the labyrinth, that means we can grow it.”

  Beryn frowned, still catching his breath. “So?”

  “So,” Celeste said, voice triumphant, “we’re not stuck.”

  Beryn, still slumped in the wagon, asked the obvious question. “So… how do we know where to grow?”

  Celeste didn’t even hesitate. “Soul gaze.”

  Roland blinked. “What?”

  “There are still smaller Veil-lings around,” she explained. “You can see them. We find a dead end and aim for them. If there’s a soul on the other side, then there’s space to grow into.”

  Roland had never considered using his gift like that. But she was right—he could see souls. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “Alright. Let’s try it.”

  With that, they began moving through the labyrinth, following the winding paths, searching for signs of life. Occasionally, Roland would spot Veil-lings lurking in the shadows of another passage, separated from them by thin, brittle walls. Beryn, despite still looking half-dead, insisted on hunting them down whenever possible.

  Roland couldn’t tell if Flameborn were honorable or just stupid.

  Eventually, they found what they were looking for—a dead end with a soul just beyond it. Close.

  Celeste wasted no time. She pressed her hands to the wall and whispered a healing prayer.

  Nothing happened.

  Or if it did, it wasn’t noticeable.

  Celeste frowned, and for a brief moment, her shoulders sagged.

  Roland felt a prickle of concern. “Celeste?”

  She let out a long sigh. “I figured this would happen.”

  His chest tightened. “Then why do you look so upset?”

  She scowled. “Because I’m about to lose more of my haul.”

  Roland exhaled, relief and exasperation mixing. “Of course that’s what you’re upset about.”

  Celeste ignored him and started setting up. “We need to feed the labyrinth. Divine essence holds raw energy—if we put it back into the structure, it should respond.” Celeste arranged the divine essence carefully, pressing her hands to the brittle wall. She took a steadying breath and whispered a prayer.

  "Guardian of Bark, let the roots entwine, weave a path where none align—"

  Nothing. Not even a flicker of movement.

  She frowned, adjusting her stance before trying again. "Veil-born paths, hear my call. Renew, restore, and open all—"

  Still, the wall remained solid and unmoving.

  Roland watched as frustration crept into her expression. “It worked before, why not now?”

  Celeste exhaled sharply, running a hand over her face. “Because last time, I wasn’t asking the Worldtree for help. The void—the space beyond—belongs to the Mothertree, and she listens to me. But this—” she gestured at the labyrinth walls, at the shifting, ancient passageways, “—this is the Worldtree’s domain. And it won’t listen to me.”

  Roland hesitated. “So… what do we do?”

  Celeste turned to him. “You do it.”

  Roland blinked. “Me?”

  She nodded. “The Worldtree won’t answer a Motherborn. It only listens to your kind. Your prayers are the only ones that will work.”

  Roland exhaled, stepping forward and pressing his hands against the cold surface of the wall. He closed his eyes, searching for the right words.

  "Guardian of Bark, we return what was taken. Let the roots drink deep. Let the path grow."

  A pulse of energy rippled through the stone. The divine essence flickered, shifting beneath his touch, then slowly sank into the wall like water absorbing into dry earth.

  The labyrinth trembled.

  Then, with a low, groaning creak, the wall shifted. Roots unfurled from the stone, weaving together into a passage that hadn’t been there before. The way forward was open.

  Celeste let out a breath and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, looks like the Worldtree does like you.”

  The wall moved. The Veil pulsed, shifting like living stone, but the essence burned away at an alarming rate. The crystals dissolved into nothingness, their stored energy devoured by the hungry, dying space.

  Celeste watched in growing concern. “We’re going to run out.”

  Roland gritted his teeth. “Not if we push it just enough—”

  The last of the essence vanished.

  The wall finished shifting. A new passage formed.

  They had just barely made it.

  Celeste looked at what was left of their once-impressive pile of divine crystals and groaned. “This is painful to look at.”

  Roland clapped her on the shoulder. “We’re alive, we’re not trapped, and we know we can make this work.”

  Celeste sighed dramatically. “Yes, yes, but at what cost?” She shot a mournful look at the diminished haul.

  Beryn chuckled weakly from the wagon. “You have problems, CeeCee.”

  Celeste whipped around. “Don’t call me that.”