Eighteen
The smell of sand and water fill my nose. A hard, uneven surface presses against my back. I’m aware that I’ve been asleep, but I don’t know for how long. A low groan escapes me as I stretch my limbs and try to remember where I was before I fell asleep.
The labyrinth.
The minotaur.
The fall.
Adrenaline shoots through me, aiding my efforts to pull myself to the surface of consciousness. I blink. After focusing in the dim blue light, my eyes manage to make out a rock wall somewhere above and behind me. With a great effort, I sit up. The action causes my head to throb, and I raise my hand to the source of the pain. I feel something wet on the back of my head. I pull my hands away and find a dark substance on my fingers. Blood. I feel my head again but can’t find an open wound. It
