Chapter 1

The night was alive monsters, though not all of them roamed within the walls of Pasty Grey’s Incredible Labyrinth.

The dark interior of the amusement park glittered with fallen rain and the air swam with the heady scent of petrichor.

In the midst of the blackness, Jade Jackobi stood utterly still, his fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of a double-sided battle axe. He couldn’t afford to move a fraction from this spot, and so he stood, poised mid-swing, and he waited.

Here, in an unpopular back corner of the Carnival circuit, there stood a single-level carousel full of strange creatures. Glass bulbs roped overhead, their amber filaments winking against the moonlit sky.

Jade’s attention was, as always, everywhere at once. It was on the disembodied sounds of laughter, screams, and music beyond the high stone walls of the Labyrinth. It was on the control booth behind him, where another figure stood hidden in the shadows.

But mostly, it was focused on the carousel before him, where a circle of ghostly, manic creatures were caught in the midst of their run: the rearing unicorn, the hippogriff in flight, the phoenix glaring with molten eyes. It was there, between the silent creatures, that a dark, sinuous body crouched; a Ghoul, with orange-scarlet eyes that glowed like burning coals.

Jade’s mouth tightened, and even to this slight movement the creature reacted; a ripple moving down its taut, muscular body.

But Jade continued to wait and so it waited; waited for the other to act first.

A sudden noise ground from the control booth behind them and all the lights on the carousel flared into brilliant life. The ride shifted and began to move, twirling in a sluggish circle; music rising drunkenly from its speakers.

The Ghoul jerked backwards and Jade leapt forward.

He landed sure-footed on the slick aluminum floor, swinging his battle axe as the ride began to pick up speed.

The Ghoul arched its back, dark lips pealing back from razor fangs as it growled, its claws shrieking against the floor as it drew back its massive paw.

Jade felt it then, as he always did; the desire to kill him rolled off this creature in rippling waves, but it was no ordinary desire. It was a dark, luxurious thing; an excited anticipation that had waited a long time for this day to come. Even though Jade had never encountered this particular beast before, it already couldn’t wait to destroy him; it longed for it.

The Ghoul lolled its head in a self-possessed gesture that was almost human, and grinned up at Jade from between its hunched shoulders. It flexed its muscles, stretched its back, and prepared for its first kill on the shores of this brand new world.

Jade grinned right back at it.

Then it’s foul luck you met me first, Wither.

The Ghoul snarled like it understood, shuffling back on its haunches as the world beyond the carousel became a dizzying swirl of color.

Then it lunged.

It sprung like a coil, driving straight at Jade’s chest. It would bear him to the ground and rip his throat out all over this shiny floor, that much Jade knew for certain; he could see the whole scenario playing out in his mind.

So it was with practiced ease that he ducked down beneath the Ghoul, his left leg splayed out for balance as he swung the battle axe up into the creature’s stomach. The blade tore easily through soft flesh and organs as the Ghoul carried on flying over him. It howled in fury as it was flung off the spinning carousel.

Jade leapt after it, gripping one of the tall golden poles and swinging outward, throwing himself down just beyond the felled creature. It half-rose off the soaked concrete, its ruined stomach leaking blood and acrid smoke. It shrieked up at him, its panther-like face transforming garishly.

Jade raised his axe and buried it deep in the Ghoul’s spine.

Behind him, the ride powered down, the lights flickered out, and the parade of fiberglass animals slowed their frenzied run. Jade braced his boot against the Ghoul’s shoulder and wrenched his blade free of the corpse.

Well. That was effective.

Jade barely glanced up as a silver-blonde teen dropped down out of the control booth and came to stand beside him.

You’ll have to tell Trillium you like the new axe.

Jade nodded, spinning the weapon in his hand and making acidic blood fling everywhere.

Hey! shouted the teen, reeling back. I don’t want to be coated in Wither blood, thanks. I still have a meet-and-greet!

Jade scrubbed the blade clean against the Ghoul’s slick fur.

You didn’t wait for my signal, Dom.

"Sorry. I thought that mouth thing was the signal."

Jade stared at him. What are you talking about?

Dom swung an enormous scythe over his shoulder so that it curved behind his head like an aggressive halo.

Apparently not. It’s so hard to tell with you. You think that was the last one?

Possibly. I will need a report from the others first.

Dom squinted up at the towering stone wall at their backs and let out a loud gust of air.

So we’re opening Ariadne’s Thread again, huh?

So it would seem.

What’s Pasty Grey thinking? growled Dom. He even put his own 28 on patrol tomorrow. It’s gonna be a disaster.

I never know what that magician is thinking, Jade thought.

He walked to the adjacent wall, pressing hard into it until a hidden door revealed itself; a shifting rectangle of stone, far too heavy for any ordinary human to move.

Dom hurried after him, managing to make it through the door before it closed again, resealing into a flawless stone wall.

They found themselves in the midst of the noisy chaos of a busy theme park gearing up for its end-of-the-day show. People milled everywhere, chattering about restaurants, ride wait times, and the best spots to see the fireworks.

Jade walked along the wall, avoiding the crowds, and Dom and his great scythe trailed after him like an unsettling reaper.

Are you going to let him get away with it? I mean, what if something happens?

"I will go along with Pasty Grey’s orders until something does happen, said Jade. Warrior cannot handle this alone, and if the Nucleus of the Ghouls returns on his watch, we will need to intervene."

Victor! Mom! It’s Victor!

A girl walking with her family had spotted them. She was around ten years old, covered in glitter, and wore a pink-sequined version of Pasty Grey’s top hat on her head. Jade winced.

Allow me, said Dom, sauntering over to the girl, his scythe shimmering impossibly bright under the blazing carnival lights. Don’t worry about Ariadne’s Thread, Victor, he called back to Jade. "I’m on it! Hey there, princess. Any idea who I am?"

He asked with the easy confidence of someone who already knows they’re popular and was rewarded by the girl’s enthusiastic shriek. "Hades! You’re Hades! Mom! Look, it’s Hades!"

Jade receded back into the shadows, vanishing from notice or care and slipping into the next section of the park.

He would need full reports by night’s end, all the corpses needed to be cleared away, and he would insist on patrolling the entirety of Ariadne’s Thread before giving it the green-light.

It was going to be a very long night, but one way or another, despite how he felt about it, the park would be re-opening its most popular string of attractions once again.

Tomorrow would be a dangerous day to visit Pasty Grey’s Incredible Labyrinth.

Chapter 2

The air in the boys’ locker room was stifled with water particles left behind by hot showers and cold sweat. The future stars of the Friday Night Lights had already shuffled out in a noisy, teaming, swearing mass of people with somewhere better to be.

There were no witnesses here, but there could have been. This was the sort of place where being seen could make things more fun or last longer, so for once, Lukas Hall was grateful for the lonely silence of his corner of the world.

His elbows crashed into the floor, sending shockwaves up to his shoulders, but it was a dull pain that didn’t register much. His gaze fell on his jacket. It had been thrown down first and had already soaked up the standing water on the acid-blue tile floor.

Aw, Lukas... did you fall down, buddy?

He was hauled upright, looking everywhere but right into the dark eyes. Fingers curled in the hair by his ear, tugging his face up.

What’s wrong with you? You’re so freaked out. Oh wait... did you see Jordan and Tyler today?

Lukas tried not to flinch. He had seen Jordan and Tyler that morning. He had seen the way they slouched and limped down the hall after their shared summer class, Jordan holding his neck and Tyler favoring his right arm, both smelling vaguely of sour garbage. There were no visible bruises, just a small cut on Tyler’s lower lip, certainly nothing to draw notice, but it was there if anyone looked for it — if anyone cared, it was there.

Mostly, though, Lukas had seen the look in their eyes as they’d passed him in the hall. It wasn’t a cruel look, it wasn’t accusatory or angry or even hurt — but it said that they were done with him. Really, completely, done.

Guess they won’t be coming to your little birthday party after all, said Keith, wrenching Lukas’ attention back. Huh?

Jet laughed loudly and smacked Lukas on the shoulder.

Seriously, Keith? muttered Brenda Marr. She approached them carefully, picking her way between discarded boxer shorts and half-deflated water bottles. Why do I have to be here?

Keith threw her a look that somehow managed to be sensual and contemptuous at the same time.

"I thought you wanted to come, babe."

"You said you got tickets already. From his stupid friends."

Keith smacked the back of Lukas’ neck, making him jump.

Just figured you’d want to get your own ticket, you being an independent woman and shit.

Brenda shot him a scathing look, but when her gaze flicked to Lukas, her raspberry mouth quirked a little. She stamped her way over to them, a long-legged, cork-heeled goddess down here in this manly hole in the ground.

She curled a finger in front of Lukas’ face. He drew back.

Come on... she said coaxingly, almost like she was fond of him. Almost. Give it.

Lukas let out a small whimper, but he didn’t move.

Hey, said Brenda coldly. I said. Give. It.

With a sound like mud sucking at shoes, Lukas dropped to the floor and grabbed his jacket, digging frantically through the sopping pockets. He was aware that he was breathing too fast, that his wordless voice was high and terrified; water burned the corners of his eyes and snickers clawed up his back.

But he found the plastic card and held it up to Brenda.

H-here...

She snatched it out of his fingers with a sharp flick and a black-lined wink. Thanks, Lukey. She ruffled his hair and her long nails gouged his scalp. Aw, don’t look so glum. There was no way in hell Eva Weeks would give you the time of day, let alone come to some creepy loner’s freakin’ birthday party.

She stepped back, tucking the plastic ticket into her bra.

"We done? I wanna get out before all this gets into my pores."

Almost, said Keith.

Almost...

He gazed down at Lukas, circling slowly, dragging his feet, clearly making up something on the spot; something to prolong this moment of power he was enjoying. Lukas kept his eyes on the floor. He didn’t try to rise.

"Here’s the thing, Lukas. We were all a little hurt that you were gonna go off and have fun without us. What the hell, man? I thought we were your friends."

Brenda snorted. Bodyguards, more like.

Here’s the deal. We’ll come to your party since your friends can’t make it, but, see, uh... Avery wants to come too.

Lukas fought to keep his face calm, but inside he squirmed, he fought to breathe as muddy water poured down his throat.

Avery Platt, beloved quarterback and total bastard, was the image of a clichéd high-school bully. But that wasn’t what made him scary. He didn’t bully Lukas Hall; he barely knew he existed. He wasn’t even a person in Lukas’ world — rather he was a threat and a promise.

Avery had no interest in coming to his birthday party; he probably didn’t even know Keith was suggesting it. That wasn’t the point of Avery Platt.

I could— Lukas began, with more air than necessary.  Maybe... I could ask my aunt to get another ticket.

Keith chewed his lower lip disapprovingly. Oh, hey now, Lukey. He crouched down beside him, bracing his fingers against the wet tile floor and smearing the resulting moisture on Lukas’ jeans. Come on. That’s not fair to your old auntie, is it? She’s already working double-shifts at that slut house down on Anders, isn’t she? Don’t wanna go spending all her hard-earned money like that, right?

Lukas became nailed to the spot with sudden fury, but his cheeks burned with shame at his inability to act on it.

I don’t have any money...

It was pointless to say anything. This was how the game worked; the one Keith always played when he’d run out of new ways to have fun.

Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ll pay for Avery’s ticket. But... you’ll have to reimburse us. I mean, that’s only fair, right?

Lukas was a stranger in his own body. The world had become very, very white and air scrubbed his throat like sandpaper.

The point of Avery Platt, after all, was that he was a dummy for Keith to pull out whenever he wanted an excuse to beat the life out of Lukas Hall.

What would you say the exchange rate is, Jet? Two dollars for every hit he takes without squalling like a little baby?

Buck fifty, I’d say. Entertainment factor’s gone way down.

Keith whistled softly. Wow. That’s steep. You sure you can handle that much, Hall? You know those theme parks — they’re disgustingly overpriced.

Lukas tried to breathe and choked.

Oh, don’t look so scared, said Keith, seizing his collar and dragging him upright. We won’t do it right now, where’s the fun in that? Hey, you know what would be fun? Let’s wait until we’re at the park. Yeah... I’ll bet there are lots of places we could go there where we wouldn’t be in anyone’s way.

Brenda muttered something to Jet about charging admission.

Lukas tried to suck down another breath as Keith leaned in close. His face was like a mask to Lukas, and yet he knew that the other face — the face of Keith Bentley: rich, entitled, going places — was the real mask.

Only a select few people ever saw the true Keith, and Lukas was one of them. It was no use saying that they weren’t his friends, either. It was only because he had no one, was no one, that he was of any interest to them.

Keith grabbed his chin, jerking his face up. What d’you say, Lukas? Does that sound like fun to you? Amusement parks are all about the fun.

Lukas was drowning in the wet air and the world was white, white, white...

It used to be a mental institution, you know.

The new voice would have sounded jarring anyway, here in a land with no witnesses, but it was the words themselves that surprised Lukas more.

Mental institution.

It felt strangely apt.

Keith whirled to face the newcomer, a snarl already twisting his mouth. Who the hell—?!

The boy behind Keith was smaller than seemed reasonable, with a skinny frame that drowned beneath a giant white hoodie. Soft, stark-white hair wisped around his pale-pink face in a cloud, sweeping across large green eyes.

He looked insubstantial in the slowly dissipating mist, almost like a ghost. He opened his mouth to answer Keith’s question.

But Lukas was faster. Charlie?

The boy was undoubtedly Charlie Blake, though until that exact moment, his name had eluded Lukas. He knew him, but only in the way you ‘knew’ the other faces and names that passed you in school halls. Charlie was one of those people who didn’t take up much space in the world. He was short and quiet, and would slouch and shuffle his way through a school day without ever drawing attention to himself.

Keith gave him a look that dismissed his existence entirely.

I’m Charlemagne Blake, he said, with an earnest politeness that belonged to better parts of this school; parts that smelled of disinfectant and dry-erase marker. I’m Lukas’ friend.

The easy admission made Lukas freeze and Keith’s eyebrows sail. How many of these losers do you have clinging on, Lukas?

Charlie shrugged and Lukas stared, lacking the presence of mind to go along with this lie.

So, about Pasty Grey’s Incredible Labyrinth, Charlie said amiably, as though someone had asked. Years ago, before the park was built, the land where it sits used to be a mental hospital. Supposedly it was cursed and people went mad after just one visit, raving about man-eating monsters, violent spirits, blood in the walls, that sort of thing.

All eyes watched him, guarded, confused, and furious, but Charlie either didn’t notice or didn’t care, because he continued his report on the Labyrinth like it was due Wednesday.

Patients said they saw beasts in the shadows, huge insects crawling on their skin, and sometimes black-eyed people came to whisper secrets in their ears. No matter what ailment brought them to the hospital, they would eventually go mad, screaming about ghosts in the ceilings and fanged eels in their beds.

Charlie was suddenly very intent on picking at a loose thread at the bottom of his hoodie, continuing his narrative in a low, distracted mumble.

Eventually, people started getting hurt. They turned up with cuts, bruises, or worse, and the police had to get involved. Rumor was that the doctors were doing something unethical and using the patients for nasty experiments.

He kept tugging at the thread until part of the hem unraveled.

But then a cop lost his mind, raving that he’d seen a dragon in the basement. So they had to close up shop, sent the patients to other facilities, got a task force to investigate further — and then, one night, the hospital mysteriously caught fire and burned to the ground.

Charlie turned spring-green eyes on Keith, the picture of a tiny hamster gazing up at a Rottweiler.

"And then, seven years ago, they built Pasty Grey’s Incredible Labyrinth."

Keith met the boy’s open smile with a narrow, hostile gaze.

Kinda makes you wonder, said Charlie, flicking the loose thread off his finger, what secrets that park might be hiding.

Keith’s lips curled. What are you doing down here, punk?

Charlie shrugged again, a gesture that was nearly lost in his giant hoodie.

Looking for Lukas. We’re going to his party tomorrow.

Keith paused. You’re going to the Labyrinth, too?

Yeah. Lukas’ aunt gave me a ticket.

Lukas stared at him in mute confusion, but Keith smirked at Brenda, finally back on familiar ground.

"Okay, Charlemagne—"

Call me Charlie.

As it happens... we needed a spare ticket, and you got here just in time.

He held out his hand to Charlie, a brutal promise in the tilt of his chin. The boy shuffled back.

No way. I’m not giving it to you guys. Forget it.

It was not easy to catch Keith Bentley off-guard; he had a cruel reputation, six lackeys, and several of his daddy’s high-paid lawyers to keep that from ever happening. But Charlie Blake had managed to do it twice in the space of ten minutes.

As Keith stood there, hand outstretched and expectant, it seemed to dawn on him that he’d been had by this pint-sized intruder.

His fingers curled into a fist. His hand dropped to his side.

What.

Lukas’ aunt invited me, and I don’t back out on birthday invitations. Sorry.

Keith smirked thinly. You’re out of your mind. You should have your very own padded cell.

I did, said Charlie, dead serious and holding up his wrists. But my skinny arms kept slipping out of the straightjacket.

For some reason, Lukas heard the sound of Keith’s fist striking Charlie’s cheek long before he registered the action.

Charlie whipped around, slapping chest and palms first into the tiled wall below a rusty shower head. Keith was behind him in an instant, clamping his large hand down over the back of the boy’s neck and shoving his stomach into the wall. He let out a soft noise, sounding more startled than hurt, and this seemed to outrage Keith further. He snatched one of Charlie’s wrists and yanked his arm behind him, leaning in hard.

You’ve got a big mouth, bastard, snarled Keith, and Lukas watched with distanced dread as the other two pulled in behind