The metallic taste of blood lingered in Keno's mouth as he stirred back to consciousness, his mind swimming in a foggy disarray. His nose, a mess of pain and broken cartilage, throbbed mercilessly. Yet beneath the haze of agony, he felt a jolt of relief. Somehow, he was still alive.
Jessica Silverstone, the Guardian he'd managed to outwit, was seated nearby. Her attention was wholly absorbed in a small booklet, its cryptic pages illuminated in the ghostly light that pervaded this otherworldly labyrinth. She seemed oblivious to his awakening, and Keno, sensing an opportunity, feigned unconsciousness. His breaths remained steady and shallow, a tactic from his brigand days when playing dead was often a useful survival tool.