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Twin silver wolves emerged from the stone at either end of the bath, their mouths open as though they were mid-howl. Water poured from between their teeth when I twisted the handles, though Thalia’s warning proved accurate immediately.

The water that emerged was brown.

I stared at it.

The wolves stared back.

“Well, that’s not concerning at all.”

Thankfully, after a minute or so the color cleared, becoming crystal clear as it rushed into the drain. Once I was reasonably certain I wasn’t about to bathe in centuries of forgotten pipe sediment, I pushed the stopper into place and began filling the bath.

While the water rose, I wandered over to the enormous sink carved into the opposite wall.

Unlike anything I had ever seen before, the basin appeared to have been hollowed from a single crystal slab, its edges polished smooth while natural silver veins remained trapped within the stone like frozen lightning. A matching mirror hung above it, framed by carved branches and silver leaves.

I froze when my reflection looked back at me.

Jesus Christ, I looked awful.

Ash covered half my face. Dirt streaked my skin. Dried blood stained my neck and collarbone, while my hair looked as though it had spent the last week fighting a war rather than surviving one.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

My gaze drifted towards the cut on my throat, and the sight of it made me wince. Lazaros’s blade hadn’t cut deeply, but seeing the angry red line stretching across my skin was enough to send a shiver through me. A few inches lower, and things could have ended very differently.

I dampened a cloth beneath the running water and carefully began wiping away the dried blood. The wound stung immediately.

“Great,” I muttered to myself, although the reflection looking back at me didn’t seem particularly sympathetic.

By the time I’d finished cleaning my face, the bath was nearly full.

Rows of elegant glass bottles lined a nearby shelf, each one completely unlabeled because apparently nobody in Theïkós believed in useful things like names.

I picked up the first bottle and uncorked it.

Flowers.

The second smelled like pine forests after rain.

The third made my eyes water.

“Definitely not shampoo."

Eventually, I found something that smelled clean enough to plausibly belong in a bath and poured a generous amount into the water. Another bottle released the scent of lavender and citrus, so I added a few drops of that too before deciding I’d probably done enough experimenting for one day.

The bathwater was already steaming invitingly by the time I finally stepped inside. The first touch of warmth against my skin nearly made me groan aloud. Every aching muscle immediately protested before slowly surrendering to the heat.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to relax.

Actually relax.

The heat seeped into places I hadn’t even realized hurt, easing tension from my shoulders, my back, and my legs as I slowly sank deeper beneath the water.

For several long minutes, I just lay there.

No monsters.

No labyrinth.