This was the first Le Guin book I read, out of sequence, in seventh grade. I was drawn in first by the gorgeous cover art by Rebecca Guay, and then by the story. Arha was taken from her family at five years old and has lived since then in a dusty, dry world of ritual and ceremony in the middle of the desert. She is the reincarnation of the high priestess of the nameless dark powers of the Earth. Her birthright is a rough black robe, a never ending and never changing series of dances, prayers, chants, sacrifices; and access to the Tombs, a vast network of underground caves and tunnels forming a labyrinth whose turning she memorizes. The labyrinth is a terrible place and I loved it so much. Labyrinths have always held a very poignant place in my imagination, based on several vivid childhood encounters. In the end, the labyrinth becomes a place that Arha needs to escape and seeks to destroy; but as a teen, I half wanted her (and myself) to just stay there forever. To me at age 12, the confining, but well-known, patterns of Arha's life and the turns of the labyrinth seemed less scary and maybe preferable to the total disruption that her growth and freedom required.