She said it all so matter-of-factly, like it was no big deal—but when she was finished her eyes looked a little glassy, like she might start crying.
“He’s an amazing boy,” my mom whispered, hugging her.
“He is,” Yelena agreed, burying her face in my mom’s hair.
What’s going on?
They were getting weirdly emotional—and completely ignoring me, the hero of the story! I rolled my eyes and left the room.
Honestly.
Hazel
I caught up with Tejus after the meeting. GASP and the sentries who had been present were piling out into the hallway, trying to relocate their rooms.
“Thanks for your support,” I murmured. “Do you think the water’s really the weapon that’s going to stop these creatures?”
Tejus looked at me. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and the glow from the candles made his cheeks look more gaunt than usual.
“I really hope so. I don’t have any other ideas.”
“Me neither. I always thought that if GASP ever came all our troubles would be over. I guess it was naive of me to think they’d just wave a magic wand and all this would go away.”
Tejus smiled at me gently.
“No. It’s good that you have faith—in your family, your friends. It’s just not always as easy as that. I wish it were.”
I nodded. Me too. My mom brushed my arm, getting my attention. She was standing with my dad, both of them looking beat.
“Get some rest,” I said, hugging her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too. I’m so proud of you and Benedict, Hazel.”
I said goodnight to my father, though it was only really dusk—the sun hadn’t completely set for the day, but with all that had happened in the last few hours, we all needed time to reset.
As they walked off my father whispered, “Where is Hazel sleeping? They’re not sharing a room yet, are they?”
I turned, cringing up at Tejus.
“He has a point.”
“Don’t start.” I shook my head. Tejus was as old-fashioned as the rest of them, but there was no way I would be parted from him—not tonight, or any other night to come.
We started to climb the staircase. On the second step, I paused, feeling a cold sense of dread unfurling in the pit of my stomach. I clutched the banister, suddenly feeling alone—like the candles had been blown out, the crowd of people gone, the hallways and rooms empty, echoing husks.
“Tejus?”
“I can feel it,” he replied, his hand taking mine. The touch brought me back to reality, but the fear was far from gone.
“Where is it?” I asked.
Without replying, Tejus grabbed me by the arm. We raced over to the front door. As we passed the crowd, everyone had gone quiet, frozen in their own, singular nightmares. We could all feel it.
“It’s coming.”
Benedict was standing in the doorway that led from the banquet hall, rooted to the spot – his eyes wide.
“He’s coming.”
Tejus pushed open the front doors. The ministers were still at their posts, surrounding the barrier. The guards all stood by their tents, the villagers too. They were all gazing up at the sky.
It looked just like it had before the meeting—the pinks and purples of the sunset blazing on the horizon, the blue of the sky moving from light to navy ink the higher it got.
Where are you?
The crowd had gathered behind Tejus and me. We slowly stepped out onto the terrace, our eyes searching the landscape, looking for the danger that we could feel. Remembering what Ash had said in the meeting, I kept my gaze fixed on the forest. It was so dark it was difficult to see. Aside from the very tops of the trees that were softly bathed in what little light we had left, the thickets of the forest were a little more than a black, indistinguishable mass.
Then the blackness started to move.
“It’s coming from the trees,” I breathed.
It moved so silently and fluidly, at first I thought it was my imagination. But the dark shadows of the trees had slowly seeped over the lawn, inching its way toward the barriers.
“Ash!” Tejus barked, making me jump. “We need more sentries and guards. Everyone, secure the barriers!”
The ministers already working jumped to attention, refocusing themselves away from the creeping horror to the strengthening of the only protection we had.
“I need to go down there and help. Stay here and be with your family?” Tejus turned to me, his dark eyes fixed on mine.
“No. I’m helping you. I’m a sentry. I can help maintain the barrier, and so can the witches from The Shade.”
Tejus growled, yanking his hand through his hair. Ash and the remaining ministers were already rushing past us down to the borders. “At the first sign that it might collapse, you run inside. Do you understand me?”
“I understand you.”
He nodded sharply. “God help me, Hazel—I’ll pay for the danger I’ve put you in one day.”
I ignored him and we ran down to where the other ministers and guards were standing. It wasn’t true that Tejus put me in danger—the first kidnapping instance, maybe, but after that it was all my own doing. I’d chosen to fight.
“Everyone spread out! Cover as much ground as you can!”
Tejus barked out commands, his voice splitting the cold evening air. I watched as he marched over to the witches, asking for their help. The sensation of dread and fear was getting stronger. I felt almost crippled by it—like a hand was grasping tightly at my heart, clamping my organs still. I was having difficulty breathing, my lungs and throat grabbing at the thin air.
At Tejus’s command, I lifted my hands up and closed my eyes. I tried to find the ball of energy I knew would be inside me, the bright light that was now part of me. The fear was distracting. I tried to ignore the spidery clutches of terror running across my body, concentrating on imagining energy, light—
There you are.
I found it. With everything I had, I threw the energy outward. Its electricity left the tips of my fingers, feeding itself as it dispersed, growing brighter and more brilliant inside of me.
I opened my eyes.
It was working. I could almost feel the barrier becoming stronger, its translucent skin building itself, becoming thicker and more solid.
I looked over at Tejus. He was standing to my left, his eyes fixed ahead as the shadows became longer, slowly working their way up the barrier, casting all of us in their darkness. His mouth was set in a grim line, and were it not for the slight tremors that ran through his muscled frame, I would have thought that this was costing him no effort at all. His face, the pronounced cut of his jaw and cheekbones, had almost entirely been swallowed by the gloom, but his eyes, as black as onyx, seemed to blaze like a cat’s in the dark.
“Hold steady,” he whispered.
I turned my gaze back to the barriers. The shadow was still lengthening across its surface, but I could feel our protection working. The horrible, fearful sensation was still present, but it wasn’t growing, it couldn’t hurt us.
Then the whispers started.
Low and indistinguishable, the voices felt like they were coming from the inside of my head—purring, curling soft sounds that should have been gentle, but were so discordant and filled with malice that I thought I’d go mad if they continued. My energy wavered, the gold light inside of me dimming.
“Hold on. Listen to my voice, Hazel!”
I swallowed, trying to tune into Tejus, like sorting through radio frequencies.
Stop! Stop whispering to me!
“It’s just sounds, they have no power over you. I know it sounds like they’re inside you, but they’re not, they’re just voices.” Tejus talked to me, his voice jagged and desperate, willing me to hold on.
It wasn’t just me who was slowly losing the will to fight back. I could feel the barriers becoming thinner as the rest of the sentries tried and failed to keep the whisper
ing at bay.
We needed more energy, more light.
“Mom! Dad!” I called out into the darkness, hoping that they weren’t far away.
“We’re here, Hazel—what can we do?” My mom answered me. She was only a few yards away—she and the rest of GASP must have stood by, watching the sentries and witches work, powerless to do anything else.
“I, we, need your energy—all of you. Will you let us syphon?”
“Anything. What do we do?” my father replied, sounding confused that I was somehow performing the same magic as the rest of the sentries.
“Just be willing,” I replied. “Tell the rest to do the same—each of you, as close as you can behind a sentry. Hurry!” I felt my light dimming.
A second later, my mom reached out and touched me gently on the shoulder.
“I’m here, Hazel.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” I whispered.
She didn’t say anything, but I felt her grip tighten on my shoulder. I closed my eyes, letting the hunger consume me, reaching out for my mother’s powerful energy. It was so pure and bright, just like Ruby’s was. As my energy leapt out to meet hers, I felt an outpouring of love, warm and comforting, flowing freely toward me—unconditional and as pure as her energy. I swallowed, feeling a lump in my throat. Of course, I had always known that my mother loved me, but to feel it, to have it cover me—smelling like our home, the trees in The Shade, the salt water from the sea—it made my heart ache.
I could see my dad and Benedict standing behind Tejus. They weren’t touching, but I could see that Tejus was growing stronger, feel the impenetrable wall of his energy growing strong.
It’s working!
The barriers started to thicken again. So powerful was the energy of the GASP members and the witches that were assisting, that the barrier was no longer translucent. It started to almost glow—a faint white hue coming off it that made me think of the immortal waters, and a sense that whatever gave the water its rejuvenation or healing properties, it also cleansed, washing away whatever darkness there was in this world.
Tejus turned toward me and smiled.
“Vampire energy?”
“Yep.” I grinned back.
“Impressive.”
“You’re welcome,” my father growled sarcastically, sounding very unsure about Tejus feeding off him. I guessed that most of the vamps would be disturbed by the sudden role-reversal.
The whispers had intensified, growing colder, more insidious, but I no longer paid them any attention. We could keep the shadow at bay. My mom’s energy felt never-ending, a deep well of light and power that would protect me for as long as I needed. I focused on the warmth of her love, and took another deep breath, pushing out all the energy I could.
Jenus
I lay with my cheek pressed against the cold stone, surrounded by my own filth. My breathing was labored and I had started to truly wonder if I was going to survive this dungeon. I hadn’t quite believed that my brother would leave me down here to rot, but perhaps I had been wrong. Perhaps I had underestimated how cold and ruthless he had become.
Without a doubt, something was happening above—the ministers the guards had requested had never come, and an hour previously, the extra sentries they’d brought down to watch me had all been called above. They had syphoned me aggressively before they left, taking every ounce of my energy. Leaving me close to death.
I no longer held out hope that my master was coming. What would he want with me? I was wretched, no better than an animal, sniveling on the floor, too weak to rise.
“What’s that?” one of the guards exclaimed suddenly, rising off the overturned barrel he was using as a chair. “Who goes there?” he called, swiveling around the room, then turning to look at his fellow guard with unease. No one replied.
A moment later I heard thumping from the corner of the room—something large and heavy was being dislodged. The stone floor trembled with the movement, barrels and crates being upturned.
“Announce yourself!” called the guard, unsheathing his broadsword and pointing it toward the barrels.
“Easy,” said the second guard, “easy—it might just be an animal.”
Both the guard and I turned to look at him with incredulous expressions.
Fool.
“That’s no animal,” the first guard replied angrily. “Nothing’s that strong!”
The second guard armed himself too, and they waited anxiously by my cage, their eyes darting over to my still figure every other second.
I laughed to myself. What did they think I could possibly do? I was as helpless as a newborn, and unless the noise was my master himself, I was done for.
A bang rocked the room, followed by the sound of a stone sliding heavily across the floor. Someone was coming in.
The guards instantly tried to syphon off the intruder, their faces contorted with the effort. It was having little effect. A large, heavy figure moved up from the darkness, stepping out into the gloom.
Master?
The guards started to scream. They fell to the ground, twitching and gasping, their swords forgotten in their outstretched hands. I tried to pull myself up, my arms trembling with the effort.
The figure stepped out into the light. I recognized her—a village woman, one who claimed to be some kind of apothecary.
“Jenus of Hellswan,” she noted with disgust, breaking the barriers that surrounded my cage with a single swipe of her hand.
“Who were you expecting?” I rasped, my mouth filling with bile at the disappointment. I had hoped I would be saved, but this woman was no friend of mine.
“You don’t look good,” she mocked.
“I look as well as can be expected. My foul brother has chained and drained me—what’s your excuse?”
She ignored my bitter comments, searching the bodies of the guards. Her large body moved with surprisingly agile speed as she sifted through their robes.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“Getting the keys to your little bird cage. This castle was the original safe house for the Acolytes. That”—she pointed to the hole from which she’d just emerged—“is a safe passage that will eventually lead us back to the temple—it was built centuries ago, and forgotten. Till now.”
The Acolytes.
Perhaps I was saved after all.
“For some reason,” the woman continued, “my master wishes you free, and so I am here doing his duty. Despite my personal feelings toward you.”
“I don’t care about your personal feelings.” I coughed, hacking up blood-tinged phlegm. “But I can’t walk out of here. You’ll have to let me syphon off you.”
“Absolutely not,” she retorted, jangling the keys in the palm of her hand. “Ah, here it is.”
She bent down toward the lock, her ginormous behind protruding into the air as she fiddled with the key.
“If you’re a servant of the master, then you are a servant of mine!” I started to syphon off her, but I was too weak. She laughed, returning the favor. I squealed, falling back onto the stone floor.
“Control yourself,” she snapped. “As soon as they realize the shadow is a diversion, they’ll come to check on you. We are running out of time as it is.”
She unlocked the door, letting it swing open, but then returned to the hole in the floor, waiting by it expectantly, her irritation evident.
“I was being honest,” I whimpered. “I can’t move. You will have to carry me.”
“Get up!” she said.
“Where is our master?” I cried, hating this wretched woman who he had sent in his place. All the Acolytes I had known had been of some standing—ministers, lieutenants and commanders—not simple-minded medicine women. “Why did he send you?”
“If you don’t stop complaining I will leave you here, no matter what the master says. I will happily take your place!”
At her threat, I struggled onto my elbows, then grabbed hold of the bars, using them to pull my limp
body into a standing position.
“Fortunately for you, the tunnel is small—you can crawl most of the way.”
I gritted my teeth, unable to speak.
“Come on! Our master waits most impatiently! Every moment you spend in here you delay his plans and our day of glory!”
My day of glory.
My bones feeling like rubber, I stumbled toward her. The room spun, my own sweat falling down onto my lips with the effort.
“You smell entirely foul,” she added, gagging. I reached out, using her podgy arm for support, but she shook me off.
“Crawl,” she spat.
I nodded, staring down into the black hole, just large enough for me to enter. If I’d had the energy, I would have laughed. I had absolutely no idea how she had managed to crawl through it in the first place.
“Now!” she screamed. “They’ll know where we’ve gone. We have to hurry, or they’ll chase us down in the tunnel!”
“I…am…moving,” I exhaled, sliding my body further down into the dirt.
“The shadows will give us cover at the cove,” she added, heaving her body into the hole, legs first. “Just pray that we get there in time—your brother has been joined by a supernatural fighting force of some kind. We can’t be too careful.”
A supernatural fighting force?
Perhaps the woman was truly as mad as she looked. A heavy clunk sounded as the stone was replaced, and we were submerged in complete darkness.
Derek
I was starting to feel a similar sensation to the one I had experienced when the woman from the tower drained us of energy—the gray dots dancing about my vision, and the light-headed, woozy effect which indicated I was on my way to losing consciousness. The only difference was, it never happened. The sentry syphoning off me, a robed minister who had attended the meeting, seemed to maintain a precarious balance of his energy supply—never draining me too much, keeping his supply constant. Begrudgingly, I had to admit that it was impressive.
“Derek, you okay?” Lucas asked me.
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