Okay.
“And be careful!” I called out after him.
I didn’t have a good feeling about this.
It suddenly occurred to me that Tejus hadn’t asked if he could syphon off me before the trial…why didn’t he ask?
Why didn’t you offer! I scolded myself. I knew I wasn’t allowed at the trials, but it didn’t mean that I couldn’t help out in other ways.
Not knowing what else to do, I turned my attention to the books on the table. I wanted to find the image of the rune again—it obviously meant something specific, and if I could find the translation, it could be a way for us to understand Varga’s death.
I had also started to wonder about the whispering voice that we heard in the tower. It reminded me of the Elders, the ‘original’ vampires who had spoken to our kind in a similar way, heard but never seen…but Elders were a thing of the past now. They’d been weakened practically to the point of extinction—partly thanks to my uncle, Ben. Besides, what would an Elder be doing in a land with no vamps? That wouldn’t make any sense… though perhaps it wasn’t too far-fetched to imagine that the sentries had an equivalent ‘original’. In many ways they were similar to the vampire species. They just consumed pure energy, rather than blood. Maybe that was the ‘entity’—the creator of the sentries or the first sentry, locked in the stones?
I flicked through the books. Nothing I’d read so far mentioned an original power, and without evidence my theory didn’t really stand up to scrutiny.
Reaching for the largest volume, I pulled it toward me, determined to stop speculating and start focusing on the information we actually had.
Soon it was pitch-black outside, so cloudy and overcast that not a single star shone. I lit the candles on the table and fetched a robe from Tejus’s room. I wrapped it around myself—it was so large, I could do it twice. It smelt like him, musky and manly. I inhaled deeply, glad no one was there to witness my love-struck behavior.
Get a grip.
I returned to the book. After studying the impossibly small text, cramped notes and diagrams that only seemed to talk of farming techniques, I felt my eyelids start to droop. The flickering candlelight was making me drowsy, and soon the letters were swimming and blurring on the page.
Just a little rest, I promised myself.
I must have fallen into a deep sleep. When I woke, the candles had burned down to their wick, and only the faint glow of the torches were left to fight off complete darkness. Through the fog of sleep, I realized that something had woken me—but what? I looked around the room, but could see nothing.
“Tejus?” I whispered, thinking that perhaps he’d returned while I’d slept. No, he would have woken me.
Then I heard a faint scratching at the door. It sounded as if it was coming from the bottom of the frame, and I wondered if it was mice.
“Hello?” I called, remembering with relief that there were guards out there. But no one answered me. The scratching continued, more urgent now. It sounded more like fingernails, small ones, running up and down the bottom of the wood.
“Hello? Guards?” I called again, my voice wavering slightly.
“There aren’t any here.”
My brother’s voice sounded through the door, faint but definitely his.
“Benedict?” I gasped, hurrying to the door. I placed my ear against the frame, my palms flat on the cool surface of the wood.
“Hazel, you need to let me in,” he whimpered. “It’s dark out here. You need to let me in.”
I swallowed, a gnawing sickness pulling at the pit of my stomach.
“I c-can’t do that…I promised Tejus I wouldn’t open the door.”
He went silent, and I closed my eyes.
Don’t make me do this. Please, don’t make me do this.
“But I’m your brother—why won’t you help me?” His voice came again, low and pleading.
I took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Benedict, where are the guards?” I asked.
“They’re not here. They left. They don’t care about protecting you, but I do. We’ve always stuck together, you and me, Hazel. Mom told you to look after me. Can you imagine how upset she’d be if she knew that you’d left me?”
That’s not my brother.
Benedict wouldn’t manipulate me that way, not in a million years.
“You need to leave,” I sobbed. I couldn’t bear this. “You’re not my brother. I know you’re not my brother!”
“Hazel! Please—you don’t know what you’re saying. It’s Tejus, playing tricks…he’s turned you against me. I love you, Hazel. I am your brother!” he wailed, the scratching on the door becoming louder.
Tears ran down my cheeks.
I turned away from the door, but was unable to leave.
“I’m going now,” I whispered. “I have to go.”
“Why are you being so horrible?” Benedict cried out, sounding confused and upset.
I couldn’t answer him. I knew what he was—I knew that my brother wasn’t behind the door…but at the same time, somewhere in that creature, my brother remained. I didn’t know how much of him was present, if at all. But I couldn’t bring myself to abandon him completely.
“I love you, Benedict,” I said, addressing the empty room, repeating it softly like it was a mantra, hoping that somewhere my brother was getting the message.
“THEN OPEN THE DOOR!” The bellow made me jump out of my skin, and I scrambled away from the door. He started to bang against the wood, as if he were throwing his entire body weight against it.
Are the barriers still in place?
I didn’t think they were, which meant there was only a lock standing between me and the entity. Why wasn’t he blowing down the door, like he’d done earlier when we were in the tower?
The stones.
Had Benedict not been able to pick another from the lock?
“LET ME IN!”
The creature roared again. It now sounded nothing like my brother, the voice hoarse and full of rage, as if bile were streaming from its mouth. I hurried to my feet, determined to put as much space between me and the entity as possible. I thought about running up to the tower - trying to break the lock with one of the old weapons, but that would leave me even more exposed. My old room. I scurried to the small door of Tejus’s secret room and pulled it open. I had never before been so glad to see the emerald green glow of Tejus’s mind-stones.
I slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside.
Curling up into a small ball, I crept into the furthest corner and wished with all my might that Tejus would return home soon.
Tejus
We set off on the vultures once more, this time heading for Ghouls’ Ridge. Lithan and Qentos didn’t bother speaking to me as we saddled the birds, and I was grateful for their silence. As anxious as I was about the trials ahead, I was also determined to speak to Ash before the task got underway. I had forgotten about Hazel’s friend, the one who had been with Varga. Hazel assumed she was still at the Seraq kingdom, and I hadn’t dissuaded her of the notion. But if Ruby had stayed with Varga that morning, then I dreaded to think where she might now be.
When we alighted at the Ridge, I saw that the Impartial Ministers were already gathered, as were the rest of the royal contenders. I scanned the crowd for Ash and saw him standing at the periphery of the group, studying the Impartial Ministers intently.
“Some say they are immortal,” I commented, following his gaze as I approached.
He glanced back at me.
“You don’t believe that?” he retorted.
“No, I do not. They are just old.”
He nodded, still looking speculative.
“Your human, Ruby—where is she?” I asked, getting to the point before I was ushered away for the trials.
“What do you mean?” he replied swiftly. “She is meant to be with you and Hazel in Hellswan…”
He trailed off as he saw my expression.
“Where is she??
?? he asked with gritted teeth.
“She is not at the castle,” I muttered. “Memenion said she was with Varga…I do not know where she is now.”
Ash’s face turned whiter than usual, and he stared up at me beseechingly.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know,” he gasped. “Don’t tell me that you don’t know where she is.”
I turned away from him. The Impartial Ministers were calling for the trials to start.
“We will find her,” I called back over my shoulder. I knew I probably appeared indifferent to the kitchen boy, but I was not. Hazel would be devastated if anything should happen to her friend…
I looked over to Queen Trina. She smiled at me, clearly having recovered her confidence after this morning. It did not matter. I would get to the bottom of my friend’s death, and if Queen Trina’s name was so much as whispered in connection with it, no matter how loose the link, her smile would be removed from her face.
I smiled back at her.
The Impartial Ministers began with their speeches, and I half listened as I observed the ferocious winds that whipped up from the caverns to run across the perilous ridge. I knew that tonight’s trial would not be easy—not for any of us.
“Kings and queen of Nevertide, the second trial commences. It has been designed to test your bravery, wisdom and strength against creatures long forgotten in our land. The creatures that you will encounter are mere shadows of what they once were, but remain deadly, and so we beseech you—do not underestimate them.” With the warning still echoing across the cold night, the Impartial Ministers turned and headed off across the ridge.
We followed behind them in single file.
A minister passed us each a torch as we embarked on the rocky path; it was insufficient light for such a place, and I once again wondered at the sanity of the ministers, and their dangerous, foolhardy methods of testing our worth.
The wind almost knocked me off my feet as I trudged on behind the ministers and the rest of the royals. Hazel had been right. My energy was not what it should have been. The entity had taken too much, leaving me exposed to the effects of the last few days. In truth, I was exhausted.
The gusts blew more forcefully, and the royals and ministers ahead began to lower themselves closer to the ground to better maintain their balance. We reached the other side crawling on our hands and knees like animals, clutching on to the rocks beneath our hands for dear life.
“Rise!” the Impartial Ministers called out to us as we reached the other side of the ridge. I grunted at them in disgust, swiftly growing tired of their imperious manner toward us all. I was about to curtly remind them to hold their tongues when I saw something moving in the thick mists.
I recognized it as one of the loathsome creatures that my father had made us battle in his labyrinth. Glancing to the left, I saw four more, each wailing and screeching inside mind-barriers, fixing us with dead stares that sent shivers running down my spine. They looked like dead things, long withered, leaving barely more than their skeletal form with thin tufts of hair dangling from their skulls and claws like razors. I had thought at the time of my father’s test that he had taken these creatures from another dimension…yet the ministers had just insinuated that they were indigenous to this land. Other than my father’s trial, I had never come across these creatures before.
“What are these abhorrent creatures?” King Memenion cried, jerking backward.
“Your enemies,” the Impartial Ministers replied, staring smugly at the looks of horror and disgust prevalent on the faces before them. “Each of you will battle one of these beasts and emerge victorious to remain in the running for emperor.”
That seems easy enough, I thought, recalling how Hazel and I had demolished them the last time. What had she called them? Ghouls. I might have been tired, and running on depleted energy, but as loathsome as these things were, I didn’t anticipate the task would get the better of me.
“But you must battle them alone, without your sentry powers. Remember this is not a test of your skill set, but a test of your inner qualities.”
What?
How would we manage to combat these creatures without mental power? They didn’t even look as if they were fully solid. I was apparently not the only one enraged at the news—King Thraxus was shouting at one of the ministers, his rage betraying the fear he was trying to obscure from the rest of us.
“I do not see the point of a trial without our powers,” announced Queen Trina. “And clearly I am at a disadvantage, being the only female here.”
I almost laughed out loud at her dishonesty. I had seen Trina fight—in practice only, but she was deadly. As swift as a coiled cobra, she had deadly accurate aim and her viciousness was insurmountable.
“Enough!” One of the Impartial Minister jammed a staff into the ground. “The trial is not up for discussion—you will participate or be taken out of the running. The choice is yours.”
“If we all refuse to take part, there will be nothing that they can do,” King Thraxus countered.
“Thraxus, please,” I replied wearily. “Let us begin this—I want to return to my home. These creatures are not beyond us…I promise you they are not.”
Thraxus eyed me sharply, no doubt wondering how I could say that with such authority. I could see the cogs turning in his head—he was growing suspicious, believing that I had some sort of informant or had been given a heads-up on the trial.
“He is right.” Memenion sighed. “Let us end this. I will take the risk in order to leave this damned place.” He glanced around him, shaking off the unsettling winds and mists, more wary of the weather than the creatures caged in front of us.
“Then we shall begin,” the minister responded, relieved. No one else objected.
A moment later, I felt the sensation of cold fingers reaching inside my skull.
Not again.
I hadn’t realized that the ministers would syphon off our powers—I thought they only meant that we would not be permitted to use them. The power of the ministers was nothing compared to that of the entity, but even so, the syphoning was aggressive and painful. The more they persisted, the more I felt my insides begin to grow cold. The syphoning was also more targeted than I’d ever experienced, like they were specifically ferreting out my powers, finding the pockets of energy that contained my abilities. Anything that might help me in the fight against these grotesque creatures, gone.
I stumbled to my knees, feeling a wave of despair rising up within me. It felt like the Impartial Ministers had scooped out my very soul, leaving me limp and lifeless—purposeless in the dark, clinging mists of the mountain.
The ministers stood back, barricading themselves behind their own mental shield. With a flash, the boundaries that had held the ghouls vanished. It took a moment for the creatures to realize they had been freed. When they did, their eyes flashed with greed and malice, drool seeping from their mouths as they eyed their fleshy meals.
I had less than a moment to decide whether I wanted to live or die.
The bleakness within me leaned toward giving up, allowing the creatures to destroy what little of me there was left. But I thought of Hazel, waiting at the castle for me to return victorious. The ministers had taken everything within me, but they hadn’t taken her.
I unsheathed my sword.
There were five ghouls, and each had begun to approach their chosen royal. Mine moved swiftly, clawed hands outstretched. They all screeched wildly—a blood-curdling sound that reverberated through the valleys and mountain.
I lunged forward with my sword level with the creature’s heart, but it side-stepped quickly, missing my blade. It dashed behind me, shark-like teeth bared in a grimace as it attempted to latch onto my calf. I slashed again with my sword, bringing it down in an arc as I twisted away from the creature. It shot off again, its bony body writhing and twisting in the air as it swung around to attack again. This time I was ready for it, and as it zoomed toward me again, arms outstretched, my sword flew thro
ugh the air. It sliced neatly through the brittle bone of its wrist, and the clawed hand flew from its owner. Black ichor seeped from the gaping wound, and the ghoul screeched loudly, its jaw descending and exposing more of its razor-sharp teeth. It moved to lunge for me again, but then froze.
The sounds of battle that I had been dimly aware of ceased completely, and all five ghouls began to retreat.
Have we won?
The creatures gathered together, back where they had been ensnared by the boundaries. Their eyes were full of malice—taunting, waiting. I risked a glance at Memenion and our eyes met for the briefest second, his as confused and wary as mine. All five of us readied our weapons. For a few moments all I could hear was the collective panting of us all and my own, erratic heartbeat.
They’re regrouping.
The second the realization hit me, the group of ghouls all shrieked, flocking toward King Thraxus. He had been as poised and ready as the rest of us, but I could see instantly that the attack had caught him off guard. He had expected one ghoul, not all five of them. He cried out in surprise. I ran toward him.
It was too late.
The ghouls fell upon his body, knocking him backward. I heard the heavy, wet tear of flesh, and then looked away briefly as the claws dug into the contents of King Thraxus’s stomach.
The next moment, mayhem ensured. The remaining contenders leapt toward the feasting ghouls. My sword came into contact with another limb, and as it reeled back in agony, Queen Trina plunged her dagger into its neck, slicing cleanly through the flesh. It rolled off, and she went to work dismembering the rest of its parts. No sooner was one dispatched than another groped at my leg, its claws catching in the leather of my boots. I kicked it, plunging my sword downward, but it was too quick, zooming away from the blade.
There were only four left, but they seemed to be everywhere at once. Another came toward me from the side. It was unexpected—I was watching the advance of another, and swung around just in time to see the creature sliced in half. Memenion smiled grimly at me.
I took the opportunity to glance over at the Impartial Ministers. They looked terrified. Clearly something had gone very, very wrong here. They were focused on the ghouls, clearly trying to control the creatures with their minds—but it wasn’t working.