In frustration, I slammed a fist into the wall. A loud juddering noise seemed to shake the entire structure of the tunnel, and then the wall started to move. This time it was like the axis was in the middle of the wall. It spun around, leaving enough space on either side of it for me to slip through. I moved quickly, afraid that it was going to shut on me again.
As soon as I was on the other side, it thudded back into position, locking off the tunnel I’d just come from. I looked around. I was back in the castle. I recognized the narrow corridor, the crumbling walls and the cobwebs that decorated its corners. I started to run, my heart hammering—I was going to be okay…
Bursting through the wooden door, l landed on the other side, almost crying with relief to see the familiar red carpets and gray stone of Hellswan castle. I slammed the door shut behind me, and, without waiting a moment to catch my breath, I took off—headed in the only direction I could think to go.
I didn’t want to see anyone.
I didn’t want to try to explain.
I passed the emperor’s room and then went further down the corridor, where another door would lead me down the stone steps and into the servants’ quarters. A few surprised sentries glanced my way as I rushed past, but I ignored them, not stopping till I reached Ash’s old room.
I climbed onto the bed, not bothering to change out of my wet clothes. I grabbed the thin blanket and wrapped it round me, clutching the pillow tightly in my fist.
I lay there, shaking, and praying that I would stay awake.
Ruby
We traveled back on Ash’s bull-horse, soon leaving the bright sunshine of Queen Trina’s kingdom for the gloomy clouds that loomed ahead. The clouds seemed to be thickest in the distance, above the Hellswan kingdom.
“Home sweet home, right?” Ash smirked.
I chuckled grimly, wondering why Hellswan always seemed to be so constantly gloomy and drab—it was a stark difference from the kingdom we’d just come from.
“Was it always like this?” I asked Ash.
“Gray?”
“Well, yeah, I guess so.”
“Always,” he said. “You might see some of the other kingdoms in time—none of them are like Hellswan. I don’t know why it’s like that. The old villagers, the ones I remember as a kid, always used to say that it was plagued by a great evil… I always thought they meant Jenus,” he mused, laughing. “But as I grew up I realized that Jenus was a product of Hellswan’s misery, not the cause of it.”
I leant my head back against Ash, enjoying our last few moments together in solitude before we returned to the castle and the hordes of human kids that populated it. The sway of the bull-horse was making me sleepy, but I fought my tiredness, watching the landscape go past, content for a while.
“Are you going to think about coming back with me to the Seraq kingdom?” Ash asked me softly, his warm breath skating across the top of my head.
“I can’t, Ash,” I murmured. “You know I can’t leave Benedict or Hazel. And I want to continue looking for Julian—he’s got to be out here somewhere.”
Ash didn’t reply, but I knew he understood.
“Will you think about it?” he asked eventually.
“I’ll think about it,” I agreed, knowing that I would never reach a different conclusion. I wanted to be with Ash, and I hated the thought of abandoning him to Queen Trina’s kingdom alone, but I couldn’t leave my friends. Especially with Julian gone. We needed to stick together.
The valley flattened out on the horizon, and I could see the start of Hellswan village in the near distance.
“Almost there,” Ash sighed.
I took one of his hands off the reins and pulled it toward me, wrapping it more tightly around my waist. I wanted to make the moment last as long as I could. Tonight Ash would be packing, and tomorrow he would be leaving me. I didn’t even want to think about it.
As we reached the first house of the village, there was a huge clap of thunder. It startled the horse, but Ash managed to calm him just before he broke into a canter. I looked up at the sky; it looked like the heavens were about to open.
“Great,” I murmured.
The first drops plopped down, one hitting my head, and then the other landing on the back of my hand.
“Eugh!” I cried out. “It’s red!”
Ash grabbed my hand, looking at it intently.
“That’s weird,” he muttered.
The rain started to cascade down, coloring the pathway and the houses either side in a bright, bloody crimson.
“What is this?” I asked in disgust.
“Probably pollution,” Ash replied, though he didn’t seem entirely confident in his assessment. Neither was I—as a girl who had been brought up in The Shade, weird weather like blood-red rains didn’t mean anything normal or good.
“Do you think we should wait it out?” I asked, looking at some of the barns either side of us longingly.
“I don’t know…it doesn’t seem to be anywhere close to stopping.”
I looked up at the dark thunderclouds above us. He was right—it wouldn’t be subsiding anytime soon. It was so dark that it looked like the middle of the night. All around us we could hear doors and shutters slamming against the rain, and the panicked cries and yelling of the village inhabitants as they realized what was happening.
“Hold on tight,” Ash announced. “I think we just need to get to the castle as soon as possible, and get out of this. It might be poisonous for all we know.”
I clutched at the saddle tightly as Ash dug his heels into the flanks of the bull-horse.
We raced to the castle, the clattering hooves spraying the red water everywhere, drenching me to the bone.
Ash slowed to a trot as we approached the portcullis. It was up, which was strange, but perhaps there had been such an influx of sentries seeking shelter that they’d just adopted an open-door policy for the evening.
Before walking over the bridge, Ash descended, taking the bull-horse by the reins. I looked up at the castle; every single light seemed to be blazing—it was the first time I’d seen the place actually look busy and like a fully operational castle.
“What the hell?” Ash yelled from the portcullis.
“What’s up?” I asked, jumping down.
“There’s a damn barrier up, that’s what!” Ash kicked the air angrily, and I saw a slight tremor ripple where there shouldn’t have been anything.
“What? Why would they put up a barrier?” I asked, confused.
“I don’t know!” Ash flung his arms in the air in a gesture of helpless frustration. “Just because they can?”
He pushed at the borders again.
“Open UP!” he hollered.
I went back toward the bull-horse and picked up some small stones by the start of the bridge. I walked back up to Ash, and handed him a few.
“See how high the borders go,” I suggested.
We both threw the stones into the air as high as we could. They bounced back. The border appeared to cover the whole of the castle.
“This is Tejus,” Ash roared, “that stupid Hellswan bastard.”
“I don’t know, Ash. Hazel would kick up a storm if he did something like this, and why would he want to put borders up around the castle? We’re not under any threat, are we?”
“Of course not,” Ash replied. “But I’m sure he has his own, selfish reasons for doing so.”
With a grunt of frustration, Ash headed back toward the bull-horse.
“What are we gonna do?” I asked, joining him. “Can you not call someone like Jenney, like through a sentry mind trick?”
Ash shook his head.
“I can’t do that through the barriers. I can’t even use True Sight. Nothing works. It blocks off everything.”
He started to pace up and down, then stopped and looked up at the sky.
“We should head back to Queen Trina,” Ash said, turning back to me with his arms folded.
I opened my mouth to say something, a
nd then thought better of it. I didn’t exactly relish the thought of spending the night in a barn, and at least in the luxury of the Seraq kingdom there would be hot baths, clean clothes and some food.
“Fine,” I stated, inwardly groaning at the lack of appealing choices we had. “Let’s go.”
Ash lifted me back on the bull-horse and climbed on behind me. I already felt exhausted by the thought of the return ride.
Why on earth were those stupid borders in place? Had the ministers revolted or something, leaving Tejus and Hazel unable to do anything to remove them? I didn’t like the thought of Hazel and Benedict locked inside that castle one bit…and I liked the thought of being at the mercy of Queen Trina even less.
Hazel
When I reached Tejus’s rooms I slammed the door shut behind me, my chest heaving with painful gasps. I was soaked through. As I looked down at my robe and hands, it looked like I’d just been part of a mass slaughter, everything covered in streaks of red which was starting to turn sticky—just like blood.
Needing to get clean, but too worried about Benedict to think straight, I stumbled over to the windows that provided a view directly over the courtyard. Torches had been lit along the walls of the castle, though they flickered as they tried to stay alight beneath the torrents of rain. Tejus was still out there, shouting orders at the ministers as they all stood in a line, clasping hands while they tried to lift the barriers.
I looked out toward the forest, but it was just a great big lump of black and I couldn’t distinguish a single tree, let alone hope to catch sight of my brother. I couldn’t believe that Benedict had done something so stupid and reckless. Yes, he was a teenage boy and could be immature at times… but this? It wasn’t like him at all. Obviously Julian’s disappearance had hit him hard, and I tried to keep in mind that had it been Benedict missing I would have behaved in exactly the same way…and if it wasn’t for the barriers, I’d be out in the forest myself.
Reluctantly moving away from the window, I left the living room to have a bath. The hot water was blissful, but when I’d finished the entire tub was dyed red—but at least I was clean. I took a towel and wrapped it around me, not knowing what to do with my clothes. I left them in a wicker basket by the door, feeling sorry for the servants who would be doing the castle’s washing over the next few days. It wasn’t going to be pretty.
Back in my room I found some of the sentry outfits that I’d worn for the trials, slipping on some black silk pants and a matching shirt. I smirked ruefully in the mirror. Great. Tejus and I would be wearing matching his ’n’ hers outfits.
I peered out of the window again, looking to see if they’d made any progress on the barriers. There were fewer ministers out there now, and the line looked much more jumbled—some standing, some sitting, a few leaning against each other in exhaustion. I watched as one minister toppled backward, unable to remain upright a moment longer.
Tejus started to wave his arms around. I didn’t realize what he was doing until the ministers started to disband. He was calling for a break.
What? No!
Selfishly, I didn’t want them to stop. I could see that they were barely able to hold on anymore, but I felt that this was partly their fault. Had they known more about the entity, been just a little more cautious about a malevolent power they had supposedly locked inside their castle, then none of this would have happened. We would be home by now.
A few moments later, Tejus came into the living room.
“They had to rest,” he announced, before I could say anything.
Tejus looked just as bad as I had—the only difference being that I had looked like the victim of some hideous slaughter, whereas Tejus looked more like the culprit. It appeared as if he’d been swimming in blood, not an inch of skin spared, and his black-red hair hanging in sodden tendrils by his face.
“I know,” I replied, sighing. “I saw some of them fall—but they’ll go back out again, right?”
“They will. It might be easier when the rain stops.”
“I take it you think the spirit is causing the rain?” I asked.
He nodded, his face grave.
“I also think that this is going to get worse before it gets better.”
“Do you mean the other plague stuff that was mentioned in the book?” I asked, my voice tight.
“Yes.”
Which meant we had the ‘fires of ice’ and the ‘pestilence of silence’ still to come, thanks to the mysterious spirit that had helped lock the entity up in the first place.
“We need to find the stones,” I murmured, placing my forehead against the coolness of the window pane. It was our only chance…without them we were next to useless.
“I need to take a bath,” Tejus muttered. “Then I suppose we look through the books again, see if any of the ministers were more helpful than the lot I currently have.”
I was about to vehemently agree when something caught my eye outside.
“It’s Ruby, and Ash!” I cried, banging on the window. Tejus strode over and we watched as the two stood in front of the portcullis, unable to get through. Even from this distance I could see Ash’s fury as he waved his arms around up at the castle.
“We need to go to the roof!” I realized my banging wouldn’t be heard over the noise of the storm, and getting to the entrance of the castle would take too long.
“And say what?” Tejus asked, grumbling, but he was following me out of the room and up the steps that led to the tower.
I wasn’t actually sure what we would say, but as long as Ruby knew I was safe then that would be something. Maybe she and Ash could keep an eye out for Benedict—or search for him in my place.
I thundered up the steps, and when I reached the entrance to the tower I leaned as far as I dared over the parapet and called down to them as loudly as I could.
“RUBY!”
I waved my arms around, hoping that if they couldn’t hear me, they might see me at the very least. The wind carried my voice away, and neither of them looked up to the tower.
“Are there torches here?” I asked, looking around to see if there was anything I could throw down to the courtyard.
“Hang on,” Tejus replied, disappearing back down the stairs.
I continued calling, but it was pointless—I was too far away.
A second later, Tejus returned with a lit torch that hissed and fizzled in the rain, and as I was about to throw it down to the ground, Ash and Ruby started to walk away.
“We need to go down! Quickly!” I yanked at Tejus’s arm.
“Hazel, they’ve gone.”
Argh!
I banged a fist against the stone parapet in frustration. Why couldn’t we catch a break? I was drenched to the bone once again, and the small window of opportunity that had opened to me was now closed.
We descended the staircase in silence. I wondered why I’d been making so many wrong judgment calls lately—I felt like every time Nevertide and the sentries threw up a problem I did my best to overcome it, but always ended up falling short. I desperately wished that my parents and the rest of the GASP team were here; they could help. At least one of our team probably even had knowledge of creatures like the entity and the other mysterious creature that had locked it away…and they wouldn’t be running around like a headless chicken, letting their emotions get in the way, especially their romantic ones.
“Do you think the books will have more answers?” I asked skeptically when we reached the living room.
“I don’t know. But I’m not sure what else we can do. The ministers don’t know anything helpful, and the one person who could have helped us is dead,” Tejus stated.
“The emperor?”
“He’s the only one who had access to the book. He must have known where the stones were kept, especially if our theory is correct about him removing one of them to help Jenus in the trials.”
I mulled over Tejus’ words. He was right. The emperor would have known everything, but I also thought about
how unlikely it would have been for him to keep it all to himself. If none of the ministers had known, maybe he had confided in Jenus? Or even…
“Tejus, are you sure your father never mentioned the entity to you?” I asked suddenly.
“Of course I’m sure,” he replied with frustration.
“Not even as a kid? There wasn’t a sentry boogeyman that all the kids were warned against?”
He gave me a puzzled frown. “I’m quite sure—but I’m not clear what myths and stories would do to help us, even if I could remember anything.”
“Because they’re often based on truth, in my experience, anyway. Your father might have divulged important information, but being a kid you would have ignored it.”
“So what if I have? It still doesn’t help us.”
“It does!” I came to a standstill in the middle of the hallway. “We can do what you did when I was attacked by Queen Trina—look through your memories to see if there’s anything that might be able to help, details that you might not be able to remember otherwise.”
“I think there is a very small chance of this proving fruitful, Hazel.”
“We don’t have many other options,” I stated firmly.
Tejus rubbed the back of his neck, drawing his hand away in disgust when he encountered the sticky blood residue. Even like this, half-drowned and disheveled, Tejus’s appearance made my heart skip as he tried to stare me down.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he replied eventually.
“Why not?” I shot back.
“Because it’s a waste of time.”
“You don’t know that. Why don’t we give it a try, and if it doesn’t work we’ll return to the books—or if you have any other ideas…?” I smirked, knowing full well that he didn’t have squat.
He was silent for a while, his jaw flickering in agitation as he deliberated. I didn’t really understand what his problem was, or why there was such a role reversal all of a sudden. Usually it was Tejus who was eager to mind-meld, and I was the reluctant one—always with something to hide.