“Oh.”
My mom looked impressed. I guessed in some ways Yelena was kind of like a GASP member in training—even though she’d told me she was always afraid, you’d never know it. It would be kind of cool to have her back at The Shade—maybe for holidays. Not full time though. She would drive me mad.
“You should also know that your son saved me from a burning building,” Yelena continued, “no one mentioned that bit when they were debriefing you. And then he saved me from Acolytes when they tried to kidnap me and take all my energy. Then he saved me again today, dragging me back from the cove when I was so scared I thought I wouldn’t be able to move.”
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.