Serena
[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]
My vision was blurring, my breath coming out in short, tight rasps.
I’m having a panic attack.
I kept my head between my knees, trying to regulate my breathing as best I could. It was dark, but the greenhouse behind me showered the long grass of the lawn in a soft glow. I kept my eyes fixed on a single point—one grass stem, a little taller than the others, that I could use to anchor myself.
I don’t want to lose control.
I wouldn’t, and couldn’t, fall apart. I had friends and family relying on me to stay strong. That was really the cornerstone law of GASP—you never gave up. No matter what the circumstances, or how dark and lonely and hopeless it all felt, you kept going.
No matter if it felt like the world as you knew it was crumbling around you.
I took another deep breath, and felt steady enough to raise my head and look around at the wild, unkempt garden that surrounded me. Most of it was in shadow, the only light coming from the pale moonlight and the windows of the old plantation house that were lit by the yellow kerosene lamps. I didn’t like being out here on my own—not after my last night-time experience in the swamps, which lay just outside the boundaries of the garden up ahead. I averted my eyes, reminding myself that Field was somewhere up on the roof or settled in one of the large trees that grew up around the building. Wherever he was, it wouldn’t be far—we had been told not to leave the grounds, and it was the one instruction from the Druid that we were finally willing to obey.
I leaned back against the glass of the greenhouse, listening to the mating call of the crickets and the silence that came from the swamps and jungle beyond. It was an unnatural silence—as if out there, in the darkness, creatures held their breath. Anticipating, perhaps, that I’d be stupid enough to venture out there again.
Not going to happen, I silently informed the darkness.
The security of the house might have been a double-edged sword, in that we were technically safe from the creatures that populated the rest of Eritopia—the shape-shifters and the Destroyers we had come across so far—but the security of the house didn’t feel comforting when it seemed that we were trapped there, with no way out and no hope of our families coming to get us. The latter was something that my friends and brother weren’t yet aware of. It would fall on me to pass on the news—another crushing blow to add to our current situation.
Trying to delay the conversation, if only for a few more moments so that I could get my own head around the news before passing it on, I looked up at the blanket of stars which shone in the pitch-black sky. When I was in The Shade, looking up at the stars had always been reassuring, exciting even, knowing that there was this great, wide world on the doorstep in which I was nothing but a small speck. It gave me a sense of freedom, of huge possibility to do or be whatever I wanted. Now it just made me afraid. I didn’t recognize any of the shapes or patterns here, not like I did back home.
I’d never been knowledgeable about astronomy—not like Vita was—but I’d shown interest enough to come up with my own dumb names for constellations and keep my fingers crossed for shooting stars at certain times of the year. The sky above me was completely unfamiliar. Eritopia, a set of stars that included the land we were currently inhabiting, was deep in the void of the In-Between. The only place I would recognize in this dimension was the four stars of the fae, but I couldn’t see them in the night sky, and considering how vast the In-Between was reported to be by Corrine and the other members of GASP, I could only conclude we were a long, long way from where we were meant to be.
Knowing that I shouldn’t delay the inevitable any longer, I scanned the surrounding trees for Field. Not seeing him, I sighed and reluctantly walked back into the damp warmth of the greenhouse. I’d call him from the window once I got upstairs—it was probably best to tell everyone at the same time. Like ripping off a Band-Aid in one go.
I didn’t see or hear any sign of the Druid. I had left him back in his strange laboratory—a room covered in strange jars and beakers, full of unknown and dubious-looking substances. And the flame. The flame that had somehow shown me everything I’d never wanted to see.
Not wanting to spend time alone in the downstairs part of the house, which I considered the Druid’s domain, I headed straight for the staircase. We had taken over the second floor, sharing rooms like we were in a boarding-school dormitory, ensuring that we remained together—as if that would somehow keep the strangeness of the place at bay.
Once I reached the hallway, I headed for the last room on the left, where Vita and Aida would be sleeping. Wishing I didn’t need to disturb them from much-needed sleep, I pushed the door open, surprised to see another lamp glowing in the room and both Vita and Aida sitting upright on the bed.