“Are you all right, Benedict?” Tejus turned around, checking I was gripping on.
“I’m fine!” I yelled over the rushing wind.
“She has no power over you—neither does the entity, not anymore. Do you understand?”
He had obviously sensed my fear, but I was grateful for it. I needed to hear those words—I needed to remind myself that I wasn’t at their mercy any more, and I was damned if I was going to let Queen Trina and the entity manipulate a bunch of kids the way they’d done to me.
“I understand.” I nodded, my heart fluttering with anxiety anyway. I still wasn’t looking forward to coming face to face with the queen again, let alone the entity if he managed to rise.
Tejus nodded, turning his attention back to the vulture. I could see the cove appearing in the distance—it was partially blocked by swirls of mist that hung low over the ocean, but I recognized the horseshoe shape of it and the dark forests that surrounded the rocks, leading back all the way to Hellswan castle.
“Don’t let anything happen to my sister,” I announced suddenly. I needed to say it just in case.
“Never,” he replied.
I believed him. As long as Tejus lived, my sister wouldn’t come to harm—he would protect her with every last breath in his body.
“We’re close. I’m going to land behind the cove. We can follow the path up, and that will lead us to the temple.” He pointed at the small one-man track, nothing more than a sand-covered gap in the rocks, that wound its way down to the cove.
“Why are we not landing on the beach?” I asked, confused.
“I want the element of surprise. I suspect Jenus was left at the palace to direct us here, so we need to be cautious.”
That made sense. It also delayed our arrival at the cove, and suddenly I wanted that more than anything—my heart rate was spiking, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I desperately wanted to be brave, to be as courageous as Tejus and Ash, but I was terrified.
Tejus swooped down silently, the bird shooting through the air like an arrow.
We landed on a small clearing that led down to the path. The rest of the birds landed, and we all disembarked in total silence. Ruby and Ash had shared a bird, and they walked toward Tejus with questioning eyes. In whispers, he filled them in on the plan—we were to go single file up the path, fanning out when we reached the cove, keeping them trapped until the rest of the army arrived.
I reached out and squeezed Hazel’s hand. She squeezed it back, then released me quickly—I’d forgotten about her hunger.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
She smiled. “I’ll get it under control soon, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.”
She was quiet for a few moments, smiling into my eyes. She looked like Mom in that moment, and for the first time I could really see the resemblance between them. I’d never truly noticed it before. Maybe it was because Hazel seemed a bit older to me now. I felt we were much closer than we ever had been. How could it be any different? We’d been through so much.
“I don’t want you to be here. I want you to be miles from here,” she whispered.
“Tough. I’m sticking it out.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“So are you.”
My grin faded as Tejus beckoned to us—it was time to get moving.
“I love you,” Hazel reminded me.
“I know. I love you too.”
I let her lead the way, and we walked swiftly over to the start of the path. Tejus looked at Hazel, his expression unreadable. Then he turned without saying a word, moving silently between the rocks.
The walk down to the cove was a short one. It got wider as we progressed, and soon I could hear noises up ahead. I almost came to a standstill as I recognized the low, melodic chanting. It was the Acolytes. The words, running together as one low drone, were barely distinguishable, but I had heard that sound night after night in my dreams, echoes of it haunting every waking hour. I felt nausea rise up inside me, and the acidic burn of bile at the back of my throat.
The sentry guard in front of me moved out from the pathway to stand along the back of the short cliff face, and I got my first full glimpse of the cove.
The Acolytes, about thirty in all, were kneeling at the shore, all chanting in the low drone I’d heard from the path. Queen Trina stood in front of them, standing at the edge of the shoreline, arms outstretched, facing the ocean with her back to us.
Hanging in the air above her, further out toward the sea, black rags were suspended in the wind. I watched as they fluttered from side to side — tossed about as the breeze whipped around the walls of the cove and then back again. I squinted, trying to work out what they were. My stomach lurched.