I watched Blue and Rock, the two Hawk boys, fly off into the distance in search of Benedict and the others. As soon as they disappeared from view, I noticed with curiosity that one of them appeared to be returning—a black dot in the distance growing steadily larger.
“Do you think he forgot something?” Hazel asked, coming to stand next to me as we gazed up at the sky.
“Maybe he wants to join us—I suppose it doesn’t take the two of them to deliver the message.”
“I don’t know,” Hazel replied doubtfully, “the Hawk boys tend to stick together. I’d be surprised if one of them would be willing to go off into battle without the others voluntarily.”
As the dot became larger, I started to notice that there were two people approaching. They were still too far away to distinguish who it was, but the Hawk boy was carrying someone—probably a male sentry, judging by the size, who was dressed in the red cloak of Hellswan. I used True Sight to get a better idea of who the sentry was, and as I honed in on the Hawk, I realized that it was Field—the boy with the long dark hair, related to Ben. In his arms, he was carrying Zerus.
“Are you seeing what I am?” Hazel breathed.
Seeing my brother for the first time since the earthquakes brought up mixed emotions. I had truly presumed that he was dead, slowly adjusting to the idea that aside from Jenus, I was the only Hellswan left. I was glad to see him—and I was glad that out of all my brothers, he was the one who had survived. Zerus had always been the nicest, kindest and quietest one of all of us, happier in his room with his telescope, watching the stars, than he was with the business of the kingdom or Nevertide politics.
How he had survived in the first place was astonishing. I wondered if he’d gotten out of the castle long before its collapse—or managed to escape unnoticed while the mayhem ensued. Either way, it was strange that he hadn’t sought me out prior to now. Did I need to be as wary of this brother as I was of Jenus?
The crowds of GASP members and sentries parted as Field landed. He released my brother, who stumbled forward, looking around at us all with wide eyes, his hands clasped together. He was nervous.
“Zerus.” I greeted him with a nod, not sure how comfortable he would be with an embrace. He seemed even more skittish than usual.
“T-Tejus,” he stammered, and then fell silent.
Field looked from one of us to the other, and then cleared his throat awkwardly.
“We found Zerus in the Dauoa forests. Benedict believed he could help us find a path through the mountains, but we soon discovered that he was receiving messages from Jenus. We thought we should bring him to you.”
I stared at my brother in astonishment.
“Is this true, Zerus?” I barked, trying to get his full attention. His eyes continued to dart across the assembled members of GASP, clearly taken aback by their strangeness.
When it was clear that he wasn’t going to speak, I tried to put him at ease.
“These are Hazel’s friends and family, they’re here to help us end the entity and its armies. You know of the threat we face, I assume?”
Zerus nodded.
“I have seen the shadow. I have seen the darkness,” he mumbled.
“So tell me what Jenus has said,” I encouraged, trying to keep my impatience in check. We were running out of time, and I could sense that I wasn’t the only one who wanted to shake the information out of my brother.
“He speaks to me in my dreams,” Zerus whispered. “Begging forgiveness and absolution. He cries that his master tricked him, that his soul dies more every day, and that he wishes to be free from his enslavement. He shows me images of Earth, of humans in great pain, running in terror from the armies of the entity.”
I glanced at Derek. The vision I had must have been sent by Jenus somehow, perhaps using the power of the entity to mind-meld with me at such a distance. If Jenus was still ‘alive’ despite the entity residing within him, then it would explain the barrier that Hazel and I had created—why we had felt that there had been another form of energy there aside from our own. Had it been my brother all along, providing what help he could?
“You are sure of this? You are sure that it is Jenus and not the entity playing tricks?” I asked, wondering if the same thought had occurred to my brother.
“No.” Zerus shook his head. “I am not sure. I am not sure at all—before all this our brother was cruel, a darkness inside him that blossomed with the lavish attentions of our father. It could all be a trick, but I cannot ignore the earnestness of his voice—the cries that haunt me, begging for me to free him.”
I nodded, feeling pity for Zerus. It must have been difficult, alone in the forest with the pleas of Jenus haunting him. I wondered why I had not heard the same, why our brother had not tried to reach me through his own voice as he’d done with Zerus. Did he think that I would turn my back on him, ignore his cries for help?