As far as I was aware, I was the only one having trouble sleeping and experiencing weird dreams—none of the others had complained of anything, not that I’d heard anyway.
“I hate that we turned and ran like cowards,” Julian muttered from the end of the table. We all looked at him, but no one said anything.
“We didn’t have much choice,” I answered eventually.
“Some vigilante group we are, giving up at the first hurdle!” he retorted. “We’re supposed to be taking action, getting out of here on our own and not waiting around for some sentry to decide when we can leave.”
“You were trying to get through the barriers on your own?” Dean, the new boy, asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, why?” Julian looked at the other boy across the table.
“Nothing.” He shrugged. “It’s just that I’ve heard it’s impossible—my sentry told me that the barriers are erected by all the minister sentries using their collective mind power. I don’t think there’s going to be a way through till they lower them after the trials. Sorry, man.”
“I’m not giving up,” Julian replied stubbornly.
“You probably should,” I replied. “We’re wasting our time. We have to just wait it out—there’s only two more trials to go. I don’t think anything’s going to happen to us in that time, and both Ash and Tejus have the highest scores.”
Julian flung his spoon down and looked at me with disappointment. I thought he was going to say something, but instead he pushed his chair back and left the room.
I stared at my plate, not wanting to see the looks the kids were giving me. I didn’t understand why Julian had to be so pig-headed about this. But I couldn’t deny that I was also a bit worried that I didn’t seem to care that much about escaping Nevertide. The Shade had started to feel like such a far-away place... It was weird.
“Are you okay?” Yelena asked softly.
“I’m fine,” I muttered, my jaw tightening.
“Well, I’m going to go and do something with Julian—you know, like sword train—so he feels like we’re at least doing something.”
Be my guest.
She stood up to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I saw other kids doing the same.
“Come with us, Benedict,” one of them called, “you’re really good at it.”
“Yeah, come on!” another one chorused.
I sighed inwardly and followed them.
We all made our way over to the weapons hole we’d created under a loose stone in the floor and armed ourselves with the rusty, ancient relics.
“These are so cool!” Dean exclaimed, and it made me feel marginally better.
By the time we’d entered the deserted courtyard we were using as our practice yard, I was in a better mood and started to parry with Dean, letting Julian take over the instruction of the younger kids.
We had only been there ten minutes when a small cry came from Yelena. I turned around to see one of the youngest girls had fallen to the floor in a faint. Dropping my sword with a clatter on the floor, I rushed over to the girl.
She lay white-faced and breathing ever so softly, while I stood over her body, panicked and anxious.
There was something familiar about the scene that lay before me.
The limp body reminded me of Yelena as she’d lain fast asleep in the living quarters, with me standing over her, my arms outstretched.
I felt a strange, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
There was something that I was meant to understand about all this—a half-thought forming in my mind. I recalled the pale, drawn faces around the table. My midnight wanderings around the castle. And the stone. Always the stone…
Was I responsible, somehow, for this strange lethargy that had taken us all?
But that was impossible…
Wasn’t it?
Hazel
Tejus had offered to show me around the grounds of the castle—there were so many parts that I still hadn’t seen, especially outside. Even so, I had agreed reluctantly. I felt that it was a premeditated maneuver on his part to start talking about what happened with the waterfall and the blindfold. Since that afternoon, I had caught him glancing at me occasionally, with a curious, questioning expression on his face. He knew my lie didn’t add up—and I couldn’t think of another way to explain it without revealing the truth.
We entered a small courtyard that I’d not seen before, with a dried-up water fountain in the middle which contained dried leaf debris. The wind was cold that morning, and it whipped unkindly around the stone walls of the courtyard, sounding hollow and bleak.
“I wanted to congratulate you, Hazel.” Tejus spoke first, and I looked up at him as he gestured for me to take a seat on the edge of the fountain. I complied, finding the ice-cold marble uncomfortable.
“You seem to be able to see so much,” he continued, and my heart sank. “In my mind, I mean. Our ability to connect is something I’ve never come across before… It far surpasses any expectations I had. Even when I try to block you out, you seem to be able to find a way in. It’s… remarkable.”
“When did you try to block me out?” I asked, trying to change the subject so I wouldn’t have to take credit where it wasn’t due. I felt guilty. His praise wasn’t deserved—it was all the damn stone.
“At the beginning of the honest trial. It was overwhelming… I felt weak,” he replied hesitantly. “People should never see me that way. For obvious reasons.”
“Maybe if you were to show your people vulnerabilities, they might like you more,” I replied cautiously.
“I don’t want them to like me. They need a leader,” he responded curtly. “They might like the story of a kitchen boy rising to kingship, but what the people of Nevertide need is someone to rule them—someone who knows the politics of the kingdoms.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged, wondering if Ash would have actually come first in a few of the trials if I hadn’t used the stone. I no longer knew what skills Tejus actually had, and what was the work of the stone.
I wanted us to win the trials, but was I robbing the people of Nevertide of their rightful leader?
“Maybe?” Tejus repeated.
“Well… I suppose I don’t know, do I?” I said. “Maybe you’d both be good at the job.”
“It’s reassuring to know you have such faith in me,” he replied sarcastically.
I huffed and then we sat in silence for a while. Tejus stared ahead at the arched entrance, and I stared at my hands, mulling in a mixture of guilt and annoyance.
“You are behaving oddly,” he finally declared.
I didn’t dare meet his eyes. “Why do you say that?”
“You know that you are. What is the matter?” he asked.
His eyes bored into me, and I could sense the determination in them to get to the bottom of whatever was troubling me.
“I’m just homesick,” I replied.
He nodded slowly, but I could tell he wasn’t satisfied by my reply. I supposed homesickness wasn’t something that Tejus would have ever understood. It wasn’t like he would have anything much to miss here.
“Then… Why don’t you share some of your human experiences with me? I’d like to see them again.” I wasn’t sure if this was a sincere request, or some kind of ruse. I looked at him suspiciously. His face was quite stony, as was its default state, but I couldn’t deny there was a hint of real curiosity in his eyes.
Crap.
I needed to be careful when I shared my memories with Tejus. I didn’t want him to know anything about The Shade or GASP members. I didn’t think I’d ever trust anyone in Nevertide with that kind of information… And I didn’t want the stone coming up either.
The only way around it would be to carefully pick a memory from one short vacation we’d gone on with our parents in Hawaii. I desperately wished I could use the stone in this moment—it would help me focus on what I wanted Tejus to see, without other thoughts drifting in, but I didn’t dare risk it.
“Okay,” I replie
d, preparing a memory.
I felt the familiar sensations at my temple and skull, and reached out to him as best I could. I felt the bond click into place, and then started to flesh out the memory as best I could for him.
We were at an open-air concert. We had managed to get last-minute tickets to see a band play. The sky had been lit by a million stars, and combined with the flashing stage lights and the stunning set design, the experience had been quite unreal.
I flicked through the images of that night for Tejus’s benefit—the band on stage, and the lead guitarist crowd-surfing across the hysterical audience. How I had danced to every song, dripping with sweat by the end of it, but deliriously happy. A snapshot of Benedict playing air-guitar and looking like a total idiot.
Another image flickered into my mind—still at the concert, but if I remembered correctly, during one of the breaks. We were all leaning against the rail of the main dance floor.
“Hey, Hazel, can I have some money for a soda? I’m so thirsty,” Benedict said.
I had been looking after his spending money in my pocket alongside my own.
I fumbled around in my jean pocket for his bag of change, and, grabbing what I could, I held out my hand to Benedict.
Nestling in with the dimes and single-dollar notes was the stone.
What the hell…
I felt the ground start to jerk under my feet and the stars in the sky rushed toward me.
Then I looked at Benedict and screamed.
His face had become grotesquely distorted, his eyes black like a bare skull’s and his jaw hanging unnaturally low. His hand reached out for the stone…
The connection broke.
I gasped, jerking violently away from the fountain as I fought for breath.
“What the HELL was that?” Tejus bellowed at me, his face cast in an expression of pure fury.
“I don’t… I don’t know!”
“Don’t lie to me! What was that stone?” he hissed. He grabbed my hands, yanking me toward him, his face an inch from mine. “That thing had power—what the hell was it? Tell me, Hazel. Tell me now.”
“I’m… so, so sorry… I found it in the sword,” I whispered.
“The sword of Hellswan?” he asked, his face blanching.
“Yes, it was in the handle.”
“Damn it!” he swore. He dropped my arms in disgust and leapt up, starting to pace back and forth in front of me, clenching his fists as he did so. “We could have been disqualified if anyone had found it, do you realize that?” He spat out his words with such venom that I took a hasty step back.
“That stone has obvious powers,” he continued, “I could feel it through the vision—and you should never trust anything that once belonged to my father. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry. It was just so helpful…” I replied, feeling sick.
“I should have known.” He glared at me. “A human would never possess such strong mental control. Such impressive abilities. You had me well and truly fooled! I thought it was all you—that you were something special.”
He laughed bitterly.
His words cut sharply, brutally.
Don’t cry, I scolded myself, feeling hot tears brim at the corners of my eyes, don’t let him see you cry.
“I want you to take the stone and put it in the crystal room until I decide how to get rid of it without anyone seeing—or sensing its power. And don’t you dare disobey me.”
“I won’t!” I shouted back at him. “It was a mistake—okay? And I said I was sorry!”
“Sorry doesn’t help. You put everything at risk. Your own sibling’s and friends’ freedom—and my rightful place as the Hellswan ruler.”
He might as well have just punched me in the gut for the effect his words had.
“I’m not listening to this anymore,” I replied, my voice thick and hoarse. “I said I was sorry. I meant it. I’ll put the stupid stone in the room—no one will ever know.”
“Make sure you do,” he growled.
He turned to walk away from me, but stopped when we both heard footsteps approaching.
“Hazel! I found you!” A voice echoed through the desolate courtyard. It was Nikolay, striding through the arch with a huge smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“Oh, gods,” Tejus muttered. He stalked off, walking past Nikolay without so much as a glance in his direction.
Nikolay watched him go with a look of bemusement on his face.
“Did I say something?” he quipped, winking at me and holding out the bouquet.
“No—I’m afraid that’s all me,” I replied, watching the departing figure.
“Are you okay?” he asked, peering down at me in concern.
“Yeah... I’ve just been a massive idiot,” I replied bleakly.
“I don’t believe that for a second. You are no idiot.” He took my hand gently in his and raised the back of it to his lips. “You are a beautiful creature, Hazel—more angel than human, as I see it.”
“That’s very nice of you.” I smiled back weakly, not exactly in the right frame of mind to enjoy Nikolay’s flowery attentions. “But I have behaved like an idiot. It’s something I need to go and fix.”
I took my hand back, and his smile faded.
“Nikolay, it’s not a good time.” I turned to leave, but he stopped me.
“These still belong to you.” He offered me the bouquet again and I took it before he continued. “Perhaps after the trials I can spend a bit more time with you?” he asked, less sure of himself now.
“Thank you for the flowers.”
“There was nothing I could find that compared to your beauty,” he called to me.
Seriously?
I waved at him, an artificial smile plastered across my face.
After I’d re-entered the castle and traipsed back upstairs to Tejus’s living quarters, a disturbing realization surfaced in my mind, a realization that I could no longer deny.
The knightly charms of Nikolay all but repelled me. It was the cold, stony and occasionally cruel Tejus who—for reasons I couldn’t fathom—I had begun to feel drawn to, even in spite of myself.
There is something seriously wrong with you, Hazel Achilles.
Benedict
I could hear the rustling of dry leaves outside my window, the dead ones scattering across the stone courtyards like rattling bones. The wind whistling through the castle seemed to whisper to me, calling out my name, urging me to get up.
Please don’t call me again.
My mind whimpered, locked and helpless as my body rose in its state of half sleep. I passed Julian, lost to the world and snoring lightly into his pillow, and I longed to swap places with him, to sleep safely, unafraid of the corridors and hallways of the castle, a stranger to the call of the stone.
I passed the sleeping guards, quietly shutting the door behind me. The torches were still lit, throwing shadows across the walls.
My feet padded along the hallway, drawn further and further along into the shadows and the silence of the sleeping castle.
The whispers grew louder, more insistent. I needed to reach them, to find the voices that called out to me, to listen to the stones.
I came to a wooden doorway that I’d seen before, the one that Ash had led us through the day we returned to the castle in his sun-root cart.
Don’t make me go outside! Please!
But the whispers kept calling.
My feet were bare, the cold stone like ice against my skin. I walked to the portcullis, its iron bars gleaming in the moonlight, the pointed tips like jagged teeth welcoming me into the dark beyond the castle walls.
Mindlessly I crawled onto the floor. There was a foot of space between the spikes and the floor, enough for me to crawl through. I inched my way beneath it, imagining that the iron frame would suddenly drop lower, claiming its victim, but I was unable to turn back. My body wasn’t listening any more.
When I passed through, I raised myself upright agai
n and walked along the moat. A bird’s cry pierced the air. My blood ran cold, and I looked to the night sky, seeing a dark shadow briefly blocking out the moonlight. Soon I could hear the whoosh of wings growing closer, and a black vulture landed before me, fixing me with its beady glare, its gleaming coat of feathers looking like they’d been drenched in black tar.
Showing no sign of fear, just mindless acceptance of the whispered commands, I reached out for the bird. Holding on to a clump of feathers in my hand, I lifted myself onto the creature’s back. Without a moment of hesitation, the bird soared through the air and carried me across the shadowed landscape of Hellswan.
I shut my eyes, my body intent on holding onto the vulture, my mind begging to be left to slide off its back and fall to the ground miles below.
Soon the bird dipped lower, and I could hear the violent crashing of the sea against rock. We almost skimmed the surface of its black waters—waters that looked to me to be endless, but when the bird came to a stop I found myself climbing down onto damp sand.
I looked around a forest clearing, lit only by a horrible green light that seemed to come from the sand itself. Shapes rose up from the ground—boats, old chests, and the glint of battered weaponry. I walked past all these, drawn forward to a place where the light was the strongest, and found a large hole in the ground.
Don’t look down, oh, God, don’t look down…
The green light grew stronger—as if it had lit up the entire sky and the whole world in its sick, glowing green. I felt my legs trembling, so exhausted by the adrenaline that they started to give way. The whispers became screams, and they rocketed around in my head, filling it with white noise.
Then everything went black.
I came to groggily and looked around.
Where am I this time?
Dimly I could recall a green light and a hole in the ground, but as I looked around the sandy cove where I’d decided to make my bed for the night, there was nothing like that to be seen.
What I could see made me sit up in astonishment. I rubbed my eyes, unsure if I was really looking at a half-submerged Viking longboat rising out of the sand.
A Shade of Vampire 35: A Race of Trials Page 11
