Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
IRIS
My vision swam. Everything had a slight fuzzy tint to it and I felt sick. The wound on my head had stopped bleeding now, but it still throbbed painfully and probably needed seeing to pretty urgently.
But it could wait. It had to wait. Because Adora was more important, and she needed us.
‘I recognise this area,’ Archer said as we pushed through the undergrowth. ‘I know where we are, and we’re close.’ He squeezed my fingers reassuringly. ‘Let’s be as quiet as possible, and keep your eyes on the trees.’
‘How long do we have?’ I could feel my heart in my throat. My voice shook.
‘If it’s anything like last year, they’ll be starting soon…’
‘Okay, and then what happens?’ I asked, but instantly regretted it when he didn’t answer, he just looked at me with such sadness in his eyes.
I realised then that Archer was running towards the place where Isobella had died, and I could tell that it was weighing on him. I braced a hand on his arm and he looked at me.
‘I’m okay,’ he whispered.
‘I know.’ A soft sound floated to me on the wind, and I tilted my head in an attempt to make it out. ‘What is that?’ I asked.
‘It’s them,’ Archer said ominously.
‘Are they—’
‘Yep,’ Archer cut me off. ‘Chanting. The ceremony has begun.’
We hid in a thicket of dense forest, swallowed whole by shadow and leaves, completely hidden from view. Archer’s body was pressed close to mine, and I could feel his warmth, comforting me.
We were next to a large clearing, one side of it was enveloped in trees, and the other side open to the sheer cliff edge and sea beyond. I realised with a jolt that we were near the place I’d met Boo for the first time. Where I’d heard a noise that scared us both.
Through the thick trees, we could see them.
Dozens of dark figures stood in rows, all cloaked and masked. And there, at the cliff edge…
Adora.
She was bound to a stone altar, thick ropes cinched cruelly around her waist, and iron glinting from her wrists. Even from this distance, I could see her trembling.
They’d stripped her and replaced her clothes with a white gown that barely covered her.
She was blindfolded.
‘Archer…’ I whimpered. I wished it was me up there. I wished she had nothing to do with any of this. She didn’t deserve it.
His hand tightened on my shoulder. ‘It’s okay,’ he whispered, though I could hear the strain beneath his calm. ‘She’s going to be okay. You remember the plan?’
I nodded, replaying the rushed and desperate plan we’d thrown together a moment ago. ‘Yes.’
We waited and waited. I didn’t move a muscle – I was too scared of someone spotting us.
Eventually, the chanting stopped, silence ringing out across the forest.
‘It’s time,’ Archer breathed. ‘They’ll all close their eyes now.’ Right on cue, in terrifying unison, the cloaked figures sank to their knees. Once all fifty or so were down, they bowed their heads and began a new chant. ‘Now,’ he whispered. ‘Go now.’
‘Archer—’
‘Now! Go.’
I forced my trembling legs to move. I ran as silently as possible towards the altar, placing my feet as carefully as I could, avoiding roots and crisp leaves.
Behind me, I caught a faint rustle as Archer sprinted in the opposite direction.
As I drew closer to the altar, I risked a glance at the kneeling figures.
They remained motionless, heads bowed like an audience at a morbid production.
I was so close, but I knew I only had seconds…
‘Dora?’ I whispered as I approached her. ‘Dora, it’s me.’
I kept my voice as quiet as possible, the wind from standing on the cliff edge helping to mask us. I could hear the violent waves crashing against the rocks below.
Her head turned towards me.
‘Iris?’ she whimpered. ‘Is that you?’ I could sense the fear growing. She struggled against the ropes.
‘I’m here,’ I said, voice breaking. ‘I will always be here.’ I went to her back and started untying the tight knots. I noticed a discarded chain on the floor, and then looked at the cuffs on her wrists…
‘Did you—’
‘Free myself already?’ she huffed a breath out over her shoulder. ‘Bobbypins.’
‘Bobbypins,’ I repeated, impressed.
Seconds passed, and I had two of the knots undone. A few more seconds later, the ropes grew loose.
‘Come on,’ I begged, pulling against them as much as I could without hurting her – and then the chanting stopped.
I froze.
‘Don’t move.’
The voice came from so close I jumped. I slowly leaned to peer around Adora’s trembling body – and felt the earth pull out from beneath me.
Two figures stood just beyond the altar. One was masked, and the other…
‘Rory?’ Adora’s voice cracked as she said his name. ‘Rory, is that you?’
She couldn’t see him, I realised, but she knew his voice. She shook the last of the ropes free, and I watched as her trembling fingers reached up to her face, my heart in my throat and tears filling my eyes.
She lifted the blindfold up over her head and threw it to the ground. I reached for her hand as she opened her eyes. As she took in the cloak he was wearing, and the mask in his hand. She looked frail. Scared. Confused.
He smiled at her, and it wasn’t kind or apologetic, but an evil, disgusting smirk, and in that instant, something inside me snapped. For the first time in my life, I understood how someone could want to kill.
Right on cue, a scream pierced the night. On our way here, Archer had explained that he knew exactly where to find the Society’s stash of poisons – rows and rows of large glass vials – and, luckily for us, quite a few of them were highly flammable.
Chaos erupted.
While I was busy freeing Adora, Archer had been making his way around the clearing, as quickly and as quietly as he could, soaking it in the flammable liquids.
It sounds like he accidentally soaked some people, too.
Good.
It was as though I blinked and half of the clearing was ablaze.
Flames roared upwards, devouring the darkness.
Fire licked at the trees encompassing one half of the clearing, rapidly growing and spreading, racing along branches and igniting everything in its path.
Screams filled the air. Some never even made it up before the flames took them out.
The flames were fitting, I thought. It was ironic that their precious water god – the one they loved so much that they were willing to kill innocent people – couldn’t save them.
Every time a scream was cut short, the only thing I could think was that they would never kill an innocent person, ever again.
‘Archer!’
The unfamiliar voice boomed through the chaos. It was the man beside Rory – Rory, whose face had grown slightly pale as his eyes scanned the flaming forest and his fallen companions.
I searched desperately through the smoke for Archer, until I saw him cutting through the chaos towards us.
He mounted the altar in two strides. I’d been desperately trying to untie the ropes from Adora’s waist, and at the same moment Archer reached us, the final rope slipped free and fell to the stone.
I caught her as her knees buckled, wrapping an arm around her shaking frame to support her.
‘Who are you?’ Archer demanded, facing the masked man. He positioned his body in front of us. To shield us.
The man straightened, his posture confident despite the fire raging behind him. ‘I am the current leader of this Society,’ he said, his voice carrying unnaturally well over the chaos.
The third leader.
His voice was low and vile. ‘My father died, and the legacy passed to me.’
The one who no one knows the identity of.
‘Yes,’ Archer replied evenly, stepping up to the man. ‘But who are you?’ I couldn’t believe how strong his voice sounded despite the chaos around us. Archer stood tall. Brave. Protecting us.
A tear slid down my cheek at the fear I felt for him at that moment.
For the man I loved.
A low, terrifying laugh rolled from beneath the stranger's mask. As he spoke, the chaos settled slightly, as if his voice alone carried authority strong enough to make them forget the flames. Adora and I moved to Archer’s side. She gripped me tightly.
‘Let’s see…’ he murmured, fingers lifting towards the edge of his mask.
‘Sir—’ Draven appeared beside him as if summoned. His cloak was singed, and he’d lost his mask. ‘Are you sure?’
The man gave a soft, dismissive chuckle. ‘It doesn’t matter, Agnar. They won’t be alive much longer.’
My stomach dropped and I instinctively reached out to clasp Archer’s arm. His muscles were rigid beneath my fingers.
Agonizingly slowly, the man lifted the mask from his face. The first thing I saw was his hair. It was short and blonde. Next, his eyes. They were dark grey. His skin was pale and gaunt. He looked maybe late fifties. His face seemed familiar, but I was sure I’d never seen him before.
Beside me, Archer went very, very still.
‘Hello, Archer,’ he said, tilting his head slightly, a mean smile still dancing around his features.
For a long moment, Archer said nothing. Then he swallowed.
‘Hello… Father.’