10 #3
Erebus and I quickly summoned our shadows, forming them into ropes, tethers, arms. Anything that could grab or snare.
And then we sent them forth, grabbing dreamers even as they slipped below the surface.
A mottled hand sank its claws into my ankle, but I ignored it, holding strong.
Another grabbed my leg, pinching behind my knee—just as a third reached for Erebus.
“Hang on!” I shouted, urging the dreamers to let the shadows help them. To yield.
But then my foot slipped.
I was falling—
Erebus swiftly yanked a shadow around my waist, holding me firm.
I blinked, realizing the gravity of what had just happened. Erebus had reached back to hold me steady, even as he strained under the weight of the shadows pulling him in a hundred different directions. Pulling me in a hundred different directions.
The water didn’t relent.
It continued to churn, whispers rising into screams. The voices grew louder, more insistent; each ghostly face was more menacing than the last. The path of stones thinned again, forcing us into a haphazard single file as we urged the dreamers forward.
It took my full mental strength to keep the shadows taut—even Erebus groaned from the weight of containing them all.
The water roared with a fierce, defiant surge, sending a wave over the rocks that almost swept us all off our feet.
For a moment, I was blinded, the cold spray cutting through my focus.
“We’re almost there,” Erebus urged, his voice barely audible over the haunted, layered shrieks. “Stay with me, Esmer. I need you.”
“Right behind you,” I bit out, even as my legs wobbled with exertion.
Together we urged the dreamers forward, step by careful step, until at last we all reached solid ground. As we finally crossed onto dry stone, the phantoms dissolved, leaving only silence and the faint echo of the voices that had haunted us. The dreamers slumped with relief, breathing hard.
Shaken, but unhurt.
CRASH!
Before we could fully recover, the chamber collapsed.
Sorren made a loud, exasperated sound. “Oh, for the love of—”
A fiery corridor suddenly pressed in around us, walls pulsing and shifting with red flames that breathed with a life of their own.
The constrictive path left no room for error, but there was no way out but the one forward.
The flames shifted and swayed, reacting to every slight movement, every flicker of hesitation.
Waves of heat roiled over us, tinged with the acrid smell of burning flesh.
“This room is foul,” Sorren noted, nose scrunched in disgust. His sleek black hair, typically falling below his jaw in a perfect sweep, was sticking up everywhere. I didn’t want to imagine what mine looked like. “I’d gladly fight fifty demons at once instead of enduring these depraved trials.”
“Now you want to break the rules,” Ceveon grumbled. “Like it or not, these trials will help us conquer Evernight and defeat Raelion. Then you can retire in a shadowed corner of the castle and never look at a flame again.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Sorren huffed, scowling at the fire with an icy stare.
“He loathes the heat,” Ceveon explained to me. The admission was a touch too loud, coaxing another scoff from Sorren’s lips. “Clings to him like a needy ex-lover. Ruins his mood every time he—”
The fire suddenly snapped, interrupting him and sending the dreamers into a frenzy.
“Do not fear,” Erebus’s voice rang out. “Do not fear.” He kept his gaze forward, steady and unfazed, while the dreamers behind us clung to his every word.
He was a natural leader—more than he ever would admit.
“Keep control. The flames, like the water, will likely feed on our emotions. Show them nothing.”
Still, the dreamers’ tension rippled through them like cracks spreading through stone. The enchanted fire reacted to every rise and fall in their emotions; good or bad, positive or negative, the flames fed off it.
“Focus on counting your steps!” Sorren snapped, criticizing the dreamer behind him who wouldn’t stop complaining.
The flames near Sorren’s head hissed, reacting to his anger and springing forward like a starving serpent.
Fiery teeth clamped down on his cheek, quick and as vicious, instantly causing his face to blister.
Sorren took a deep breath, fighting to quell his pain.
“Count your steps and think only about counting your steps!”
The group began at once.
It was methodical, calculating, and a blissful distraction.
“Forty-six,” we chanted, marching in sync.
“Forty-seven.”
“Forty-eight.”
The heat intensified, pressing on us as we ventured deeper.
Sweat pricked at my brow, but I forced myself to stay calm, to let the warmth become a background hum rather than a smothering blanket.
But just as we approached the halfway point, a strangled gasp sounded behind us.
I whipped around just in time to see one of the dreamers wobble from the path, his face twisted in panic.
An older man who had been trapped in Erebus’s castle for centuries—and had done his best to help new dreamers get acquainted with the domain.
“No!” I shouted.
I shot a spiral of shadow his way. Reaching for the dreamer’s arms, his legs—anything.
Erebus also tried to help, shadows snapping from his hands.
But it was too late. The flames reacted instantly, rearing up and feeding on the dreamer’s fear.
Erebus staggered back, cursing. “Get back!” he snarled at the other dreamers, hurling another shadow at the blaze.
But it was useless.
Too late.
The man made hysterical sounds as the fire wrapped around him, a wriggling, smoking blaze that swallowed him whole.
He vanished within seconds, leaving nothing behind.
I was rooted to the spot, instantly nauseated, the echo of his anguished cries still ringing in my ears.
The remaining dreamers clung to one another.
I wanted to reach out, to say something that could pull them back from that edge of panic, but the words felt like ash on my tongue.
Come on, Esmer.
Be the leader they need.
But then, as soon as I opened my mouth, a searing pain overtook me, forcing me to my knees.
The dreamers collapsed, too, knees slamming into the rocky path.
The walls pressed in, showing us unspeakable visions within the flames.
I saw Erebus, shackled in irons and surrounded by fire, weeping as flames crawled up his bare chest. They licked into his skin, biting, devouring.
He’s being burned alive, I thought in horror, crawling toward him.
A murky shape unfurled beside him, poised above his throat.
The thing bared its teeth, ready to gorge itself on his pale neck—
The creature looked up, noticing me.
Raelion.