Page 103 of A Game of Monsters

She swept her gaze between Erix and me, and we both agreed with the bow of our heads. That was all she needed to continue. Rafaela began to mumble strange words beneath her breath. What she said had a rhythm to it, as if she spoke in line with the bell’s chimes.

Slowly, she parted Duncan’s mouth until it was held open. Then, with one hand on his forehead, the other on his chest, Rafaela forced him beneath the waters.

I was expecting it, but that didn’t stop the scream from bursting out of me. Erix locked his arms around my waist, holding me back, as Duncan was held beneath the pool.

His eyes flared open, panic singing in the bright, forest green. He’d not woken since last night, but the fright had just dragged him conscious at the wrong time.

Bubbles escaped his lungs, as the waters flooded into them. He tried to clamp his mouth closed, but he couldn’t.

The damage was done.

Water splashed over the lip of the pool, cresting over my boots in waves. All the while I continued to shout for Duncan, whose frantic eyes searched for me. In the chaos, Seraphine and Gyah rushed into the sacred room. They saw what was happening, combined with my cries, and Rafaela concentrating on her prayer as she offered Duncan’s life as payment to a god.

“Get him out of here!” Rafaela broke her flow enough to shout at us, a wave of power radiating out from her body. It wasn’t magic. It was authority: the command of a Nephilim who was chosen by the Creator as his enforcer. “Now!”

Erix hesitated, but Seraphine and Gyah didn’t. With their help, and brute strength, we were guided out of the chamber, leaving behind Rafaela to continue holding Duncan beneath the pool, her words echoing between stone walls.

As it turned out, it didn’t take long for a person to drown. I noticed, as I was swept away, that Duncan’s body had stopped thrashing, that the rush of bubbles leaving his mouth had slowed – proving no air was left within his lungs.

CHAPTER 24

Even beneath the blanket of night, Irobel’s heavy, warm air was insufferable. I sat upon a wicker chair, digging my fingers into the knots of twine as I looked out across the island void of life. My eyes fixed on the reflection of the moon across the ocean’s calm surface, because looking at anything else made this wait unbearable. No matter where I found my eyes falling, I thought of Duncan. Short storms rolled in quickly but left even quicker. Lightning flashed in the distance, speckled amongst thick clouds, only to pass on. In the moments after the lashing of rain, it gave the air some reprieve. But alas, the comfort didn’t last.

Every now and then I’d catch Erix out the corner of my eye, dressed in a loose linen tunic which hung to his chest, tied over one shoulder. I supposed a positive about being in Irobel was that most of the clothing was made for creatures with wings.

Erix barely removed his attention from me. If it wasn’t for his encouragement, I wouldn’t have drunk the water provided or touched the plate of fresh fruits that had been picked by Seraphine for us to feast on.

Grapes, Seraphine had explained, a strange, small fruit that were sour to chew and coated in a thick skin. Tart orange slices that tasted more savoury than sweet. I could only manage a handful before sickness gripped my stomach.

Without Duncan beside me, I felt so alone. But the reality was I was surrounded by the people I loved.

Gyah was sitting by the door, gaze fixed to the wall, mind lost to her loss. I couldn’t imagine how she felt, waiting for news on Duncan’s second chance at life, while Althea’s life was in the hands of a murderous zealot. Just the thought alone tore me up from the inside.

Seraphine kept herself busy too. A pile of books sat beside her, each ‘borrowed’ from the library she stumbled upon as she mentally mapped out the island and what was on it.

Once an Asp, always an Asp.

The texts were handwritten, likely biased accounts written by Nephilim over the years. I didn’t have it in me to ask what she was researching, or even to care. I did, however, wonder if those texts had been touched by Duncan’s birth mother. Were her stories inked onto those pages?

Every detail led back tohim.

I practically held my breath as I waited for Rafaela to return with an update on Duncan’s fate. But as the hours passed, dusk tumbling into the dead of night, I found that the only thing with the power to occupy my mind washome.

What state would the realms be in upon our return? Who else would be taken from this world, joining Althea in capture or Elinor in death?

If I had it in me to sleep, perhaps I would dream of Jesibel and find news. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw Duncan drowning in those cobalt waters.

“The Transfigurationsuccess rate is rather high,” Seraphine spoke, hardly looking up from the tome in her hand. “And can you believe the Nephilim have been taking humans from Durmain for generations? There is even a section in this book that mentions a festering sickness that swept across Irobel, leading to the demise of multiple Nephilim. With their numbers low, they were desperate for newer recruits – focusing on religious leaders in Durmain who continued the spreading of the Creator’s belief. So the angels from religious stories show up, say that the Creator has a task for them, trick humans into coming here to be ‘changed’ and then ta-da, more winged warriors.”

I hadn’t told them about Duncan’s truth – it wasn’t fair they knew before him. So, I kept my mouth shut, knowing the twisted truth of the prophecy and what it made people like Rafaela and Cassial do.

No one replied to Seraphine. I tried to force up a sound to at least acknowledge I heard her, but my voice cracked and that made Erix jolt toward me as if something was wrong. Seraphine didn’t notice, filling the awkward silence with more findings from her reading.

“I have found some more information about the binding of Nephilim in labradorite as well.” She lifted her gaze and settled it upon me for a beat. “They called it the Severing. Severing a Nephilim from the Creator, by binding them in labradorite stone, and believe it or not, it is our dearest Rafaela who discovered it. No mention of a reversal, but if she is confident that it can be done, she would be the one to know.”

I stretched my gaze out across the ocean again. There was a small island just off the coast of the one we stayed upon. Its jagged rockface was lined with the statues of bound Nephilim. To the naked eye, no one would believe they were anything but figures carved from stone. The truth was darker. And this was the promise of our army, a chance to save the world from Cassial and his use of Duwar. And yet we were wasting time trying to save Duncan – one soul – instead of an entire realm of people. Was that where my priorities lay? My small world, not the one around me?

No one suggested as much, but it was all I thought about.

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