August didn’t even remember calling upon his shadows. Perhapshe didn’t. Perhaps they simply felt his rage and knew what he wanted—what heneeded. And then two tendrils of shadows were shooting out of him, twisting around Callum’s throat, constricting it so tightly that the boy’s face was bleached white.
But the shadows weren’t done…and neither was August.
He flexed his fingers and one of the shadows slithered into Callum’s mouth, snaking down his throat, choking him. The other boy tried to rip the shadows away, but August wouldn’t let him go that easily. He flicked another set of shadows toward Callum,twining them around his wrists, binding them together.
Callum tried to speak, but his words were muffled. He gagged, retching as he tried to break free, but August only twisted tighter, digging deeper. The power hummed in his veins. An intoxicating feeling that seemed to envelop every inch of his soul.Yes, yes, yes, the shadows cried.More, more, more.He hated how good it felt—butGod, it felt good. It was a power he’d never even known was possible.
August curled his fingers closed and the shadows darkened, shifting from wispy gray to midnight black, trailing down to the floor in a thick current of fog.
He was using too much. Heknewhe was. The rational part of his brain echoed in the background, begging him to stop, that it was enough, but it just felt so damngoodto watch Callum writhe and squirm under his power.
August stepped forward and gripped Callum’s face tightly between his hands, pinching so hard that his fingernails dug into Callum’s cheeks, crimson beads of blood dripping from the crescent-moon indents he was leaving behind.
“Listen to me very carefully, Private Whitlock.” August barely recognized his own voice, dark and wrong, distorted by the power running through his veins. “I am not someone you want to messwith. Not anymore. The silly boy who clung to his humanity and kept himself hidden away in Blackwood is gone. My sister is cruel, but even she has her limits.” August brought his mouth to Callum’s ear, unable to stop a smirk from creeping onto his lips as he whispered the next words: “I, however, have none.”
Callum coughed, sputtering, eyes rolling back into his head.
“If you ever mention this again—if you ever evenutterher name in my presence—I will slither my shadows into your soul and tear your bones out, one by one.” August’s shadows vibrated as the promise left his lips. “You will be unable to speak. Unable to move. And every time your body heals itself, my shadows will resume their duty, deteriorating your insides over and over for the rest of your useless eternity. You will know nothing but the feeling of my shadows coursing through your veins. For once”—August wrenched Callum’s head back, forcing the boy’s wide, panicked eyes onto his face—“you will know what real agony feels like.”
With that, August stepped back, his shadows retreating with him. Callum choked in a rasped breath, clawing at his throat, coughing until the air moved through his lungs. But when Callum glanced back up at August, hands pressed against his knees, it wasn’t fear August saw etched upon the boy’s face. It wasn’t terror. It was something else…something far more concerning.
Callum Whitlock looked up at August…andsmiled.
“Well, General Hughes. You’ve certainly surprised me,” he muttered, sauntering back toward the entrance to the tent. He kept his hands shoved in his pockets, eyes locked on August the entire time. “Who knows…you might prove to be useful afterall.”
And then he was gone, waltzing out of the tent without a backward glance, and August was left with the terrible feeling that somehow, despite everything, Callum had gotten exactly what he wanted.
18
MASIKA
Sleep was an elusive beast. It lingered in the periphery of Masika’s mind, taunting her with the promise of rest. If she could sleep, she could silence her thoughts, if only for a brief moment. She could slip away from anxiety’s pointed claws, hiding from the interminable doubt that plagued her nearly every waking moment. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried—she had. She’d closed her eyes and willed her mind to stop, desperately attempting to convince her body to succumb to the darkness…but she couldn’t.
She felt too restless.
Too shaken.
It had grown worse since they’d settled for the night, camping just beyond the willow tree. They’d collectively decided to resume their trek toward the next clue the following morning, allowing for the initial shock of the day’s events to wear off. It appeared the new map would lead them farther east, snaking a path through the forest, stopping at a strange outcropping marked by what seemed to be a small building.
Masika winced as she recalled the way the tree roots had wrapped themselves around her neck, squeezing the air out of her lungs. The whole thing had left her feeling off-kilter. Not to mention the fact that they’d nearly lost Olivier. She still wasn’t sure howhe’d managed to get free of the roots. Maybe it had simply been a delayed reaction after the final riddle. But Masika hadswornshe’d felt something when she’d placed her hand on Olivier’s shoulder. A strange jolt. A current.
It was probably nothing.
Just her imagination playing tricks on her.
Now Masika shifted beneath her flimsy blanket, desperate to get comfortable. The ground was hard and uneven, bits of earth digging into her spine. The starless sky provided no light, just a vast blanket of darkness, an empty void. Before retiring, Catherine had lit a small fire, which currently illuminated the slumbering crew in a wispy orange glow.
Emilio and Olivier were curled in toward one another, knuckles brushing, their chests rising and falling in almost perfect synchronization. Next to them, Dina slept with her hands still wrapped around her daggers and Benji cuddled up on her stomach. The healer slept beside her, the ghost of a smile on her lips.
And then there was Catherine.
She was sleeping far away enough that Masika couldn’t touch her, but close enough that she could see the details of Catherine’s face in the warm haze of the campfire. Her tawny hair, which she usually fashioned into an array of intricate braids, had come undone throughout the day. Now, a few loose strands brushed the delicate skin of her temples, with one particular tendril resting against her lips. Masika resisted the urge to scoot close enough to tuck the loose strand of hair behind Catherine’s ear. It was a gesture she normally wouldn’t have hesitated to make. But that was before. And now…now the mere thought of touching Catherine filled Masika with dizzyingfear.
But still, those old memories clung to her, unwilling to let go.
Masika and Catherine were in the Main Yard, lying on a blanket, Masika’s head resting on Catherine’s lap. They’d just finished a rather grueling psyche exam, and Masika could still feel the stubborn aftereffects coursing through her body, the familiar exhaustion that accompanied mind-focused tests. Catherine seemed equally drained, though Masika couldn’t help but notice there was something different about the other girl. A detached, faraway look in her eyes that sent a strange chill down Masika’s spine.
“What are you thinking about?” Masika asked, looking up at Catherine. When the other girl answered, her voice barely floated over the gentle whistle of the breeze.
