Atop the wall, bodies, like wilting candlewicks, burned.
Turos weaved and dove and climbed through the air ahead, dancing. Celebrating.
Selene could almost taste his satisfaction.
Meanwhile, Gus hovered nearby and watched it all unfold. He wouldn’t join Turos in his elation over dead men, but he wouldn’t rally against it either. These beasts weren’t meant to be wielded or chained, and right now, all that mattered was their freedom.
All of them.
She and Petrina followed Turos and Gus into the forest.
Mother.
Wait.
Stay.
Wait.
No. Not here. Not now. Not again. Augustus was her home. Her breath. Her truth. And she would not be rewritten.
“I can’t tell where we are,” Petrina said. They slowed their pace now that they’d lost the guards. “We have to find our boat.”
Selene peered around. If she could figure out the direction of the waterfall they’d first found, then?—
The world rippled like a song playing a chord too low to hear. No, not the world. The barrier of power around the island.
Michail.
Mother.
Wait.
Michail.
He’s home now.
Stay.
Selene’s breath caught.
Augustus.
From a branch high within the canopy, Gus whimpered. Turos sidled his black-scaled body up against Gus like a dense shadow.
“Why’d you stop?” Petrina asked, glancing over her shoulder.
Selene didn’t answer right away. “Augustus is here,” she said slowly. “I think.”
When the forest next spoke, it was with a single warning:She calls.
Gus flapped his wings so wildly that leaves broke off and fluttered to the ground. He stared through the forest, then his head swiveled to look at her. Fear resonated in those big brown eyes.
A sense of cold dread pooled in her stomach.
“Something’s wrong.”
Augustus felt dizzy and sick. The forest spun in tight circles, and he tripped more than not.
