here. Harper’s voice made me stop. “Don’t! Caspian, leave him alone. It’s Herbert!”
In a second, Phoenix’s words rang in my head, reminding me that Herbert was a friend, not a foe. Herbert was the one responsible for Harper’s return. I put my sword away and my hands out in a peaceful gesture, staring at the slightly shimmering figure. It revealed itself, drawing a gasp from Fiona, who instinctively tightened her hold on little Sophia.
Harper pushed herself into a standing position inside the pool.
“Sorry, Herbert,” I said. “Forgive my reaction.”
The ghoul straightened its hunched back, becoming significantly taller than me. It blinked several times, watching me curiously, while I took a few seconds to wrap my head around its appearance. I’d never seen a ghoul before, except in various illustrations in GASP manuals.
“How are you feeling?” Herbert asked Harper.
“What is he saying?” Fiona asked. “I know he’s saying something. It’s that whispery language of theirs.”
“What do you mean? Don’t you understand him?” I replied, not immediately realizing that Harper and I were the only ones who could make out what he was saying. Fiona gave me a confused look.
Harper smiled. “You’re a sentry, Caspian,” she said. “Well, a Mara-sentry. And Herbert chose to let you hear him, like he lets me. Everyone else will hear their whispered words, unable to make sense of what they’re saying,” she said and looked at Herbert. “I’m good. A little cold, but I’ll be okay. Thank you, Herbert.”
The ghoul nodded slowly. Zane took a moment to reach out to Phoenix through his earpiece, letting him know that Harper was back and awake. A second later, Herbert purred like a giant cat, lighting up from the inside. His veins glowed white as he smiled, revealing his long fangs.
“The spell… Ibrahim released me,” he said, as the shine faded within. “I am free.”
“You’ve earned it,” Harper replied. “I wouldn’t be here without your help.”
“I’m sorry the same might not be said for your Hermessi friend.” He sighed, his shoulders dropping.
I didn’t follow. “What do you mean?”
Harper told us what happened, from the moment she and Ramin made it to Yahwen, to their temporary reunion on Neraka’s moon. It pained me to hear that he’d been attacked by his Hermessi brethren. That was an ally lost, and a powerful one, too. However, glancing around at the wall torches in this pool chamber alone, I could tell that Ramin wasn’t dead.
“But the fires are still burning,” Fiona said. “Surely, we’d feel it if something happened to him, right?”
“I suppose so, yes,” Harper replied.
“There were many Hermessi coming at him,” Herbert told me. “Not just from Neraka. We could see them, coming off the stardust streams that flow by.”
“It means Brendel was waiting for him,” I concluded. “But she didn’t kill him. So, either he somehow managed to escape or she captured him.”
That brought on another question from Zane. “If she captured him, what would that be for? It’s not like she can reeducate him into working for the ritual. She literally took his son, and he still went in there and figured out where she’s keeping the children.”
“Speaking of which,” Harper said, “I know where the twenty-planet solar system is. I know where Yahwen is, where they’re keeping the children. And the Hermessi have no idea.”
That was, perhaps, the single most valuable piece of information about the Hermessi that we’d gathered so far. It opened up a throng of new possibilities, because it could also help draw Kabbah to our side. If he knew where his daughter was being kept, he’d be more likely to help us against his evil brethren. On top of that, it gave us two new missions to focus on—finding a way to get the Hermessi children out of there and figuring out whether there was a way to render that solar system useless for the Hermessi’s ritual.
Herbert purred, blinking slowly. “This feels so nice and warm. It’s a shame I’ll have to leave this behind.”
“What’s he saying?” Zane asked, frowning at the ghoul. Even though he’d helped Harper, the daemon king didn’t trust a soul-eater, and I understood why. After all, Zane had been raised to be a soul-eater, too, by his father, Shaytan. Until not that long ago, Neraka had been a cesspool of living, breathing ghouls, in a way. They didn’t have subtle forms or ghastly appearances, but they consumed the spirits of innocent people.
There was never anything truly good about creatures who fed on something so pure, in his eyes, and