Isabel looked from Hector to Ayela and nodded reluctantly, her anger draining away, only to be replaced with sorrow. She went to Horace, shaking her head and wiping a tear from her face. He looked like he’d been dead for years, his body drained of every vestige of life.
Hector woke more easily than she’d expected, his eyes snapping open when she shook him by the shoulder. He looked up, confusion turning to alarm at the look on her face.
“I’m so sorry, Hector.”
He sat up, looking around, the haze of confusion fading slowly until he saw the form of his dead brother. He took a sharp breath and looked away, as if his unwillingness to believe the horrible reality of the situation could change it.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “Who did this?”
“Hazel,” Isabel whispered.
“But … Hazel loves us.”
“No, she doesn’t. She was using you.”
“I don’t understand,” Hector said, stumbling to his feet and shambling over to his brother, staring at the desiccated corpse with disbelief, then breaking down and sobbing with his head resting on Horace’s breastplate.
Isabel sat down and cried quietly while Hector mourned the loss of his brother. He sobbed for several minutes before he tipped his head back and howled, shattering the silence with his anguish, his death knell reverberating off the ancient stone walls.
“Where is she?” he said, turning away from Horace.
“She fled,” Isabel said, regaining her feet.
“That’s not her?” Hector asked, pointing toward Ayela.
Isabel shook her head sadly. “That’s Ayela … Hazel switched bodies with her.”
He sniffed back his tears and looked at the ground. “Well then, it seems we both have a score to settle.”
“We all do,” Isabel said, taking Hector by the shoulders, “but we have to give Ayela her body back first. Do you understand, Hector?”
He looked at Ayela for a moment and nodded slowly. “Promise me one thing.”
Isabel nodded, knowing what he wanted without him voicing his request.
“Let me be the one to kill her,” Hector said.
She nodded again. “You have my word.”
Ayela didn’t wake quickly. After shaking her, gently slapping her face, and even splashing her with water, they decided they’d just have to wait, knowing full well that every minute widened the gap between them and Hazel.
Hector stood stock-still before the platform where his dead brother lay, a mask of desolation and resolve contorting his face. Isabel left him to his grief.
“You don’t have a sword,” he said, without looking away from his dead brother. “You should take Horace’s blades. They’ve served him well and I know he would want you to have them.”
“Are you sure?”
Hector nodded. “Did you see how she did this?”
“I was just a few minutes too late,” Isabel said, new tears filling her eyes. “Hazel was chanting a series of words over and over again, but I don’t remember what they were.”
“I think I know, I just don’t know how to read them,” he said, pointing to some writing engraved into the side of the platform. “Do you think Lord Reishi is watching?”
Alexander appeared beside him. “I’ve been here the whole time. I’m sorry for your loss, Hector. Your brother was a good man.”
“He was,” Hector said, running his hand along the words on the platform. “Can you read this?”
“No, but I can ask the sovereigns.”
“I would consider it a favor, Lord Reishi.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that I know exactly how I intend to kill that old witch.”
“That’s dangerous business, Hector. I don’t know what it might do to you.”
“I don’t care so long as it kills her.”
“I do care, Hector.”
“Will you tell me what these words say or not, Lord Reishi?”
Alexander held his gaze for a moment, and, seeing the resolution in his eyes, nodded solemnly before vanishing.
Ayela woke an hour later, groggy and disoriented. It took her a few more minutes before she was steady enough to walk.
Hector gave her a knife that Horace had carried for years, then took a necklace and ring that his brother was never without before bidding him a last farewell and turning away.
“I wish we had time to bury him,” Isabel said sadly.
Hector shook his head. “He never liked enclosed spaces anyway.”
They headed out into the cavern filled with cages, this time cautiously exploring, looking for any sign of Hazel. Her footsteps led from the room where she’d sacrificed Horace but stopped abruptly, vanishing without a trace.
“She’s using concealment powder,” Isabel said. “Let’s head for the entrance and see if we can pick up her trail in the hallway.”