Lights flash in front of Heli's eyes as he pitches forward. He lands hard on his shoulder, crumpling onto the hard stone. Eugene is shouting, but there's a rushing in his ears and he can't understand what he's saying. He reaches for the sword hilt, his hands shaking violently as he tries to work the blade out of his chest. Somewhere above him, Lamia laughs.

He blocks the sound of her voice out, acutely aware of the shallowness of his breath. More shouting voices join, echoing through the cavern.

"Eugene, what's going on? What's happened?"

"Jaan! Wait there a minute!"

"But wasn't that-?"

A hand grips his shoulder and Viken's wide-eyed face comes into view.

"Holy- are you alright?"

"Obviously not," Heli gasps. Viken grabs his arm.

"Wait! You're supposed to leave things in, otherwise you'll bleed out."

"I can't heal with it like this," Heli says. "I'll be fine, just help me."

Viken grimaces but takes hold and gives the sword a tug. As it frees from Heli's chest they both topple back, the blade clattering to the stone floor. Rather than instant relief, Heli's head is swimming. The whole cavern is tilting sideways when Viken scrambles up to lift him by the shoulders. Blood pours down his front, soaking his clothes.

The cavern is still unusually bright. Lamia is nowhere to be seen, and he's sitting in the middle of what seems to be a glowing circle. Eugene kneels down, his face red and sweaty. On the other side of the glow Jaan stands, bouncing with apparent eagerness to enter and inspect Heli for himself.

"I made a barrier," Eugene says, his voice soft but urgent. He picks up the sword and takes a long look at its bloody blade. "Lamia won't be able to follow us for a while at least. Let's get back to Circe's side of the island before it wears off."

"That's not enough," Heli mumbles as Viken and Eugene lift him to his feet. "She'll just beat us there, we can't win."

"It's working so far," Eugene says.

"Where did she go?"

Eugene quietly laughs. Heli can barely move his feet as Viken and Eugene all but drag him behind the edge of the magic circle where Jaan waits. He frowns, but otherwise takes Heli's arms without a word, which Heli appreciates. He knows he's in a bad way, and doesn't need anyone making a big fuss about it. He'll recover, even if he still hasn't caught his breath and is trailing blood as they slowly traverse back down into the tunnels of the caves.

"I told Jakah and the others to head back," Jaan says. "There weren't any more Shadows, they should be safe."

"Right," Heli wheezes. He's still struggling to breathe, leaning more heavily into Jaan with every step. Each movement renews the pain, which he had assumed would start abating by now.

As Eugene explains his barrier spell, Heli only half listens. He's choking, and the flow of blood from his wound isn't slowing.

"I figured out enough from some of the scrolls, Circe's magic seems to be sun-based. No wonder Lamia wouldn't want to cross her, really. But I think she has some sort of spell on the island that's meant to keep Lamia away from her specifically. A sun-based barrier was just an amazing idea, it worked even better than I-"

"Eugene, hold up a moment."

Heli is draped over Jaan's arm, completely unable to hold himself up properly. Jaan sets him down, and his head rolls to the side. He groans as Jaan holds him in a sitting position. He wants to lay down and sleep, surely a good rest will fix this and make the pain cease for just a bit.

"Isn't he healing?" Viken crouches down. "He's still bleeding."

"He should be," says Jaan behind him. "There's not some other side effects to the curse on that thing, right?"

Eugene looks down at 'that thing', the sword in his hands and shakes his head. "The curse on the sword is about battle integrity."

"Definitely not ensuring its targets die? Nothing like that?"

"The wound he has would kill any mortal already, they weren't thinking about vampires when this was forged."

"I'm fine, really," Heli murmurs as he leans back into Jaan's shoulder. "Just let me rest a minute."

"You're not fine," Jaan says in a low voice. "Look."

He takes Heli's hand and lightly rubs the skin. Fine dust flakes off and comes away on Jaan's fingers.

"You're dying."

"No, that's not, that, I can't be-"

His voice gives out before he can finish the thought. He can't even feel his arms anymore, his whole body is cold. Sure the wound was serious, but there was no way it could be fatal. The sword missed his heart. Besides, the Shadows all crumbled to dust within seconds. Yet here he was, slowly fading away.

"Could it have nicked his heart?" Eugene offers.

"It's hard to tell," Viken says. "I can't see where the wound is exactly, there's too much blood."

He reaches out and starts undoing the top buttons of Heli's shirt. At the second or third one, he pauses, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Heli can feel a pulling at the back of his neck.

"What's wrong?" asks Jaan.

"There's a chain wrapped around the button, I can't-"

A small snap sounds the breaking of the delicate silver chain, and the locket that had been around Heli's neck falls into Viken's hand.

"Give it to me," Heli manages, tapping Viken with his open hand. Viken moves his own arm away as he turns the tiny locket over in his palm.

"What the hell? Why is this so heavy?"

"Let me see it," Eugene offers.

"No, give it back," Heli begs, but they both ignore his pleas. Eugene takes the locket from Viken and holds it by the chain, letting it swing as he examines the locket.

Heli tries to lift himself up, but Viken pushes him back down. Not that it takes much effort. Blood is still leaking from the hole in his chest as Viken pulls back the torn shirt, peeling it away from his soaked skin.

"I think you're right, if it missed his heart, it was just barely," says Jaan. "Combined with exhaustion and a diet of old animal blood, the blood loss may just be adding up to more than he has the energy to heal now."

"So, what can we do?"

"Please give it back…"

Jaan and Eugene mull over their options, talking about Heli as if he wasn't sitting there between them.

"Healing herbs?" Viken suggests. "You must have something."

"Too many are for purification though, " Eugene says. "We might end up killing him faster."

"Any other spells then?"

Eugene is careful to keep the locket out of Heli's reach. Not that he has the strength to lift his arm anyway. His skin is turning a sickly grey colour, the flesh pulling as it begins to dry out.

"We have to try putting blood in him," says Jaan.

"What's left in the cooler?"

"He's not going to make it long enough to get back to the boat."

They pause for a moment.

"I'll do it, then," Viken says. He shrugs off his patch-covered jacket and rolls up a sleeve. "If nothing else, my blood will help."

"No," Heli says.

"No?" Jaan repeats. "You heard me right? You're not getting out of here if we don't do something right now, and I don't have any better ideas."

"I can't," Heli says. He can't imagine feeling any worse, but new pain is radiating through his body and his left arm spasms. He clenches his jaw and turns his head away.

"Heli, seriously?" Jaan sighs. "You really want to die here?"

No, of course not. But at the same time he's tired. Tired of slow deaths and ultimatums, having to choose or his fate being chosen for him. He doesn't want to die, but then again he never chose to be an undead monster either. Given the choice he wouldn't be here at all, but at home, wrapped up in front of the fireplace with a soft blanket, falling asleep to the laugh track of the television.

"You can't go home if you give up now," says Viken. "I'll give my blood to you, even if it hurts, won't you endure it this once?"

Viken's eyes are pleading as he offers his arm. There's no way Heli could imagine feeling any worse than he does now.

"Okay," Heli whispers, but he's spent. He slumps down in Jaan's arms as he vision begins to fade.

"Let me see the sword," Jaan says.

Heli can't see what happens next. He hears Viken let out a sharp breath as the scent of fresh blood fills his nose. Jaan lifts his head and hot, burning liquid drips into his mouth.

He can hardly call it pleasant with his own injured heart screaming for him to stop. He doesn't taste anything at all. He's both hot and cold, writhing in terrible pain, yet at the same time giving in to complete numbness.

When he opens his eyes again, Viken is cradling a bleeding arm. Sensation returns to his body, a dull throbbing at first, until it fades away. He sits up, lifting himself from Jaan's arm. The hole in his chest is closing. He watches as the skin merges back together. He's covered in blood and completely drained but remarkably otherwise feels alright. His hands shake as he flexes his fingers. No one says a word as he stands, using a hand on the cave wall to steady himself. He takes a refreshingly deep breath.

"You picked a hell of a time to assert yourself," Eugene nervously laughs. "We're all good to go now, right?"

"I'm sorry," Heli mumbles. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"This is nothing," Viken says with a smile.

He would never admit it if he wasn't, Heli knows that. Here they are saving him yet again. He turns to Eugene, his eyes on the locket dangling from his fist.

"I'll take that back now."

He holds out a hand but Eugene steps back.

"No. I'm not giving this back," he says.

"Why not?"

Eugene takes a deep breath, raising the locket. "This thing is cursed."

Heli doesn't make any move to put down his hand.

"What are you talking about?"

"You didn't think it was absurdly heavy for something so small? You've been wearing it all these years. Where did it come from?"

"I got it from…" Heli pauses. Someone had given it to him hadn't they? The shadow of a silhouette appears in his mind. "I got it from someone in the orphanage?"

"What kind of someone?" Eugene presses.

Heli blinks, trying to remember. He knows, he knows he does, but the details are escaping him, and he's struggling to pin down the facts.

"Why don't we head back and-" Jaan starts but Heli interrupts.

"One of the teachers," Heli says. "She told me it was an heirloom."

"We don't want Lamia to come back and-" Jaan pulls Heli's sleeve but he doesn't budge, locked in a standstill with Eugene.

"You don't mean one of the teachers who died the night of the fire do you?"

Jaan continues his attempts to pull Heli away as Viken's eyes dart between them.

"Yes, that's right," says Heli.

"Unbelievable," Eugene says. "Please don't tell me you're seriously still protecting Lamia!"

"Lamia? It's not her locket."

"She killed all the teachers that night, didn't she?"

"Yes, but-"

"This is a curse that hurts vampires! Thinking about blood, thinking about hurting someone activates it. Doesn't it seem obvious? And you've been wearing this! Why?"

"So what?" Heli's voice rises as he grows impatient. "It's not related to Lamia."

"Of course it is!" Eugene retorts. "This curse was meant for her, and you've been suffering with it instead. Did she make you wear this? Was that part of her brainwashing too?"

"There's nothing like that," Heli says. "She didn't make me do anything."

"Why else would you take on someone else's curse?"

"Lamia has nothing to do with it."

"She killed your teacher, did she not? And this curse was created by-"

"It wasn't Lamia!" Heli shouts, his hands clenching into fists as anger rises in his chest. "I did it! I killed her!"

All the air seems to be sucked out of the cave as the words leave his mouth.

"I killed her," he repeats, barely audible.

The world slows. Eugene's mouth falls open and an expression of shock and perhaps disgust cross Viken's features. And Jaan…Jaan is looking at him with the same face he had that night. The look of terror and despair as he pulled Heli away from her, his mouth full of blood, the locket chain breaking in his hand where it had become tangled between his fingers. He crumples to his knees. He feels like he's shattering, his thoughts breaking apart into a million pieces as his mind replays the memories he'd repressed. Screaming fills his ears. He thought it had been her voice searing through his mind, but now he knows.

Then, just like now, it was his.

How could he forget? The hand that had held his through the years falls from his grasp. She hadn't been just anyone, not just a random victim to circumstance. She had warned him about leaving the safety of her sight. She had been right all along.

A sword to the chest doesn't even compare to what he feels now. Rather than a quick slice, there's a sledgehammer, pounding his very heart into dust as what's left of him pours from the gaping hole that had been his chest. Nothing else is real. The floor of the cavern pitches and buckles beneath him.

You're a killer, and a monster, and you deserve every bad thing that's ever happened…

Accusations run through his mind until the words begin to overlap, skip and distort like a broken record until any coherent thought in his brain is nothing more than a violently, shaking dark mass.

Somehow Eugene's voice cuts through the chaos.

"Calm him down before he makes another curse!"

Someone wraps their arms around his shoulders. He shrugs them off, but they pull him in again.

"Heli, listen-" Viken is speaking on his right but Heli covers his ears.

"Don't you dare start singing," he snaps.

Viken backs away and says nothing more.

"It wasn't your fault," Jaan says.

How could it not be? None of the rest of them had lost control, even with their newly awakened thirst for blood. None of the rest of them had killed anybody. The renewed thought sends him back into a spiral, and he can't bring himself to speak anything coherent.

He doesn't want to think anything at all.

When the screams dissolve into sobs he doesn't resist when Jaan lifts him. Aside from soft weeping, they exit the caves in silence. Heli can feel the air change. The cool, refreshing feel of moonlight on his skin is an insult. He should crawl back into the damp, stuffy caverns and hide himself forever from anything good.

"I see them!" Jakah shouts. Running footsteps approach, then stop abruptly.

They must be a real sight, tired with downcast faces, and Heli crying into Jaan's shoulder, coated in his own blood.

"Is Lamia…?"

"No," says Jaan.

"Heli is…?"

"No," Jaan says again.

Heli doesn't open his eyes when Jaan puts him down. He doesn't try to hold himself up, or speak. He feels completely disengaged, he's a floating head and his body is somewhere else. Cold water washes his face, then someone peels off his clothes and cleans the blood from his body. He's manoeuvred into dry clothing and someone wipes off his face again. He's placed on a bed and given the lack of rocking, assumes he's somewhere in the ancient house rather than on the boat.

Soft light illuminates around the covered edges of the sole window on the other side of the room, indicating morning has come. He doesn't sleep, or look up when the sound of footsteps approaches.

"I brought a blanket, if you want." Viken speaks quietly with a tentative tone, as if afraid.

Heli doesn't respond.

"If it would help you feel better I could-"

Heli curls up, his hands over his ears.

"Okay, I understand." With a heavy sigh, Viken unfurls the thin blanket and drapes it over Heli's pathetic figure. "I can just sit here, you know and listen, if you want me to…"

His voice trails off with a hopeful timbre. How could Viken even stand to look at him? He's not just a killer but a liar, pretending all this time to be holding onto a shred of innocence that was long lost.

Go away.

Instead of leaving, Viken sits at the edge of the bed. He doesn't hum or sing, or say anything at all. Even his presence radiates warmth, but no sense of comfort reaches Heli. He's falling into an infinite void, while his mind screams curses and accusations.

Quite some time passes before Viken rises.

"I'll come back later. Try to get some sleep, okay?"

Heli doesn't sleep, not when the morning light turns to the warmth of afternoon to the deep orange of evening.

Some time later Shion's cheery voice announces his arrival.

"Here's some blood for you, be sure to drink it!"

He doesn't.

When Jaan comes and tries to pull the blanket off his head, he just grips it more tightly and refuses to budge.

"I'd like it if you talked to me but if you don't want to then just listen," Jaan says. "That night, everything was happening so fast, no one knew where you were, all those vampires from the carnival had shown up. If we could go back and do things differently, I'm sure every one of us would agree on it. I would have gotten to both of you first. Things didn't work out that way, and I'm sorry. By the time Noa led me to you it was too late. We tried to save her, we really did. You were hysterical and we didn't know what else to do."

That's right. It had been Jaan who pulled him away from her. Jaan and Jakah, and every one of them all knew this whole time. What must they have been thinking when they made their promises to each other, fully aware he'd already broken them.

Broken like the life he took. He muffles fresh sobs under the safety of the blanket.

"We were all just lost kids then," Jaan says. "I said that before. I wish you would let us help you but you're stuck in that spot."

Help? Heli can't imagine anything that would possibly make anything better. He can't change the past or give life back. They all went on with their lives, and he'd spend years upon years alone. He doesn't want to see anyone, and if they're all going to come up one by one to try and comfort him, they'll waste their time.

Maybe Jaan should experience the isolation for himself. Malice curls in Heli's chest, but as he's about to send all his ill-will Jaan's way, Jaan takes a step back.

"If you want to sit things out this time, that's fine too. We'll take care of everything."

Jaan leaves but isn't out of earshot when Jakah joins him.

"We should have told him from the start," Jaan says. "I don't know why you were so intent on keeping this a secret."

"Because I knew what would happen!" Jakah snaps back. "And look, I was right. From the instant it was clear he blocked it all out, I knew it would be a bad idea-"

Their voices fade as they move their argument out of earshot. For a brief moment he wonders what happens now, but the thought quickly leaves his mind. There is nothing now, he's failed. He failed to protect the people who loved him, he failed in freeing himself from Lamia, everything.

"I don't want to give this back, but at the same time I think I should," Eugene sneaks in at Heli's back. "Since you seem determined to punish yourself one way or another."

Heli doesn't need to look to understand what Eugene is referring to.

"I even fixed the chain and tried to clean off the blood." He drops the locket near Heli's hand. "I was really confused, at first. I should have recognised that the locket was a cursed object. I thought you were cursed, but turns out there isn't much of a difference. The locket's so closely tied to your heart because…well it must have belonged to someone really important to you."

He pauses to wait for a response that doesn't come.

"We've, I mean I should say Shion, has a new idea. Another plan to force Lamia out. We'll get her, so why don't you get up and come downstairs?"

Silence.

"I'm sorry for all the things that have happened to you, but you're really going to let them go alone?"

Still Heli doesn't move, and he has no intention to. Eugene taps his foot, growing annoyed.

"Fine. I can't make you do anything. So just stay here then, crying out the blood Viken gave you, while the rest of us do what needs to be done."

Eugene leaves. Sullen voices drift away as the presence of everyone except Heli leaves the house. Only when he's sure he's alone does he finally sit up and return the locket to its place around his neck.

Comforting isn't the word he'd use to describe the sensation of having the locket back. Rather he feels like his heart is outside his body, and that alone is nominally better. Inside hurts just too much. An empty, gaping hole where it should have been he can work with.

He sits, staring into the dark room in a daze. If nothing else he's at least curious about what Shion might have come up with, wipes his face with a sleeve and slips off the bed.

The central room of the house looks to have been turned into a hub for their war plans. Scrolls lay unrolled across a dusty wooden table alongside Taho's own notes now adorned with more of Eugene's handwriting. Most of the additions are symbols and cyphers, the most Heli can make out is the word "HELIOS". As he scans the papers the scrolls rustle, as if a gentle breeze has passed through the room, despite the deathly still air. One particularly large manuscript catches his eye on the other side of the table. He lets it float into his hand for a better look.

Faded ink graces the parchment, but the outline and markings of a map are still plainly visible. The island's caves and tunnels and aboveground features are drawn and labelled in a fine and delicate hand. He traces over the path they'd taken the night previous. There are a lot more twists and tunnels than he remembers, open caverns and spaces that Lamia could still be hiding. Nothing else in front of him gives any hints about where exactly they are heading.

The scrolls rustle again, and this time feels like a gentle pull. They're calling him, flickering in the shadows of the empty house, pleading with him to go back down into the caves. He obeys, rolling up the scroll and he makes his way back through the library and down until he's again standing at the edge of the pool from which he'd pulled Shion. There's no sense of urgency this time. He kneels on the rock. Unlike the night previous, the water is agitated, and splashes over the edge of the pool. Foam forms on the rough waves.

"You're throwing a fit too," he says to the water. "I don't know what you have to be upset about. You're not-"

His chest tightens.

"I didn't mean to do it! I didn't want to! I just…"

But you did.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, but I can't take it back, I can't do anything."

His thoughts are as tumultuous as the waves as he buries his face in his hands. Rivulets of pink tears slide from his chin into the water, disappearing as they disperse on the waves. He's an absolute mess, no wonder everyone readily accepted that he'd just walked out into the sun. Clearly they had a better grasp on his own mental state than he did. They were none the worse for everything that happened either.

Of course, that's why Jaan walked off into the night, Solon sought solace alone in the wilderness, and Shion took Noa with him on a fruitless quest, and for what?

He watches the push and pull of the water and the scattered treasure just under the surface. Should he just stay here and let the others handle it, like Jaan said? Try to find them? Did he even want to help them?

Great change requires great sacrifice.

Those were Lamia's words, weren't they? Nothing feels real anymore. All the things that happened before now feel like another lifetime, or a dream. The cave echoes with soft whispers.

There are places even Lamia won't go. Things she doesn't know about. Horrors from which a vampire cannot escape.

He unrolls the scroll again, taking one more good long look at the map. Whatever he decides to do, he has to decide by himself. And whatever he chooses now will change everything.

He can't go on like this.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath and closes his eyes. First, he closes his mind completely, shutting tight the door he'd learned to open and close on his thoughts. Everyone may already know how he feels, but he doesn't need to project his anguish in real time. He splashes his face with a bit of cold water from the pool, and stands.

As he walks a plan formulates in his mind. Pulling it off would require more than a little bit of luck, and he's a bit grey on the exact details. Thuds and shouts echo throughout the cave as he makes his way forward, but instead of going towards them, he makes a turn into a different direction. At the end he reaches a staircase, similar to the one under Circe's house and ascends into a smaller building, though of similar architecture. Unlike the decorated walls, this interior is bare. He follows the flickering of candlelight and finds himself in a large, open room.

A black, scale-covered snake skin coils in the centre. It shifts ever so slightly as Heli enters. He can't see the head or the tail, just an endless loop.

"Did you come to try and finish the job?" Lamia's voice echoes in the room.

Heli keeps his face blank as the coils of the snake twist around each other as they shrink and deflate. From the scales, Lamia emerges draped in black.

"You smell delicious, Heli," she smiles. "Like blood and tears. My favourite."

He braces for her advance but she doesn't come any closer. Instead her eyes scan up and down his body. For her part, she appears completely healed, but for some reason she's keeping her distance.

If she's hesitant that's all the better for him.

"Where are your friends? Did they leave you, again?"

He can't help the twitch of an eyebrow.

"They're on their way here," he says, keeping his voice low. "You should have worried more about their revenge than me."

She shrugs. "Makes no difference to me if I have to crush one or all of you."

"Don't you want to know what they have planned?"

"Does it matter?"

"Would it matter if I told you they're going to use magic they learned from Circe?"

Lamia narrows her eyes. "She would never share her secrets with the likes of us."

"She's not actually here, but her magic is. All her enchantments, her will is still on the island. Can't you hear her? She let us into her house, she must just really not like you."

"Bluffing is not a skill you possess. You sound ridiculous."

It's Heli's turn to shrug. "You may not believe me, but I saw all the notes. Something about Helios, and-"

In an instant, Lamia is directly in front of her face, her eyes boring into Heli's.

"I know your head's not empty, and I don't think you're that clever. What do you think you're playing at? Why are you not helping them? What are you scheming?"

Heli fights every urge to step back. He can feel her breath on his face, they're practically touching.

He raises his hands.

"I'm not armed. I don't have anything I can use against you. I don't have any reason to help them either, do I? Not after they abandoned me, just like you did."

She backs up, just a little bit.

"So you came to warn me in an attempt to make amends? Oh, you're just so foolish!"

She laughs. He doesn't refute her, but continues keeping a neutral face.

"If you don't want me, then I'll leave, and you can take your chances."

He turns to walk away.

"How did you find Circe's house?"

He stops. He half expected Lamia to just lunge from behind, and this demand is a slight surprise.

"We just walked in. If you want to know about her magic," he pauses, trying to balance his genuine ignorance with enough insight that will keep her interested. "I can't understand magic spells, everything is all symbols. Why don't you go look at Circe's scrolls for yourself?"

She scoffs. From beneath them a large rumble shakes the stone floor.

"Very well," she says slowly. He can feel her pushing and prodding at the corners of his mind, but he remains steadfast. Frustration at being unable to see his thoughts is etched on her face. "Show me Circe's house."

"You must really be afraid of her."

Long nails of her vice-like grip dig into his head.

"You wouldn't have come here if you too didn't understand the power of Circe's secrets! Bring me the scrolls from her library, and I'll consider tearing your head off quickly so you don't have to watch as I destroy all your little friends."

She pushes his head forward as she lets go.

"You'll come with me, right?" he says.

"Afraid for your friends after all?"

"I just want to be there."

She gives him a sideways glance but leads the way out of the house and into the clear night. The moon high overhead is bright enough to light their way as they start down a narrow trail through a grove of trees. He doesn't need to hear her thoughts to know going back through the tunnels was out of the question if Eugene was filling them with Circe's brand of magic.

Whatever spat had gone on between Circe and Lamia seems to extend beyond the misuse of a name. Even when Circe's not present, Lamia hasn't ventured into her territory. It seems to him the island's division is more of a truce, making it likely the enchantress and Lamia are equally matched, neither one willing to confront the other.

"You told me this is your home," Heli says. "But this isn't where you're really from."

"If you really care then I'll have you know," Lamia replies. "My original home no longer exists. So what if I'm not from here? I've been everywhere, Heli, and I like this place best. So can I not call it home?"

"Even though Circe-"

"Circe is nothing! When she's gone for good and her spells disappear, I'll have this whole place for myself. Won't that be nice?"

Her face shadows a hint of the excitement she'd radiated the first time she described the island to him. The fields of flowers and soft sand beaches are one thing. She'd failed to mention the terrible monsters and an angry witch, but maybe she assumed he knew they'd be surrounded by dangers. Isn't that just par for the course for the undead? The elusive nature of the island itself would be a haven for anything that spent its days hiding from the mortal world. As long as everyone stayed in their own little piece of it, there was nowhere in the world safer. Perhaps, she was just as taken in by the enchantments.

The path takes them up into the hills. The land drops off sharply, a rocky cliff face down to the beaches below. Heli sticks close to the edge, keeping sight of the ocean. He looks back to find that Lamia has stopped, several paces behind him.

"This is where Circe's barriers begin," she says, frowning. "You passed right through it."

Heli walks back, his hand outstretched.

"I told you, Circe isn't here."

She lifts her own hand, and though he first thinks she's going to push him aside, instead she takes his hand. She steps forward, with a quick glance back, and apparently satisfied, continues with him.

If he remembers correctly, a sharp right will take them back in the direction of Circe's house. He keeps quiet instead, keeping along the cliffside. They're climbing even higher over the sea, the beach whittling away to just a sliver, until there's nothing but a straight drop. As the trees also thin, a breeze picks up, rusting the leaves and casting Lamia's long hair across her face. She hasn't said anything in a while. Her eyes are focussed, as if fighting to retain her composure even here inside Circe's barrier.

With her free hand, she brushes the strands of hair away. A dark hill looms closer, but as they approach, a tunnel cutting through the dirt comes into view. It's not terribly long, and light is clearly visible from the opening at the other end. Lamia looks up at him with an eyebrow raised. Inside the tunnel, the wind grows even stronger.

"Heli," she starts. "If you think-"

She doesn't get the chance to finish, as just as they're nearly to the end, a strong and sudden gust sweeps their feet out from under them. Like a vacuum, the air itself pulls them out, sliding along the dirt, threatening to pull them clear out of the tunnel. Heli manages to grab hold of a jutting piece of rock as Lamia shrieks.

Holding on at the very edge, he looks down. Below them, a jagged cliff face drops straight down into violent, swirling water. Roaring of the rushing sea fills his ears. Between the spirals of black liquid and white foam, circles of sharp, pointed rock descend into the seabed. No, not rock. They shift and snarl as the water rises and falls between them. His hand is firm around Lamia's as she clings to him, her own feet slipping.

"You!" Lamia snarls, her face livid as she scratches and gouges at Heli's face and arms. "How dare you! What have you done?"

He can feel her grip on his hand loosen just slightly as she attempts to transport herself back through the tunnel, but the wind's pull is even stronger than her powers and she can't move.

"Stupid, useless boy!" She looks at him with teeth bared as she screams and curses through the wind. "You think you're so great, don't you? Do you think you can make it out on your own? You're no better than me, you idiot! You're a killer too!"

"I know," Heli shouts back. "That's why I'm going with you."

For once, Lamia's eyes widen and her expression melts into one of surprise, then terror. She reaches out for his face, but he doesn't wait for whatever she has in mind to do to him next. His hand is already slipping from the wet rock, the force of the wind painfully pulling his arm. He won't be able to hold on much longer anyway, so he doesn't.

He lets go.