Even the mere silhouette of it stole his breath. It was tauntingly close, and now they might never reach it.

The skeletons moved closer. Now they were less than fifteen meters from Laila, Séverin, and Zofia. A cold panic shot up Enrique’s spine as he watched Séverin’s expression suddenly go slack.

One moment, he was helping Laila drag Zofia back to shore.

The next, his hands dropped to his side. His eyes went wide, and he smiled.

Images flickered before Enrique, as if the mind Forged artistry was just barely seeping through his bandages. It was as if there was a ghostly overlay of people atop the skeletons.

Six meters away from Séverin, a ghostly Tristan opened his arms. Beside the illusion of Tristan stood a girl who looked a few years older than Zofia. She wore a pale nightgown and reached out her hand. Laila screamed, tugging on both of their arms. Brackish water splashed onto her clothes as she dug her heels in the shallow banks.

Enrique froze. He couldn’t look away from Tristan—his shy smile and tousled blond hair. All he was missing was his tarantula perched on his shoulder. A wild hope seized Enrique. What if it wasn’t an illusion? What if it was a reward for getting this far, and Tristan really was back?

But then the light shifted. Beneath the thin-skinned illusions moved stained bones, and though he could not hear it, Enrique imagined their brittle jaws clacking loudly. He stumbled back, his heart racing.

Hypnos stepped in front of him, his mouth moving and his hands clapped over his ears:

“WHAT DO WE DO?”

Enrique racked his brains. The wax was gone. As far as he knew, blocking out the sound of the sirens was the only way to avoid their call. Enrique stared around the cave before his gaze fell to the boulder.

The sound amplifiers.

They weren’t for amplifying the sound of the temptation … but for drowning it out completely.

“SING!” said Enrique.

Hypnos looked confused. Enrique ran toward the boulders. He grabbed at one of the conical protrusions. Years ago, it must have been lightly attached, but time and humidity had practically welded the brass to the stone. It was stuck fast. Enrique tugged harder. Bits of metal came off on his hand.

Ahead, the skeletons drifted ever closer. Behind them, dozens more skeletons slipped out of the water, their jaws hanging open, necks distended. A frantic rhythm churned through the water. Enrique could feel its hungry pulse climbing through his skin. Enrique closed his eyes, focusing on the protrusions. With a last burst of strength, he tore it off the rock.

He tossed it to Hypnos, shouting: “Sing!”

Hypnos shot him a panicked look and then opened his mouth. Enrique could hear nothing, but he felt the slightest change in the air, as if a gentle breeze had broken through the fog. The once-frantic rhythm spidering through the ground stumbled. The skeletons staggered back.

Enrique grabbed Hypnos’s arm, dragging him forward as they marched toward Séverin, Zofia, and Laila. The noise must have grown louder because now the illusions of Tristan and the other girl snarled. Their nostrils flared. A flat, inhuman look crept into their eyes, turning them completely black. The Tristan illusion reached out his hand, but Séverin jerked back, shaking his head. The skeleton crumpled to the ground and the illusion vanished.