14. Freedom
I barely noticed that the flames had disappeared from my body or that the furious drumbeat and the chanting had fallen silent, I was so overwhelmed by the terrifyingly realistic image of Fiona’s dead eyes. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. The atrium was fine, Veronique was in her statue until Sofie released her, Caden and my friends were safe.
But the fear still gripped me, even as the tribesmen hooked their pronged poles to the platform and brought me down from my perch. In seconds I was at ground level beside the fire pit, still kneeling and unable to move. The tribeswomen flocked forward to surround me. One of them bent and reached toward me with her snakeskin-covered hands—toward my chest. Toward my pendant, still hanging around my neck.
I watched in a catatonic state as she cupped the pendant with both hands, then closed her fist over it. And then yanked on the chain.
I heard the snap as the clasp broke. My breath caught as I waited for the onslaught of agony that I’d felt the last time the chain broke. I was still waiting for it as the tribeswoman placed the pendant on my palm. She gave it a gentle pat and stepped away.
I looked down at the once-deadly black heart nestled in my palm, now harmless. Tears slid down my cheeks. The Death Tribe had freed me of my curse. I was finally free.
My first instinct was to thank the chief. Too wobbly-legged to stand, I crawled off the planks. Somehow I managed to push to my feet, the pendant clutched tightly in my grasp. I squinted through the dark, seeking the bright-feathered headdress. There it was, about fifteen feet away. But the chief’s attention was glued elsewhere—on the jungle. His men had lined up on either side of him, spears at the ready.
There was no need to be so on edge with Max . . . So who was out there? “Sofie?” I called hopefully, my voice trembling.
Feline snarls and roars erupted, tribesmen shouted. To my left, a tiger yelped in pain. My head whipped in that direction in time for me to see a body flying out of the darkness into the tribal throng, stabbing at them with multiple spears and scattering them before landing two feet away from me.
Rachel’s citrine snake eyes locked on me, glittering with hateful intentions.