Séverin kicked at him, his eyes wild and his hands clamped over his ears. His lips moved so quickly that Enrique caught only a handful of words:

TRAP … DON’T LISTEN … AMPLIFIERS.

A flash of movement caught Enrique’s gaze. Zofia stood in the water, her hands grasping at the air. Thirty meters away, the skeletons slouched toward her.

Laila yanked on Zofia’s hand, her mouth opened in silent yelling.

“Zofia!” called Enrique.

But she didn’t turn her head. She was shaking, sobbing, her hand stretched out. Laila kept tugging on her, but Zofia didn’t move.

The siren’s song is the last beautiful thing you see before death.

Too late, Enrique realized what was happening. It made sense that Laila, mostly Forged herself, would not be affected by a mind Forged manipulation running through the cave. But Hypnos? Séverin? Zofia? They were all at risk.

Images of Zofia pulled beneath the black waves shot through Enrique’s head. Nausea gripped his gut. He almost ran to her right then before Séverin elbowed him out of the way. He jerked his head behind Enrique, his words unintelligible except for one thing:

AMPLIFIERS.

“Why would I do that?” asked Enrique. “What if it just amplifies their song and makes the illusion more powerful?”

But if Séverin heard him, he did not answer. Instead, he ran after Zofia and Laila. Enrique spun around to see Hypnos stumbling toward him, a wild look in his eyes. His hands were clamped over his ears.

Ears.

That was it! If he could get out more beeswax, than the mind Forged song wouldn’t affect any of them. Enrique fumbled for the rucksack slung around his hip. He tore it open, his hands trembling as he brought out the pale box. Surely there would be enough for all of them. He had just counted out a fifth piece when a violent tremor slammed through the ground.

Enrique stumbled backwards, the wax pieces falling from his hands and sinking into the water. Lightning spangled across the cavern. In the slim space where the lake water split into two, a glowing structure creakily jutted out of the silt. It was a bridge, made of interlocked bone. It stretched from one end of the lake to the other, and the moment it broke free of the dirt, the black rock wall on the other side of the cave glowed brightly. A flash of amber scuttled across its surface, rendering it translucent. For a split second, Enrique glimpsed the temple that lay on the other side: huge and jagged, flanked by silent automaton guardians.

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.

Enrique pointed at the bridge. “Go!” he yelled to Séverin. “RUN!”

Laila looked to Zofia.

“I’ve got her!” said Enrique.

Laila gave a sharp nod. She and Séverin ran, water splashing around their legs as they reached for the bridge of bones. The moment Laila touched it, the bridge glowed brighter.

“Zofia!” called Enrique.

But Zofia did not move. Even with Hypnos’s song hopefully drowning out the siren’s song, it was as if Zofia were choosing the siren. She shook her head. The illusion of the girl grew stronger, the bones of the skeleton were hardly visible. She looked at Enrique, smiling widely.

Her grin was clear: I win.

“NO!” screamed Enrique. “Zofia, come on!”

He reached out to grab her hand when the skeleton-illusion swiped out a bony claw. It snagged on his bandages, loosening them. For the first time, sound rushed in. Hypnos’s song broke off, and he gasped for air.

In those few seconds, an unearthly music filled Enrique’s senses. It was unlike anything he had ever heard—like the sound of honeyed light and the throaty laugh of daydreams. The song diffused through him like sugar in hot milk, and he might have stayed in that moment for eternity if Hypnos hadn’t jabbed him sharply and, once more, began to sing.

Enrique shook himself.

Water sloshed around her ankles as Zofia walked, hand in hand with the skeleton, into the lake.

“No!” he cried out. “Wait!”

For the first time, Zofia paused. She looked over her shoulder. Enrique lunged forward to snatch her arm and drag her away when the skeleton snapped her teeth. Enrique heard its voice in his head: bitter and sly.