Seven Devils ★ T.M.R ★

Chapter Thirty-Five

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THE SILENCE IN BETWEEN
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MARINA COULD HEAR Tom and Herpo speaking in Parseltongue, the whispering sounds of it filling the cavern, echoing, creeping down her spine, drowning out every thought in her mind. She closed her eyes tighter and her fingers curled into fists of Tom's shirt. She wished that they would just leave, that he would just figure out what they needed to know and they could get out of this horrible cave with its ghastly, hellish residents, and never ever come back.

Suddenly there was nothing but ringing silence. Marina went to look up, but Tom held her firm. "Not yet," he breathed.

"Did he tell you?" she whispered. "Does he know if you can..."

"I'm trying," he said hollowly, "he is not... particularly lucid."

Tom said something in Parseltongue and Marina waited with baited breath for Herpo's reply – but it did not come. After a long, drawn out moment, she heard something that was as stomach-turning as it was soul-crushing.

Herpo was laughing. It rasped from him, low, haunting cackles separated by long pauses that made Marina's skin crawl, only exacerbated by the cracking and popping of bones being crushed beneath a monstrous body sliding somewhere nearby.

"Don't open your eyes," Tom hissed, sharply turning her around by the shoulders and pushing her back the way they came. Marina stumbled on the uneven floor and the bones that covered every inch of it, but Tom's hands held her tightly and she didn't even worry about falling.

A strange wrenching sound like metal being torn came from behind them, and Herpo's laughs grew louder behind them as Tom pushed her quickly across the cavern.

"What's going – " she whispered, voice trembling.

Suddenly there was a loud clanging sound of something hitting the wall in front of her and she jumped. Tom sped up their pace as an almighty hiss rung out from the huge snake behind them, followed by a sickening, wet crunch. Herpo's laughter was briefly punctured by a breathy gasp, and Marina understood.

"Is he...?" she breathed, feeling sick.

"Yes," Tom muttered forcefully. "Don't look."

Herpo's rasping, dying laughs echoed after them as Tom guided her blind up the cavern. He didn't even pause when they reached the mouth of the cave, commanding that she keep her eyes shut and pulling her all the way back to the little beach.

The second they were at the boat he let her go and Marina opened her eyes in surprise.

"Get in," Tom said blankly, holding the edge of the boat steady.

She glanced at him, tempted to ask him what had happened, if he was alright – but there was a decidedly agitated edge to the tension in his jaw so she quickly did as he asked. The second he had sat down after her, the scowling fisherman pushed them off the beach with an oar and they were speeding off across the water.

A surreal moment of peaceful silence fell, the calm sounds of the waves and the distant calls of seabirds a stark contrast to the noises of the basilisk's teeth sinking into Herpo's body in the unknown darkness. Their ferryman said nothing, ignoring them completely as he drew them back towards the distant island. Marina wondered if he had noticed that the black parcel they'd brought was now missing.

She chanced a glance at Tom. He was sitting dead straight, one hand on the edge of the boat so tight that his knuckles were white, the other on his leg looking misleadingly relaxed. His face was turned away from her, looking out over the waves silently.