The sound sent a chill down Yohan's spine. He remembered the rule clearly: "When you hear the bells, stop whatever you're doing and hide."
He glanced around the room quickly, his mind racing. The overturned benches offered little cover, but there was a small alcove near the back of the hall.
"Selene, go!" he hissed, motioning for her to take cover.
The raven flew to the alcove, and Yohan followed, crouching low as the tolling grew louder. Each chime seemed to vibrate through the very fabric of the air, making his chest tighten with unease.
The room grew darker, the faint glow of the lantern outside fading as though smothered by an unseen force.
Then, the whispers began.
They were faint at first, like the rustling of leaves, but soon they grew louder, overlapping and chaotic. Words in a language Yohan couldn't understand filled the air, their tone accusatory and venomous.
