Immortal Consequences(23)
Irene scoffed. “What the hell was that? She barely gave us a slap on the wrist.”
“I don’t know.” Masika had to admit—it was a little weird. Housemaster Violet, who was in charge of watching over the students of Ivory House and taught all classes on spacial magic, was notoriously strict. Which meant her apathy toward their obvious rule-breaking was odd, to say the least. “Maybe she already knows we met with Silas.”
“Great. I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire school finds out by the end of the day.”
Irene flicked her wrist and the double doors sprang open.
Shimmering velvet fabrics in rich jewel tones adorned the main hall of Ivory House—swooping chaise lounges and sprawling rugs with designs that mimicked peacock feathers. A massive glittering chandelier dangled from the black slanted ceiling, illuminating the space along with a row of melted candles set upon dark wooden desks, each of which emanated a purple flame. Just as in all the other buildings in Blackwood, invasive vegetation crawled over the walls, slithering across the floor like snakes. At the far end of the room was a floor-to-ceiling window that gave a clear view of the Main Yard—the large quad, which housed impressive stone sculptures and an intricately carved stone fountain.
Masika had spent countless hours staring out of that window.
Waiting.
“You good?” Irene waved a hand in front of her face.
“I’m fine.” The words slipped out with ease. Masika had mastered the art of appearing fine. And not just while at Blackwood. Even in her old life, the words had come easily to her. A way to mend the dark, splintered cracks.
I’m fine. I’m just tired. Everything is fine.
“All right, well…I’m going to head upstairs and gather my things.” Irene walked to the spiral staircase. “I’ll meet you down here after.”
Masika nodded, though she had already begun to walk toward the window, her mind drifting elsewhere. It happened to her every so often. Like a dense fog taking root in her brain. Sometimes she thought her father was to blame, a lingering by-product of his genetics finally catching up with her. And sometimes she thought it was something else, something bigger than her father, something bigger than Catherine.
She pressed her hand against the cool glass.
Outside, a couple sat under an oak tree, sprawled on a tartan blanket, papers scattered in front of them. They stuck out against the monotony—a glimmer of life among the dead.
There had once been a time when Masika thought she had found that spark. That thing that would motivate her to cling on to her humanity. But she had been so blinded by her own infatuation that she hadn’t noticed the seed blossoming inside Catherine’s heart.
The darkness.
And though Masika had hoped she would be enough to brighten the darkness, to subdue Catherine’s ravenous appetite, she had always known, deep down, that nothing would be enough.
She had always been destined to love her and lose her.
7
Wren
The letter fluttered beneath her door without a sound. Wren had spent the early hours of the morning silently reprimanding herself for listening to August, pacing back and forth, furiously fidgeting with the end of her braid. She had been so consumed by her own self-punishment that she hadn’t noticed the letter until she was seconds away from leaving her room.
It was sealed with red wax fashioned to look like the Blackwood Academy emblem—the carcass of an oak tree surrounded by bone fragments.
She picked it up off the floor and ripped open the seal. The letter was short and concise, the words etched in bloodred ink.
Ms. Loughty,
Your presence is required in my office. I have spoken to Housemaster Birdie and informed her, so do not worry about arriving tardy to your first class.
Sincerely,
Headmaster Silas
She read the words over and over, as though a hidden message might suddenly jump out at her, tracing each individual letter with the tip of her finger. It didn’t make any sense. She had just spoken to Silas.
A tidal wave of questions shot through her mind.
Why would he need to speak with her again?
Had the others received a similar letter?
Did he change his mind about pardoning their infractions?
Panic coursed through her as she stuffed the letter into her desk drawer.
She didn’t know how to handle these feelings. Unlike some of the other students, she had a good reputation. She had exemplary marks, obviously, but it was more than that. Wren had made it abundantly clear that she wasn’t simply interested in existing but had completely accepted her role as a student and fused it into her soul.
She could not get her old life back, but she could do her best to excel in this one.
It was why she drowned herself in schoolwork and textbooks. Why she exhausted all of her energy studying for exams. It was the one thing she could control. The one thing that hadn’t been altered by the hands of death.
But now one stupid mistake, one stupid decision…her reputation was ruined.
She slipped on her trench coat and bolted toward the door. However, upon swinging the door open, she was faced with a rather large obstacle blocking her path. A large and annoying obstacle with gray eyes and an infuriatingly pleased look on his face.
“Move.”
August pressed his hands against the doorway. “Well, that wasn’t the cheery welcome I was hoping for.”