Immortal Consequences(44)

August considered her words, fingers flexing by his side. For a few seconds, he said nothing, and then he simply shrugged and said, “I suppose you’ll have to trust me. Though you’ve never been very good about that.”

Relief washed over her, warmth pooling into her chest. Of course it’s him. A part of Wren knew she would always recognize August. No matter where they were, no matter how much time had passed. In this life and the next.

Wren cleared her throat.

“Good timing.”

August’s expression softened a fraction, the concern dissipating from his face. “I turned the corner and saw that…thing.” He spat the last word out and rubbed a damp curl away from his face. “Figured you could use the help.”

Wren eyed the dagger in his hand. “The maze gave that to me. I don’t get it. One moment it’s helping me, and the next it’s doing everything in its power to make sure I’m eliminated.” She snorted and looked up at him. “Kind of like you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I think the words you’re looking for are thank you.”

“Right.” She fought the unwelcome flush burning against her cheeks. “Thanks.”

She wanted to ask him how much of her conversation with the replica he had heard, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask. And before she could muster up the courage, the hedge next to them suddenly began to move, shifting until an opening appeared before them. On the other side was a new path. Unlike the rest of the maze, this path was lined with bronze streetlamps, the ground filled with lush grass and dotted with tulips.

“Well…” Wren peered through the opening. “That’s new.”

Next to her, August sighed.

“Shall we keep going?”

Wren hesitated before snatching the dagger from his hand.

“Like we have a choice.”

17

Masika

She was lost. The minutes bled into hours, and all Masika could do was replay the moment the maze swallowed up Wren, her body engulfed by the ravenous greenery. Masika should have done something. Gone after her.

But she had only stood back and watched.

She did her best not to dwell on it. Wren was smart and fast, and if anybody could get themselves out of a situation like that…it was her.

Or maybe that was just Masika’s way of convincing herself that Wren was okay.

It didn’t matter.

She couldn’t go back in time.

If she panicked, if she let herself succumb to the anxiety…there was no telling what would happen. She needed to remain focused. Clearheaded. Her sanity was her ticket back to Blackwood.

Especially considering what was lurking inside the maze.

A few minutes after Masika had first awoken in the maze, she had thought she’d heard Irene’s voice calling out to her. She’d followed the sound of it before coming to a halt at a dead end.

Irene had been standing there.

Except it hadn’t been Irene—not really. This version of Irene had black teeth and eyes so red they appeared to be glowing. Her skin had been a sickly white, with bulbous veins snaking up her neck.

She’d called Masika horrible names. Said things Masika had always secretly feared Irene thought about her. Useless. Broken. Pathetic. And though Masika had been tempted to stick around, to get closer, an innate part of her knew it must be some sort of trick. And before she could change her mind, she’d sprinted away from the terrifying replica of Irene, not daring to glance back.

Whatever it was…it hadn’t followed her.

And Masika had no intention of finding it again.

She picked up her pace and let out a breath of determination, swallowing down any lingering anxiety. But the farther she walked, the more her mind began to wander, faded memories trickling in, with one in particular lingering in the forefront.

“Do you always read like that, my little dove?” Catherine hovered over her with a teasing smile.

Masika hadn’t even realized her strange position. She was lying on a chair with her legs propped up against the backrest, head lolling backward, a copy of Elementary Transmutation Spells tucked between her hands.

“I find it helps me concentrate,” she replied coyly.

Catherine sat down on the floor next to her. “Masika Sallow…have I mentioned that I find you positively fascinating?”

Masika closed the book and sat up, facing her.

“Catherine Clarke…have I mentioned that I want to kiss you?”

That night had been their first kiss. Masika could remember it vividly. Every small detail. Every perfect moment. Unfortunately, that also meant she could remember everything that came afterward. The gaping rift that pushed them away from one another. The slow descent into madness.

The last night she ever saw Catherine.

The window was open. It was the first thing Masika noticed upon entering the room. A single candle was lit on the nightstand, the amber flame dancing in the breeze.

“Catherine?”

A heavy sense of unease sank into her heart. Somehow, she knew something was wrong.

Catherine’s closet door had been left propped ajar. Masika pushed it open with a shaking hand, only to stagger backward when she saw what was inside. Dozens of papers had been taped to the walls of the closet…journal entries marked with blood. None of it made sense. Ramblings with no beginning and no end.