Immortal Consequences(77)

The open air offered some relief from the stifling darkness, the silver evening glow of Blackwood emanating in the distance. But Emilio could sense the shadow the moment he stepped into the cool night air—the way it was lurking just beyond what they could see, the sound of it whooshing just above them, orbiting them like a predator stalking its prey.

Irene and Masika had already vanished toward the western side of the main gates, out toward the old shed.

“Stay low,” August hissed, pressing his hand against Wren’s shoulders and motioning Olivier and Emilio forward. They had taken a few steps when Wren came to an abrupt halt, bending over and slumping onto her knees.

August knelt down to face her, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders.

“I told you,” he sighed. “You’re too weak, Loughty. You have to go back to the dorm and rest.”

“I’m fine.” She coughed and wheezed in a breath. “I just need a moment to—”

“We don’t have a moment.”

August hoisted Wren into his arms in one swift movement before she had a chance to argue. She tried to stop him, wriggling her legs in a half-hearted attempt to get away, but August didn’t so much as flinch, keeping his eyes steady on Emilio and Olivier. “I’m taking her back to Pettyworth. Stick to the eastern side of the gates and prepare yourselves. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

And then they vanished—gone in a puff of inky smoke.

Olivier blinked into the darkness. “I suppose that’s our cue.”

Emilio followed Olivier as he began walking toward the eastern side of the gates. He let his gaze momentarily lift toward the sky, overly aware of the darkness enveloping them. Every passing shadow made his stomach churn.

“You still with me?” whispered Olivier.

“Yeah.” Emilio cleared his throat. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Eternal suffering.”

Olivier chuckled, glancing over his shoulder. “Ah. Not one for adrenaline and adventure, then?”

“I prefer the safety of the Library,” Emilio muttered, craning his neck up toward the sky.

“Is that why I always find you sulking in there?”

Emilio nodded. “I like being there. Surrounded by all the books. It feels…familiar.”

Olivier hummed. “I see. You’re still clinging to the remnants of home.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m not particularly fond of reminiscing. I don’t find the practicality in it. Seems like a waste of valuable time.”

“I think it’s important to remember home,” Emilio said. “To hold on to your humanity.”

Olivier faltered. “Is that what this is about?”

“What?”

“Your humanity.” Olivier turned to look at Emilio. “You’re afraid of losing it?”

Emilio shrugged. “Aren’t we all?”

“No,” Olivier chuckled. “Absolutely not. Do you really think Irene is at all worried about the state of her humanity?”

“I guess not.”

“See?” Olivier smirked, his emerald eyes iridescent in the darkness. “I told you I wasn’t wrong.”

“Wrong about what?”

“About you.”

Emilio blanched. “I don’t know what you—”

“You’re good.” Olivier took a tentative step forward. “And perhaps the only thing I truly like about this place.”

A spark of magic crackled in the distance, interrupting them. It was thunderous and bright—a shard of amber light sprouting from the ground and into the heavens.

Emilio and Olivier didn’t bother to hesitate or ask questions, sprinting toward the chaos through the tall grass, the cool air whipping against their faces. Emilio drowned out the familiar panic rising inside him, the voice in the back of his head begging him to run in the opposite direction, to abandon ship and leave everyone else behind. He refused to let his own cowardice get in his way.

And, more importantly, he refused to leave Olivier alone.

They approached the commotion and looked up toward the sky.

“There,” Emilio muttered. “I see it.”

The creature appeared to be made from shadows, an undulating darkness that ebbed and flowed, as if every particle were alive and breathing. It had no discernible features—no face or eyes or mouth. But it had long, pointed claws and dragon-like wings that appeared to go on endlessly, feathering up toward the sky in thick black waves.

Irene and Masika had wounded the creature, though not nearly enough to incapacitate it completely. As if hearing Emilio’s thoughts, the creature dove again, straight toward the wooden shed where Emilio knew Irene and Masika were hiding.

Before it could reach them, a shard of light erupted from the ground and the creature shrieked, swooping back up toward the sky.

“Cover me,” Olivier instructed, crouching closer to the ground. He pressed his palms together and closed his eyes, brows furrowing in concentration. As he pulled his hands apart, silver shards of magic vibrated in the space between his palms, growing with intensity.

He didn’t miss. The spell went straight through the creature, right through its center.

It let out another resounding shriek, whirling toward them.