Page 11 of Immortal Consequences (The Souls of Blackwood Academy #1)

He’d been noticing the memories slipping away from him for a few weeks now.

At first he thought it might just be his imagination.

The paranoia of knowing he’d been around longer than most. But then one blurred memory became two.

And two became three. And then the memories began not only to blur but to disappear completely.

A dark nothingness taking root in his brain, slowly devouring everything that made him him.

There was no escaping the inevitable.

He was running out of time.

“Everly, sweetheart.” Olivier cleared his throat. “Do you think you could be a dear and fetch me some water? I’m quite parched.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I said no talking.”

Ugh. There was nothing worse than an Ascended on a power trip.

Olivier carefully inspected the golden band adorning her ring finger—it was given to every Ascended, a way of marking their “elevated” status.

But there was one more thing that made Everly stand out as an Ascended, a peculiar detail that was hard not to notice.

Her eyes glowed.

It was like her irises were constantly catching light—a predator’s eyes glinting in the darkness. Currently, those feline eyes were locked on Olivier, staring at him with utter contempt.

“Do you think we’re banned from the Decennial?” Emilio whispered.

Olivier shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.

” He did his best to seem nonchalant, though truthfully…

he was devastated. It wasn’t that he had been particularly confident in his chances for the nomination, per se, but he had been secretly hopeful.

If he could secure the nomination, he could stop the transition in its tracks.

He could save himself.

Emilio whimpered and pressed his forehead against his knees. “I’m never listening to you again.”

“Oh, hush.” Olivier playfully nudged him. “You were just as curious as I was.”

Emilio groaned, his voice muffled by his pants.

“You’re a horrible influence.”

Olivier smirked. “Thank you.”

The door swung open and they shot their heads up in unison. Masika walked out, arms wrapped around her chest and eyes lowered to the floor. Olivier was considering calling after her when Housemaster Wesley popped his head out of the room and waved him over.

“Mr.Dupont…it’s your turn.” Wesley’s gaze shifted to Emilio. He pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose and offered Emilio a rueful smile. “Mr.Córdova. I have to say…I’m quite surprised to see you among this group of troublemakers.”

Emilio shuddered. “Trust me. So am I.”

Olivier sprang to his feet and clasped his hands together. Next to him, Emilio wilted.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Olivier whispered, offering him an apologetic grin. “It’ll be painless. I promise.”

Emilio looked up at him through his lashes. “You owe me.”

Olivier’s heart twisted. “I know.”

He turned his attention toward Wesley, pressed his shoulders back, and strutted into the room.

Inside, he found a small and unassuming office.

The corners were filled with mounds of dust, an iron chandelier hanging precariously from one of the ceiling’s wooden slabs.

A large bay window sat against the eastern wall with a rather impressive display of books scattered beneath it.

Housemaster Birdie stood with her arms crossed, with Housemaster Russo beside her.

They were a comical pair. Complete opposites.

The Sun and the Moon. And then there was Wesley, who Olivier found couldn’t really be compared to any sort of celestial formation.

He could, however, be compared to a nervous ferret.

“Go—go on. Take a seat,” Wesley muttered behind him, placing a gentle hand on Olivier’s shoulder. Olivier reluctantly followed his orders, approaching the old mahogany desk at the far end of the room.

He didn’t spot the figure lurking in the darkness until he’d sat down.

“Mr.Dupont. I’m quite intrigued by what your friends have so generously shared with me this evening.”

Olivier nearly jumped out of his skin. It wasn’t like he hadn’t met with the infamous Headmaster of their school before, but given their current situation, his presence was an unwelcome shock.

“Headmaster Silas.” Olivier cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “We’ve had quite the night. Though I should probably clarify that the six of us aren’t exactly friends.”

Silas emerged from the shadows. The sharp thump of his walking stick rattled against the walls as he approached Olivier, a calculated smile on his lips.

He wore his usual navy peacoat, his dark, gray-speckled hair slicked back.

Olivier often wondered how old the Headmaster really was.

He appeared to be in his late thirties, give or take, though some students believed he had never truly been alive.

That he was actually God himself. Others believed he was something else entirely, an eternal being beyond their comprehension.

In Olivier’s humble opinion—it was all a bunch of bullshit. And Silas, as intimidating as he might be, was only a man.

“Ah, I see.” Silas paused in front of the desk. “Then what word would you use?”

Olivier let out a wary chuckle. “Uh, perhaps… unfortunate acquaintances ?”

The Headmaster lifted the corner of his mouth into a smirk.

“Be that as it may, the six of you have gotten yourselves into quite some trouble. I believe a range of infractions has taken place tonight. Ignoring curfew, dismantling protective wards, breaking into faculty-only buildings…” He tapped his gloved fingers against the golden head of his walking stick.

“I can’t say I’m exactly thrilled. In fact, I’m very disappointed. ”

Olivier swallowed the knot in his throat. “Understandably so.”

Silas narrowed his eyes. They were usually a warm shade of brown, but engulfed by the darkness of the office, they appeared almost entirely black.

Olivier did his best not to squirm under his gaze.

“There is, of course, the matter of Louise Nordain.”

Olivier tensed. He hadn’t been expecting that. “So…you know?”

Silas chuckled. “Of course. This is my school. I pride myself on knowing who is coming in and out of it. In fact, I was the one who found the girl and carried her back inside.”

“It was you,” Olivier whispered, straightening in his chair. “Then you saw what happened. She harnessed shadow magic, didn’t she?”

“Here is what I will tell you, Mr.Dupont.” Silas assessed Olivier for a moment, lips pulled into a placid yet unnerving smile. “What the six of you saw tonight was…rather concerning. It appears that our enemies are growing bolder in their tactics to lure students away from Blackwood.”

“The Demien Order,” Olivier muttered under his breath.

Silas nodded. “It appears their recruitment strategies have been failing them. We’ve had a historically low number of students leave Blackwood the past decade, and it is evident that we aren’t the only ones who have noticed.”

Olivier edged closer. “What are you saying?”

Silas sighed, leaning his weight against the desk. “The shadow magic you saw tonight was not coming from Louise…but was being used against her. We believe they were attempting to untether her soul from Blackwood in order to abduct her.”

“Is that even possible?” Olivier asked, bewildered.

Silas gave a solemn nod in response. “It appears so, though thankfully they were unsuccessful this time. But…I am certain they will try again. The Demien Order will stop at nothing in their pursuit of chaos. They will sow corruption in the souls of Blackwood until our precious balance is disrupted.”

A coldness spread through Olivier’s limbs. Chaos in the afterlife. It was a chilling thought.

“What happens now?”

Silas hesitated, the tension in his dark brows easing. He offered Olivier a somber smile.

“Now…I only ask for your cooperation.”

Olivier faltered. “My…cooperation?”

“If the six of you keep what you saw tonight from the other students, I will pardon all of your infractions. You will not have to serve any time in reformatory, nor will you be barred from consideration for the Decennial.”

Under any other circumstances, a list of infractions as egregious as the ones they’d committed tonight would have landed them in reformatory, scrubbing floors and organizing files until their eyes dried out. But now, all Silas wanted from them was their cooperation?

It all seemed too…simple. Too straightforward.

But who was Olivier to deny a miracle?

“Of course,” he replied with a nod. “I won’t say a word.”

“Good. Very good.” Silas clasped his hands in approval. As Olivier stood up from his chair, relief washing over him, he heard Silas clear his throat. “One more thing, Mr.Dupont.”

Olivier glanced up. “Yes?”

“Though I trust you are a man of your word…I must remind you that breaking this promise would have serious repercussions…ones you would not be too fond of.” Silas leaned forward, the earthy scent of ancient magic radiating in the air.

A strange breeze ruffled the curtains and sent a blanket of goose bumps up and down Olivier’s arms. “Do I make myself clear?”

A weighted silence flooded the room. Olivier’s eyes skated over to the Housemasters.

They all seemed equally stoic, watching him with unnerving stillness.

He knew there was no way out of this. That even if he did try to say something about the shadow magic, if he tried to warn the other students, he was being monitored. Always watched.

Olivier swallowed back his hesitance. “Crystalline.”

Silas nodded once more, motioning toward the door with an authoritative wave.

“Good. Now send the last one in.”