Page 24 of Immortal Consequences (The Souls of Blackwood Academy #1)

Irene

Irene didn’t believe in fairy tales. She was eighteen, not twelve.

The last time she’d been na?ve enough to wish upon a star or wait for a prince to scale the wall up to her bedroom window and profess his undying love for her, she’d been a young girl deluded by her own fantasies and useless daydreaming.

Honestly, the fact that she’d ever considered the possibility of a happily ever after was mortifying.

So, logically, the monster standing in front of her couldn’t bereal.

Silver shards of magic crackled in her palm as she tried to make sense of what she was looking at.

It certainly looked like something straight out of a fairy tale—a face made entirely of bones, limbs coated in leathery scales, yellow serpent-like eyes.

Not to mention, the creature was at least seven feet tall, with a large hump protruding from its back and razor-sharp talons jutting out of its fingertips.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t see her. Irene had positioned herself next to the hedge, a cloaking enchantment surrounding her with an invisible veil.

But time was ticking, and if she had any intention of making it out of the maze, she needed to move.

Which meant she needed to figure out how the hell to get past the creature without being seen.

A flicker of movement caught her eye. Not from the creature, but from something behind her, in the periphery of her vision.

She squinted her eyes and twisted around, careful not to accidentally cross the boundary of her cloaking enchantment.

A moment or so later, her eyes adjusted and she spotted something breaking through the shadows.

Two faces.

Familiar ones.

Emilio and Olivier were crouched a few feet behind her, seemingly unaware that she was close enough to touch them. They appeared to be strategizing on what to do next, though neither of them was bright enough to cast a cloaking enchantment of theirown.

Absolute idiots.

She stretched her cloaking enchantment toward them, enveloping them within the gauzy veil.

“Hello, boys.”

“Dammit—” Emilio cursed under his breath, nearly stumbling onto Olivier’s lap. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough. I don’t suppose either of you happens to know what that thing is, do you?”

“Not a clue,” Olivier admitted with a defeated sigh. His usually perfectly combed blond hair sat disheveled atop his head, dirt staining the bridge of his nose. “But I say we make a run for it. We can keep the cloaking enchantment on and it won’t see us.”

“The path is too narrow,” Irene pointed out. “We won’t be able to avoid touching it.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

The truth was, a plan had come to her, though something told her the two of them wouldn’t be thrilled about the idea, considering it involved kicking them out of the cloaking enchantment and using them as bait.

“We can work together,” said Emilio, catching Irene by surprise. “If the three of us attack it…we can overpower it.”

“ You want to fight that thing?” Irene asked.

“Well, I don’t particularly want to, but I think it’s our best shot.”

Three against one.

Irene had to admit that a part of her was itching for a good fight, for a chance to get her hands dirty. She just hadn’t expected Emilio to be the one to suggest it. But now that the option had presented itself, she couldn’t help but lean into the side of her that was desperate for a bit of action.

“All right.” She released a sharp breath.

“It can’t attack us all at once, so it’ll have to pick a target.

We all know I’m far more skilled at corporeal magic, so I’ll be in charge of trying to destroy it.

” She turned to face Olivier. “You’re in Litterman, aren’t you?

You must be rather good at illusions, then. ”

He nodded. “I’m exceptional. ”

She rolled her eyes. “Right, well, do you think you’d be able to create an illusion of me?”

Olivier considered her words. “I suppose I could, though illusions meant to mimic people are always a bit fickle.” His eyes shifted to the creature behind them.

“Though come to think of it, I doubt we have to worry, considering it’s highly unlikely that that bone-faced troll has more than two brain cells to rub together. ”

“That’s good enough.” Irene could see the plan materializing in her mind. She glanced at Emilio, who was staring at her intently, a surprising eagerness in his eyes. “How are you at elemental?”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Enough to get by.”

“That’ll have to do. When I give the signal, I want you to release a circle of fire directly around the creature. Understood?”

“Got it.”

“Okay.” Irene looked between the two of them. “Ready?”

They nodded in unison.

“Ready.”

The moment Irene dropped the cloaking enchantment, the gauzy veil dissipating, the creature turned its attention toward them, gnashing its sharp teeth. Beneath the alabaster bones coating its face, a set of sickly yellow eyes narrowed in on them, focusing solely on Irene—the foremost of the group.

Good.

She crouched on the ground, anticipation coursing through her.

Before the creature could react, she manipulated the air around her, propelling herself forward with a gust of wind, gliding directly between the creature’s legs until she rolled to its other side.

Olivier began to construct the illusion, glowing violet runes sprouting into the air.

He worked lightning fast, his fingers moving nimbly, until an exact duplicate of Irene appeared in front of her, and then another, and another, until there were at least a dozen Irenes surrounding her, all of them in the same crouched position.

The creature tilted its head, eyes darting among the various illusions, its mouth curling down in anger.

It charged toward one of the illusions, slicing its sharp talons across the illusion’s chest. The illusion disintegrated, floating up into the air as if it were nothing but smoke. The creature roared, lifting its head back as it prepared to strike again.

“Keep it distracted!” Irene shouted over the chaos.

Olivier nodded, muttering something under his breath.

As the words left his lips, the illusions all turned to face the center of the path, their movements eerily synchronized as they followed Olivier’s instructions.

The creature charged after them, fury radiating from its gaze, and began to swing left and right, desperate to inflict damage.

“Now!” Irene screamed, signaling Emilio.

He jumped into action, summoning the embers from his fingertips, until a sphere of fire emanated from his palms. He shot it toward the creature, and Irene held her breath as the fire quickly traveled around its feet, engulfing the monster in a perfect circle of flames.

My turn, Irene thought as she summoned the silver shards into her veins, savoring the feeling of them traveling through her chest and into her fingers. All she had to do was reach forward and cut the creature in half. She just needed a bit more time, a few more seconds to—

An unseen force threw her to the ground, knocking the air from her lungs. Her vision blurred and refocused, the source of the blow coming into view. It was the creature. It had its claws pressed firmly against her shoulders, pinning her to the ground.

Shock coursed through her.

The creature had run straight through the flames, undeterred, and gone after her.

Olivier was running toward her when a set of vines sprouted from the hedge and pulled him backward, lifting him into the air. They wrapped around his body, enveloping him in a cocoon of branches and leaves.

The creature, sensing Irene’s desperation, let out a growl of triumph and sank one of its talons into her lower abdomen.

And that was when Irene felt it.

It wasn’t the familiar dull pressure she had grown accustomed to. No…this was something else entirely. This was pain. Real, excruciating, mind-numbing pain that shot through her stomach and into her nerves.

But that wasn’t possible. That couldn’t—

The creature roared, sinking the talon farther, its hot breath spraying across her face.

Move, Irene heard her mom’s voice whisper in the back of her mind. If you do not move, you will not survive.

Anger surged over the fear. Get out of my head, Irene wanted to shout back.

You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.

But as the agonizing seconds dragged by, the creature did not budge, and Irene found herself incapable of moving, incapable of reaching into the magic inside her and doing what needed to be done.

This was it.

She wouldn’t make it past the first trial. She’d be the disappointment her mom had so often told her she was.

Irene closed her eyes. And then a guttural scream cut through the air.

Her eyes snapped open, and she saw something she couldn’t quite wrap her head around.

Emilio was charging toward the creature, sword in hand. A broken cry tore from his throat as he brought the edge of the sword down upon the creature’s neck, slicing its head off in one clean swoop.

Irene gasped as the creature’s talon slipped out of her skin, its body collapsing onto the dirt beside her. Its head rolled over to Emilio’s feet. He stood there, bloody sword dangling from his hands, mouth hung open in shock.

Irene pressed her hand against the wound on her stomach. Warm blood spread through her fingers, dampening the hem of her nightgown.

Something wasn’t right. This wasn’t normal.

“Are you okay?” Emilio’s voice trembled as he spoke.

“I’m—I’m fine.” Irene cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Olivier’s voice cut through the silence.

“ Uh —though I am thrilled neither one of you is harmed, I would absolutely love it if somebody could cut me down from this thing.”

Irene lifted a shaking hand, summoning the magic inside her, and sliced through the canopy of branches.

Olivier dropped to the ground and scrambled to his feet. “Well, that was exciting.”

Irene let out a throaty chuckle, masking the pain coursing through her limbs.

Tell them, a voice in the back of her mind whispered urgently.

Tell them what you felt. But something kept the words lodged in her throat.

A resistance. A desperation to conceal her weaknesses, even if it was at the expense of others.

Olivier’s eyes landed on Emilio. “Where on earth did you get a sword?”

“I found it.” Emilio gestured toward the hedge. “I think the maze…gave it to me.”

“Well, that was awfully convenient.”

“I just kept thinking how helpful it would be if I had a weapon,” Emilio mumbled, seemingly still in a daze. “It’s like it heard my thoughts.”

Irene glared at the hedge. “Maybe it did.”

The maze might have helped Emilio, but she still didn’t trust it. She was convinced that nothing good ever came without a price, and she wasn’t inclined to stick around to find out what the maze wanted in return.

She pushed herself onto her feet. “We should keep moving.”

“I say we go left.” Olivier grabbed Emilio by the arm and walked forward.

Irene turned away from them. “I’m going right.”

Emilio glanced up. “You’re—you’re not coming with us?”

He seemed genuinely wounded, his brows lifted in surprise. And for a brief and horrifying moment, Irene couldn’t help but feel a sting of regret.

“No.” She shook her head. “I’d rather be alone.”

Olivier scoffed. “Are you serious? I was almost strangled by a plant and you were almost eaten by a troll and now you want to risk the rest of the trial on your own?”

“This isn’t a team sport.”

“Christ, Irene.” He shook his head, disappointment burning in his eyes. “It won’t kill you to trust people.”

“You’re wrong,” she muttered.

“Irene—”

“I want to believe you’re right.” The words poured out of her as she staggered backward, distancing herself from them.

She couldn’t stand to see the earnestness in their eyes, to hear the concern in their voices.

“I want to believe that people are worth trusting. But you’re wrong. Trust will destroy you.”

Emilio had stepped forward, as though he was about to speak, when a cacophony of noise rattled farther down the path, cutting him off. The three of them glanced up in unison and watched as two figures sprinted toward them.

Georgia Lynn and Carter Rowland. The nominees from Fiddle House.

At first all Irene saw was Georgia’s distinctive bright blue hair.

It was pulled back into a ponytail, sweat clinging to her pale skin.

Next to her was Carter. It was easy to tell it was him even from a distance by the tattoos covering every inch of his skin.

The two of them were infamous among the students—notorious rule-breakers.

But their nomination wasn’t all that surprising.

Despite their penchant for testing the Housemasters’ limits, it was well-known that Georgia and Carter had two of the highest rankings when it came to reaping assignments in the Ether.

They were practically legends.

As Irene’s vision refocused, she noticed that the pair of them were yelling something, though it was hard to hear, their voices muffled by the wind. It was only when Irene spotted the thick black plumes of smoke rising like a charcoal wave behind them that their voices became clear.

“RUN!”

The word echoed deep in Irene’s chest as her feet hit the ground. She sprinted in the opposite direction, clutching her bleeding wound, as chaos erupted at her back. Behind her Georgia screamed, the sound sending a flurry of goose bumps down Irene’s arms.

Unable to resist, Irene glanced over her shoulder.

Emilio and Olivier were running a few paces behind, hands clasped together.

Farther back, Carter had tripped over a tangled root and was scrambling to get back onto his feet.

Pausing beside him, Georgia reached down, trying to pull him to safety as the smoke slithered, impossibly fast, toward them.

Only a few more seconds and it would overwhelm them both.

Help them, whispered a terrible voice in the back of Irene’s mind.

But she couldn’t. There was no time to worry. No time to go back. Irene just had to keep running. She reached the fork in the maze and veered left, eyes fixed forward. Olivier and Emilio had passed her while she’d been turned around—she wasn’t sure which way they’d run, but it didn’t matter.

She just needed to keep moving.

To save herself.

To—

Irene tripped, her body flying to the ground, and smacked her head against something sharp and hard.

The last thing she heard before passing out was the sound of somebody screaming.