Page 53 of Immortal Consequences (The Souls of Blackwood Academy #1)

Wren

Wren was beginning to think that maybe she was in over her head. That her perfectly crafted existence in Blackwood was beginning to crumble, piece by piece, and all she could do was stand back and watch it disintegrate into a massive heap of nothing.

She could barely concentrate in class all week.

All she could think about was her fateful trip into the Ether and the events that had occurred afterward.

More specifically, her conversation with August in the Opal Chamber.

She knew better than to trust him. Than to allow herself to cross the line between them.

But something had changed…something she couldn’t quite understand.

It felt like an unrelenting pressure. An unavoidable itch.

She’d always felt weirdly connected to August, but this… this was different.

There had even been times in the past few days when she’d sworn she could hear August’s voice in her head. Him calling out to her. The familiar graveled rasp of his laughter. Honestly, she was beginning to think she might be losing her mind.

Throughout the years, there had been moments when Wren felt the line between them blurring.

The wall slowly crumbling. But their relationship was one built on twisted codependence and morbid curiosity.

Sure, she could admit that August made her feel alive.

That his nagging presence breathed life back into her when she needed it most. But she couldn’t let herself fall for the illusion of something more.

August would never open up to her. Not in the way she needed him to.

She felt it every time he looked at her—the torment of his past clinging to him, the tangled web of secrets trapped beneath the surface.

And Wren knew that if she allowed herself to get too close, to expose her vulnerabilities to him, August wouldn’t meet her halfway.

He’d only pull her under.

She tried to ignore the feeling as she cut through the Main Yard, head down and hands clamped tightly over her textbooks.

The plum-colored sky melted into a muted gray, the familiar silver glow taking over.

Evening mist rolled through campus, obscuring her shoes in a light haze.

Somewhere in the distance, the late-afternoon bell rang from Elysium Hall, signaling the end of theday.

A sense of dread settled upon her shoulders.

That shrill bell meant there was less than an hour left until the Decennial Ball.

She had no interest in parading herself around the banquet hall—not with everything looming on the horizon.

How could she make pleasantries and plaster a smile on her face when there was still so much uncertainty surrounding what had happened with Louise?

She couldn’t help but feel like they were close.

Like the pieces were slowly fitting together and all she had to do was open her eyes and read the answers written plainly in front of her.

She had to figure out what had happened.

If not for herself—then for Louise. The poor girl had been so shaken up after what happened with the shadow creature.

There had been a noticeable change in her.

The spark behind her eyes had dimmed, replaced by an unfamiliar wariness.

It wasn’t fair. Louise didn’t deserve to be crushed beneath this burden. She didn’t deserve any of it.

Wren came to a sudden halt when something in her periphery caught her attention.

Asphodel Hall.

No classes were held in this building—it mainly contained Housemaster offices and faculty-only lounge areas—but it was also where the infirmary was located.

Where the eliminated nominees were being held.

Students weren’t technically allowed to visit the infirmary.

It was against the rules. But Wren knew that others had bypassed that rule—sneaking in after curfew.

It was a bit of a hassle. The students who usually took the risk were those who were desperate to visit loved ones, unable to bear being apart for months on end.

Wren knew she should just keep walking.

It was pointless. The four eliminated nominees were most likely unconscious, their bodies healing while they were kept in a vegetative state.

Yet despite knowing that, Wren found herself walking closer and closer to Asphodel, until she was standing right in front of the building. She clenched her hands into tight fists, inhaling a slow and steadying breath.

Going inside would be a risk—one that could get her eliminated.

But she couldn’t shut off her cursed empathy.

She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the eliminated nominees missing out on the rest of the Decennial.

About them spending months cooped up in the infirmary, ruminating on what they could have done differently.

If it were her in there, she’d want someone tovisit.

She’d want to feel less alone.

Just a quick visit, Wren assured herself as she approached the steps, her mind made up.

The first protective barrier around the main door was rather easy to dismantle—well, at least by Wren’s standards. It was a multilayer ward that required a bit of tinkering near the end of the spell, but after a few seconds, the lock click ed open.

Wren pushed past the initial wave of exhaustion and stepped inside, listening intently.

She could hear two voices from upstairs—the low murmur bouncing around the otherwise empty building. She wasn’t surprised to see it almost deserted. Most people, faculty included, were either getting ready for the ball or already on their way.

Wren slowly made her way up the staircase to the second floor. She peered cautiously around the corner, keeping close to the shadows.

At the far end of the corridor, right in front of the infirmary doors, were two Ascended.

Everly Hawthorne and Paolo Valle.

“It’s just so unfair,” Everly whined, stomping her foot on the floor. “Why did we have to get chosen?”

“It’s just the rotation,” said Paolo, sounding a bit annoyed. “Next Decennial, it’ll be someone else.”

“I know that, but still. ” Everly groaned and pressed her head back against the doors. “It’s not like any of them are going to come here tonight, anyway. They signed the soul vow. They have to go to the ball.”

Wren leaned closer. Is she talking about the nominees?

Paolo sighed. “Yes…but remember what happened three cycles ago? That girl…what was her name—”

“May Westfield.”

Wren racked her brain, but she couldn’t pinpoint the name.

Paolo nodded. “She broke the soul vow to come visit her boyfriend, remember? It took weeks to clean up the mess that happened after. She had told five different students. It was a disaster.”

What the hell are they talking about? Wren wondered silently. She tried to make sense of their words, but she was clearly missing a vital piece of information. She shook off the confusion and refocused her attention on the task at hand.

An idea sparked in her mind.

Wren lifted her hands and called upon her illusionary magic.

The sugarcoated scent filled her lungs, briefly clouding her senses.

The violet runes sprouted from her fingertips, iridescent threads dancing in the air like glowing webs.

She constructed two separate illusions. A boy and a girl.

They had no discernible face or identity, but they were just real enough to look convincing if seen at a distance. The vague outline of two students.

She sent the first illusion running to the left of the corridor, the wispy form moving as she whispered the instructions softly beneath her breath. The sound was a thunderous echo in the quiet hall, footsteps pounding against wooden floorboards.

Everly and Paolo snapped their heads up in unison.

“Shit.” Everly craned her head to the left. “Did you hear that?”

“Go check it out. I’ll stand guard and make sure that—”

Wren quickly sent the second illusion running in the opposite direction, a second set of footsteps resounding in the air.

Paolo glanced to the right. “There’s two of them.”

“Go,” Everly instructed, frantically waving her hand. “But be quick.”

To Wren’s immense relief, her plan worked. Everly and Paolo sprinted in different directions, following the illusions.

She didn’t waste any time, softly tiptoeing toward the infirmary doors. She held her breath, praying the hinges wouldn’t creak. But when she opened the doors, not a sound was heard, and she slipped into the room like a shadow, silent and undetected.

A sterile white room greeted her. There were no windows. No natural light. Iron sconces lined the empty walls, sending orange-soaked rays of light throughout the room. There were about a dozen beds stationed along the perimeter, each concealed by a gauzy curtain.

Wren walked up to the first bed, peering behind the curtain.

It was a boy she didn’t recognize. His skin was ashen, and his body was littered with gashes that had begun to heal, his brown hair still stained with oxidized blood. Wren closed the curtain and kept moving.

She approached the next bed, expecting to see one of the eliminated nominees on the other side, but when she opened the curtain, she was met with yet another face she didn’t recognize.

That can’t be right.

It went on like this for a few minutes. Wren pulling back the curtain, only to be faced with an empty bed or another fallen student, though none were the faces she was expecting to see.

There was only one bed left. One tucked at the far end of the infirmary. She could see the shadow of a body lying behind the curtain, but there was something else…another shadow leaning over the body, looking down at it.

Wren held her breath and opened the curtain.

She blinked in confusion.

Lying in the bed, unconscious and recovering, was Keira Holland. A newer student who had fallen prey to illusionary consumption. Swollen veins coated her skin, her lips dry and brittle. And sitting next to her, tears staining her cheeks, was another student Wren recognized.

“Maya?”

The girl looked up in surprise. “Wren. What—what are you doing here?”

“I came to visit someone.” She lowered her voice carefully. “How did you get in here?”

“I snuck in during the morning rotation…I’ve been hiding out here all day.

” Maya looked up at Wren through her lashes, rubbing away a tear with the back of her hand.

She sniffled, composing herself. “Sorry—it just sucks seeing Keira like this. She fell into illusionary consumption during Calligan’s exam.

They think she’ll need another month before she regains consciousness… ”

Wren placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

Maya smiled through her tears. “I just…I feel bad for her, you know? She was really looking forward to tonight. There’s just something about the ball…makes everyone feel normal again.”

“I get what you mean.” The Decennial Ball was a reminder of a life that no longer belonged to them. Even Wren could admit that a part of her was secretly excited to go to the ball, to feel that normalcy, even if only for one night.

Maya wiped away the rest of her tears and let out a calming breath. She looked up at Wren, tilting her head to the side as though a thought had suddenly occurred to her.

“Hey…shouldn’t you be getting ready?” She glanced down at the thin black watch around her wrist. “The ball starts in thirty minutes.”

“I was just about to head to Pettyworth to get dressed, but…” Wren glanced around the infirmary, lowering her voice. “Have you seen where they’re keeping the eliminated nominees? I stopped by to pay them a visit, but I can’t seem to find them.”

Maya blinked.

“Who?”

“Nick, Liza, Tristan and Georgia,” Wren said, enunciating their names slowly.

“I’m not sure how much you know, but they’re the only ones who have been eliminated so far, and I just…

I wanted to check in on them and see—” Her words were cut short when she noticed the look on Maya’s face.

Her eyes were completely devoid of any emotion, as though she had barely heard what Wren had said. “What is it?”

Maya shook her head, confusion riddling her features.

“I just…I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“What?” Wren stepped closer. “Maya, you’ve been at Blackwood for years. Longer than me. Of course you know who theyare.”

“I…I don’t.”

“Weren’t you on the Decennial Committee with Nick?” Wren asked, bewildered.

“I am on the Decennial Committee,” Maya replied.

“Then you do know Nick,” Wren insisted. “I mean…I swear I’ve seen you two hanging out!”

“Nick…” Maya repeated the name, a distant look in her eyes. For a moment, Wren swore she saw a spark of recognition in her face, but then Maya simply jolted back onto her feet and said, “Anyway, I should be going. I have to get ready for the ball myself. Keira would want me to be there.”

“Wait!” Wren called out, following Maya. “Stop!” She gripped Maya by the shoulders and spun her around, forcing her to face her. “Look at me. You know who Nick is. I know you do.”

Maya stared back, eyes wide and confused.

“I—I can’t…I don’t…”

“Liza. Nick. Tristan. Georgia. They were nominated for the Decennial. Everybody knows who was nominated. How could you not remember them?”

Tears welled behind Maya’s eyes. She smiled, but something about it was wrong, forced and uncanny.

“Wren. Please. Let…let go…” She blinked furiously, but not before Wren caught sight of a strange river of fog briefly clouding her irises.

It was only there for a moment, not even half of a second… but she saw it.

Wren gasped, tightening her grip on Maya’s shoulders.

“Your mind…someone has messed with your mind…” She swore under her breath. Of course. “Maya. Look at me. Someone has altered your memories. Made you forget the eliminated nominees. Can you remember who it was?”

Maya’s mouth opened and closed. Panic flickered behind her eyes, a brief moment of understanding, but it quickly dissipated, replaced by that same forced smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maya ripped herself free from Wren’s grip, stumbling backward. “I’ll…I’ll see you later, Wren!”

Before Wren could stop her, Maya was practically sprinting out of the infirmary, the door swinging closed behind her.

Wren stood there for a moment, jaw slack and eyes wide. There was no denying it.

Someone erased the eliminated nominees from Maya’s memory.