Olivier’s eyes flitted to Irene. “Hello there.” He gave her a genuine, albeit tense smile. “Glad to see you’ve finally come to your senses.”
Irene shifted uncomfortably. “It’s…uh…good…to see you.”
“Careful now, Irene.” Olivier chuckled. “Wouldn’t want me to accidentally think youlikeme.”
Irene scowled. “You know, this is usually the part where you would say: Oh, wow, thank you, Irene, I’m also super glad to see—” Her words snagged in her throat as Emilio stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. Irene’s entire body stiffened, though she didn’t push him away. In fact, a tiny part of her wanted nothing more than to hug him back. But her limbs couldn’t quite allow her to, so she settled for an awkward pat on Emilio’s shoulder.
He beamed up at her. “Thank you.”
Irene flinched. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You helped Masika. You saved her.”
Irene physically recoiled. “Okay. Don’t be dramatic.”
Emilio’s smile only deepened at her obvious discomfort. “You’re ahero.”
Irene gagged. “All right, enough, or I might just go back to plotting to destroy you all.”
Masika looked between the two boys. “I don’t understand. How did you get here so quickly?”
“We, uh…” Olivier cleared his throat. “We had some help from August.”
Irene’s eyes widened.“August?”
“He’s on our side,” Emilio explained carefully. “He only gave up his humanity to try to get Wren back. She…she was taken by the Demien Order. She’s the catalyst. The one who was prophesized to destroy Blackwood.”
Masika scoffed. “Fuck off.”
Olivier threw his arms in the air. “See! That isexactlywhat Isaid!”
Irene winced. “Right…forgot to mention that.”
Masika’s eyes widened in her direction. “You knew too? And didn’t bother to tell me?”
“There’s been a lot going on,” Irene muttered defensively.
Olivier cleared his throat, drawing Masika’s attention again. “But…we’re too late. Wren is gone. She’s the catalyst now. A vessel for the Soulless One’s revenge. August went to go look for her. I think…I think he hopes there’s still a way to reach her. A way to stop her.”
An explosion echoed in the distance. The windows of the hall rattled a warning. Masika, who had been leaning against Olivier for support, looked around among the group. “So.” She cleared her throat. “What’s our plan?”
“Well.” Olivier clasped his hands. “Wehada plan to resurrect the True Headmaster, though it completely went to shit when we got to his tomb and realized that it was, in fact, empty. So I suppose our next-best bet is to find August and try to help him snap Wren out of it. I believe he went toward Elysium Hall. We could probably meet him there on time if we relocate—”
“I’m sorry. Wait. You were planning to—what? Resurrectwho?” Irene blanched, mind struggling to process what she’d just heard.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Olivier muttered with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We failed. Horrendously. So now we just need to fight.”
“Screw that,” Irene scoffed. “Let’s make a run for it. August can handle Wren. Why do we need to get involved?”
“And go where exactly?” Olivier pressed. “If the Soulless One and his new little puppet get their way, then who knows what will be left of the afterlife? If the Ether’s balance is disrupted by Silas’spresence alone, think about what would happen if the entirety of Blackwood was wiped away. Ifthousandsof students’ souls were destroyed.”
Shit.He was right. What was the point of running if there was nowhere to runto?
“Okay, well…” Irene racked her brain, fingers drumming restlessly against her arms. “I still think the journals I have upstairs could be useful. I was working with a Demien—before. The bastard lied to me. But maybe there’s something in there that can help us. Private Demien Order business that could give us an upper hand.
“His name’s Mateo…” Irene fished the pocket mirror out of her coat, angling it toward the group. She opened the clasp and summoned the memory, the reflection slowly morphing into an image of Mateo she’d recorded a few days ago, back in the Main Yard. “Silas gave me this enchanted mirror. It can replay memories. Maybe if one of us sees him, we could try to convince himto—”
“Where the hell did you get this?” Olivier snapped, cutting heroff.
