Olivier couldn’t handle it. He rushed out of the tomb without another word, racing up the steps, stumbling back out into the forest. He heard Emilio calling after him, the patter of his footsteps approaching. The others were only a few paces behind, though it was clear they were giving the two space.
“Olivier.”
His name sounded so beautiful tumbling out of Emilio’s lips, but he couldn’t bring himself to face the other boy. Olivier dug his fingers into his hair, cursing beneath his breath as he paced back and forth.
“Don’t you get it?” His voice cracked, unable to temper his own desperation. “He was supposed to fix me. He was supposed tohelp.”
“I know.”
Emilio reached out a trembling hand, but Olivier backed away.
“No…no, you’re not listening.” Olivier rubbed his face with his hands. The others had emerged from the tomb, and they were watching the scene unfold, silent. “I’m screwed. That’s it for me. I’m done. We’re not getting our eternity, Emilio. We’re barely getting a few days. Hell, without the True Headmaster, we’ll be lucky if we havehours.”
“You don’t know that,” Emilio said softly.
“Of course I do! I’ve always known.” What had he been thinking, believing in his own happily ever after? In something other than the eternity he’d been handed? “There was no getting out of this. There never was. I was a fool for clinging to hope foras long as I did. For thinking my fate would change just because Iwanteditto.”
“Olivier, please.” Analisa’s soft voice reverberated behind them. “I could…I could stilltry—”
“You said it yourself!” Olivier interjected, pointing an accusatory finger at the healer, who flinched. “I’m a lost cause! You know it. You said you felt it the moment we walked out into purgatory.”
“You can’t give up,” Emilio muttered softly.
Olivier winced. “I’m not…I’m not giving up, Emilio. I’m—I’m just accepting it.” He wiped the stubborn tears burning behind his eyes with the back of his hand. “It was for you, anyway. The only reason I tried. The only reason I even bothered to hope…it was all for you.” He shook his head and stumbled backward. “But…there’s no point in trying. Not anymore.”
Analisa stepped forward. “Olivier. I really think that maybe I can—”
It happened so fast.
Too fast.
One second Analisa was speaking, standing there, and the next a gaping hole had been carved into her chest, a golden arrow protruding from the wound.
Somebody screamed. A cry. A broken sound.
Analisa fell to her knees. Catherine and Masika sprinted forward, sinking down next to her. Dina stood there, paralyzed with shock, Benji clutched in her hands. It was as if she had hardened into stone, watching the scene unfold in numb panic.
The healer touched the wound with shaking hands, magic pouring out of her, streams of silver light wrapping around her injury. But the arrow protruding from her torso was keeping the wound from healing, and if she couldn’t close it in time…
Masika must have noticed the same thing. She summonedher elemental magic, thrusting her arm out, cerulean ribbons of power wrapping around the arrow. She pulled it out with a grunt and threw it to the ground beside her.
But still, the wound wouldn’t close. Analisa’s brows creased together in confusion, her magic uselessly swirling within the wound.
She glanced up, eyes wide. “What…what’s happening to me?”
“The arrow,” Catherine choked out, eyes darting to the discarded arrow on the ground. Olivier noticed something strange about it, glowing crimson veins swimming beneath its golden surface. He began to reach out toward it, but Catherine’s panicked cry stopped him in his tracks.
“Don’t!” she bellowed, frantic. “Don’t touch it.” She shook her head, a terrifying look of disbelief upon her face. “I think…I think it’s been infused with some sort of ancient magic. I think it went through the core of her soul.”
“No,” Olivier choked out. He pressed his hands firmly against the wound in Analisa’s chest, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. “Come on, Analisa. Stay with us. Who’s going to annoy the shit out of me if you’re gone, huh?” He laughed, but his vision blurred with tears, panic twisting in his chest. Analisa smiled and blood poured from her mouth. “Just—try again, okay? Try your magic.”
“I…” Analisa lifted her hand and the usual spark of healing magic fizzled and faded, unable to conjure even a single ember. “I can’t.”
Before Olivier could say anything else, a terrible choking sound erupted from the back of Analisa’s throat, blood sputtering onto her lips. And then, as if Olivier had been transported into one of his nightmares, the one where the eliminated nominees haunted him, their disintegrated forms whispering to him in the night, Analisa’s soul began to…fade.
Her skin broke apart. Chunks of flesh melting into ash anddust.
Analisa looked up at Olivier. She tried to open her mouth to speak, to say something, but no sound came out. And from one breath to the next, Analisa came apart, her body splintering into speckles of dust and ash, until she vanished completely, the particles swirling away with the wind.
