Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
IRIS
As the sun slowly crept over the cliff edge, spilling its light onto the school grounds, I wondered how much a person could cope with before their brain physically exploded.
Before their thoughts splintered. Before the pressure cracked something open for good.
I considered the topic we were currently studying in Philosophy, about nature versus nurture, and wondered if that was the only difference between us and the infamous serial killers we learn about. Too much pressure and we snap?
I wondered how much it would take for me to snap.
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I sat up in bed. I leant my back against the cool stone wall and pulled my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them. I looked over to where Adora was still sleeping.
She didn’t deserve what happened to her last night.
I swung my feet down off the bed and tucked them into my slippers, creeping silently over to my desk.
I sat down, the wood creaking slightly. I pulled out a piece of parchment from the draw and unfolded it.
Last night, after Adora had fallen asleep, I wrote down everything that happened in the library. I wanted to remember everything. I wanted to start documenting all my discoveries, theories, and anything that may help me figure out what’s happening here.
Because we were running out of time…
I hastily read my scrawled handwriting, scanning over a few important phrases.
The Masked Men.
Cult.
‘Aqua mortuorum’ and ‘Mors venit’.
Discipuli de Neptūno.
I cursed myself for never bothering to learn Latin and resolved to spend the night in the library, combing through books until my eyes bled and I could make sense of the phrases.
It’s what I should have done straight away.
Straight after I saw them written on the papers hidden in the false back of the bookshelf – and when I saw them carved into both the boat and the fishing shack on my first day on the island.
I remembered the original research I’d found in the library – the stack that had mysteriously and frustratingly vanished when I was off looking for Isobella.
Originally, I’d stupidly thought Isobella had somehow taken them, but now I wondered if they were still hidden in the library somewhere. Maybe I could find them again.
Then the thought slammed into me.
Shit. My date.
I was supposed to meet Archer tonight.
The thought alone sent a rush of butterflies tearing through my stomach – then, right on cue, came the guilt. It was sharp and immediate, coiling tight in my chest. With everything spiraling out of control, how could I even think about leaving the grounds? Especially when Adora needed me.
Yet the thought of meeting Archer… far away from here, and alone?
The feeling had my body growing hot.
And suddenly, again, I was thinking about how much one person could cope with before their brain exploded.
I spent the entire day monitoring Adora. It was a Saturday, so, thankfully, we had no classes.
As I watched her wake up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes – her long lashes dusting her cheeks – I knew deep down that I should be full of worry over what I’d learned last night.
However, at that moment, the most important thing to me in the world was making sure my friend was okay.
My chest loosened just slightly as I watched her, clinging to that single, steady truth. She was still herself.
Once I knew that, I could turn my focus fully to solving the mystery of Discipuli de Neptūno.
We spent the entire day on the floor of our dorm room, cocooned in blankets and surrounded by the steady accumulation of snacks that Rory kept bringing in.
Junk food, mainly.
Time blurred as we talked, napped, read, and played board games – including a particularly tense game of chess between Rory and Adora…
Adora won – obviously – and though I’m pretty sure she cheated, neither of us cared after seeing her grin.
Outside, it was raining, the sky turning grey and miserable. So none of us minded staying indoors.
Rory seemed to sense that something had happened the night before, since he barely left Adora’s side… He kept checking in on us now and then with quiet concern, asking if we were okay. But if he suspected anything more, he kept it to himself.
I really appreciated his presence and his silent support. The three of us laughed, joked and smiled until I was completely positive that Adora was back to her regular, sunshiny self.
By the time evening crept in and the rain tapped softly against the windows, the room felt warm and safe once again.
Eventually, Adora and Rory quietly slipped out to head back to Rory’s dorm to sleep.
Shortly after, once I was sure the coast was clear, I followed them, the door gently clicking shut behind me.
I wasn’t entirely sure what I looked like. I’d showered at least, but everything else about getting ready for this time away with Archer had unraveled somewhere along the way.
I pulled on the crimson ribbon that was holding up my hair, allowing the waves to fall loose around my shoulders.
I brushed my fingers gently through the strands, and retied it neatly in a high ponytail.
I’d chosen a short, tartan skirt and a black lacey vest top.
I wore my oversized black leather coat over my clothes because it was my only one with a hood to shelter from the wind and never ending torrential downpour that plagues this island.
It was eight-forty-five.
Archer told me to meet him at nine – where the road forks off, slightly past the gates to the school.
I crept through the eerily silent halls.
I passed a few lingering students – perhaps on their way to or from the library for some late night studying, or going to visit partners in other dorms – but none of them paid me any heed.
I guess a good part of the school grounds being so large is that you’re unlikely to bump into anyone you know when you’re trying to be discreet.
It was so dark, just like last night. The shadows felt as if they were pressing in on me, creeping into my very bones. The wind howled outside like a phantom pack of wolves.
My boots thudded softly against the stones as I approached the entry hall, with the large double doors that I entered through the very first time I stepped foot in Ashcroft. I edged them open and felt the force of the wind and rain fighting back.
Pulling up the hood of my coat, I slid through and out onto the front drive. As I crossed the slick cobblestones, I turned back to look up at the school. It looked incredibly ominous, its tall silhouette blocking out the moon.
I dared a glance around me to make sure no one was around to witness me sneaking off the grounds, when I saw movement.
It was so slight that I thought maybe I imagined it.
Until it moved again.
A blinding white flash hurtled towards me. I stumbled backwards, lost my footing, and crashed to the ground. Pain flared as my back struck the cobbles, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. I forced myself upright, heart pounding, eyes scanning the darkness where I’d seen the apparition.
Fear and nausea churned together as rain slanted across my vision, making it hard to see more than a few feet ahead.
A snap sounded behind me.
I jumped, whirling towards the noise and had to bite back a scream.
A woman stood in front of me.
She was gaunt and emaciated. Her pallid expression was pulled back in a gruesome cry. Her long white hair swirled around her head like a warped halo, and her tattered dress billowed around her knees, as though she were suspended underwater.
I tried to move – tried to shout – but panic locked my body in place, rooting me to the spot.
The apparition… no, ghost… just stood there, her face frozen in its silent scream. I noticed that her head was tilted at a terrifying, unnatural angle, her limbs bent out of shape.
Was this another victim? Another girl, like Isobella?
I tried to recognise her from any of the photos I saw of the missing students, but she looked slightly too old. Her skin was peeling off her face in rips and tears. This woman had clearly been dead for a long time.
She surged towards me, closing the distance in a heartbeat, moving at impossible speed. My fear hit a pinnacle and suddenly my body obeyed me again.
I turned around quickly to run, but was met with another face. A young man this time. Part of his jaw was missing, his face stuck in a permanent scream.
I didn’t pause.
I ran – legs burning, lungs screaming – across the drive, through the heavy iron gates that marked the edge of the school grounds, and down the wet, muddy cliff path. Rain lashed my face, stinging my cheeks, but I didn’t slow. I kept going until I physically couldn’t go any further.
Gasping, I risked a look over my shoulder.
Nothing.
The road appeared normal. Trees rising on either side, their branches swaying in the wind. Pale moonlight filtered through the canopy.
Nothing was following me.
I slowed to a stop, bent forwards and put my hands on my thighs, breathing heavily.
Who were they? Victims of the ‘Masked Men’? Or simply two poor souls who lost their lives near the grounds?
I didn’t recognise either of them from the newspaper clippings, but then again, there were too many of them for me to get a good look at all their photos.
When I could breath again, I stood up to my full height.
‘Iris?’ I swung round at the voice and gasped as my eyes locked on Archer, standing right in front of me.
‘Shit,’ I puffed, putting my hand to my chest. ‘You scared me.’
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was waiting for you further down and thought I heard something.’ He indicated behind him, and I could see the faint glow of car headlights inching through the trees. ‘Are you okay?’ He looked worried.
‘I—’ I started. Again, I looked behind me, up the path back towards the school. Still nothing. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Iris,’ he said, tone soothing, ‘your voice is shaking.’ His hands settled on my shoulders, warm and steady, as he leaned in towards me. ‘You’re shaking.’ His eyes were full of concern, his eyebrows drawn together as he stared at me.
After I didn’t say anything, he took my hands in his and guided me forwards. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s get you in the warm.’
I let him guide me down the path towards his vehicle – a sleek black town car with tinted windows – and allowed him to open the door.
As I slid inside, the warmth enveloped me.
The cream seats were soft and the interior smelled of pine and leather.
The driver’s door opened and Archer appeared, his strong presence filling the small space.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked again, his deep voice gentle.
I nodded. ‘I’m okay. Sorry, I…’ I shook my head. ‘I thought I saw something. It’s fine… I’m fine.’
He pondered my words for a moment before enclosing my fingers in his. ‘Never apologise to me, Iris.’
I gave him a small smile and nodded. I didn’t know how he did it, only that Archer had a way of calming me. Of making me feel safe. As he turned the key and the engine hummed to life, the car eased down the cliff path, pulling us farther from Ashcroft.
I should have felt afraid – sneaking off with him.
I’d just been scared out of my wits, and now I was slipping off campus with my Professor, breaking rules I’d never imagined myself breaking. Yet his presence was calming beside me – warm and real – and it made the danger feel distant.
Excitement curled low in my chest as he placed his warm, strong hand on my thigh, squeezing slightly, his eyes remaining on the road. The gesture was so calm, so natural. I let myself relax slightly back into the seat.
As the silhouette of Ashcroft retreated in the rearview mirror, disappearing behind the trees, I felt as if I’d crossed a line with him that there was no returning from.
And I felt okay with that.