Chapter 28 Irene
IRENE
There weren’t many Ascended duties that Irene was fond of, but reformatory watch had to be one of the worst. It was incessantly boring, not to mention an absolute waste of her time and talents.
It wasn’t like the students in reformatory could leave.
A magical barrier surrounded the room, which meant that even if they wanted to try to escape, they couldn’t.
Irene’s presence was merely an extra defensive measure.
A stupid one, Irene thought with a grumble.
She crossed her arms and leaned her head against the door. She could hear what sounded like sobbing on the other side, but it was muffled. It didn’t matter either way. She’d dealt with reformatory before.
The kid would survive.
As the afternoon ticked by, slow and seemingly endless, Irene’s mind wandered to her last conversation with Mateo.
She didn’t understand why he was being so secretive.
Sure, she hadn’t technically joined the Order yet, but she was quite literally risking her soul to help them infiltrate the school.
Shouldn’t that be enough reassurance that she was on their side?
Shouldn’t that be enough to convince them that she was truly one of their—
Irene.
Irene stilled, yanked out of her thoughts. Had someone spoken her name? She glanced left and right, but there was nobody lurking in either of the corridors flanking her. Could it have been the student on the other side?
Irene.
She jumped, startled. Okay. Now she was certain she’d heard a voice. It had come from the left, farther down the corridor. Screw it. It wasn’t like the student in reformatory was going anywhere.
Irene ventured down the corridor, listening intently. Waiting, and waiting, and…
Irene.
The voice was right behind her.
She spun on her heels, bracing for a fight, but instead came face to face with her own reflection.
It was a mirror. It was floating, the golden frame hovering in the air.
“Hello?” Irene called out, feeling a bit foolish for talking to her own reflection.
She waited. For a moment, she swore she saw something changing in her reflection, another set of eyes staring back at her, another face lurking in the distance. Irene took a rigid step backward…but it was too late.
Irene barely had time to gasp before a pair of hands reached out, gripping her shoulders, and pulled her into the mirror.
She landed on her hands and knees in a rather ungraceful heap.
The first thing she noticed was that she recognized the room she’d been thrown into.
It was the main hall of Bonestrod. She’d recognize those dark, decrepit floorboards anywhere.
And if there was anybody who enjoyed meeting in Bonestrod, anybody who enjoyed dramatic entrances…
Irene groaned. “Silas.”
The Headmaster’s voice echoed not a second after. “Thank you for meeting me here, Irene. Apologies for the abrupt call.”
Headmaster Silas was standing by the stone hearth, Samira and Everly waiting by his side. They looked equally frazzled and disheveled, which led Irene to believe they’d been called here in the same unconventional manner.
“Honestly?” Irene pushed herself to her feet, blowing a strand of dark hair away from her face. “I’m starting to get used to it.”
“All right. Irene is here.” Everly crossed her arms, staring up at Silas with a scowl. “Can you please tell us if this is a test now?”
Silas’s lips curved into a smirk. “It’s…something like that.”
He turned to the fireplace, pulling down on one of the sconces. Instantly, the wall behind them shifted, revealing a hidden room on the other side. Irene balked. Had that always been there? Before any of them could utter another word, Silas guided them forward, ushering them into the room.
Shock coursed through Irene when she saw what waited for them. “Is this…an armory?” she asked, bewildered.
It certainly looked like it. Weapons adorned every inch of the walls. Swords. Spears. Daggers. Arrows. There had to be hundreds of objects concealed within the room, an array of defensive equipment.
“As a member of the Council, you are not just a defender of Blackwood.” Silas wandered over to the section of the room containing what appeared to be dozens of bows and arrows.
He took hold of three arrows, brandishing them.
“You are a soldier.” He tossed one to each of them, and Irene caught hers with ease, letting the weight of the arrow settle upon her hand.
“All of the weapons found here are activated by your loyalty to Blackwood.”
“Activated?” Samira echoed. She tapped the pointed edge of the arrowhead. “Don’t you just…shoot it?”
“These are not ordinary weapons.” Silas grabbed a fourth arrow, and the moment he closed his palm around it, a glistening white light erupted from the shaft, nearly blinding Irene.
She shielded her eyes. The other girls winced, lowering their gazes as the light exploded all around them.
Somewhere beyond the dazzling light, Silas’s voice continued to echo.
“They hold an ancient magic. One that is activated by true loyalty to Blackwood. Once activated, these weapons hold the ability to rip into the core of someone’s soul.
Destroy them with nothing but a single arrow to the heart. ”
The light vanished. Irene blinked, dazed, and noticed that Silas had placed the arrow back in its slot.
“You mean, we can destroy a soul with nothing but an arrow?” Everly asked through a chuckle.
Silas nodded. “If your loyalty is strong—then yes.”
Everly rolled her eyes, as if the mere thought of her loyalty being tested was nothing more than a silly nuisance.
She wrapped her hand tightly around her arrow and closed her eyes, and Irene watched as a similar light burned through her and into the arrow.
Unlike Silas’s, Everly’s light wasn’t blinding.
Squinting, Irene could keep her gaze anchored on the other girl, despite the halo of light surrounding her.
“Very nice, Ms. Hawthorne.” Silas nodded in approval.
Everly opened her eyes and the light vanished. She turned to Samira with arrogant satisfaction. “Go on. Let’s see what yours looks like.”
Samira flipped the end of her braid behind her shoulders and took her stance.
She gripped her arrow tightly, closing her hands, and exhaled a steadying breath.
Irene waited. There was a slight delay, and Everly had already begun to curl her lips into a smug grin when a light suddenly exploded out of Samira’s arrow.
It was brighter than Everly’s, enough that Irene had to shield her eyes, though not nearly bright enough to light up the entire room.
Samira let out a triumphant giggle and opened her eyes. The light vanished only seconds after.
“Wonderful, Ms. Heydari.” Silas nodded encouragingly. “Splendid work.”
Irene couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at seeing Everly’s smirk falter, though that feeling was instantly squashed when the group turned to look at her and she realized it was her turn.
A thought settled upon Irene without warning.
I’m going to fail.
What loyalty did she truly have to Blackwood? She’d been able to trick the Council into believing she was worth trusting, but could she fake loyalty to Blackwood? And under Silas’s watchful gaze?
Her hand shook as she took hold of the arrow.
She could feel the grating stares of the others—Samira and Everly watching, a hunger in their expressions.
They wanted her to fail. To watch her slip and fall.
And then there was Silas. It was difficult to discern what exactly he was thinking, but the intensity of his gaze made Irene’s skin crawl.
Just breathe, she told herself. Focus.
Irene closed her eyes. She tried to search for a connection to Blackwood, to recall Silas’s words back in Boston, but her mind felt fractured.
Too many memories flitting in and out of her consciousness.
Lately, it had been impossible to figure out where her loyalties truly lay.
Could she even say she fully trusted Mateo anymore?
It was obvious he was keeping secrets from her.
Concealing information. But she still wanted to help him… to join the Order.
Didn’t she?
Something was stirring inside her. Another voice. Another memory.
“I see…the war in you. Your heart…is split. Two sides…”
Thalia. The words she had spoken to Irene in the dungeons. Right before Irene stood back and watched Thalia’s soul disintegrate into nothing.
“I wonder…which…you will choose.”
A face threaded its way through her mind. Amber eyes. Deep brown skin. A small, knowing smile. Irene reached for it, but her fingers came up empty, nothing but wisps of smoke threading through her fingers.
Masika.
The name burned through Irene. And then something snapped.
Irene opened her eyes…and the darkness of Bonestrod had shattered.
All around, emanating from the heart of Irene’s arrow, exploded a blazing white light. It undulated in shimmering waves, bursting through her and around her, enveloping every corner of the room. There was a heat burrowing into Irene’s palm. A power.
She glanced up, hands shaking, and met Silas’s gaze. Something was glinting in his eyes. A look that made Irene’s chest tighten. A blanket of goose bumps covering every inch of her skin.
Pride.
When Irene dropped the arrow, letting it clatter to the floor, the light vanished, darkness falling upon Bonestrod once again.
She didn’t understand why it had worked—why her arrow had burned the brightest of them all.
If the arrows were strengthened by true, unwavering loyalty to Blackwood…
then did that mean Irene’s loyalties had shifted? Whether she was conscious of it or not?
Irene shivered as another question burned its way through her mind. She thought she could ignore it, push it away, force it to the periphery, but there was no escaping it now. It echoed in her mind, unrelenting, demanding an answer.
Whose side am I really on?
Irene was afraid to find out.