Chapter 6 Emilio #2

“It is,” Masika whispered. “Or, at least, it should be.”

“But…” Emilio dragged his finger along the wall. “Isn’t this her office?”

“The key must be for something else, then…” Masika scurried deeper into the room, beelining toward the desk. “To open something hidden in here.”

“You mean this mysterious, unknown thing that Birdie and Russo may or may not have found?” Olivier asked warily.

Masika pierced him with a glare and Olivier instantly raised a hand in surrender.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Masika rolled her eyes and continued to riffle through the papers strewn across the desk, digging through the various drawers.

“This is the most heavily guarded area in the base for a reason,” she muttered. “Why else would Catherine keep this key on her at all times?”

Emilio hadn’t the faintest clue. He rested against the nearest wall, crossing his arms as he peered over at Masika. “See anything?”

She let out a frustrated groan, anxiously tucking a curl behind her ear.

“No. Nothing. But it has to be here. I know it. It’s just this feeling—” Masika was abruptly cut off when something shifted behind Emilio.

The wall he was leaning against quite literally moved, a deep grumble echoing in the air as the stone slid behind him.

Emilio yelped, nearly falling backward, though he quickly righted himself.

When he swiveled on his heels, he realized the stone wall behind him had parted to reveal a hidden door.

“Uh…” Olivier chuckled nervously. “It appears our darling Emilio has found something.”

Masika’s eyes widened. “What did you do?”

Emilio raised his hands in surrender. “I just leaned!”

“This must be what the key is for…” Olivier whispered, cautiously peering over Emilio’s shoulder.

Masika quickly scurried over, placing the key inside the lock. She jiggled the knob, fidgeting slightly with the key, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. Emilio held his breath, waiting…

Click.

The trio let out a breath of relief as the door swung open.

Inside, there was only a single piece of parchment floating in the air, dangling as though it were suspended by an invisible string. Masika wasted no time. She snatched it from the air, angling it toward one of the iron sconces. Emilio noticed words etched onto its aged surface…symbols and shapes.

The three of them leaned in closer, staring down in wonder.

“What is it?” Olivier asked, squinting.

Masika snapped her fingers and a sphere of light appeared, illuminating the air around them. With the help of Masika’s magic, Emilio could now see that it wasn’t just symbols and shapes drawn upon the piece of parchment…

“It’s a map,” said Masika, tracing her fingers over the mountains and valleys drawn upon its surface.

“Of what?” Olivier asked.

“Purgatory,” Emilio whispered. Of course. He recognized it now. “I think these are the areas that the Resistance has successfully mapped out so far. I’ve seen some similar copies hung in archives in the Western Wing.”

A clear outline of Blackwood loomed at the center of the map, surrounded by a dense forest. To the west was a craggy landscape dotted with mountains and canyons, with the Resistance’s manor concealed at the farthest end.

The manor had been crafted through an enchantment, created by the founding members of the Resistance.

It was completely invisible on the outside, its location ever-changing.

The eastern side of the map was mainly uncharted, though there was a general perimeter for where the Resistance believed the Demien Order’s encampment was hidden.

Similar to the Resistance’s manor, the Demien Order’s location was a mystery, their base hidden by layers upon layers of cloaking enchantments and defensive wards.

But there was something different about this copy. It wasn’t just a map of purgatory…it was a map to something. An obvious path had been laid out, instructions detailing a straight route out of the base.

“It’s leading us somewhere,” whispered Masika, clearly coming to the same realization.

Olivier and Emilio watched intently as Masika placed her fingertip delicately against the map and traced the path written upon it—a straight line from the Resistance’s base to what appeared to be a large tree deep within the surrounding forest.

Emilio cocked his head in confusion. Olivier matched his puzzled expression.

“A tree,” Olivier muttered with a lilt of annoyance. “The map leads to a tree…surrounded by other trees.”

“Hold on.” Masika brought the map closer. “There’s a signature. Some sort of writing…”

She was right. A small inscription and a set of initials were inked at the bottom.

Masika cleared her throat and read the words out loud. “Follow the path. The keys are the answer. This is not my end.”

“It’s signed TH,” Emilio noted, his fingers brushing against the ink.

“TH?” Olivier muttered. “Who the hell is TH?”

The words had barely left his lips when Masika let out a gasp, nearly dropping the map to the floor. Olivier reached out, steadying her, placing a hand on her arm before the parchment could slip out of her grasp.

“Masika…what is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

“When Birdie and Russo first found me in the mountain during the third trial…they told me about Blackwood’s history.

” Masika’s eyes darted between the two boys as she spoke, her fingers trembling.

“How Silas was a Corrupted Soul who learned to harness his power when he was thrown into the Shadow Lands—”

“We know this already, Masika,” Olivier interjected softly. “Silas destroyed the original Headmaster of Blackwood and took over. It’s why the Ether has been so off-balance. It senses his corruption. It knows he’s not meant to be there.”

“I know. But…” Masika inhaled a shaky breath, hands tracing the map. “When they told me…they didn’t just call him the original Headmaster of Blackwood. They called him something else.”

“What?” Emilio whispered.

Masika glanced up, amber eyes burning.

“The True Headmaster.”

There was a tense beat of silence. The weight of her words fell upon them like a sudden gust of wind.

“What are you saying?” Olivier asked, a haunted strain in his voice.

“This is not my end. Don’t you get it?” Masika let out a shuddering breath. “The True Headmaster is still out there…and the Resistance intends to find him.”

It couldn’t be true.

It couldn’t.

But there was no denying what was written upon these pages.

No erasing what they had just learned.

It was at that exact moment that the office door swung open with a flourish, revealing Catherine on the other side, a glowing spear clutched in her right hand. Her expression was lethal, her eyes narrowed on them like two finely sharpened blades.

“The three of you…” Catherine said, seething, her voice ringing with authority. “Come with me…now.”

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