Chapter 11 Masika
MASIKA
Masika was thinking about her father when the first bell rang out.
She wasn’t fixated on a particular memory, though she had plenty of those to reminisce on.
It was simply him. The deep rumble of his laughter.
The scent that clung to him—warm amber cologne mixed with cigarette smoke.
The rough texture of his callused hands, hardened from years of manual labor.
She rarely let herself think of the past anymore; she’d closed the door to that life long ago.
But as she waited, standing at the entrance to the Southern Wing, the familiar traces of panic building inside her, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander, to indulge in the memory of him, no matter how painful.
Anxiety is a trickster. It’ll convince you that you’re not the one in charge…that you don’t have control over your mind, he’d whisper to her. You gotta look it in the eyes and prove it wrong. Because you are the one in charge, my darling girl. And you are far stronger than you realize.
Masika wrapped her arms across her chest, if just to still her trembling hands, and groaned in frustration.
It had been her idea, after all. She had been the first one to speak out, to volunteer to be a part of the expedition crew.
And she wanted to. It beckoned her—the hunger for adventure, the call demanding to be answered.
But that didn’t stop the anxiety from rising inside her, sneaking into the darkest parts of her mind, planting seeds of doubt.
You’ll fail, it seemed to whisper. You’ll disappoint them all.
Masika shut her eyes, willing the thoughts to stop, to leave her alone.
Somewhere behind her, footsteps echoed, growing louder and louder.
Two familiar voices rose, cutting through the panic, drowning out the doubt filling her skull.
And then Masika opened her eyes and Olivier and Emilio were there, standing next to her.
The moment she saw their faces, it was like she could breathe again. All the panic, all the doubt—gone.
The boys were both dressed in their training uniform: black shirt with black pants, a leather armored vest over the torso and a backpack slung over the shoulders—though Emilio, of course, had also slipped his wool sweater over the top.
He was holding the little creature from before, Benji; he was tucked snugly in Emilio’s arms. The mutant puppy began to wag his tail the moment he spotted Masika.
“You guys came,” she said.
“Of course.” Emilio scrunched his face in confusion. “Did you think we wouldn’t?”
Masika shook her head. She hadn’t known what to think. Perhaps she simply wasn’t used to having friends who followed through with their promises, who told her they’d be there for her and actually meant it.
“You’re stuck with us,” said Olivier with a smirk. He wrapped his arm around Masika’s shoulders. “For better or for worse.”
Masika smiled and looked between the two of them. “Thank you.”
The trio turned to face the large double doors of the Battle Room. Muffled voices echoed just beyond. A collective realization seemed to wash over the trio, an understanding that if they walked through those doors, if they truly decided to do this, there would be no going back.
“Are we ready?” whispered Olivier. His usual bravado had faded, replaced by a tentative look of apprehension that made Masika’s chest tighten. If Olivier, of all people, was frightened, then perhaps they all should be.
Emilio clutched Benji in his arms, and the little creature shivered, as if even he understood the gravity of the situation.
“Ready,” muttered Emilio.
Masika let out a shuddering breath.
“Ready.”
And then Olivier pushed open the doors and the three of them walked inside.
Even though Masika had been anticipating a small group, it still unnerved her to see their crew in person. They weren’t exactly the most intimidating bunch.
Can we really do this on our own? Masika wondered, glancing around the table as she took in the faces of the others within the crew.
There was Dina, the silver-haired girl from the meeting.
Masika wasn’t sure what it was about the girl, but she didn’t entirely trust her.
She had a flighty, restless look in her eyes…
like she was always itching for a fight.
And then there was Analisa, the healer with a particular fascination with Olivier’s fading memories.
Masika noted the look of pure annoyance on Olivier’s face when he spotted the healer standing in the room, his eyes rolling so far back into his head that she truly wondered if they might get stuck there.
There were Emilio and Olivier, of course.
Out of everybody there, Masika trusted them the most. Not just for their talents, but for their loyalty as well.
Masika knew she could rely on them if things went south—that they wouldn’t leave her behind to save their own skins.
She couldn’t say the same for the others in the room.
And then there was Catherine.
Masika hadn’t expected her to join the expedition crew, especially given her leadership position among the Resistance, but it appeared that time was truly of the essence, and Catherine had ostensibly decided to take matters into her own hands.
“Any questions?” Catherine asked now, seated at the head of the table. Silver spaulders adorned her shoulders, her entire torso covered in leather armor, an array of blades strapped to her waist and thighs.
She looked lethally beautiful. It made Masika loathe her that much more.
“What if we don’t return?” asked Dina, a curl of amusement on her lips. She lay slumped in her chair, legs spread wide, twirling a knife against the surface of the table. “I suppose what I mean is…what happens if we fail? What if, despite everything, we don’t find the True Headmaster?”
Catherine didn’t so much as flinch. “Then someone else will try.”
“And if we run out of time?” muttered Analisa. Her brows were pinched together, a weary look on her face. “You said it yourself—it’s only a matter of time before the Demien Order attacks.”
“If they attack before we locate the True Headmaster, then the others will fight them on their own until we can make it back to them. Birdie and Russo have been prepped.”
Olivier scoffed, muttering something under his breath. At his reaction, Catherine rolled her eyes.
“Have something to say?” she asked with a sigh.
“No,” Olivier shot back. “I just highly doubt we have what it takes to fight both Silas and the Demien Order without the True Headmaster’s assistance.
We’re kind of outnumbered. Blackwood has hundreds of students—not to mention the literal Headmaster of the afterlife.
God knows how many recruits the Demien Order has, though they’ve clearly had enough time to prepare their ranks.
And then there’s us with…what…a hundred?
Maybe a tiny bit more?” Olivier rapped his fingers against the table and sighed.
“I don’t mean to be a downer, but…we’re kind of screwed without the True Headmaster. ”
“Then I reckon we better find him,” muttered Dina with a wink.
Catherine stood up from the table, the silver tip of her spear glinting as the blue sheen of the chandelier fell upon her.
“Well, I suppose that settles it, then…” When nobody stirred, she scraped her chair back and turned to face the other side of the room.
The group rose from their seats, and Masika followed suit, the panic from earlier slowly taking hold once again.
“Follow me,” Catherine instructed, walking toward the southernmost wall. She paused when she reached the perimeter, glancing over her shoulder. “Everyone ready?”
The crew nodded. A hallowed silence had filled the air, and nobody seemed to want to be the one to break it. Catherine pressed her hand against the stone wall. One by one the stone slabs began to shift, spreading open, until a large archway stood before them.
Masika felt it first—the cold gust of wind brushing against her shoulders, a sudden chill running down her spine.
And then came the smell—thick pine swirling in the air, a warm earthy musk filling her lungs.
Catherine stepped forward and walked through the arch.
Masika could see what lay beyond—a seemingly endless prairie stretching out before them, dotted with tall grass and wildflowers, the horizon blanketed by jagged snowcapped mountains in the distance.
Dina and Analisa walked through, following Catherine, though Emilio and Olivier lingered behind, standing by Masika’s side. The trio looked at one another.
One final glance.
One last chance to change their minds.
But nobody said a word; and then the three of them walked through the arch, out into the darkness, and sealed their fate.