Chapter 13 Olivier
OLIVIER
For a journey riddled with danger, Olivier had found the first few hours to be rather boring.
They’d walked for what felt like an eternity, trekking through the seemingly endless prairie, eyes set eastward.
As dawn bled into early morning, Olivier could make out the dusty purple mountains in the distance, the barbed horizon of snowcapped peaks and craggy canyons.
Every once in a while, a warm scent washed over him—crisp apples mixed with woodsmoke—but it would vanish before he could trace its origin, swirling away in the wind.
Eventually, a dense landscape of dark green materialized in the distance.
Towering pine trees made up the looming forest ahead—the large expanse stretching as far as the eye could see.
As soon as they entered the mouth of the forest, a strange chill trickled down Olivier’s limbs, a tingling in his spine.
Something was changing.
Whether it was him or the atmosphere, it was hard to tell.
His mind felt…fractured. It had been unraveling since he had been dragged to the Resistance’s manor, but this feeling was different.
The disorienting presence he’d been experiencing since the Forgetting had first sunk its claws into his mind had seemingly doubled in size since he had set foot outside the manor’s walls.
There was a heaviness pressing upon his skull.
A dullness in his memories that terrified him to his core.
He didn’t even bother attempting to recollect a memory from his past—from his old life.
It would only solidify what he already knew.
Your time is running out.
He shivered as the thought bounced around in his head. Was it his own voice? Or the voice of a ghost clinging to his consciousness, beckoning him into oblivion? It was impossible to tell anymore.
Olivier refocused his attention on the woods.
There was no obvious path, so they weaved between trees, the crudely drawn map their only guide.
Olivier’s fingers brushed against damp earth and gnarled branches, little tufts of moss clinging to brittle bark.
He noticed that the leaves had morphed from a dark green to a morose palette of deep burgundy and charred black.
Above them, what sky he could see through the canopy of interconnected trees burned a strange umber, a swirling vortex of smoke-gray clouds moving with the wind.
A few steps ahead, Emilio walked beside Masika, that terrifying little creature snuggled in his arms. Dina and Catherine trudged along at the head of the group, their eyes locked forward, a silent determination in their movements.
Analisa, of course, had decided to plant herself right beside Olivier, her eyes drifting over to him every few seconds.
Ugh.
Can’t she just let me rot and wither away in peace?
Analisa snorted, biting back a smile. Olivier narrowed his gaze in confusion.
“What’s so funny?”
Her eyes widened as a sudden flush burned behind her cheeks. “Nothing,” she muttered, rubbing away her smile with the back of her hand.
Olivier stared at her. And stared at her. And—
He gasped as the realization dawned on him.
“Oh my God!” he shriek-whispered, grabbing her firmly by the arm and tugging her in closer. “Were you just…in my mind?”
“No,” Analisa replied, though she shrugged and added, “I mean…not technically. I was just…feeling around. And for the record—no. I’m not going to simply let you rot and wither away, despite your death wish.”
“Analisa!” Olivier hissed, lowering his voice.
His eyes darted to Emilio, but the other boy was too preoccupied with scratching the puppy in his arms to notice the conversation happening a few yards behind him.
“You cannot just poke and prod in my mind without asking. We’re not even in a healing session—”
“It’s getting worse,” she muttered abruptly. Her expression grew solemn. “Changing. I’ve felt it ever since we left the base. Something about purgatory’s atmosphere…” Her voice trailed off as she took in Olivier’s growing alarm. “You feel it too…don’t you?”
Olivier swallowed. “How long?”
Analisa nervously rubbed her wrist. “It wouldn’t be an accurate guess—”
Olivier cut her off, voice grave. “How. Long.”
Analisa fussed with the golden bangle on her arm. “Without the manor’s protection and our daily healing sessions?” She sucked in a breath, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. “A week. Maybe less.”
Olivier’s heart sank in his chest.
He tried to muster up something useful to say. Something meaningful. But all he could manage to utter in reply was a pathetic and defeated “Shit.”
Analisa reached out and squeezed his arm.
“I could be wrong,” she offered, though they both knew she wasn’t. “It could be longer.”
“Right.” Olivier snorted. “Or it could be less.”
A weighted silence fell between them. Analisa’s eyes traveled to Emilio. He was chatting with Masika, the puppy in his arms happily staring between the two of them as he dangled his head back in Emilio’s embrace.
“You should tell him,” Analisa muttered softly.
Panic surged through Olivier’s chest. He dragged his eyes away from Emilio. “And give him something else to worry about?” He shook his head. “No, thanks.”
“Right.” Analisa let out a dry chuckle. “Because lying to him about your imminent doom is super healthy. I’m sure that purposeful miscommunication won’t cause any problems whatsoever.”
“Okay, cut the sarcasm.” Olivier lifted a hand between them. “It’s weird.”
Analisa shrugged. “I learned from the best.”
Olivier groaned in frustration. She was right.
He hated that she was right. He should tell Emilio.
He deserved to know. Nothing good would come of withholding the truth from him.
He would find out eventually. But why distract Emilio when they were already in a dangerous situation? Why cause him even more pain?
“Look.” Olivier rubbed at his temples. “I’ll tell him…eventually. But we need to focus on finding this clue first.”
Analisa hummed. “I never figured you for a martyr.”
“I’m not,” Olivier muttered defensively, shooting her a frown. “And either way, I’m hardly religious enough to be branded a martyr.”
“Religion is about faith. And you believe in him with enough holy reverence to happily sacrifice your own soul at his altar.” Analisa stared at Olivier pointedly.
“So. Like I previously stated. Martyr.” And with that, she sauntered off, catching up to the rest of the group, but not before glancing over her shoulder and striking Olivier with one of her vexing all-knowing smiles.
Olivier groaned and rolled his eyes.
This is going to be a painfully long journey.