Chapter 30 Irene
IRENE
“You may enter, Ms. Bamford.”
Irene tried to ignore the blanket of goose bumps cascading down her arms as she stepped into Headmaster Silas’s office.
There was nothing otherworldly about the room, nothing outright menacing, but it was still disconcerting, as though the four walls were breathing around her, the air pulsating with power.
She tried to mold her expression into one of indifference, overly aware of each sharp breath expanding her lungs.
She’d received the summons later that night, after the weaponry test in Bonestrod, a letter slipped beneath her door.
Upon reading its contents, Irene had been instantly struck by a wave of anxiety.
She’d already been left shaken by the demonstration with the arrows—a strange, disconcerting feeling churning in her stomach.
She shouldn’t feel loyalty toward Blackwood, and yet…
did she? The arrow seemed to think she did.
But perhaps Silas had seen the deceit written upon her face. The doubt.
Maybe he’d called her to his office to expose her lies, once and for all.
But now, as she sat across from Headmaster Silas, she set aside all that apprehension and slipped on her carefully curated mask. She wouldn’t cower and plead for mercy. She’d look him straight in the eyes, until the very end.
“What can I help you with, Headmaster?” she asked, tone level.
Silas smiled, though there was a slight edge to it.
“I wanted to see how you were feeling.”
Irene cocked her head. That was not what she had been expecting. “I’m…fine.”
“The Council test period can be rather exhausting,” Silas commented, hands clasped in front of him. “It’s a lot of pressure.”
Irene cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. “I don’t mean to be blunt, Headmaster, but you can’t expect me to actually believe you give a damn about my feelings.”
Silas let out a chuckle. He lowered his reading glasses, letting them hang around his neck from a small golden chain.
Irene wondered if she’d pushed him too far, but Silas didn’t seem rattled by her comment.
If anything, he relaxed even further into his leather chair, the strained smile on his lips melting into one of familiarity.
“You make a fair point,” he replied. He tapped his fingers against his desk. “I suppose I should just cut to the chase, shouldn’t I?”
Irene molded her lips into a rigid smile. “I think that’s best.”
Silas clasped his hands together. “Tonight…” he began, voice low and foreboding, “…after this meeting, you and the other Council candidates will enter the woods in search of something.”
Irene’s throat tightened. “In search of what?”
Silas’s dark eyes darted over her face. His expression grew solemn.
“The defensive wards that surround Blackwood don’t just protect the school from those who wish to infiltrate the grounds,” he explained. “They also warn us when someone is nearby. Almost like a security alarm.”
Irene shrugged. “So?”
Headmaster Silas’s eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tensing.
“A few minutes ago…one of the wards near the outer perimeter alerted us to a disturbance.” He stood from his chair, slowly, making his way toward the other side of his office. There, Irene spotted a stone pillar with a small sphere resting on top. Silas gestured her closer. “Please. Join me.”
Irene raised herself onto her feet, muscles tense and rigid. She approached Silas tentatively, apprehension in each step. When she finally planted herself beside him and peered down at the pillar, she realized it wasn’t actually a sphere resting on the top of the structure. It was a skull.
Irene leaned in closer, examining the alabaster skull with a furrowed brow. “What is this?”
Silas didn’t answer. He simply placed his hand on top of the skull; golden light trickled out of his palm, filling the skull’s shadowy cracks. Then, to Irene’s astonishment, the skull cracked open, revealing a small brass telescope nestled inside.
“The wards can’t give us a perfect visual,” Silas explained, reaching into the skull and removing the telescope. “But the image is clear enough.” He extended his arm, offering the telescope to Irene. “Here. See for yourself.”
Irene grabbed the telescope with a shaking hand. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but a horrible feeling had begun to unravel in the pit of her stomach. A nauseating sense of dread. She wrapped her fingers around the brass telescope and brought the eyepiece closer.
At first…all she saw was darkness.
And then the darkness began to move.
Shapes and figures formed within the shadowy wisps, the vague outline of Blackwood’s forest slowly coalescing.
There were bodies materializing in the vision too.
A group of six. Their forms were clear, especially those who lingered at the back of the group, but there was somebody standing near the front… a face Irene would recognize anywhere.
Irene couldn’t contain the gasp that sprang out of her.
The telescope toppled out of her hands. Her knees buckled beneath her.
She drew in strangled breaths as she tried to swallow back the panic, to push away the disbelief contorting her insides, and forced her eyes to meet Silas’s sobering gaze. The Headmaster of Blackwood Academy was staring at her with an intensity that Irene had never seen before.
“Is that—” She swallowed, shaking her head. “Is that her?” She couldn’t even bring herself to say her name out loud. Not when she wasn’t certain.
Silas picked up the telescope from the floor, placing it back inside the skull.
“I believe so, but…” His voice trailed off as the skull slowly closed around the telescope, its splintered cracks mending. “We have to be certain. We have to check.”
Irene’s heart sank in her chest.
No.
“You…” Irene cleared her throat. “You want me to check. You want me to go see if it’s her…don’t you?”
Silas nodded. “You and the other Council candidates will enter the forest and confirm her identity, as well as the others within her group.” Silas stepped closer, towering over Irene. “Ms. Bamford…you should know…this is your final test. Your last chance to show me that you belong here.”
This is it.
Despite the silence blanketing the space between them, Irene knew. It was something in the way Silas was staring at her. Something in the dark vortex of his gaze. If Irene agreed to go into the forest, if she swallowed the panic and terror rising up her throat…then she would be chosen.
She would join the Council.
“What if we’re right?” Irene whispered, voice wavering. “I mean…what if it is her?”
Silas hesitated. Around him, the air seemed to crackle with electricity, charged with a power Irene could barely fathom. But she wanted to. She wanted to reach out and rip it out of his chest. To seize it for herself.
“If it is her…” Silas whispered, a solemnness reverberating in his voice, “…then you must do what needs to be done.”