Chapter 53 Wren
WREN
They found Masika standing in the forest, only a few yards from the Blackwood gates, a pile of ash beneath her feet.
But there was something growing from the ash…
a seedling. At first, Wren couldn’t quite tell what it was about Masika that was different.
She’d assumed it was the atmosphere. There was a strange crackle in the air.
A thick undercurrent of magic. But when she finally looked at Masika—properly looked at her—the realization struck Wren in a staggering blow.
The magic, the power Wren felt, was coming from her.
“Masika!” Emilio stumbled toward her, throwing his arms over her shoulders.
Wren couldn’t tell if he was genuinely oblivious to the power burning through Masika, or if he’d simply chosen to be.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you! The Demiens…
their shadow magic isn’t working. They’ve begun to scatter. ”
Masika didn’t seem surprised, only relieved.
“Good,” she whispered. “Then it’s done.”
“What happened?” August asked next to Wren. “And where’s Irene?”
Masika’s eyes flitted to the ash beneath her feet.
“Gone.”
“What do you mean gone?” Olivier echoed with a hollow laugh. “Did she leave?”
Masika flexed her right hand. There was a ring on her index finger. A shimmering golden band that glistened with a faint amber glow.
Has she always worn that? Wren wondered silently.
“The corruption has been cleansed,” Masika whispered, a waver of sorrow in her voice.
Emilio watched her intently, brows cinched together.
“What are you saying?”
Masika looked between them.
“The Soulless One’s ring was destroyed…but everything has a price.”
The weight of Masika’s words barreled into Wren and a strangled gasp escaped her throat.
She watched the realization strike the others, one by one.
Emilio staggered backward. Olivier shook his head, disbelief creasing his face.
August simply stood there, stone-faced, though Wren saw the way he dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand, the indents he left behind.
“No…” Emilio’s denial was heartbreaking. “No.”
“That idiot—” Olivier choked out. His panicked eyes landed on the pile of ash by Masika’s feet. “What…what was she thinking?”
August’s response was a breathless whisper.
“She saved us.”
Olivier flinched.
“At the expense of her own soul.”
“I didn’t say goodbye,” Emilio muttered helplessly, though it appeared as though he was speaking to himself, as if it had only now dawned on him.
Olivier strode toward Masika, gripping her by the arms, desperation in his stare.
“There has to be a way to get her back.” He searched her face, pleading. “This can’t be it…she can’t be gone.”
“Her sacrifice is final.” Masika’s voice cracked. “She’s gone.”
And then she told them everything. How the True Headmaster and the Soulless One had been connected—one and the same.
How Irene had chosen to sacrifice her own soul to save the afterlife, absorbing the ring’s power and letting it consume her.
And how, in the wake of that destruction, hidden among the rubble and ash, a new Headmaster had been beckoned, chosen by the academy and ushered from the darkness.
Masika.
The Headmaster of Blackwood Academy.
“Holy shit,” Olivier muttered, looking Masika up and down. “You mean…you’re the new Headmaster?”
Masika lifted her hand, gesturing to the ring glistening upon her index finger.
“It…chose me.” Her voice wavered, but she continued. “I don’t know why. And I don’t expect I ever will, but…all I know is that this is my duty. What I was called for. What I was born for.”
Wren’s knees buckled. Just as the words had left Masika’s lips, that same searing pain had begun to twist at her insides.
Whatever morsel of strength the healer had offered her vanished, and she collapsed onto her knees, though August was next to her by the time she hit the floor, his strong hands holding her steady as he lowered himself beside her.
“What is it?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
The world swayed around her.
“I’m…fine.”
“You’re not.” His voice was rough, desperate.
Masika knelt beside Wren. She placed her hand upon Wren’s cheek. At her touch, a searing heat crawled through Wren’s skin. A presence. It was Masika. She was in Wren’s mind, in the heart of her very soul. And when their eyes met, Wren knew.
This was it.
My time is up.
“What is it?” August looked between them. “What’s happening to her?”
“The piece of your soul tethering her to this plane can only hold for so long.” Masika dragged her eyes to August. Her expression was solemn. “And once it breaks…” Her voice trailed off as she dropped her hand.
August shook his head, indignation building behind his eyes.
“Do something.”
Masika mulled over his words.
“There’s only one thing I can do.”
And then she pushed herself back onto her feet and called upon her power.
It cascaded out of her in a brilliant halo, rays of golden light that ebbed and flowed around her. Wren had never seen anything more beautiful. Masika’s entire body was alight. Her amber eyes glowing like the heart of the sun.
“I can give her a second chance.” Masika’s voice reverberated, echoing as if she were all around them. “But just one more.”
“Another chance at what?” August asked.
Masika stared down at them. The faintest wisp of a smile curled on her lips.
“Life.”
And then Masika brought her hands together and the magic exploded out of her.
Wren shielded her eyes, momentarily blinded by the wave of golden light.
When her vision finally cleared, she saw the doorway that had appeared before them.
Fashioned from stone and vines, the door was propped open, a swirling vortex of color looming on the other side.
Life.
Wren’s heart soared as the word echoed in her mind.
“I can live again?” she asked, unable to stifle the hope clinging stubbornly inside her.
“Your soul will be reborn,” Masika explained. “But…there’s a condition. You wouldn’t remember anything. You’d forget all about this…about us.”
August didn’t hesitate. He turned to Masika, eyes wide and pleading. “Let me go with her.”
Masika hesitated. “You could go with her…technically speaking. But the same condition would apply to you. Your memories of Blackwood would be gone. Your memories of Wren would be gone.”
“I have to go,” August replied, his face marked with determination. “I have to try.”
But how could she ask that of him? How could she expect him to end his own soul?
“You could stay here, August.” Wren managed a weak, hollow smile. “Help rebuild Blackwood. You could live the eternity you’ve always wanted. Free from your sister. From your duty. You could just…exist.”
“Don’t you get it?” August laughed, but tears welled behind his eyes. “You are my eternity, Wren. My soul is yours. In this life and the next.”
Wren found herself laughing too, though her own tears prickled the back of her eyes. She reached her hands out and placed them gently on his cheeks. She traced the angular lines of his cheekbones. His jaw. The scar etched beneath his eye. His thick brows. The gentle curl of his raven-black hair.
She needed to remember him. To etch his face into her memory. To find a way to defy the laws of nature. It didn’t matter what Masika said—she would remember him.
She would always remember him.
“I will find you.” August cupped Wren’s face in his hands. Their foreheads touched, gently, reverently. “Wherever we go. Wherever we end up. That is my promise to you, Wren Loughty. I will find you. I will find you.”
Their lips met and it was desperate and raw and messy. Wren threaded her hand through his curls, pulling him tighter. She just needed one more second with him. One more kiss. She just needed more.
Wren pulled away and they slowly made their way back onto their feet. Behind them, Olivier and Emilio watched, hands interlocked. Olivier cleared his throat, biting back a swell of emotions, while Emilio sobbed freely beside him.
“I would say see you later, though I’m not entirely certain I will,” Olivier said.
Wren smiled. “I don’t think you will.”
Olivier paused, as if considering something. “Then I suppose…have a good life is appropriate.” He looked between Wren and August and let out a shaky breath. “Both of you.”
August nodded. His jaw flexed as he managed a feeble smile. “We’ll try.”
Their eyes landed on Emilio, though the boy seemed completely inconsolable, unable to mutter anything but a soft and nearly incomprehensible “I’ll miss you.”
Wren felt her heart break in two.
“Don’t worry, Emilio.” August offered the boy a reassuring smile. “We’re really only one door away.”
Emilio nodded, sniffling. “Suppose that’s true.”
“Listen…” Masika’s voice grew solemn as she looked among them. “There’s no way for me to guarantee you’ll ever cross paths, let alone be able to recognize one another. I can only usher your souls into a new life. But that’s it. It’ll be like you never met.”
Wren exhaled a thready breath. “I know, but…we have to try.”
August and Wren turned to look at one another.
This was it. There was no going back, no changing their minds, once they crossed through that door.
Their souls, as they’d come to know them, would be gone.
Ripped from one existence and thrust into another.
But it was also their only chance. Their only hope.
And that was the point of life, anyway, wasn’t it? To dare to hope? To dare to love?
Wren planted one last kiss against August’s lips.
“I’ll see you in the next life?” she asked.
August wiped a fallen tear from her cheek. “I’ll see you in the next life.”
And then Wren Loughty and Augustine Hughes walked through the doorway, hand in hand…and ceased to exist.