Chapter 2

Leaving his office, I found myself in a hallway stretching on into eternity in each direction. Ephraim simply turned to the right and started walking, undaunted.

I was about to ask where we were going when a door to my left opened and another Ephraim emerged from it. He walked up to his other self, and the two melded together without missing a step.

Behind this new Ephraim was another person, thankfully not a copy of myself. It was a young woman, around my age, with short hair and a long skinny face.

We made eye contact but couldn’t say anything before another door opened. The same thing happened again, but this time, it delivered another copy of Ephraim and a barrel-chested young man whose skin had gone a sickly green.

The process repeated until a mob surrounded me, with only one Ephraim leading the way down the long corridor. It felt like we’d walked miles, the thundering of our footsteps drowning out the anxious silence.

Everyone’s face mirrored my own dumbstruck expression, so it felt pointless to ask questions. After what seemed like hours, the group slowed just as a massive wooden door appeared, finally marking the end of the hallway.

Upon opening, the doors revealed the nave of a cathedral. The room was long, shining with glossy red wood and rich red carpet. We bottlenecked into the aisle between the pews, walking to the front before dispersing into the seats.

A thunder clap of music echoed around us, making us all flinch. Following the sound, I found a balcony stretched along the wall behind us. It hosted a massive organ, whose gleaming silver arms extended like octopus tentacles. Flanking the proud instrument were younger people, all dressed in black. They sat in four sections, though I couldn’t guess the significance of the arrangement.

Taking a seat, I did my best not to stare at the mousey blonde next to me. Her cheeks were streaky, as if she’d been crying.

Should I be crying?

Abstractly speaking, it seemed like a reasonable reaction, but I couldn’t muster it myself.

Ephraim crossed the stage and stopped at a podium.

“Testing, testing—is this thing on?” he said into the microphone before laughing at his joke.

A few snickers came from above, but my group was still terrified into silence.

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” He cleared his throat. “Welcome to another term at Revenant Academy.”

The people looming on the balcony cheered, making everyone around me, including myself, stiffen with surprise.

He smiled and waved them off affectionately. “Yes, very good. And while I’m sure plenty of you would rather be off socializing, there are a few people here who need to be introduced and sorted.”

A few more whoops sounded from overhead.

“For our new students,” Ephraim said, recapturing the room’s attention, “we would love to offer you a warm welcome. My name is Ephraim, and I am the chancellor of Revenant Academy. Are we all clear on what a chancellor is?”

He waited before someone from the balcony piped up.

“Just tell us anyway.”

He shot them a look, and I got the sense this wasn’t the first time the others had heard this speech. “In short, I’m the head of the school. The faculty reports to me, and if there’s a problem, it’s my job to resolve it. Capisce?”

No one around me responded.

“While I have everyone’s attention, yes, even our older students”—jovial boos sounded from the balcony—“I’m going to start with the rules.” He cleared his throat again. “Firstly, and I say this with the utmost seriousness, do not venture outside the school grounds unless I’ve signed off on it. This campus is the only place I can assure your safety in purgatory. The same rule applies to the mortal world. You attend this school for a reason. It’s serious business beyond the gate.”

That finally got a few murmurs from the people around me.

While I was still grappling to picture what the school would be like, it hadn’t occurred to me to consider what was beyond it.

“Secondly, on the topic of managing curiosity, I understand the frustration of not remembering the details of your life. I assure you, this is for your own good. It is important to establish your identity and future here before digging through the past. You’ll be granted that information if you make it to the end of your first year.”

He gave us a second to let that sink in.

“Next, you exist physically in this world, and our groundskeeper insists she is far too busy to clean splattered students off the walking paths every day. Please refrain from any extreme sports. Dead does not mean indestructible.”

Scuffling echoed from the balcony, and Ephraim’s eyes shot up at them. “Blair, if you want me to get through this speech any time in the next century, I recommend you resist the urge to be asinine.” He shook his head before directing his attention back to us. “Aptly, my final point is that you are all adults, and we expect you to act like it. If we wanted to be babysitters, we would enroll minors. Does anyone need any clarification?”

He let a moment of silence pass, eyes scanning the crowd. “No? All right, the next thing on our agenda is to explain our house system. We have four houses here that represent four afterlife career paths. Once I am done explaining them, I will invite you on stage individually to be sorted. Mind you, this is not a personality quiz, nor is it random. Each path represents what you seek now, in the afterlife. Or—rather—the nature of what you left unfinished.”

Everyone around me shifted, each person’s posture stiffening and making the rows of heads rise like gooseflesh. The mere mention of the unfinished life I couldn’t remember made my diaphragm tighten.

But before I could think too hard about it, Ephraim lifted his hand toward the right side of the balcony. “First, we have Custos.”

The balcony cheered, and everyone around me jumped in surprise.

“They’re what some people might colloquially recognize as guardian angels. Their main tasks are finding lost things, comforting mourners, and guiding people away from trouble.”

He pointed to the next group on the balcony, who cheered before he could get the words out. Smiling, he shook his head. “The longer you do that, the longer you have to sit here.”

That shut them up.

“As I was saying, the next house is Ultor—or what some people might recognize as demons.”

Everyone around me murmured in unison, which made the Ultor balcony laugh.

“Yes, yes, preconceived notions aside, they represent vengeance. And, as you can imagine, their main objective is to . . . punish.”

More dark laughter roiled from the balcony, which Ephraim silenced with a wave. “Next, we have Messor house, who you might recognize as reapers. They guide souls from one plane of existence to the other.”

While the balcony behind us clapped, I side-eyed the blond next to me, trying desperately to gauge the intended reaction. But alas, she didn’t look any more confident than I felt.

“And last but not least, is Iudex, the judges of the afterlife. They’re the ones who evaluate human morality, and on occasion, they even get to help bring mortals to justice.”

Rueful chuckling resounded overhead as Ephraim stepped down from behind the podium. He approached a glossy wooden coffin in front of the stage and opened it, revealing its satin guts.

“And now,” Ephraim said, slapping the rim of the casket, “it’s time to be sorted.”