Traces of Sulfur

by Madeline Freeman

  I glanced around the room. There were no guards posted inside, and the push-bar doors would open from here, even if they were locked from the outside. “Not exactly.”

  There was another interminable pause. “I don’t understand. Why aren’t you on your way back then?”

  That was the question, wasn’t it? “The ceremony to find the new Blade Keeper… Like I said, the guard who found me wouldn’t let me out of his sight, so he put me in line to go through the trial.”

  “You…” Liza was quiet for a long moment. “Did you actually do it?”

  “Yes. And it… reacted.”

  Liza cursed. “So they know you’re a demon.” Although her tone didn’t indicate a question, I could still sense that Liza was trying to work out exactly what was happening. I couldn’t blame her; the same questions were spinning through my head. “I’ve heard some relics change color based on the lineage of the ethereal touching them…”

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “It changed color, yes, but… The girl in line behind me said something about how the Blade could read a person’s intentions, so when I touched it, I thought about how much I wanted to get out without anyone figuring out who I was. And the whole thing glowed red and the next thing I knew, the angels were all telling me I’m the new Blade Keeper.”

  The line was silent for so long I was afraid that the comms had gone dead—or maybe that Liza had passed out from shock. I still wasn’t sure I wouldn’t pass out at some point.

  “Are you sure it’s not a trap?”

  Her question echoed the one that had been going through my mind for the last several minutes. “I’m not sure of anything right now. I’m alone—for the moment—but I’m not sure if there’s someone guarding this room. Even if there’s not, I don’t know where the closest exit is.”

  “If you’re not in immediate danger, maybe running isn’t our play here,” Liza said slowly.

  I twisted my head, sure I’d stepped into some kind of transmission dead zone that messed with the comm. “You want me to stay here?”

  “Think about it,” Liza said, the words tumbling out quickly now. “When will we ever get this kind of chance again? If they think you’re one of them, you could gather intel for us.”

  I tried to work through her words. “Derek said the Blade Keepers were an elite group of warriors. I doubt anyone shares information about medical supplies with them.”

  “You’ve got to think bigger, Eden. This goes beyond medical supplies. You could know when the Guard is planning raids on our recovery centers or when they plan to do sweeps in parts of the city where we’re doing business. You could be our eyes and ears.”

  I inhaled deeply, hoping the influx of air might calm my racing thoughts. Just days ago I was gearing up for my very first mission to transport medicine, and now Liza was suggesting I go undercover as a Blade Keeper.

  “Look,” Liza said gently when I didn’t reply, “I’m having Derek and a few others move into position around City Hall. Leave your comm in, and if you need an extraction, tell me and they’ll get you out of there. But from what you said, I don’t think you’re in danger right now. You can do this Eden.”

  The confidence in her tone sent a calming wave through my body. Liza believed I could make the hand-off the other day despite the streets swarming with guards, and I’d done it. She trusted I could sneak into this building and acquire the medicine Marco needed, and it was now in her possession. If she thought I could do this, I had to trust she was right.

  “Okay. But I should sign off now. No clue when someone’s coming back to get me.”

  “You got it.” Three soft beeps let me know Liza had manually ended the connection on her end.

  My fingers twitched with nervous energy as I paced the room, waiting for someone to return. Everything inside me wanted to run, and I tamped down the traitorous emotions. Liza had given me a mission, and I would see it through.

  By the time the hall door swung open, I was so amped up I jumped, clutching my chest. The girl who had been standing at the front of the stage offered a small smile as she stepped into the room. This close, I could tell she was a little taller than I was. Beneath the fabric of her black uniform, her limbs were slender and strong-looking. “They’re ready for you.”

  My stomach twisted. “Who’s ‘they’?”

  She smiled again, kindness warming her sea-green eyes. “Well, she. Just Headmaster Kemp.” She tipped her head to the side, studying me. “Here.”

  She darted toward me so swiftly I had to clasp my hands in front of me to keep from striking out. The powers that be would be suspicious if my first instinct was to punch any angel within reach.

  Before I could ask what she was doing, the girl had lifted the ponytail off my back. But instead of yanking backward to expose my neck, she cradled it before an odd pulling sensation tingled across my scalp.

  “Are you… brushing my hair?”

  “It’s a mess,” the girl said matter-of-factly. “I know I always feel more confident when I know my hair looks all right.” After sweeping the brush through my tail several times, she tugged out the elastic holding my hair in place and brushed it from the top down. When she was satisfied with her work, she fastened the elastic again.

  “There,” she said, scrutinizing my hair as she moved back in position to face me. “That’s better.” She jerked her head to the side and started walking toward the door. I took my cue to follow her.

  I scanned the hallway as we walked. There were no guards lining the walls, but I also didn’t see any obvious exits.

  “I’m Clio, by the way,” the girl said as we turned a corner to the right.

  “Eden.”

  I couldn’t tell what Clio’s angle was. They could have sent anyone to retrieve me. Had they chosen a girl because I might see her as less threatening? Maybe they had instructed her to be kind so I would trust her. If so, they were fools. I knew better than to trust an angel.

  Clio led me halfway up the hall before indicating a door on the left. “She’s in there. Don’t worry—this is all just logistical stuff. It shouldn’t take long.” She paused, her nose scrunching.

  I attempted to keep my expression neutral. I had no idea what kind of “logistical stuff” she was referring to, but I also didn’t want to ask.

  “You’ll be fine,” Clio insisted. “And… I’ll see you again soon.”

  With a final smile, she continued up the hall. Not once did she look back to check if I was following directions.

  My heart picked up its cadence. There were no guards in this corridor either. It might take me a few minutes to find my way out of here, but I was sure I could do it.

  Except that wasn’t the mission. I needed to do exactly what they expected of me if I wanted to convince the headmaster—and everyone else—that I was the Keeper they thought I was.

  I knocked twice on the door before twisting the knob and pushing it open. Headmaster Kemp looked up as I entered the room. She stood from her place behind the heavy wooden desk. I wasn’t sure whose office this was, but the person who worked here must be very important—or at least have a high opinion of himself. Bookshelves filled with thick, heavy tomes lined the back wall. I scanned the names, wondering if any here were duplicates to the ones in the library above the bunker.

  The headmaster gestured to the chair across from her, drawing my attention from the books. Her gaze was shrewd but warm as she surveyed me. “I’m sure you’re eager to get home after waiting in line so long, so I’ll make this brief.”

  I slipped into the chair she had indicated resumed her own seat. “What happens now?”

  She tapped the manila envelope before her and slid it across the polished desktop. “We have some paperwork for you to fill out. Now, most of that you can go over once you get home, but I’ll need you to sign the top sheet before you leave.”

  I picked up the folder and opened it. Inside were no less than two dozen leaves of paper, but I only concerned myself with the one she me
ntioned. “What is this?”

  “A non-disclosure agreement of sorts,” the headmaster said, the nonchalance in her tone sounding oddly forced. “As I’m sure you can imagine, there are those who oppose the Keepers and what they stand for. To mitigate any harm that might come from misguided attempts to stop the Keepers from fulfilling their destinies, we have determined the best course of action is to keep Keepers’ families entirely out of the media.” Her mouth worked for a moment like she was chewing on her words. “Whenever possible, that is. But in your case, you will agree to keep the identities of your family as a secret. Keeping them out of the public eye will keep them safe.”

  I studied her face, wondering if this was some kind of test. If she was serious, infiltrating the angelic government would be easier than I could have dreamed. Keeping my family a secret helped me more than she could ever know.

  “I’m sure my family will understand,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

  “That goes for your lineage, too,” she continued. “Only those of us who were on stage when the Blade flashed red know you’re fallen. It’s best if we keep it that way.”

  “Fallen?” The word slipped from my lips before I could stop it.

  She held up her hands as if shielding herself against an attack. “I’m sorry if that comes as a surprise. I assume your parents had a reason to keep that information from you. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen that happen. But we’ve found it’s best to not make a big deal out of a Keeper’s lineage.” She offered a tight-lipped smile.

  I still couldn’t wrap my mind around what she was saying. Fallen? These people thought my heritage was angelic? If that was what they wanted to believe, I wouldn’t disagree.

  Headmaster Kemp picked a pen up off the desk and held it out for me to take. I relieved her of it and brought the tip down to the paper. I hesitated only briefly before scrawling out Eden Jensen. It wasn’t even a lie—not really. Jensen was my middle name. I was simply leaving off the last part.

  I pulled the sheet off the stack and slid it back across the desk to the headmaster, who smiled with relief.

  “Now, you can fill the rest of those forms out at home. A car will be here tomorrow at seven p.m. to pick you up. If you have questions between now and then, you can call me. My number is on the top of that first page.”

  “Wait—pick me up?” I glanced down at the papers as if they held the answers. “Where are you going to take me?”

  She smiled again. “To Blakethorne Academy, of course. There, you’ll join the other Keepers and begin your training.”

  My stomach twisted and bile rose in the back of my throat. Blakethorne Academy was where the next generation of angelic guards trained. I couldn’t step foot there. “I can’t,” I blurted.

  Her brow knit as she surveyed me. “What do you mean?”

  “I… Um…” My brain sputtered for a logical reason. “My family… We don’t have that kind of money.”

  Headmaster Kemp held her hands up reassuringly. “You don’t need to worry about that. Tuition is waived for Blade Keepers.”

  Instead of calming me, her words threatened to make me hyperventilate. “But… I… I help out a lot at home.”

  Although her smile was warm, the expression didn’t entirely disguise the tightness around her eyes. “I understand your concerns. But surely you considered the possibility of leaving your family behind when you chose to come to the trials.”

  I opened my mouth, ready to insist I hadn’t chosen any of this, but I stopped short. If I told her I hadn’t actually considered being a Keeper, she’d want to know why I was here in the first place. I couldn’t very well tell her the truth. Instead, I forced a return grin. “Of course. I’m sorry. This is just all happening so fast.”

  She nodded understandingly. “I’m sure it is. But, rest assured, Blakethorne is where you’re supposed to be.”

  The headmaster stood, and I took it as my cue for dismissal. As I walked toward the door, my mind spun. Whatever I had been imagining would happen to me, this wasn’t it. Blakethorne Academy was where the next generation of angelic guards trained.

  When Liza suggested I go along with this whole Keeper thing, I assumed I’d be doing it from the comfort of my own home. But how long could I uphold the charade if angels surrounded me all day, every day? Eventually, someone would figure out I wasn’t who they thought I was—and I couldn’t begin to imagine the consequences that would arise from the lie.

  Chapter Twelve

  My head was still spinning by the time I made my way back to the library. It took a solid half hour longer than it should have because I walked a convoluted route home—just in case someone was following me. Although Headmaster Kemp had assured me that they hadn’t informed anyone that the Aether Blade selected its Keeper and the media wouldn’t be looking for me, I wasn’t sure I could trust the word of an angel.

  As I descended the hidden staircase into the bunker, I tried to wipe the fear from my face. Although Liza saw this whole misunderstanding as a potential boon for us and the people we served, the situation terrified me.

  But I didn’t want her to know that.

  Liza barely glanced up from the table when I stepped into the room. “I was wondering when you’d be home.” She hitched her thumb toward the television screen on the wall behind her. “Maybe half an hour ago, the chancellor was on the news announcing that they found the new Keeper. The press was none too happy when he said he wouldn’t be presenting her today.” She sucked her teeth, glancing up from the open book in front of her. “Believe it or not, that library is thin on books about Keeper history.” Tipping her head to the side, she squinted at my face. “What’s wrong?”

  I shifted on the balls of my feet, my stomach twisting. I hated how easily Liza could see through me, but she’d always been able to—despite my best efforts to hide what I was feeling. “They want to take me to Blakethorne Academy. Apparently that’s where the other Keepers are training.”

  I expected shock or surprise to cross my aunt’s face, but she merely nodded. “Kingston mentioned something about that. Honestly, I could kick myself for not paying more attention to what it is, exactly, that the Keepers do before now…”

  I surged forward, dropping the file of paperwork onto the table as I collapsed onto my chair. “You seriously don’t see a problem with me going away to some angel school?”

  For the first time since I entered, she turned her full attention on me. “That sounds a lot like fear.”

  “You think?” I scrubbed my hands down my face. “They’re going to figure out who I am. What I am.”

  She held my gaze with her chestnut-brown eyes. “They’ll only figure it out if you let them. Don’t give them the opportunity.”

  I dropped my chin to my chest. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  Liza chuckled. “You sound just like your mom.”

  I sucked in a breath. Liza rarely spoke of my mother. When I first came to live with her, she would tell me stories from their childhood when she put me to bed, but as I grew, those anecdotes became fewer and farther between. Marco explained that it hurt Liza too much to talk about her sister, but what she didn’t realize was that it hurt me not to talk about her. “You mean she didn’t want to get shipped off to some guard-training angel school either?” I tried to keep my tone light, fearing that pressing too hard might make Liza clam up.

  For a long moment, she was quiet. My heart sank with each passing second. Then Liza released a deep sigh. “No. No angel schools for her. But after your dad died of Languo—after she fought and fought to get him the treatments that angels seemed to have no problem getting—she wanted to make it so that no one else lost someone they loved when there was no reason to. But when she looked at the task ahead, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.”

  I leaned into the story. “What did she do?”

  “She didn’t quit,” Liza said. “She showed up every day. And it was hard, and there were plenty of people out there trying to
make sure she failed. But she knew that sometimes the only way out of a situation is through it, and she was willing to go through it to make a better future for you.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder what she’d think if she knew we haven’t made it through yet.”

  The sadness in my aunt’s voice cut me. “But you’re still fighting.”

  Liza spread her arms to encompass the bunker. “This? Nah. We’re just slapping a bandage on the problem. I tried my hand at changing the world once and what did it get me? Infamy and a dead sister.” She dropped her arms to her sides. “I know it frustrates Derek. He wants to do more—even though I don’t think he knows what more is. Maybe it’s this chance. Maybe it’s you.”

  My stomach clenched. Did Liza really think the future was riding on me? That was too big a task for one person alone. Who was I? How could I possibly make our world better? I scanned the room, searching for anything that might get the focus off me. “Where is Derek?”

  Before she could even speak, Liza’s disappointed expression relayed the answer. “He’s out with Canaan.”

  My nose wrinkled at the scent associated with that name. Canaan Boyd always smelled vaguely like the shekar he fermented in his bathtub. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him walk a straight line because he engaged in frequent “quality control” checks of the alcohol. Having sampled the end product, I could vouch that his constant imbibing did nothing to improve the flavor. “I don’t know why you let Derek hang out with him.”

  “Let him?” Liza scoffed. “I’m not Derek’s guardian. Besides, he’s twenty. Old enough to make his own choices about who to hang around with. As long as he doesn’t bring Canaan to the library, I don’t care if he spends time with him.” Her eyes strayed to the file on the table. “What’s this?”

  “Paperwork that needs to be filled out. They’ll have a car in front of City Hall at seven tomorrow night.”

  She pulled the folder across the table and flipped it open to scan the first document in the pile. “Name. Ooh. I’m betting Eden Everdell won’t work here.”