I tried to smile, but my muscles didn’t respond. Instead, I glanced around, my throat going dry when I glimpsed the Aether Blade settled atop a pedestal in the center of the field.
“Hey. Hey.”
When it finally registered that Nate was talking to me, I wondered just how many times he’d spoken before I heard him. “Yeah?”
“You’ve got this. Don’t get yourself worked up.”
I didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m not. I’m fine.”
He pressed the tip of his finger between my eyebrows. “That line says otherwise.”
I nudged his hand out of the way and rubbed the spot myself, hating the way warmth flooded the skin where he touched it. “Do you know what the plan is?”
He shook his head. “They’ve been tight-lipped. I think they’re waiting for both of you to get here.”
I looked around again. Thor, Bridger, and Clio still lingered where Nate had left them. Professor Danson and Headmaster Kemp stood a few yards from the Aether Blade. But neither Shonda nor Lydia were anywhere in sight.
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
Nate’s eyes were still fixed on me, and the weight of his gaze made me shiver. “Yeah, I slept a little.”
“That’s good.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “I didn’t.”
Surprise zipped up my spine like an electric current. “Why? Shonda’s not after you.”
“No, she’s after you, and you’re a member of my team. I’m sorry you have to deal with all this. I don’t know why she’s so fixated on you.”
Maybe because she’s supposed to be the Keeper and I’m not? I bit my lower lip to keep the errant thought to myself. I should have known all along that my time at Blakethorne would be short-lived. It was only ever a matter of time before someone pointed out the obvious: I didn’t belong here.
It wasn’t fair to Nate that he’d been up all night worrying about me. Shonda was the rightful member of his team.
“Hey,” Nate said. “It’s all going to work out.”
I cringed. That was easy for him to say. There was no scenario that ended with him being shipped off to the pit today, but it was a very real possibility for me. If any part of this challenge involved me touching that Blade again, it would be game over.
“Ah, there you are,” Headmaster Kemp called across the field as two figures cleared the trees. While Lydia’s features twisted with the concern of someone not wanting to be late to an important meeting, Shonda’s pace was unhurried, even leisurely. Although Lydia’s speed picked up every few steps, she slowed down again almost immediately to keep beside Shonda.
This was all a show to her. Somehow, she knew she had a connection to the Aether Blade. Yesterday, the headmaster made it sound like Shonda had gone to her with this claim, only for Kemp to rebuff her. Now, she was making the headmaster pay for her doubt. We were playing Shonda’s game now, and she wanted us all to know it.
I focused my attention on Kemp as Shonda approached. But even with my gaze trained forward, I could feel Shonda’s eyes on me as she sauntered into place.
The other Keepers came to join Nate and me as the headmaster stepped away from the Aether Blade’s pedestal.
“Thank you all for joining us here so early this morning,” she said—as if any of us had a choice in our attendance. “We’re facing a unique situation at the moment, and I think it’s best that we confront it head-on so we can all move forward confidently.”
“More like she doesn’t want to face the wrath of General Hailwood,” Bridger muttered.
“Is there something you’d like to say, Cadet Ross?” the headmaster asked sharply.
Bridger straightened his back. “No, ma’am.”
She glared for a moment longer before her expression softened. “Miss Sweeting worked with perseverance and determination into the early morning hours to determine the most accurate way to undertake this challenge. As we all know, the Eternity Blades choose their Keepers—not the other way around. Challenges for a Blade’s loyalty are rare, but since there has been one case—that we know of—it also isn’t something we can dismiss. Now, Miss Sweeting, if you’d be so kind as to explain the rules for today’s proceedings.”
My heart hammered against my ribs as Lydia moved into the space the headmaster vacated. Kemp had said nothing about what would happen when this test was over, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. The only reason I was at Blakethorne was because they believed me to be a Keeper. Once that farce was revealed, there would be no reason for me to remain. And while I tried to convince myself that there was still good I could accomplish working with Liza and Marco, leaving here would mean more than missing out on chances to overhear crucial information—like the raid on the clinic. Once I stepped foot off the academy’s grounds, I would never see the Keepers again. I’d never be on the receiving end of one of Clio’s warm smiles, or endure one of Bridger’s lame jokes. I’d never experience an unexpected bout of kindness from Thor. And never again would I look into Nate’s endlessly deep brown eyes.
If we ever crossed paths again, we would be on opposing teams. They would be members of the Guard, and I would only ever—could only ever—be a demon.
Lydia offered a tight-lipped smile as she surveyed us. Without the fog of sleep warping my perceptions, I saw the dark circles under her eyes. I wondered if she’d gotten any rest at all, or whether she’d spent the entire night scouring books to cobble together details from one battle generations ago. “As the headmaster said, a challenge like this comes down to the Blade’s loyalty. But since there is but one Blade and two of you, we had to determine a way to test that allegiance.” She nodded at Professor Danson, who slipped behind the pedestal and picked up two slim swords from out of a velvet-lined box. They each flared with a golden glow as he carried them toward the librarian.
Nate inhaled sharply. “Are those relics?”
Lydia nodded. “I tried a variety of weapons, but only angel-fire relics would hold a thaumaturgic charge.”
“Those aren’t training weapons,” Clio said. “They can do real damage.”
“I’m aware,” Headmaster Kemp said, holding up a hand to quiet any more arguments. “But we have determined the overall risk to be low. The goal of this match—like the goal of all the sparring matches yesterday—is to overcome your opponent without hurting them. This isn’t a fight to the death.”
I gulped. I hadn’t even considered it might be until she said that.
“And in case someone gets overzealous, we’ve come prepared,” Professor Danson said, glancing down at the stunner strapped to his hip.
Lydia forced another smile. “Any questions?”
Several spun through my head, from what kind of damage these relics could do to whether they’d let me say goodbyes before throwing me off campus grounds, but I couldn’t make my mouth form any words.
“What constitutes a win?” Shonda asked. “You mentioned yesterday’s sparring match. Are we going for a simple knock-down? Or does the loser need to be incapacitated?”
Her gentle inflection on the word loser made it clear she didn’t expect to wind up in that category.
Headmaster Kemp’s lips twitched. “It’s unnecessary to incapacitate anyone. You’ll fight in the ring at the center of the field, like yesterday. The Aether Blade will remain here. We brought it down from the reliquary because we believe that once the winner has bested her opponent, the Aether Blade will show its loyalty to that winner.”
“Why not just have the two of them take turns holding the Blade now?” Nate asked. “Why force them to fight first?”
“We considered that,” Lydia said. “But, based on the accounts I could dig up, that won’t work. The Blade already chose Cadet Jensen, so it won’t respond to anyone else. Cadet Hailwood wouldn’t have a fair shot at its loyalty.” She turned to Professor Danson. “Ready?”
Nodding he held one of the swords out to her. As her fingers closed around the grip, the blade’s glow switched from gold to silver.
His brow scrunched. “Miss Sweeting isn’t a Warrior, she’s a Messenger. Most angel-fire relics change color like that based on a person’s lineage.”
My stomach dropped. What would happen when I touched the weapon? The Aether Blade had glowed fallen-angel-red the first time I touched it, but only because I’d been so focused on my intention of being able to get out of the situation unharmed. I had no idea if other relics responded similarly to a person’s mental state.
Lydia and Professor Danson approached the pedestal and brought down the tips of their relics to the surface of the Blade. The gold and silver glows faded, replaced by the pearlescent shimmer I recognized from the trials.
“The transfer is complete,” Kemp said. “Cadets, collect your weapons and we’ll begin.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Nate’s warm hand splayed across the small of my back. “Eden. It’s time.”
“You got this,” Clio said brightly, offering me two thumbs up.
My legs felt wooden as I lumbered forward. How did I end up here? All I’d wanted to do was save my uncle, and somehow that landed me at the Guard training academy. No one ever so much as asked if I even wanted to be here. Not only did Headmaster Kemp treat my entrance into Blakethorne as a foregone conclusion, my own aunt had never given me the chance to choose for myself.
Maybe today I could start anew. From here on out, I didn’t have to do what someone else expected. I could make my own choices.
Provided I got out of here without everyone learning I was a demon.
Shonda’s leisurely pace from earlier vanished as she strode to Professor Danson’s side. As her fingers curled around the weapon’s grip, I waited for the golden glow to return. But even after the professor removed her hand from the hilt, there was no change in the relic’s shimmering white light.
Relief swelled within me, loosening my joints. There was still a chance I could walk out of this without anyone figuring out my lineage. If that was the only win to come out of today, I would take it.
Lydia smiled encouragingly as I took the sword from her hand. My heart skipped, but the blade’s glimmer didn’t flicker.
“Please make your way to the center ring,” Headmaster Kemp said.
Footsteps thudded against the ground as the Keepers followed.
“Observers will stay back,” Kemp said firmly. “Miss Sweeting, please show the Keepers where they’re to wait.”
Nate caught my eye, and the corner of his mouth quirked apologetically. An ache built in my chest. He and the other Keepers had accepted me into their ranks without question. Even now, they were here to support me—a stranger—and not the girl who they had known for years.
I shook off the twinge as I followed Shonda toward the ring the headmaster indicated. They were loyal to the office of Keeper, not to me. By this time tomorrow, it would be Shonda at their side, and I would be well on my way to the realms of distant memories.
I called up Marco’s advice from last night. Assess the situation and adapt. Although my performance against Shonda did little to convince me I might have a chance against her, at least I had a little training with a sword. Maybe I could surprise her with a slightly better showing and gain the upper hand. And then…
And then what? Whoever came out on top needed to prove that the Aether Blade’s allegiance belonged to her. And since I’d technically never earned that loyalty to begin with, touching the sword again was tempting fate.
There was only one way this fight could end. I just had to make my side of things look good.
A wicked smirk curled Shonda’s lips as we took our places in the ring. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
“So, that’s your thing? Hurting people? That’s what drives you?”
She sneered. “Only when they deserve it.”
I adjusted my grip on the sword in my hand. “And why do I deserve it?”
She cocked her head to the side as if baffled by the question. “You took what’s mine. And I don’t respond well when people take things that belong to me.”
I shivered at the ice in her voice, but before I could respond, Headmaster Kemp called, “Ready?”
She stood halfway between our circle and the nearest bank of bleachers. Sweeting, Danson, and the Keepers filled in a line beside her. Clio’s expression was tight with apprehension. Thor’s face was unreadable. Bridger’s pale complexion made me wonder if he might be sick. When my eyes landed on Nate, he nodded with grim determination.
Maybe one day they could forgive me for making them care about a demon.
“Begin!”
The word was barely out of Kemp’s mouth when Shonda attacked. I barely jumped out of the way of her blade as she slashed it through the air. I brought up my sword to block her next blow, and the clang of metal-on-metal shot through my bones.
In the days since my arrival, I’d spent hours practicing sword-fighting techniques in the ring with Bridger. But this was nothing like any of those matches. I’d been thinking Bridger was going all out against me, but based on Shonda’s ferocity, he’d been holding back considerably.
Muscle memory kicked in, allowing me to block and avoid Shonda’s blows. But I had no idea how long I could keep it up.
I raised the sword above my head to block to downward strike, and Shonda took advantage of my unprotected body and kicked me in the stomach.
I doubled over, fighting to pull in a breath. When she swung again, I wasn’t fast enough and her blade sliced into the skin of my upper arm. Pain rocketed through my system as she swung again, narrowly missing me as I threw myself sideways.
I’d been hit in training before, but those human-forged weapons hadn’t done more than leave bruises. As a trickle of warm blood cut a path down my arm, red filled my vision. This wasn’t like fighting Bridger. Shonda wanted to hurt me.
Flames surged beneath my skin as rage churned in my stomach. I needed to fight back. I needed to put her in her place. Angels thought they could take whatever they wanted, and they didn’t care who they had to hurt to get it. Giving myself over to the anger would give me power. Then I could show her exactly who she was dealing with.
Shonda’s blade sliced my skin again, this time on the other arm. I could end this here and now. She wouldn’t expect the surge of strength that came with allowing the fire inside to take control.
Marco’s words from last night came back to me—words I’d heard countless times over the course of my life. We always find a way.
Allowing the darkness to take over wasn’t it. Shonda wasn’t worth giving in to something I’d fought my whole life. Sucking in a breath, I forced the red back.
I sprang to my right to avoid Shonda’s next swing, and when I struck out, the tip of my blade slashed along the back of her thigh.
“You’ll pay for that!” she screeched, rounding on me.
Her next blows came hard and fast, and I tripped as I stumbled backward. The air rushed from my lungs as I landed back-first onto the ground. She brought her sword down in a chopping motion, and I only just managed to roll out of the way. I aimed a kick at her, but she twisted at the last second.
“Stay down,” she hissed.
But my feet were already under me. Gasping to suck in a breath of air, I pushed myself up on unsteady legs.
She struck out too quickly for me to react. Pain tore through me as she plunged her blade into my thigh, and I dropped back to the ground.
“Stay down.”
My leg throbbed in time with my pounding heart. Releasing the sword, I pressed my hand against the wound. Warm blood oozed against my palm and between my fingers.
“Why?” I cried. “Why are you doing this? Why are you so convinced the Blade is supposed to be yours?”
“Because I want it,” she snapped. “I deserve it. And now I’m going to take it.”
Giving an exaggerated pout, she spun on her heel and strode out of the ring. The Aether Blade sat on its pedestal ten yard
s away, but she seemed in no hurry to reach it. Raising her arm, she waved at the spectators.
She wanted it? That’s what this was all about? I knew angels were selfish, but this was next level. All this time, I believed she had a legitimate claim on the Blade and that I was robbing her of something that should rightfully be hers. Except her quest was vanity.
What would she do with the status that came with being a Keeper that she couldn’t already accomplish? If the welcoming banquet was any indication, she had plenty of connections to senators. Her mother was a general in the Guard, so she no doubt had ins there, too.
Shonda wanted the mantle to satisfy her ego. But in less than a week, I’d saved lives—not just of Doc and her current patients, but of countless patients in the future.
Over the rush of blood in my ears, other sounds came into focus. What was first just a jumble of noise separated into distinct voices.
“It’s not over!” Clio shouted.
“Come on, Eden!” called Bridger.
Thor chanted, “Get up!”
But when I met Nate’s eyes, it was as if everything else faded away. “You can do this, Eden. I believe in you.”
Ignoring the pulsing pain in my thigh, I pressed myself to my feet. For as long as I could remember, the adults in my life repeated the same mantra. We always find a way. Meeting in back alleys to hand off life-saving medicine, breaking into buildings to steal medical supplies. We helped people, but it was never enough. It could never be enough. But being here, surrounded by angels and accepted as one of them—celebrated, even—gave me the potential to help my people on a scale I never could have imagined.
I had found my way, and I wasn’t about to give it up without a fight.
I limped as fast as my injured leg would carry me, disregarding the agony ripping through me and threatening to turn my stomach. Shonda was already halfway to her goal, but I was gaining on her. As the Keepers’ shouts of encouragement changed to whoops of celebration, Shonda waved all the more, accepting the praise that wasn’t meant for her.
Traces of Sulfur Page 19
