by Kate Hall
I test my weight on my once bad foot again. When I was twelve, I broke my ankle, and it’s never been the same since my parents couldn’t afford to take me to the hospital. After years of constant pain, it’s like I’ve been given a whole new foot. I didn’t realize how much it used to hurt until the pain just…stopped. Because of that alone, my whole body is a million times lighter.
I sigh and open the door. There are a few others in the hall, and I follow them down the same spiral staircase from earlier. I still get a few glances, but less than when I walked into the cafeteria with my white gown on. At least now I match everyone else.
“Avery,” a familiar voice says. Gabe’s arm loops through mine. “It’s good to see you again! How are you adjusting to Theaa Academy?” He’s smiling once again. Or is it still? How much does he smile?
I smile back warily. “It’s…a lot,” I admit. At least he seems friendly.
He nods. “Yeah, it was for me, too when I first showed up.” He pauses and looks at me. “What brought you here? For me it was cancer.”
My eyes widen. “I’m so sorry,” I say. What else is there to say?
He laughs. “It’s alright. We end up talking about that sort of thing a lot around here. It can be hard to remember pieces of your old life, and even harder to find something in common. Cause of death is an easy one.”
Holy crap, that’s morbid for Heaven.
Although, we are dead. It makes sense that death would be brought up.
I open my mouth, close it again, then finally say, “I was in a car accident. Drove off a ravine.”
This time, he’s the one who looks shocked. “Wow. That’s wild. Most people are pretty standard.” He taps on a girl’s shoulder, and she glances back at us. It’s the girl with the strawberry blonde hair that had waved at me earlier. “Huỳnh here had a stroke.” He pronounces her name like “Win,” but breathier and sort of monotone, and I commit it to memory.
I gasp. “But you’re so young!”
She laughs. “Everyone looks young here. I was eighty-five when I died.”
So that explains one thing—why everyone here is a teenager—but nothing else. Like the reason that there is a school in Heaven. It doesn’t make any sense. I nod at her like I understand.
Gabe points a finger at me enthusiastically. “Gruesome car wreck!”
Huỳnh nods, but she doesn’t seem as excited as Gabe. “He’s always like this,” she says. “Can’t put him in a bad mood.”
He laughs. “Why would I be? I’m seventeen, I’m in freaking Heaven, and I get unlimited food. With only one minor downside, what is there to be unhappy about?”
Huỳnh rolls her eyes. “Do you want to sit with us in the mess?” she asks, her eyes trained back on me every few seconds as she watches her path down the stairs. I look between them, then nod.
Just as I’m about to ask about the downside that Gabe mentioned, we walk into the grand mess hall from earlier and take our seats. Huỳnh places a finger over her lips and points at the front of the room just as I’m about to open my mouth to ask my question. Okay, then.
Azrael is at the podium, her wings spread high in an elegant arc behind her. “Welcome to a new term at Theaa Academy,” she says. Her voice is conversational, like she’s just talking to me, but it carries throughout the entire hall somehow. That’s a neat trick. “We are pleased to welcome several new students, and we hope that you will all find your place in our esteemed program. Now, I’m not one for speeches, so thank you for your brief attention, and enjoy your meal.”
As food appears in front of me, I look around. There are a few others at my table with the same confused expression I must be sporting. At least I’m not the only one.
“It’s an interesting coincidence that I…” I don’t want to use the word “died,” so I say, “showed up at the beginning of term.”
Huỳnh looks up from her plate, some sort of noodle meal with what appears to be chicken on top and a yellow sauce, chopped green ovens over it all. “It’s not. Time isn’t linear, so all new students arrive at the beginning of a new term. There are usually about fifty new people, and then the rest of us.”
“Oh,” I say, looking down at my plate, and my mouth instantly waters. It’s baked parmesan, and I lean over and breathe in. Sure enough, the fried bit on top is not chicken, but Pacific salmon. My favorite. “How do they do all this?”
Gabe shrugs. “Nobody really knows, but who cares?” He bites into a spring roll, and I smile before diving into my own meal.
I could get used to this place. After eating, we head back upstairs, and students spread out to the nearest doorways, each whispering a number and walking in, one after the other. The further the hall goes, the fewer students, but every door appears capable of this incredible feat. I smile at the little bit of magic.
Gabe stands at the door next to mine, and I catch him before he enters. “What are we supposed to do all night?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Whatever you want. Sleep, watch movies, learn about the secrets of the universe…It’s pretty much free time until class starts in the morning.”
I nod. “And what are—” I try to ask, but he’s gone.
I frown before entering my room. There’s not much to do but sleep, so I open the dresser to find my favorite pair of pajamas, except they’re in pristine condition, just like the rest of the room. When I frown at their too-new shape, though, they begin to look just a bit more worn. Not as bad as the ones back home, but more familiar.
Much better.
When I collapse into my perfectly comfortable bed, I fall into an immediate, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Five
The same gentle bell alarm as yesterday wakes me. I’m almost convinced it was all a dream, but when I glance out the window, I’m greeted by the breathtaking sight of the mountain that the school sits atop. Will I ever get used to this view?
I don’t have to stretch after waking up—I’m not even drowsy. I was asleep, and now I’m not. There doesn’t seem to be an in-between. It’s almost like I just laid down. My navy uniform is gone from the floor, and when I open my closet, it’s hanging up. Instead of the ugly uniform loafers that I wore last night, though, there are a pair of black boots. I smile. Much more my style.
As I’m leaving my room, Huỳnh is coming out of hers across the hall.
“Hey, what’s your room number?” she asks as we fall into step together. “I thought about inviting you for a book club last night, but I didn’t know your number to tell the door.”
A book club? In the middle of the night? I recall what Gabe said about night being free time. “Two twenty-three,” I say. Spending time with other students could be good for me. I feel super out of place.
“We’re reading Jane Austen. She wrote something new and wanted us to read it.” I gape. Again. I have to keep my jaw shut, or I’ll begin to look like I don’t actually know how to close my mouth.
“That sounds fun,” I manage. Trying way to hard to be casual, I ask, “Is she, um, a student here?”
Huỳnh laughs, and I look at the ground. “No, but I met her at a book shop recently and we got to talking.”
Book shops in Heaven? I would love to see one.
We make our way downstairs, and I’m caught on the arm by Azrael. “I’m in a hurry,” she says slowly, “but I wanted to give you your schedule. Huỳnh here can show you to your first class.”
I look between them. “That won’t make her late?”
Huỳnh smiles. “Remember, Avery, time isn’t real.”
“Right,” I say, scrunching my eyebrows. I wonder what exactly the extent of that is. How does it work? And why do we have the night off if time doesn’t exist? Why are there schedules?
“Kidding,” Huỳnh says after watching my mind’s gears grind to a stiff halt. “We’re just up early. It won’t be a problem.” She takes my paper schedule, which is a heavy parchment and smooth as silk.
After she hands it back, I scroll through the classes. H
istory of Heaven and Earth. Enochian. Fencing. General Martial Arts. Demonic Symbols. Intro to Flying.
I’m so enraptured by “Intro to Flying” that I have to go back over the schedule. When my mind catches up with me, the next to last course finally absorbs into my brain.
Demonic Symbols.
“What is this class for?” I ask, my throat tightening. My lungs suddenly don’t work. Why would we need to know anything about demons in Heaven? The answer lingers in the depths of my mind, but I can’t be the one to say it.
Huỳnh glances at where I’m pointing. She tilts her head, and her eyebrows are upturned. “Demonic Symbols? It’s mostly summoning spells and exorcism rituals. You won’t need to get into the really intense stuff until your second term.”
Summoning? Exorcising?
I force the breath out of my lungs slowly. “Huỳnh,” I say slowly, “Why exactly is there a school in Heaven?”
Chapter Six
Huỳnh’s mouth pops open at the question. “Oh no. Nobody told you.” She suddenly looks worried, and she wraps her arms around herself. The light from her pearlescent wings dims just a little.
“Told me what?” I breathe. I fear that I don’t actually want to know the answer to that question, but I know I’m going to get it.
She looks around, then rests a hand on my shoulder. “Avery, Theaa Academy is where angels are trained to kill demons.”
All the air is sucked out of the room, and my vision narrows until Huỳnh’s freckled face is all I can see.
Am I dying?
Again?
“Avery, breathe,” Huỳnh says. “I mean, you don’t need to, but you should.”
I follow her instructions and suck in a shuddering breath. Then, after letting it out, another. It brings no relief, though.
“Focus on the timing. Five seconds in, five seconds out.”
I do the count, then again, then again. When I’m finally calm enough to gather my thoughts, I come to the realization that we’re standing in the center of a hallway, and several students—some with wings, some without—have to dodge around us.
Huỳnh pulls me to the side and sits me on a bench. I let her maneuver me, as there’s not much I can do for myself right now. I stare at the floor, focusing on her shoes. They’re old-fashioned, a pair of high-heeled shoes with pointed toes.
“Cute shoes,” I breathe, my words strained.
“Avery,” she says, rubbing a hand on my back, “you weren’t supposed to find this out today. Did you get a letter last night?”
I shake my head, then pause. “I don’t know. I fell asleep pretty quick.”
When I look up at her, she’s nodding. “That explains it. You’re supposed to get a detailed explanation your first night, but you must have missed it.”
She takes my hand in hers. “It’s gonna be okay,” she says. “It’s not so bad, and there are so many more ups to Heaven than that one negative. And, if you think about it, we’re protecting both Heaven and Earth by doing this. It’s kind of amazing.”
I nod, but it’s hard for me to see what’s good about this. I’m going to encounter demons? I’ll have to fight? Demons?
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I say honestly. I’ve never had my own responsibilities, and I’ve never been much of a fighter, unless you count the one time I punched a guy in the face for harassing my friend. My…teammate? The word isn’t quite right. The face of the person I was defending doesn’t follow the rest of the memory. When I try to latch onto it, it slips away. Oh, well. It must not matter that much.
“Hey,” another voice says. How long has Gabe been standing there? “It’s gonna be fine. We were just as freaked out as you when we showed up. You’re gonna be alright.”
I shut my eyes tight and nod. After a few more seconds of Huỳnh’s breathing exercise, I open them.
“Okay,” I say. “But I need to get something out of my room.”
Before they can ask anything, I stand up, smiling unsteadily. As soon as I turn the corner, I run.
Chapter Seven
I run back the way we came, to the mess hall doors and the spiral staircase. I spot another doorway across the hall, and I sprint through it. There, I end up back in the hospital ward. There’s nothing on the other side, but I check the windows. There’s got to be a staircase or something down the mountain, right? Or maybe a way to get to God? The Creator? Whatever? I have to let someone know that they’ve made a big mistake. I’m absolutely not demon-fighting material.
I spin around and go back, all the way through the mess and up the spiral staircase. Maybe I can get out through my room?
I slam the door behind me and sink to the floor, holding my head in my hands. Demons. Actual demons. They’re real, and I am going to have to fight them.
What am I supposed to do?
I grit my teeth to keep all this emotion inside, but a sob bursts out anyway.
I can’t do this.
I absolutely cannot do this.
After a while, I rest my head against the door. I should have tears streaming down my cheeks, but my eyes aren’t even foggy.
A soft knock sounds at my door.
“Avery, come on,” Gabe says. “We’ve gotta get to class.”
I grit my teeth and stare at the clouds going past my window. The sky is golden just like yesterday, and I can just see a crescent moon and stars in the lavender distance.
I sigh.
I have to do this. If I’m not cut out for this, why would I have been put here? There must be a reason I got into Heaven and she—whoever she was—didn’t.
I stand and open the door.
Gabe and Huỳnh are standing there, and their eyes are filled with concern.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Huỳnh says softly. “I promise.”
I nod, but my jaw is still tight.
Gabe looks away from my eyes after a moment. “We should probably get going. Class is starting soon.”
I sigh and step out, closing my door behind me.
“Let’s do this.”
Chapter Eight
As it turns out, Theaa Academy classes are no more exciting than those at Brookstown High School, despite the golden filigree and marble walls. It may look fancier, but, in the end, it’s still a class full of teenagers. Sort of.
My mind swirls with confusing symbols from both my Enochian and Demonic Symbols classes, and Intro to Flying is all anatomy and lecture. Not nearly as exciting as expected.
At least fencing, my first class of the day, wasn’t too bad. We hadn’t been given weapons, but we were given uniforms and taught stances. It’s better than a normal gym class, and my new life as an angelic protector means that I apparently don’t get worn out. Martial Arts is much the same, and I hope that I don’t get the stances mixed up when we do them all over again.
Gabe and Huỳnh aren’t in any of my classes, but I am partnered with Nicolai, a blonde boy with a serious face and tousled ice-white hair in Fencing. He seems nice enough, if a little quiet.
“Cause of death?” I say on day two in an attempt to make casual conversation.
He seems surprised for a moment, then smirks. “Drowing.”
I grimace. “Sounds miserable. Car went off a cliff,” I say.
“Impressive,” he says, moving into the second position at Gabriel’s instruction. I’d expected a muscular man in flowing white robes with long blonde hair, but instead, Gabriel is short and narrow, every part of him dark, from his fencing uniform to his skin to his eyes. Even his hair is a darker shade of brown, the darkest I’ve seen besides Azrael.
“Avery, shoulders straight,” he says in passing.
When I get out of my final class on day two, Huỳnh is waiting for me in the mess.
“How do you like it now?” she asks, patting the seat next to her.
I sit down and haul a giant book onto the table. “I already have homework in Demonic Symbols. Nobody told me that Heaven included homework.”
She laughs. “Tell me ab
out it. I haven’t had homework in decades, but now I have two essays due in as many weeks.”
I nod. “Must be rough.”
She shrugs noncommittally. “We were called to a higher purpose. I try to honor that by doing my best.”
Did I make friends with the most devout person in the world? Or is she just trying to keep me on the right track?
I sigh and open my book, and she helps me interpret some of the more complex symbols. I have to copy down a sentence in the Demonic language, and then translate it into English.
“I have a question,” I say, pulling my head out of the homework for a short break.
Huỳnh looks up from her own assignment, an essay about Hellish Politics. Terrifying to think about, yet somehow still boring in practice.
“How is it that everyone in Heaven speaks English?”
She tilts her head. “They don’t. In fact, I think you’re the only American I’m friends with. I was born and raised in Vietnam.” She points across the table at Gabe, who has earbuds in while he works on his Creator and Angel Relations assignment. “He’s from Puerto Rico.”
“So it’s like Heaven is a giant TARDIS?” I ask excitedly.
Huỳnh’s eyebrows bunch together. “That word doesn’t translate.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s from Doctor Who. The TV show.”
“Ah,” she says slowly. “I’m more of a book person.”
I think of the copy of Jane Austen’s Greed and Gentility on my nightstand, which I still haven’t started. Too bad there’s not a movie. I’m more of a modern romance type of person, although apparently that definition is pretty fluid in Heaven, a place where time isn’t real.
“If I’m reading your book, you’ll have to watch my show. We could make a night of it tonight.” I pause, then add, “But you’re not allowed to skip the ninth Doctor. A bunch of people do, but it’s basically sacrosanct.”
She considers it for a moment, then sighs melodramatically. “Fine. Then you’ll have to tell me how you feel about the first five chapters of the book before we start it.”
