Demonspawn Academy: Trial Three

by Annabel Chase

  “We discussed that possibility,” I said. “But like Rafe said, Dominion doesn’t pay close attention to this realm.” They shipped off their unwanted nephilim to keep an eye on things, but seraphim tended to consider matters here beneath them. It was one of the reasons the academy was here. Even though Domus Academy harbored cambions, the Elders had opted not to put the academy in the Nether because full-blooded demons were often hostile to halflings as well. They didn’t revile us as much as seraphim, but the mortal realm was the safest choice—and hidden in the clouds far above the mortal realm was even safer.

  “The Watchers will report the event to Dominion, won’t they?” Elder Bahaira asked.

  “Not without more information,” I said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “But it’s a violation of the treaty,” Elder Bahaira protested. “Dominion must be told.”

  “Cassia’s right. We don’t know for certain it was her grandfather,” Elder Sam said. “Laying the blame at his feet without evidence could have serious repercussions.”

  I bristled. “Can you please stop calling him that?” I was tired of everyone talking about the king as though he and I had a close bond.

  “Well, the king is your grandfather,” Elder Alastor said.

  “You make it sound like I have some personal connection to him,” I said. “It isn’t fair.”

  “You’ve spent time with him in the Nether,” Elder Bahaira said. “He’s not a stranger to you anymore.”

  “He doesn’t even know my real identity,” I argued. “He thinks I’m Yara’s daughter.” A necessary lie.

  Elder Bahaira polished off her tea. “Still, he knows you exist and that you’re his granddaughter.”

  “Can we stop making this about me?” I demanded.

  “It’s difficult not to,” Elder Alastor said. “You can’t claim insight on the one hand, but then disclaim your connection on the other.”

  I drummed my fingernails on the table. “I just don’t know that blaming him for the attack makes sense. I don’t want to ignore the other possibilities.”

  “What other possibilities? You said yourself that the destruction was identical to Enir,” Elder Sam said.

  Elder Kali’s mouth formed a thin line. “What if this is only the beginning?”

  “It wasn’t identical,” I protested. “In Enir, there was an actual message. My grandfather had someone leave a blade with his symbol. We didn’t find any evidence like that in New Hope.” Although it would have to have been more obvious than a small blade in that mess.

  “A minor detail, it seems to me,” Elder Asago grumbled.

  “Trust me, I’m more than willing to believe he’s capable of this,” I said. “I know he’s not a good demon, but I don’t think we should rush to judgment.” I met Elder Sam’s gaze. “You taught me that.”

  Elder Bahaira stood and bustled to the counter to clean up. She’d taken over Mariska’s housekeeping duties since the brownie’s death.

  “It’s late and I’m sure you’re tired, Cassia,” she said. “You should return to your spire and go to bed.”

  “Before you do that, Cassia, I’d like to see you in the library, please.”

  I froze. Elder Alastor rarely wanted to see me anywhere unless it was to receive a detailed report on my exploits. Even worse, he’d said please.

  “Now?” I asked.

  “Clearly.” He turned and shuffled down the corridor to the library. I had no choice but to follow.

  Memories flooded me as I stepped into the room lined with books. Gretel was curled up on the sofa without a care in the world. I wondered if she missed Mariska. Apart from me, the caretaker had probably paid the oversized cat the most attention. I’d spent so much time in the library over the years. It seemed strange to be here now, especially alone with Elder Alastor. That never happened.

  “You seem rattled,” he said. I noticed that he didn’t sit. Instead, he paced the length of the throw rug in front of the sofa. He stopped when he reached the fringe and then turned to cross to the opposite end. Even his pacing was precise.

  I dropped onto the sofa and stroked the cat. She immediately hissed, but, to the surprise of no one, she allowed me to keep petting her.

  “Of course, I’m rattled. It was one of the worst things I’ve ever seen,” I said. “And I’m still having nightmares from my time in the Nether.”

  He came to a halt and faced me. “Ah, yes. The Nether. An ideal segue.”

  I frowned at him. “I never thought I’d say this, but you seem rattled.” Elder Alastor was typically the one to discount emotions and focus on the facts. He didn’t do rattled.

  The Elder fidgeted with the seam of his cloak. “I may be able to offer assistance in connection with the New Hope matter.”

  “You know something?”

  “No, I would have said so in the kitchen if I did.”

  My eyebrows shot as high as they could go without leaving my forehead. “Then what kind of assistance?” Something seemed to be nagging at him and I couldn’t imagine what it was.

  “I have a contact. I can reach out to him.”

  That was far too vague for my liking. “What kind of contact?” I buried my fingers in the cat’s thick coat and her body began to vibrate with a soft hum.

  Elder Alastor looked at me—really looked at me. It wasn’t typical for him. He excelled at avoiding eye contact with me and I’d always figured it was because he didn’t like me. Didn’t appreciate the fact that, as a baby, I’d invaded their personal space in the main spire and became the inadvertent focus of Elder life at the academy.

  “An envoy,” he said simply. “Someone with connections in the Nether.”

  I pulled my legs into a cross-legged position. “You mean an envoy from the Nether?” Why was this the first time I’d heard of this valuable contact?

  “I haven’t spoken to him in years, but I’m confident I can get in touch.”

  “And you’ll ask him about New Hope?” I asked.

  “No, but you will. He cannot come here and I cannot leave Domus.”

  I eyed him closely. “Can’t or won’t?”

  Elder Alastor paused. “Both.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this envoy in front of the others?”

  His beady eyes bored into me. “There are things you don’t know about me that you deserve to hear in private.”

  “And you’ve decided now is the time?” Great. More secrets.

  He backed into the wide leather chair that was angled to face the sofa and sat. “Believe me, the decision was not easily made.”

  “Why tell me now?”

  “I think that’s obvious.” He clasped his hands in his lap. “I need you to be the conduit.”

  “What’s wrong with Elder Sam?” I asked.

  Elder Alastor snorted. “You think my contact will divulge Nether intelligence to a seraph?”

  Fair point. “What’s this envoy’s name?” I asked.

  “Crest.”

  “Like the toothpaste?”

  “A coincidence, I can assure you. He’s a chanda demon.”

  I’d never met one of those. I had a pretty good guess that his breath wasn’t minty fresh. “And how do I arrange a meeting with him?”

  “Leave that to me. I’ll provide the details once I have them.”

  Ha! For once Elder Alastor would be providing details to me. “How do you know this envoy?” Despite growing up in the main spire, I knew very little about the Elders’ lives before the academy. They rarely discussed the topic, at least in my presence. Maybe all the good conversations were happening now that I was in Spire 10. I pictured Elders Kali and Bahaira in the kitchen late at night, sharing glimpses of their rebellious teen years. Oh, to be a fly on the wall. Maybe I could have Barris arrange that for me.

  “I had a life before the academy, Cassia.” His tone was mildly admonishing.

  “I know. That’s why I’m asking. Tell me more about it.” I leaned back against the cushion. Beside me, the cat stretched
into an oblong shape on the edge of the sofa. Her belly was so big that I worried her center of gravity would force her to the floor.

  “I originally hail from the Nether.”

  No surprise there. He was a full-blooded demon, unlike the pupils at the academy. “Did you know Crest when you lived there?” Was there an academy for awkward and annoying demons?

  “Our paths crossed often because of our roles. I was known unofficially as the Lord of Shadows.” He unclasped his hands and rubbed them along the arms of the chair. Another nervous gesture. It was so unlike him that I felt my own anxiety rising in response.

  “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. It isn’t common knowledge, even within the Nether. I delivered intelligence to the palace.”

  “Why have you never mentioned this before?” I was so taken aback that I stopped petting the cat. Gretel urged me to continue with a nip on my thumb, which I ignored.

  He shifted his focus to the rug. “Some secrets are necessary.”

  “Secrets have been nothing but trouble for me,” I shot back.

  “And that’s one reason I have decided to share the information with you now. If New Hope is any indication, time is running out.”

  That got my attention. “Time for what?”

  “Allow me to explain.” He rose from the chair and resumed his measured pacing. “I knew about the prophecy pertaining to you. I knew about all the prophecies. Knowledge was integral to my role.”

  “Lord of Shadows,” I murmured. “You’re saying you were basically a professional eavesdropper?”

  “Do you remember what kind of demon I am?”

  Embarrassment burned my cheeks as I realized that I actually had to reach for the answer. All the Elders were demons, save Sam, yet I’d never given their origins much thought. To me they were little more than gatekeepers. The adults tasked with my upbringing. I didn’t view them as individual demons with their own histories and experiences. I viewed them through the myopic lens of immaturity and selfishness.

  “You’re an umbra demon, but how does that…?” Then I remembered. “You can fade.” It was such an unnecessary skill for an Elder that it became forgettable—but an invaluable one for someone called the Lord of Shadows.

  “Very few knew of my role. It made my job easier if no one was trying to identify me and offer false information.”

  “Then you actually know the king.” Elder Alastor knew my grandfather. The knowledge seemed surreal.

  “Not intimately, but he was aware of the role I played on his behalf.”

  Another thought occurred to me. “Are you at the academy because of me?”

  He glanced at the doorway as though concerned someone might be listening. “No, I arrived before you. I call that kismet.”

  “Did you know Yara too? My father?”

  “No,” he said. “It was best for me not to have direct contact with royals. And your father traveled frequently, as did I. Your aunt was off trying to carve a space for herself in the realm.”

  “But you knew envoys like Crest?”

  He nodded. “He was a trusted part of my network.”

  A numbness crept up my leg so I unfolded my legs. “Did you report to Du?” I’d met the king’s loyal chamberlain during my visit to the palace.

  “Yes. The king was paranoid about prophecies in general, not only yours. He wanted to collect any available information about them. Oftentimes he’d lose interest in one and my assignment would change.”

  “Did you report on my aunt’s activities?” I asked. Yara had grown rebellious after the king’s paranoia set in.

  “No, she fell outside the scope of my duties.”

  “Are you the reason the academy has a connection with Balthazar?” I asked. The Philadelphia vampire’s trade was information and favors. “Was he part of your network?”

  “We share mutual contacts,” he said vaguely.

  I squinted in confusion. “If you work for the king, then why have you been holed up here for so many years?” Not only that, why did he refuse to leave?

  “When I first heard about the existence of a secret academy for cambions, I decided the mortal realm would be an excellent place to sit quietly and gather intelligence.”

  “You literally positioned yourself between heaven and hell,” I said.

  He nodded. “I never intended to stay for very long, and then you arrived…”

  “Exactly. I arrived and you were told the identity of my father.” My head was spinning. “Yet you kept my existence to yourself. Why?”

  “You should have seen the state Sam was in when he came to us for help with a wailing baby in his arms. He knew asking a group of demons to shelter the two of you was a huge gamble—we could have easily turned on him—but he did it anyway. I had immense respect for him from the outset.”

  I thought of the artificial wings that Elder Sam wore in place of his original ones. I’d always thought it was strange that Alastor had been the one to make them because it seemed so out of character.

  “You were so small and vulnerable…and noisy. I knew what would happen to you if I reported what I’d learned.”

  My stomach dipped as the realization swept over me. “And you couldn’t go through with it.”

  “I was torn between my duty as the Lord of Shadows and my duty to myself. I wanted to be able to face myself in the mirror each day. I didn’t expect to stay here. Eventually I stopped all communications and disappeared into this particular shadow. Months turned into years and here I still sit.”

  “Is that why you won’t leave the academy?” I asked. “Are you afraid that you’ll be killed for abandoning your post?”

  “And because I worry that I would inadvertently lead the wrong party to you and the others.”

  “You’ve kept me alive, knowing that I might one day kill the king you served?”

  He gave me a rueful smile. “Grounds for treason, wouldn’t you say?”

  I blinked back tears. “I thought you hated me.” Hated both of us—Sam too.

  Hurt flared in his eyes. “I do not have the passion required for hatred, Cassia. I admit there might have been resentment on my part but I don’t blame you. You didn’t ask to be born into such difficult circumstances.”

  “Why not reveal my existence later, when I wasn’t a cute and innocent baby anymore? Did you ever consider changing your mind?”

  “For one thing, it’s only been in the past year or so that you started to show signs of real power. In fact, I’d begun to wonder whether the prince had fathered another child. That perhaps you weren’t the offspring mentioned in the prophecy after all.”

  “Do you think that’s still a possibility?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not anymore. It’s one of the reasons I’ve decided to tell you the truth now.” He rubbed his forehead. “There were other prophecies aside from yours, one of which I was reminded of today. It involves the mortal realm.”

  “Is that why you said we could be running out of time? That New Hope might very well be the point of no return?”

  “Yes, because of the Falling Star prophecy.”

  “Did mine have a name?” I asked.

  “Of course. The Heir Apparent prophecy.”

  I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Doesn’t that imply that I’m destined to rule the Nether someday?”

  “Not necessarily. Prophecies are often flexible.”

  “You’re not a fatalist then,” I said, echoing Rylan. I suspected those books in the Spire 10 library belonged to Elder Alastor. No wonder he was so keen for us to learn ancient languages and prophecies.

  He chuckled. “I’d call myself a pragmatist more than anything.”

  “So maybe time isn’t running out because of New Hope.”

  His expression darkened. “I’d prefer not to leave it to chance, wouldn’t you?”

  I almost didn’t want to know the answer to my next question, but I had to ask. “What does the Falling Star
prophecy say?”

  He cleared his throat and used his reading voice—the one I remembered from when he’d read passages from Homer and Sophocles. “When fire rains down from the heavens and the earth trembles in fear. When lives are dipped in amber and freedom is only a memory. Paradise will be lost.” He paused. “That’s translated from Sumerian, naturally, but you get the idea.”

  I did, and it was pretty dreadful. “It doesn’t even rhyme,” I complained. “If it’s going to reveal something horrible, it should have the decency to rhyme.” Gretel dragged herself to a standing position and arched her back, unconcerned.

  His mouth twitched in amusement. “Yes, that’s the main issue, isn’t it?”

  “You think the ash in New Hope represents the fire raining down?”

  His head bobbed. “And their preserved state represents being dipped in amber.”

  “In that case, couldn’t Enir be considered the point of no return?”

  “If that’s true, then we have even less time than previously thought.”

  My head started to throb. “How do we stop it?”

  “I think speaking to Crest is an excellent first step.”

  I pulled my knees to my chest and dug my heels into the edge of the sofa. “And you trust me to speak with him?”

  “He won’t know who you are,” Alastor said.

  I looked at him. “That’s not what I mean.”

  His expression relaxed. “I trust you, Cassia.”

  I grunted. “Could’ve fooled me. You’ve been awfully hard on me over the years.”

  “To make you strong, Cassia. The others tended to baby you, allowing you to live in the main spire and receive personal attention. I knew what you might face one day and I wanted to make certain you were ready when the time came.” He blew out a breath. “I assure you that I have taken our vow to protect you very seriously.”

  My head snapped to attention. “There was an actual vow?”

  “All the Elders made a promise, sealed with blood,” he said. “And I intend to keep mine.” He shuffled toward the doorway.

  It seemed that Elder Alastor’s loyalty had shifted from the Nether to the academy that fateful day. I’d never felt much love for the demon, but I did now. I resisted the urge to hug him though. Somehow, I knew he wouldn’t be receptive to physical affection from me. His revelation may have shed new light on the demon, but he was still Elder Alastor.