by Nia Night
In my dreams, I was back at the Academy.
It was the day after my mother’s death, the first time I’d set eyes on the place. I saw it as clearly in dreamland as I’d seen it that day. The high stone wall stretching in either direction for what seemed eternity, the iron gates that swung open soundlessly as I approached. It had been a cool fall evening, and a nearly full moon glanced down between the veil of passing clouds, casting a silver-blue glow over the place.
Turrets and battlements rose out of the stonework, and Sisters patrolled the ramparts, silent as felines on the hunt. I felt so tiny standing there in the shadow of the main building, unable to tear my eyes away from the façade, which seemed to stare back at me. Even the golden glow from the hundreds of windows did nothing to penetrate the darkness that seemed to hang in a shroud over the place. There was no sound when the gate closed behind me, not even a stir of wind. I glanced back just in time to see it click shut, to see that any thoughts of fleeing were entirely futile.
I was marched forward by the Sister who’d come to retrieve me, though I didn’t know that’s what she was at the time, or that such a thing as Sisters even existed.
Not that I’d asked any questions. I had nowhere else to go, no one else in all the realms who wanted to lay claim to me. I followed her into the mouth of the Academy silently, unaware that this was the place that would shape me and my entire life’s trajectory.
I was greeted by the Warden, a female Wolf named Valda, who still oversaw the Academy today.
The great hall of the main building was a vast chamber, the walls on the inside the same dark stone that made up the out. A massive, ugly chandelier hung as the centerpiece, and I would later come to find that it was made of bones. It was all hard, jagged edges, and lent a sickly yellow feel to the space. Straight ahead was a wide staircase, and beyond, from every angle, darkness.
During the day, the hall was not so forbidding for the light that would spill in from the arched windows high above. But it was always cold, and it was never pleasant. In fact, I would soon find that cold and unpleasant were running themes at the Academy.
“Do you know where you are?” asked Warden Valda. She was a strong but slim female, as were all the Sisters, with bright red hair she kept secured in a tight braid down her back, and a face that was as cold as the halls.
I shook my head.
“This is the Academy of the Sisterhood,” she told me. “It is not your home. You don’t have a home. You are an orphan. But this is where you will learn all you need to know. This is where you will find an anchor.”
I didn’t know what to make of these words. The Academy was not a home, but an anchor? What did that mean to a child of ten years old? Nothing. All I heard was that I was homeless and parentless, and these were things that I had already known, even if I’d yet to accept them.
From there, I was dismissed. The Sister who’d brought me here led me toward the dormitory where the other fledglings around my age were housed. All the girls were already abed as I arrived.
The chamber where they slept was as drab as what I’d seen thus far; just a long hall lined with two opposing rows of small metal cots. Every bed was filled save for one.
No one lifted an eyelid as I slid into the cot the Sister jerked her chin at before leaving me without a word.
That night, sleep would not find me, because all I could see was the face of my mother, the scene that had taken her from me. It replayed in my head on a loop, the feelings that accompanied it choking me and making me dry heave at intervals.
I stared into the darkness for hours, seeing the shadowed features of the monster who’d killed her, waiting for him to jump out of the darkness and kill me too. By the time morning came, I hadn’t received a wink of sleep.
All the girls around me rose in unison, like a bunch of automatons, half an hour before the sun broke over the horizon and filled the dormitory with muted golden light. Not knowing what else to do, I rose along with them and followed them through the efficient process of the morning routine. Make bed, evacuate, wash face, brush teeth, secure hair, get dressed. Be in the training hall before the Sister who was instructing arrived. Do not falter, do not be late, don’t dare to yawn or make a face.
I would soon regret the fact that I had not gotten any sleep the previous evening, because on day one at the Academy, training began.
13
I awoke thirty minutes before the sun rose over Carson City, my mind flashing back to the dream from the night before.
It had been years since I’d relived the memories of my initial arrival at the Academy, and I hoped it would be years before I did again.
I climbed out of bed and did a strenuous workout, hoping to sweat away the troubles. The exhilaration did what it could to alleviate the stress. Then I went in search of food, wandering out into the streets of the city and deliberately not thinking about all the things my mind wanted to focus on.
“Have you reconsidered my proposal?” asked a deep voice behind me as I crossed 9th street and rounded a corner.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. The Angel had such a stealthy way of moving.
“If you keep sneaking up on me like that,” I warned, “you might get hurt.”
Kieran took a spot beside me, keeping pace as I moved through the city. “The only way you will wound me, Iliana, is if you refuse to join me,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re so dramatic, and I already told you, I can’t get involved.”
“But you are involved.”
I paused, turning to look at him, thinking against my will that it would be a lot easier to be mean to him if he were not so damn handsome. “I don’t know how to find the child. Locating missing things is not my expertise.”
Kieran smiled, but there was something beneath it that made my eyes narrow. “I don’t need you to help me find the child,” he said.
My brow furrowed, and I waited for him to continue.
“I’ve already found her. I need your help in retrieving her.”
“Why in the ten hells do you need me for that?” I gestured at him. “You seem plenty capable.”
“Because Vida is being held at the Academy of the Sisterhood,” he answered. “And I believe you are familiar with the place, no?”
I glanced around nervously before placing my hand on the Angel’s chest and shoving him into a nearby alley. I refused to think about how hard that chest was, how sculpted. My heart hammered and I drew a breath to steady it.
“How do you know that?” I snapped.
“I’ve been busy,” Kieran said. “I’ve got it on good authority that the Academy is where the child is being held.”
“And, what? You figured I’d help you break in and steal her?”
His head tilted, blue eyes glittering with mischief. “Yes, pretty much.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “No. I can’t. It’s impossible.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
“Both. And like I said, even if I wanted to—which, I certainly do not—it’s impossible. The Academy is a fortress, and it’s crawling with the best assassins in all the realms. You’re talking about a suicide mission, and I have no interest in such things.”
“We cannot let the child be influenced by the Sisters,” he said. “You can’t be blind to how detrimental that would be. We’re talking about the fate of the world.”
I was instantly offended, even if my musing for the past few weeks supported his argument. “Detrimental? I grew up in the Academy. I’m a Sister.”
Kieran’s lips pressed together, and the expression on his face revealed that this was his point exactly. My hands clenched into fists, the effort to not swing one at his stupid face massive.
Instead, I scoffed and shook my head, turning to leave the alley. Kieran caught my arm, tugging me back toward him. I’m not sure what kept me from flipping him on his ass for such possession, but I didn’t. I came close, but when I looked up and met his eyes, there was so much…emotion
there that the idea of breaking free left me, and I stood where he’d immobilized me.
“You know the place, Iliana,” he said gently. “You know the layout, the system, the routines. Do you really think the Academy is the best place for Vida, with what destiny has claimed for her? Do you think that denying emotions, suppressing feelings, will help her to choose the right side when the time comes? I don’t mean what I say as an insult to you. I hold you in a very high regard. I only mean to say, I need your help. There’s only you to ask. I’m begging you.”
For a moment, I could do nothing but stare. Kieran’s face was close to mine, his body so near, the masculine scent of him so overwhelming, that I could do little but draw air. My eyes were locked on his, the blue of them drowning me, a rip current that had caught hold of me, and was now determined to drag me out to sea.
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” I said at last, and there was no more anger in the words. My voice came out smaller than I’d heard it in a long time.
Kieran’s hands traveled to my shoulders and ran down my arms. He drew me closer still. I told myself to step out of his hold, not to be fooled by his handsome face and pleading demeanor. One of the things they taught us early on at the Academy was that male folk, of every race and species, could not be trusted. It was part of The Code. Bang all the males you wanted, but never, ever get involved beyond that.
“I do know what I’m asking,” he replied gently. “And I’m sorry that I have to ask it, but I’m also glad that it’s you I must ask it of. I know that your training has demanded detachment of you, but I also see how hard you struggle with it. You are not a Sister of sin, not if you don’t choose to be.”
“You’re trying to get me killed,” I said.
The Angel shook his head. “No, Iliana. I’m trying to save you.”
The fact that I was considering this shit was ridiculous.
The fact that I was leaning toward doing it was even stupider. I wondered if the Angel had not cast some strange spell over me. I asked him as much as we returned to his hotel room to discuss the matter further, after much refusal on my part and insistence on his, and received only a chuckle and a shake of his head in answer.
“I don’t need to be saved, Kieran,” I told him as I claimed a seat over by the balcony and looked out at the city below. “I’m not a damsel in distress.”
Kieran took the chair beside mine, dragging it closer to me before doing so. “That is the very last designation I’d assign to you,” he said. “But I will tell you more about the child, and why it is so important that she be raised by the forces of good before coming of age. That way, when you decide whether or not to help me, you can do it with a full understanding of what’s at stake.”
I bit my lip, glancing over at him. “And if after you tell me all there is to know, if still I refuse, will you accept my decision and let me be?”
Kieran held up his large hand. “I swear it by the Father.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t believe in the Father. Only the Original Sisters, Malla and Marra… I don’t suppose you have anything to drink?”
His lips pulled up in a smirk. He rose and went to the mini fridge, returning a moment later and setting all the bottles on the table on the other side of me. Kieran had to lean over me as he did so, and I had a good view of his torso, of the way the muscles there shifted under his shirt.
“Pick your poison,” he said.
I chose one at random, uncapped it, and took a swig. “Fine,” I said. “Go. And when you’re done telling me about the child and the prophecy, you might want to add a word or two about why the hells I should even trust you. For all I know, you could be the wrong hands for the child to fall into.”
“I am not the wrong hands. I am her fated guardian, but your point is taken, and I’ll do my best.”
He rose again and retrieved a book stowed under the mattress of the bed. Returning to the seat beside mine, he stared down at the tome in reverence. I noticed that it was not unlike the book that Milo Rayyan had shown me when I’d first been told about the child and her role in our world. But where Milo’s book had been very old and dark, Kieran’s book was very old and light. It had a certain glow around it, a golden aura that was so subtle I couldn’t even be sure I was seeing it.
Kieran opened the cover and turned it toward me, the way a parent might read a bedtime story to a child. I almost commented on this, but was captured instead by the images on the page, and soon found myself lost in them, along with the deep and soothing tone of the Angel’s voice.
“Before the raising of the Veil,” he began, “before the division of the realms, supernaturals and humans, mortals and immortals walked the earth, known to one another.”
I stared at the page, where a picture of a pristine world stared back. The colors were so vibrant that they seemed alive, the water so blue, the sky so lucid. Various creatures, both mortal and immortal, wandered about on this glorious landscape, people of all races.
“For a while, all was serene. All was right with the world,” Kieran said.
He flipped the page. The scene changed entirely.
“Then the wars between the races began. Wolves fought Vampires. Angels and Demons slaughtered each other in the hundreds of thousands. Men and magic users collided to the detriment of all. The Fae went on crusades and left entire cities in ruin.
“The wars lasted for millennia. Entire species were wiped out. Famine and disease spread. Crops refused to grow. The Gods caused devastating storms, scorching fires, and massive floods. The earth was ravaged, and not a creature upon it was left unscathed.”
He flipped the page again.
“At some point, the Gods grew weary of the bloodshed, and created the divine plains as a safe haven for the immortals. They also created the ten hells for the worst of their kind, and cast out those who were undeserving.”
“From this, Demons were born, created in the darkness, forbidden from entrance to the divine plains, forced to live in the hells for all of eternity.”
The page he turned to now depicted the two realms side by side. Whereas the divine plains were green, rolling hills and blue skies holding fluffy clouds, the ten hells were dark pits of fire, burning brimstone and despair.
“The mortal and supernatural creatures left upon the earth remained in chaos even after the Gods’ departure. War continued to rage, blood continued to spill. The world was a ravaged place, a hell in its own right. Supernaturals fought not only the humans, but amongst themselves. The number of lives lost was in the millions.”
I had to look away from the scene on the page now. So much death. So much destruction. A world on fire, and even as a Demon born of such magic, I couldn’t stomach the sight of it.
Kieran continued on. “This continued until a Sorceress Queen and her allies rallied their magic to create the Veil. The realms were separated. The Wolves kept to the Wolves. The Fae kept to their Forest. The humans were made to forget the existence of such creatures, to write them into myth, rather than history. From the ashes of the old world, a new world was born.
“The Fates left behind a prophecy, that one day, the Veil would drop once again, and the mortals would once more be aware of the supernatural races. With the fall of the Veil, the separation between the heavens, the earth, and the hells, would crumble, and on the heels of this, apocalypse would follow.
“The Fates predicted there would be a child, one who was not mortal, nor supernatural, nor divine. The child, the Fates claimed, would be one of seven keys, but also a deciding factor of this coming apocalypse. Whether good should triumph over evil would be a matter of what was in the child’s heart, of what had been cultivated there.
“Should the child choose darkness, war would once again ravage the world, and it would know no end for an expanse of time unfathomable to mortal minds. When it finally did cease, there would be nothing left to rise from the ashes.
“But, if the child were to choose light, if there was such goodness in her hear
t that she should accept the light even when the dark seemed all encompassing, balance would be restored, and the world would once again know peace between the races.”
On the pages now were two completely opposing visions. On the right, there was the world and all its glory. There was sunlight and laughter, love and happiness. The images were abstract, non-definitive, but the overall impression of the depiction was clear. The right page was light. It was balance. It was peace.
The left page was done in the same abstract manner, only it spoke of sadness and heartache, of jealousy and greed, anger and hatred. It was the darkness in its purest sense.
And the worst of it was, when I looked at those two pages, it was on the left that I found myself. Perhaps not because of my Demon blood, a thing out of my control, but because of the choices I’d made, the life I’d chosen. The life that had chosen me.
You’re trying to get me killed, I’d told the Angel.
No, Iliana. I’m trying to save you, he’d said.
14
“You do realize, if we do this, and we’re caught, they’ll kill us both. No one will ever find our bodies.”
The Angel shut the book and placed it on the table beside him. He’d turned his chair to face mine, even though I was still angled toward the windows. Scooting to the edge of his seat, he stared at me with those intense blue eyes.
“We should probably try not to get caught, then,” he replied.
“The place is a fortress, Kieran. I couldn’t even get away with sneaking to the kitchens in the middle of the night. None of us could get away with anything. It’s a place of discipline, rigid obedience, unfaltering rules. In the nearly six hundred years it has been in existence, there has never been a breach. If the child is indeed at the Academy, she’s already beyond reach.”
“We set our own limitations. They are what we make them.” he said.
