Demonspawn Academy: Trial One Read online

  I arrived at Spire 10 and was delivered straight to the aptly named weapons room, where four other cambions were already gathered. According to Elder Sam, the five of us would complete our final year at the academy together. Although the room wasn’t as large as the armory in the main spire, that didn’t surprise me. The Elders seemed to have every imaginable weapon at their disposal, not that we got to train with all of them. The Elders tried to match us with weapons that complemented our specific skill set.

  I thrust back my shoulders and adopted a swagger as I entered the room. Admittedly, I had practiced this walk in my room in front of the full-length mirror for the past few weeks in anticipation of this very moment. While I was wholly comfortable entering a room full of grown demons, I didn’t have experience with cambions my own age. Mariska reminded me many times that my upbringing gave me a distinct advantage over my peers. For most of their lives, their only interaction with adults had been limited to lessons and the occasional counseling session.

  “Cassia, so pleased you could join us.” Elder Alastor pressed his palms flat together and bowed. The demon was my least favorite of the Elders. I’d always gotten the distinct impression that he tolerated me more than anything else. I couldn’t blame him really. As the only child in the main spire, I must have put a damper on adult time over the years. “I’d like you to meet your kenzoku for the next year.”

  “We’ll see about that,” someone muttered. I realized it was the dark-haired girl with brown skin and lashes so thick that they nearly blocked my view of her eyes.

  “Sage, you’ve been warned,” Elder Alastor said. “This is Sage, Barris, Zeph, and Rylan.”

  “You really do have white hair,” Barris said. “I always thought it was a myth.”

  “That’s because you never bother to look out the window,” Sage said. “I’ve glimpsed you during your outdoor lessons with Elder Sam.”

  I nodded. “He taught me how to fly.” Among other things.

  “Must be nice to have your very own army of tutors,” Sage said under her breath.

  “Elder Bahaira says that white hair is the kiss of the angels,” Barris said.

  My hand flew instinctively to a strand of my hair. “It’s my human side. I’m missing something called melanin.”

  “But your eyes are gray,” Sage said. “Shouldn’t they be red or something?”

  I shrugged. “Not all albinos are created equal.”

  “I’m a rakshasa demon,” Sage said. She flipped her long, dark ponytail over her shoulder. “So, if anyone kills you today, I can possess your corpse.” Her lips curved into a malevolent smile.

  Zeph elbowed her in the ribs. “Knock it off, Sage. You’re only half anyway. Maybe you can only pilot half a corpse.”

  She narrowed her eyes to slits. “We’re all only half. That’s what makes us cambions.”

  Barris seemed to have had enough of Sage’s attitude. He produced a dagger and held it in a threatening manner. Sage responded by grabbing a double-sided axe from the wall. Before either could strike the first blow, two swift kicks had them both on their backs on the floor. They struggled back to their feet, stunned.

  Zeph gaped at me. “How did you do that?”

  “She had excellent training,” Elder Alastor said, returning to the weapons room. “I can see it was a mistake to turn my back. If the five of you can’t get along for five minutes, it doesn’t bode well for the next year.”

  “May the Whistlers find you and leave me your corpse to play with,” Sage practically hissed. The Whistlers were a group of five mercenaries that combed the realms for cambions. When I was younger, Mariska used to threaten me with the Whistlers if I didn’t do as I was told. Most of the Elders talked about them as though they were just an old folktale or a creepy story to share in the darkness. If you hear whistling in the woods, you’d better start running. Unfortunately, I knew from Elder Sam how terrifyingly real the Whistlers were. The leader was called Moloch and Elder Sam had met him more than once. Their final meeting was in Trenton, New Jersey when they battled over an infant with a shock of white hair.

  “Don’t even talk about Whistlers,” Rylan said with a shudder. “They’re the main reason I never tried to sneak out of the academy.”

  “They’re just an old nursery rhyme,” Zeph said. “A story to keep us from running off and wreaking havoc in the mortal realm.”

  “You couldn’t wreak havoc if you shifted into a bull in a china shop,” Sage said. “Face it, goat boy. Havoc is not your specialty.”

  Zeph gave her a dark look. “Have you forgotten that I command the wind?”

  Sage’s laugh tinkled throughout the weapons room. “You’re lucky if you can blow the petals off the flower.”

  Despite his great height, Zeph seemed to shrink in front of my eyes.

  “Mariska says the wind can be as powerful as a god’s breath,” I said. “I remember getting caught in a bad storm once when Elder Sam took me into the city for errands.”

  “Elder Sam has taken you into the city?” Sage asked.

  I realized quickly that had it had been a mistake to mention it. “Yes.”

  “Sounds like you and Elder Sam have quite the cozy relationship,” Zeph said. “I would’ve thought that sort of thing was frowned upon.”

  I scowled at him. “He’s like a father to me.”

  “He’s like a creeper to me,” Sage said. She shivered. “I don’t know how you can look at that kind of disfigurement without cringing.”

  Anger coursed through my veins. “He can’t help the way he looks,” I said. And I knew I was the reason he looked that way. If it hadn’t been for rescuing me, he might never have been cast out by the seraphim. I owed him a debt that I could never repay.

  “Look how cute she gets when she’s angry,” Sage said. “Her nose scrunches like a bunny’s.”

  A shrill sound jolted the room and Elder Alastor turned to us, his expression unreadable. “Huddle together and stay here!”

  “What’s going on?” Barris asked.

  Elder Alastor shot from the room without another word.

  “It sounds like some kind of alarm,” Rylan said.

  “Well, we couldn’t choose a safer room to be in,” Barris said, motioning to the weapons around us.

  “Unless it’s a fire,” Rylan said. “Then I don’t think the double-sided axe will be very useful.”

  “It will be if we want to chop through the walls or break glass,” Barris said.

  A trio of Elders rushed into the room. I noticed Elder Sam’s eyes flicker with relief when he spotted me.

  “What’s happening?” Sage asked.

  “There’s been an intrusion,” Elder Sam said.

  “How is that even possible?” Rylan asked. “No one knows we exist.”

  “Shouldn’t you be checking on the other spires?” I asked. I thought of all the younger cambions, how terrified they must be.

  Elder Sam glanced uneasily at his cohorts. “We already did. They’re fine. Just a little shaken up.” Something in his tone made me think that he was lying, but I couldn’t think of any reason why he would lie about a thing like that.

  “What do we do?” Sage asked. Her dark eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. She seemed awfully enthusiastic about an intrusion.

  “We wait here until we know the matter’s been handled,” Elder Bahaira said. “Elder Asago will let us know.”

  “How could anyone find this place?” I asked. Domus was the most well-kept secret in the realms. Spires in the clouds. One external portal with enough wards to stump a dozen covens.

  “We’ll let you know when we know more,” Elder Sam said.

  “Somehow I doubt that,” Sage murmured.

  “Perhaps we should check on Asago,” Elder Bahaira said. She seemed torn between staying in our room and returning to the main spire.

  “You know the protocol, Bahaira,” Elder Sam said. “We wait here until we’re given clearance.”

  “Surely you don’t mean here,” Sage s
aid. “Of all the cambions, we’re the most able to take care of ourselves.”

  “I meant this room,” Elder Sam said. “The weapons make it the safest place in the spire.”

  Elder Kali burst into the room. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see the Elders with us. “You must come to the main spire.” Her thin lips were nearly as pale as the rest of her.

  “What is it?” Elder Bahaira asked.

  The Elder’s gaze flicked to me and I saw the tears glistening in her eyes. “We’ll discuss it on the way,” she said.

  “Is Mariska okay?” I asked.

  The expression on Elder Kali’s face told me everything I needed to know. “Away, Elders,” she insisted.

  I tried to chase after them—to demand answers—but one of them locked the door from the outside.

  “Tell me what happened!” My fists pummeled the door in vain. “I can’t stay here.” I suddenly felt like a caged animal. If something had happened to Mariska, I had to be there. She’d always, always been there for me. I began to feel around the edges of the door.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Sage asked.

  “Getting out of here.” I ran to retrieve the double-sided axe.

  “You can’t be serious,” Rylan said.

  I swung the axe as hard as I could.

  Rylan tried to wrest the axe from my grip. “Are you stark raving mad? I guess we now understand why you were kept in the main spire all these years.”

  Sage smiled. “Isn’t it awesome?” She grabbed another weapon from the pile. “Here. Let me help you.”

  Together, we hit the door again and again, until it broke off the hinges.

  “I bet they sealed the internal portals,” Sage said.

  “Fine by me. I’ll use the hatch.” And I ran to the nearest one.

  “No fair,” I heard Sage say behind me. “Now I really want wings,” Sage said.

  I spread mine wide and flew.

  I landed on the ledge of the main spire and peered into the first available window. The kitchen was dark and empty. Evidence of breakfast had long been cleared away.

  I maneuvered to the nearest hatch. Of course, hatches were generally off limits to cambions unless they were used during a training exercise. Mariska taught me to ask forgiveness, not permission, though. I was more willing to take advantage of that now.

  I opened the hatch and dropped to the floor with the grace of a cat. Not Gretel, of course. That bulky feline weighed a good twenty-five pounds thanks to a steady diet of Elder scraps. No one claimed responsibility for feeding her outside of designated mealtimes, yet her oversized physique told a different story.

  The library was vacant as well. I felt a pang of longing as I passed by the rows of books. I’d spent many a happy evening in this room, alone with a good story or with Gretel on my lap. Mariska and Elder Bahaira enjoyed books as much as I did and took every opportunity to bring me here as a child.

  I crept into the corridor and strained to listen. Voices drifted from the right. There weren’t many rooms of interest in that direction—the incinerator room, the south-facing greenhouse at the end, and the door to the lower level that led to the archives.

  I padded down the corridor, continuing to eavesdrop while I edged closer.

  “A healer is no good to her now,” Elder Alastor said. “We should notify her next of kin.”

  “And who would that be?” Elder Kali asked. “The only one she cared about is…”

  “Me.” I emerged from the shadows to stand behind them. When the Elders parted their circle to regard me, I saw her.

  Mariska.

  Her throat had been cut and she lay in a pool of blood. Gretel meowed on the floor beside her. I’d like to say that I screamed and howled and pounded my chest before throwing myself across her fallen body. In truth, I did none of those things. I simply gawked at her like she was a strange animal in an enclosure at the zoo. My body felt numb. So did my head.

  “Cassia, you shouldn’t be here,” Elder Sam said, though no one moved to escort me away.

  “How could I not be?” I managed to say. My voice came out softer than I’d intended, nearly a whisper.

  “There’s evidence of a struggle,” Elder Asago said. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, seemingly aware of how clinical he sounded under the circumstances. “Whoever it was, she tried to stop them.”

  “And gave her life in exchange,” Elder Sam said. He looked again at Mariska’s body.

  “Protocols are in place,” Elder Alastor said cryptically. “We need to…” He stopped short and sucked in a shaky breath. “We need to deal with Mariska.”

  Elder Asago stepped forward. “I’ll do it.”

  “Be sure to collect whatever evidence you can,” Elder Alastor said. “We want to find the one responsible.”

  “And show no mercy,” Elder Kali said. Her stony expression made that abundantly clear.

  I took a hesitant step forward. “Before you…can I…?” How did you ask for a final moment with a loved one? Which words did you string together to make such a request?

  The Elders cleared a path for me and I dipped my knees in the blood beside her. My fingers curled around her hand the way they did as a small child. I used any excuse to hold her hand—to walk from my bedroom to the library or from the kitchen to the training room, just because I could. She was the only one to show me physical affection. I knew I was fortunate to have had that much. Only the cambions in the nursery were afforded hugs and kisses. According to Elder Bahaira, once you made it to Spire 3, you were basically on your own.

  I smoothed back her hair and closed my eyes so that I could picture her as she was—her pleasant expression and infectious smile. I bent over and kissed her forehead.

  “I’ll see you over the rainbow bridge,” I whispered.

  Elder Sam squeezed my shoulder and I returned to a standing position. Blood stained the knees of my new pants, not that I cared. It was Mariska’s blood. The last trace of her I’d ever have.

  “Come, Cassia,” Aldo said. “I’ll fix us all a drink.”

  We dragged ourselves to the kitchen and sat around the island. My body felt heavier than normal, as though a weight pressed me to the seat of the chair. The cook made a pot of coffee, one of many bounder indulgences that the Elders enjoyed. Gretel jumped on the island in front of me, seeming to sense our distress and coming to investigate.

  “What did the intruder want?” I asked. I’d been wanting to know from the moment I saw Mariska’s lifeless body—what was so valuable that the killer was willing to steamroll over whatever got in his way.

  “They took something from the archives,” Elder Kali said. “They must have encountered Mariska on their way back to the external portal.”

  The archives? What prize could possibly have been downstairs in the dusty archives that was worth Mariska’s life?

  “There aren’t any valuables down there,” I said. I knew firsthand, having spent hours of my formative years in the archives organizing documents by topic. Elder Bahaira used to call those dull exercises character-building.

  “Not valuables per se, but there are objects of value,” Elder Asago said.

  “Like what?” I asked. “Spit it out.”

  The Elders exchanged wary glances. In the end, old habits die hard and Elder Sam spoke. “A list.”

  “Of what? Groceries? Day of the Dead gift ideas?” I asked in exasperation.

  “A list of current cambions at the academy and their origins, or what limited knowledge we have of them,” Elder Sam said. “It’s called the Book of Admissions.”

  “Curiously, the second book was untouched,” Elder Alastor added. “The Book of Graduates.”

  “Who would want that information? How would they even know to come here? Our location?” My mind reeled as question after question pressed against my tongue.

  “We all need time to process the events, Cassia,” Elder Bahaira said. “Perhaps then things will become clearer.”

  “Mariska i
s dead,” I said. “Someone murdered her right here in what is supposed to be a safe haven for our kind. It has to be someone who knew.” Which made it that much worse that they’d killed Mariska. Odds were good that Mariska had known her murderer.

  “We don’t know for certain,” Elder Alastor said. “It could be that information was sold by an insider, but the theft itself was carried out by another.”

  “You mean the theft and murder,” I ground out.

  “Yes, of course.” Elder Alastor averted his gaze. “We are all deeply saddened, Cassia. You are not alone in your grief.”

  “The good news is that the book is warded with powerful magic,” Elder Bahaira said. “The perpetrator of this heinous act won’t have an easy time trying to open it.”

  “Why would you bother to ward it in the archives room?” I asked.

  “The ward is only designed to take effect if the book leaves the academy,” Elder Kali said. “Once outside our borders, the book is locked and unable to be opened without the proper key.”

  I looked at her. “A metaphorical key, I presume?”

  “Warded or not, we need to find that book,” Elder Asago said. “We can’t risk that information getting out.”

  Elder Kali’s eyes blazed with an amber hue. “What could they possibly intend to do with it?”

  “Sell it,” Elder Alastor said. “Use it to prepare for an attack.”

  My stomach lurched. “On the academy?”

  The Elder held my gaze. “If you were going to storm a building, wouldn’t you want to know exactly what or who you were up against?”

  Elder Bahaira picked imaginary lint from his cloak. “Now Alastor, let’s not frighten the poor child any more than she already has been. No one is storming this academy under our watch, are they?”

  “They’ll die trying,” Elder Sam said.

  Aldo slid a mug of peppermint tea into my stiff hands. “Careful not to burn your tongue.”

  “I’m not a child,” I yelled and Aldo recoiled.

  “You should return to your room,” Elder Alastor said.

  “My room is here.” I lifted my chin a fraction.

  “Not anymore.” Elder Alastor drained his coffee mug. “Finish your drink and then return to your chambers in Spire 10. Your kenzoku will wonder what’s happened to you.”