Traces of Sulfur: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Academy Series (Blade Keeper Academy Book 1)

by Madeline Freeman

  My throat went dry. Senators? Generals? I couldn’t go out there. One of them would realize who I really was. What I really was.

  A soft, firm hand squeezed my shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” Clio said gently. “We’re all here with you.”

  Although her words were kind, I couldn’t take solace in them. I knew they would turn against me as soon as they learned there was a demon in their midst.

  A man with bulging muscles apparent through the fabric of his suit coat entered through a door opposite the one we’d come through. Wordlessly, he nodded, and Headmaster Kemp began herding us toward him.

  “Good luck,” she murmured.

  I bit back a laugh. Luck? I was bound to need more than that before the night was over.

  Chapter Eighteen

  My heart pounded in my chest as I made my way through the narrow passage beyond the door. Brass sconces fitted with light bulbs that flickered like candles lit the dark bronze walls at intervals. Nate led the way, followed by Bridger, Thor, and Clio. I wanted desperately to turn and run, but the silent giant who had summoned us kept pace behind me. In such tight quarters, I had no chance of getting past him. So onward I marched, hoping it wasn’t to my doom.

  I could hear a muffled voice as we strode forward, the cadence suggesting its owner was giving a soaring speech. As we drew nearer to the heavy, carved wooden door at the end of the corridor, the voice became clearer, and I recognized the speaker before I could make out the words.

  Chancellor Kingston. And beyond him, senators, colonels, and generals. Any of them could spot something off about me and figure out I wasn’t an angel like they all thought. And then what? Impersonation wasn’t a minor infraction. I’d go straight to the pit for sure. When I came out—if I came out—I’d be a mere shell of myself.

  So much for my undercover mission. Why did Liza ever think I could pull this off?

  Clio’s fingers circled my wrist. “Hey, you’ll wrinkle the dress.”

  I loosened my grip, realizing only then I had bunched the skirt’s material in my hands. “Sorry. I’m just… nervous.”

  Nervous wasn’t the half of it, but it was as close as I could get.

  She gave an understanding half smile. “Don’t worry. He’ll call us out and he’ll introduce you. Then you have to stand there while he talks about the greatness of the Keepers or something like that.” She rolled her eyes. “Senators eat that stuff up. You just have to stand there. Try to watch him and nod as he speaks. And don’t throw up.”

  Bridger turned, puckering his mouth. “That happened one time,” he said, holding up an accusatory finger in Clio’s direction. “And I didn’t actually vomit.”

  Clio giggled, and the sound untangled some of the knots inside me. I just had to stand there. That didn’t sound too bad.

  Well, actually, standing right next to the chancellor and acting like I gave a crap about what he was saying sounded pretty painful. But Clio had mentioned nothing about the Aether Blade, which dialed back a measure of the anxiety winding my muscles tight. “Just stand there. I can do that.”

  As if I’d spoken some kind of magic words, the door in front of Nate opened and he stepped over the threshold. A final rebellious urge fizzled out as Mr. Muscles behind me cleared his throat when I took a beat too long to follow Clio.

  After the dimness of the corridor, the lights beyond the door were blindingly bright. I blinked several times, but I couldn’t see much beyond the edge of the stage we were standing on. The only clue I had to the number of people or the size of the room was the volume of the applause that thundered through the space. Although there were no whistles or whooping shouts, I could sense the excitement behind the claps and the emotion in the room made my stomach swoop.

  Chancellor Kingston smiled broadly and reached his arm out toward me. He looked just as composed as he had at the trials, with an impeccably tailored tuxedo and perfectly arranged hair. At Clio’s urging, I stepped carefully to his side, trying to balance not tripping over the skirt of my dress and not flashing the training boots beneath.

  I came to a stop just out of arm’s reach from the chancellor. He gazed at me for a long moment, that same massive smile still in place. From a distance, I assumed he looked like a proud and doting elder excited for the new station of the young person standing before him. But from my vantage point, I could tell the smile didn’t reach his shrewd and calculating eyes.

  I drew back my shoulders and lifted my chin. If Isaiah Kingston wanted his gaze to imply he deemed me wanting, I wanted to make it clear I didn’t care what he thought.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, senators and generals, I present to you Miss Eden Jensen, Keeper of the Aether Blade.”

  The applause, which hadn’t entirely died down, swelled to an almost deafening crescendo. Through the glare of the stage lights, I could make out the outlines of people standing around round tables covered with crisp white linens. But although my eyes were adjusting, I still couldn’t see far beyond the first row of bodies.

  “With the Aether Blade’s Keeper found, we have a full unit of warriors for the first time in centuries. Our Keepers have always been a symbol of strength, hope, and power, and I look forward to the day when these cadets graduate and become full members of our Guard.

  “Since the days of Belial’s failed reign over humanity, the Keepers have been beacons of peace and order. It is thanks to them that now our Senate can preside over such a thriving community of ethereals, filled with peace and plenty. Without the need to fight among ourselves, our soldiers can offer support to the world beyond the kis and share the lessons we’ve learned about goodwill and harmony with the humans in the earthly realm.”

  As the applause swelled once more, I fought to keep my expression neutral. A thriving ethereal community where no one fought against his neighbor? Did Isaiah Kingston live in a totally different world from where I grew up? And his talk of widespread “peace and plenty” made me want to punch him in his smug jaw. I couldn't believe the chancellor—the man in charge of our whole world—was so out of touch.

  “Today, we take our first steps into a world we haven’t known in several lifetimes,” Kingston continued. “And I believe I can speak for the senators and guardsmen alike when I say I can’t wait to see what it will look like for the Keepers to work under the direction of the senate when the time comes.”

  Another wave of deafening applause surged as the chancellor stepped back from his podium. Clio crossed the stage and gave my upper arm an encouraging squeeze. “See? I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” she said as she guided me toward the stairs to our left.

  I sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

  Nate, Bridger, and Thor stood by the stairs. For a moment, I assumed they would allow us to walk down before them—ladies first and all. But Nate offered his arm and Clio released me and hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow. When Bridger stuck his own elbow out, I imitated Clio.

  “Don’t let her lie to you,” Bridger said as the two of us followed Clio and Nate down the short flight of stairs. “This was the easy part. At least you didn’t have to talk to anyone. The next few hours will be a blur of a hundred names and faces all asking you the same things over and over.”

  I almost tripped on the bottom step, but Bridger held my arm, and from behind, Thor rested his hand on my shoulder to keep me from tipping forward. Warmth from his palm seeped into my skin, and I glanced over my shoulder to smile a thank-you before turning back to Bridger. “You’re joking, right?”

  Bridger shook his head. “But we’ve all been there. Don’t worry—we know how to handle events like this.”

  His assurance wasn’t entirely calming. What did it matter that they knew how to navigate a party like this when I didn’t have the first clue?

  We followed Clio and Nate to a table toward the center of the room, beside a large empty space. Two people were already seated at our table—Headmaster Kemp and Anders. Clio took a seat to the headmaster’s right, and Nate sat beside her. B
ridger pulled out the chair next to Nate’s, and I managed to sit on it as he pushed it back in, although I was sure I looked like I would fall as I did it. Finally, Bridger and Thor settled in the remaining empty spaces. The Keepers struck up polite conversation with our table-mates as musicians began setting up on the stage.

  Servers arrived at our table, presenting each of us with a plate of salad unlike anything I’d ever seen. The plate was a riot of color—deep green leaves, red strawberries, purple grapes, brown nuts, bright sections from tiny oranges. I watched as others at the table ladled a thin brown dressing on top and followed suit.

  With the first bite, my taste buds exploded. “Gates prevail,” I murmured, forgetting my mouth was still full.

  Nate chuckled from his spot beside me. “It’s good, right?”

  I swallowed hastily. “Like really, really good. Who would’ve thought about sticking all this stuff together? But it’s amazing.”

  He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “As much as I don’t enjoy having to sit through these parties, at least the food is better than whatever they would’ve been serving in the cafeteria.”

  Nate grinned, and my stomach jolted with a sensation I couldn’t quite identify. There was something almost charming about his lopsided grin and the deep dimple the expression etched into his cheek. And his smile—unlike the one the chancellor had aimed my way, reached all the way to his dark brown eyes, making them seem to dance.

  As warmth crept into my cheeks, I hastily turned my attention back to my salad. I couldn’t let myself dwell on the way Nate was looking at me—not if I wanted to survive tonight without making a spectacle of myself. If Bridger was to be believed, the meal part of the evening would be the only portion I enjoyed.

  I was finishing up my salad when the band’s first notes glided through the room. The combination of the strings and the piano were a perfect fit to the floral centerpieces on the table and the delicate china and the jewel tones of the dresses dotting the room.

  While we waited for the main course, Bridger and Nate took turns pointing out different senators and generals sitting at nearby tables and giving me brief descriptions of what I could expect from each. Occasionally, Clio would pass down a piece of information—usually about which men stood too close when talking to her. But when Nate relayed the message that Senator Solomon always asked her for a dance, I feared my salad might make a sudden and unwelcome reappearance.

  “Dance?” I glanced from Nate to Bridger and back again. “You can’t be serious.”

  Bridger lifted his chin toward the open area beyond our table. “What did you think that was all about? They couldn’t sell enough tickets to this event?”

  I bit my lower lip. Now that he mentioned it, the open space becoming a dance floor after the meal seemed obvious. Still, it hadn’t occurred to me that they might expect me to take part.

  “Don’t stress,” Nate said gently. “Anyone who asks you onto that floor will know what he’s doing. None of these guys want to look like a fool in front of anyone else here. Your part’s easy—just let your partner lead you.”

  I snorted. “And break his toes when I step on his feet in my training boots.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Maybe try to avoid doing that.”

  I tried, and failed, to keep from smiling. Maybe I was getting worked up over nothing. Who would even want to ask me to dance? No one here even knew me.

  After they cleared the dessert plates, my stomach was so full of rich food I wanted little more than to go back to my room and climb into bed. The drowsiness that came with a full stomach hit me all at once, and I stifled a yawn.

  Bridger elbowed me gently. “Hey, now. None of that. The night’s not over yet.”

  I groaned. “Why do I not like the sound of that?”

  He pushed his chair back and stood. So did several other people from surrounding tables. A few couples moseyed out onto the dance floor as the music switched from reflective ambiance to a more waltz-like tune. “Want me to take the first shift?”

  I was about to ask what he meant when Nate shook his head. “No, I probably should.”

  “As you wish,” Bridger said with a shrug. “Clio, need a wingman?”

  Before I could make sense of what was happening, Nate rose to his feet and pulled my chair back before offering me his hand. “Let’s mingle.”

  I hesitated for only a moment before slipping my palm against his. My skin tingled as he helped me to my feet.

  And then we were standing close. Too close. Like at the trial when I swung the Aether Blade at him. But there were no swords between us now. My stomach fluttered as I looked into his impossibly rich eyes. His eyelashes were so thick and long, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed them before right now.

  Clearing his throat, he dropped my hand and stepped away from the table.

  The spell broken, I shook my head to clear it. What was going on with me? Now was definitely not the time to allow distraction—not when I was about to walk into the proverbial lion’s den.

  I took Nate’s offered elbow, and he began leading me through the crowd. I wasn’t sure if he had a destination in mind, but I also wasn’t sure if knowing would improve my anxiety.

  Eyes followed us as we moved around the outskirts of the rapidly filling dance floor, but I could almost ignore the prickles on my skin; I was growing used to having people watch me. But one gaze caught my attention. Shonda sat at a table near the back, surrounded by other cadets. Her irritation was evident in the tight set of her jaw, but I didn’t have the bandwidth to guess why she was mad at me now.

  “The woman in the gold dress—she’s the vice-chancellor,” Nate muttered as we approached the table directly in front of the stage.

  I surveyed the woman before us. Her short blond hair was just a few shades off from the fabric of her dress, and her blue eyes were sharp. Although age lined her face, she held herself like a woman of purpose. As we drew nearer, a curious smile curved her lips as she stood from her chair.

  “Ah, Mr. Kouri,” she said warmly as Nate stopped in front of her. “Exciting times.”

  He nodded. “Indeed, Ms. Vice Chancellor.” He took a step away from me, and I missed the warmth of his presence immediately. He didn’t move far, but it was enough to leave me feeling exposed. “May I introduce Eden Jensen, Keeper of the Aether Blade.”

  I ducked my head, unsure how else to respond. It felt weird being presented like this. The chancellor had already announced who I was to the whole room.

  “Eden, this is Vice Chancellor Abrams,” Nate continued.

  The vice chancellor held her hand out, and I realized what a more natural response this was than my silly nod. I took her hand and did my best to match the firmness with which she squeezed my fingers. “A privilege to meet you,” Vice Chancellor Abrams said.

  “I…” I swallowed in a vain attempt to dissolve the lump in my throat. “Um, yes. And a privilege to meet you as well.”

  She smiled indulgently as she released my hand. “Stories of old have long regarded the Keeper of the Aether Blade to be special even among the other Keepers. I look forward to seeing what’s in store for you, Miss Jensen.”

  Her words hit me off center and I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. Luckily, she turned her attention to Nate. “It’s nearly time for the autumn mixed sparring competition, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Always an exciting time.”

  She smiled indulgently. “My grandson still talks about the time he faced off against you.”

  Nate grinned. “How’s Archie doing? He’s not still upset that I beat him, is he?”

  The vice chancellor chuckled. “Nonsense. He says he learned quite a lot when he faced you. And he’s well, thank you for asking.” Her eyes flitted over our heads to the party beyond. “I’m sure you two have a number of people to speak to tonight. It was lovely meeting you, Miss Jensen. And it’s always a pleasure, Mr. Kouri.”

  I ducked my head in an awkward farewell as Nate
led us away from the vice chancellor’s table. That hadn’t been so bad. “Do you know everyone here?”

  He shrugged. “More or less. There are a few new senators I haven’t gotten to meet yet, and I’m sure they’ve promoted some captains to colonel since the last time we had a gala like this.”

  I supposed his answer shouldn’t surprise me. If he’d been a Keeper for at least nine years, he’d had plenty of time to meet the people in power. “What were you saying to the Vice Chancellor about her grandson?”

  He shook his head, smiling. “Her grandson, Archie, graduated last year. We’ve known each other for ages. At the spring sparring match, he got it in his head that he would win the competition and best me in the finals.”

  “And he didn’t?”

  “He’s a powerful fighter,” Nate said diplomatically. “But, yeah, I beat him.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. While some people went out of their way to sound humble, it appeared Nate was doing the opposite—trying hard to sound like he was bragging instead of relaying an outcome. “And there’s another one of these matches coming up soon?”

  He nodded. “But you don’t have to worry about it. Tonight, you just have to focus on having a billion more little chats and this will all be over.”

  I turned my harshest glare at him, but I couldn’t hold it when faced with his devastating half smile. While the idea of having the same introductory conversation with every nearly every person in this room made my decadent dinner churn in my stomach, having Nate at my side made the whole thing seem less daunting.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As the night wore on, interactions with different people began blurring into one never-ending conversation. Sometimes I spoke with groups or pairs instead of one-on-one with people. Those instances were always more awkward because I felt like I was supposed to be performing in a play I had forgotten the lines to. But through it all, Nate stayed by my side, picking up the slack when my responses fell short.