Demonspawn Academy: Trial Three

by Annabel Chase

  “Thank you for telling me,” I said. “It means a lot that you trust me.”

  “I know it may not seem like it, Cassia, but it means even more that you trust me,” he said, and closed the door behind him.

  Chapter Four

  Elder Alastor arranged for me to meet Crest at Hotel Franklin in Center City. Apparently, the envoy was familiar with the historic hotel given that it was owned by Balthazar, an ancient vampire who’d owned the hotel since the eighteenth century.

  Rafe and I made sure to arrive early to pay our respects to Balthazar. It was best to make nice with someone as influential as the vampire, especially because he was prone to alert the academy to cambions in need when the situation presented itself.

  “Greetings, exotically attractive halflings,” the vampire said. He strode into the lobby of the hotel in a suit that shimmered as though spun from gold thread. For a vampire in the mortal realm, he didn’t strive for subtlety.

  Rafe shot me a quizzical look. “I’m exotic?”

  “To a vampire, yes,” Balthazar said.

  Rafe shook the vampire’s hand and it seemed to be a competition as to which one could squeeze harder. My money was on Balthazar, although I’d never say that to Rafe and injure his pride. The gods knew he had enough amazing qualities to make up for one small test of strength against an ancient vampire.

  “I suppose you’re here to ask about New Hope,” the vampire said.

  “Why? Do you know something?” I asked.

  “No, but not for lack of trying,” Balthazar said. “It’s strange. An entire town laid to waste in what is essentially my own backyard and no one seems to know a thing.”

  “The Watchers feel the same,” Rafe said.

  “I imagine so.” The vampire adjusted his shiny cufflinks. “It is rather your job, isn’t it? To protect humans from this kind of cataclysmic event, and yet it wasn’t even on your radar.” He clucked his tongue. “An embarrassment, I’d say. What does Dominion have to say about it?”

  Rafe shifted to the balls of his feet. “They know we’re doing the best we can.”

  Well, I knew that was a lie.

  Balthazar arched a sculpted eyebrow. “No heads rolling then?”

  “Not today, but I’m sure you’ll be the first to know,” Rafe replied.

  Balthazar smiled, revealing his impressive fangs. “Well, not the first.”

  “Tell me, if you haven’t come to grill me for information, then what brings you back to my humble abode?” The vampire gesticulated, drawing our attention to the marble columns and gold-leaf architectural details. There was nothing humble about Balthazar or his hotel.

  “We’re meeting someone here to discuss the…event,” I said, lowering my voice.

  Although his brow lifted, there was no sign of wrinkles. Vampire skin was the equivalent of permanent Botox. “I see.”

  A small group of businessmen entered the lobby from outside. Balthazar ushered us to the base of the wide staircase that led to the portrait gallery where dozens of paintings of Founding Fathers were on display. The last time I’d been up there, I’d been attacked by a ravener demon disguised as a kindly professor. I’d learned a valuable lesson that evening about deceptive appearances.

  Balthazar stroked his chin. “Am I welcome at this little rendezvous? It seems that I, too, have a stake in the matter.” He shuddered. “Oh, I do loathe that word, yet sometimes it’s the correct choice in context.”

  I assumed that the vampire would make the request. As long as I didn’t reveal anything private that Elder Alastor had told me, I figured Balthazar could be an asset. The Elder had to know that if we met at Hotel Franklin, Balthazar would slither his way into a seat at the table.

  “We’re meeting him out front by the fountain,” I said.

  “Join me in the restaurant when he arrives,” Balthazar said. “I’ll make sure a table is ready for us.”

  I nodded, and Rafe and I crossed the lobby to return outside to the entrance.

  “Are you sure you want him to sit in?” Rafe asked. “What if he passes information to someone we don’t want to have it? Information is currency to him, remember.”

  “We’ll keep him in check,” I said. A vampire that had rescued dozens of cambions over the years wasn’t purely motivated by selfishness.

  “Incoming,” Rafe said, his chin tilted upward.

  I followed his gaze to a black crow approaching. As the bird swooped toward us, its stick legs lengthened and widened and its beak melted away. By the time his feet hit the pavement, the chanda demon had taken human form.

  “You must be Crest,” I said. The demon looked more like the guy named Stuart that ran the convenience store close to 8th and Market than a trusted envoy for the Nether. Maybe that was the point.

  “And you must be Cassia,” the demon said. He glanced at Rafe. “And you must be the Watcher.” Trust Elder Alastor to anticipate my decision to bring Rafe.

  “This is Rafe,” I said.

  “I imagine the nephilim have a special interest in this matter,” Crest said.

  Rafe shook his hand. “That’s an understatement.”

  “Are we going to talk out here or can we go in for a bite to eat?” Crest asked. “If I recall correctly, the restaurant here is outstanding.”

  “That’s the plan,” I said. “If you don’t mind, Balthazar would like to join us.” I leaned forward. “I think he’d be willing to comp the meal.”

  Crest brightened. “In that case, the more, the merrier. My travel budget isn’t what it used to be. There’ve been cutbacks over the past few decades.”

  We reentered the hotel and crossed the lobby to the staircase that led downstairs to where the restaurant was located. As promised, Balthazar was already at a table waiting for us with a pitcher of iced tea and a basket of brown bread that smelled as delicious as it looked.

  “The legendary Balthazar,” Crest said. He reached across the table to shake the vampire’s hand. “It’s been a long time.”

  “It has indeed. I didn’t realize you were the other party.” Our server approached the table with a bright smile for her boss and Balthazar took the liberty of ordering for the table.

  “I take it you know about New Hope,” I said to Crest.

  The demon looked grim as he slathered butter on his bread. “I went and checked it out for myself from the air before I came here.” He sucked in a breath. “Nasty business.”

  “Cassia and I were on the ground there,” Rafe said. “We even met a survivor.”

  He stopped chewing. “How is that even possible?”

  “One of mine?” Balthazar asked.

  I shook my head. “A human with the Sight. She had a vision and trusted it. Saved her life.”

  “Too bad it didn’t save everyone else’s,” Crest said. “I haven’t seen that kind of devastation since…” He came to an abrupt halt.

  I peered at him. “Since when, Crest?”

  He fiddled with his fork. “A place in the Nether. You wouldn’t know it.”

  “As a matter of fact, Cassia and I witnessed a similar incident during our visit to the Nether,” Rafe said. “Enir.”

  “You went to Enir?” Crest asked. He leaned back and fixed his gaze on me. “Oh, of course. That makes sense.”

  Balthazar wore a devilish grin. “Now this is getting interesting. Why look at Cassia when you say that? Tell me, Crest. What do you know about our young demonspawn?”

  Crest suddenly seemed out of his depth. “I know that she went to see the king not so long ago. The whole network was buzzing about halflings in the palace.”

  At first, I was startled that Elder Alastor would have revealed any information about me, even the lie about being Yara’s daughter, but it occurred to me that Crest had put the pieces together himself. Between my white hair and my uncommon name, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to make the connection.

  “The evidence in Enir suggested it was the king’s handiwork,” Rafe said. “That he was sending a message t
o anyone thinking about rebellion.”

  “My sources say the king denies it.” Crest wiped his mouth with the white linen napkin and placed it next to his plate. “Whatever the reason, it was some nasty business. But I don’t think the incident in New Hope has anything to do with the king.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “It’s one thing to launch a sneak attack on a tiny village in your own backyard,” Crest said. “It’s quite another to leave the realm and violate a treaty. I didn’t hear a squeak about New Hope until after it happened. It would be almost impossible for the king to launch an attack of that scale in the mortal realm without some chatter before or after and it was as silent as the grave.”

  “What about his plans for expansion?” I asked. “A bold move against bounders would fit with his intentions.”

  “He hasn’t even handled the resistance in his own realm yet. Until he’s dealt successfully with that, he wouldn’t dare reach beyond Nether borders. It would be a guaranteed failure and he knows it. He’s brash and brutal, but he isn’t stupid.”

  “No, he isn’t,” I agreed.

  “Could it be rogue demons acting outside of the king’s authority?” Rafe asked. “Maybe the king isn’t moving quickly enough for their liking and they thought they could ramp up expansion plans by launching their own attack?”

  Crest balked. “With access to that level of power? Seems unlikely.”

  Balthazar tapped his fingernails on the table. “Rogue demons usually aren’t very good about keeping their mouths closed. They like nothing better than to boast about their accomplishments.”

  “What about those rebellious factions the king’s found difficult to control?” Rafe asked. “Maybe they’re trying to stir up trouble for him.”

  “They tend to be the ones that oppose expansion,” Crest said. “They have no reason to attack the mortal realm. They just want a happy, united Nether.”

  Rafe’s expression grew solemn. “If Dominion decides that the king is responsible for decimating human towns…I don’t have to tell you what the seraphim will do.”

  “We’ll all suffer for it.” Crest swallowed hard. “I would suggest looking at the details of the attack. If it was a rogue band of demons, there would only be certain types capable of inflicting that style of damage. I know I’m not able to level towns. I can’t even level my wonky front porch.”

  “What about the king?” I asked. “Do you think he’d be willing to work with us to find the responsible party?”

  Crest hesitated. “From what I understand, the king doesn’t want to be bothered with problems in the mortal realm. As far as he’s concerned, he didn’t do it and that’s the end of it.”

  “Even if he’s considered a suspect?” Rafe asked, incredulous.

  “I don’t think it will surprise you to learn that the King of the Nether doesn’t much care what anyone thinks of him,” Crest said.

  “I can’t say I blame him,” Balthazar said. “The Nether is enormous, not to mention the warring factions. His hands must be quite full.”

  “Another reason for rogue demons to attack while his back is turned,” I said. “The king is preoccupied.”

  “I’m surprised that possibility doesn’t worry him,” Rafe said. “If there are demons conspiring against him that are powerful enough to inflict that kind of damage…”

  “Ah, but the king is resilient. He always manages to rise from the flames anew, much like…” Crest stopped, his eyes widening. “Of course. The Great Marquis, Lord Renato.”

  Balthazar’s hand moved to rest on the back of his neck in an uneasy gesture. “Unfortunately, that thought has merit.”

  I held my breath, eager to learn more about the Great Marquis.

  “Who’s Lord Renato?” Rafe asked.

  “He resides in the Nether,” Crest said. “Powerful in his own right.”

  “And you think he hopes to acquire more power by eviscerating human towns?” I asked. How did he intend to accomplish that? How was a show of strength against vulnerable humans impressive to anyone?

  “It’s no secret that he intends to leave his position in the Nether,” Crest said. “There’s a prophecy…”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course, there was. “Let me guess. He’s a long-lost shakti demon who believes he’s destined for the throne.”

  Balthazar tapped the table with a surprisingly dainty hand. “I’ll field this one, if you please. Lord Renato is a phenex demon and he believes he’s destined to claim the throne that should rightfully belong to him.”

  “I’m confused. He claims to be a reincarnated King of the Nether?” I asked.

  “Not that throne,” Balthazar said. “Think higher.”

  Rafe started to choke on his sip of iced tea. “Dominion?”

  “That makes no sense,” I said. “He’s a demon. Dominion has always been controlled by the seraphim.”

  Balthazar clucked his tongue. “This is where your history lessons would prove valuable. What are they teaching young cambions these days?”

  “In a previous clash between the Nether and Dominion,” Crest interjected, “the Great Marquis pledged his support to the seraphim in exchange for the seventh throne and turned the tide of the war.”

  “The seventh throne?” I asked. “How many royals does Dominion have?”

  “Too many,” Rafe said. “But seven total spread throughout the realm.”

  “How did Lord Renato manage to keep his comfy position in the Nether after committing treason?” I asked. “The king would never allow that.”

  “The Great Marquis is a clever demon,” Crest said. “After the war ended, he promised the king a vial of his blood if the king would spare him.”

  “Not this king,” Balthazar interrupted. “This predates the current regime.”

  Rafe dragged a hand through his dark blond hair. “Why would a vial of his blood be so valuable?”

  “He’s a phenex demon,” Balthazar said. “They are not unlike vampires.”

  Understanding dawned on me. “So, he’s like a phoenix.”

  “A phoenix rises from the ashes,” Crest said. “Makes quite a mess too.”

  “And his is the kind of power that could preserve his victims in ash, I take it?” Rafe asked.

  “Stands to reason,” Crest said. “I wouldn’t want to meet one in a dark alley. Like you said, they have that creepy vampire quality.” Black feathers suddenly sprouted from Crest’s head. “Ouch. Balthazar’s foot is crushing mine.”

  The vampire laughed gaily. “Is it? Apologies, I was so engrossed by your story that I hadn’t noticed.”

  I glared at Balthazar. “No intimidating the informant.”

  “How do you think I’ve managed to extract valuable intelligence for hundreds of years?”

  “Elegance and charm?” I suggested.

  “There is that.” Balthazar seemed appeased.

  Even so, Crest smoothed the feathers down until they dissipated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you creepy.”

  “Where can we find this Great Marquis?” Rafe asked.

  “Are you sure you want to?” Crest asked. “I hear phenex demons are crafty suckers. They lure you in with their innocent voices and then they tear the flesh from your limbs and set you alight.”

  “Because that’s how they resurrect themselves?” Rafe asked.

  Crest shook his head in annoyance. “Because they like their flesh crispy.”

  Well, that wasn’t a barbecue I planned to attend.

  “Phenex demons aren’t that common,” Crest said. “Even the legions he commands are made up of other species of demons as far as I know. It’s not like he’d have legions of phenex demons at his disposal. No one would.”

  “Is he strong enough to have destroyed New Hope by himself?” I asked.

  Crest chewed the last of his bread. “No idea. Never met the guy, but he’s been quiet for a long time, you know? Maybe too quiet.”

  “Maybe he just wants to fly under the radar until the time c
omes for him to claim the seventh throne,” Rafe said.

  “Or perhaps he intends to intimidate Dominion into handing it over without a fight,” Balthazar said.

  “That’s assuming the prophecy is true,” I said. “This poor phenex demon might be delusional and end up wasting his life on an impossible goal.”

  “I don’t know that I’d feel sorry for him,” Crest said. “He doesn’t seem like someone you’d want to host a pity party for, but hey, you wanted options, right?”

  “And now we have one,” I said. “Thank you, Crest.” And thank you, Elder Alastor.

  Chapter Five

  “Have I mentioned that you live in the coolest place in the city?” Rylan danced her way down each row of books. She seemed more interested in admiring the spines than actually cracking any open and getting to work. Not that I blamed her. Between the wall-to-wall books and the scent of vanilla and almonds, Liesel’s library home base was appealing to me too.

  Liesel smiled at her. “I think a secret academy in the clouds might be a close second.”

  After our meeting with Crest, I’d convinced the Elders to let my kenzoku come to Liesel’s place in the city to help with research. The Great Marquis was one lead, but it didn’t mean we should rest on our laurels. There were other demons that could have caused that kind of mass destruction. Once Elder Alastor heard the words ‘independent research’ and ‘books,’ he gave his blessing.

  “Domus won’t be our home for much longer,” Rylan said. “We need to get used to other places.” She spun past the stacks of supernatural history books and landed with her hands splayed on the rectangular table where the rest of us were busy reading.

  “Can we not talk about it?” Barris asked. He leaned his elbow on the table with an exaggerated sigh.

  Sage shot him a look of annoyance. “Can we not whine about it?”

  Liesel glanced from Sage to Barris. “What’s the problem? You’ve lived there forever and now you’re adults. I would think you’re chomping at the bit to break free and live on your own.”