Demonspawn Academy: Trial Three

by Annabel Chase

  I peeled myself away from the window and flew to the main spire. Elder Bahaira kissed my cheek when I entered the kitchen. “A beautiful sendoff.”

  “How did the cambions get involved?” I asked.

  “Rafe and Liesel organized them,” Elder Kali said.

  The Watchers stood at the window. “You’re still here,” I said. My eyes brimmed with more tears as I approached them.

  “Did you really think I’d leave?” Rafe brushed aside the stray hair stuck to my cheek.

  “I wouldn’t have known what to do for him.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. “Even though they cast him out…They took his wings, I know this is what he would have wanted.” I hugged Liesel. “Thank you for this.”

  “The cambions were a lovely touch,” Elder Bahaira said. “It made them feel good to be involved, I think. They’re all so fond of Elder Sam.”

  “We should probably go,” Liesel said. “We don’t want to overstay our welcome.”

  Elder Asago came over and shook their hands. “We’re grateful for your assistance.”

  Rafe’s eyes met mine. “You know where to find me.”

  I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. I didn’t care how many Elders were watching.

  “Cassia, if you wouldn’t mind staying here,” Elder Alastor said. “We’d like a word.”

  I tensed. Were they seriously going to make an issue of this today of all days? I watched Rafe and Liesel go, part of me wishing that I could go with them. Sage was right, though. I belonged with the Elders right now.

  “Is this about Rafe? Because I’m eighteen and…”

  Elder Alastor held up a hand. “This is not about Rafe. Sit down, Cassia.”

  Something in his tone prompted me to sit without protest.

  “Bring her some tea, Aldo,” Elder Bahaira instructed.

  “I told you recently that we made a vow to protect you,” Elder Alastor began. “And now you should know that part of that vow involved telling you the truth on your eighteenth birthday.”

  “Well, sorry I burst your bubble ahead of schedule,” I said. “That’s the danger of educating women. We learn to read and figure out that we bear the mark of our royal shakti demon family before you have a chance to break the news.”

  Elder Bahaira looked at me, and I saw for the first time that her eyes were rimmed with red. I’d been too focused on my own grief to notice hers. “That’s only half of it,” she said.

  “Half?” She wasn’t making sense. “There’s more to know than my father’s identity and the prophecy?” Gods above, wasn’t that enough?

  Elder Kali lowered her gaze. “There’s more.”

  The Elders seemed hesitant to tell me, probably because they could see my head was about to explode. Elder Sam’s death and now this? Happy eighteenth birthday to me.

  “We know who your mother is,” Elder Bahaira blurted.

  It took a moment for her words to register. I thought of all the awkward silences and changes of topic whenever my heritage was mentioned. It wasn’t because they didn’t know the answers.

  It was because they did.

  “When did you find out?” My voice was low and almost unrecognizable.

  “We’ve known from the day you arrived,” Elder Kali said.

  Anger ripped through me and I slapped a hand on the table. “How could you lie to me about something like this for all these years? You know how badly I wanted to know.”

  “It was never meant to hurt you, Cassia,” Elder Asago said.

  I gripped the edge of the table. “Why didn’t you tell me when I learned the truth about my father? Don’t you think that would’ve been the ideal moment to come clean?”

  “We made a blood vow of silence,” Elder Alastor said. “The information was…is too dangerous.”

  Elder Asago cleared his throat. “Imagine you’re the King of the Nether and you find out that, not only is your son’s offspring fated to unseat you—perhaps even kill you—but you also discover that his offspring is part seraphim. Your bitter rivals have infiltrated your bloodline. How desperate might you be to hunt this offspring down and kill her?”

  “And if the seraphim got their hands on this offspring and raised this powerful child among them—raised her to hate demons,” Elder Kali added. “How much damage do you think they could do, wielding this child as a weapon against their enemy?”

  Only one part of the conversation stood out to me. “My mother is a seraph?” Silence blanketed the room as I digested the revelation.

  “Not just any seraph,” Elder Alastor said. “Your mother was Princess Helena, daughter of King Gustav and Queen Felicity, royals of the first throne of Dominion.”

  Was.

  “You mean she gave up her title?” I asked. I knew my question was absurdly hopeful, but I asked it nonetheless.

  “She died, Cassia,” Elder Kali said bluntly. “About ten years ago. There was nothing suspicious. She’d apparently taken ill and failed to recover.”

  My mother was a seraph.

  My mother was a royal.

  My mother was dead.

  I couldn’t decide which part of the revelation to focus on first. It was all too overwhelming. I shot to my feet, knocking back my chair in the process, and ran for the doorway.

  “Cassia, wait,” Elder Bahaira called. “Sit back down so we can talk properly.”

  I spun around to face them. “We’ve had years to talk properly, yet you chose a vow of silence. Now you want to open the floodgates?”

  “Yes,” Elder Kali said, seemingly unrepentant.

  “I don’t want to talk anymore,” I said. “Everything that comes out of your mouths is a lie.” I bolted from the kitchen and returned to my bedroom in Spire 10 in a fury.

  “Cassia, what is it?” Rylan asked, the moment she saw my face.

  Elder Kali swept into the room after me, her dark cloak dragging on the floor. “Sage. Rylan. Go make mischief elsewhere, won’t you?”

  Sage huffed. “But we were about to play…”

  “I don’t care if you were about to play pin the tail on Elder Alastor, take yourselves out of this room this instant.” Elder Kali’s tone left no room for argument.

  Wordlessly, I watched my friends leave. The moment they were gone, I flung myself on the bed and turned my back to Elder Kali.

  “Really, Cassia? You think a bit of teenage rebellion will be enough to rid yourself of me?” She clucked her tongue. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

  I stared at the wall. “I’m surprised they sent you. I would’ve expected Elder Bahaira.” The demon with the soft touch.

  “You left before we could give you your birthday present.”

  I twisted to look at her. “As if I’d want a present from you. Burn it.”

  “You’ll want this one.” She sat on the edge of my bed and set a small box on the blanket. It was wrapped in silver paper and tied with a white bow.

  I studied the gift. It was a surprisingly good wrap job. “I’m guessing Elder Sam didn’t wrap it.”

  “Elder Alastor, if you must know.”

  What I wanted to know was more about my mother. What was she like? Why did she give me away? But I didn’t trust the Elders for answers. Not anymore.

  “Open it,” she urged.

  I removed the bow, followed by the paper. I shimmied the lid off the top to reveal a single seed. This was the urgent present? “Is this to grow my own herbs?”

  Elder Kali laughed. “As much as I would appreciate such a gift, no. It’s something else entirely. This seed will give you access to the information you seek.”

  I stared into the box and the tiny seed. “How?”

  Elder Kali smoothed the blanket. “The seed will give you access to someone called the Memory Keeper.”

  I perked up. “Where can I find her?” I’d go right now, in fact. Truth be told, I couldn’t bear to be around any of the Elders. Between Elder Sam’s death and their lies, there was too much pain here.

  “From what
I understand, she dwells in a pocket of her own,” Elder Kali said.

  I cradled the box in my hand. “What does that mean?”

  “She created a safe place to store memories,” Elder Kali said. “It’s best not to keep them in an existing realm, lest the species in control of that realm decide to claim ownership of them.”

  “Doesn’t she claim ownership of them?” I asked.

  “No, she’s merely their custodian. That’s why she’s called the Memory Keeper and not the Memory Owner.” She gave the side of my leg two affectionate smacks.

  “Does she have a name?”

  “Not that I’ve ever heard. No one is even sure of her species. There were rumors that she was once fae, but that she no longer retains their traits.”

  “You’ve never met her?” I asked.

  Elder Kali stood. “No. I never had the need. Take that seed to the coven. They’ll be able to help you.”

  “Esmariah?”

  “The witches have a special connection to the Memory Keeper. I believe the coven helped with the spell that created her small pocket of the realm.”

  “This was how you planned to tell me about my parents? A seed?”

  Elder Kali’s expression darkened. “You should know that this seed was not freely given,” she said. “Sacrifices were made.”

  “For the greater good?”

  She gave me a pointed look. “And for you. Happy birthday, Cassia.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I asked Rafe to meet me at the coven’s Philadelphia headquarters, located at an abandoned penitentiary not far from the art museum. The dilapidated state of the building was deliberate, designed to keep bounders away. I paced in front of the stone gatehouse, desperate to share the news about my mother. My head jerked at the sound of pebbles crunching. A hooded figure in a red cloak approached the gatehouse and my hand moved to rest on the hilt of my sword.

  “You have nothing to fear from me.” The woman removed her hood to reveal black hair streaked with white.

  “Hello, Esmariah,” I said.

  The head of the coven smiled. “I expected we’d see each other again before too long.”

  I produced the small box from my pocket. “One ticket to see the Memory Keeper, please.”

  Her brow lifted. “I see.” Esmariah glanced around us. “You seem to be waiting for someone.”

  “Rafe is meeting me here.”

  She clasped her hands in front of her. “Ah, the Watcher. Such a fascinating relationship, the two of you.”

  “Is it?”

  “I prefer wizards myself,” Esmariah said. “Perhaps I’m missing out.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I said. “The last wizard I met wasn’t very nice.”

  The witch drew her brows together. “Yes. Mephisto. I heard about your unfortunate encounter with him.”

  “Did you know him? His name didn’t come up when Rafe and I paid you a visit to ask for information about him.”

  “I knew him as Lazarus, not Mephisto. It seems he used a variety of names for the various groups he had connections with. I had no reason to suspect his involvement.” She crooked a finger. “Come with me. We may as well get started. The Watcher cannot join you where you’re going.”

  I followed her past the broken metal door and down the creepy corridor with its rusted pipes and water-stained walls. I’d forgotten how damp the air was in here. The Great Marquis wouldn’t last long here with his asthma.

  As we neared the rotunda at the heart of the building, I glimpsed the enormous ash tree that lorded over the space. Its branches twisted and turned, as though reaching for unseen objects. A black cauldron hung from one of the sturdier branches.

  Esmariah handed me a spade and gestured to a patch of dirt beneath the tree. “You may plant your seed there. It needn’t be deep.”

  I removed the tiny seed from the box and kneeled in the dirt. I used the spade to dig a small hole and buried the seed, smoothing dirt back over the top. I resumed a standing position.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  The base of the tree began to glow with a white light. Esmariah motioned to the tree as the silhouette of a door appeared in the massive trunk. “Now you enter.”

  I gave the corridor a final glance, hoping to see that Rafe had arrived, but I saw only darkness. I turned and stepped into the doorway.

  I found myself alone on a mountainside. A harsh wind blew through me, chilling my bones. I spun around for a better view. There was nothing to see except clouds and snow. It was surprisingly easy to breathe given my location. Then again, my home was in the clouds. My lungs were accustomed to the height.

  Fire crackled in the distance and I felt drawn to the heat. I traipsed to the top of the mountain where a small bonfire burned. A solitary figure tended to the flames with a stick. Her white hair fell past her shoulders and her nose was long and straight. Her skin appeared relatively unblemished, despite the apparent exposure to the elements.

  “Welcome, halfling,” the Memory Keeper said. Her voice creaked like a metal hinge.

  “Hello, I’m Cassia. I’ve come to see my memories.”

  The Memory Keeper cackled softly. “These are not your memories, pet. They once belonged to the dead.”

  I peered at her through the flames. “You don’t have any memories of the living?”

  “The living retain their memories,” she replied. “The dead release theirs into the void where I capture and keep them as a record of what once was.”

  I drew a nervous breath. “What happens now? Do I stare into the flames and see them?”

  She tossed the stick onto the bonfire and sparks flew. I threw up my hands to protect my face. When I lowered them again, the fire was gone and so was the Memory Keeper. Instead, I stood in the clearing of a forest that was filled with…bubbles? I stared at them in wonder.

  I poked a finger at the bubble closest to my face and the fragile exterior burst. I was immediately transported to the kitchen of the main spire. I inhaled the familiar scents of cinnamon and clove as Aldo baked a tray of muffins.

  “Are they ready?” an achingly familiar voice asked.

  I gasped at the sight of Mariska.

  “They need to cool,” the cook said.

  “Set the best one aside for Cassia,” Mariska said, and my heart swelled. She’d always looked after me. Although I wasn’t raised by a mother, Mariska came pretty close.

  “You favor her too much.” Elder Alastor shuffled into the kitchen, looking as grouchy as ever. At least this was confirmation that he didn’t only appear that way in my presence.

  “The child cannot be too spoiled,” Mariska countered. “She’s an orphan with untold powers who’s been isolated from her peers.” She arched an eyebrow. “She deserves the best muffin.”

  “She’s not an orphan,” Aldo said.

  “She may as well be,” Mariska shot back.

  “Tread carefully, Mariska,” Elder Alastor said. “She is not yours to keep.”

  The kitchen dissolved and I was snapped back to the bubble-filled clearing.

  “No!” I only wanted a few more minutes with Mariska. I surveyed the remaining bubbles in the clearing. It seemed that each bubble contained a single memory. Were they all hers? And once I popped it, was the memory gone forever or did it reappear in another bubble to be experienced all over again?

  I observed the bubbles as they bounced gently through the air. How could I possibly choose? What if I picked a random and useless one, like the time I spilled tea all over Elder Alastor’s cloak and Mariska helped me clean the stain. I mean, it had been funny, but I didn’t need to relive it now.

  I began to thread my way through the bubbles, scrutinizing each one. Was I missing something? A way to tell the significant memories from the insignificant ones? There was no sparkle. No blinking arrow. I became paralyzed with fear. The decision suddenly bore too much weight. What if I chose the wrong bubbles and didn’t learn anything about my mother?

  The middle of the clearing
was like being in the eye of a storm. Bubbles swirled around me, dancing to their own music, and I began to hear the voices contained within. The volume increased until it was a single roar of background noise. I closed my eyes again and tried to focus. In the end, it wasn’t a voice that called to me. It was a feeling. A knowing.

  I turned a quarter to the left and opened my eyes. A fat bubble stared back at me, awaiting my decision—to pop or not to pop. I reached up a finger and poked.

  A seraph stood on a bridge that spanned a river. Her loose hair flowed behind her as she faced the breeze with a delighted smile. My heart slammed into my chest as I recognized that smile. I’d seen it in the mirror my entire life. A trio of ducks swam beneath the bridge. My mother’s wings expanded and she climbed onto the ledge. I failed to recognize any of the buildings with the exception of one—the playhouse.

  She’s in New Hope.

  A man ran toward her along the footpath of the bridge. At first, I thought he was chasing her, until I realized he was smiling. He reached for her ankle before she could lift into the air. She fell back toward the bridge, laughing, and he caught her in his arms. They gazed into each other’s eyes and I felt the love between them. The strength of it was in the air and all around us. As he dipped his head and kissed her, the image dissolved.

  Bubbles surrounded me again. I debated which one to pop next. A small one bounced toward me, as though willing me to touch it, so I did.

  I was whisked to a bedroom. My mother leaned her arm on a mantel above a fireplace while her handmaiden tended to the fire. She wore her hair in a loose bun and a glittering circlet rested on top of her head.

  “How are you feeling, Your Highness?” the handmaiden asked.

  One hand moved to rest on the seraph’s belly. “As one would expect.”

  The handmaiden lowered her voice. “Does anyone suspect?”

  “Not yet, but it will be inevitable soon,” she said. “The longer I can avoid detection, the better our chances.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want the prince to know? Might be that he can take the child…”

  “No.” Her tone was emphatic. “I know he would love her as I would, but the danger is even greater in the Nether than here. Leaving her to be raised in the mortal realm is best.”