Demonspawn Academy: Trial Three

by Annabel Chase

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’re criticizing my love for you?”

  “No,” I said. “Just your choice of vocabulary.”

  He dipped his head and kissed me again. “How about intensely?”

  “That works.”

  He extended an elbow. “Come along, Cinder-seraph. The ball awaits you.”

  I’d read many descriptions of Dominion during my years at the academy, but nothing prepared me for the reality of it. The realm was more beautiful than I envisioned. We landed just outside the Silver City where the ground was a blanket of white that made me feel like I was walking on cotton. The enormous gates that protected the city were intricately designed with details reminiscent of musical notes.

  Rafe displayed the invitation and the gatekeeper verified its authenticity before handing it back to him. The gates creaked open and the entire city became visible. The gleaming silver buildings reminded me of a larger version of the academy, with towers that spiraled high into the sky. It was ironic, considering that Domus Academy had been crafted by demons.

  “And I thought the academy spires in the clouds were an amazing sight,” I said, almost breathless as we passed through the gates. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the gatekeeper lower his head in deference. I hoped that didn’t become a common occurrence or I was going to be extremely uncomfortable. It was one thing when it happened with the amon demons at the burial ground—it meant they scurried away and didn’t kill us. Being treated like a princess by seraphim in Dominion was an entirely different experience.

  Rafe observed me looking up at the seemingly endless number of balconies. “Most seraphim fly everywhere,” he said. “Walking is far less practical.”

  “No need for dragons here,” I said, remembering my trip to the Nether.

  The palace was positioned high on a hilltop that overlooked the city. I glimpsed a parade of seraphim flying toward the entrance in their angelic finery.

  Rafe cast a glance at me. “Are you ready to be introduced to Dominion royalty?”

  I inhaled deeply and straightened my shoulders. “I was thinking of introducing myself as bianco diablo. What do you think?”

  He clasped my hand. “Has a nice ring to it.”

  We launched into the air and threaded our way between the spires to the palace. I tried to stay focused on the evening ahead, but it was difficult not to be distracted by the view of the city. I was accustomed to Philadelphia with its modern high rises and downtown historic buildings. The Silver City seemed to have been created with a single icy breath.

  Music greeted my ears as we landed on the silver carpet that led into the palace. We waited our turn in line as each guest was checked for weapons. I was glad to have heeded Rafe’s advice and left mine behind. It would’ve been awkward for the guest of honor to be relieved of her daggers in front of everyone.

  When we finally entered the palace, I drank in the elegant, sedate atmosphere. Every seraph in view appeared resplendent in their formal attire, their white wings stretched and smoothed.

  “You can tell the royals by their glittering skin,” Rafe whispered. “I expect all seven thrones will be here tonight.”

  I looked around and spotted a few seraphim with sparkling faces. “Is that genetic?” I didn’t recall seeing any glittering faces in my mother’s memories.

  He laughed. “No, it’s special makeup they apply. It’s basically like wearing a crown on your face.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “That’s one way to describe it.”

  As we approached the ballroom, a seraph drifted over, a welcoming smile on his handsome face. “At long last, Princess Cassia.” He took my hand and kissed it. “It’s a great honor to meet you.”

  “And you,” I said. “This is my companion, Rafe.”

  He nodded at the nephilim. “My name is Tyne. I knew Sam before his exile. I understand he passed recently.”

  My stomach clenched at the mention of Elder Sam. “Yes. He was very special to me.”

  He bowed slightly. “If you don’t mind me saying, you have your mother’s smile.”

  I balked. “You knew my mother too?”

  “Naturally. One can’t know Sam without knowing the princess. They were always together.” Tyne’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “She was much beloved.” His smiled dissolved. “The whole of Dominion was devastated to lose her.”

  “I’d like to hear more about her sometime,” I said.

  Tyne glanced around the palace. “I’d love to, but I dare not monopolize you. There are so many others who are excited to meet you. I’m not alone in wanting to see our lost princess introduced to the realm.”

  Yes, but did the others want to see me dead or alive? I’d find out soon enough.

  “This is pretty overwhelming,” I said. “My first ball and it’s in my honor. I’m terrified of embarrassing myself.”

  “You needn’t be,” Tyne said. “Everyone is eager to make your acquaintance. They won’t much mind whether you know the traditional seraphim folk dance.”

  My eyes popped. “There’s a traditional seraphim folk dance.” I elbowed Rafe in the stomach. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  Tyne broke into a broad smile. “Apologies, Princess Cassia. It was only a joke.”

  Rafe rubbed his stomach. “No more jokes tonight or I’ll be bruised.”

  “Would you honor me with a dance later?” Tyne asked.

  “That would be nice,” I said. It was hard to put this seraph in the same category as August and King Gustav. Then again, why would I? People were different. Demons were different. Why not seraphim?

  Rafe leaned closer to Tyne. “Any chance you could point out August when you see him?”

  Tyne’s brow furrowed. “Why would you want to meet an ogre like him? There are so many lovely seraphim to meet tonight, especially your family.”

  My family.

  Not the tapestry family stitched together by circumstances, but actual blood relations. Would I share any physical features? I already knew my gray eyes were inherited from my father and I had my mother’s smile. Would I have the cheekbones of my grandmother?

  “Are they here yet?” I asked. I’d like to believe my voice sounded completely natural, but I was fairly certain it came out as more of a squeak.

  “Of course,” Tyne said. “They’ve talked of little else. I don’t think they’ll believe you’re real until they’ve seen you with their own eyes.”

  I craned my neck and scanned the sea of seraphim. “Where are they? Have you seen them since you arrived?”

  “In the main ballroom,” Tyne said. “Don’t leave it too long. The palace is enormous, as I’m sure you’ve already discovered, so it might take you time to work your way through the guests. All the royals are here, even from as far as the seventh throne.”

  Rafe and I exchanged amused glances at the mention of the seventh throne. Poor Lord Renato.

  “You know, not that I’m one to stand on ceremony, but you really should be powdered,” Tyne said.

  “Powdered?” I queried.

  “He means get glitter on your skin,” Rafe said.

  “You’re a royal,” Tyne said. “You should be recognized as such.”

  I laughed. “I think I’m already recognizable enough.” I flapped my dark wings for good measure. “No one’s going to mistake me for anyone other than the guest of honor in this crowd.”

  Tyne grinned. “Are you suggesting we all look alike?”

  “Not at all,” I said. My cheeks grew warm. “I only meant that…”

  Tyne gave my hand a playful squeeze. “I’m only teasing, Your Highness. We’re not all so stuffy in Dominion, no matter what impression Sam might have given you.”

  Our smiles faded at the mention of the fallen seraph. What would Elder Sam think of me here now? All his efforts and sacrifice and yet here I was, ready to embrace those that cast him out.

  Rafe seemed to sense the change in my mood because he brushed a wayward hair from my cheek and said quietly, �
��He would understand.”

  Yes. I wasn’t here for a family reunion—not really. I was here to stop August from taking more innocent lives. I was a Trojan horse of sorts. Rafe was right—Elder Sam would approve.

  “Is there someone I can ask about getting powdered?” I asked.

  Tyne smiled, seemingly pleased that I’d relented. “Her name is Rebekkah and she’ll be thrilled to take care of you.”

  I cut a quick glance at Rafe. “Would you mind?”

  “Are you kidding? I’d love to see you in glitter.”

  Tyne chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Only the exposed bits, I’m afraid.” He pointed across the large reception hall to a balcony. “If you fly up to the next level and straight down the first corridor, you’ll find the vanity room.”

  “The vanity room,” I echoed. “Sage would love that.”

  “Come, friend,” Tyne said to Rafe. “I can keep you entertained in the meantime.”

  Rafe’s eyes flicked over me, round and worried. I knew he was concerned about leaving me on my own.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. I faced Tyne. “How long should it take?”

  “No more than fifteen minutes unless you’re a stickler,” Tyne said.

  “If you don’t see me in twenty minutes, come and find me,” I said, and Rafe nodded.

  I followed Tyne’s directions and landed in front of the door conveniently marked ‘Vanity.’ The door was open so I flew inside. A young seraph with golden curls sat on a cushioned bench, gossiping with a flame-haired friend.

  “…And then he said he had no intention of marrying her. Can you believe that?” She stopped abruptly when she saw me and her face colored. “Oh, my stars.”

  The other seraph stared at me, slack-jawed. “You’re her.”

  “I’m Cassia. I understand one of you is Rebekkah and that you can powder me.” I mustered an air of confidence.

  Slowly, the seraph with the golden curls rose to her feet. “I’m Rebekkah.” She dropped to one knee and lowered her head. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t mean to be gossiping in your presence.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. This was the first time someone had actually dropped to a knee. I cleared my throat and tried to sound self-assured. “You may rise.”

  Rebekkah sprang back to her feet. “I have several powders to choose from. Do you have one in mind? I’m partial to Cotton Candy.” She paused and lowered her head again. “But I won’t presume to tell you which one is best.”

  “Cotton Candy sounds delicious…I mean, perfect,” I said.

  Rebekkah zipped over to the vanity and spun the chair around to face me. “Have a seat, Your Highness. We don’t want to keep your subjects waiting.”

  The redhead was still fixated on me. “Would it be weird if I stayed to watch?”

  Rebekkah glowered at her. “I’m only applying glitter. Don’t be intrusive. What would the queen say?”

  I tilted my head to look at her. “What would the queen say?”

  Rebekkah dabbed a light liquid on my face that immediately dried. “Are you asking what she’s like?” She jerked her chin. “Jonelle, close the door.”

  Jonelle flew to the door and pushed it closed before returning to the bench. “The queen is very beautiful,” she said. “I hope I look half as good when I’m her age.”

  “You won’t,” Rebekkah said. She kept her focus on my face, applying a layer of powder with a small, soft brush.

  “I don’t mind how she looks,” I said. “What’s she like? Is she nice? Does she treat you well?”

  Rebekkah snorted. “Why would you care?” She smoothed the powder and I watched with interest as it dissolved into the bare skin of my forearms.

  “I’d like to know what kind of rulers they are,” I said. “If they’re kind.”

  Rebekkah shrugged. “I mean, the queen has her preferences and expects us to follow her instructions to the letter.” She paused. “I suppose that’s fair, being that she’s the queen and all.”

  “And the king?” I prodded.

  “We don’t deal with him as much,” Jonelle said. “They’re very much a couple though.”

  Rebekkah smudged more powder under my eyes. “I’m too young to remember your mother—didn’t live in the palace then—but I’ve heard she was a real spitfire when she was young.”

  Not enough of one, apparently, or my life story would be markedly different.

  “Your wings are amazing,” Jonelle said. She rested her chin on the tops of her closely drawn knees. “I wish mine were darker.”

  “I’m not actually sure if I inherited them from my mother or my father,” I said. “Some of the shakti demon ancestors had wings too.”

  “I bet they’re a blend of both,” Rebekkah said.

  “Like me. I have the shape of my mother’s eyebrows, but my father’s color,” Jonelle said.

  “Your eyebrows have the shape that I give them once every two weeks,” Rebekkah said.

  “Liar!” Jonelle pointed an angry finger at her friend. “It’s every four weeks maximum.”

  Rebekkah spun me around to face the mirror. “What do you think?”

  I gazed at my reflection. The glitter was a mixture of pale pinks and blues. “It’s very pretty. Thank you.”

  “I’ve powdered the long-lost princess,” Rebekkah said with a contented sigh. “I’ll be boasting about this for weeks. You can be sure of that.”

  “Enjoy the ball,” Jonelle said. “If you’re lucky enough to meet Zadkiel, be sure to dance with him.” She clasped her hands at her cheek. “His moves are inspirational.”

  Rebekkah gave her a wry look. “Like you would know.”

  “How do I get the glitter off afterward?” I asked.

  “It fades on its own,” Rebekkah said. “It’ll be gone by morning.”

  I flew out of the chair. “Thank you so much.”

  “Put in a good word with the queen, would you?” Rebekkah asked. “She’s had Tatiana doing her hair for years and the seraph is losing her touch. I’d be a much better stylist for her.”

  I smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  I left the room and flew back to the main floor of the palace. The ball was in full swing now. Wings pressed against wings and I spotted a few glittering faces among the guests. I gulped, knowing that any moment I might come face-to-face with a grandparent or an aunt or uncle. The same grandparents that my mother was too ashamed to confide in about her demon lover or her pregnancy. Tonight suddenly felt far more complicated than simply confronting August about mass murder.

  Rafe met me at the entrance to the ballroom. “Color me impressed. I didn’t think they could improve perfection.”

  “Tell the truth. Does it look stupid?”

  He gazed at me with adoration. “You could never look stupid, Cassia.” He offered me his arm. “Shall we, Your Highness?”

  I elbowed him in the side. “Don’t you dare call me that.” I linked my arm through his and we entered the busy ballroom. It didn’t take long to identify the king and queen. They held court in the far corner of the room, hovering slightly above the crowd. As we maneuvered through the seraphim, I was able to get a closer look. My grandmother was exquisite. Despite Rebekkah’s complaint, I thought her pale hair looked elegant pulled back in a tight chignon. Her skin appeared surprisingly smooth beneath the layer of glitter. The king was about an inch taller than his wife, with a neatly cropped beard and piercing blue eyes.

  “You see them, don’t you?” Rafe asked.

  I nodded, unable to speak. Although the logical part of my brain knew that this ball was in my honor, there was a part of me—the abandoned part of me—that worried they’d reject me on sight. That they’d decide my mother was right to give me away because I didn’t belong in a place like Dominion among the seraphim. It didn’t matter that I had no desire to be here. The fear of rejection wasn’t rational, but it was very real.

  I felt the eyes of the crowd on me as I approached my grandparents. I knew
the exact moment when my grandmother noticed me. It was impossible not to—a black swan in a lake of white ones. I forced a smile and prayed that I didn’t vomit on anyone’s wings.

  “Your Majesty,” I said, and bowed my head.

  “My darling granddaughter,” the queen said. “I hardly know what to say.” She pressed her hand against her chest, over her heart.

  “Me neither.”

  The king edged closer. Tears shimmered in his bright eyes. “You are so much like her.”

  “This is my companion, Rafe,” I said.

  “Another halfling,” the king said, with the faintest whiff of disapproval.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Rafe said. “I’m a Watcher in the mortal city of Philadelphia.”

  The queen touched her fingers to her lips, seemingly overwhelmed. “I didn’t expect your hair.”

  My fingers flew instinctively to the tendrils that framed my face. I was accustomed to odd looks because of my white hair, but the queen’s expression wasn’t judgmental. It was more like joyful surprise.

  “I always thought I had the human albino trait,” I said.

  “Perhaps it’s a seraph albino trait,” the queen said. “We’ve always referred to it as the Kiss of the Angel.” She studied me with a soft smile. “It means you’re very special, Cassia.”

  “She doesn’t need white hair to tell me that,” Rafe said.

  I thought of my unusual powers—my hand blasters and the blue flames from my forehead, or as Elder Sam sometimes called it—my third eye. “I hate to ask, but are there other…unique traits I might have?”

  The king looked at me with keen interest. “You seem to have a specific one in mind. Tell us.”

  “Two, actually.” I explained them.

  A vague smile touched the king’s lips. “If you possess this blue fire within you, it means you’ve been very blessed indeed.”

  “Is it the same celestial fire that protects my sword?” Rafe asked.

  “They both originate from the same eternal flame,” the queen said. “The mystical fire has burned here since the beginning of time. History tells us that we were created from that flame and our bodies are returned via that flame, but only the strongest seraphim can integrate the fire into their physical forms.”