Demonspawn Academy: Trial Three

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Demonspawn Academy: Trial Three Page 16

by Annabel Chase


  I took an exaggerated step forward. “And what about the humans in New Hope and Trenton? Do humans only deserve to be kept safe when it fits in with your master plan?”

  August’s thumb absently rubbed the hilt of his sheathed sword. “I have no idea what you mean.”

  I flashed an engaging smile. “Come on, August. It’s just the two of us here, so you might as well go all in with me. When did you realize that Princess Helena’s lost child was tied to the prophecy?” An idea bloomed. A dying princess crying out for her loved ones. “The king mentioned her feverish delusions to you, didn’t he?”

  “He dismissed them as gibberish, but I began to wonder, so I decided to investigate,” August said. “I remembered Prince Tarquin’s visits to the palace. The princess was at an impressionable age at the time. It wasn’t unfathomable that she’d be foolish enough to develop an attachment to him.”

  “It obviously took years for you to piece it together,” I said.

  “Obviously, I had no idea that the princess’s expelled bodyguard would have taken you under his wing. When I heard a rumor that he was involved with a secret school for demonspawn…” His lip curled in a malevolent smile. “Well, you can imagine how curious I was to know whether you were with him.”

  “And you figured the book would tell you.”

  “It would have been the proof I needed to persuade the king and queen to claim you and bring you here.” He tapped the pads of his fingertips together. “For them, it would be a reconciliation. For me, a chance to groom you for your destiny. In the end, the coven helped me to accomplish the same goal. Those witches can prove useful on occasion.”

  “Do you think my grandparents will thank you for dragging Dominion into an unnecessary war with the Nether?”

  “What makes you think there will be a war?” he asked.

  I couldn’t hold back a short, barking laugh. “Do you think you’ll pull back the magic curtain and introduce me? And then what? The king will agree to walk away from power because the prophecy says so?”

  August tugged on his tunic. “Perhaps he’ll decide he can avoid death by agreeing to the transfer of power. Humans in your silly country do it every four years—a peaceful transition of power. Why not the Nether?”

  “Because the king has been trying to avoid that particular prophecy his whole life,” I said. “He likes his throne. He won’t give it up without a fight.”

  “One way or another, Your Highness, the king will meet his doom because of you.” August retrieved a cloth from his pocket and dabbed at his shining brow. “It has been foretold. Your mother should have raised you here. Giving you away was no less than treason.”

  A slow burning fury coiled in my stomach. I wanted nothing more than to unleash my power, until I glanced up and looked into my mother’s tender eyes. I remembered how she looked at the mantel, one hand resting protectively on her belly. She wouldn’t want me to become an agent of anger.

  “My mother sent me away to protect me. Because she loved me.”

  “Then why not send you to the Nether to be raised by your father instead of leaving you to your fate in the mortal realm?”

  “Because she knew about the prophecy,” I said. “She knew it was too dangerous to send me there, especially while I was young and defenseless. She knew there’d be someone like you there, wanting to use me.”

  “You’re nothing but an instrument,” August said. “I was hoping to tune you and play you nicely, but blunt force it is.”

  “There’s still something I can’t figure out,” I said. “How did you do it?”

  He squinted at me. “Which part? The magic mark?” He made a dismissive sound. “Quite simple when you have the right contacts.”

  “Are these the same contacts that you used to destroy New Hope and Trenton?” I clenched my itching hands. Killing August in the middle of my own ball in Dominion would not be a wise decision.

  August tugged his earlobe. “I sincerely doubt that. Hell on earth isn’t in their wheelhouse.”

  “Are you telling me you had nothing to do with those attacks?”

  “Humans have no place in my plans,” he said. “I have no need to spill their blood.”

  This made no sense. He was laying his cards on the table. There was no reason to lie.

  Which meant he was telling the truth.

  In the end, it didn’t change anything. Even if August wasn’t responsible for the atrocities in the mortal realm, he was still responsible for the deaths of innocents, including Mariska. The seraph set that chain of events in motion when he set his sights on the Book of Admissions.

  “But you still intend to spill blood,” I said. “Does it matter which veins you slice?”

  “My plan involves marching you straight into the heart of the Nether. The king will have to decide whether he’s willing to sacrifice tens of thousands of his subjects to keep his throne. Any blood that’s spilled will be on his hands.”

  “He will,” I said, more to myself. I knew from my interactions with the king that he would be more than willing to fight. Bloodshed in the mortal realm. Bloodshed in the Nether. Dominion and Faerie would likely follow.

  “It makes no difference to me,” August said. “The end result is the same.”

  “Your entire plan rests on the assumption that I’d rule the Nether in the king’s place and allow seraphim to what…rule over the demons?” I shook my head in amazement. “You realize that I don’t share your belief that seraphim are superior beings, right? If you’d wanted me to have that attitude, then one of you should have made sure I was raised in Dominion.”

  August’s flat eyes glittered with malice. “You’d be nothing but a puppet. The throne would be controlled by me.”

  “Why would you even want to rule over the Nether?” I asked. “You hate demons.”

  “I can’t rule here, can I?” August practically shouted. “I don’t have noble blood. Seven thrones and I have no claim to any of them, no matter how much I prove myself.”

  August was desperate for power in whatever form he could obtain it. “You wouldn’t stop there, though, would you? Once you had your demon army, what would stop you from taking all seven thrones in Dominion?”

  August flashed those straight teeth. “It was interesting to hear about the destruction in those mortal towns. I began to imagine what I’d be capable of once the Nether was mine.”

  I crossed my arms. “You can’t force me to take the throne.”

  His mouth turned up at the corners. “Oh, I’m certain I can find a way to persuade you to get that prophecy moving. Everyone has a vulnerability and it seems you brought yours with you tonight.”

  Fear radiated from my core. “You wouldn’t dare,” I said.

  “His skin can bear a magic mark as easily as Jessup’s,” August said. “He won’t even realize it’s there until it’s too late. If you do as you’re told, I won’t activate it.”

  “No!”

  “Then I suppose it’s time to commit to the cause,” August said.

  “I’ll tell the king and queen everything,” I said quickly. “Ana too…”

  “Ana is with you, is she? I should have guessed.” He tucked away the cloth. “You can’t prove any of it and your word will be no good against mine. I’ve served the royal family faithfully for years. I’ll claim you’re an agent of the King of the Nether, that he got to you first. There’s no shortage of the number of webs I can weave.”

  “I must say, August, I don’t think aunty and uncle would appreciate your efforts on their behalf.” Zadkiel peeled himself away from the shadows, surprising us both. He held another drink in his hand and his cheeks sported pleasant pink circles.

  “Where in Dominion’s name did you come from?” August demanded.

  “I’m an introvert at heart,” Zadkiel said. “I can only take so much socialization until I need the quiet to recharge. I always choose the northern gallery because no one comes here. I also like to visit my family.” He raised a glass to my mother.
“Aunt Helena was very dear to me. She encouraged my opinions, unlike so many others.”

  “Why lurk here like a hungry mongrel?” August asked. “Why not greet us?”

  “When I saw you two wandering this way…Well, I thought it was an interesting enough pairing to slide into the shadows and listen.” Zadkiel grinned. “And I’m so glad I did. Juicy, juicy.”

  August sneered at the young seraph. “And do you truly think they’ll believe a dilettante like you over me? You’re a waste, Zad. Everyone in the Silver City knows it. The king and queen would never heed your word over mine.”

  “Ah, but you’ve forgotten their prejudices, my friend,” Zadkiel said. “They may serve you and your cause most of the time, but right now, it seems they’ll serve me. And I’m not above using them to my advantage when lives depend upon it.”

  August’s jaw tightened. “I’m their most esteemed advisor.”

  “And if you had royal blood, I have no doubt that you’d emerge the victor in this little spat.” Zadkiel casually examined his nails. “As it stands, I am the one blessed with the royal pedigree.”

  In one slick move, August unsheathed his sword. “You’re both unarmed, I see. It wouldn’t take much to control the narrative.”

  A shudder ripped through me, but Zadkiel remained surprisingly calm. “You forget yourself, August.” He nodded toward me. “Did the witches bother to tell you about her abilities? She isn’t going to bring the king to his doom with a smile.” He winked at me. “Infectious though it may be.”

  August glanced uncomfortably at my hand. “She’s no threat to us, only to the King of the Nether. It has been foretold.”

  “Put down the sword, August,” Zadkiel said. “And I’ll see that your life is spared.”

  “So that I can rot in a Dominion dungeon? I’d rather take my chances with you.” He lashed out with his blade and struck Zadkiel’s chest. Blood streaked the younger seraph’s formalwear.

  My hands sparked and I raised a palm. A powerful pulse of energy blew from my hand and slammed into August. The seraph flew backward in the air and smashed into my mother’s portrait.

  “Zadkiel, are you hurt?” I asked.

  “Only a flesh wound. It will heal,” the seraph said, seemingly unconcerned. He set his glass on the floor and strode across the gallery. He gripped August by the neck before he could recover from the blast. “If you can keep him from running off, Your Highness, allow me to summon the guards.”

  I rubbed my hands together in an effort to calm the pulsing energy. “I can hold him,” I said. “If the hands don’t work, I always have the option of testing the Flames of Judgment.” I tapped my forehead.

  August stared at me with wide eyes as Zadkiel rushed through the gallery. “The prophecy will come to pass. It has been foretold.”

  “Even if it does, you won’t reap any benefit from it,” I said. “You’ll be too busy rotting away in a dungeon.” Justice for Mariska and the others.

  “You may have the blood of a seraph, but you have the black soul of a demon,” he snarled.

  “At least I have a soul,” I snapped.

  True to his word, Zadkiel brought the guards to escort August away. He assured me that the king and queen would be given a full report and August would receive the punishment he deserved. I started back toward the ballroom to find Rafe. I felt spent, although I suspected it was more from emotional energy than anything else. I turned the corner of the gallery and nearly flew into Rafe.

  “There you are.” His handsome features were etched with relief. “What happened?”

  “August is being taken to the dungeon until they can pass judgment.” Something in his eyes made me uneasy. “Rafe, what is it?”

  “I’m afraid there’s an issue. We need to go.”

  Alarm bells rang in my head. “Another attack?”

  “Thankfully no, but we need to get to Hotel Franklin as quickly as we can. Crest is there. He says it’s urgent.”

  I glanced toward the ballroom, where the king and queen still lingered. Hopefully, there’d be time to get to know them outside of August’s manipulations, if that was what I wanted. I’d waited eighteen years. I could wait another few days.

  I reached for Rafe’s hand and turned back toward the door. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rafe and I hurried past the fountain and into the lobby of Hotel Franklin. Given the urgency of the message, I half expected to see a trail of corpses. Balthazar stood in front of the statue of Benjamin Franklin with his back to us, talking to Crest.

  “Thank the devil, they’re here,” Crest said. His face was haggard and worn, and his body drooped from apparent exhaustion.

  I rushed forward. “What’s happened?”

  Balthazar drank in my disheveled appearance. “I should ask the same of you. Where have you two been? That dress makes you look like Cinderella after a midnight bender.”

  “I eliminated a threat,” I said, “but it sounds like we have another one to contend with.”

  “The Nether king,” Balthazar said, emotionless. “It seems his paranoia is getting the better of him again.”

  Crest couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “He’s thrown Yara in the dungeon for treason and is rounding up her supporters. He plans a public execution tomorrow.”

  My nails dug into Rafe’s arm. “Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know. I came here as soon as I heard the news,” Crest said. “I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Does the prince know?” I asked. “Maybe he’ll come back to the palace and try to reason with his father.” It felt strange to ask about my father.

  Crest shook his head. “I’ve sent word and I’m sure others are trying to reach him as well. I knew where I could find you, so I raced here.”

  I hugged him. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate you thinking of me.”

  Balthazar looked at me expectantly. “What’s your plan?”

  “We have to go to the Nether and prevent the execution,” I said.

  “Do you?” The vampire seemed unconvinced. “If you don’t go, what happens?”

  “More needless deaths,” I said.

  “And the king marches on the mortal realm before heading for Dominion,” Rafe added.

  I couldn’t leave Yara to her fate, not after everything she’d been through. One way or another, I had to stop the king.

  “Rafe, get Liesel. I’ll go to the academy and round up my kenzoku.”

  “Do you think they’ll want to return to the Nether?” Rafe asked. “I don’t think they enjoyed their stay last time.”

  “They got to ride dragons. They’ll be fine,” I said.

  “Presumably Yara has her own supporters in the Nether she can rally,” Balthazar said.

  “Did you hear Crest?” I asked, my heart pounding. “The king has taken them all prisoner. He’s going to kill his daughter.”

  “I find it best to steer clear of family drama,” the vampire said.

  “What does it matter to you whether we go to the Nether to fight? You’ll be here straddling the fence, enjoying your undead life, the same as you’ve done for centuries.”

  The vampire fell silent for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than usual. “Your Elder Sam wasn’t the only one to snatch halflings from the jaws of death. I’m quite invested in some of your kenzoku. I would like to see them graduate from the academy and flourish.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. It never occurred to me that Balthazar would feel an attachment to the cambions he’d saved over the years. It seemed more of an afterthought, a byproduct of his normal underground activities.

  “I’m sorry, Balthazar,” I said. “It’s not like I want my friends to come to any harm, but I can’t do this alone.”

  “You have Liesel and me,” Rafe said.

  “Not me, I’m afraid,” Crest said. “I don’t have much in the way of fighting skills. That’s why I have the job I do. I’m plenty good at lurking
.”

  “That you are,” Balthazar said, giving him a pat on the back.

  “I don’t know that you’re enough, Rafe,” I said. “You saw what the king is capable of, and we’ll be fighting him on his own turf. Our odds are already in the gutter.”

  Balthazar glanced upward at the statue of his old friend, Benjamin Franklin. “I know someone else whose odds were stacked against him. A rebellious set of ragtag colonies against a king and his empire. No one would have bet on the colonists, would they?”

  “No, but they weren’t alone,” I said. “They forged alliances. They strategized. We don’t have time for any of that. Yara is in imminent danger.”

  “Could you not forge an alliance?” Balthazar asked.

  I looked to Rafe for guidance. “We’re trying to avoid a multi-realm war,” I said. “If we ask Dominion for warriors, we’ll be doing the very thing we’re trying to prevent.”

  Worry simmered behind the vampire’s typically cold and lifeless eyes. “I don’t enjoy the idea of another war, certainly not one that spills over into the mortal realm, as one between Dominion and the Nether would likely do. It would be bad for everyone.”

  Rafe regarded me. “You know I’ll support whatever you decide.”

  “And so will I.” Liesel bounded into the lobby, toting more weapons than someone of her size could conceivably carry.

  “Someone’s ready to charge the light brigade,” Balthazar said.

  “Rafe’s text had an end of days vibe,” Liesel said. “I came prepared.”

  I came to a decision, although it created a frightening prospect for the rest of us. “I think we should leave the seraphim out of it.” After what I’d seen at the ball, I wasn’t sure it was the best time to involve them. They seemed to be on the verge of a generational shift in attitude toward other species. If they were dragged into a war in other realms and suffered casualties at the hands of demons, that could set their progress back decades, if not centuries.

  Rafe looked at me. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s the right call. Get your kenzoku and we’ll meet at the Poconos.” The closest entrance to the Nether was on a mountaintop there.

 

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