Flickers of Flame Page 3

  A murmur rose in the group. Someone muttered, “Boring.”

  “But I promise this one will be different,” Shonda said. I had to give her credit—she was good at building suspense. Despite not wanting her to notice me, I couldn’t help leaning forward to hear what she had to say. “Instead of guarding senators during closed-door hearings or private events, this task has the potential for some real action.”

  Clio tugged on my arm excitedly. “See?” she whispered.

  I attempted to match her enthusiasm when I nodded, even as my stomach clenched. Action was no doubt synonymous with fighting, and the only beings angels fought with were demons.

  Someone deeper within the group voiced my unasked question: “What kind of action?”

  “Yeah,” added another, “what’s the exercise?”

  “Well,” Shonda said, seemingly elated to have inside knowledge, “I was passing through the instructors’ lounge, and I overheard two professors—I can’t reveal who—discussing a high-stakes retrieval of some incredibly sensitive items. This kind of operation requires a lot of manpower because there’s always the potential for these things to fall into the wrong hands.”

  My stomach jolted. What sort of sensitive items could she mean? A prickle of excitement shot down my spine. If the Languo-B4 outbreak had spread beyond Amberg, it was possible they were tapping into a cache of medicine to deal with it. If I could pass along such a location to Liza, it could be a game-changer for our whole operation.

  “And what makes you think they’ll tap us for this mission?” Clio asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  Shonda’s eyes narrowed momentarily as they swept over me to locate the speaker. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? The timeline matches. And with so many companies—like my mother’s—out of the kis on peace envoys it’s only natural that they would tap cadets for the mission.”

  Clio’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t know. That seems the kind of mission they’d want seasoned warriors for. It’s more likely we would fill in for less critical roles when they pulled more highly trained soldiers for the sensitive mission.”

  A flicker of uncertainty flitted across Shonda’s face, but in a blink it evaporated. She folded her arms over her chest. “Or maybe that’s just what you want us all to think so we won’t sign up for the tryouts. There’s always a limit to who they can bring, and especially for a mission like this, they won’t bring someone simply because of their title.”

  Her words were sharp with accusation, but Clio’s expression gave no indication she noticed. “I think anyone who’s interested in the experience should try out. It’s important to see what things are like outside the walls of the academy. But don’t be disappointed if you end up standing guard during closed-door meetings between senators is all I’m saying.”

  Shonda held Clio’s gaze for a long second before Clio turned and headed back toward our table. I followed close behind. “I can’t believe her,” she grumbled as we walked. “It’s my own fault, though. She’ll never stop spreading outlandish theories if people keep listening.”

  I tilted my head. “Do I need to be here for this conversation?”

  She sighed. “It’s just… I don’t like that she’s trying to make the mission out to be more than what it probably is. I bet there are at least a dozen people who will sign up just because Shonda said there could be danger. That’s not the right reason to go on one of these missions. You don’t go to prove yourself or for the glory of battle; you go because it’s what we’re supposed to do. We’re supposed to keep order. Yeah, maybe it’s boring to make sure no one attacks a senate building, but if we’re not there to protect our leaders in the event of an attack, our society could crumble. I wish more people understood that.”

  The bites of pancake I’d eaten when we were still at our table churned in my stomach. No matter how likable Clio seemed on the outside, I had to remember that inside, she was an angel. And, like all of her kind, she firmly believed that the people they trusted to rule over the ethereals were good. And there was nothing I could do to convince her otherwise, because even if I told horror stories about how demons were left to die without access to basic medical supplies, it wouldn’t matter. After all, what’s the life of a demon worth?

  But even though Clio seemed sure that Shonda’s assertion about the training exercise was wrong, I couldn’t discount the rumor entirely. What if there was truth to it? This was an opportunity too good to pass up. I might never get a chance like this again.

  Drawing back my shoulders, I turned to Clio. “You’re right. Even though the exercise will probably be exactly what Bridger was describing, it’s important to have the experience.”

  Clio smiled. “That’s the spirit.” She peered past me toward the line. “Let’s finish breakfast, then I’ll go with you to sign up.”

  I smiled back as we resumed our course through the cafeteria. It didn’t matter if Shonda’s stories were correct or if the mission was going to be as dull as Bridger predicted. The more time I spent around actual members of the Guard, the more likely I was to overhear something that could help Liza and my people. I had to do whatever I could to earn a spot on this field mission.

  Chapter Four

  At dinner, an instructor Clio identified as Professor Sawyer announced that they would hold tryouts five days from today, and that the exercise would take place two days after that. Several students attempted to wheedle more information out of him—including how many cadets they would choose for the training. I held my breath, but the unhelpful answer was a coy, “A small team.”

  “That’s not an answer,” I grumbled as Professor Sawyer handed the microphone he’d been speaking into back to one of the cafeteria workers.

  “In his defense, he probably doesn’t know anything specific,” Nate said from the chair beside me. He’d slipped into the spot a few minutes ago when Clio got up to use the bathroom. Since he and Bridger had been engaged in a spirited conversation at the time, it hadn’t seemed like a big deal. But Clio was back now, and he remained seated beside me.

  My skin flushed at his nearness, but I tried to ignore the sensation. “What happens if it’s a really small number? Like four?”

  “Why? You planning to bump one of us out of the running?” Nate waggled his eyebrows.

  “Ooh! Pick me!” Bridger called.

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think either of you have to worry about me.”

  The mirth from Nate’s expression evaporated. “Hey. Give yourself some credit. You held your own against Shonda—and she was not going easy on you. Don’t stress yourself out over this. If you get selected—great. If you don’t, there’s always next time.”

  Part of me knew he was right. Their last field experience was a month ago. If that was any indication of the normal spacing for these events, another would come by in a matter of weeks. But I didn’t want to have to wait that long to learn something else that might help the demons beyond these gates. Derek had spent the last month at ground zero for the L-B4 outbreak. I’d spent it attending classes and eating three abundant meals per day.

  “I need to go on this mission,” I said, holding Nate’s gaze. “How many times have they not picked you for one of these things?”

  Nate’s eyes dropped to the table, verifying my assumption. He had always made the cut.

  “That’s not a fair comparison, though,” Bridger piped up. “Nate’s been training longer than anyone here—even some professors, probably. Same for Clio. They’ve got an edge over everyone.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “And how many times have they passed you over?”

  Bridger frowned. “That’s not fair, either. These things don’t pop up at regular intervals. I was training for at least a year before there was a special training opportunity. And before you ask, they’ve picked Thor for every one he’s tried out for, too. But he’s a special case. Thor was born a bad-ass. It’s in his blood.”

  Nate and Clio sucked in breaths, and Thor’s fork froze halfway to his mout
h. Bridger’s eyes widened and he stammered, “Well, what I mean by that, of course, is that Thor is built for battle. He’s… uh… He’s a fine specimen of a warrior.”

  A weird vibe descended over the table, but I couldn’t discern the root cause. Clio stared resolutely at her plate, and Nate sat stock-still until Thor’s fork resumed its path to his mouth.

  “Anyway,” I said slowly when it was clear no one else was going to speak. “I’m just saying it’ll look bad if the newest Keeper isn’t picked for this mission.” I glanced at Nate. “Optics.”

  The last bit of tension finally trained from his shoulders. “It’ll be fine. I don’t think you fully grasp how the community sees you. You’re the first Aether Blade Keeper since—”

  “Since the original Aether Keeper died,” I finished for him, recalling the detail from my independent study with Lydia Sweeting, the school librarian. “But don’t you think that’s all the more reason I should—you know—be amazing?”

  Nate squinted. “Who said you aren’t?”

  Warmth flooded my cheeks and I looked away, unsure how to respond. I knew he meant the words to bolster my mood and self-esteem, but part of me desperately wanted there to be more to them. Despite how many times a day I told myself my attraction to Nate was due solely to his good looks, part of me wanted to believe he thought I was amazing.

  He cleared his throat. “We’ve got five days. Maybe you could work in some extra training sessions with Anders. That could build your confidence.”

  I shrugged. Spending one-on-one time with Anders was as appealing as spending quality time with Shonda. “Maybe.”

  After dinner, I excused myself before anyone could come up with some excuse for us all to hang out. Even if it was just sitting by the fountain in the quad before heading to our dorms, the Keepers liked to wind down together before saying their goodnights. Usually, I was happy to join them, but today my mind was focused on a plan of attack. I already had a list of things to write down—along with the people most likely to possess the information I needed. If I was going to stand a chance at this tryout, I had to know exactly what to expect.

  The dorm itself was mercifully empty as I made my way up to the third floor. Most people, it seemed, were still at the dining hall. I was glad for it. Every time I thought I’d gotten used to the endless stares that followed me wherever I went, someone would whisper or giggle as I passed by, sending an electric shock of nerves through my system.

  I was nearly to my door when a voice made me jump out of my skin.

  “Hey, you got a minute?”

  I pressed my hand to my chest to keep my heart from bursting through it. I spun to find Maisie strolling toward me. “Way to sneak up on somebody!”

  She lifted a shoulder. “What can I say? I’m acing Weapons and Stealth. Look, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I ambushed you with an interview on your first day. In hindsight, I probably should have, you know, asked if you wanted to be interviewed before I started doing it. So, are we cool?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. So far, besides the Keepers and Shonda, she was the only cadet at Blakethorne who had screwed up the courage to talk to me. I appreciated how she’d apologized for her actions without actually saying she was sorry. This girl had spirit, I’d give her that.

  “Yeah, we’re cool.” I glanced over her shoulder. Although the hall was still clear, I could hear footfalls echoing up the stairwell. “Is that all?”

  Maisie took a step closer, her gaze softening. “I just wanted to check in with you. You had an… interesting start to your time here.”

  I heaved a sigh. I should’ve known her opening salvo of not apologizing about her first attempted interview would be an introduction to her next. The real surprise was that it had taken her so long to approach me. “Maisie, I’m really not in the mood to—”

  She held up her hands. “Off the record. I’m not going to write an article. And I know you’ve got your teammates, but sometimes the people closest to you can be the hardest ones to talk to.”

  Voices joined the footsteps on the stairs. Any moment, girls would spill into the hallway. If I told Maisie I didn’t want to talk, I didn’t think she’s press the matter. But who better to ask about the field mission tryouts than the girl who had probably written articles about them since she started at Blakethorne.

  “Off the record,” I repeated, opening my door.

  Maisie followed me over the threshold and closed us inside as the first clear voices rang through the hall. I took a seat on the edge of my mattress while Maisie dragged my desk chair across the room to sit facing me. “How’s your leg?”

  I snorted. Even if the conversation was off the record, it seemed she couldn’t silence her inner reporter. “I’ve got a clean bill of health.”

  She pressed her lips together. “Ugh. I want to ask you about what happened that day, but the headmaster literally forbade it.”

  The news didn’t surprise me. Headmaster Kemp had issued similar warnings to me and the Keepers. She probably told Shonda to keep the events of the challenge under wraps, too, but I couldn’t see her as particularly keen on describing her loss. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that Kemp’s concern was for Shonda’s pride. To vie for the Aether Blade’s loyalty, the headmaster gave Shonda and me angel-fire relics. Shonda used hers to stab me in the leg.

  “Believe it or not, Shonda’s changed since you got here. Don’t get me wrong—she’s always been a striver. Always looked for whatever angle she could find to have a leg up on other cadets. She didn’t get to be a floor adviser based on grades alone. She’s a kiss-up.” Maisie shrugged. “It’s pretty common around here, actually. Everyone’s looking for the thing that will set them apart from everyone else.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Like running the school’s newspaper?”

  Maisie chuckled, shaking her head. “I get how it might look that way, but that’s not why I do it. I do it because I love it. When I leave here, I don’t want to join the Guard and patrol neighborhoods or keep watch at the border towns. I want to be a reporter.”

  I tipped my head. “If that’s what you want to do with your life, all this training seems like a waste of time. Did your parents just send you against your will?”

  Maisie sighed. “No. Well, not exactly. They’re both city clerks. So were their parents, and their parents before them. It’s honest work, but it’s not anything that’s going to win you any accolades. They wanted more for their kid. Being a guard is prestigious. Especially for someone like me.”

  I fought back my instinct to argue about the prestige of guard members and focused on her other statement instead. “Someone like you?”

  She dipped her head. “I’m not a Warrior, I’m a Messenger.” Her gaze flicked to the door.

  I twisted to follow her gaze. “Are you expecting someone?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. Reflex. Let’s just say it wouldn’t be the first time someone asked me to leave after learning my lineage.”

  I tried to understand what she was telling me. I could see an angel not wanting to socialize with a demon or a nephilim, but Messengers were just another class of angel.

  “But I should have realized you wouldn’t care,” Maisie continued. “You and Clio seem to get along just fine.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “To be honest, I was kind of hoping the Aether Blade would choose another Messenger. It might make things a little easier on the other Messenger cadets. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised your Blade chose another Warrior.”

  My heart thudded against my chest. She thought I was a Warrior angel? The idea was downright laughable. I wanted to ask her where she got her information, but I stopped short, remembering the documents Headmaster Kemp had made me sign before allowing me to leave City Hall. The agreement forbade me to discuss my supposed lineage as a fallen angel.

  I hadn’t given the directive much thought at the time—beyond being thankful for how laughably easy it was for a demon to slip in among the angels. B
ut if the powers that be were letting everyone think I was from a Warrior lineage, they must have their reasons. I just needed to discern what they were.

  “So, you didn’t exactly answer my question before. If you have no interest in being a guard, why are you here?”

  Maisie chewed on her bottom lip for a few seconds. “To prove I can be, I guess. To show that a Messenger angel can fight alongside Warriors.” The corner of her mouth quirked. “I was nine when the Ignis Blade chose Clio. I was excited because she was a girl. At first I thought that was why so many people were angry it chose her. But then my mom explained it was because she was a Messenger and they didn’t think she was worthy to be a Keeper. And then a couple years later, people were mad again because Clio was starting school here. That opened the door to let other Messengers try out.”

  I nodded, understanding where Maisie’s story was going. “Your parents wanted you to have an opportunity they never did.”

  “Yeah. And I figured having a bunch of contacts within the Guard after graduation would come in handy.” She offered a half smile.

  A rush of camaraderie bubbled up within me. Maisie was here for her own reasons, just like me. Sure, her reasons were different, but it was nice to know I wasn’t the only person here who wasn’t counting the days before graduation and admission into the Guard. Talking with her felt somehow safe.

  “Are you going to try out for the field experience? I seem to remember you doing really well in the mixed sparring competition. You made it to round six, right?”

  Maisie offered a small smile. “Yeah, I guess I did all right.”

  All right was an understatement. Maisie had made it to the top eight of a pool of five hundred. “For someone who’s not interested in entering the Guard, you’re an awesome fighter.”

  She shrugged. “I begged my parents to put me in combat classes after Clio became a Keeper. They finally found someone willing to take me on for one-on-one training. With all that attention, I got pretty good. It was never about the fighting, though. I wanted to do it because so many people seemed to think I couldn’t—or shouldn’t.”