Flickers of Flame Page 8

  I turned to the flag. This platform had taken us higher than I’d been before, but we were still several yards from the top of the scaffolding. “How do you suggest we do that?”

  He smiled again. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but do you trust me? I mean, I did just save your life.”

  I scoffed at the assertion. “Please. The fall wouldn’t have killed me.”

  A cheer rose in the crowd and I looked down at the field. One member of the red team had broken past the guards surrounding the scaffolding and started her ascent.

  My heart hammered against my chest. Unless the guards followed her, she would be up to the flagpole in a matter of minutes. If Thor had a plan, I was willing to listen. “I trust you.”

  He held out his arms at waist height, palms up. “Give me your hands.”

  I did as he said. “What’s the plan?”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m going to throw you.”

  “You’re going to what?”

  “Come on. This isn’t even the craziest thing you’ve done in the last five minutes. Just keep your eyes open and grab the pole.”

  The platform gears creaked. In a matter of seconds, we would plummet to the ground again, and unlike last time, there were no other floors racing up to meet us.

  I locked my gaze on Thor’s honey brown eyes. “Do it.”

  With a swiftness that drew the breath from my lungs, Thor spun in a tight circle. By the end of the first revolution, my legs lifted into the air. The gears creaked again, and I knew it was too late—we would be falling in a fraction of a second.

  But I didn’t fall. Thor’s powerful hands released their grip, and I sailed through the air like an arrow. My eyes stung and filled with tears, but I kept my focus on the golden flag as it flapped in the breeze.

  Twisting in midair, I turned my body just in time to grab hold of the slender metal pole. With shaking limbs, I climbed to the top and clenched the golden fabric in my fist.

  The crowd erupted in cheers, but it was the defeated cry of Cadet Berkley from ten feet below that brought a triumphant smile to my mouth.

  Chapter Eleven

  I was still flying high as an officer led Thor, me, and the red and blue teams out of the stadium and up a long flight of metal stairs that had been set up beside one bank of bleachers. It shook gently with each step, but it seemed more than capable of holding our weight. We moved steadily upward until we came to a door, which the officer held open.

  Thor and I were the last to enter the room, and when we did, I had to do a double-take. After taking the somewhat rickety journey up I expected our destination to be akin to the tent we had waited in before the trial, but what stood before me was a large, glittering room filled not only with students who had already completed the day’s task but with high-ranking military personnel in dress uniforms and several members of the senate.

  Including Chancellor Kingston.

  The chancellor’s presence wasn’t lost on Thor, who lifted his chin in the man’s direction. “Well, that’s new.”

  I tilted my head. “Is he not usually at these things?”

  “No way. They usually have some captains here—maybe a few colonels. But I’ve never seen Kingston at a trial like this. Maybe Shonda wasn’t so off base about this mission being important.” He nudged me with his elbow. “Or maybe he’s just here to see our newest Keeper in action.”

  The swell of sweetness that accompanied Thor’s unexpected touch was immediately drown out by a surge of unease. Could the chancellor really have put his official duties on hold just to watch me? The thought made my head swim.

  A woman in her early twenties wearing a black pair of pants and a white button-down shirt approached us, smiling, with a tray of ruby-colored drinks in fluted glasses. After an encouraging nod from Thor, I took a glass, as did he and the members of the red and blue teams.

  After a round of tepid congratulations, the other cadets broke off to locate their friends. I waited until they were out of earshot before leaning over to Thor. “What is all this? What’s going on?”

  He sipped from his glass. “Most cadets use this time to chat up the people who’ll decide our fate once we leave the academy.” He sighed heavily, taking another sip.

  “Sounds thrilling,” I said drily.

  “Some people think so. Personally, I’d rather let my actions speak for me, but I guess I’ve got an edge most others don’t.”

  “Being a Keeper,” I guessed.

  He nodded, draining his glass and setting it on a passing tray before picking up a replacement. “Have a sip before you head in. Takes the edge off all the smiling and making nice. I feel like you might need the help like I do.”

  I had trusted Thor throughout the trial and didn’t see the benefit in stopping now. I sipped from my glass cautiously. The drink was pleasant—fruity and sweet, but somehow sharp. I wasn’t sure how juice was supposed to help me feel better about inhabiting the same space as all these high-ranking angels, but it couldn’t hurt.

  Thor wove a path between groups of senators and colonels and generals. I stuck close to him, keeping my head down. But despite my precautions, I didn’t make it three steps before a colonel stepped into my path. Her blonde hair was gathered into a low ponytail, and her smile was polite, but perfunctory.

  “Cadet Jensen.”

  The address wasn’t a question.

  Thor, already a few steps ahead, paused. He watched, but he made no move to swoop in.

  I tried for my least-forced smile. “Yes, that’s me.”

  She extended her hand in greeting. “I’m Colonel Zagar. That was some impressive work on the field.”

  I pressed my palm against hers and attempted to match the firmness of her grip as we shook. “Thank you,” I said. “But it really was a team effort. I was lucky I got paired with Thor. Cadet Rocha, I mean.”

  Her thin lips twitched. “Don’t sell yourself short. Your instincts are good.”

  I nodded, not sure how to take the compliment. It seemed weird to thank someone for noticing something I did without thinking.

  “You know, no one would have blamed you if you decided not to try out for this experience. You’ve been here for, what? A month? And—” She leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering her voice. “—there have been rumors that you sustained an injury and couldn’t take full advantage of your training schedule.”

  She paused as if giving me the space to confirm or deny her gossip, but I didn’t respond.

  After a few seconds, she nodded as if my silence itself had been an answer. “So the question is, why do you want to go on this mission?”

  My gaze flicked to Thor, who still stood several feet away, watching the exchange. Was this a question he had been asked before? Had all the Keepers—or the other cadets? Was it part of the evaluation? I squared my shoulders. “Keepers should rise to every occasion,” I said, recalling Bridger’s words from days ago.

  “That’s true,” she agreed. “But why do you want to go on this mission?”

  My stomach dropped. I looked to Thor again, hoping to telegraph with my eyes that I could use an assist. But when he remained rooted to his spot, I started spinning through possible answers. What reason would the average cadet give for wanting to be selected for a mission like this? To prove herself? To get real-world training? To help distinguish herself from her peers? Any of those answers would probably be true, but none of them felt right to me.

  Why did I want to be chosen? The answer bubbled out of me before I could stop it. “I owe it to my people to take every opportunity to protect them.”

  Colonel Zagar held my gaze for a long moment before her lips twisted into a smile. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, cadet.”

  Recognizing my dismissal, I nodded and disengaged from the colonel before rejoining Thor. “Thanks a lot for you help back there.”

  “What?” Thor scoffed. “You seemed to have it under control.”

  I was about to disagree when I spotted
a familiar face in the crowd.

  Bridger approached us, grinning from ear to ear. “You guys were epic!” He gave Thor a high five before swinging an arm around me in a half hug.

  “That’s overstating things,” Thor said, but Bridger immediately waved away the evaluation.

  “You weren’t up here. There were quite a few very impressed individuals.” He removed his arm from around me, but he was still smiling.

  “How’d you do?” I asked. “I couldn’t really tell from the crowd’s reactions.”

  “We won,” he said, holding up his arms in victory. “There were a few sticky spots, and at one point I thought we were done for, but Shonda took on one of our opponents—on the scaffolding—to buy me time to get the flag.”

  I winced at the description. Although I was happy to hear Bridger had done well, I had hoped somehow he’d succeeded without Shonda’s help. After all the stress she’d caused me, I begrudged her the good showing.

  The three of us found an empty bench toward the back of the room. We couldn’t see the field at all, but I didn’t mind. As I sat with Bridger and Thor, sipping on my second glass of pungent juice, I sank into a relaxation more complete than any I could remember. The guys kept up a constant stream of chatter about what was happening around us, paying special attention to who was speaking to whom and what they might be discussing. While Bridger was the more animated of the two, assuming distinct voices for each person he was pretending to be in a conversation, Thor surprised me by keeping up the other end of whatever fictitious chat was occurring. I attempted to follow the thread of what they were saying, but they threw out too many unfamiliar names for me to keep track.

  When my second glass ran dry, I excused myself from the guys. After my chat with Colonel Zagar, I wanted to lie low to avoid another line of questioning about my reasons for wanting to go on the mission. But the longer I was here, the more relaxed I felt. As I walked between groups of chatting adults, I felt confident that I could hold my own in any conversation.

  As I wove around the knots of people, I kept my ears open. The first few snippets I overheard were about general small talk or the cadets’ showings so far. But as I snagged my third glass of juice, a voice pricked my attention.

  “… in Amberg isn’t as contained as we’d like.”

  I slowed to a stop, feigning interest in the cadets on the field as I tuned in to what the man was saying.

  “I thought the lockdown was getting people off the street,” said a woman.

  “It is. But McGown spent too much time dragging her feet. Some developers and business owners didn’t want to take a hit to their income, so she held out longer than she should’ve. Now, after all those protests, who knows how much more the virus has spread.”

  The woman sighed. “It’s just like demons to riot and play the victim, isn’t it? They couldn’t get medicine because they didn’t have their verification credentials. Well, what was stopping them from getting their papers before all this started? Everyone in the kis is supposed to have them. Good job complaining about something that’s entirely within your control.”

  I balled my fist, digging my fingernails into my palm. Of course these angels would blame demons for the policies they had instituted to bring about precisely the effect they described. Verification credentials required documentation about one’s lineage. Those records were expensive to acquire, difficult to obtain, or both. When the identification system was first established, it was voluntary. As years passed, the credentials became increasingly necessary for day-to-day life, but the process for obtaining them became exponentially more difficult. To prove one’s lineage, there needed to be three complete generations archived. The claim was this precaution would keep individuals with marks against them from applying for credentials under an alias. But as demons were disproportionately less likely to have applied for their papers back when it was easy, the stricter laws now put demons at a significant disadvantage. It was nearly impossible for a demon to get medical care, even though the law required health services to extend to every resident of the kis.

  I held my breath, waiting for them to go on, but another officer approached them and the subject shifted back to the tryouts.

  Sighing, I sipped my drink and continued my solo tour around the room, hoping to come across another useful conversation to listen in on. But when a set of familiar names pricked my ears, I snapped to attention.

  “Now entering the field,” boomed the announcer, “are Basil Podraza, Opalina Stanton, Kassie Bell, Rina Tivey, Clio Brooks, and Nathaniel Kouri.”

  The energy in our luxurious box changed and the halfhearted attention being paid by most attendees switched to anticipation.

  I crossed to the seats nearest the window overlooking the field. Even from this perch thirty feet above the ground, I had no trouble picking out Nate. His lithe form and graceful movements were obvious even at this distance.

  I hadn’t really looked at the stadium since my arrival in the box. The flagpole and golden flag were at our height, and from here, the mountain of scaffolding seemed easy to climb—like a set of stairs. The swinging cinder blocks looked like a mild inconvenience, and the rising and falling platforms appeared more like a fun carnival ride than the dangerous, super-powered elevators they had been.

  The teams wasted no time rushing onto the field. A girl with a long, black braid and a red pinny raced at Clio, but Clio knocked her to the ground so quickly I missed the take-down because I blinked. Nate sped straight to one of the wooden walls and ran about six feet up it before leaping off and jumping behind a line of gold-shirted guards guarding a small cache of weapons. He snatched a staff and used its length as leverage to spring over them again. Before any of them could react, he was back on the main part of the field, racing toward Clio, who had just knocked down Kassie Bell from the blue team.

  “They’re doing well, aren’t they?”

  Shonda’s voice behind me sent a prickle down my spine. Although I knew she must be in the room, I hadn’t seen her since my arrival. It had been easy to pretend she wasn’t here, so hearing her so nearby set me on edge.

  “It’s too early to say for sure, but I have confidence they’ll succeed,” Chancellor Kingston said in his cool, even tone.

  I gulped. I hadn’t seen the chancellor much since Thor and I arrived. The allure of seeing the final two Keepers in action had pulled him from whatever corner of the room he’d been in.

  Even as I trained my eyes forward, I kept my ears attuned to their words. Although I doubted Kingston would divulge any secrets to a cadet, the fact remained Shonda’s mother was a general. There was a possibility they could discuss something Guard-related.

  “I find their story so inspiring,” Shonda went on as Clio used Nate’s staff to vault herself onto the flagpole scaffolding. “Some might question the wisdom of encouraging their relationship, but just watching them work together as one is enough to make anyone see they belong together. Look how they work as a single unit. Like two halves of the same whole.”

  This turn in the conversation piqued my interest in spite of myself. I scanned the field through a new lens. My attention had been so focused on Nate that I hadn’t really spent much time regarding the other teams out there. So much of the academy’s gossip didn’t reach the Keepers that I was entirely unaware of the relationships between other students. I was curious whether there was anything to what Shonda was saying or whether she was simply trying a unique tack to capture the chancellor’s ear.

  The members of the blue team were engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the scaffolding guards, while the red team was attempting to scale the wall nearest the flagpole, possibly with a mind to leap over everyone’s heads. Meanwhile, Nate took up the discarded staff and followed Clio’s path onto the scaffolding.

  “Do you know if they’ve set a date yet?” Shonda asked. “For the wedding, I mean?”

  At this, I almost turned to see the chancellor’s reaction. Legal marriage was uncommon among demons because of
the paperwork required.

  It made sense that angels would view things differently. They had no fear of repercussions based on their ancestral lines. Although on its face it seemed odd for cadets not yet of legal age to feel ready to commit to a single person for the rest of their lives, I supposed it wasn’t that strange. After all, by being here at Blakethorne, most had already decided their future career.

  “No, no word on a date yet,” the chancellor said, a distinct note of disappointment in his voice. “But I assume after graduation.”

  His tone surprised me. Why would the chancellor of the senate care so much about the marriage of two cadets? Surely this wasn’t the first time a pair fell in love and decided to make their commitment official as soon as possible. Kingston was clearly invested in what happened at the school, but surely he had more important things to focus on than teenage romance.

  “I hope they’ll invite all their classmates,” Shonda said wistfully. “It’s rare indeed for two Blade Keepers to marry each other.”

  Her words hit me like a punch to the face. No. Surely I had to have misunderstood. But what else could she mean? The only Keepers on the field now were Clio and Nate.

  Clio and Nate were getting married.

  Nate was getting married.

  My stomach lurched. When Nate was frosty this morning, I assumed he’d simply gotten what he wanted last night. His kindness while we waited for our turn on the field made me think there was something more going on. I never guessed this was it.

  It was all a trick. Nate hadn’t meant a word of what he’d said to me. Was it some kind of game to him? I had to be the only person at Blakethorne who didn’t know he was promised to someone else. It made me an easy target for someone so handsome and charming.

  Did Clio know? My stomach lurched at the thought. Clio, who had been nothing but kind to me since I arrived—no, since I was chosen. Did she know what kind of man she was in love with? I had to tell her, even if it would break her heart.