Page 10 of Demon Touched

“Oh yes,” Pellery nods as we reach a heavy door with a plaque outside of it reading Colonel Cavat. “To help as many fledglings as possible avoid dishonor during the trials. We’re not totally merciless, you know.” She raises an eyebrow at me before glancing out the window, checking the sun. “The fledglings should be done with their supervised training for today, which means the colonel should be home.”

She raps on the door and waits for a response.

“Wait here,” she orders, stepping inside. There are a few minutes of muffled voices from behind the door and then she’s back, beckoning me inside.

The olive-skinned man in an ivory uniform looks to be in his mid-forties, though what that is in ephilium years I don’t know. He has dark hair, cut close to his scalp, with a meticulously neat black mustache and pointed goatee. He rises swiftly from behind his desk, heavy-lidded eyes flaring at the sight of me from beneath his sharp eyebrows.

“Captain Pellery,” he says, annoyed. “You didn’t mention that she doesn’t even have wings.”

Pellery looks at me innocently. “Yes, well, I thought it would be obvious when you saw her.”

“Captain,” the colonel repeats warningly.

“Give it some time,” Pellery says, her tone more conciliatory. “Her magic has only just developed; it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think the wings are on their way.”

His brow drops into a glower. He’s unimpressed by Pellery’s optimism. “Illidore or not, you know the likely result of putting some mire-raised hatchling in the trials.”

“Perhaps you should give her the chance to surprise you, Colonel,” Pellery responds.

I shift on my feet. I’m grateful to Pellery for defending me like this, but given I’m only a quarter ephilium, I’m as skeptical as the colonel that there’re any new feathery appendages in my future. And if he’s this skeptical about my chances, I’m inclined to believe him.

“Either way, sir,” Pellery continues. “It’s on the orders of the seraphim.”

His jaw hardens, but he nods. “Then we must trust their judgment,” he says, sounding a little defeated. “She can go join the others in the nest.”

Pellery takes a step back, offering him a salute. “Respectfully, Colonel Cavat, my orders were to escort her here. But I have neglected my duties in Strata long enough.”

Panic rises in me as I watch my last tie to the human realm move toward the door. I push it down, focusing on the magic buzzing inside me—power I will hone and fortify and perfect. I just need to get the ephilium to show me how.

“Goodbye, Captain Pellery,” I say, forcing my voice to sound smooth and confident.

She gives me an approving look. She knows I’m frightened, and she knows that emotion will do me no good from here on out.

“Good luck, Fledgling Illidore,” she says before closing the door behind her.

And just like that, I have a new name, in a new realm, surrounded by people I once would’ve considered totally other. But I’m one of them, or close enough, and they’re willing to give me a chance in this strange world of theirs. So I’d better make the most of it.

I turn to the colonel expectantly, but he’s already seated back down at his desk, reading over something. His workspace is as meticulously neat as his facial hair, and I’m struck by the contrast between it and the way Viz kept Syrus’s office in cheerful chaos.

“Take a left outside and follow the corridor to the northeast wing, fledgling,” the colonel says, barely glancing up at me. “The other fledglings will get you oriented. If you get lost, ask for the nest—those are the quarters for all trial takers.”

He lifts his head, his heavy lids giving him an aloof expression as he flicks his eyes over me.

“Whatever your plan was coming here, I hope you’re better at strategy than you seem. You’re dismissed, fledgling.”

I swallow, wondering if I should salute him like Pellery did. I settle for ducking my head in a kind of half bow before leaving.

Thankfully, it’s not hard to follow his instructions. The academy layout seems more logical and ordered than the winding hallways of the castle in Malice. I sigh at myself the moment the thought pops into my head.

You have to stop comparing everything to Infernum, I tell myself. Especially since every comparison highlights another thing I liked better in the demon realm. Yes, it had its charms, but I don’t belong there, not when I couldn’t ever be my true self. Although maybe that’s ironic, given the way I keep getting curious looks whenever I pass cadets in the hallways.

Looking for something to steel my nerves, I reach for my magic. But I don’t conjure—I just settle into the buzz of energy beneath my skin. It reminds me that I do have some qualifications for being here. Wings or not.

The cadets in silver armor start to thin out until eventually I pass out of the main building and into a covered walkway with arches overlooking a circle of green grass. There’s a group of ephilium in the middle, all with their backs to me, talking loudly and jostling each other. None of them are wearing a full suit of armor, but there’s a smattering of bronze-colored metal among them—helmets, bracers, and breastplates, all worn over more casual clothes.

Gold for the Brigade soldiers, silver for cadets, and bronze for the trial takers, it would seem. That means I’ve found my fellow fledglings. I wonder if one of them is my cousin as I follow the gaze of the group up toward the sky, squinting at a smattering of small shapes moving in the pale expanse of blue. In a matter of seconds, they’ve grown larger, evolving into figures, wings tucked tight to their sides, hurtling toward the earth.

“Show them, Keros!” comes a cry from someone near the front of the group. I make sure to linger at the back so as to not attract attention.