Kayla’s eyes ran across the page, hungrily consuming the text. It wasn’t that she was forbidden from using the library, but she was usually supervised when she did, the books’ wards making sure she didn’t read anything deemed inappropriate by their superiors. But she had managed to sneak in while they weren’t there, quietly gather a few of the books she did want to read and tuck herself into a corner where she hoped she’d remain undiscovered. She had to make good use of the few time she had before they came to make their rounds. Breaking rules wasn’t common for her and she didn’t know how she would deal with the consequences of it, but she just had to know more about the Archons.

Her body sank lower into the cushioned chair she was sitting on as if to make herself even smaller, the familiar scents of leather and paper trying to lull her into a sense of security that she didn’t feel. Her heartbeat in her ears and her fingertips against the dark wood of the table counted off every second that went by, every second that her brain screamed at her that what she was doing was wrong and she should stop it immediately.

Another page clean of the word she so desperately wanted to see and Kayla turned it carefully, despite the urge to rip it off. The too-bright lantern lights hanging off the stone walls were getting to her. They made her more aware of how exposed she was, and she kept worrying about how much demon blood was being wasted keeping them on for almost no reason when it wasn’t a plentiful commodity. It was becoming hard to focus, the fear and racing thoughts clouding her mind and her vision, but then the so desired word came into view and everything cleared.

The passage was small, an offhand comment in a long text describing boring details about troops allocations and formations for some bygone battle against a type of angel no one had seen for the past eternity. The author lamented the fact that the Scions couldn’t be deployed to fight on the Order’s side, to help humanity conquer the garden that was rightfully their heritage.

And that was it.

No explanation as to why that was. No mention of the Archons’ reasons for contracting with a chosen human and granting them god-like powers. No answers as to why the ones who had those powers had to be locked up, used only in last resort scenarios to get rid of monsters who entered cities, instead of fighting at the forefront of the war to save the world, as the author herself seemed to agree that they should have.

Kayla’s fist clutched involuntarily, her nails dragged down the coarse paper and almost scrapped it. She took a deep breath, fought the urge to slam the book shut. It wouldn’t be good to draw attention to herself. The mark on the left side of her neck, right over her jugular, the cryptic tangle of shapes and bulges and gems protruding from under, from within her skin seemed to pulse in tandem with her heartbeat, her disheveled emotions. She had a clear impression, not for the first time, that the Archon could feel them too.

Shaking her head to get rid of the thought, she closed the book carefully and got up to return it and the others to their places. It wasn’t likely that anyone would come looking for her unless the bells tolled, announcing a demon had trespassed into the wards, but the librarians would start their rounds soon, according to the clock on the wall.

Kayla emerged from the maze of shelves a few moments later, a book she knew was safe for her to read and wouldn’t arouse any suspicion tucked into her arms, her mind elsewhere. The mark was still pulsing, distracting her, reminding her of the meager words she had read that had brought more questions than answers as she walked down the hardwood staircase and towards the entryway, the heavy wine red carpet muffling the sounds of her booted feet.

“I’ll have to check what book you’re taking, Scion,” a voice interrupted her thoughts.

Her head snapped up to look at the young boy standing behind the polished counter near the entrance. He was barely old enough to tend to any duties that didn’t involve having fun or studying, yet here he was, a jeweled Knave’s choker already laying on top of the collar of his robes. But worse than the sign of fealty was the sign of already drilled discipline and obedience in the fact that, although he flinched as their eyes locked, he didn’t look away.

He’d be gone soon, too, she realized. He’d be sent away on that damned futile pilgrimage that had taken all their best fighters, all their mighty heroes until all that was left were the very young or the very old or the very fragile. Because the truth that they all refused to see was that no one could complete it and kill God. Only she could.

Kayla held up the leather-bound volume for him to see without a word. He took a step forward, his tongue coming out to wet his lips in a show of nervousness he had yet to learn to keep down when around her. Eyes almost disappearing into his cheeks in a squint, he leaned against the counter and held his neck out and his face closer, but didn’t take another step. Kayla pushed the book closer to him, trying to help. It only made him flinch back and she had to fight to keep her face straight and not yell at him.

“Ethan? What are you… Oh.”

Knight Nathaniel had come into the library from the small office behind the counter. His long blond hair spilled over his shoulders, his weight rested heavily against the walking cane on his right hand. His face changed into a stony mask when he looked up from the boy and saw her standing there, book extended outwards and up into Ethan’s face.

“What book is it, Scion?” he asked.

Blood rushed to her head as she realized she could have just read the title to the boy and gotten out of the situation much faster. She was so used to not using her voice that it had almost become a last resort for her.

“The Full Compendium on Western Demons,” she said and, despite her voice not being used often, it came out clear, almost musical and Ethan’s eyes went wide when he heard it.

Nathaniel was unfazed. “It’s a bit of a repeat from your last read.”

Kayla’s place in the hierarchy of the House had never been made clear to her and, while she was almost sure she outranked the Knaves and Maids, dealing with the Knights and Dames was always more complicated. She preferred to steer clear of anyone wearing the jabots and bracelets that indicated the ranks because while some acted as if she was a child to be disciplined, even though she was a grown woman, others acted as if she was a saint they were not worthy to be in the presence of.

Nathaniel, however, belonged to the third, rarer group. The ones that treated her with suspicion, as if she was a time bomb that could blow up at any second. She had never understood why but preferred to keep her interactions with him as short and inconsequential as possible.

“That’s fine,” she replied with a shrug.

His eyes never left her face during their exchange, looking for any sign of something amiss. He wouldn’t find any, because she had learned long ago that the best way to mask any signs of mischief and misbehavior was to hide them behind truthful diligence. She was interested in demons and often read about them, given that her only purpose was to fight and kill them. If this book would repeat what little information on them the others had already provided, what of it? Not like there was an abundance of it, to begin with. Not like she was allowed to read the reports on eastern demons. She still remembered the angry lectures she had gotten when she tried. And that was not to mention the punishments when she tried to read about angels. So her reading material was limited, to begin with, and essays on how the machines at the demon blood refineries worked never interested her, as Nathaniel well knew by then.

The muscles on his face shifted almost imperceptibly and Kayla was ready to turn on her heel and leave the library as soon as he said the words, but then the bells tolled and her stomach dropped.

Ethan looked around in alarm, fear tainting his young face, and Nathaniel’s gaze grew sharp again as it fell on her. Kayla barely registered it, because she was already dropping the book on the counter and turning to run out the library, taking a right on the cold stone corridor towards the closest side door that would lead her outside. The castle was riddled with them so that in cases of emergency people could get inside and she could get out.

The heavy oak moved easily on well-oiled hinges when she pushed at it and the still air greeted her, along with the ever black sky. Kayla ran, almost glided down the black metal stairway that led to the garden. The long layers of her dress and her dark hair floated behind her as she headed towards the courtyard and the main gates. The mark on her neck was now pulsing faster, a frenzied rhythm that she couldn’t decide was fear or excitement for the battle to come.

“Shut up,” Kayla murmured through gritted teeth, to no avail.

There was only one thing that could appease it now. As she ran, she took the key tied around her right wrist and tugged on it. The chain connected to it gave way, unraveling from somewhere inside her and scraping the skin at the back of her neck as it uncoiled. When there was enough space to maneuver it, she plunged the key into the mark, right at her jugular.

The razored ends sliced through the raised flesh, parting it easily until one of the points caught on a gem, grinding against it and sending sharp vibrations through her nerves before digging deeper into her neck. A grimace of pain twisted her face as she turned the key fully once and pulled it back out, blood spurting as she did. Her whole body seemed to light on fire as the magic released and ran through it.

The result was immediate. With a simple ghost of a thought that was more emotional desire than rational process, her armor materialized over her lace dress. The red veil cascaded down her back to cover her black hair, the metal garter cinched at her thigh. The chains that dangled from the pieces rattled as she moved, strangely weighty for how dainty they were and there was a part of her that seemed to hiss and recoil from the coolness of their touch against her skin, but she had long learned to ignore it.

She let go of the key as the courtyard came into view and the chain coiled back to its original position, retreating into her skull with a quiet whirr that made her teeth clench and her ears buzz. As if they, too, could hear it, the people in the courtyard turned to look at her. Kayla would have thought them to be moving statues if she didn’t know them. Their features were impassive, their eyes empty, betraying no emotion. The only sounds were that of their lace and velvet robes swishing and their armors clinking, and the mournful bells still ringing above them.

She felt as if someone was sitting on her chest and squeezing her insides as her brain registered not only the jabots and bracelets of the Knights and Dames but also the neck capes and diadems of the King and Crone among the people waiting for her. Somehow, they seemed to be more silent and impassive than the others, brown and green eyes watching her like cats, like predators that knew they could become prey.

“Are you ready?” Dame Victoria asked, not briskly or unkindly, only urgent.

Kayla held her hand to the side, willing her sword to materialize, and nodded. Her voice would be even more changed now that she had activated her powers and she didn’t dare to use it in the presence of other people.

At the Dame’s signal, the gates opened and Kayla stepped outside. She felt a weight immediately lift off of her and she rolled her neck, bared her teeth almost unconsciously. Something told her this was still not enough, that there was much more still locking her up inside herself, so much she didn’t know and they weren’t telling her. But she pushed that feeling far into the corners of her mind, as she always did and willed the lantern hanging from her belt to turn on, forming up a pool of light at her feet. All she had to do was focus on the task ahead of her, the duty she was destined for.

It was time to hunt a demon.

Next Chapter →