Angelbound

Chapter 8-2-2

My tail whips behind me in a slow, predatory rhythm. My inner demon awakens, anger pumps through my veins. I grit my teeth as I take in the scene.

King Connor stands sturdy and tall, a silver sword hanging from a belt about his waist. Beside him, the Queen is arrayed in a black velvet gown with a full skirt and long looping sleeves, all edged in silver ribbon. Her sandy brown hair is wound into a bun at the base of her neck. Lincoln walks beside them with military precision. Shadows shift across his full mouth, brown hair, and strong shoulders.

My eyes flicker red with wrath.

The Rixa march to the Arena’s center, forming three columns of twenty soldiers each. The King, Queen, and High Prince stand nearby.

Lincoln steps forward, raising one hand. “On my mark!”

The men in the first column reach behind their backs, pulling what looks like two short silver rods from the folds of their tunics.

I squint, trying to see the weapons in their hands. Are those teensy little sticks the ‘mighty baculum?’ Not too impressive, Prince Pompous.

Lincoln lowers his arm.

The soldiers place one stick in each hand. A line of fire extends from both ends of the baculum, turning the rods into two short spears made of white flame.

The warriors toss the spears into the air. The lines of white fire whip skyward, then spiral back into the warrior’s hands. The Rixa set the two baculum together, creating one longer, heavier spear. Holding it before them with both hands, the warriors thrust the spear into the earth.

Okay, maybe that’s a little bit impressive.

Lincoln turns to the next group and nods.

The second column brings out their baculum, holding both sticks together in one hand. Fire extends from the baculum, turning the short silver rods into long tridents made of white flame. The warriors run through a series of synchronized lunges and spins. Like the first group, they end by setting the base of their tridents into the soil.

I hate to admit it, but that was cool, too.

Lincoln faces the last set of soldiers.

The third column raises their arms shoulder-high, one baculum in each hand. A rope of white flame extends between the silver rods. Before each warrior, the fiery baculum cord weaves back and forth until it turns into a small net made of fire. The soldiers toss their baculum-nets high into the air, where they all link together into one huge and fiery web. I can’t imagine a demon getting out from under that thing.

The fire-web hovers in the sky for a moment, then wafts slowly downward. When the great net lies just above the warrior’s heads, the Rixa raise their arms high, catching their baculum with ease. The fighters lower their hands. The fiery web breaks back into individual nets.

Lincoln pulls out two baculum of his own. He sets them together in his palms. A fiery broadsword appears in his hands. He sets his feet apart in battle stance and raises the fire-sword high above his head.

“In thrax hic sunt!” He speaks Latin, like the Scala. I’ve no idea what it means, but I guess it’s something like ‘thrax are in the house.’ At the sound of his voice, fresh anger zings through my system. I crack my neck and try to stay cool.

From her white throne, Verus sweeps her arm across the crowd. “The senior maiden of each major House is that house’s Great Lady. We’re fortunate to have four Great Ladies here with us today: Nita of House Kamal, Keisha of House Horus, Gianna of House Striga, and Adair of House Acca.”

Adair? As in ‘ooh you have such muscle-y muscles’ Adair? I grit my teeth and work hard to slow my breathing. I’m built to show up and kick ass, not stand around while girly dips do their thing.

I inhale a slow breath. Keep it together, Myla. I’m sure she’ll just prance out onto the Arena floor and then stand somewhere and look pretty.

Four girls around my age step through a stadium archway, each wearing a gown in their house’s color: yellow, purple, bronze, and blue. They saunter across the Arena floor to stand before the King, Queen, and High Prince. Lincoln lowers his baculum; the fiery blade disappears.

I glance at my watch. School’s almost over. This bleeding ceremony has to end soon.

“The procession is complete,” says Verus. “We will now awaken the Scala Heir.”

The angels once again rise to their feet, their great wings extending behind their backs. They speak in unison. “Who is the Scala Heir?”

The Lady Adair raises her hand to shoulder level, palm forward. “I am the Scala Heir.”

What?! No freaking way. The Scala is supposed to be part angel, demon, and human. Thrax are only part human and angel. I eye Lady Adair carefully. She’s so perfect and cute-sy, she could easily be part-demon. Maybe she’s descended from one of those swamp monsters who pretend to be a lovely, drowning lady. You try to rescue the pretty, and you’re lured to your death. Yeah, that’s it.

Lady Adair speaks again, her voice snapping me out of my thoughts. “I look forward to following in the long tradition of a thrax Scala.”

I grimace. The old Scala can’t last much longer. If she’s the Scala Heir, I could spend years of quality time with this loser. Gross.

Adair carefully positions her long blonde hair over one shoulder. She’s tall and willowy with porcelain skin, high cheekbones, a thin mouth, and a turned-up nose. One mismatched eye is emerald green, the other’s drab brown. All in all, she looks perfectly capable of getting a book down from a shelf without any help.

Verus nods. “We shall now awaken the Scala Heir.” All the angels lower their heads. A point of white light appears in the air above the stadium. I wince and shield my eyes with one hand. My body relaxes a bit. Things are getting interesting again.

The Queen of the Angels raises her arms toward the floating white light. “We draw forth igni power to the Scala Heir.”

My gaze shifts between the magical light and Adair, who whispers back and forth with Gianna. I raise my brows. I’m bored too, but I’m not chit-chatting from the middle of the Arena floor.

Inch by inch, the tiny star lowers until it rests just above the sandy ground. The Arena grows oddly quiet as the star twinkles away. My tail starts freaking out, trying to drag me out the nearest archway. I smack the arrowhead end and tell it to behave.

With a deafening crack, the point of light bursts, filling the Arena with hazy brilliance. The angels raise their heads, their eyes blazing bright blue in the thick white fog. The demons howl and cough.

I inhale deeply, the air tastes sweet and calming. My tail quiets down.

Once the air clears, Verus gestures to Adair. “Prove you have igni power.”

Adair raises her arms above her head. “I am the Scala Heir.” Tiny points of light tumble from her fingertips like grains of sand.

Verus nods. “Now that the Heir has been awakened, she must be angelbound. Igni power comes from the angels. Once the Scala Heir displays true love toward someone with angelic blood, it will further activate her abilities with igni. When the current Scala dies, her full powers will appear.”

I count off the steps in my mind: awakened, angelbound, and then full Scala when the old one dies. Makes sense that the angels would want to control when and how the Heir is awakened. It’s a big job. I look at Adair, my mouth twisting onto one side of my face. Not sure she’s really cut out for it.

Verus gestures to the Scala Heir. “To whom do you wish to be angelbound?”

Adair grins. “I choose my true love, the High Prince Lincoln.”

My back teeth lock. I think I’m going to be sick.

“Does the High Prince accept this?”

Lincoln’s expression is unreadable. “Yes.”

Verus gestures to Adair. “Would you like to say a few words before you’re angelbound?”

Adair beams. “Yes. Thank you all for this lovely initiation.” She glances straight at me. “I’m glad that the lesser creatures could be here too.”

Anger spikes up my spine. What did I ever do to her? First, she makes snotty comments about me in the library. Now, she does it again in the Arena. Someone is asking for an ass-whooping.

Adair and Gianna start whispering again.

I roll my eyes. Sheesh, save it for the ride home.

Verus gestures to Lincoln and the Scala Heir. “Please turn and face each other.”

Adair quickly steps in front of Lincoln. Their gazes lock. Adair’s forehead crinkles. After that, she swoons and tumbles to the ground. Lincoln helps her back to her feet. Adair looks around the stadium, her eyes blinking madly.

The stadium lets out a collective gasp. Adair’s eyes, once mismatched, now both glow bright blue. Angel eyes.

“Lady Adair, you are awakened and Angelbound,” says Verus. “Our initiation is complete. When the current Scala dies, you will gain your full powers from him. We bow to you, our Scala Heir.”

The angels bend at the waist, the demons howl and screech. Armageddon leans back in his black stone throne, eyes gleaming red and missing nothing. The whole scene seems way over-the-top and sketchy to me. But what do I know? I’m used to killing things in the Arena, not watching crap like this.

Lincoln offers his arm to Adair, she wraps her fingers around his bicep. Of course. Together, they process off the stadium floor.

Suddenly, I’m totally regretting my decision to stand by an exit archway. They’re heading straight for me. My inner rage monster turns positively frantic.

As the Prince and Scala Heir step nearer, Adair eyes me from head to toe. “What do they call these lesser demons again? Partials? Semis?”

Fury twists my stomach. We’re called quasis.

Lincoln gazes in my direction. His face is stone. “I’m not sure.”

Adair sighs. “Whatever they’re called, I’m glad they saw ‘real warriors’ in action today.” She grips Lincoln’s bicep tighter.

More fury flows through me. I set my feet apart, ready to pounce. My tail arcs over my shoulder. Lincoln watches the movement, the ghost of a smile curling his full lips in a way that says ‘how cute; the little demon wants to fight.’ My blood pressure skyrockets.

The Prince steps past me through the archway. “Yes, I’m sure it was quite an education for the poor creatures.”

That does it.

Mindless rage blasts through my veins. My eyes positively beam with red light. I rush forward, ready to tackle them both behind the kneecaps.

Instead, it’s Walker who pounces on me, knocking me straight into a portal. We tumble through space, coming to a landing in the empty parking lot outside my school.

“Walker? What in blazes are you doing?” I ball my hands into fists. My eyes burn bright red.

“You’re asking me?” Walker shakes his head in disbelief. “You were about to flatten the thrax High Prince. A hundred of his best warriors were standing nearby. Even you can’t fight that, Myla.”

I pace the parking lot. The movement helps the anger seep from my body. My eyes cool a bit. “Okay, you’re right.” I pause and take three deep breaths. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Walker rubs his sideburns. “That was some look on your face, Myla. I’ve never seen your eyes turn that red.”

“I guess I lost my temper big time.” I shift my weight from foot to foot. This incident has gone from rage-inducing to totally embarrassing.

“I understand. Ghouls are the same way. We’re quiet enough and then–KABOOM–we lose our cool.”

Maybe that’s a genetic trait I got from my father. Barf. A heavy sadness seeps into my bones. I slouch and hug my elbows.

Walker tilts his head to one side. “Is there something wrong, Myla?”

I meet his gaze, seeing his black button eyes fill with concern. I start blabbing everything. “I’ve been getting these dreamscapes about Mom’s past from the angel Verus.”

Walker nods. “Your mother told me.”

“Well, I think my dad may be a ghoul.”

“Have you asked your mother about this?”

“Not yet.” I slump a bit lower. “Maybe I don’t want the answer to that question so much anymore.”

“I understand.” Walker rubs his sideburns thoughtfully. “Perhaps a change of subject is in order. I’ve learned the Scala will perform an iconigration soon.”

“Really?! Will you sneak me in?” Iconigrations are when the Scala transfers souls in a huge group. So cool.

“Of course.” A wisp of a grin rounds his mouth. “And where would you like to go now?” He opens a portal.

I soak in Walker’s warm smile. A knot of emotion forms in my throat. “Thanks again, Walker. For everything.”

“No need for thanks.” Walker sets his hand on my cheek, his touch is warm and grounding. “You’re very important to me, Myla.” He glances at the black portal. “Now where to?”

I check my watch. “Well, school ended an hour ago. Can we go to the Ryder library?”

“Absolutely.” Walker takes my hand in his. Together, we step into the portal. For once, I actually don’t feel ill as we tumble through space. We step out right by the mansion’s front door.

I give Walker’s hand a little squeeze. “See you at the iconigration.”

Walker nods. “Until then.” He steps into the dark portal and disappears.