Wicked Wings

34

It’s hard to tell if they know anything or not, although Araceli definitely reacted oddly. Was she invited to the meeting tonight? Or Darel, I wonder, as he walks out of the men’s shop empty-handed and heads straight for my roommate?

Cyrus appears at my side carrying a shopping bag. “Where to next?”

We wander through town for the rest of the day, and even though I tell myself I’ll only spend a tiny bit, the prices are higher here than in Los Angeles. After buying a pretty day planner to keep track of my assignments, some pictures to hang in our dorm room, plus a pair of jeans I spied through a window, my wallet is a lot lighter. I guess angels can afford a premium price so they can have a place where they don’t have to hide their wings or their magic. It’s common here to see someone flying overhead, or glowing softly as they pass by, and everyone seems to know everyone else. Except me, of course. I still get the weird looks and the hurried whispers, although with friends at my side, they don’t bother me quite as much. Chapter Twenty-Two

Olivia

T

hat night, I silently move through the forest toward the location on the invitation, wearing the white mask and robes. It’s pitch black out here, with no moon to light my way, but it doesn’t bother me. Here on top of the mountain it’s so clear it’s like I can see every single constellation in the sky—very different from where I grew up in Southern California.

Soon I come upon a small clearing where two people in white robes and masks are already waiting. I can’t tell who they are, but they must be first years like me. One of them is probably Tanwen, knowing my luck. Both robed figures give me a nervous glance as I take a spot in the clearing a little distance away from them. We all stand around awkwardly as a few more people walk in, until there are fourteen of us total. I’m not surprised—seven is a sacred number for angels, just like six is for demons.

People in gold robes and masks suddenly emerge from all sides of the forest, surrounding us in the clearing, and it’s hard to tell how many of them there are. One of them has a gold crown over his or her mask, and when they speak, the voice is unidentifiable. “Congratulations. You have been chosen from all of the angels at this school to possibly join the Order of the Golden Throne, the most ancient secret society in this world. Created three thousand years ago, the Order has been working from the shadows to guide humanity and angels on Earth for all of history. We recruit directly from the academy from both students and professors, and when you leave this school you will go on to become leaders of angel society.” The leader pauses and glances among the people in white robes. “However, just because you received an invitation to tonight’s gathering does not mean you have been accepted into the Order. No, at the moment you are initiates only, and to join the Order you must pass three tests. Only then will you become a full-fledged member at the end of the school year.”

If this secret society went back that far, then my parents gave me a seriously lacking education. I’ve been starting to figure that out over the last week, but it’s a lot worse than I realized, and there’s so much I don’t know. This secret society stuff sounds like more of the “angels are holier than thou” philosophy I can’t stand, but I’m pretty sure my brother was a member, and this is the only clue I have so far. Which means I have to pass whatever tests they’re going to throw at me.

“Before we give you the first test, we want to talk about our core values,” the leader continues. “We believe angels are superior beings, and our purpose is to control Earth from the shadows to guide humanity to a brighter future. We believe demons are evil and must be eradicated from Earth to protect humanity. And finally, we believe that loyalty to the Order is paramount, along with discretion. You must not talk about the Order or this meeting with anyone, even if you do not become a member. We will find out if you break this rule, and there will be consequences.”

Oops, guess I already broke that rule. I wonder what these dire consequences will be?

The person to my right snorts, and he must be thinking something along the same lines. All of the golden masks turn toward him at once, and he visibly stiffens. There is nothing more unnerving than a dozen or more people in masks all staring at you.

“Do you find this amusing?” the leader asks, in their unnatural voice. “Initiate?”

The person—who I assume is a man based on their body type, though I could be wrong—adjusts their mask. “No, it’s just that everybody already knows about the Order. People talk.” Like the leader, this person’s voice is masked somehow, just like their face.

“See that you are not one of them,” the leader orders. “Now, you may wonder why we have chosen you to become initiates. We have been watching you for some time, and at least one of our members has nominated you because we believe you have the traits we are looking for. Some of you come from a well-respected angelic family, while others have shown a strong hatred for demons or a willingness to help guide humans toward the light. Do not question yourselves. If you received an invitation, then you deserve to be here—but keep in mind that only a few of you will make it to the final trial.