Chapter Eight #6
“Their many, many coups have failed, but so many demons have been slaughtered in the attempts, the hell lords have been forced to recognize their strength—the answer to why the fae are allowed to enroll in Abaddon, despite the bitter history between fae and demons.”
“Hmm. I wonder what this school really is?” I said into the air. “Why does it exist if bringing the students together and burying old hatreds isn’t the purpose?”
My silent followers didn’t answer me, but Sabrina did.
“The reason is the same reason all separate communities force themselves to get along—trade.”
My brows popped, but I forced myself not to reply.
If Radu was one of the vampires currently following me, and I had no reason to think he wasn’t, I didn’t want to confirm that my snake could talk.
Like he not-so-subtly warned me, he could use Sabrina to get me busted for cheating, and I wasn’t going to let him put me in a desperate situation where I’d need him to save me.
“No outsider has ever been able to confirm it, but it’s believed that the fae have managed to cultivate an oasis with clean water, fresh air, and natural soil. It is this oasis that has allowed them the means to ssssupply all the food on the tables of Abaddon Academy and beyond.”
“Food?” I blurted.
“Yes, please,” one of the vampires replied—setting his companions off with their hair-raising hissing-like chuckles.
“Before the fae came to hell, what passed for food in this realm is not worth mentioning. The soil in hell is dead and the water is as foul as the air. Not exactly a ripe environment for farming, and no demon would have the patience or discipline to work a farm even if it was.
“You’ve tasted fae food for yourself, human. Wouldn’t your empty stomach persuade you to put aside fae prejudice for just another bite?”
And how. I had yet to eat a single thing down here that wasn’t delicious. Honestly, I’d never eaten so good in my life. If I was a demon, I’d have for sure gotten over my hangups to eat like that every day.
I hummed, taking in everything Sabrina said. Hell politics were both more complicated, and simpler, than I thought.
“Before you ask,” Sabrina went on, “the wolves and vampires have also proved themselves to be enemies, and allies, who shouldn’t be ignored.
The werewolves passed down their mastery of craftsmanship throughout the generations.
Before the invasion, demons needed only magic to fight.
But after the Others arrived, they were faced with many a creature impervious to magic attacks.
You met such a creature mere hours ago.”
The imp. It was true, everyone was throwing everything they had at the little guy, but not a single magical or physical attack touched him.
“The wolves trade weapons and tools that do what magic can’t,” she said, “and I’ve already told you that there is no more effective an assassin than a vampire.”
That really wasn’t what I wanted to hear when a whole crowd of them were trailing me in the dark.
“These four groups have reached an uneasy alliance,” Sabrina said, “but none of them trust the other. Demons ultimately want to stamp out or subjugate every being that’s invaded their territory, and the vampires, werewolves, and fae want power in a place where none is given, and all must be taken.
“That’s why Abaddon Academy was created. This place isn’t an institution of learning. It is, above all, a school of hostages.”
“What?” I blurted, then laughed—pulling up short. “Wha— Wha— What am I doing here?” I got out. “I think I made a wrong turn somewhere.”
Turning back the way I came, my fingertips brushed the unseen wall as the sea of lantern eyes slightly parted for me. I couldn’t be sure, but I think there were twice as many following me as there were before.
“All of the students here are hostages, human. The princes, the alphas, the vampire elders, the demon lord heirs. All of them incredibly important and influential in their communities, and all of them the perfect targets for assassination if someone wanted to bring those communities to their knees.
“By coming here, all groups equally expose their weaknesses while pretending to trust each other. If King Ravenscar, for example, had refused to send his son to the academy, it would’ve signaled that he does not trust or respect the very people he seeks to trade with.
And if he does not trust or respect them, why wouldn’t those people begin new trade negotiations with the southern fae ruler, Queen Liadan Sundancer?
“And so, he has sent his only son and heir to Abaddon—albeit with a cohort of fae soldiers protecting said son at all times.”
I hummed some more, nodding along. What she was saying made sense. It was awful, but it made sense.
“Of course, even though education is Abaddon’s secondary purpose, it is still the best educational institution in hell.
For many, this is the first real school they set foot in their afterlife, and here is where they are trained to survive life in hell.
Here is where they learn the politics of the realm, and here is where they make their alliances.
Which hell lords to serve, which packs to join, and what they can trade to make them a more valuable ally than the rest.”
Sabrina’s explanation was thorough as always, but I had so much more I wanted to ask and have clarified. What an insane way to treat the next generation of leaders, but still, I could see this place for what it was—an attempt at peace.
But I wonder if anyone else sees that? But then again, peace might be another word that’s not in their vocabulary.
“But you did ask about Ravenscar specifically,” Sabrina spoke up.
“Again, this is just rumor because naturally, no fae has ever seen fit to discuss their affairs outside of their community, but it is said that when Iarla Ravenscar was quite young, he was taken in by a servant girl who posed as a friend to a lonely child.
One day, she convinced him to sneak away from all of his servants and guards to play with her in secret.
“After that, he wasn’t seen again for ninety years.”
My brows popped as a shocked cry strangled in my throat.
“The young prince was eventually rescued from his kidnappers, but he returned with a much more... rougher... personality than one would expect of a dignified fae prince,” she said.
“Even so, he is the only heir, and it is very unlikely that there will be another. Iarla Ravenscar will inherit the throne—no matter how unpleasant he is.”
My footsteps echoed in the hall as Erlik’s remark floated through my head.
“And like the woman she is, she used tricks and deception to achieve her task. Hiding among us instead of revealing herself to the slaughter she’d receive. Anyone who falls prey to a sneaking, slithering woman deserves their fate.
“But you know all about that, don’t you, fairy boy?”
So if things happened as Sabrina said, Erlik was taunting a kidnapping survivor right to his face.
“Douchebag,” I muttered. “What is with the teachers at this school? It’s like they’re handpicked from a bucket of overripe assholes.”
Someone behind me chuckled. My skin prickled to think it could’ve been Professor Radu.
My hands bonked up against an obstruction. Feeling my way, I hit wallpaper, wallpaper, wallpaper—
Wood.
“A door?” I slid to the left, groping the frame until I found the handle. “Please, be the way out of here. Please—”
“Agghhhh!”
I jerked, heart shooting into my throat. “What?!” I cried over the sudden, loud keening wails that ripped through the corridor. “What happened!”
Light filled the room and rushed into my eyes, making me wince. Vision slowly clearing, my gaze fell upon Radu first.
He stood at the entrance to what seemed to be an old, dusty sitting room, holding a torch over the threshold for all to see—
No... I gasped, clapping my hands over my mouth. For me, and my very regular eyes to see.
The bodies.
Splayed on the floor, over the armchairs, and even stuck into the wall were five murdered vampires. How did I know these men of various ethnicities and wardrobes were vampires? Well, every single one of them was brutally impaled through the chest, but there wasn’t a single drop of blood.
No, I thought, turning my attention to what set off all the vampires rushing in to see what was going on. There is blood.
Painted on the wall in the symbol of the raven and crossbones.
Radu looked at it, his bored expression gone for good, and said, “Avos.”