Saahira shuffled her books uncomfortably in her arms as she stared up at the tall spires of the Sanctum of the Nine Arts. Others passed her by in small groups, chattering excitedly and adjusting the perfect hems on their perfect clothes. She shifted her weight to her right foot, hoping the small tatter in her skirts was hidden beneath the dark purple fabric of her cloak.

  “What class did you choose first?” a girl with blonde hair and long, slender ears asked her companion.

  The companion, a boy whose smile revealed sharp fangs, straightened his shoulders. “Alchemy!”

  “I’m sure your parents loved that. Didn’t your great-grandfather cure the Vrida Plague?”

  He laughed. “Not quite. But his research did help. Did you take fate and arcana? Like your mother?”

  “Not yet. I…” Their conversation waned as they moved farther away from Saahira.

  Similar talks picked up where the two left off. An ancient magus father. A famous necromancer brother.

  Saahira was no one. Her parents were unabashedly, unapologetically human.

  What am I doing here?

  She could have stayed home and lived a simple life with her parents and younger sister. Her father was a blacksmith—not for anyone important, but he was good at what he did for their village. Horseshoes, farming tools, hunting weapons, and the like. Her mother dabbled in alchemy, but nothing that would win her praise in the sanctum. Her younger sister was barely six but was already learning to read, a skill their parents thought potentially valuable should an opportunity as a scribe or bookkeeper arise. Saahira was contributing to her family by waiting tables at the village’s tavern—The Laughing Bull—when the voices started.

  -This is where you belong.-

  I don’t feel like it is.

  Sometimes they would answer her, sometimes they wouldn’t. A choir of beings that knew her name and her every fault.

  -Your emotions are inhibitive.-

  Great. Thanks.

  The first word they’d ever whispered to her was her name. She’d been certain it was just another patron of the Bull, but they continued. She’d feared she was going mad like a rabid animal that many of the farmers in her village had to put out of its misery.

  They seemed to sample her thoughts and chew on her desires. Some nights, they woke her from sleep with requests that sent shivers down her spine.

  When Saahira’s mother found her at the center of a magic circle one morning in her room, she cried. Not from terror or disappointment, but tears of joy.

  “Our daughter is special,” she’d said.

  But as Saahira looked from her arms to the symbol on the floor, realizing that it was drawn from her own blood, struggling to remember the events that led up to it, she didn’t feel special. She felt scared.

  Quick footsteps sounded behind her, and a sudden impact against her shoulder sent the books in her arms flying. Saahira sucked in a quick breath and fought to keep her balance. The last thing she needed was another tear in her skirt.

  “Oh! Gods, I’m so sorry!” White hair flashed in Saahira’s purview as a lithe form rushed to pick up her books.

  The bells in the tower rang loudly over the courtyard, warning the stragglers to make haste to their classes.

  “It’s fine.” She knelt and snatched the nearest book. “I can get them. Just go.”

  “No, please let me help.” He grabbed a scuffed leather tome and brought it closer to his face. Turning it to its spine and back, he asked, “Hey…isn’t this edition from a few years ago?”

  Saahira’s face burned bright red. She retrieved two more books, then ripped the last one from the boy’s fingers. “Yes.”

  Before he could ask anything else that would make her want to crawl into the nearest hole and die, she lowered her head and hurried toward the enormous doors. She rearranged her books in search of the first volume of Demonology, then threw the cover open. To her relief, the map of the sanctum was still there.

  Towering archways and manicured gardens were a half-noticed blur as she navigated the school’s stone buildings and spiral staircases. She hurried down a long hallway to an alcove that required torches, even with the morning sunlight. The scent of incense hung heavy in the air, the lavender and patchouli clinging to her nostrils.

  A wooden door with black runes carved around its frames was halfway open, revealing long stretches of obsidian tables with students seated behind them. Saahira checked her map one last time for good measure, nodded to herself, and entered the classroom. A quick, silent count of her peers revealed fourteen other students in her class. She was the fifteenth.

  No one seemed to notice as she slid into the back row, leaving at least three chairs between her and the next person. She set her books to the side and readied a stack of brilight grass paper—a gift from her neighbor Hahn before she’d left. The other students seemed to have well-crafted journals and stacks of expensive parchment or vellum, but it didn’t quiet her excitement with filling in the fresh, blank sheets before her. The bells rang one last time, signaling the beginning of their school day.

  Their teacher was nowhere to be seen. Only a large, empty wooden desk was situated at the center in front of three connected chalkboards. A few giggles and murmurs passed between the students, but Saahira continued her preparations, withdrawing a half-used ink bottle and an old quill from her satchel. Just as she’d settled into her place, a shimmering outline in the center of the room caught her eye. She blinked and looked up. The outline danced in midair, curving around a feminine shape leaning against the desk.

  “I see that at least a few of you have the aptitude,” a low, silken voice commanded their attention from the front. “Time will tell if the rest of you do.”

  The room stilled. The shimmer gradually filled into a woman with wine-red hair that tumbled down to her waist and curved horns that protruded outward from either side of her head. Two enormous, leathery wings stretched from her waist, and a slender tail curled around her thigh. She wore a black, corseted top, a minuscule pair of underwear, and a skirt that fell behind her legs to her ankles but did nothing to cover her thighs. Her calves were hidden behind a high pair of leather boots that reached just above her knees.

  “Oh? Do I have your attention now?” A smile quirked the corner of her full lips.

  “Our teacher’s a succubus?” someone hissed nearby.

  “Who better to teach demonology than a demon, Renelor?” Their teacher looked right at the boy who spoke, her smile never wavering.

  Renelor—a freckle-coated boy with ginger hair—blanched, and the girl beside him giggled. The succubus pushed herself away from the desk and sauntered toward the chalkboard.

  “You may call me Lillith.” Raising her hand to the dark surface, Saahira watched, entranced, as the letters of Lillith’s name painted themselves on the board. “You and I will get to know each other intimately over the next five years.” She turned to the class, and her golden eyes bore into Renelor’s face. “Some of you, at least.”

  -She knows us well.-

  Saahira readjusted the quill between her fingers. Her imagination wandered, picturing another late-night blackout with a bloody magic circle painted on the floor, but this one resolved with Lillith naked in her bed.

  Lillith’s gaze swept the room, locking Saahira’s with an intensity that brought goosebumps to her skin. “And some of you may find your darkest desires come to fruition.”

  Saahira wanted to look away, but the pull was too great—a familiar heat rushed beneath her skin and flowed between her thighs.

  -You will.-

  She pushed the voices away and forced her eyes to her paper.

  “How many of you have communed with the other side?” Lillith continued as if she hadn’t made Saahira’s heart nearly plunge out of her chest. “Please raise your hands.”

  Saahira chewed her lip, kept her eyes lowered, and slowly raised her hand.

  “Some of you are lying,” Lillith murmured. “You cannot hide your truths from me.”

  Just as Saahira glanced around the room, a few hands went down, and two more tentatively raised. The emotional pull from Lillith grew in intensity with every word she spoke. It plied at Saahira’s chest and caressed her lips.

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  “Now, how many of you have done what they asked?”

  Saahira kept her hand raised. A renewed blush crossed her face as the memory of one particularly late evening when the voices had awoken her edged into her mind’s eye. Sweat covering her body, a desperate need to tear away her garments, a fevered search for a peculiarly shaped item. Gods, she’d never thought it would fit…

  “And how many of you would like to summon the other side to do your bidding?”

  Four hands remained in the air. Saahira hesitated. To bring one of the voices into a tangible form? Was it safe?

  Lillith giggled and leaned back against her desk. “The conflict of emotions I see on most of your faces tells me much about you. To wonder if summoning is safe speaks well of your character.” Her eyes rested on a girl with yellow hair. “Your lack of fear may be your undoing, Kaylee. Please, lower your hands.”

  Kaylee frowned and dropped her arm.

  Flexing her fingers, Saahira hid her hand beneath the table as if it had betrayed her and refocused her stare on her quill.

  “Many of you will come to understand that communing with demons is one of the greatest magics offered to mortals. A successful summon can grant you unthinkable powers in enchantments, curses, hexlations, spellcraft, and necromancy.”

  A dark-skinned girl with bright pink hair raised her hand.

  Lillith nodded toward her. “Yes, Nia?”

  “If a summon can do that, then why do we have classes that cover the same subjects?”

  “An excellent question, pet.” A shiver ran across the room. Saahira sensed the yearning from herself and her peers—they all craved Lillith’s attention. “Pray, tell me, who do you think a demon considers first and foremost when they are summoned?”

  Nia fingered the long braid over her shoulder. “Themselves?”

  “Yes, very good. And if you do not have adequate knowledge of these different kinds of magics, what do you think will happen?”

  Nia blinked and looked at those sitting on either side of her before answering. “Would they really take advantage of our ignorance?”

  Lillith wandered between the tables, her patient stroll reading as if she didn’t have a goal in mind until she reached the edge of Nia’s table.

  “Taking advantage of mortals is what we demons are best at.” She cupped Nia’s cheek in one hand. Nia’s eyes widened, and her lips parted as Lillith leaned forward. “Every… single… day.” Lillith stopped when her lips were mere inches from her pupil’s.

  A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Nia’s face, and her chest rose and fell with her uneven breaths.

  “Don’t you want more, sweet Nia?” Lillith murmured, but it rang clearly in the ears of all her students.

  “I-I… Y-yes…”

  “So easily?” Lillith pulled away and stroked Nia’s hair, amusement painted on her features. “Even if it means losing years off of your life?”

  Nia’s throat hopped with her swallow. “Yes…”

  Jealousy that Nia was the one who held Lillith’s attention washed over Saahira. She would give more than Nia could offer. More than anyone in the room could offer. Anything—

  Lillith released Nia’s face, and the enchantment over the room evaporated. “And that, my pet, is why you must learn to protect yourselves.”

  Soft gasps for air rolled over the class, and Saahira touched her chest. Lillith had persuaded a full room to relinquish their lives with one sweet question. The power their teacher held over them was terrifying.

  Nia shook her head and covered her face. “O-of course, my lady.”

  “Please, succubi do not deserve such titles.” Lillith smiled at Renelor. “Do we, Renelor?”

  Renelor shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and his peers did the same. Saahira swallowed the same fear that plagued her with her own demons. They knew everything. Lillith saw everything.

  -She will help you welcome us,- they sang to Saahira. -Allow her to see.-

  Saahira’s fingers trembled around her quill. They had never been so vocal all at once. And there was a new fervor and depth to their choir, as if they’d eased closer to spread their hands across her skin. She swallowed a moan.

  “Let us begin with an answer to the question that three of you pondered.” Lillith looked pointedly at Kaylee. “Summoning is anything but safe.”

  Kaylee’s indignant frown returned, and she toyed with her quill.

  “There are six different classes of demons who are willing to answer to a mortal for the right price. Which one of these will greet you and what they ask of you is determined by a multitude of factors. It is not a perfect science—either side may only guess.” Lillith raised her hand and pointed at the chalkboard. Six stars appeared as she spoke their names. “Leliouria, Aeria, Chthonia, Hydraia, Bypochtbonia, and Eroria.”

  Saahira copied the names down on and underlined each one.

  “Eroria, or the fallen, are the class of demons I belong to. Incubi and imps also answer to this call. You will find our demands quite…physical.” Her salacious smile made Saahira’s grip tighten around her quill as she wrote the word physical.

  “The Bypochtbonia are fearsome demons that cannot commune readily with mortals,” Lillith continued. “Most cannot speak, see, or hear, making them very difficult to control. They thrive and feed on fear, and their appearances reflect this. If you summon a demon from this class, I advise shifting your studies to another focus. Yes, Eland?”

  A boy with black hair and a violet shawl over his uniform lowered his hand. “What happens if we don’t like what we summon? Can we try again?”

  “Another excellent question. What bright pets I have.” Lillith giggled. “Yes, you may try again. However, it is highly likely that you will summon a different demon of the same class.”

  “What happens to the first one?” Nia asked.

  “Ah. You must slay your summon to dismiss it.”

  “We have to kill a demon?” Renelor’s voice cracked in the middle of his question.

  “You do not have to kill it, dear Renelor. You can keep it at your side and let it whittle away at your patience and life force until the end of your days instead.” Lillith twirled a lock of her hair around one finger. “I will tell you personally that we flourish beneath cowardice.”

  “Is…is it hard? To kill a demon?” Nia asked.

  “That depends on you, sweet girl. If you can ignore its cries for mercy and pleading to your emotions as you steal its mortal life away, it can be quite easy.”

  Saahira penned a quivering note at the bottom of her paper. Be ready to kill.

  “Are there any further questions? Or are we ready to move on?”

  The class was silent, and a few students shook their heads. Saahira heard someone whisper two rows up and then a giggle. Lillith’s tail swung to the side and cracked like a whip, startling Saahira and everyone around her.

  “If you have something to share, I recommend utilizing this forum.” Lillith frowned and looked at the two exchanging whispers. “Dimitri? Lily?”

  “Sorry,” they muttered in unison, shrinking down behind their table.

  “Thoughts? Questions?”

  “N-no,” Lily murmured. She tucked her chin to her chest and her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, masking her face.

  “Very good.” She lowered her tail, and her smile returned. “Next are the Hydraia, or water demons. These take many forms, from hydras to sirens to the great Leviathan himself. This class enjoys summoners with affinities to water magic, as their requests tend to draw directly from their element.

  “Fourth are the Chthonia. They are land-bound demons that often burrow deep into the ground with their worm-like bodies. Some appear as giant squids or serpents. Despite their appearances, these demons demand knowledge. They will pry your mind and drink your energy. Chthonia are intelligent creatures and are not to be toyed with. Lily?”

  “Yes, um, what exactly do you mean? By prying our minds?” Lily was still half-hidden behind her table. “Like, do they ask us a lot of questions?”

  “They may. However, most would rather feel the information for themselves.” Lillith leaned against Lily’s table and reached forward. As she traced Lily’s ear, she continued, “They have the tendrils to do just that.”

  Lily gasped and clapped her hands over her ears.

  Slick tendrils sliding through my ears…? Saahira tried to push away the mental image before it started. It wasn’t enough. She focused on Lillith’s wings and tail and swallowed the building lump in her throat.

  Lillith moved back to her desk and clasped her hands in her lap. “The Aeria are demons of the air. Humans cannot see them. However, elves, fae, vampires, and other demons can. For this reason, there are very few humans who have successfully summoned an Aeria.” She laid a hand on her chest. “They can take any shape they wish, and they will demand the very air you breathe.”

  “How are we supposed to kill something like that?” Dimitri asked.

  “Good question, little elf, but that is not an answer I can give you today. Have faith. You will learn exactly that as you continue your studies here.”

  Dimitri grumbled something, then visibly flinched when Lillith raised her tail.

  She hummed her approval, looked back at the board, and pointed at the last star. “Finally, the Leliouria. This is the highest class of demon there is.” Her beautiful face became strangely serious. “Leliouria are immensely powerful, and their demands have killed thousands of mortals. On the very rare chance that you summon one, I have been asked to help you kill it. Immediately.”

  Saahira paused in the middle of her notes and looked up. Everyone in the classroom silently exchanged curious looks. Some expressions were worried, others confused.

  Renelor looked angry.

  “Go ahead, Renelor. Ask your question.” Lillith’s lips remained in a thin line.

  “Why would we ever kill something so powerful?” Renelor shook his head. “Especially if it’s so rare?”

  “Please allow me to quote our darling headmaster. A Leliouria’s demands could put the lives of yourself, your peers, and everyone you know at risk. They are called ‘worldenders’ in my tongue and are feared by all other demon classes.” Lillith picked a white speck off of her dress and flicked it into the air. “That fear, however, brings on a certain level of respect. And…curiosity.” Heat returned to her words, and her cheeks pinked. “Could you imagine feeling that level of power take control of you?” Her shoulders trembled, she wiggled her hips, and she giggled. Saahira fought to breathe—the air in the room cloyed with Lillith’s excitement. “Oh, my, I can hardly stand thinking about it. Submitting to a Leliouria—”

  “M-Miss Lillith, p-please…” Nia’s fingertips dug into the tabletop, and her face was just as flush as Saahira’s felt.

  “Oh, yes. My apologies, students.” Lillith ran a hand through her hair, and the heat in the room evaporated. Saahira gasped for breath, dropped her quill, and wiped her damp palms on her skirts. Many of her classmates did the same. “Please, if you would, do not repeat what you just heard to our darling headmaster.”

  The bells chimed overhead, and a collective sigh of relief filled the room. Saahira gently blew a steady breath over her fresh notes before rolling up her papers. Then she tucked them away beside her quill and ink bottle in her satchel. After gathering her things, she waited for everyone to leave the room before collecting her books. The longer she lagged behind, the better—that way, no one else could see her old editions or poor clothing.

  “Saahira,” Lillith purred.

  Saahira’s chin snapped up. When had Lillith moved beside her? Was she taking too long? “I… I’m sorry. I’m leaving right now.”

  “You may take all the time you need, sweet girl.” Lillith touched Saahira’s cheek. “I did not want to bring unneeded attention to you in class.”

  “Attention? To what?” Saahira fought not to lean into Lillith’s delicate fingers. Gods, what she could do with those fingers…

  “How long have you heard the Six?”

  Saahira blinked. “The Six? I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You hear them all, pet. Every class of demon calls to you.” Lillith’s fingers traveled down to Saahira’s chin.

  -Open yourself, Saahira.-

  “The choir…?”

  Lillith giggled. “What a quaint name for such a rare gift.”

  -Call us forth.-

  A hundred thoughts raced through Saahira’s mind, drowning out the demon’s commands. Rare gift? She thought of having to kill her first summon with her own hands. Every class? Pictured tendrils reaching into her ears and picking at her mind. Taking control? Imagined having to give up the very air she breathed.

  “Saahira,” Lillith gently called her back to attention and let her arm fall to her side. “This is a personal request. You have the attention of very powerful forces. Do not let them play you for a fool.”

  Saahira shivered and squirmed in her chair. “Thank you, Lillith.” She stood, retrieved her books, and shouldered her satchel. There was too much to think about. Too little to say. Without another word, she hurried out of the room to her next class.

  The choir laughed.

  She’d never heard them laugh before.

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