Saahira awoke once more with the sun, long before the bells that would wake the rest of her dormitory.

  The ingrained routine she’d built for years urged her to rise, fetch water from the well, and help her mother prepare breakfast. Once it was ready, she’d wake Isa and the three of them would eat together. Raleigh was always gone long before then, hard at work at the forge before the sun rose so that he could be home by supper.

  Saahira wished that her mother and sister would be there waiting for her in the dining hall. Isa would ask dozens of questions while Saahira and Violette took turns answering. Then they would giggle at Saahira’s evening tales from The Laughing Bull.

  No one would be there watching them, wondering how best to ruin their day. Crumple their notes? Break the few glass dishes they kept in the house? Insult their lack of expensive clothing?

  Saahira closed her eyes. For a time, she lay in her comfortable bed, hugging one of the extra pillows to her chest. The perfumes from her bath still lingered on her skin, and she inhaled deeply.

  I belong here.

  There were enough others who believed as much. And after the powerful sensation she’d summoned within her the day prior, she was starting to believe the same.

  With one more breath, Saahira opened her eyes and pushed herself to sitting.

  “Sun’s greetings to you, Saahira,” Nia murmured, then yawned.

  Saahira started in surprise, rustling the thick blanket in her lap. “G-good morning, Nia.” She gathered her blanket between her hands and laughed nervously. “I didn’t expect you to be up so early.”

  “I did not sleep well, admittedly.” Nia’s voice held the hoarse edge of exhaustion.

  “Are you alright?” Saahira turned to face Nia, resting her back against the wall.

  “I believe so. Regardless, as in all things, this too will pass.” Nia yawned again, then sat up. “I spoke with Kaylee at length yesterday. It seems that I…misjudged her.” She removed the tie from the end of her hair and plucked apart her long pink braid with her fingers. “It is most unfortunate, considering our stations.”

  “Your stations?” Saahira tilted her head to the side. “Can I ask what that means?”

  “You may always ask. The Erikson family has traded Chivari and Nagatsu textiles with the Ni?ni??la? Kingdom for many generations.” Nia brushed her hand through her loosened hair, joining the tendrils together. “I briefly met Lord Erikson in passing, but never his daughter. On our first day together in the sanctum, Kaylee was very easy to speak with. Our friendship seemed…fated, I believe you would say in Chivarian.”

  Saahira winced. She had come to understand the high standings of the student body’s families, but hadn’t considered their working together. “Did I mess everything up?”

  Nia smiled gently, lighting her dark eyes, and shook her head. “No. While I still maintain that Cyprus’s approach was unnecessary and tactless, you did nothing wrong. If anyone is to blame, I would place it on Kaylee’s unwillingness to see reason and my na?veté.”

  Saahira toyed with the blanket between her fingers. A thought came to her that hurt even to consider, but she felt the need to suggest it anyway. “If… If it’s easier not to be friends with me, Nia—”

  “That will not be necessary. My relationship with you notwithstanding, Kaylee is not a person with whom I wish to be friends.” Nia’s normally casual speech sounded more rigid. More royal. She straightened her shoulders and sat up a little straighter. “The Sanctum of the Nine Arts holds many of my firsts in its future, and I would much rather share them with others with open hearts and open minds.”

  Are you sure? Saahira bit the words back. But she couldn’t help the smile on her face. “Is it terrible that I’m happy to hear you say that?”

  Nia relaxed and giggled. “I don’t think so. Far worse if you were to tell me I’d made the wrong decision.”

  “Maybe I’m biased, but I don’t think you did.” Saahira shook her head. “Will anything happen with the textile trade?”

  “At worst, I believe the prices may increase for a time. However, my mother is a stubborn woman. Ni?ni??la? trades just as many rare goods in exchange for textiles, and they’ll stabilize soon enough.” Nia stood and fished a wooden hairbrush with thick bristles from her trunk, then stroked it through her hair. “This is assuming Lord Erikson takes the time to hear his daughter’s complaints. I didn’t know he was so…preoccupied in Noctia.”

  Saahira’s eyes widened.

  “I must wonder if my mother knows.” The mischievous smile from the Final Bar returned to Nia’s lips, and her gaze glittered with glee. “Ah, well, I suppose Chivarian nobility must fill their time with something.” She looked at her hairbrush, then looked at Saahira. With a soft hum, she slid from her blankets and crossed the room before sitting on the edge of Saahira’s bed. She held the brush up and wiggled her wrist. “May I braid your hair?”

  Saahira looked at the black hair tumbling over her shoulders, unusually silky from the prior night’s wash. “The only person who’s ever done that is my mother.” She laughed nervously. “Do you think it would look good?”

  “All ladies are made lovelier with braids.” Nia gracefully tucked her knees beneath her and twirled her finger in the air. “Turn around.”

  Saahira did as she was asked, and Nia inched forward to reach her. As Nia loosened a few of the tangles in Saahira’s hair with delicate strokes, Saahira was surprised by how much easier Nia’s brush parted the knots than her own metal brush. “That doesn’t hurt at all.”

  “It shouldn’t,” Nia replied, sounding amused. “A?ál? makes the finest boar bristle brushes in the world.”

  There was a horse hair brush that Saahira’s mother had kept for herself. A gift from her father. While Nia worked, Saahira began to understand why she was so protective of it. “Could you tell me more about A?ál??”

  “Of course. What do you wish to know?”

  Everything. “Hmm. What was it like where you grew up? In Ni?ni??la? Kingdom?”

  “Crowded.” Nia laughed. “Not just because of my siblings. The anal? where I lived, which you would call a ‘castle,’ is the very center point in Ni?ni??la?. Unlike Chivarian castles, however, houses of nobility are attached directly to the anal?, and the high market snakes in between. This meant a person could begin their morning at a jeweler’s stall, then walk into a noblewoman’s house for lunch, and then move on directly to the grand hall of the queen.”

  “Nobles keep their doors open?”

  “Reception rooms do not have doors.” Nia parted Saahira’s hair, laying a thick, black tendril over each shoulder. “The queen keeps her reception room available to them at all times, and nobility does the same. It has ensured peace in Ni?ni??la? for centuries. For me, it meant seeing and hearing hundreds of faces and voices each morning.” Her fingernails clicked as she wrapped the first braid.

  “And what about…everyone else?” Saahira tugged at a loose thread on her nightgown.

  “Hm?”

  People like me. “People who aren’t nobility. Where do they live?”

  “Ah. The lower classes live on the outer ring of the anal?. They require a summons from nobility or the queen herself to pass through.” Nia started on another braid. “That said, however, my mother has ensured that no citizen of Ni?ni??la? goes hungry, ignored, or unsheltered from Orun’s Golden Hours. I spent many days sharing meals with lower-class children and their families.”

  “I see.” Saahira wasn’t quite sure how that made her feel.

  “They are cherished memories, Saahira,” Nia said softly. “You see, among the bickering of ten sisters, the dizzying expectations of multiple tutors, and the weight of choosing my own destiny, speaking with those outside of my circle was grounding and refreshing. Just as I feel when I speak to you.”

  The sincerity in Nia’s voice helped blur the unpregnable line between her descriptions of “nobility” and “lower class.” Saahira nodded. “I feel the same way when I talk with you.”

  “I’m glad.” Nia tied off the second braid and admired her work for a moment. “Now, may I do your makeup?”

  By the time they reached demonology, Saahira rushed to stuff the last remnants of a breakfast roll into her mouth—very carefully, as she didn’t want to ruin Nia’s work on her lips.

  The mirror had shown her a completely different person: bright amber eyes lined in dark coal, soft ruby lips, black hair intricately braided without a whisp out of place. She still wore her own simple, cornflower blue dress and black cloak—there was no way she’d fit into Nia’s smaller wardrobe—but Nia’s additions gave her a little more confidence.

  They slid into the same back table Saahira had used two days prior just as the final bell rang. As they took their seats, Kaylee glanced at them from the front row. She frowned at Nia, then turned her furious glare onto Saahira.

  Saahira maintained her gaze with every drop of composure she could muster until Dimitri’s snicker from the left distracted her. His and Lily’s eyes were also trained on Saahira and Nia. Dimitri whispered something to a giggling Lily.

  I belong here, Saahira repeated to herself for a second time that morning. She straightened in her chair.

  “Good morning, sweet students.” Lillith’s sultry voice commanded everyone’s attention forward. “It is good to see you’ve all returned to my humble lessons in one piece.”

  It’s only the third day! Saahira thought as she quickly fished her notes, quill, and ink from her satchel.

  “Since today’s lesson is of great import, I will do my best not to…influence your emotions.” Lillith giggled. “It can be quite difficult with my passion for teaching.”

  A few students squirmed in their chairs. Saahira didn’t feel the weight or heat of Lillith’s power, but the way the professor spoke held a power of its own.

  Lillith strutted to the chalkboard, her long tail swaying behind her. The leathery wings at her sides stretched wide, spreading the scent of her perfume over the classroom. Lifting a piece of chalk, she drew a square in an angled, horizontal perspective. “Today, we will discuss the Wall.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Saahira tried to copy down the square, but struggled to keep the same proportions. Good enough, she thought on her third try.

  “This is the Mortal Plane. The current location of your very existence.” Lillith drew a line and wrote ‘Mortal Plane’ off to the side of the square. Saahira did the same.

  Then, with one finger, Lillith traced a sideways “S” over her square. A glowing red line followed the motion, flickering lightly like a flame. The tips of the “S” touched the opposite sides of the square while the centers crossed. One curve arced over the Mortal Plane, while the other ducked beneath. “This is the Spiritual Plane, where celestials, demons, and mortal essences exist. Both the upper and lower halves of the Spiritual Plane have many names in the mortal tongue: heaven and hell, paradise and the underworld, and so on.

  “Demons like myself are born here. We call our home Ix’ryzr.” She wrote ‘Celestials’ in the upper curve and ‘Demons’ in the lower curve. Beneath ‘Demons,’ she wrote ‘Ix’ryzr.’ “Mortal essences that have passed through occupy all regions of the Spiritual Plane.”

  Lillith tapped the uppermost point of the top curve and then the lowest point of the bottom curve with her chalk. “Our main focus, however, lies right here” —she circled the point where her magic and the chalk met in the center—“where the Mortal Plane and Spiritual Planes meet. This is referred to as the Wall.

  “The Wall is the barrier between the Spiritual Plane and the Mortal Plane. Celestials and demons fight to occupy this space just beyond your reach, observing and persuading those they deem fit to do their bidding. While we have known of your plane since the dawn of time, you have not always been aware of ours. Not until many, many years ago, when a mortal sensed our presence, heard our voices, and called our names.”

  Lillith looked over her drawing, her gaze thoughtful. “Many of my darling students who are new to the sanctum often ask if a demon choosing them over a celestial is damning to their essence—or ‘souls’ as some mortals prefer to call them. Know this: all summons carry intents that can help and harm you and others around you. What you choose to do with this power is what will tip the scales of your morality.”

  “Easy for a succubus to say,” Renelor grumbled.

  Lillith turned her cool gaze on the mouthy redhead. “There are multiple, well-documented instances of sorcerers calling upon their celestials to raze cities, Renelor. Perhaps take some time to study in the library that our darling headmaster helped curate for you?”

  Renelor flushed and ducked his head over his notes.

  “Any further questions or comments? No? Let us move on, then.” Quills scratched on paper and parchment as Lillith drew a second square—this one thankfully flat—beside the first. She drew two curving shapes in chalk inside the square, then created two more curving shapes with her red magic. “It is imperative to remember, sweet students, that while the Mortal Plane is constant, the Spiritual Plane will gradually move and shift. The shorter the distance between both planes, the thinner the Wall.”

  The glowing red shapes inched over the ones in chalk, consuming new sections while leaving others behind.

  “Suddenly, mortals who never knew of our existence will begin to hear our voices and feel our delicate touches, testing our connection,” Lillith continued. “Sometimes these connections vanish once the Spiritual Plane moves on. Other times, we may find a mortal of interest and remain at their side, no matter the distance.”

  Saahira shivered. She tried to remember the exact night that the choir had first sung to her. It was dark, and she was sleeping… She’d thought it was all a dream. A wild fantasy concocted from too many days spent reading about things that didn’t exist. But then they’d returned to her the next night at the Laughing Bull. And then again in the middle of the night.

  Another touch of Lillith’s finger left a single blue spark in one of the places where the chalk and magic overlapped. “The Sanctum of the Nine Arts is located here, where the Spiritual Plane moves the least.” Lillith’s gaze flickered to Saahira. “For the convenience of our budding Demonologists, the Wall is very thin at all times in the sanctum.” She looked away from Saahira to a raised hand. “Question, Lily?”

  Despite sitting with Dimitri again and her ingratiating giggles, Lily seemed much more attentive than she’d been in their previous class. “When the Wall is thinner, is it normal for, um, a demon’s voice to be louder?”

  “Oh yes, sweet. Quite normal indeed.” Lillith’s wings quivered. “And on black moons like tonight, the Wall is especially thin. The voice you hear will sound as if it is right there beside you.”

  Lily nodded and toyed with her quill between her fingers. “He can’t cross the Wall, though. Not unless I summon him, correct?”

  He… Lily heard a demon, too.

  “Correct. Let me also reiterate the dangers of summoning a demon unprepared. I must request that you, and the rest of my dear students, do not attempt a summoning ritual without my presence. No matter how eager the voice.” Lillith looked over the classroom with a narrowed gaze. “I will ensure you are ready. However, if you ignore my warnings, I cannot promise your safety. Yes, Nia?”

  “What about the black moon changes the wall?”

  “Both the sun and the moon hold powers specific to celestials and demons. All natures of magic are released during a full moon on the Mortal Plane, making mortals—and the Wall—more powerful with it. A black moon is when the Spiritual Plane experiences a full moon to similar effects. Because of this, a demon’s magic is amplified. You must ignore their demands, which will be more difficult than usual. If they become unbearable, have your resident mentor contact me immediately. I will help you. Yes, Eland?”

  Eland lowered his arm. “I had a question about your drawings.”

  Lillith brightened and turned back to the chalkboard. “Of course.”

  “In your second square, there’s space that neither plane touches. Shouldn’t the Mortal Plane fill it in like the first example?”

  “Excellent question, dear Eland.” Lillith tapped her chalk on one of the empty sections he’d mentioned. “There are multiple gaps between the planes that mortals call the Void. You will not see them or feel them in passing.”

  “What’s inside them?” Eland asked.

  Lillith smiled. “As the name suggests: nothing. Not life, not breath, not light.” She sighed, and a hint of her power settled over the classroom like a fog. “True darkness.”

  Saahira tried to ignore the goosebumps on her forearms and focus on her notes.

  “There are magical applications to the Void which your other professors and I will teach you in time. For now, let us remain on the topic of the Wall.” Lillith stepped to the side and drew a small, horizontal line. “There are two crucial…rules, per se. First, demons cannot pass beyond the Wall without a mortal contract.” She wrote the rule out beside the line. “A summoning ritual is necessary to call upon a willing demon and establish a contract.

  “Second, mortals cannot survive on the other side of the Wall.” Lillith’s expression grew somber as she wrote the second rule. “I have personally witnessed mortals agree to having their contracts carried out in Ix’ryzr. Should you agree to the same, know that you forfeit your life. Your question, Kaylee?”

  “What kinds of contracts do demons like to make?” Kaylee asked, leaning over the table.

  Saahira had forgotten about Kaylee’s eagerness to summon a demon. Did Kaylee hear a voice, too?

  Lillith frowned. “Much like mortals, demons have our own personal desires, wishes, and needs. It will depend on what they seek in the Mortal Plane, and what they seek from you.” She tipped her head to the side, and the delicate golden chain hanging around her horns sparkled in the lamplight. “It could involve feeding off of your energy, stealing years of your life, invading pieces of your mind, using the very breath in your lungs. No matter what the request, a contract will always have terms most favorable to the demon. You must be able to understand what you sacrifice while protecting yourself from their influence in your agreement.”

  “Why would anyone make a contract, then?” Dimitri asked bitterly.

  Lillith’s amusement returned. “To gain powerful magic, answer curiosity, find a lifelong friendship, sate your lust. Your reasons are your own, dear Dimitri.”

  Dimitri wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms but said nothing more.

  Saahira raised her hand.

  “Yes, Saahira?” Lillith’s voice softened. Or was that just Saahira’s imagination?

  “What are some of the reasons a demon takes interest in a mortal?” Lillith had promised to review them, and ever since the choir had eased off, her curiosity only grew.

  “A good question, though a difficult one to answer. Similarly to the choice of contract, it will depend on the demon and the mortal. However, the different classes of demons tend to search for similar traits in their summoners.” Lillith moved to the opposite side of her squares and started a new list. “Eroria, like myself, are drawn to passion, fire, and sexual energy. All three elements are typically parts of our contracts. Yes, Nia?”

  Saahira looked to her side as Nia asked, “Is…sexual energy different from magical energy?” Her blush was slight, but Saahria was close enough to see it.

  “Ah, very good, sweet Nia. It is easiest to think of sexual energy as another elemental energy to draw on. It can be just as powerful, and a number of demons thrive upon it.”

  “I…I see.” Nia’s blush grew deeper. A few other faces in class burned red.

  “It is nothing to be embarrassed about, sweet students.” Lillith smiled, and the warmth of her magic returned. “You will come to learn in time that it is a most pleasurable power.” Despite standing at the front of the classroom, Saahira could feel the stroke of Lillith’s fingers down her throat. The touch of her lips on her shoulder. Kaylee somehow looked more excited.

  Lillith released them, and there was a collective gasp. Nia hissed for air beside a rasping Saahira.

  “Aren’t you supposed to teach us how to protect against that?” Renelor snapped.

  “Of course, Renelor. In a later class.” Lillith giggled and returned to the chalkboard. “For now, let us continue to answer Saahira’s question. Next are the Hydraia. These demons are drawn to water-attuned magic users, and often prefer swift thinkers and steady personalities.”

  Saahira thought of Khuwadzi and Professor Moborí. From what little she knew of both of them, the description seemed to fit like a glove.

  “Then there are the Bypochtbonia.” Lillith tapped her finger against the chalk. “These demons are quite interesting, as they prefer the company of children.”

  Dimitri laughed. “You would think all demons would prefer children. Much easier to take advantage of, I would imagine.”

  “Incorrect, Dimitri.” Lillith narrowed her eyes and looked between Renelor and Dimitri. “And I would ask you raise your hands with questions.”

  Renelor shrank in his seat. Dimitri’s arrogant smile remained, and he gestured to Lillith as if giving her the floor. Saahira rolled her eyes.

  “If you recall from our first class, Bypochtbonia cannot hear, see, or speak. They are best understood by those adept at reading body language. Children are astonishingly intuitive in this area. In addition, as Bypochtbonia feed on fear, this is far easier to attain than from an adult. Yes, Lily?”

  “Are you saying they scare kids and feed on it?”

  “No, of course not,” Lillith shook her head. “Well-contracted demons will protect their summoners to the death. Children are simply afraid of far more encounters and experiences in the world. Question, Saahira?”

  Saahira glanced over her notes from the first class. “When you first talked about Bypochtbonia, you said we should change our focus if we summon one. Why?”

  “An excellent catch, Saahira. Indeed, I did. Bypochtbonia do not fare well with mortals they did not meet as children. They are the demons I witnessed offering contracts to be carried out in Ix’ryzr. If one should appear for one of my dear students, we will assess our best course of action once we reach that point.”

  Saahira nodded, wondering if that would be relevant for her. Since she heard all six classes of demon, just what exactly would appear when she completed a summoning?

  “Now, on to the Chthonia. I mentioned in our first meeting that they have a hunger for knowledge, seeking sharp minds and intelligent summoners. They may prefer darkness, but they’re arguably the most enlightened of us all. And, as I said before, they will pry their way to it if necessary.

  “Aeria demons first and foremost prefer summoners who can see them: elves, half-elves, flügels, fae, therianthropes. They search for free-spirited individuals with light hearts. Because of this and their brighter appearances, mortals often confuse them with celestials. It does not help that some Aeria lie about their demon origins to confuse their summoners. Yes, Kaylee?”

  “How do you tell the difference, then?”

  Lillith grinned. “Aeria feed on the air you breathe. It will always be a part of your contract. From what I have learned of celestials, they will not make such a request. Dimitri?”

  “How is someone supposed to live with a summon like that?” Dimitri lowered his hand and folded both arms over his chest.

  “Thank you for raising your hand, sweet Dimitri,” Lillith said. Dimitri bristled. “You ensure that your contract is not all of your air. You adapt to share.”

  Dimitri grumbled something unintelligible.

  “Summoning is not for those unwilling to share their lives, dear Dimitri. There is no shame in studying demonology without ever summoning a demon,” Lillith responded as if the whole class had heard him. Dimitri narrowed his eyes. Nia laughed under her breath.

  “The final class of demons, of course, are the Leliouria,” Lillith said, returning to her list. “These summonings are so rare that it is impossible to say just what draws them to a mortal. They have appeared for those in seats of great power, and for others with uncanny magical aptitude but little in the way of status.” She laughed softly. “Perhaps, if you manage to summon one, we can ask why before we kill them.”

  Silence enveloped the class.

  “Well, then, my sweet students. Let us see who has been paying attention.” Lillith waved her hand over the chalkboard, and her writing vanished. “Eland, will you please come to the chalkboard and draw a diagram of the Mortal Plane and Spiritual Plane?”

  Lillith spent the rest of the class quizzing each student. Saahira looked over her notes and redrew the star over the Sanctum of the Nine Arts’s location on the planes. She read over each demon class and their favored aspects. Did she really fit into any of them?

  Why did you choose me?

  The choir didn’t reply.

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