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know anything at all, do you?” She made a disgusted sound and then spat on the floor. Why? It wasn’t even to ward off evil. She was the worst thing in the room. “Your headmistress is a joke.” And she seemed more intent on insulting us than actually teaching. Sinister magic was the use of a life-force entity such as blood or the soul to summon a demon to be used with the specific purpose of harming another person or for personal gain.

Fanning her hands out, Agatha drew an arcane circle on the floor around her feet. Several of the students in the back of the room stood up to try and catch a glimpse of it. Goose bumps pricked my skin. The air grew cool, then cold, then frosty until I swore I could see snowflakes clinging to the windowsill.

“You can’t do this!” Orla whimpered.

But no guards came to make her stop. And none of us could do anything but sit or lean and watch as she summoned a demon onto Academy grounds. The thing that appeared, molecule by molecule in the constricting circle of her magic, was a low demon at best. It was thick around the waist and squat in stature. Its two eyes were squished into thin slits like the face of a pug. When it was fully materialised, it stood inside the circle with her but didn’t attack her on sight like every other demon I had ever encountered would have.

At first, I thought it might not have seen her. But then she reached out a pointed boot and nudged it in the back. Still, it didn’t do anything. In fact, it turned around until it stood and looked out at us. As soon as it saw us, the demon went into a frenzy. It launched and spat at the circle, scratching at the sides as though trying to get to us.

Beside me, Diana’s face was a mask of disbelief. “Why isn’t it attacking her?” she said.

“Because it’s scared,” Orla responded.

“It’s a demon.”

There was no answer to that. Even the low demons were programmed by their very nature to be destructive. The only way it wouldn’t attack a person was if it sensed an even greater darkness in them.

“You see my point?” Agatha said. When nobody answered, she walked up to the demon as though it was a poodle and slit its throat with one of her nails. It didn’t do a single thing to stop her. As the life-force faded from the demon’s eyes and it began to slump over, Agatha lifted it up by its arm and placed her palm on its chest. There was a collective hiss of fear as her purple magic wound the demon in thorny vines. The vines began to convulse as though they were hollow and suctioning the demon’s essence. Though it was dead, the demon jerked and hissed. Diana’s face contorted.

Orla’s wings drooped and she sort of wilted in her seat. When the transfer was complete, the demon was nothing but a grey sliver of skin and bones. She dropped it onto the ground and stomped on it. The demon’s remains turned into a pile of ash. Somebody in the back was dry-heaving.

Agatha dusted her hands together. “Now, is that the kind of thing you were thinking of when you mentioned the fens coming to your aid, Isla? Or, like your classmates, are you horrified by what you’ve just witnessed and would rather not be associated with it even if it might mean saving your lives?”

Isla was silent for the first time I’d ever known her. I wished Lex was around to see this. Then again, if Lex were around, she and Agatha would probably be involved in a screaming match right about now. Of the two of them, I couldn’t be sure who was more wicked. All I knew was that Lex’s hedge magic would not have allowed her to be okay with whatever just happened.

“So,” Agatha said, “we’ve all seen the destruction the malachim have wrought on our world. Once upon a time the malachim were the lowest of the order of angels. So low they resided in the Earth dimension and their unmaking is less than a blip on the magical scales.”

Orla made a face. “I’m not sure about anyone else but whether they are low or not, I would love to have a guardian angel.” There was a general murmur of agreement. “You know, in times of great danger, malachim have been known to sacrifice themselves to save the person they’re watching? Or they can imbue that person with their powers?”

Agatha snickered. “Isn’t that a lovely fairy tale? Wishing for things that can no longer happen is a sure-fire way to an early demise.” She stared Orla down when the sprite seemed like she wanted to say something else.

“We know the Abyss in which they were trapped has now been opened,” Agatha continued. “This means that the keeper of the gate is in play. One of Lucifer’s first disciples. At least tell me somebody knows his name.”

Most of the room didn’t dare to speak. Finally, Diana huffed. “Apollyon.”

Agatha nodded. “Who is he?”

“He was once an angel too. Not a seraphim but one of a lower order. Lucifer turned him into a demon after they fell.”

“And what is his task?”

“To collect souls.”

From the left side of the room, one of the Pantheon Fae disagreed. “The collection of souls is Azrael’s job.”

I’d bet he regretted saying anything when Agatha’s lips pulled into a straight line. Diana continued before Agatha could do something ruthless. “Azrael leads spirits into the Sea of Souls for rest. The Abyss is not that.”

“Indeed,” Agatha continued. “The Abyss is where those souls who are no longer worthy of salvation are reaped. They are used by Apollyon as a power source. It is said that their essence allows the opening of the seals into the heavenly realm.”

“Isn’t that all conjecture?” Isla asked, having found her voice once more. “We don’t know any

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