by Jade Alters
“What of the victors? What tactics do we need to expand upon?” Not exactly the man I expected to come to anyone's rescue, but we all breathe a collective sigh of relief.
“We only managed to turn the tables once we incorporated Astral tactics,” Lee pipes up first. “We have Hoster to thank for that…wherever he is.” If spirits could only blush. Instead, I float a little closer to the ceiling, further from the gathering singing my praises. I hardly feel deserving of them. I don’t even know what I did, besides scream for help.
“What, specifically, did he do?” asks Fey Rorelia. The sound of her soft song of a voice sends a chill through my very essence. Though I can’t remember any of the words we’ve exchanged, I know I’ve listened to her before. A hundred times. Once, I think her words were something of an absolute to me.
“Why don’t you ask him?” Lee counters. “I’m sure he’s here with us, somewhere.” Fey Rorelia takes a step back from the table. She lifts her glimmering eyes to the ceiling. How does she know where to look?
“Hoster?” the Fey calls up to me, “Hoster, please… If you have information that can help us combat the Lotus…you have to help us.” Her voice takes on the key of a somber sonata. It’s just enough to anchor me down, when all I want to do is bleed through a wall and disappear. Whether or not I remember it, there’s history here. I know it the same way I knew my grandma when she first appeared to me as a woman my age.
“I…I’m not sure what I did, really,” I admit. The sound of my voice summons a little swirl of blue mist to act as my form. My loose human frame takes a place at the table between Lee and Emery. “I called for help and…I think it was the spirits of my ancestors that answered. My grandma tells me I have the ability to call on them, but I’ve by no means mastered it.”
“Could you? Given some time?” Dragonlord Thise interjects. I form a lip on my face, just to chew it in consideration.
“I…I mean…I’ll try,” I say. I feel a hand on my back. It sends a shock through my entire spiritual frame. It’s the first physical sensation I’ve actually felt since I first returned to this Realm. I turn my half-formed face toward Emery. I know we knew one another as something other than friends, just not exactly what. I do my best not to dissolve to escape the uncomfortable situation, until Emery’s hand slides back down and away.
“And Cece, Dorian and Stephanie. How did you succeed in protecting your Tether?” asks Horace. I listen closely to chase the screams of fright out of my own mind. Anything not to think about what I just agreed to do. The three in question look to one another, unsure who should take the lead. Two of them start trying to talk at once before Cece eventually gets sick of it.
“I had to risk exposure,” she says over the other two. “I know I shouldn’t have, but…I didn’t see another way. The Lotus were about to slaughter Normans in the street. A lot of them.”
“They were testing us to see if we would risk unveiling ourselves to save the innocents,” Stephanie backs her up.
“None of us were brave enough to do it…besides Cece,” Dorian attests.
“I went into the streets and…I don’t know exactly how, but I used my Astral and Dragon abilities together. Like…spirit…breath? That’s the best name I’ve got for it. Their robes don’t protect them from spirit breath,” Cece explains. She leaves everyone at the meeting with perplexed hands scratching their heads or chins. Had I a chin to scratch, I might do the same.
“So…” It’s Chief Botan who finally breaks the uneasy silence. “Our best bets are…two kids who aren’t exactly sure what they’re doing?” I see rage blossom in Cece’s cheeks at the term. Kids.
“I hardly think assigning me an age range is appropriate anymore,” I assert, to stop Cece from detonating. I can hardly blame her. According to what we’ve all just heard, she managed to pull off something unlike any sort of supernatural offense in recorded history, only to be summarised as a kid. And a clueless one at that. She settles back in her seat as the Chief says:
“Right. Sorry,” to both of us.
“So, Hoster and Cece are our best bets on the front line, assuming they can do twice what they did once,” Sorceress Lily posits. She looks around for unsure nods from all concerned. “What of the rest of us?”
“According to the books I stole from the Lotus Library-”
“I’m sorry, the what?” Deliah Dalshak cuts in.
“Have you learned nothing from Grandma Ori about interrupting, mother?” Emery bites from across the table, “Sit, wait and listen. I’m sure Hoster can explain.” Just what I needed. More pressure. From an entire table of people I hardly remember. I feel like shrinking through the cracks in the seat of my chair.
“Well…I was able to infiltrate the Lotus Library with the help of my grandmother…well, her spirit. It seems I’m able to call upon the Astral energies of my bloodline…I guess.” My spectral blue body goes through the motions of rubbing the back of my bare head. I don’t feel a thing, including any improvement in my anxiety. “Anyway. I opened a rift into the Library through the Silver Realm, like I did when I saved you all. I stole a handful of books. Some of them talk about what tactics the Lotus are familiar with.”
“Which means we also know what the Lotus are less familiar with,” Sorceress Lily adds. She slides one of the cracked tomes halfway across our long table now. “We’ve been working on a key to decipher the language with the Elders, like before. So far, it looks like newer is better. The less time a supernatural race has been etched into their records, the less effective weapons they have against them.”
“That makes some level of sense,” Thise realizes. “Then, the Big Three are at the most disadvantage. Then…Vampires, then Dragons. Am I correct?”
“You are,” the Vampire named Bart confirms, “which would make the Shadewalkers the most equipped to face the Lotus head-on.”
“Hoster and me it is, then,” Cece sighs with about as much enthusiasm as I feel.
“From there, we organize the ranks in order of effectiveness?” suggests Dorian. The sound of his mighty voice, curved into a question rather than command, unsettles far more people than just me. “Dragons follow my daughter, Hoster and the Shadewalkers?”
“Vampires behind them,” Lucidous both confirms and develops in one stroke.
“And the Big Three provide support from out of range of those damned orbs,” Magister Reynold finishes off the plan. A chilling agreement floats over the table between us all. A silent acknowledgement that, however slim it might be, it’s our best chance. It’s one we have to take.
“What about the other books Hoster brought back?” Darius startles most of the group by raising his usually nonexistent voice. “That can’t be the only useful piece of thought in a whole stack of Lotus naughty-books.” In a gathering so grim, even Darius’ unusual presentation goes unaddressed – beneath it, the sentiment is solid. Is that really all we learned from those books?
“There was also a tome on the lineage of the Lotus leadership. The ultimate position in their hierarchy is called the Judge. The one who passes the sentence on potential threats to the order the Origas intended,” Sorceress Lily admits, “Anyone could hazard a guess at who that is.” The same blue-eyed, scarred devil flits across everyone’s imagination in a horrible wave.
“Besides that, most of it was about a place called ‘The Epicenter’. It’s a piece of land the Lotus and supernaturals used to consider sacred. The place where the Origas allegedly ripped one Realm into many, and the only place where they can be reunited. But it’s long since been plowed and developed,” says Chief Botan.
“It’s in the middle of San Francisco. Probably thirty feet under some skyscraper, now,” Dorian jumps in. The look on Deliah Dalshak’s face, when she realizes that both the Academy and Kyrie leaders were aware of these tomes and their translations, seems to bring Emery an astounding level of joy.
“That’s the extent of what we’ve been able to translate,” Magister Reynold admits. A sigh of disappointment swe
eps the bodies on both sides of the table. That’s it. Everything we have to go on. Guesses and useless information. It’s more than we had before, but it does little to calm the nerves of those who just had their lives on a very thin line. Those who saw others slip off that line by their dozens.
“So, what are we talking about here?” demands Rock. His fists curl against his thighs, which look about ripe to burst with the pump of blood. “A defensive strategy? Our numbers are almost small enough to fit all of us in this room. We don’t know how many the Lotus has left. If we’re forced to split into two, to protect the remaining two Tethers…how many times can we bat them away before they break through? Really?” Every face in the room seems to turn to another. There isn’t a person who doesn't wish they could answer the question. There’s also not a person who can bring themselves to.
“He’s right,” River follows. “Even if we employ creative strategies, we have no idea if we’ve even put a dent in the Lotus’ numbers. Plus…they’re adaptive. We used our Fiend transformations on them, and they still… If we give them time to prepare, we’ve already lost.”
“What do you suggest, then? An offensive?” asks Chief Botan. For the first time, he addresses River the way his son does. Like a warrior deserving of respect. But the answer doesn’t come from River.
“Why not?” asks Cece. “We know where their Library is, right? They won’t expect an attack at home, after we just scraped by from their attack on ours.”
“Hoster… Do you know how to get back there?” asks Fey Rorelia. I am in no way prepared for the sheer number of heads that turn to focus on me. I shift back in my seat, which is to say I phase halfway through it.
“I…I do. But using the Silver Realm as a bridge is risky, now. We know the Lotus have access to the Realm too, or they wouldn’t have been able to pull Heren out,” I tell her honestly. “I could do it, but I would need a day to make sure they aren’t monitoring it.”
“I think we could all use a day,” sighs Dragonlord Thise. The casualness of her expression seems to shake many of the others at the table. I get the impression her composure is usually more…composed. The woman I see before me now is disheveled and deflated from the strain of battle at her age. “Can we all agree on that? We’ll take the day to rest, while Hoster investigates a backdoor into the Lotus Library?”
“Then we strike?” Rock asks, specifically facing me.
“Tomorrow evening,” says Dorian. Everyone shifts at the impending proximity of it, but his face is resolute.
“If I can secure us a bridge across the Realm undetected…I guess I don’t see why not.”
“I guess I don’t, either,” Darius surprises me with his support. This tips the first domino in a very odd, lackadaisical sort of agreement. Down both sides of the table, everyone rises up some half-hearted toast of consent to the plan.
Whether or not any of us really believe there’s a way the Academy stays in the sky, it looks like it’s on all of us to try. But it’s on me, first.
On Top of the Wall
Cece,
The Broken Academy, D Wing Dorms
Each step down the long, carpeted path sends a tingle up my legs. It flutters butterflies through my chest. It’s just down the hall from my own room, yet it might as well be the other side of the world. In a way, to me, it is. I walk a fine, narrow path of high-ceilinged dorm room hallways between my present and past. It’s been a year since I’ve been to this part of the Broken Academy. The part where I asked my Wing Supervisor out on my first real date in the supernatural world. My heart knows the way, so I let it work my feet. That leaves my mind free to wonder about a million other things.
I run my finger over the glossy surface of the shard of Bryant, ever nestled in my pocket. I can’t believe how nervous I am. I can’t believe how lonely I feel, even with the love of Lee still ringing fresh in my ears. He would understand, though. There are others missing from my heart. One of them is gone, save for a tiny piece that I cling to like a child’s first blanket. The corner of my lip jumps up into a smirk when I realize what Bryant would have to say at what I’m doing. Something cheesy, but somehow more profound than he knows. In some ways, I think Bryant was more in touch with his humanity than I am with mine.
There’s one love, though, I can still get back. Who knows if one day is enough time to make amends for all we’ve done to one another. For the betrayal. The heartbreak. But, just like with the Lotus, I have to try. We have to try. I know he’ll regret it as much as I will if we don’t. Besides, who else will understand? Who else lost Bryant, almost as much as I have? Who else has struggled to figure things out with their parents even more than me? My knuckles hit Serge’s door.
“Who…” Serge’s voice crackles away when he pops his door inward to check on his visitor. The second he sees me, all the strength drains from his lungs. From his arms, which fall away. His deep tan turns suddenly pale. “Cece.”
I don’t wait for Serge to open his door the rest of the way. I squeeze inside the little opening he’s made. I throw my arms around his shoulders. I squeeze his head down into the top of my breasts. I hold onto Serge as long as he’ll let me. He lets himself melt into my grasp after about three, long, determined seconds. He stays there for as long as I’ll hug him. The door creaks shut behind us. I have no idea how long we stay there like that, locked together. Seconds bleed together into minutes. I lose time, space and everything else, just like the first time we made love in the rift Serge made.
“Would you like some tea?” Serge whispers, after an eternity.
“I’d love some,” I smile through my sniffles. My backside finds its way to Serge’s countertop. A steaming, fragrant mug finds its way into my hands. Serge hops up to drape his legs from the counter opposite me. He takes a meditative whiff of his own herbal brew before indulging in a long sip.
“Some trip we’ve been on, huh?” Serge asks. His lips smile, though his eyes betray his truth of uneasiness. A blunt, but honest way to paraphrase our experience together.
“Yeah,” is all I can bring myself to say to him. We both take a long sip through steaming herb fragrances. I savor every hint of sage I’ve missed in the absence of Serge in my life. We take an identical, indulgent breath after our mugs lower back down. I can’t help but snort. At least we’re both equally uncomfortable.
“So…you just come here to mend bridges in the face of mortal danger?” Serge asks outright. Equal honesty is the least of what I owe him.
“Partially,” I admit, “But…I think I have a problem you’re uniquely suited to understand.”
“I fear to ask,” Serge smirks. He takes another sip while I tell him:
“My parents are weird.” Serge chokes on a gulp of tea when he laughs.
“Good to see I’m the resident expert on something,” Serge sighs. We share a little chuckle before he crosses one leg over his knee. He leans back on the counter, his tea hovering near his chest like a professional analyst. I find his honey-gold eyes glowing at me through a twisting rise of mist. “But you’re right. I have experience to draw on there. Let’s hear it. What’s weird about them?”
“I mean, Steph’s been my best friend since I got to the Academy. Finding out she was my mom…” I start. Serge nods at me through the heat of his tea.
“I can imagine that changed things,” he fills in the gap of my loss for words. I lean back in consideration.
“You know, it didn’t, really. Not at first. Not until recently, actually” I tell him.
“How recent?” Serge asks. He leans forward from the counter, suddenly even more engaged. Odd as that is, I give it an honest thought.
“Really just this past week. Since everything’s gotten really crazy with the Lotus attacks,” I say. I can see the blood drain from Serge’s cheeks as he hears it. “What? Your face says you know more about this than I do.” I let down my tea and cross my arms to force it out of him.
“You said…parents. That means Dorian’s acting odd too, right?” Serge as
ks. I straighten up at the question.
“I…well yeah. It was like neither of them could bring themselves to look at me. Or each other. What the hell is going on, Serge?” I demand. Serge’s tea lowers to his lap with a long sigh.
“Alright…this comes from a few sources. Some of which you’re not going to like. Understand?” he prefaces.
“Just spill it, would you?” I prod him.
“Hoster noticed some secret meeting-type stuff going on with your dad and the other Kyrie leaders. He asked Darius to look into it,” Serge tells me. My face must change at the sound of that name, because Serge’s does shortly after. Whether or not I still label him as the murderer of my brother, there’s no shaking the fact that Darius Jecks is a man who changed my life. But I manage to keep quiet long enough to hear the rest of the story. “Darius overheard your parents…disagreeing over something. Something like vengeance.”
“Not…against the Academy? Still?” my voice barely makes it out as a whimper. After all this time. After everything he’s gotten back, and standing side-by-side with everyone here… Dorian couldn’t still hold hate at the core of his being. Could he?
“That’s what it sounded like, at least,” Serge tells me. He winces a little, like I might hit him. Or maybe it's because he knows how hard all of this is hitting me. “Anyway, right after that, Dorian met with Horace. They talked about some kind of new information that was going to help them achieve their mission. It was just suspicious enough for Darius to bring me in on it.”
“And?” I cut in. I don’t know if I’ll survive to the end of this roundabout retelling. I need to know. Am I in the middle of a family mutiny?
“We’re…not exactly sure,” Serge struggles to admit. “Darius and I tracked your father to the Grand Library.”
“No one’s supposed to go in there right now,” I can’t help but blurt out.