by Gage Lee
It was all too easy to imagine that scene. Even now, when we were supposedly so much more civilized than our ancient ancestors, too many Empyreals would turn to violence as a first resort. The “might makes right” philosophy had been codified into duels of honor and other customs that resulted in a lot of dead men and women over the years.
“I don’t like where this is headed,” I said to Cruzal. “You’re telling me the quorum of clan elders decided it was a good idea to go back to kidnapping kids from each other?”
A nervous murmur passed through my clan’s members, and I bit my tongue. If I worried the other clans might kidnap them, they had to be terrified.
I really needed to work on my people skills.
Cruzal paced the marble-tiled floor, her eyes downcast as she put her thoughts in order. Every second she delayed telling me the truth weighed on my heart like a ton of bricks. It couldn’t be that bad.
Could it?
“Jace,” she said, then corrected herself, “Elder Warin, the Right of Primacy allows clans to increase their numbers through duels. If a Disciple of Jade Flame challenged a Resplendent Sun to a duel of Primacy, the winner claims the loser as a member of their clan.”
She let the silence after that word hang in the air between us like a guillotine’s blade waiting to fall. I wasn’t the smartest elder, but she didn’t have to tell me the Shadow Phoenix clan was in dire straits.
Someone had tried to have us dissolved. When I’d thwarted that plan, they’d tried to scare me away with threats. And now this.
Our enemies would challenge my clan, again and again, until they had picked us off and parceled us out to other clans.
Or maybe all those seventh-year students floating around the School the past few days were daggers aimed at my heart. One of them would be no match for me, true. But if they kept the challenges coming, they’d eventually wear me down. And without an elder, the Shadow Phoenix clan would be no more.
There had to be some way to stop this madness.
“No one asked me if I agreed to this barbaric practice,” I said through gritted teeth. “As the elder of the fifth clan, surely I’m entitled to a vote.”
Cruzal’s pained expression puzzled me. She hadn’t wanted me to become a clan elder, and she’d tried to stop my clan members from coming to the School at all. So why would she care if I fell?
“Elder Warin,” she said with a sigh. “Even if you cast your vote, it wouldn’t make a difference. The quorum was established. Four to one is no different from four to zero. There’s no political way for you to walk this problem back.”
A spark of angry defiance flared to life in the dark pit of my soul. The urge to lash out at Cruzal was nearly unstoppable, and I held my tongue only by biting down on its tip.
Hard.
She hadn’t done this to my clan. Someone else, or several someone elses, were pulling the strings. Whoever it was thought they could stomp me into the dust. They clearly did not know me very well.
“Thank you for the information, Headmistress Cruzal,” I said with cold, stiff formality. “I assume my people have use of the Shadow Phoenix clan dormitory? Good. Let me get them settled in, and then I’ll come and arrange the details of their tuition and enrollment.”
The new students watched Cruzal and me, backs stiff, fists clenched. None of them had expected the difficulties they now faced, but they were all ready to back my play, no matter how dangerous or violent it was. I sensed their eagerness to fight and felt a warm glow of pride.
Followed by the sharp, cold prick of an icicle against my heart.
Because fighting was the last thing I wanted any of them to do. If other students goaded them into duels, I could lose them forever.
“You’re welcome, Elder Warin,” Cruzal said formally. “I will be in my office, awaiting your arrival.”
We bowed to one another, Cruzal bending much lower than I did, and then parted ways. I waved for my students to follow me, and they fell into step like a brood of ducklings following their mother. Unlike little birds, my students were quiet and somber, their auras dark and turbulent as storm clouds.
They were worried, and I couldn’t blame them. The other clans had thrown us a curveball before any of us knew what game we were playing. It was time to boost their morale and lay out our plans for the rest of this year.
“The underclassmen dorms?” Hahen asked as we made our way to the hall where I’d spent my first year at the School of Swords and Serpents.
“I want my people as far away from the upperclassmen as possible,” I explained. “They’ll be safer here.”
“Good point,” the rat spirit agreed.
The housing hall was musty and needed airing out. I closed the main doors behind us and chose a pair of clan members at random.
“What’re your names?” I asked a boy and a girl who couldn’t have looked more different if they belonged to alien species. The guy had dark black hair and deep-set, brooding eyes over a thin-lipped mouth. The girl’s red hair glowed like copper in the sunlight that streamed through the hallway’s windows, and her green eyes danced with mirth that matched her slightly gap-toothed smile.
“I’m Hazel,” she said, giggling nervously.
“I’m Vivek,” he said without looking at me.
“Well, Hazel and Vivek, you’re on guard duty today.” I pointed at the doors I’d closed. “Anyone tries to come in here, you make a lot of noise and come find me, pronto.”
Vivek stiffened his spine and straightened his shoulders. “I’ll fight them,” he said.
I had to nip that idea in the bud, immediately. “Everyone,” I shouted, boosting my voice so it rang in the hall like thunder. “Come here.”
They answered my call and raced to gather around me, nervous eyes fixed on me. I waited until they’d all settled down and then launched into my impromptu speech.
“Thank you for joining me,” I said. “I mean that. Without you, none of this would be possible. I owe you more than you’ll ever know.”
A murmur ran through the twelve young students, and I waited for it to subside before continuing. “Things have gone a little haywire today. I didn’t expect us to have to deal with duels for a while. It seems the other clans will force our hand.
“Let me be clear: none of you are to duel another student.” I waited for the shocked gasps to burn themselves out. “There’s no shame in declining a duel. I don’t need you to defend my honor, and the clan doesn’t, either. If you feel offended, that is what they want. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
“The dragons taught us to never back down,” Ricky said. “They said we should be proud of who we are. That fighting for our honor is the true and just path for all sacred artists.”
The other students nodded their agreement. That made me curse under my breath. The dragons could afford to act like honor-bound idiots. They were the most powerful creatures the mortal realms had ever seen. These kids didn’t have that advantage.
“That’s not always the right path,” I said. “You heard Headmistress Cruzal. A duel is no longer simply a way to settle a disagreement. The other clans will try to trap you into a fight you can’t win. And then they will claim the Right of Primacy to tear this guild apart. As your clan elder, I am telling you not to duel another student. Period.”
Christina blew out a frustrated sigh. “We can take care of ourselves.”
It was my turn to be frustrated, but I tried not to let it show. The kids had been holed away in Shambala for a long time. The only humans they’d seen for months were each other. I needed to be patient with them so they could adjust to school life at their own pace. But I also had to keep them safe, and if those two imperatives butted heads, safety came first.
“I know you think you can,” I said. “And maybe you’re right. But are you ready for another clan to claim you if you’re not?”
The flat, noncommittal looks my clan mates gave me reminded me far too much of our first encounter back when Cruzal had brought them
here as part of a moneymaking scheme. They hadn’t trusted me then, hadn’t believed a word I had to say. It was uncomfortable to think our time apart had set us back this far.
“We’ve trained with dragons,” Christina said. “Were not hollows anymore. We’re not like you, either, but we know how to fight. If anyone crosses one of us, they’ll be in for a surprise.”
She held her head at a defiant angle, chin high, staring down her nose at me in an open challenge. A quick glance showed me that Christina had reached an adept-level core. As her former teacher, I was impressed by how far she’d come.
But there was another part of me, the clan elder part, that knew I had to take her down a few pegs.
Dealing with rebellious young clan members didn’t feel so hot now that I was on the other side of the equation.
“All right,” I said, summoning my fusion blade with a simple flick of my wrist. The weapon’s long haft rested easily in my hands, and its pure, translucent edge sizzled in the dusty air. “Show me what the dragons taught you.”
The other students backed away from us to give us room to spar. They flattened their backs against the walls, leaving the dark wood floor for Christina and me. A string of dark, stained splotches marred the wood between us, a memory of the battle between me and Hagar so long ago.
Christina clapped her hands together, palms flat, tips pointed toward the sky. She gave me a low bow, deep and respectful. When she rose to face me, her own fusion blade extended from her right hand. The weapon was long and slender, with a single cutting edge that curved up slightly toward the tip. Its shape was meant for slashing attacks, though the chiseled tip was adequate for thrusting.
“Willow leaf dances on water,” Christina said, showing a dueling stance that kept her blade raised at shoulder level, its tip pointed at me, her free hand stretched out in front of her. She balanced on the balls of her toes, ready to dart away from my attacks while being able to easily advance for a strike.
She approached me cautiously, leading first with her right side, then switching to her left. Christina moved at an oblique angle, always slightly to my left. Theoretically, that allowed her to strike from her strong side against my weaker side.
In practice, though...
A pulse of jinsei from my core into my legs sent me flying across the distance between us in the blink of an eye. A second pulse into my arms gave me the speed to intercept Christina’s blade with a quick palm strike to the inside of her wrist. The unexpected blow knocked her out of position, and she had to burn sacred energy of her own to recover before she fell.
With a loud kiai, Christina threw herself into the air over my head. She drove her blade down toward my exposed shoulders with all her strength.
The blow never had a chance of landing. My serpents snatched her out of the air, catching her robes with their barbed tips, and swung her down toward the floor with alarming speed. Every student in the hall gasped as one, sure they were about to witness a very messy death.
I willed them to stop at the last second, and Christina’s body froze a half-inch from the stone floor. She looked up at me with wide, shocked eyes.
“Wise teacher snares impudent student,” I said with a grin to take the sting out of my words.
“I’ve never seen anyone move that fast,” she said. “Not even the dragons who taught us. It was like... I don’t know. Faster than lightning. As fast as thought.”
I helped Christina back to her feet and shook my head. “I’m fast, but not that fast. Your attack might have worked against a less experienced foe, but there’s no guarantee you will face a rook in a duel. Everyone at this school is full of surprises. The slightest mistake could cost you dearly.”
Christina banished her sword, and I did the same. We bowed to one another. She backed away, and I snatched her up into a hug and crushed her against my chest. “I have faith in all of you,” I said as I released her. “You had better training than almost anyone here. The dragons are amazing fighters, and their control of jinsei is phenomenal. If things were different, if I didn’t have to worry about you being taken, I’d pit you against almost any student here and be confident you’d win. But all it will take is a single mistake—”
“Elder Warin!” Hazel shouted. “Someone’s at the door!”
“Let me in!” a familiar voice shouted.
“Oh, man,” I grumbled. With all the excitement, I’d completely forgotten the one person I should have spoken to immediately. “It’s okay, let him in.”
Byron burst into the hall the instant my guards backed away from the doors. Aspects of frustration and anger whirled through his aura as he stormed toward me.
“What’s going on, Jace?” he asked.
“Elder Warin,” Christina corrected.
Byron whirled to face her, his hands clenched at his sides. “Who are you?”
“Easy,” I said before Christina started a fight. “Everyone calm down. Byron, I’m glad you’re here. You can help me get our new clan mates settled.”
“New clan mates?” The confusion in Byron’s eyes broke my heart. “I thought it was just the two of us now. Are these my replacements?”
“No!” I said and glided forward to put my hands on his shoulders. “This all happened so fast I didn’t have a chance to talk to anyone. These are the students I brought back from Shambala to fill out our ranks.”
“Oh,” Byron said. His shoulders slumped. “They’re the ones like you, right?”
“Yes,” Christina said before I could respond.
“Great,” Byron said. “Okay, I get it. What can I do to help?”
I admired the young man’s stoicism, but I knew this sudden change had hurt him. What I wanted was to pull him off to the side and explain that he was an important member of the Shadow Phoenix clan. It was important to me that he know I valued him. But I couldn’t find the words, and the kids from Shambala needed to get enrolled, and I needed to talk to Cruzal about why she was being such a pain, and I had my own classes to attend.
So I settled on the easy way out. “Let’s get this place aired out and find rooms for everyone, okay?”
Byron nodded, but he didn’t have much to say for the rest of the morning. Somewhere between opening all the windows and taking the new kids to Cruzal’s for registration, he disappeared.
The Reminder
THE FIRST WEEK OF THE semester passed in a blur. If I wasn’t struggling with jinsei sorcery in Krieger’s class, practicing advanced combat tactics in Song’s dojo, or beating my head against a wall of academic courses that seemed more pointless with every passing hour, then I was keeping an eye on my students and pushing them toward advancement with all the energy I could muster. My schedule was grueling and frantic, but at least I didn’t have to sleep.
I’d been a busy boy during those dark nights. I raided unused classrooms and laboratories scattered around the campus to stockpile a supply of jinsei vials, waste containment vessels, forgotten sparring mats, and other supplies my clan needed for training and purifying sacred energy. My serpents and the Army of a Thousand Eyes helped me pile all the books in the Stacks around the chamber’s perimeter to make room for my borrowed equipment.
All that work had transformed my former prison into a pretty nice hideout for my clan to refine jinsei, work out, and plot our future without worrying about prying eyes or pricked ears.
“I love what you’ve done with the place,” Eric said drily as he looked around the transformed Stacks.
“Thanks,” I said. “And thank you for coming here to tutor these guys and girls in the fine art of kicking butts.”
Eric chuckled at that and clapped me on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t hang you out to dry,” he said. “There’s no way I’d trust you to teach anyone how to fight. If it wasn’t for your tricks, you’d be hopeless in the ring.”
While I didn’t agree with his assessment of my fighting abilities, my friend had a point. My clan members didn’t have access to the Thief’s Shield or other Eclipse Warrior techni
ques. To protect themselves from our many enemies, they needed to learn how to fight from the best. And Eric was the strongest fighter I knew.
“Hopeless is harsh,” I said. “How are they doing?”
“Good,” Eric said. “The dragons taught them the basics. Some of them need to unlearn a few bad habits. They’re quick studies, though. Another month, maybe two, and they’ll shoot right past the other second-year students.”
“At least they’re ahead in their academics,” Abi said as he rolled his wheelchair across the stone floor to where Eric and I watched three pairs of my clan members sparring. “They hardly need my help at all. Their teachers in Shambala must have really cracked the whip on them.”
That was an understatement. The dragons had taken their duties seriously. Most of the former hollows had remarked to me how much easier the School of Swords and Serpents was than their classes in Shambala, where they’d spent upwards of ten hours a day training. That intense routine had given them a leg up over their peers.
“How about Byron?” I asked. He was the only member of my clan who hadn’t trained with the dragons, and he was a year younger. “Is he holding up?”
“All right, I suppose,” Abi said with a shrug. “He’s mad, basically all the time. His attitude is holding him back, I’m afraid.”
I felt responsible for that. Byron was a good kid, even if my now deceased clan members had hired him to spy on me. For a week or so, he and I had been the only Shadow Phoenixes still alive. I gathered that had made him feel special. Then I’d brought in a whole new crew who needed my attention and help to adjust to their new lives, and that left Byron feeling neglected and shoved to the side.
“Is this a boy’s club, or can we hang out?” Clem asked as she and Tru passed between the sparring mats and makeshift distillation lab.
The dragon’s presence caught me off guard. I hadn’t specifically forbidden my friends from bringing her here, but I also hadn’t expected her to show up in the one place I’d thought safe from prying eyes. If she saw something the dragons could use, my hideout wouldn’t be a secret for long.