by Gage Lee
Christina saw her chance, and she took it.
She rolled toward him and came up on one knee inside his guard, her fusion blade drawn back to her hip for an upward thrust. With a ragged kiai, Christina threw herself behind the blade. It streaked toward Mario’s exposed side, a perfectly executed blow that would instantly end the fight.
At the last possible moment, something sleek and serpentine flared from Mario’s core and filled his aura. It embraced him in slithering coils and sent a pulse of jinsei flooding through his channels.
Mario twisted his hips far faster than seemed humanly possible. He slapped Christina’s weapon away with his right hand, earning an ugly cut across his palm, then drove his clenched left fist into the top of her head with a brutal hammer strike.
The spirit that had emerged from the Titan flowed through that attack at the moment of impact. For a sliver of a second I saw it inside Christina’s core, like a serpent in its egg.
Christina’s eyes rolled up into their sockets, and she collapsed to the floor. She tried to lift herself, but there was no strength in her arms. Her head lolled on her neck, and she lay flat on her back in the middle of the dueling ring.
Mario straddled her, grabbed the front of her robes, and cocked his meaty fist. Blood dripping from his defensive wound splashed across Christina’s face. If he let his prepared blow fly, Mario would pulp his opponent’s face.
“Stop the fight,” I shouted at Theodosia. “Your pawn cheated. A spirit aided him.”
I didn’t want it to be true, but I’d recognized that creature. It was the same thing that had chased Maps through the gate in the Stacks.
The quorum’s leader looked legitimately surprised at my suggestion. “That is an outrageous accusation, Elder. I saw no such thing.”
As much as I wanted to believe the Disciple would lie to protect her agent, her aura was clean. There were no aspects of deception around her. She truly believed what she’d said.
“What about you?” I snapped, jabbing a finger toward the quorum member in the robes of a Resplendent Sun. That clan was so obsessed with honor he’d never be able to lie to me.
He glowered at me, his golden hair flickering with sparks of fire aspects. “Your accusation has no merit. There was no spirit here. Your clan member lost the duel fairly.”
“Release the girl,” Theodosia said as she glided away from my side.
Mario lowered Christina to the floor without hesitation. He blinked hard and gulped, as if unnerved by what he’d been about to do. He glanced at me with fear and confusion in his eyes, confirming what I’d seen.
The spirit was real. It had not only saved Mario, but goaded him into nearly killing my clan member.
“Mario, of the Titans of Majestic Stone, has defeated Christina, of the Shadow Phoenixes.” Theodosia announced and raised the fighter’s hand over her head. “Do you wish to claim your Right of Primacy?”
The Titan looked briefly at Theodosia, then locked his eyes with mine. I willed him to let it go.
And he ignored me.
“I do,” he said. “I claim the fallen for the Titans of Majestic Stone.”
Christina had finally come back to her senses. She staggered to her feet and stumbled a bit, like a badly controlled puppet. When she met my eyes, there was something dark and twisted in them.
“Finally,” she said, “a real clan.”
The hate in her words stung, but I clung to the belief that she hadn’t said them. The contempt in her eyes didn’t belong to the girl I’d taught to cycle, but to something far older, and far more dangerous.
Suddenly, I understood why the duels had spread so fast and why the violence seemed contagious.
The Xaophis was here, a plague in our house. It spread through duels, infecting its victims with icy rage.
And no one else could see it.
I was the only one who could stop it.
The Decision
THE QUORUM CLOSED RANKS between me and the duelists as if worried I’d do something rash and violent.
I’d be a liar if I said the thought didn’t cross my mind.
“She will be better off with the Titans,” Theodosia told me. “They will treat her well and put her talents to use for the good of all.”
Mario and Christina vanished through the chapel’s narrow door. I watched them go, rage and guilt warring inside me. The pain of losing a clan member wedged itself in my core like a barbed splinter and irritated my Eclipse nature.
That part of me wanted to show the world what happened when you crossed me. I could take Theodosia and her little cult apart in seconds. It would feel so good.
Until word got back to the other elders and they went to war with me and my twelve young clan members.
“You know this doesn’t end well for anyone,” I said to Theodosia. “The Right will tear the world apart. And for what? So your clan can hurt me?”
The quorum’s leader shook her head and gave me a pitying look. “You still don’t understand. This isn’t about the Disciples or any of the other clans gaining something. It’s about stopping you. If anyone’s endangered the world, it’s you and your family.”
I stared at Theodosia for a long moment, trying to see past the facade of sincerity she wore. But there was no deceit in her aura, and she held my eyes with the steady calm of a true believer.
“You’re wrong,” I said. “None of you understand what’s at stake.”
“Convince me,” Theodosia responded. “Give me something to take back to the elders and perhaps we can reach an understanding.”
The Disciple seemed reasonable, but I knew I was wasting my time. Nothing I could safely tell her would change her mind, and I didn’t dare to reveal any more of the truth to her. If the Disciples of Jade Flame knew what I was actually up to and how much the world would change when I finished this quest, they’d stop at nothing to grind me into the dust.
If that happened, there’d be no new Empyrean Flame, no new Grand Design to protect the mortal world from the horrors that lurked beyond its borders. The church would continue with its campaign of lies until it wormed its way back into a seat of power. The clans would lead their members down paths never intended for humans to follow. A new threat would rise, and the world would die.
I couldn’t allow that.
“You can’t win this,” Theodosia called after me as I turned away from her and left. “If you keep fighting, you will only hurt the people you care about.”
I didn’t dignify her threat with a response. The only way out of this for me and my clan was for me to finish the quest. That would restore the seers’ vision, and there’d be no need for the Right of Primacy.
“I’ll call my mother,” Clem said as she paced along beside me. “Maybe there’s some legal precedent, or...”
“There isn’t,” I said with a pained sigh. My anger was still close to the surface. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. There’s no simple way out of this. But I have to know: did any of you see anything at the end of that fight?”
“No,” Clem said.
“Me neither,” Eric said.
“How about you, Abi? Hahen?” I asked. “Niddhogg?”
“I’m sorry,” Hahen said after the others had responded negatively, “but there was nothing to see. Perhaps it was a trick of the light.”
The spirit definitely hadn’t been a trick of the light. But if I could see it so clearly, why had none of my friends been able to spot the thing?
“Never mind,” I said. “I don’t know what I saw. Or thought I saw.”
My friends didn’t need to carry the burden of my uncertainty, so I let it drop. If any of them had seen it, I might have had a lever that would help me invalidate the duel. But if I was the only one, nobody would believe me.
I tried to compose myself when we reached the Stacks, to hold myself aloof from the pain gnawing at my core. But the instant I opened the heavy door and my clan saw me, there was no denying the tragedy that had befallen us. Their youthful faces
fell, tears brimming in their eyes.
It took me a moment to gather myself. As the clan elder, there was no time for me to collapse. I cleared my throat, straightened my spine, and delivered the bad news.
“Christina lost a duel with a Titan of Majestic Stone,” I said firmly. “She is one of their number, now. I know this hurts, but I want you to learn a lesson from our loss. We can’t endanger our clan with any more duels. I’ll figure out some way to get her back. But until the Right of Primacy has ended, ignore any challenges that come your way. There’s nothing, no one, worth getting into another duel. Another loss will kill our clan. That’s what the other clans want. Don’t fall for their tricks. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing us torn apart.”
Ricky approached me from the practice mat. His fists were clenched, his wiry frame trembling with rage. “We have to get her back.”
I put a hand on his shoulder and raised my voice to make sure every one of my clan’s members heard what I said next. “We can’t. Anything we try to do will bring the other clans down on us harder than you can imagine. Let it go for the moment. No more challenges, do you hear me?”
My clan’s members had nothing else to say. There was anger and sadness in all their eyes, and their auras burned with energetic aspects desperate for an outlet.
“I’m deadly serious about this,” I continued. “I forbid you from dueling other students. I don’t care what they say, I don’t care what they do. Are we clear?”
The students said nothing. Their eyes were filled with sullen anger, and I felt a rebellion stirring in their ranks. I understood their pain far too well. They were worried I’d abandon them if they lost a duel.
“I will get her back,” I said. “But we can’t risk losing anyone else. The clan won’t survive. Swear to me you understand, swear that you will not cross swords in a challenge.”
“I swear,” Ricky said. Other clan members echoed him, and the tension in my chest released, just a little. My message had gotten through to them.
“Good,” I said. “Now get back to training. Pursue advancement. Prepare yourselves. We have to be ready for anything now.”
“Yes, Elder,” the students shouted in unison.
It had taken a tragedy, but for the first time, I felt like my clan had truly bonded. We weren’t just a group of people thrown together by chance. We were Shadow Phoenixes, and the world would see us rise again from the ashes of our suffering.
My friends gathered around me. Eric put his hand on my shoulder, and Abi bumped my fist with his in a show of support. Clem took my hand and leaned against me.
“This is awful,” Clem said in a low, shaky voice. “What will you do?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Anything I try will be a disaster. For the moment, Christina is a Titan.”
“It disgusts me to see my clan involved in this,” Abi said. “I thought we were above such petty things. I could speak with my elders—”
“Don’t do that,” I said. “In fact, you all need to be careful about spending time with me where others can see. This isn’t just the Disciples. All the clans are allied against the Shadow Phoenixes. I don’t want any of you to suffer because you’re my friends.”
“I am your friend,” Eric said, his voice sharp. “But you’re right. I’ll still help your students when I can, but it’s getting risky. Don’t look at me like that, Clem. You know he’s right. What would you do if your clan exiled you for being Jace’s girlfriend?”
Clem’s eyes were steely, but her lip trembled. We’d grown so close over the past few weeks that I couldn’t imagine having to part ways under any circumstances. But if the clans ordered my friends to stay away from me, they wouldn’t have a choice. Open rebellion would cost them everything.
“I’m sorry,” Clem said, her voice hitching with emotion.
“Don’t be. I understand,” I said. “I really do. You’ve all sacrificed so much already. I can’t ask you to throw away your entire futures. Work with the kids when you can. I’ll figure the rest of this out.”
I watched my friends turn and leave, heading off to work with the younger members of my clan. It hurt to see how the world had changed us in such a short time. Just knowing me was a danger for them, now. It wouldn’t be long before they’d have to cut ties with me entirely.
My thoughts chased their tails for the rest of the night. When their training was through for the day, I sent my clan members away. I didn’t even try to distill gold from the wastewater. It hardly seemed worth the effort.
“How do you see this ending?” Hahen asked me long past midnight.
“I won’t let them win,” I said through gritted teeth. “My clan deserves better. So does the world.”
“We could ask the dragons for help,” the rat spirit suggested.
“They won’t get involved in our politics,” I said. “And if I tell them about the quest, they’ll dig their claws into me and won’t ever let go. I can stand up to a lot of crazy stuff, Hahen, but not the entire Scaled Council.”
“I’m sorry, my friend,” Hahen said. “What will you do?”
I’d hoped to figure out the orichalcum puzzle with the help of my friends. That would take time, though, and I’d suddenly run out of that. With Xaophis running wild in the School, it wouldn’t be long before there were too many enemies for me to deal with. This whole mess needed to end.
Now.
And there was only one way to make that happen. I didn’t like it, but short of my suddenly advancing to the level of Eternal, the very highest a mortal could ever reach, I’d run out of options.
“It’s time to swallow my pride,” I said. “I’ll talk to Ishigara tomorrow.”
The Trade
PROFESSOR ISHIGARA and I had never been on great terms. She’d been one of Grayson’s allies, and she’d made my life miserable on his orders. And after I’d had the former headmaster of the School of Swords and Serpents removed from his position for consorting with the Locust Court, the professor really disliked me. She’d mellowed a bit during the past year, but we were still far, far from friends.
Which made what I had to do so uncomfortable for me.
I hesitated outside her office door and cycled my breathing to push all the nervous energy out of my body and aura. Then I rapped my knuckles on the heavy wooden door and waited.
And waited.
My hand was raised to knock again when the door swung open to reveal Ishigara. Her eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously. “Well, this is a surprise. Have you finally decided to ask for extra help with your scrivening?”
Her sarcastic comment stung all the more because it was so on the mark. I was good at a lot of things. Scrivening was not one of them. No matter how hard I tried, the best I could manage was passable. Mostly, my scrivenings were horrible messes. Clem had tried to help me improve, but I’d given it up as futile. Being an Eclipse Warrior, clan elder, and weaver of fate would have to be enough for me.
“Not exactly,” I said. “I’d rather not have this conversation in the hall. Can I come in?”
The professor frowned for a moment, then sighed and stepped back from the door. “Touch nothing. There are several important experiments in progress, and I’d hate to restart them because you were clumsy.”
I raised my hands defensively as I moved past her into the office. “Just talking, no touching. I promise.”
The office was small compared to Headmistress Cruzal’s fancy chambers, but it was still nice. Jinsei lanterns with thin golden quartz panels bobbed gently in the air above us, filling the entire room with warm, even light. Crystalline pillars supported glass cases, three on each of the room’s longer walls. The cases contained sheets of thin, smooth metal and delicate inscribing tools that moved across the metal as if guided by unseen hands. A wide desk occupied the far end of the room, its surface covered with neatly arranged pages filled with writing. A single mug occupied a place of honor on the right side of the desk, the steaming perfume of coffee wafting out of it to fill t
he room.
When was the last time I had coffee?
Too long ago.
Ishigara swept past me and dropped into the comfortable chair behind her desk. She lifted the mug and took a long swig. Her eyes studied me over the rim, glasses flashing in the jinsei light. Finally, she replaced the mug on the desk and steepled her fingers beneath her chin.
“Pardon me,” she said, “but I’m savoring this moment. What brings the illustrious and infamous Mr. Jace Warin to my humble office?”
The urge to correct Ishigara on my title was hard to resist. I held back, though. Better to save that piece of ammunition.
“I’m working on an experiment,” I said. “It needs a significant amount of orichalcum.”
“Expensive,” Ishigara interrupted. “If you can even find a seller. That metal is—”
“I know,” I said. “Whoever makes it is bound to it forever. Krieger and I discussed the process. He suggested you would be the best person to help me with the scrivening part. You are, after all, the School’s expert in the field.”
Ishigara’s lips quirked at the compliment and she took another sip of coffee. “Flattery is always pleasant,” she said. “But you’re asking me to create something of great value for you. Something which will also make me vulnerable to you. I’d be a fool to do that.”
Was she ever going to offer me a cup of coffee? The smell was driving me up the wall. I didn’t need the energy it would provide—jinsei handled that much more efficiently—but I missed the heavenly taste.
“I’m not asking you to make anything,” I said. “If you prepare the scrivenings, I’ll complete the process.”
The professor looked up at the ceiling, her hands wrapped around her mug. She remained silent for what felt like an eternity, aspects of uncertainty, curiosity, and, strangely, jealousy dancing in her aura. She cleared them all with long, slow, cycling breaths before she returned her gaze to me.