by Gage Lee
“If you lied to me, you’re finished,” Tru said with a wide smile on her face. “The Scaled Council stuck its collective neck out for you with the other clans on the understanding that you’d keep me in the loop. If you played us for fools, you will regret it.”
I led the way, and the School bent around me with the fluid speed of quicksilver. One second, we were just outside the dining hall’s doors, the next we were halfway to the Stacks. No one was close enough to overhear us, so I spoke freely. “I completed preparations to finish the quest. But what you felt wasn’t me. It was the Empyrean Flame doing its thing.”
Tru stopped dead and grabbed my arm. “Are you serious?”
“As a core delamination,” I said. “And if you think I control that, you’ve grossly overestimated my strength.”
I removed her hand from my person with care and continued down the hallway. Tru hustled to catch up, her eyes alight with curiosity. “How do you know it was the Flame?”
That was a little trickier to answer without putting myself in grave danger. If anyone knew the Flame, or at least the power source for the next Flame, was trapped inside me, there’d be assassins, priests, and dragons all racing to get their hands on me. There wasn’t a single power that wouldn’t move heaven and earth to get to the exhausted ball of fire dozing in my core.
“It interfered in what I was doing,” I said. “Or, fixed what I was doing, I guess is closer to the truth.”
“And just what were you doing?” Tru asked.
We’d arrived at the Stacks. I held a finger to my lips and shook my head. “I’m not telling. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
The young dragon rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in a huff. “I’ve already been inside your clubhouse, Jace. There’s nothing in there you need to hide from me.”
I chuckled at Tru’s confidence that she knew my secrets. “Just hold your horses. You’ll be glad you did.”
Before she could protest, I hustled inside and summoned my serpents. They speared the black circles on the walls in the blink of an eye, and the floor vibrated with the power of the complex mechanism that opened and closed the hidden trapdoor. Two minutes later, I’d gathered what I’d come for and was back before Tru.
“This is for you,” I said, and handed her the present I’d retrieved.
The young dragon looked at the one-pound ingot of orichalcum as if it were a cobra reared to strike. She jerked her hands up, palms facing me, and shook her head. “No way,” she said. “Get that away from me.”
That was not at all the reaction I’d expected. “It’s orichalcum, Tru. I think there’s enough here to help you push through to your next stage of maturation. Take it.”
She paced the hall in front of me, her eyes narrowed into cautious slits. She glanced at the gleaming brick in my hands, then jerked her eyes away from it. “You can’t bribe me into staying silent. I won’t betray my people. That was the deal.”
With a start, I realized how this must look to Tru. She was angry with me, and I’d just offered her a fortune in orichalcum. Of course it looked like a bribe.
“I’d never ask you to do that,” I said, more than a little defensively. I’d stuck to my word and kept my feet on the straight and narrow even when almost everyone around me was playing dirty. Tru’s mistrust irked me. “This is a gift, one friend to another. I want you to have it because I care about you, not because I want something in return.”
The young dragon stopped before me and rested her hand on the ingot. “It’s so warm,” she said, the words barely louder than the breath that carried them. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“Take it,” I repeated.
“Jace...” she said, then lowered her head. “I have to tell them about your quest.”
“I know,” I said with a chuckle. “Take the orichalcum with you. Tell them where it came from if it makes you feel better. I plan to complete the quest in three days. I won’t leave the School until then.”
Tru watched me warily as she lifted the sacred metal from my hands. She hefted it as if trying to decide whether to keep it or hand it back. “This is a fortune.”
“Several,” I corrected her.
“I’ll tell them,” she said, “that the Flame made the ruckus. That you plan to make your move in three days. I can’t promise you what will happen after the Scaled Council knows the whole truth.”
I bowed to Tru, waited for her to return the gesture of respect, then pulled her into a hug. “Thank you. No matter what happens, I appreciate your patience and honesty with me.”
Tru leaned against me, her chin on my shoulder. “Let us help you,” she pleaded. “With the dragons by your side, there’s no telling what you might become.”
I pushed Tru back, gently, and held her by the shoulders. “I’d become a slave, Tru. No matter what it might look like from the outside, the First Scepter would make me his tool.”
The young dragon hung her head. She wanted to argue with me. I felt the tension in her shoulders. But we were past that point. She would tell her people what I intended, and I’d do what I’d always done.
The hard work that no one else could.
“I want you to know the dragons did not agree with the other clans,” Tru said, remorse clear in her voice. “We aren’t coming after you.”
“But the others are,” I said flatly. “They want to annihilate my clan.”
Xaophis had warned me that it was done playing games. Whether it had goaded the other clans into attacking or would ride the waves of chaos they’d generate, the spirit was coming after me.
And my clan.
Well, two could play that game.
It was time to show my enemies what a real fight looked like.
The March
NIDDHOGG TOOK ME TO my clan members as soon as I’d finished my discussion with Tru. He wouldn’t meet my eye during the long trek to a tower far from the main campus. It took me a few minutes to recognize where we were headed. It was the spot where I’d jumped down to the courtyard for the final challenge at the end of my first year. The memories that rushed back to me in that place were not pleasant.
“Why here?” I asked him outside the door.
“I was down there when it happened,” Niddhogg said with a faint smile. He looked not off into the distance, but back into the past. “I’d never seen anything like you. No one had. Even before we knew what you were...”
The little dragon’s words trailed off. He opened the door to a room cluttered with furniture hidden beneath white drop cloths. My clan mates were up ahead of us, waiting patiently in the next room.
Niddhogg flew over to a piece of shrouded furniture. He wrinkled his nose at the dust bunnies that flew up in the backwash from his wings. He perched on its edge and folded his front claws between his pudgy legs.
“I don’t think I can help you after today,” he said. “The Scaled Council hasn’t sent the dogs on your trail yet, but they don’t want it to seem like we’re aiding you.”
I felt a pang of pity for the dragon. He’d been an outcast from his people for centuries. Now that he was back in their good graces, he’d lose it all if he didn’t turn his back on me. The First Scepter knew how to play hardball, I’d give him that.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’ll get by.”
Niddhogg gave me a sullen nod, then ducked his head and squinted. Tears clogged his next words. “I never wanted it to be like this,” he said, struggling to control his emotions. “You’ve always been good to me, kid. I mean, Elder Warin.”
It was my turn to well up. When I’d first met Niddhogg, he’d helped me along as best he could. We were both rejected by our people, both in desperate need of a friend who understood our pain. And now that we’d both found where we belonged, we also found ourselves on opposite sides of battle lines that had been drawn for us.
It sucked.
“I’ll always be kid to you,” I said, wiping my tears on the back of one sleeve. �
��But if you say it in front of anyone else, I’ll make a pair of gloves out of you.”
“Just try,” the little dragon choked out. “I’ll see you, Elder Warin. Under clearer skies, I hope.”
With that, Niddhogg flew out of the tower. It hurt to see him go, but it was best that he not be around to hear what I had to tell my people. After getting myself back under control, I moved to the next room and greeted my clan.
“I’ve got good news,” I said, “and I’ve got better news.”
“Better news first,” Ferundo said, and the rest of my clan chuckled.
I cracked my knuckles and let the darkness of my Eclipse nature blossom in my eyes. The heavy weight was a welcome reminder of who I was and what I could do. The way my clan members recoiled from the black radiance didn’t bother me. I was wearing my war paint, now. People were right to be afraid.
A reckoning was coming.
“The better news is that the other clans have decided it’s time to take us down,” I said with a black-hearted smile.
“That doesn’t seem good at all,” Hazel said. “How will we avoid duels if we’re constantly under attack?”
“That’s the good news,” I said. “No more running from challenges. It’s time to go on the offensive.”
A nervous murmur passed through the gathered students. It was obvious they didn’t like my sudden change in attitude. After weeks of hammering into them how important it was to avoid duels, I’d just reversed course.
“Listen,” I said, putting just enough jinsei into my voice to focus my clan mates. “This is our only chance of getting out of this together. We need a list of targets. Who are the weakest students in your class?”
The young Shadow Phoenixes looked at me like I’d just asked them to pick out one of their friends to execute. I realized that in trying so hard to protect these kids from our enemies, I’d made a big mistake. They weren’t hard enough to make tough choices. If I didn’t snap them out of this weak mindset, my clan was doomed.
Opening their eyes to the dark truth of Empyreal life would hurt my clan mates. It would change them in ways none of them should have to endure. They’d become harsher, less trusting, and more prone to violence. It made my heart ache to consider just how much of a change that would be for so many of them.
They deserved a better life than that.
But deserving it wouldn’t give that better life to them.
They’d have to earn it. One ugly duel at a time.
“There’s no getting around this,” I admonished. “The other clans want to take us down. They will back you into corners. They will use every trick in the book to defeat you. The only way to stop that is to make them see the cost of the fight. To show them that there is a price to pay when challenging us.”
What I didn’t tell the kids was that padding our numbers with new recruits would protect me from exile. There was another part of the plan I wasn’t telling them, too. One that was far darker and far more devious than made me comfortable. But I was not the bad guy here. If the clans didn’t want a war, they shouldn’t have started one.
“Michelle,” Hazel said at last. “She’s one of the Titans in my exercise class. Hates fighting.”
“What is her afternoon class?” I asked.
“Basic Scrivening,” Hazel answered. “With—”
“Professor Ishigara,” I said. Well, at least I could kill two birds with one stone, as the scrivening instructor and I had unfinished business. “Good. We have an hour before that class ends. I won’t disrupt any study periods, so we’ll use this time to cycle our jinsei and prepare ourselves. Hazel, this challenge is yours, but I want the rest of you to come up with at least one person who’s weaker than you. We’ll work our way up from the bottom.”
The rest of my clan seemed uncertain about my request, but a few of them looked ready to fight. That was good. A few might be enough. Once my clan mates had all settled into their cycling routines, I joined them.
My core ached as I cycled my breathing. I hadn’t reached master yet, but it was within my grasp. That stunt the Flame pulled had pushed me right up to the edge. Another session like that would either kill me or transform me into the next level of cultivator. Becoming master would put the clans on notice that I was more than a hotshot student.
They’d realize I was a power to be reckoned with.
That could backfire. If the other clans feared me, they might send assassins to take me out of the picture before I grew too powerful to subdue.
To my surprise, I found I welcomed the challenge. Taking on a foe without pulling punches, fighting tooth and nail knowing only one of us would survive... as terrifying as mortal combat had been, it showed me what it meant to be alive. You never knew how important the simple act of breathing was until you were on the verge of losing it forever.
When my clan members and I had finished our meditations, I lined them up in two-by-two formation, tallest at the front, smallest at the back. Byron, whom Niddhogg had rounded up along with the others, stood near the front of the group. He looked pale and drawn, his eyes downcast, his cheeks sunken and sallow. His greasy hair clung to his scalp like a coat of fresh black paint, and he clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists.
“Byron, up front with me,” I said, letting him take the spot to my right. Despite his gloomy demeanor, walking in a place of honor at my side lifted his spirits. I lowered my voice so the others wouldn’t hear, and asked, “What’s gotten into you?”
He didn’t answer until we’d left the tower behind and were spiraling through a newer section of the School set aside for students that had never arrived. The School of Swords and Serpents had fewer bodies in it now than at any time in the past hundred years. It was no wonder Cruzal was always worried about money.
When Byron finally spoke, his voice was rough and hoarse, like he’d spent the last few hours screaming his throat raw. “I haven’t slept well since the ritual. These dreams...”
He choked the words off and absently raked his fingers through the lank strands of his hair. The poor kid was tormented, and the isolation I’d imposed on him hadn’t helped matters. I reminded myself there’d been no choice. Byron, or Xaophis inside of Byron, had cost me weeks of work. If I’d let him remain involved in clan life, there’s no telling the damage he might have caused.
Making tough choices that put the good of the clan ahead of any single member was my least favorite part about being an elder. Maybe I should have been a little more understanding with Sanrin when he wasn’t as forthcoming with me as I would have liked. I only had to deal with the unwitting host of an evil spirit who wanted to destroy me at all costs. The former elder had needed to deal with what he thought was a world-ending threat inside his ranks.
Maybe I’d been too hard on the old guy.
My group of reluctant duelists soon left the old parts of the School behind and entered the more populated halls. Classes hadn’t yet released for the afternoon, but a few students with free periods always roamed the School’s many corridors. When those stragglers saw us coming, they grew pale and took off like shots to report what they’d seen to their clans. It annoyed me that the other clans were so organized and prepared to move against us, but the look of raw fear on the informants’ faces made me happy. They were the ones who wanted this fight, not me. I hoped they were shaking in their boots over what might happen now.
We stopped outside Ishigara’s scriptorium. I pointed at Hazel and beckoned for her to approach. “The rest of you, fan out in an arc around the doorway. No one gets in or out until Hazel wins her duel.”
The rest of the clan looked uncertainly at me and shifted position. They whispered to one another, eyes flicking toward me and then away, faces pale and lips trembling. Hazel stepped forward, but the rest of them didn’t move an inch. Not even my glare got them to budge.
“Your clan elder gave you an order,” I said, threading enough jinsei through my words to make the kids jump. “Why aren’t you following it?”
&n
bsp; Byron raised his hand, but kept his eyes averted. He looked like a beat puppy who’d just been caught messing on the floor. “Are we really doing this?”
The rest of the clan members looked from Byron to me and then back again. Fear aspects clogged their auras, tainting their thoughts with doubt and confusion. They’d lost faith in themselves.
If they didn’t find it again, fast, we were through.
“Yes, we’re really dueling other clan members to bolster our numbers,” I said. “Because we’ve spent weeks hiding from them, and now they’re determined to tear us apart.”
Hazel nodded to me, then raised her hand. She shifted her balance from foot to foot, like a little kid who had to use the bathroom.
“Go ahead, Hazel,” I said.
“But going after weaker kids makes us like them,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.
There was truth in what she had to say, but also a naivety that we couldn’t afford. It was time for some hard lessons.
“They put our backs against the wall,” I said sternly. “We cannot afford to lose any more members, or the Triad Consul will disband the Shadow Phoenix clan. For now, we play it safe and go after the weakest links. When we have enough new recruits, we can think about taking down the other clans’ more powerful members.”
My clan members still wouldn’t meet my eyes. They’d grown used to hiding and skulking around the School to stay safe. That was my fault. I should have done more to prepare them for the fight to come. Because I’d known, in my bones, that this day would eventually come. The other clans would never let us sneak through the rest of the year without a reckoning.
But I hadn’t hardened my clan members for that reality. And now I only had a few minutes to do it.
I hoped it would be enough.
“You’ve trained with the best martial artists in the School,” I said. “You’ve grown from hollows to Shadow Phoenixes. You are too strong, too good to let these cowards take that away from you. Do you understand me?”