by Gage Lee
I was so worried about Clem that I spent two hours after core training searching for her. I concentrated on an image of the pale blue gi she wore, of her startlingly green eyes, of the way the slightly crooked tops of her teeth peeked above her lower lip when she grinned. No matter where I wandered, I couldn’t find any sign of her.
“What’s your problem, kid?” Niddhogg asked when he found me roaming the halls of the Shadow Phoenix dormitory tower. “You look like you just found out you were being sent off for portal duty.”
“What?” The little dragon had surprised me with his sudden appearance, and what he’d said made no sense.
“Portal duty? Where they send all the new soldiers to fight the hungry spirits?” Niddhogg shook his head and thrashed the ground with his tail. “Never mind. I keep forgetting you’re new to the whole Empyreal thing. You do look like you just took a big swig from a glass of bad milk, though.”
“I just got some bad news,” I said. “I was looking for one of my friends to warn her, but I can’t find her anywhere.”
“Tough break, kid,” the dragon said as he fluttered his wings to fly in my direction. He coiled his tail around my leg. “Anything I can do to help?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. The offer was nice enough, but I didn’t have any idea what Niddhogg could do for me. “It just feels like everyone’s got it in for me.”
“That’s a good sign.” The dragon chuckled. “When a bunch of people want you to fail, it’s usually because they’re afraid of what will happen if you succeed.”
“Tell that to the other Shadow Phoenixes,” I said glumly. “No one wants me to win the Core Contest, not even my own clan.”
“Does it really matter what other people want?” Niddhogg uncoiled his tail from around my leg and flew up so we were eye to eye. “Our clan’s been kicked around since before it was even founded. Our first elder was a traitor and thief who broke a lot of rules for what he thought were good reasons. The other clans couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done, even though his actions ended up saving a lot of lives from a surprise invasion of hungry spirits. He did a lot of bad things for the greater good, and it cost him everything. No one wanted him to do what he did, but once it was done, they didn’t want anything to be different, either.”
“Thank you for your advice, honored dragon. I wasn’t sure how much I really appreciated hearing a story about a guy who’d gotten hung out to dry by the rest of the Empyreals. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Sure.” Niddhogg fluttered away, then turned back for a moment. “Look, all I’m saying is if you let other people stomp all over you, they’re never going to stop.
“Oh, kid,” the dragon called after me. “Professor Ishigara came back from her leave a little early. She’s got a special scrivening class in about thirty minutes. You won’t want to miss it.”
Niddhogg and I went our separate ways, but I couldn’t shake the words he’d said. Tycho’s revelations had shattered every notion I had about my life. I’d come here to restore my family’s honor, but if I abandoned the Core Contest that dream would be gone. Even if Tycho kept me from getting expelled, there was no honor in being at the bottom of the rankings. I’d be just one more ignored Shadow Phoenix, as easily forgotten and dismissed as a handful of chalk dust.
I’d come here to find a cure for my hollow core. But if that was the only part of me that Tycho valued, he’d go out of his way to make sure I never found how to heal myself.
The gift of the Disciples of Jade Flame had transformed itself into a noose around my throat.
Frustrated, I searched for Clem for a few more minutes, then headed to my scrivening class. I arrived at the scriptorium a few minutes early and took my usual seat near the center aisle. I opened the desk’s drawer and removed an inkpot, fountain pen, and some sheets of coarse paper. My handwriting hadn’t gotten much better, despite the extra practice I squeezed into every spare minute I could find. Half of my sigils were too blocky, and the other half were sprawling and loopy messes. I filled the pen with black ink and drew the first lines of a simple binding.
It wasn’t terrible, but what I’d drawn wasn’t remotely good, either. There was no flow to the pattern. Jinsei would struggle to navigate the sharp bends at the beginning of the circuit and would get hopelessly diluted as it wound through the overlarge loops. I scratched the mess out and started again.
I’d tried and failed to draw the same symbol three times before class began. I had to wonder if any of it really mattered. My crude writing wouldn’t stop me from helping Hahen in the lab, and that was what kept me in school. Even if every one of my scrivenings was perfect, Professor Ishigara would find some way to lower my grade, and I couldn’t use the skill to win another challenge.
“Good morning, class.” Professor Ishigara adjusted her glasses and took her position behind the podium at the front of the class. “Today is the final day for this term. While you won’t be able to return to your homes to celebrate the holidays, you will have freedom to roam the campus from now until the end of the year.”
That brought a few ragged cheers from the other initiates. I heard Eric’s voice and saw that he’d taken a seat next to Abi. Clem, however, was still nowhere to be seen.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong.
“There will be a surprise Core Contest challenge in today’s class.” Students around me murmured excitedly to one another, but all I felt at the announcement was bitter disappointment. “In the spirit of celebrating our unity and fellowship at this time of year, you will not be working individually, nor will you be working with other members of your clan. Instead, I will assign each of you a partner from another clan. The two of you must work together to complete the challenge, and if you succeed, both partners and their clans will earn five ranks.”
There were indignant complaints from the Resplendent Suns, who didn’t want to lose their lead in the Core Contest. The Disciples of Jade Flame smirked at the announcement, confident they would finally get on the board, even if they had to ride the coattails of another clan’s member to get there. The Titans of Majestic Stone and Thunder’s Children seemed unmoved by the announcement, probably because they were in the middle of the rankings and their status wouldn’t change much, win or lose.
Deacon wouldn’t even look at me. I felt sorry for whoever ended up as his partner, because I was sure he would try to throw it. No one would explain why, but the Shadow Phoenixes seemed allergic to earning any rankings.
Of course, the same was true for whoever was assigned to me. Tycho had made it clear I couldn’t win another challenge.
I slumped back in my seat and spun my fountain pen on the desk while Professor Ishigara made the assignments. At first it appeared she chose partners at random, but a pattern quickly emerged. She deliberately paired students with high rankings, or from high-ranking clans, with initiates of low ranking. Abi was paired off with one of the Disciples, and Eric ended up saddled with Deacon. No one seemed happy with their partner, and that seemed to please Professor Ishigara.
“Okay then,” the professor said brightly. “You all have your partners. The challenge is quite simple...”
A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I realized Ishigara hadn’t assigned me a partner. There was an odd number of students. I wouldn’t have to compete in a challenge I couldn’t win.
And then the scriptorium’s door burst open.
Clem rushed in, her face flushed, her hair in wild disarray. She looked confused and harried as she entered, and it took her a moment to gather her breath.
“Sorry I’m late,” she gasped. “There was some kind of mixup in administration. It’s all sorted now, and I’ll be happy to stay after class to make up for my tardiness.”
Professor Ishigara looked like she’d just swallowed a bee. She pursed her lips into a tight frown and let out a frustrated sigh.
“It looks like today is your lucky day, Mr. Warin. We now have an even number of initiates for t
he challenge,” the professor snapped. “Clementine, please take a seat next to Jace. I’m sorry to say that you’ve been assigned as his partner for this challenge.”
“Oh, a challenge? Excellent!” Clem dashed up the central aisle and flopped down in the seat next to me. She lowered her voice as the professor explained the contest. “You would not believe the morning I’ve had. Good thing I got it all straightened out, though, huh? Be a shame if you couldn’t compete in this challenge.”
I bit my tongue and cursed silently. If Clem had been on time, she would’ve been assigned to someone else, I was sure of that. Ishigara would never have partnered me with someone with scrivening skills as advanced as Clem’s. Now that we were paired, I’d have to break the news to her that we had to throw the challenge.
Professor Ishigara passed out materials, and each pair of students received an identical square plate with part of a scrivening on its face. The first team to complete and activate the scrivening would win the challenge.
“This is going to put you over the top,” Clem whispered excitedly. “We’ve got this in the bag. Bishop will never be able to expel you with your rankings this high.”
“Clem—”
Professor Ishigara slapped our plate down in front of us hard enough to rattle the desk. She glared at me and then offered Clem a sad, conciliatory smile.
“I’m sorry, Clementine.” The professor shook her head and moved on to the next pair of students.
“Geez,” Clem muttered. “What’s wrong with her?”
“We can’t win,” I whispered urgently.
“What’s gotten into you?” Clem scowled. We hadn’t been given the go ahead to start on our scrivenings yet, but that didn’t stop her from eyeing the upside-down plate as if she could see through its blank surface. “We can totally win.”
“Tycho wants me to lose the rest of this year’s challenges,” I said. “And he doesn’t want you poking around in my family’s business, either.”
“And you think I care what Tycho wants?” Clem snorted. “He’s a powerful man, Jace, but he’s not a dragon. If you win the challenges, no one can expel you. Even Grayson couldn’t bounce a student with rankings as high as yours. It would be a terrible scandal.”
“It’s not just me I’m worried about,” I said. “Do you really want your family to have Tycho as an enemy?”
“You may begin,” Professor Ishigara said with a clap of her hands. “Good luck to you all.”
The way Ishigara stared at me as she said that last made it clear that she wished me the very worst luck possible.
Clem flipped the plate over and studied the incomplete scrivening intently. She twisted the metal square this way and that, brow furrowed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“My mother is an adjudicator and my father is a commander in the portal defense force.” Clem rotated the scrivening plate a quarter turn clockwise. “I’m not trying to brag, but if Tycho came after my family he’d have his hands more than full.”
Clem reached into the desk’s drawer and pulled out an inscribing pencil before I could respond. She carefully traced a pattern between two open ends of the challenge scrivening and leaned back to admire her work.
“He’s more dangerous than you think,” I said. “And even if I wasn’t worried about your family, Tycho has more to threaten me with. My mother’s staying in an apartment arranged by Tycho’s family. If I cross him, his clan will throw her out into the street.”
Clem made another series of experimental marks, nodded, and gave the metal plate a ninety-degree turn counterclockwise.
“That does give him a lot of leverage over you,” Clem agreed. “Do you think that’s what your mother would want?”
I thought back over the years of my childhood, when my mother had taken me into the labor camp fields with her at night so she could work two shifts without paying extra for daycare or school. She’d taught me everything I knew while I sat in the dirt and she picked strawberries or weeded beans. As I’d gotten older, she taught me to cycle through my hollow core while she dug ditches. When I got big enough to help with her work, she transformed every bit of labor into a martial arts training exercise. She was the strongest, most fearless woman I’d ever known, and she’d sacrificed everything to give me the best chance at a good life she possibly could.
“No,” I admitted. “But she deserves this break. If I win any more challenges, Tycho will send her back to the labor camps.”
“Yes,” Clem agreed. “He will. Do you know where I really was this morning?”
She traced a looping circuit that closed three open branches in the incomplete scrivening while I answered her.
“You said there was some mix-up with the administration,” I said. “I assume that meant you were stuck in the School’s central office.”
“No,” Clem said quietly. “I sneaked into the teachers’ dormitory to make a call to my mother. She told me there was no official record of any family named Warin in any clan records she could find. No birth certificates, no legal records, no wedding licenses. No criminal history, no judicial decrees, no documents of exile. Nothing.”
My mind reeled, and I tried to reconcile the family history I’d been raised to believe with the bombshell Clem had just dropped on me. I didn’t know if anything I’d ever been told was true, now.
“How is that possible?” I asked. “My parents were both Empyreals. There has to be some record of them. And if they weren’t exiled, why did we live in a labor camp and not an overcity?”
“That’s a question for your mother, not mine,” Clem said. She’d penciled in bridges over every gap in the incomplete scrivening. “But if I had to guess, your parents gave up their Empyreal status and fled to the labor camps to protect something very important to them. What do you think that was? Oh, hand me that fine-point inscribing tool.”
Nothing made any sense anymore. I handed Clem the inscribing tool with numb fingers and tried to think of any reasons why my parents would have given up their entire lives. They’d fled a life of comfort and luxury to raise a child in the abject poverty of the undercity. Their decision had cost my father his life before I was even born and had sentenced my mother to pain and dishonor for as long as she still drew breath. The only way it made any sense was if what they fled was more terrible than their new lives.
My mother had always told me I was the only thing that mattered in her life. Apparently, she’d meant exactly that.
“They gave up everything for me,” I whispered. “Why?”
Clem finished the scrivening with a flourish, then shrugged.
“I can’t tell you their reasons.” She drew another series of looping connectors on the plate. “But do you think your mother and father sacrificed so much so you could become Tycho Reyes’s slave?”
Clem completed another bridge. The binding was almost finished and would be ready to activate in the next minute or two.
Maybe Niddhogg had been right. Maybe it didn’t matter what other people wanted or thought of me. Maybe the only important thing was that I do my best, no matter what.
But if I did that, I risked destroying the life I’d worked so hard to build.
I glanced around the room at the other students, all of whom had their heads bent over their plates, their faces masks of concentration and concern. Deacon gave me a slow, sad shake of his head. His partner followed his gaze and raw hate flashed across her face.
She scowled at me with lips painted black and eyes as hard and cold as chips of ice. She was an initiate, so she had to be close to my age, but there was a world-weariness in her eyes that made her seem much, much older.
“Tycho,” she mouthed with exaggerated care to make sure I caught the name. “Take a fall.”
To be absolutely positive I got the message, she drew a line across her own throat with one black fingernail.
“It’s ready.” Clem turned the scrivening tile to point the circuit’s ignition point toward me. “Light it up, Jace. Let’s win this
thing.”
Maybe Clem was right. I could earn enough points from this challenge to keep myself out of the bottom ten percent. I’d be safe at the School for at least the rest of this year. And with what I’d learned in Tycho’s laboratory, I might even be able to find another patron who would be willing to front my tuition and other costs in exchange for my work.
Maybe if I derailed Tycho’s plans and told Grayson what I’d done, the headmaster would appreciate my work and let me finish my education.
That was a lot of maybes, but there was one thing that was certain:
If I won this challenge, Tycho would be furious with me. He’d almost certainly force my mother to move back to the labor camps, and he’d figure out some way to make my life at the academy intolerable.
But he’d made it clear that I was important to his secret plans. I doubted he’d risk whatever he was working toward just to get me tossed out on my ear.
And I knew in my heart that taking a fall on the challenge would fill me with self-loathing. I’d come here to restore my family’s honor, not languish at the bottom of the rankings like the failure Grayson wanted me to be.
I stared at the scrivening. It was a complex design, and its bridges and loops were so devious it would take an enormous amount of jinsei to power it. I might be able to draw that much power from the rats around the School, but it would take time.
Time that I didn’t have.
I faked a cough, filched a concentrated energy pill from my belt, and dry swallowed it. Jinsei flooded through my core in a blast of pure spiritual power.
I stared at the scrivening’s ignition point, my mind racing with doubts and fears. The metal’s polished surface reflected my face behind the scrivening. My eyes were dark and sunken with heavy black bags under them. My cheeks were gaunt, and there were new lines across my forehead. I looked a hundred years older than I had when I left home.
All the doubt and worry had left their mark. Tycho’s relentless demands for more purification from me had marked me as clearly as a tattoo.