by Gage Lee
The stone lions watched us move down the hallway, eyes half-lidded, yawning and swiping lazily at the floor beside our feet. The weight of the constructs’ awareness was heavy against my aura, and I knew they were far more prepared for a fight than they appeared.
“Your mom?” I asked, masking my discomfort with curiosity. “You didn’t want to see me?”
“No, that’s not, I mean, yes,” Clem stammered and blushed. “Of course I wanted to see you!”
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as we wrestled with the implications of what we’d both said. Whatever there was between us was too big and complicated for me to get my mind around. We were friends, I had no doubts there. Clem had stood by me during the worst time of my life. She’d never stopped believing in me.
“I’m glad,” I said finally. It seemed the easiest and least obnoxious thing to say. “That you came. If I’d known you were there, I would have made the guards let you in.”
“You were busy.” Clem shrugged. “You had twenty fights that day, I think. I’m surprised you could stand up when it was over.”
“Some days I couldn’t,” I said, glad she’d steered the conversation toward safer ground. “They had trainers and medics keeping an eye on me every day and night. Massages, saunas, ice baths, jinsei treatments—you name it, they used it to keep me going. It was nice, but man it was tiring.”
“That must have been something,” Clem said, her voice distant and distracted.
Had I said something wrong?
“Oh, there’s Abi!” Clem pointed down the hall, her voice suddenly bright with relief.
We’d entered the common area at the same time as our friend. His white uniform stood out in stark contrast to the other students, and when he waved all eyes turned toward us.
“My friends,” he said as he met us in the center of the room. “You caught me on my way back to the portal station after my break. How are your rooms?”
“Great,” Clem said. “At least mine is. We were on our way to check out Jace’s digs.”
“I’m sure mine won’t be as nice as Clem’s,” I said. “The Thunder’s Children are of much higher status than the Shadow Phoenixes.”
“Don’t be a dork,” Clem said. “All the clans are treated equally.”
“Sure,” I said, but we all knew that wasn’t true. Even if the Phoenixes had gained popularity since I’d become champion, they’d spent years getting the short end of the stick. If my rooms were even half as nice as Clem’s, I’d be shocked. “Hey, Abi, I bet the portals are way more interesting than my stupid bedroom. Wanna give us a tour?”
My friend took a moment too long to respond. He stared intently at me through the silence, as if looking for a secret I was keeping from him. Finally, he let out a faint sigh and shook his head.
“It’s not allowed, I’m afraid,” he said. “Security is the tightest it has ever been. I’m scarcely allowed to view my assigned portal, much less show anyone else around. Maybe when the protests calm down.”
His scrutiny prickled my nerves, and my core wanted me to strike him down for the raw suspicion I’d seen in his eyes. Abi had been pleasant enough earlier in the day, but he clearly didn’t trust me.
“Sure,” I said, struggling to hide my irritation. “Well, we won’t keep you.”
“Thank you.” He sketched a hasty bow and took off toward a hallway on the other side of the room.
“Busy guy,” Clem said.
I nodded and tried to push the anger aspects out of my aura. Abi had every right to be suspicious of me after what had happened in Singapore. He wasn’t the only one who watched me with wary eyes since that day.
I just wished he’d be more open with me. His secretive stares and cryptic comments were already getting on my nerves, and the first day of school wasn’t even over yet.
The Cottage
THE SHADOW PHOENIX dormitory tower surprised me in a lot of ways. I’d expected the same sort of gloomy, dark wood walls and floors that had dominated the new initiates’ quarters. Instead, the main hallway was lit by bars of ivory light shining from the ceiling. The walls were a pale cream color, covered in a faint pattern that reminded me of both scales and feathers. As Clem and I walked down the hall, the pattern took on a rainbow sheen of blues, greens, purples, and reds.
“This is different,” Clem said. “I don’t see your name on any of these doors, though.”
She was right. Each door had its occupant’s name emblazoned across it in letters that glowed with the same hypnotic hues as the wall. We were three-quarters of the way down the hall, and I hadn’t seen my name yet.
“Maybe they kicked me out,” I teased.
“That’s not very funny.” Clem frowned.
“It is, now,” I said with a grin. “It wouldn’t look very good for the School to kick out its champion after a record-breaking winning streak, would it?”
“They could still try,” Clem said, her voice low and urgent. “Winning a bunch of fights isn’t the same as winning people over. You think Grayson Bishop’s friends are willing to let bygones be bygones after what you did?”
That question had haunted me throughout the Five Dragons Challenge. Every city we stopped at was another opportunity for an enemy I didn’t even know to take a shot at me. And yet, no one had.
Maybe security had been tight enough to scare off would-be assassins or anti-Flame thugs.
Or, maybe they were biding their time until my guard was down.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Clem. “You’re right. I should keep my mouth shut about stuff like that. There’s probably a line of people waiting to knock me down a few pegs.”
“Hey,” Clem said, suddenly excited. “There’s your name.”
The only doors that remained were a pair of ornate ivory slabs at the very end of the hallway, their surfaces engraved with an elaborate scene of a fiery bird engaged in mortal combat with a serpent of some sort. There was a nameplate to the right of the doorway, and Clem was right.
I couldn’t believe it, but this was my room.
I traced each letter of my name, one at a time, and the illusory fire changed color as my finger moved through it. A wellspring of emotions bubbled up in my chest, and I bit the inside of my lip to hold it back. This wasn’t the time to go to pieces over seeing my name in lights. Clem wouldn’t understand how much it meant to me to have proof that I was worthy to be at the School. I’d look like a blubbering fool.
“Let’s see what’s inside,” I said.
The doors opened at my touch, sliding back into the walls on either side in utter silence. I’d expected a room like Clem’s or Eric’s.
Instead, I saw no room at all.
The double doors had opened to reveal a shaded walkway that wound its way between serpentine rows of tall, slender trees. Curious creatures somewhere between a squirrel and a fox perched on branches, their enormous amber eyes fixed on Clem and me. The air that gusted out of the unexpected forest was clean and clear, a faint, crisp chill on its breath.
“This day is just full of surprises,” Clem said. “Ready for a walk?”
“I guess,” I said. “I didn’t expect a portal here.”
I stepped onto the walkway first, unsure if there were any defenses that might bother Clem if she tried to go in ahead of me. There were no stone lions, but that didn’t mean something else wasn’t lurking beside the path. There was plenty of shrubbery and undergrowth to hide a snake, or even something larger.
When we reached the first bend in the walkway, I looked back and found the doors to my private sanctuary closed behind us. No one would be following us.
More of the squirrel-fox things peered out from the tree branches as we continued down the path. They were soon joined by birds with jewel-toned plumage, butterflies with wingspans wider than my chest, and swarms of tiny creatures I’d originally thought were hummingbirds, but which turned out to be tiny dragons.
“This can’t be real,” I said. “Thumb-sized dragons?”
/> “Niddhogg’s not much bigger than your thumb,” Clem said with a giggle. “I’ve never heard of itty-bitty dragons, though. Or those squirrel things.”
“It must be an illusion,” I said and reached out toward the nearest tiny dragon.
Most of the swarm buzzed away from my hand. One of the little creatures, though, zipped over closer to me. The wind from its wings was cool and gentle against the backs of my fingers. Its tiny tongue, ruby red and forked, flickered out to taste the air. Golden eyes with slit pupils focused on me, and then the creature landed on the tip of my right index finger. It weighed less than a feather, and its tiny claws put scarcely any pressure on my skin at all.
“That is a convincing illusion,” Clem said.
The tiny dragon puffed out its chest as if in pride, tilted its head back, and unleashed a thin thread of violet fire. Despite the flame’s small size, its heat warmed my face and ruffled my hair.
“I don’t think it’s an illusion,” I whispered.
Satisfied with its display of dominance, the tiny dragon leaped out of my hand and zipped away from me. It circled once around Clem’s vibrant pink hair, then buzzed away to join the rest of the swarm deeper in the forest.
“The school must really like its champions,” Clem said with a laugh. “I wonder if Hank had a room like this last year.”
Hank and I had spent a lot of time together during the tour. After I’d beaten him during the first fight of the challenge, he’d tagged along to keep me company and helped me navigate the etiquette that surrounded the tournament. There were a surprising number of political leaders and entertainers who wanted to meet the School’s champion, and Hank had saved me from making a fool of myself a hundred times during the summer.
But in all of our talks, he’d never mentioned any of the perks of this position.
“If he did, he never said anything about it to me.” I shrugged. “Maybe I got it because I went undefeated.”
The pathway spilled out of the forest onto the banks of a small lake. A bridge extended from the shore where the walkway ended all the way out to an island in the center of its dark waters. There was a quaint and cozy cottage perched in the middle of the island, its front porch no more than three yards from the shore. Like the School itself, the little building was a mishmash of styles common and exotic. I’d never seen anything quite like it, from its solid porch to the walls ringed by Roman-style friezes to the pagoda-like roof.
Clem and I stopped for a moment, just to stare at the thing.
“They gave me a whole house,” I said at last. “What is going on?”
“You know what they say about gift horses,” she said. “Don’t look in their mouths or they’ll bite you.”
Getting bitten was exactly what I was worried about. This could all have been some sort of elaborate trap designed to lure me away from the School of Swords and Serpents. Clem and I had no idea where we really were. If we disappeared, how long would it be before someone noticed?
My Eclipse nature surged to the front of my thoughts, and I had to take a deep cleansing breath to keep from snarling. Clem would certainly freak out if my eyes went black and serpents burst from my core. I had to control myself.
And the urges that came from the darkest part of me.
There was no point in worrying about hidden dangers. If something dangerous popped out of the lake or sprang an ambush on us inside the house, I’d deal with it. I was much stronger than anyone suspected.
Fortunately, no one tried to kill us as we crossed the lake. Enormous Koi fish glided through the water under the bridge, white bodies dappled with patches of red, gold, and black scales. The smallest one we saw was at least five feet long, and the largest had to be triple that size.
“I wonder what they eat,” Clem said.
“Curious Thunder’s Children,” I said with a wink.
The island was covered with a thick blanket of lush green grass. Tiny flowers the color of the pale blue sky over our heads poked up from the emerald blades in scattered patches. Ladybugs bigger than my fist took to the air on either side of the path as we made our way up to the porch. Their wings stirred up faint breezes, carrying the scent of the lake to my nostrils. It was hard to believe a place like this existed, and even harder to believe it was my home.
At least temporarily.
“Let’s see what we’ve got,” I said and opened the front door with a flourish.
The room inside the door took up the entire width of the cottage and was about ten feet deep. The walls were covered in cream-colored plaster divided by heavy wooden beams that joined the supports of the arched ceiling. Globes of light floated in the air, unconnected to anything we could see, not even a script to power them. They drifted around the room, adding a warm, comfortable light that left few shadows.
Six comfortable-looking easy chairs were arranged in a perfect circle around a low wooden coffee table in the center of the room. There was nothing on the table, but I imagined a coffee or tea set would fit perfectly there. It was a nice space to sit with friends and relax away from the bustle of the School.
An imposing stone fireplace dominated the wall to the right, and a wide picture window took up most of the front wall. A trophy cupboard filled with pictures and memorabilia from past Five Dragons Challenges occupied the left wall. A quick glance showed me that, yes, there was a picture of me in the cupboard. That was embarrassing.
I glimpsed the kitchen through a doorway on the far wall and motioned for Clem to join me. I’d rather have her with me than staring at the trophy wall. I’d feel like a moron if she thought I’d had anything to do with putting my picture up there.
“Maybe there’s some food in here,” I said.
“Do you ever think about anything else?” Clem asked.
I stopped at the question, and she bumped into my back. I turned around, just inside the kitchen, and leaned my hand against the doorway.
The pink top of Clem’s head was just below my chin. She looked up at me with wide eyes, surprised that I’d suddenly stopped. Her lips were the color of bubble gum, slightly parted to reveal the even white lines of her teeth. Her fading grin lingered in the upturned curls at the corners of her mouth.
I didn’t know why I’d stopped. I just stared down at her, frozen in place.
“Yes,” I said.
She blinked, cleared her throat, and arched her eyebrows quizzically.
“Yes what?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think about other things,” I said.
Before I could embarrass myself any further, I spun on one heel and headed deeper into the kitchen.
I wouldn’t be cooking any award-winning meals in the small space, but it was more than enough for a student. A refrigerator stood in the far corner, next to a tall, narrow window that looked out over the lake. Granite countertops lined the wall next to the appliance, broken only by four burners on a stainless steel plate and a microwave that was so clean I wondered if it had ever been used. Cabinets covered the wall above the countertops, and a quick peek inside showed they were full of spices, boxes of food, and a coffee set.
“Oh, they stocked the fridge, too,” Clem said from its open door. “They put steaks in here. Good ones.”
“I’ll have to figure out how to cook them,” I said with a grin. “Let’s check out the rest of the house.”
A single door to the right of the refrigerator led into a narrow hallway. A carpet runner ran down the center of the hall, its surface stitched with a big black bird with fire around its eyes and wings locked in a battle with a black serpent.
A staircase off the kitchen led up to the cottage’s second floor. Every one of the steps creaked under our feet, a chorus of squeals and groans that filled the house with unexpected noise. We both laughed at how surprised we were by the noise and shook our heads at how jumpy we were. There was no one here to hurt us, no traps waiting to spring on the unwary. The cottage was exactly what it looked like: a nice and cozy place for the School’s champion to rel
ax alone or with friends.
This year was suddenly looking up.
The upper floor of the cottage was an open bedroom. The king-sized bed was situated at the back of the house, under a wide picture window. The wall to its right held a closet with sliding doors. I took a peek inside and saw a selection of sleek black robes draped over wooden hangers suspended from a rail. A small shelf above my clothes held my personal effects, including the Manual of the New Moon. I slid the closet’s doors closed before Clem spied the book; she’d go crazy trying to get a look at the thing. I didn’t want to go down that road.
A heavy desk of dark-stained wood crouched at the front of the house under another window. A laptop, clearly one of the quantic models, sat in the center of the desk’s uncluttered surface. A black-covered notebook sat to the left of the laptop, and a red-lacquered pen lay on the desk to its right.
What grabbed my attention, though, was the golden envelope on top of the computer.
“Oh, that looks intriguing,” Clem said. “Open it!”
I didn’t need any further encouragement. Maybe it was a reward for being the only undefeated champion in the past hundred years. Maybe it was a letter from my mother.
Excited, I snatched the envelope off the laptop and turned it over in my hands. It was surprisingly heavy and sealed by a thick disk of black wax. There was no monogram or sigil pressed into the seal. With a shrug, I cracked the stamp and collected the brittle black remnants in my left hand.
The envelope didn’t so much open as unfurl. Its top flap curled away from the bottom flap, and the other seams unfolded so quickly I scarcely had time to realize what was happening. In less than a second, the envelope had opened into an origami phoenix, its beak slowly opening and closing, its wings gently flapping up and down.
“We humbly request the presence of the School’s honored champion,” the phoenix said in a deep, sonorous voice. “Would you do us the kindness of joining the elders of the Shadow Phoenix clan?”