by Gage Lee
“You’ll have to teach me how that works,” I said. “But, first, breakfast.”
“May I join you?” Hahen seemed almost embarrassed to ask the question. “I no longer need to eat, but I do enjoy the smells and time with... friends.”
He hesitated on the final word. The rat spirit hadn’t seen me for most of last year, thanks to Tycho, and we’d ended the school year before that on somewhat shaky terms.
“Of course, my friend.” I considered scratching him between his spectral ears and immediately decided that would be a terrible idea. He was my mentor, not a pet.
We made our way downstairs and into the main hallway. Only upperclassmen were around; the initiates wouldn’t arrive for at least another couple of hours. I craned my head above the crowd of students, searching for Clem’s bright pink hair and matching robes. Of all my friends, she was the one I’d missed most while I’d been cooped up in Atlantis. When we’d parted ways, she’d been headed back to Kyoto to start summer vacation with her parents.
“Hey, stranger,” Eric called. He’d shot up almost a foot over the summer and added what looked like at least twenty pounds of muscle. He forged a path through the other students with the ease of a shark parting a school of minnows and pulled me into a rough hug. Satisfied he’d crushed the air out of my lungs, Eric pushed me back and threw a feigned punch into my shoulder. “You look good! How was the torture?”
“Painful.” I grinned. “Boring, really. Looks like you finally grew into your ego.”
“Funny man,” Eric said with a shake of his head. “You could look like this, too. All you have to do is earn a slot in the Inferno Battle Federation and spend all summer training with their physical adepts.”
“You got in! That’s amazing!” And it really was. The IBF was one of the biggest prizefighting organizations in the world. If Eric did well there, he’d move up to the big leagues in no time. Most of the current crop of topflight professional fighters had come out of that federation. “I can’t wait to watch you in the ring.”
“Soon, man,” Eric said. “No license until I turn eighteen. Then, who knows? I might not even need to finish school.”
“If you quit school to get punched in the face for a living, I will never forgive you,” Clem declared. She elbowed her way in between us. “Give me a hug, you big jerks.”
Clem gave Eric a quick squeeze, then practically crushed my spine with a fierce hug. Her hair tickled my nose. It smelled like fresh wildflowers and citrus. It was also the deep, dusky violet of a mashed blueberry instead of the pink it had been the last time I’d seen her. Her light gray robes fit more snugly than the outfit she’d favored last year, and her high-topped boots matched the color of her hair.
“Jerks?” Eric asked. “I tried to call you a dozen times over the summer. You were always away from your phone.”
“I called a hundred times! They wouldn’t let you take any calls during training sessions,” Clem shot back. “Which, apparently, last all day and night.”
“What about him?” Eric jabbed a finger at me. “He went off to Atlantis and didn’t tell anyone at all. If it hadn’t been for Hahen’s spirit message, I’d have thought the Locust Court had gotten to him!”
“I know,” Clem said suspiciously as she stepped back from me. “You really should have called before you left for vacation.”
“It wasn’t my fault! They snatched me right off the beach.” I pointed at Hahen, who nimbly clambered up my arm to perch on my shoulder.
“He’s telling the truth, this time,” Hahen acknowledged. “The Inquisition isn’t known for their consideration of others. But, as you can see, he came through the experience in fine health.”
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Clem asked. “Mother says the inquisitors are known to overstep their bounds.”
I shrugged. “My core’s kind of achy, but that’s nothing new. The brothers really put me through it over the summer with all their questioning. A little rest and I’ll be fine.”
“Let’s eat,” Eric said. “We can catch up with food in our bellies.”
“That’s a fantastic idea,” Hagar said as she and Niddhogg, fluttering overhead, joined us. My clanmate threw an arm around my waist and the other around Clem. “I’m so hungry I could eat a dragon.”
“Knock it off!” Niddhogg growled from above our heads. The chubby little dragon’s wings flapped frantically to keep him aloft. “Nobody eats dragons. There’s a law.”
“It’s a very old law,” Hahen added. “But dragons really do not taste very good. Let’s get something more delicious.”
The rat spirit raised his nimble paws and parted them. The crowd between us and the door moved out of the way as if guided by a giant’s hand. The other students looked confused, but no one knew how to react to a dragon, a rat spirit, and the school’s former champion and world’s only Eclipse Warrior cutting in line for breakfast. I’d have to get Hahen to show me that technique. It could be very useful.
We loaded up our plates and staked out a table near the back corner of the dining room. Eric’s plate was nearly as full as mine, but he’d opted for heaping portions of fresh fruits and vegetables instead of the the mound of breakfast meats I’d piled on my own. Clem had a much smaller selection of grapefruit slices, berries, and a cup of vanilla yogurt alongside an omelet loaded with red and green bell peppers and so much cheese I thought it might moo. Hagar carried a tray heaped high with slices of carved ham and a mound of hash browns so crispy they were nearly black. In her other hand, she had a big mug of steaming coffee.
“That’s all you’re eating.” I wrinkled my nose at the odd plate.
“That’s for him.” Hagar poked Niddhogg’s belly when he landed on the table next to her. “Only the coffee’s mine.”
“That doesn’t sound very filling,” Clem said.
“I’ve already eaten,” Hagar said. “No one wants to see that. Because, you know, Path of the Blood Spider.”
I had no idea what Hagar meant by that, and I didn’t want to. Maybe she had to eat bugs. Maybe she needed to eat a lot of raw meat to replenish her blood aspects. Or she drank blood...
Nope, I did not want to know anything about her dining habits.
No one else at the table seemed inclined to question her about it, either. There were some things we were just better off not knowing.
“Anybody hear who the new champion was this year?” Eric asked. “I know the headmistress decided to do it based on academics, but never heard how it shook out.”
“They canceled the Five Dragons Challenge, so, no champion,” Clem said. “I guess traditionalists on the board didn’t want to name anyone if they couldn’t have their bloodsport.”
“Weird,” Hagar said. “It’s probably for the best. Rumor is they took that cottage out.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Hagar said. “I guess somebody made a big fuss out there and the PDF decided it was too much of a security risk to keep around.”
What had actually happened in the cottage was more than a big fuss. An assassin with my name on her list had killed my security detail, nearly murdered Hagar, and ended up with a bullet in her head. That was an experience I didn’t want to repeat.
“How did they select the initiates without a challenge?” Eric asked.
“The clans called a conclave to pick them,” Clem said. “The newbies still have to go through Mama Weaver for assignments, though. Well, except for the Disciples. Because—”
“They’re evil.” Eric ducked away from Clem’s feinted slap. “It’s true!”
The Disciples of Jade Flame was the only clan that picked its own members and was never assigned any by the School. It wasn’t really because they were evil, but the tradition was so mired in complex Empyreal political wrangling no one had ever been able to explain it to me. It was just the way it was.
But if the clans had picked the candidates, that meant no kids from the undercity had a chance to come to the School. That was disappoin
ting, and I felt bad for my part in denying them their shot. I’d have to figure out some way to fix that before next year.
“There were some surprise candidates, though.” Hagar winked at me. “Elder Sanrin was pretty excited about them.”
“The Shadow Phoenix clan sent some?” I asked. Like the Disciples, the Phoenixes never sent anyone to the School. Unlike the Disciples, though, we always got the least promising members of the Initiate class. That, too, was a tradition that dated back to the fall of the Eclipse Warriors.
“No,” Hagar said with a shake of her head. “We got tons of applicants over the summer. Your name as the hero of Kyoto got us a lot of attention from hopefuls. Unfortunately, we’re still bound by the old covenants. Maybe you can get that changed this year.”
“That would be nice, but it’ll never happen,” Clem said with a snort. “The rest of the clans would lose their minds.”
“That’s already happened,” Eric snickered. “Between the heretics and the missing elders, no one knows which way to jump.”
Hagar slid her chair around closer to Eric’s and gave his arm a squeeze.
“You should keep your voice down,” she said. “Not everyone knows what really happened in Kyoto. Probably best to keep it that way.”
“It was a very thorough cover-up,” Clem muttered, obviously irritated by that fact. “Everyone thinks the elders are in hiding because of a terrorist attack by the heretics. No one knows what Jace really did.”
“I wish they’d kept a lid on my identity,” I said. “It’s nice that people think I did the right thing, but people are not going to be happy with a black-eyed Eclipse Warrior walking around.”
“That’s gone down smoother than you’d think,” Hagar said over her mug of coffee. “That’s why we got so many applicants. Everybody wants to be like you, Jace. You’re such a dreamy hero.”
“I’m no hero,” I groused. “I was the only one who could stop the—”
Hagar made a quick motion with one hand, and something sticky glued my lips together. I caught a bitter taste with a faint metallic tang.
“Oh, gross,” Eric groaned. “That’s disgusting, Hagar.”
“You big baby.” Hagar rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. Whatever had held my mouth shut vanished. “It’s a new trick I picked up over the summer. It’s not much good in combat, but it makes a good party trick. I only used it because Jace was about to say the L-word.”
“Wipe your mouth.” Clem handed me a white napkin.
I scrubbed it across my lips, and it came away stained a dark crimson.
“This better not be blood.” My stomach turned and my appetite vanished. “Hagar, tell me this isn’t blood.”
“It’s not exactly blood,” she said with a shrug. “Only blood aspects.”
“You know”—I swallowed hard and put the napkin down on the table next to my half-empty plate—“I don’t think that’s better. Let’s not do that again.”
“Just don’t say the L-word, and I won’t have to.” Hagar winked. “The boss would like all that kept really, really quiet.”
“Did the heretics take credit for that attack?” I asked.
“No,” Hagar started, then clamped her mouth shut.
“Mr. Warin,” Headmistress Cruzal said from behind me. She rested her hands on my shoulders, and waves of comforting warmth spread down my spine from her fingertips. “I’d like a word with you.”
The headmistress stepped back to allow me to rise from my chair, beamed a dazzling smile at me, then turned and led me out of the dining hall.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your breakfast,” she called over her shoulder as we threaded our way through the crowd. “How are you feeling today?”
“I’m fine,” I replied. “You can tell the Inquisition that nothing’s changed since they last saw me.”
“Hmm, yes,” Cruzal said. “They warned me you’ve been less than cooperative during their questionings. You won’t be any trouble for me this year, will you?”
Cruzal didn’t bother to look at me when she asked the question. Her tone was cold and distant, as if she had more important things on her mind than a rebellious student.
“That depends,” I answered honestly. “I have enough enemies. I’d rather not make more. Are you planning on asking me to do something that would make me cause you trouble?”
“Not at all.” Cruzal finally stopped and turned to face me. “I wanted to introduce you to some new students before things got too hectic with your normal classes and aptitudes.”
That was surprising. I would’ve thought the meet-and-greet action had ended when I was no longer the School’s champion. Though no one had been named as my successor, so I guess I was still the reigning champion.
I’d miss that cottage.
“These students are a bit skittish.” Cruzal guided me down a narrow passage into an older part of the campus. “They’re also very untraditional, so don’t be alarmed by their appearances.”
That was a laugh. I was about the least traditional student the School had ever seen.
“I don’t judge books by their covers, honored Headmistress,” I said honestly. “I’ll try to set their minds at ease.”
“That would be excellent,” Cruzal said. “These students are quite valuable. It’s imperative that we do everything in our power to help them succeed.”
Something about Cruzal’s tone rankled me. It was as if she were talking about objects, not people.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help them reach their potential,” I said. “Though I’m not sure what I can do for them.”
“You’re the only one who can guide them.” Headmistress Cruzal had stopped in front of an iron-bandit door set into a rough stone wall.
Before I could respond, she’d pulled the door open and breezed into the classroom. I followed her, and the door swung closed behind us with a bang that startled the new kids so badly I thought they’d run.
“Good morning, initiates,” Cruzal called to the students, who looked like a pack of nervous rabbits. There were plenty of chairs arranged in orderly rows and columns across the room, but the new initiates had chosen to stand in clusters scattered around the perimeter. They glanced nervously from Cruzal to me, then dropped their eyes.
My all-black stare tended to have that effect on people.
“I want to go home.” A blonde girl with olive skin and piercing green eyes stepped away from her group. “Now.”
“We can discuss arrangements for your return after orientation.” Headmistress Cruzal kept her tone warm and kind, but that didn’t do anything to hide the biting undercurrent to her words. These kids were no more guests here than I had been at the Temple. “For now, I would like you to meet one of the School of Swords and Serpents’ most promising initiates, Mr. Jace Warin, the hero of Kyoto.”
“He was the champion last year.” A scrawny initiate with big brown eyes and scruffy black hair pointed at me. “He was undefeated.”
I nodded. “I was. Though a few candidates came close to beating me.”
“Miss Rachel says you can help us,” the blonde girl piped up. “She said if we came here, you’d teach us to be like you.”
Hearing Rachel’s name triggered a cascade of memories. The last time I’d seen her she’d been headed off to work in an outreach program to find more hollow cores. I’d figured it would take most of this year for that project to show any progress.
It looked like I was wrong.
“Of course he will!” Headmistress Cruzal put her warm hand on my shoulder. “Mr. Warin will be your professor of Eclipse Studies. With his help, you will all continue in the proud tradition of those historic champions of humanity. Under his guidance, you’ll be the next generation of Eclipse Warriors.”
The students seemed dubious about this, and I couldn’t help but agree with their assessment. I was no professor.
Headmistress Cruzal gave my shoulder another squeeze, then leaned in close.
“Don’t let us down, J
ace,” she said. “Brother Harlan assured me you were the only one capable of transforming these poor souls into creatures of value. It would be most unfortunate for all of us if you proved the inquisitor wrong.”
The Aptitudes
CRUZAL LET ME CHAT with the students for a few minutes, until we were interrupted by a pack of wardens armed with robes, toiletries, and shower brushes. The initiates stared at the upperclassmen like they’d just seen a ghost.
“It’s okay,” I said in a tone that I hoped was reassuring.
I’d been an initiate from the labor camps not so very long ago. The School had nearly overwhelmed me, even with Clem, Eric, and Abi to help guide me through the first year. These poor kids didn’t even have that. I gave each of the twelve students a smile and gestured for them to go with the wardens.
I grabbed the last warden by the wrist as he followed the group out the door. He was a Shadow Phoenix with a frown that seemed etched into his face.
“Be kind to them,” I said. “Or you’ll wish you had been.”
The Shadow Phoenix thrust his chin out like he wanted to say something, then stopped when he met my black gaze.
“I’ll see to it,” he promised.
“See, you’re already looking out for them,” Cruzal said when we were alone. “I know this is a lot to drop on you, especially on top of the aptitude assessments, but you can handle it.”
“Thank you for your confidence in me, honored Headmistress,” I said with a bow. “About those assessments—”
“Oh, yes.” She frowned. “I didn’t mean for this to take as long as it did. I’m afraid the dining hall is closed. You’ll have to hurry to reach your first assessment. It’s being held in the same courtyard where they used to hold the final challenge. Can you find your way there?”
That part of the School still resonated in my core. My memories of the final challenge and everything that had happened around it were an emotional lodestone I could follow with my eyes closed.
“Of course. When will I meet with the other hollows again?” I asked.