School of Swords and Serpents Boxset: Books 1 - 3 (Hollow Core, Eclipse Core, Chaos Core)

by Gage Lee

  “I’m not sure. And don’t call them that. It’s offensive.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m just very sensitive about the optics on this. You know how it is with campers.”

  “My apologies,” I said, confused. I’d never considered the term offensive, and wasn’t sure why anyone else would, either. They were hollow cores. That was just a fact. Campers, though, was a slur I’d heard more than enough in my life. It took great effort for me to keep my face neutral when Cruzal said the word. “Please let me know when I can be of service again.”

  “Of course.” Cruzal beamed another smile in my direction. I was surprised to feel it erode the edges of my anger. “Run along, Jace.”

  I hated to be dismissed like a child, but I didn’t see any profit in arguing with the headmistress. I bit my tongue and headed for the first aptitude assessment.

  I reached the courtyard just in time to see the other third-year students lining up by clan. The Shadow Phoenixes were the smallest group of students, and there was no hiding my tardiness as I slipped into their ranks.

  “Thank you for joining us, Mr. Warin,” Professor Ishigara called out to me from the small stage at the end of the courtyard. “I’ll repeat the instructions for you. When I sound the commencement chime, you will begin cycling your breathing. Continue to cycle until you are told to stop. Do not be distracted by the observers. They are not here to grade you. We merely wish to assess your aptitude for different aspects.”

  I was relieved our first test was so simple. Cycling was the most natural thing in the world to me, and I fell into an easy rhythm the instant the professor sounded her chime. My breath flowed into my nostrils and brought jinsei tainted with aspects of anxiety, confusion, and outright fear into my body.

  Normally, my core would strip those aspects out into my aura and leave me filled with purified jinsei. This time, though, there was a sharp, stabbing pain that knocked me out of my cycle and left me breathless.

  I’d never experienced anything like that and wasn’t sure what had triggered the spike of agony. For long moments, I was afraid to even inhale, much less return to cycling. I steeled myself and took a slow, shallow breath.

  No pain.

  A slightly deeper breath.

  Still good.

  Finally, I took a long, deep breath that filled my lungs completely. My attention was focused on the way my muscles and organs felt, and I analyzed every sensation for any sign of pain.

  Nothing.

  The good news was that there wasn’t a physical cause for the pain I’d experienced. The bad news was that meant it had come from my core.

  One of Ishigara’s observers, a slight figure hidden in the folds of a hooded azure robe, drifted toward me. The weight of their attention on my core was distracting. Exactly what I didn’t need.

  I gritted my teeth in frustration and focused on my cycling. Breathe in, strip out the aspects, hold the jinsei in my core, breathe out.

  My inhalation felt sluggish and weak. It took me longer than ever to strip the aspects out. Though there was no pain, the weakness was even more frightening. Something was wrong with me.

  I was so deep in concentration I didn’t even notice Professor Ishigara until she cleared her throat and spoke to me.

  “You seem to be struggling, Mr. Warin,” she said. “I thought you were one of our most powerful students. Professor Song even claimed you would surpass us all before the end of this year. It seems his confidence must have been misplaced.”

  I opened my mouth to explain, but the professor silenced me with a single lacquered nail pressed to my upper lip.

  “No excuses. Continue cycling, don’t mind me.” Her thin smile barely concealed the points of her teeth. The professor was clearly amused by my struggles. She’d been one of Grayson’s favorites, and she was still grinding an ax over what had happened to him. None of that was my fault, of course, but not everyone believed I was innocent.

  The cycling went on for a solid two hours. By the end of it, my core felt like a bundle of knots and bruises. It was hard to catch my breath, and waves of nausea swept over me. When the ending chime sounded, the transition from meditation to normal awareness was so jarring I nearly lost my balance.

  I guessed the strain from the Inquisition’s tests still hadn’t worn off.

  “You’re dismissed,” Professor Ishigara called from her platform at the end of the courtyard. Her red-robed assistants handed her stacks of crystal slates that held the results of our aptitude assessment from today. “Your regular classes begin tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”

  It was easy to spot Clem’s violet hair through the crowd headed for the exits. I slid between my fellow students, wincing when anyone touched my stomach or sides. My core felt ridiculously raw, as if I’d been cycling toxic sludge from the School’s waste system for the past twenty-four hours instead of the cool, clean air in the courtyard.

  “Are you all right?” Clem asked when I caught up to her.

  “I’m fine,” I bluffed. “I’m still recovering from the Inquisition and didn’t expect to be tested again so soon. I just need some food and a nap.”

  “You need to go to the infirmary,” Clem insisted after she’d taken a quick look at my aura and core. “You’re a mess.”

  A wave of cramps rippled through my core before I could argue with my friend. The pain was so intense it buckled my knees. I grabbed hold of Clem’s shoulder for support, and she caught me before I fell.

  The rest of the students hustled past us, eager to avoid whatever drama was brewing around me. I couldn’t really blame them. My history at the School was filled with mayhem.

  “Geez, hanging all over each other in public,” Eric started, then his brows knitted together when he saw me. “You look bad, Jace.”

  “I’m still more handsome than you,” I shot back.

  A wave of pressure washed over my core. Someone powerful had just focused their attention on me. It couldn’t have been Ishigara; she wasn’t nearly that strong. The only people I knew who could exert that much force through their jinsei senses were sages or elders. Grayson and Tycho were both missing. That left my clan’s elders. I wouldn’t put it past them to spy on me, because the Shadow Phoenixes spied on everyone. It was kind of our job.

  “Just need to sit down for a minute,” I said.

  Eric and Clem eased me over to one of the benches that lined the courtyard’s perimeter. The pain had me hunched over, hands on my knees, my chin almost touching my knuckles. Sitting down made it a little easier to endure the cramps. Unfortunately, the agony wasn’t going anywhere. It grew sharper, and I winced with every new pulse.

  “Let’s take him to the infirmary,” Clem demanded.

  The pain was so intense I couldn’t even examine myself to see what had gone wrong. Every time I tried to focus my attention on my core, a new lance of agony disrupted my concentration. I didn’t need to see it, though, to know that something was wrong with my core.

  “Let’s go.” I hurt too much to argue. “Before I keel over right here.”

  “Okay, man,” Eric said. “Nice and easy. That’s it. Lean on me. Good.”

  “I need a second,” I groaned. My friends had gotten me back onto my feet, but I didn’t think I could take a step. My knees shook and my core felt bruised and bloodied.

  “We can’t wait,” Clem said. She took a step, and I dragged my leg on her side forward. It took a monumental effort. My breath hitched in my lungs, and my muscles burned like I’d just run a marathon.

  My legs went limp as boiled noodles. All the strength in my arms vanished, and I lost my grip on my friends’ shoulders.

  Clem shouted something, and Eric grabbed my arm and eased me to the ground. I tried to tell my friends I was fine. I just needed to lie down and rest for a few minutes. The grass was so cool against the side of my face.

  My eyelids drifted closed.

  Just a few minutes. That’s all I needed.

  The Separation

  HUNGER
PANGS DRAGGED me back from the edge of unconsciousness. The aches radiated from my stomach, a faint echo of the agonizing pain that had brought me to my knees. I bolted upright in a strange bed, hands clutched to my abdomen. I held my breath, afraid to cycle and bring back the agony that had knocked me out.

  “Please relax.” Elder Hirani pressed her fingers against my chest and eased me back onto the mattress. “You’re in good hands.”

  While Hirani’s words were comforting, I didn’t believe her. I was naked from the waist up, my chest covered with scrivened medallions that clung to my skin like leeches. The large wood-paneled room I’d woken in was filled with machines that beeped and whirred with electric life. Other contraptions ticked and thrummed with jinsei that flowed through their scrivened circuits to trigger internal mechanisms. It all seemed very serious and worryingly complex. It was also all connected to me by a network of copper chains and lengths of thin wire attached to adhesive pads.

  “None of this looks like I’m going to be okay.” I tried to force a smile for Hirani. Judging by the look on her face, it didn’t work. “What happened to me?”

  “We’re still running tests.” My clan elder took my hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “I’ve had enough of tests,” I groaned. “The inquisitors poked at me for months. I can’t take any more.”

  “I know. We didn’t want to leave you in their custody, but with everything that’s happening, we couldn’t afford an extraction. When we have more time, you can tell us all what happened.” Hirani let out a weary sigh and shook her head. “Not that I know when we’ll have that luxury.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I assured the elder. Though I’d been angry at my clan for not mounting a rescue attempt when I’d first been taken, I’d known that was unrealistic. Attacking Atlantis wouldn’t have worked, anyway, and the clan would have suffered. They’d done the right thing by leaving me with the Inquisition. “So what do the tests say about me?”

  “Sanrin is reviewing the results of the first measurements, but so far, the numbers are inconclusive.” Hirani put a hand on mine. “We have more advanced facilities in Bogotá. We could transfer you there, and—”

  The door opened and Elder Sanrin and Elder Brand entered the recovery room. Their faces were grim.

  “Claude couldn’t come,” Sanrin said. “There was another heretic attack, and he can’t use the portal network from his current location. It’s unfortunate. We could have used his expertise.”

  The elders exchanged worried glances that bothered me almost as much as the equipment attached to my body. If three of the most powerful, intelligent, and wise people that I knew looked so worried, something very, very bad must have happened.

  “Just tell me what’s wrong,” I said. “The suspense is killing me.”

  “It’s not doing me any good, either,” Elder Sanrin admitted. “You’re an unusual case. Your core isn’t like any others. That makes figuring out what’s happened much more difficult.”

  “Maybe if all the information about Eclipse Warriors hadn’t been destroyed when they were betrayed, someone would know how to fix it,” I grumbled.

  “No,” Brand said sharply. “You’re not exactly like them.”

  Elder Sanrin raised a hand to silence my questions before they could begin. He snapped his fingers, and a chair whisked itself across the room to my bedside. The elder took a seat, crossed his arms in front of him, and leaned in close to me.

  “Your core was created imperfectly.” Sanrin considered his next words. “It had a gap in it. You plugged that gap with a core stolen from the Locust Court emissary. It was a clever, if unorthodox, solution to your problem.”

  “And that’s how I became an Eclipse Warrior,” I finished for him.

  “Jace, Eclipse Warriors were a fusion of two Empyreal cores.” Sanrin leaned back and steepled his fingers in front of his face. “You’re not exactly the same as they were. And that’s the problem.”

  “What’s the problem?” I blew out an exasperated sigh. “Just spit it out.”

  “Okay, tough guy,” Brand said. “Here’s the whole, ugly truth. Your core’s delaminating. We don’t know why, and we don’t know how to fix it.”

  “Unless we go to Bogotá,” Sanrin said. “We have the best experts there. It will take some time, but I am confident our people will be able to solve your problem before it reaches the terminal phase.”

  “I don’t understand.” I didn’t know what the terminal phase of delaminating was, but it sounded very, very bad.

  “Your core is made up of two halves.” Hirani held up her clasped hands to demonstrate. Then she lifted two fingers away from one another. “Unfortunately, the fusion is imperfect. Those two halves are separating into distinct layers. That’s the definition of delaminating.”

  Her words were like a splash of icy water in my face. I sank back into my bed and tried to ignore the beeping and whining of the machines attached to me. The medallions on my chest glowed red, then faded to a dusky violet as my panic settled into despair.

  If my core came apart, I’d be a hollow again. All the power I’d gained would vanish like mist under the morning sun. My core would be useless and all the progress I’d made would be undone.

  I’d be nothing more than a kid from the camps again. I wasn’t sure I could survive that.

  “How long would I be away from the School?” I asked.

  “There’s no way to know for certain.” Brand shrugged. “Could be a few days. Could be a few months. Maybe a lot longer. We’re in uncharted waters here, kid. We’re doing the best we can for you, but honestly, nobody knows.”

  “What happens if I don’t go with you?” I asked.

  “We don’t know that, either.” Sanrin sighed. “Your core seems stable at the moment. If I had to guess, your rapid advancement strained its natural imperfections. Those tiny fractures in the shell were further damaged by the stress caused by your time with the Inquisition.”

  Panic and despair went to war in my thoughts. I’d come so far, so fast. Tycho had used me. Grayson had tried to kill me. I’d saved the whole world from the Locust Court. And all I’d gotten for my trouble was aches and pains and a core that was splitting itself in half.

  “What about my mother?” I was desperate to change the subject. I needed time to make this decision.

  “We’re still searching for Eve,” Brand said. “Things have gotten messy out there, though.”

  “What happened?” I’d been locked up for three months and hadn’t had a chance to catch up on any news since I’d returned to the School.

  “Just rest,” Hirani urged. “Let’s save this conversation for when you’re recovering in Bogotá.”

  “He deserves to know,” Brand said.

  Sanrin considered the other elders’ words before he finally nodded.

  “The Empyrean Flame commanded that the truth about Kyoto be suppressed,” Sanrin explained. “Its priests didn’t want the populace to panic, which is exactly what would’ve happened if anyone found out that the Locust Court had not only survived but staged a counterattack. The priests have blamed the attack and the missing sages on heretic terrorists.”

  “Someone had to see me as an Eclipse Warrior in the courthouse.” Even if most didn’t know the true history of the Empyreals, someone had to have realized what I was.

  “That never happened. You were a concerned student who alerted the authorities to the impending attack.” Brand scoffed. “The PDF knows better than to spill the beans, and those Empyreals who survived the attack know the effect news of an Eclipse could have. The idiots would panic. Most of them would want you killed.”

  “Which we will not allow,” Sanrin added quickly. “The Inquisition returned you to the School because they need you to help with the new hollows.”

  “They’re worried about the training,” I said flatly. A pang of guilt pricked my conscience. Sanrin didn’t know about the convergence point, and I wasn’t sure I should tell him. That kind of knowledge was
dangerous, and if the inquisitors found out I was spreading it around, they might decide to silence me. That was a chance I didn’t want to take.

  “This whole project is experimental,” Sanrin said quietly. “And it was a significant investment. Everyone involved wants to keep it centralized and as controlled as possible.”

  “They want to keep an eye on us. In case things go wrong.” Frustration welled up inside me. Those hollows deserved the same chances that I’d had. They deserved to be treated as people, not experiments.

  “You need some rest,” Sanrin said. “Let us move you to Bogotá. You’ll get the best care possible, and our experts will find a cure for you.”

  I was sure Sanrin believed that was true. The real truth, though, was that the best medical care possible might not be enough to save my core. If I left the School, that also meant leaving the hollows behind. The initiates would be confused and frightened. With no one to guide them, there was no telling what might happen to them.

  If I did guide them, though, they might end up temporarily cured only to find their core tearing itself apart months or years later. That was terrible.

  But it wasn’t as terrible as never having a chance to repair their core, even briefly. I didn’t want to go back to the time before I knew there was more to life than I’d ever imagined as a hollow. The new initiates deserved the same chance to make that choice that I’d had. I’d give them that chance to decide for themselves.

  “I should go back to the School,” I said. “I can’t just disappear again.”

  “That may not be the safest course of action,” Hirani advised. “If you have another episode, you’ll need treatment immediately to prevent further damage.”

  The elders exchanged glances, then shrugged, one by one.

  “I won’t force you to go to the hospital,” Sanrin said. “But you’re on a knife’s edge, Jace. Don’t try to fool yourself into thinking you can beat this on your own. You need our help, and we’re willing to do whatever it takes to get you back on your feet. Don’t reject our offer of help so hastily. Take the night to think about it.”