by Lynette Noni
“You want to meet us back here?” Jordan asked his girlfriend.
“Sounds good. But if we haven’t joined you by the time you’re done, come find us,” D.C. answered, smiling at Bear again before leaning up to give Jordan a light kiss and then taking off towards the dorm building.
“Looks like things are going well with you both,” Bear commented as he and Jordan entered the food court and sat at the closest available table.
With a contented sigh, Jordan said, “She’s amazing.”
Bear grinned as he ordered the biggest steak on the menu. “You sound like a love-struck dope.”
Jordan returned his grin and said, “Believe me, I know. Past-me would have been kicking my own ass by now. But… things change.”
A shadow of darkness flickered in Jordan’s eyes before he was able to blink it back and grin again. The moment had been fleeting, but was enough for Bear’s heart to ache at the reminder of what his friend had been through at Aven’s hands—and over the rest of his life. Jordan had never had it easy. His family was a mess, his childhood the stuff of nightmares, but despite all that, he’d managed to survive it all.
Bear was self-aware enough to know he’d had a hand in helping his friend through a lot of that. His family had basically adopted Jordan from the first moment they’d met, and that had gone a long way to healing Jordan’s past wounds. But so much pain had lingered still, and been added to after he’d been Claimed. When he’d first been saved by Alex, Bear had feared the darkness within Jordan would scar him forever.
Looking at his friend now, Bear was eternally grateful that Jordan had found a way to overcome the shadows within. D.C., Bear knew, had played a large role in that healing, but Jordan had still had to face his nightmares and make the decision to move on from them. For that reason and many others, he was, without a doubt, one of the strongest people Bear knew—and someone he was damn proud to call his best friend.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Bear blinked, realising he’d been staring. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
“Well, eat while you think, or your food’ll get cold,” Jordan said, pointing a fork to the plate that had appeared in front of Bear.
Needing no further encouragement, Bear dug in with relish, only just holding back a moan at how good it tasted. Jordan was enjoying some kind of chicken dish, and for long moments neither of them spoke as they focused solely on their meals.
Only when his stomach was beginning to feel somewhat full again did Bear say, “How do you think Alex went today?”
“Honestly?” Jordan said, swallowing a mouthful of vegetables. “It could have gone either way. If the Shadow Walkers are all like Caspar Lennox, then we’re screwed. But maybe she’ll have had some luck with the Dayriders.”
Bear was nodding. “I don’t know much about Dayriders, but Blake hates when he has to liaise with the Shadow Walkers. Says they’re haughty and racist. And hate humans in particular.”
Jordan snorted. “That bodes well for us.”
Bear’s lips twitched. “If by ‘bodes well’ you mean ‘we’re dead’, then sure.”
“It’s like you read my mind,” Jordan replied, his eyes laughing.
Bear had no idea how they were managing to find humour in the situation. But then again, it was either that or wallow in misery and fear of what the future was likely to bring.
“Enough guessing,” Bear said, watching his now empty plate disappear right after Jordan’s. “Let’s go and see what Alex has to report.”
As Bear had feared, upon arriving at Alex and D.C.’s dorm room, he and Jordan learned that the visit to Graevale hadn’t gone well. But since the two powerful races might yet be swayed into helping, he was determined to remain optimistic.
It helped that the Shadow Wolf pup Alex had returned with was there to lighten the mood, the black furball yipping excitedly and trying to chew their hands and feet off—much to Alex’s displeasure.
It also helped that, while they were showering attention on the wolf, Bear’s parents and little sister arrived for a surprise visit. He was shocked at first, since they rarely visited him at the academy, and then he felt a spike of fear, wondering if something had happened to one of his brothers or Gammy. But his panic faded once his mum explained that the academy had informed them about his injury and they’d come to make sure he was okay.
That, however, didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes when Evie ran straight from Alex to Jordan without so much as a ‘hello’ to Bear—the little traitor.
Over two hours passed before his family left, with Dorothy kissing his cheek and reminding him to be careful, and William hugging him close and whispering, “I love you,” into Bear’s ear before pulling back again. Despite having felt the love of his father since birth, Bear still had to blink away tears. And when he returned the words, it was in a voice hoarse enough that William just held him closer before releasing him.
“Let me walk you out,” Bear said, stepping forward.
“Don’t even think about it,” Dorothy said with a stern look only a mother could give. “You’re to rest that leg until it’s all better, you hear? You shouldn’t even be standing right now.”
“Mum, I’m fine, really—”
“What did I just say? Rest. Now.”
William wisely said nothing, though he did chuckle lightly as he gathered up the sleeping Evie from where she was curled beside Soraya. The resigned look he sent the Shadow Wolf was almost as comical as the strict look Dorothy was still sending Bear.
“Barnold, you’re still on your feet,” she said pointedly.
Jordan, D.C. and Alex all snickered, their humour growing at the face Bear pulled. His parents only used his full name when he was in trouble—something his friends well knew. He didn’t hate his name, but in nearly eighteen years, he’d never understood what had driven his mum and dad to choose something so strange. Especially when the rest of his siblings had such normal names.
“Unless I’m camping out with Alex and Dix tonight, I’ll have to return to my room at some stage,” Bear said. “That requires me to stand. And walk. On my perfectly fine, non-broken legs.”
Dorothy pursed her lips. “From here to there, nowhere else.”
Bear had to fight a grin. His mum, he knew, was only concerned. But even she had to realise she was being over the top with her mothering. Everyone else certainly knew, if the continued snickers and chuckles were any indication.
“We’ll see you all again soon,” William promised them—promised Bear—as he led the way towards the door with Evie still sleeping in his arms.
“No more broken bones,” Dorothy told Bear as she trailed after her husband. “No more broken anything, or I’ll drag you back to Woodhaven and lock you up until this Aven mess is all over and done with. Understood?”
“Pretty sure that’s illegal, Mum,” Bear said, his grin now breaking free. “And Dad’ll likely lose his job if anyone finds out.”
“Good. That’ll save me from locking him up, too,” Dorothy said, causing William to shake with humour as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. A few steps more, and they were gone from the room, bickering quietly as they headed down the corridor.
A contented sigh left Jordan as he said, “I love our family.”
Those four words had Bear sighing contentedly as well, and that feeling stayed with him for the rest of the night, long after he and Jordan took off for their own room and found their way to their beds.
Two
“Brian! A moment, if you please!”
Bear had just finished his final class before lunch on Monday when Fitzy’s call reached him. He was right at the door, in the process of hanging up his lab coat, when he turned and saw the crazy-haired professor waving him over. Despite four years of being an Epsilon student, Fitzy still didn’t know his name—didn’t know anyone’s name, for that matter—but like most people, Bear found that to be unendingly hilarious. The man was a genius when it came to Chemistry, yet som
ehow everything else was beyond him.
“Sir?” Bear asked, moving back through the laboratory benches with only a slight limp to his walk now after another full night’s sleep.
The professor was scrolling through his personal TCD tablet, on which Bear could see complex equations and scribbled drawings in nearly illegible handwriting.
“How can I help you, Barclay?” Fitzy asked, pushing his glasses up his nose and not realising—or caring—that half of his moustache was coloured blue, as it had been all class.
Bear blinked, then carefully said, “You called me, sir. How can I help you?”
It was Fitzy’s turn to blink, but then his eyes focused behind his magnified lenses and he said, “Ah, yes. Forgive me, I wasn’t thinking.”
When he began scrolling through his tablet again and said no more, Bear pressed, “So…?”
Fitzy jumped as if startled. “Goodness, Bellamy, how long have you been standing there?”
Bear had to stifle a laugh. “Sir, did you want me for something?”
Fitzy straightened his glasses again. “Come to think of it, since you’re here, I could use some help.”
It was a struggle for Bear not to roll his eyes. Instead, he said, “What kind of help?”
Fitzy finally placed the tablet on the bench and gave Bear his full attention. “I’m working on a project and have reached a point where I could use another mind to brainstorm through some unanticipated complications. You’re my best student, Bucky—what do you say to some extra credit?”
Bear loved Chemistry. It was something that came naturally to him, but more than that, he thoroughly enjoyed all the possibilities it presented. Humans weren’t capable of magic, but with Chemistry, there was no end to what they could do; no limit to the wonders they could invent. All it took was some out-of-the-box thinking and, with the right equation and ingredients, anything was possible.
Because of that, Bear never turned down Fitzy’s offers for extra credit work. Mostly because those projects always ended up being challenging enough to actually make Bear have to think—something that made the end results all the more satisfying.
“What’s the project?” Bear asked.
Fitzy picked up the tablet again and scrolled backwards until he reached what he was looking for, handing it over to Bear.
“I’ve been tasked with creating a device that will contain two solutions within. Upon activation, there needs to be an amplified spray, ensuring that both solutions are distributed and reach their intended targets within an expansive zone. Both solutions, Baxter. That’s very important.”
Bear scanned the rough two-dimensional drawings of the prototype Fitzy was working on, nodding as he saw the direction his professor was taking. He also saw what Fitzy wasn’t saying.
Tapping his finger on the circular diagram, Bear said, “It’s a weapon.”
Fitzy didn’t meet Bear’s eyes as he brushed an arm down his lab coat, dislodging some glittery vessaroot powder that they’d been using in their lesson and had somehow ended up coating the professor. With it fizzling and sparking in the air as it was disturbed, he merely replied, “I never said that.”
Bear raised an eyebrow, but otherwise let it go so he could focus back on the drawings, squinting as he tried to read Fitzy’s scribbled equations. “You mentioned complications?”
“Yes, yes,” Fitzy said, nodding eagerly. “We may only have a limited supply of both solutions so they need to spread far and wide, but the devices themselves need to be compact enough to be carried with ease.”
Deadpan, Bear repeated, “Because it’s a weapon.”
“Semantics.” Fitzy waved a hand. “The point is, with the devices needing to be so small, I’m struggling to design a compression system that will enable the spray to travel across a vast distance.”
“How far?” Bear asked.
“As far as possible,” Fitzy replied. “The more range, the better.”
Bear nodded, chewing his cheek as he considered. “When’s your deadline?”
“I said I would have a working prototype within a fortnight.”
A fortnight wasn’t long, but Bear at least had some time to consider options. “Okay, I’ll—”
“But that was over a week ago.”
Bear only just refrained from sighing. Instead, he deliberately kept his tone even as he said, “Fitzy, how long do I have?”
“The sooner the better, Benjamin,” Fitzy replied. “By the end of the week, preferably.”
The end of the week. Bear found that he was almost glad he’d broken his leg since it meant he was excused from his physical classes for the next two days. With no Combat, PE, Archery or Equestrian Skills, he’d be able to spend those classes working on Fitzy’s project.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Bear told his teacher. He pulled out his much smaller ComTCD and pointed to Fitzy’s tablet. “Can I get a copy of all this?”
Fitzy transferred the files over, and once he was finished, Bear asked, “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what kind of weapon this is, who it’s for, or what it’ll do?”
“Weapon?” Fitzy said, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Brydon.”
And with that, the Chemistry professor walked away, heading out of the room and leaving Bear to wonder at the eccentricities of his borderline-crazy teacher.
Every spare moment for the rest of the day had Bear pulling up the diagram on his ComTCD and puzzling over the prototype. Whenever his friends noticed his inattention, he simply told them that he was doing an extra credit project for Fitzy, as he so often did. He half wondered if he should clue them in on this one, especially since he could only presume that the weapon must be in development to help with the coming dangers, but he held back, not wanting to get their hopes up when he himself had no idea what he was really working on. Once he knew more, he would share his suspicions, but until then, it would remain his and Fitzy’s secret.
“Where do you suppose Alex takes off to every night?” Jordan said later that evening in their dorm. He was meant to be finishing his SOSAC homework due the next day, but instead his notes were discarded and he was lying on his bed, bouncing a neon pink ball off the wall over and over again. The repetitive thumping sound was drilling into Bear’s ears as he tried to concentrate on Fitzy’s equations, enough that he was glad to take a break if only to give his mind a moment of peace.
“You’ve noticed too?” Bear said, laying his ComTCD aside, along with the notebook he’d been using to scribble his thoughts—most of which were scratched out after he’d decided they wouldn’t work.
Jordan snorted. “It’s a bit obvious, even if she thinks we haven’t realised. Nine o’clock every night, except on Tuesdays and Thursdays when she takes off after SAS.”
“And she’s only gone long enough to walk to the Tower and back,” Bear said. “It has to have something to do with the Library.”
“It’s strange she won’t tell us about it,” Jordan said, catching the ball as it bounced off the wall before throwing it again. “Dix says she’s gone most mornings, too. Early.”
Bear made a hmm sound. “I didn’t know about that.”
“My guess is that she’s training with Zain and Kyia in the mornings—secret Meyarin warrior stuff,” Jordan said. “It almost makes me wish some of Aven’s blood had stayed with me so I could join her.”
Bear’s gaze sharpened on his friend. “You don’t mean that.”
Jordan’s throwing stopped, his eyes moving to take in Bear’s stricken expression. Quietly, he said, “You’re right. I don’t.” A tentative smile touched his lips as he added, “But I would give a lot to watch one of their training sessions.”
Shaking off the troubled feeling that had settled upon him—a lingering phantom of what he’d felt while Jordan had been Claimed—Bear carefully said, “I know you’ve worked through a lot in the last couple of weeks, but if you ever need to talk, about any of it—”
“I know, Bear,”
Jordan said, his tone still quiet, the ball still unmoving in his hands. “I promise I won’t bottle it all up again.” His mouth twitched. “It’s not like it did me any good last time, with three busybody friends who refused to let me act like everything was fine.”
“You’re not a very good actor,” Bear said, wryly. “I suggest you consider a different career path.”
Jordan laughed and resumed throwing the ball. “Noted.”
“And about Alex,” Bear said, feeling better now that he could see Jordan was, too, “there must be a good reason why she’s not telling us what she’s up to, especially since she knows we’re all capable of keeping her secrets. I say we leave her alone and wait for her to tell us when she’s ready.”
Jordan nodded. “I agree. And Dix does, too, which is why she’s been acting like she hasn’t noticed Alex’s early morning disappearances. Or her night ones, even if she’s always back in time for curfew.”
“I just hope…” Bear trailed off, not sure how to share what he was feeling.
“What?” Jordan pressed.
Not looking at his friend, Bear said, “I just hope she doesn’t think she’s alone in this. Or that she has to do it all herself.”
“That’s why it’s our job to remind her that she’s not,” Jordan said, understanding. “We mightn’t be able to fight like a Meyarin or have her willpower gift, but we’re not without our own strengths. One of which is how much we care for her, and how we’ll do whatever it takes to support her as she tries to keep us all alive through whatever comes next.”
Bear looked at his friend, really looked at him. Pride welled up within him as he realised just how much Jordan had matured since Alex had come into their lives.
“You’re right, Jordan,” Bear said in a voice full of feeling. “We’ll make sure she knows.”
Jordan’s eyes flicked to him in between ball catches. “You should know it for yourself, too, mate. You keep telling me you’re here if I need you—the same works in reverse. Always. You know that, right?”