Subterfuge: A Cultivation Academy Series (Bastion Academy Book 3)

by J D Astra

  Ko-nah didn’t look worried. He didn’t look anything. Not curious, not scared, nor angry. He just looked back at me with hollow, lifeless eyes. Then he turned away and pushed his empty cart to the kitchen.

  Grandmaster Ena led us to the center of the simply decorated room and stood before us with a smile. “We are excited to begin this journey of learning with you. Please, spread out among the tables so our students may welcome you themselves. Dinner will begin shortly.”

  Ena left us to find our seats, heading back the way we came through the kitchens. I looked to Hana, who seemed to be doing much better at hiding her rage. Only the slightest hint of a frown showed between her eyebrows. I gave her a gentle nod, then looked at the others. Shin-soo’s lips were pressed into a thin white line, Yuri looked bored, and Cho’s eyes were wide with worry. We were not doing the best job of hiding our thoughts.

  We dispersed through the low, four-seater tables until each of us was alone, waiting for company. I kept the others in my sights, taking an outside table near the windows that overlooked the garden. Woong-ji and Sung-ki found tables near mine, as if they were keeping an eye on me.

  The other students came in a handful at a time, filling in the seats in a seemingly random fashion. No one joined my table. By the time the room was almost full, three students approached my table together from the kitchens. I didn’t have to look to know who was among the three. I kept my gaze fixed out the window as I tracked the approaching figures in my periphery.

  “Just breathe,” Mae reminded me, and I became aware of my pounding pulse. I inhaled deeply and held the breath at the top. My lungs ached from how full they were, but it took my mind off the wild anger that threatened to burn me up from the inside out.

  The three students sat in coordinated elegance. Ko-nah looked me in the eyes—an act almost deserving of breaking my calm—and spoke in Kokyugo. “What’s your name, friend?”

  “Law, Jiyong,” I replied monotonously. It was all I could do to keep the anger from my tone, and so I opted for boredom.

  “This is Matsuo, Genta,” Ko-nah said as he gestured to the student on his left. Genta was older, either a fourth- or fifth-year student, and bore the scars of hard living: a broken nose, an old gash across his jaw. He’d been hurt a long time ago and unable to heal or be healed. He was several centimeters taller than me, with well-trained muscles. A bodyguard, perhaps?

  “This is Sano, Kotomi.” He gestured to the girl on his right. She was petite, smaller even than Ko-nah, with jade eyes like mine and high cheekbones. She wore her hair twisted on top of her head like many of the other girls, but had bangs framing her eyes and forehead.

  Ko-nah rest his hand on his heart. “I’m Tagaki, Akito. You can address us by our given names, if you’d like.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Genta, Kotomi, and Akito.” I spoke Ko-nah’s false name with an acidic hiss, then bowed to each of them.

  “We’re glad you’re here,” Kotomi said in a voice so high and quiet she could’ve been a child.

  Genta bobbed his head. “We know all about the horrible things that happened at Bastion and in Busa-nan.”

  “We’re very sorry,” Ko-nah added.

  I gripped the legs of my dobok to keep from wrapping my hands around Ko-nah’s neck. I took another deep breath and allowed my face to relax into a gentle smile. “Your apologies—while appreciated—are not necessary. You were not the cause of the horrible things that happened.”

  Genta and Kotomi glanced to Ko-nah, then back to me. Kotomi folded her hands on the table, then spoke even quieter than before. “We know all about the things that happened, what Jade Fire did.”

  Was this some kind of trick? I should’ve expected as much from Ko-nah.

  “It was well documented and distributed, so I don’t doubt that,” I replied, keeping my expression casual.

  “Is he being thick?” Genta asked Ko-nah.

  “He’s being cautious,” Ko-nah whispered back.

  Mae chimed a warning in my head. “Calm.”

  I brought my attention back to my jang-ryzo, refreshing it once more. I glanced around at the other tables. Hana was engaging in lively conversation that was grins and laughs. Cho was nervous, but still smiling. With our serious, unsmiling faces, we were the only table that looked out of the ordinary. I smoothed out the bunched material on my pants and folded my hands on the table.

  “What do you do for fun in Sonma?” I asked.

  Ko-nah shrugged. “Bot battles, shopping, festivals, plan insurrection. The usual.”

  I couldn’t let him bait me into his hand. “If you don’t want to call attention to yourself, Akito, perhaps you shouldn’t discuss open rebellion in the dining hall.”

  Genta laughed, a deep sound that seemed genuine. “He’s angrier than you said he’d be.”

  These fools were going to expose me if I didn’t find some way to shut them up.

  “Our conversation is already masked. From the outside, we’re talking about the local nature preserve,” Ko-nah said, and I glanced to my left and right. I reached out with a bit of ma and felt the barrier. It responded with a gentle shimmer of purple that enveloped us. I retracted my ma dispel, and the shimmering faded. It was a trick Hana had used many times to shield our discussions, though Ko-nah had gotten much better at hiding the visual effects.

  I leaned across the table, glaring Ko-nah down as I broke into my native tongue, “Do not think for a second that I would hesitate to end you if given the chance, fujek pungbahn.”

  The other two at the table tensed. Ko-nah sucked his teeth, then broke into Busaneo. “I don’t suppose you want to hear my side of the story?”

  “I’d rather stab that chopstick into my eardrum than suffer your lies.”

  “Jiyong, calm!” Mae warned with a tiny jolt through my chest.

  I sat back, my hands trembling. I cycled to breaths of zo and silenced the jittery nerves, then slowed my heart. Min-hwan had been right. I was not ready for this.

  Ko-nah smiled and nodded behind me to the growing line for food. “Just like home, eh?”

  “We should’ve talked to the girl first,” Kotomi whispered to Ko-nah, and my gaze narrowed on her.

  “No,” Ko-nah said in Kokyugo, then looked me dead in the face. “You think he’s angry? I’m not sure a public setting would stay her hand.”

  I was done tiptoeing around. “What do you want?”

  Ko-nah shrugged. “Not that you’ll believe me, especially since you don’t want to know about what I went through to get here, but we want to help you.”

  “Akito,” Genta growled the name like a warning.

  Kotomi’s fingers glowed a gentle lilac and aimed at Ko-nah’s chest from the edge of the table. It was a subtle gesture, but a menacing one. I’d read the dynamic all wrong. Genta wasn’t Ko-nah’s bodyguard, and Kotomi wasn’t part of his loyal following. They were keeping him in check.

  I looked to Genta for answers. “Who’s we?”

  “It’s our turn,” Kotomi said with a bright smile. She stood, grabbing her plate and bowl, then joined the back of the meal line.

  I mirrored her mood as I left Ko-nah’s bubble of deception. Ko-nah stepped into line ahead of me. I leaned toward him, a smile on my face as I whispered over his shoulder, “You will explain everything tonight.”

  “I thought you’d rather go deaf?” he said with a sarcastic grin.

  I lowered my voice further, then infused it with ry so it wouldn’t carry. “I’d rather extract the truth from your corpse, but I’ll settle to hear it from your compatriots.”

  Ko-nah laughed and shifted again to Busaneo. “Is that what they are?”

  Kotomi glanced over her shoulder with a piercing gaze.

  I kept my voice low and continued on in Busaneo. “If you think I’ll have a shred of empathy for you—”

  “I wouldn’t expect it. I don’t deserve it.” Ko-nah stopped me as we reached the buffet. The image of him lying on his bed our second year, his arm wrapped over his f
ace, flashed in my mind. “What do you care?” he asked in my memory.

  “This is a popular noodle dish. It’s spicy,” Ko-nah said in Kokyugo, pointing to a warm tray full of thick, tan noodles and assorted vegetables.

  I didn’t have much of an appetite, despite not having had much to eat all day. I knew I needed to eat, but I would let Mae pick the best choices. She highlighted the foods in my vision with a soft glow, and I loaded up my plate accordingly.

  We returned to our table and the bubble of protective ry.

  Kotomi turned to me. “Enough dancing. We know what you’ve come for. You need our help.”

  I kept my eyes on my plate and ate mechanically. “Mm, the noodles are spicy,” I said, my mouth half-full.

  Kotomi sighed and looked to her own meal.

  “This was a dangerous waste of time,” Genta grumbled to Ko-nah. “Your worth is diminishing, and your welcome wearing thin, uragirimono.”

  I hadn’t learned this word in my summer training, but judging by Ko-nah’s nervous smirk, it wasn’t a friendly term.

  “You still need me,” Ko-nah assured him.

  The rest of the meal progressed in hostile silence, though Ko-nah promised it looked much warmer from the outside. What were the chances this was some elaborate show Ko-nah had put on to help earn my trust back? Too high.

  I couldn’t risk talking to any of these students, no matter how much they said they knew about our purpose. Woong-ji and Sung-ki would know what to do about it... hopefully.

  When the meal was done, Grandmaster Ena stood and held up her hand. The room became quiet in a blink, and I marveled at the obedience of these students. Calling the dining room to order with a single gesture at Bastion would’ve taken at least a few seconds.

  Ena smiled. “We’re grateful for the exchange students we have the privilege of hosting. I will now announce your room units. When I call your name, please join me here and your unit will step forward to take you on your tour.”

  This was all very different from how the exchange students were integrated at Bastion. They’d slept in the group lodging, but typically shared rooms with each other. Ena called the first student forward, and her group met her with an excited bow. The other girls varied widely in age and were certainly not all from the same grade.

  Hana was called, and another group of excited girls came to retrieve her. This was going to limit our ability to communicate significantly—unless Woong-ji could be persuaded to teach us her ry transmission skill. It was something I’d seen her use with Ryni and several others at the Rabid Rabbit, but she was reluctant to even admit the skill existed, let alone tell me anything about it.

  “Law, Jiyong,” Ena called, and I stood from the table, happy to be rid of Ko-nah and his hostile gang.

  Ena smiled curiously when I approached her. “Law, that’s a Kokyu family name, is it not?”

  I didn’t want the questioning that would come after my honesty, so I opted for ignorance. I smiled sheepishly. “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, perhaps we could find out while you’re here. Maybe you have relatives.”

  I was starting to wonder how secret our mission was. Her comment could’ve been seeking a rise, or she might not know anything. “Maybe,” I said, mirroring her bright smile.

  Ena looked to the room and asked, “Team Long River, will you claim Jiyong, please?”

  Why was I not surprised that Ko-nah rose to his feet? When he turned, there was an excited grin on his face. Three other boys, one much older and two who looked like first-years, jumped up from tables around the room.

  Ko-nah approached, hand out for a shake. I’d seen the other teams do this and knew if I didn’t take his offering, it would be a sign of disrespect. I gripped his hand tightly and smiled, baring my teeth. “So glad to be with you.”

  “We will learn much together, friend,” Ko-nah stressed the word for long-term friend, which was different from a just-met acquaintance. A stupid mistake or strange posturing? I wasn’t sure what Ko-nah was trying to accomplish by telling the others in Long River that we’d know each other from before.

  I shook the other boys’ hands in turn, and they introduced themselves: Yin was the oldest, at least nineteen and well built. Kago was a shorter boy with brown hair and pockmarked skin. Doroku—or Roku—was fit for his young age of fourteen, with black hair and bright blue eyes.

  They walked me to the side of the room where I stood waiting to be dismissed with the other groups. Cho did his best not to communicate so much with his eyes as he stared me down. The look was concerned. Are you going to be okay? he asked with his wrinkled forehead and pursed lips.

  I gave a tiny jerk of my head. Yes, I would be okay, but I was not going to enjoy this. Ko-nah—Akito—was going to make my life hell. He was going to shadow every step and interfere with every plan. He was going to be a dangerous obstacle, but one I was more prepared to handle than last year. He wouldn’t get the better of me this time.

  When every exchange student had a group to room with, the students clapped.

  Ena grinned. “Welcome to your new families, friends from Busa-nan. We wish you the best.”

  Chapter 12

  LONG RIVER ESCORTED me through the many levels of the school, giving me a proper tour. Lodging was at the very top of far too many stairs. I’d thought three flights of stairs was a lot my first year at Bastion, when my legs were as strong as noodles. Now they would grow even stronger, I supposed.

  We had a room to ourselves, and my bag had already been brought up to the open bedroll. While I knew the Kokyu slept on the floors and rolled up their beds every morning for a neat and tidy room, it was still strange to see. Convenient for saving space, though.

  Next they took me to the long vertical shaft at the center of the pagoda: the fūdō, meaning wind tunnel. It was open to the sky above, and wind was pumped through from the bottom—aptly named, but not very creative. The square corridor opened from all four directions so the tube was accessible from every angle. At the center was the windy spire that glowed with pearly light. I reached out and placed my hand against the glass. It was warm and hummed with energy.

  “This is for descending all the way to the bottom, and can only be accessed from the rooming levels,” Roku said with a nervous look that I deciphered in a second. He’d used it for purposes other than that before and had been punished.

  “How did you get in trouble?” I asked with a kind smile.

  His eyes bulged and he looked to Yin, asking, “Can they read minds?”

  I chuckled. “Some of us can.”

  Ko-nah was still as a tree in the dead of winter while the others laughed.

  Yin put a hand on Roku’s shoulder, then looked at me. “He was trying to send snacks up to our room.”

  “I get hungry at night. I need a lot of energy for these muscles,” Roku protested and flexed.

  “So, how do I use it?” I asked, nodding toward the fūdō.

  Yin crossed his arms with a grin. “Have you done air manipulation yet?”

  The other Bastion students had not, but I and the Bros had covered it in Min-hwan’s summer training. “Some, but not much,” I said, trying to be vague so if I seemed to pick it up too quickly, I’d have an excuse.

  Yin closed his eyes. “Align your core for an enzo spell.” He took a deep breath, and so did I, closing my eyes like him.

  “When you have enough for ten seconds down both arms, move like this,” he said, and I opened my eyes. He took a wide stance, then began circling his arms horizontally out in front of him. It looked as though he were pulling the air in toward his chest. His torso swayed side to side with each scooping motion.

  I mimicked him, since this was not how I’d used air manipulation before.

  “The wind in the fūdō is strong, so you’ll need your own shell to help direct it around you. Allow the enzo to flow down your arms in this motion, and imagine a barrier growing up from your feet. It’s shaped like an arrow pointing down from your feet and out fro
m your hands. It will help you pierce the magically infused gusts.”

  ‘Magically infused? Mae, can you see anything about that wind?’ I kept my face placid and asked in my mind.

  “I’ll need some ma to evaluate it,” she replied.

  Yin moved his arms faster, and I noticed the light blue enzo munje flowing down his clothes. “One part will reinforce your body to keep it in that arrow shape. The other half is to create the air shield that will provide enough resistance to slow your descent when you near the bottom.”

  He halted his movement and then held his arms out parallel to the ground. “This is stop, and up.”

  He bent his elbows and brought his arms halfway to his sides. “This is slow down.”

  Finally, he slapped his palms against his legs and stood up rigidly. “This is go down real fast.”

  I nodded. “Sounds easy enough.”

  “Ready to try?” Yin asked with an excited grin.

  I looked to Ko-nah. If he wanted to kill me, this would be the easiest way. Dispel my magic just before I jumped into the shoot with a burst of ma. But would I be ejected out the top of the pagoda or plummet to the bottom like a stone? Either way, Ko-nah could murder me easily without being implicated... unless I prepared.

  I cycled a breath of ma to help me counter whatever anti-munje spell he might throw my way. Even if it was only a two-band defense, I couldn’t see Ko-nah having more than two ma blocks to dispel my own magic.

  “We’ll all follow you down,” Ko-nah said, as if trying to assuage my fear. Even though he couldn’t read my mind, he could see my facial expression had shifted, making the worry obvious. The others could’ve been thinking I was scared to fall, but I could tell Ko-nah knew exactly what I was thinking.

  Would he not be concerned I’d do the same to him? If I wanted to kill him, this would be my best chance. The tightness of Mae’s fear pulled at my chest, but she was silent.

  “Okay,” I said, my voice cracking from nerves. I released the enzo and watched the cloud of baby blue mist drift down my dobok to my feet. Warmth swelled from my hands and looped under my toes. When I put my arms out wide, the bubble of warm expanded and grew colder.