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

by J D Astra

  When the spell dissipated, Hana scowled. “That’s cheating.”

  I shrugged. “No one told me any rules.”

  Hana charged, her muscles rippling with zo munje. She reached out for a grab, and I deflected her hands. My feet sank into the sand as I stepped back, keeping pace with her relentless assault.

  “And this isn’t cheating?” I asked between blocking kicks.

  “You’re getting dunked,” she said with a wild smile.

  “Dunk him!” Yuri screamed.

  Arms clamped down over mine and across my chest from behind. Cho’s arms.

  “Traitor!” I screamed as Cho pulled me into the air with his superior height.

  “Just making it even!” he laughed, dashing into the water.

  I wriggled, bucked, and kicked but somehow couldn’t get free. Cho was knee-deep and not stopping. Fine, if I was getting dunked, he was too. When a tall wave hit us, I locked my feet behind his knees and pulled. I took a deep breath, blocking my nose with a shield of en munje.

  “Who’s pretty now?” Cho laughed and faceplanted me into the wave.

  Cold water rushed over my face, but not up my nose! Cho’s grip loosened, and I twisted free, kicking off deeper into the bay. I surfaced and took a huge breath, then went back under. The water tugged at me unnaturally, and I released ma munje to undo the spell that tried to drag me back.

  I surfaced again and turned to see Yuri, somehow floating on top of the water. She splashed me as she went by on a flat sheet of ice. She swam her arms through the air rhythmically, propelling herself around in a wide arc. She was coming back around to splash me again. We’d see about that.

  Another big wave rushed toward me, and I wrapped my head in a loose pocket of air. I dove down and kicked, unleashing spell-disrupting ma from my feet in big swaths. The meters appeared at the edges of my vision to show my remaining stores of munje.

  “Thanks, Mae!” I shouted into my little bubble of air with a grin.

  Mae gave a great, big, joyful sigh. “It’s good to be functional again.”

  To my relief, her voice was back to normal. Yuri’s ice board coasted over me, riding the wave, and I surfaced just in time. I sent a surge of dispelling ma munje toward her, and Yuri’s board split apart with a crack. She waved her arms wildly, trying to keep herself upright on the two slender pieces under each foot.

  I laughed. ‘So, what happened to you?’

  “Do you know that feeling when a lot of people are talking in a small room and it becomes hard to think?”

  I knew it all too well from having so many siblings and a tiny house.

  “Well, imagine five-hundred Daegon screaming at the top of their lungs in the bathroom. Dokun’s facility is loud. Apparently so loud it was disrupting my ability to function. I’m sure I can protect against it, but it’ll take some time.”

  I bobbed up and down as another wave passed me. ‘How long? How can I help?’

  She blew a raspberry. “I don’t know. A year? My analogy was much too simple to really describe what was happening to me, and I doubt the solution will be as simple.”

  The water tugged on my toes gently, and I looked around for the ambush—but there was nothing. A constricting squeeze surged through the inside of my legs, and before I could register what was happening, I was jerked under. My stomach lurched into my chest as I was dragged deeper and farther out into the bay by the blood in my body. Yuri’s wriggling movements on the board hadn’t been to keep her balance, she had been casting her Blood Command.

  The water rushed past me so fast that I struggled to pull my arms out to the side. I needed to slow down and get air in my lungs. I unleashed ma munje through my legs, trying to dispel her munje, while I sent en to my arms. I pushed my hands down to my sides, forcing the water away from me. The magical dragline that had caught me didn’t relent even a fraction. My ears ached, and I forced air into the canal through my nose to equalize.

  This couldn’t be Yuri’s doing... Where was she pulling me to? Why?

  ‘What’s happening?’ I asked Mae in a panic.

  “I don’t know!” she cried back. “I’m still not fully recovered, but I’m working on it. Just hold on, Jiyong! Fight it!”

  I pushed en up from my neck, encasing my face in a shield to trap the air bubbles. I opened my eyes to nothing but black. Ten meters above me was the surface of the water, glistening gently from the golden clouds above.

  I took a shallow breath from the trapped air and prepared to cycle... but for what? The en repulsion had barely slowed me down, and the ma dispel hadn’t worked. It was obvious whatever had cast this spell was well above the skill of a third band. What could save us from the horrible fate that awaited when the monster’s face emerged from the deep?

  We slowed, and a rippling barrier emerged, and behind it was a massive, black, tubular shape. Something orange appeared at the side, and blue twisted out from it. That blue soaked into the water around me, slowing me to a near stop. I knew that orange.

  My feet crossed the barrier into dry air, then my chest, and I saw my opportunity. I kicked at his glowing blue hands, trying to loosen his control over the water and set myself free. He jerked away, then slapped my leg down with a spark of red. My leg went numb, dropping uselessly.

  It was the same spell I’d used against Shin-soo, though I hadn’t known how to use it. My mind came alive with the replay of Bo fighting my father in the garden and the explosions of red that put her on the ground. I hadn’t had a breath to cycle in too long, and my ma was too low to try to counter him.

  I crossed into the large pocket of air, weightlessly hanging before the open hatch of the submarine. I wanted to gasp in the oxygen to ease my burning lungs, but I breathed slowly and glared down the fox-masked man standing in the open hatch. Salty seawater dripped down my hair and lashes, blurring my vision, but I glared on.

  He pulled the mask up, revealing bright green eyes. “Hello again, son.”

  Chapter 23

  “I’M NOT YOUR SON. WE disowned you,” I snarled the words, but it didn’t seem to affect him. His face was neutral, and his posture relaxed—aside from the twisting movement of his right hand, which seemed to keep me afloat on the air.

  His stony gaze locked on mine. “I had gone only far enough to disappear from sight, but I heard everything. I’d heard the agony in your screams—”

  “Agony you caused!” I snapped, my voice loud in the tiny space.

  Angry heat filled my body with nowhere to go. I wanted to beat him bloody and drag him back to Busa-nan for trial, but his power far surpassed my own. It was no use yelling if I didn’t have any munje to back it up, or a working leg.

  Mae whispered to me. “I’m working to regain control of your leg. Keep him distracted.”

  Hiro sighed. “That’s the very reason I didn’t return. I want to explain what happened.”

  I crossed my arms, turning my heavy, angry breaths deeper to cycle what little energy I had left for ma. It was a long shot, but I had a few ideas. “I don’t want to hear it, but I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  He cocked his head. “You disowned me. I can’t make you listen.” He flicked the fingers on his right hand, and I lurched backwards. Icy water splashed over my head and ran down my back. I sputtered, blowing the rushing sea away from my mouth to get a deep breath.

  I drifted forward again at Hiro’s command. “The alternative to listening is I release you into the water. You won’t hear from me again, and whatever happens, happens. But if you listen, I’ll return you to a safe port.”

  I gritted my teeth against the mind-numbing chill running through my skull. “I’d prefer not to die—which is what releasing me here would do—so, go on. Tell your fable.”

  He pulled me closer with a wave of his hand. “Come in. I have tea.”

  Hiro stepped back, and I was sucked into the open hatch along with all the air that had created the bubble. He set me down. I put all my weight into the good leg. The numb one tingled
like thousands of needle pricks, and when I tried to lift it, nothing happened.

  Hiro walked through the dark, narrow hall without looking back. I growled, put my hand against the wall for support, and dragged my disabled leg with a limp as I followed. With every step, I let a fraction of my ma flow into the walls of the giant machina.

  ‘Ignore my leg for now. What is this thing, and can I remote operate it like Tuko?’

  “On it. Give me a few minutes,” Mae whispered back.

  It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, myriad features stood out. There were pipes running overhead, and I sent a burst of ma to them through the wall. My munje traveled like syrup through the dense metal, making it harder to analyze quickly. Two of the pipes contained wiring, two more had air flowing through them, and the fifth and sixth had liquid of some kind.

  I’d need to drop a lot more ma if I were going to map the whole machina, let alone operate it. Trying to take control without seeing the whole picture was a recipe for disaster. One wrong move with something that seemed inconsequential could be the death of us.

  We came to a five-way intersection, with a tunnel leading to a hatch above, and three tunnels leading in the other cardinal directions. Hiro turned right, but I took a moment to look left. There was another closed hatch a few meters down, nothing that could indicate where we were on the ship, how it was oriented, or where the controls were located. The ma exploration process just got a whole lot harder.

  I took a moment at the intersection, as if repositioning my leg, and let loose my entire ma reserve. There was still some munje recycling I could perform and a fraction of energy left to convert. I couldn’t wait for the need to arise to create munje, because by then it could be too late. I settled to transform the last of it into en and ry. I’d need the element of surprise to make an emergency escape if Plan A didn’t work out.

  Hiro waited patiently, then walked slowly to keep pace with my limp when I was ready to move on. We made it to another hatch that he twirled open with ease. On the other side was an artificially lit, open space bisected by support beams. Colorful hammocks hung between a few of the beams, though the slings were empty.

  Hairs raised on the back of my neck as I realized we may not be alone. Not that Hiro needed anyone else to crush me, but someone could be keeping an eye on the systems. If I wasn’t careful, I could tip them off.

  I pulled my hand away from the wall, losing contact with my ma. We walked past the hammocks and down a set of grated metal stairs. I touched every support beam on the way, ensuring I could reconnect with the ma I’d delivered. It was all still there, listening for my orders.

  Below the living quarters was a kitchen and dining space that spanned the width of the room. A tall cylinder of water in the back corner hissed as it released steam into the air, then a spigot lowered. A kettle whizzed along the countertop on a conveyer belt and stopped below the spigot.

  My snaking ribbons of ma slithered through the pipes running overhead throughout the vessel, seeking the main controls. I kept focus on it between support beams as Hiro led me to a table emerging from the ground. Panels of the flooring slipped back, and the table constructed itself with a series of flips and spins.

  “Helps to save space when you’re a smuggler,” he said coolly, as if I cared or thought this was interesting at all.

  I scowled at him. “All the more life-ending drugs you can distribute.”

  He grumbled and gestured for me to sit, then went to collect the kettle. I plopped down unceremoniously. I dragged my bum leg into a crossed position and set my hands on the table to keep contact with the metal of the ship. I let my vision blur and built a construct of the vessel from my ma’s journey.

  It was a skeleton of a recreation since the munje had stayed in the pipes. I didn’t have enough to venture far, and knew the wires had to lead somewhere important.

  Mae’s voice appeared in my mind. “Located the main controls. They’re swarmed with his ma. He can’t be outputting this all on his own, so there must be a reservoir somewhere. Keep him talking while we map.”

  Hiro returned to the table with two teacups and the kettle. He poured the tea, then scooted the cup across to me with a vacant expression. Something whirred in the walls, creating a low hum, and the lights shuddered for a moment.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You really think I’m going to drink that?”

  “Suit yourself.” He shrugged and took a sip.

  “Only a fool would drink what’s been poured by an enemy.”

  He nodded. “Only a fool would enter into his enemy’s domain.”

  “The ocean seemed like a pretty safe place at the time.”

  Hiro barked a single laugh that held no joy. “Not the sea, you stupid boy... Kokyu. Why did you think you’d be safe there?”

  I keep my face expressionless. “Tell me your story so I can be on my way.”

  “I have never wanted anything more than to return to you.”

  My stomach clenched and heart hammered. “That’s the worst lie I’ve ever heard. Next, you’re going to tell me Dokun mind controlled you the whole time, none of it was your choice.”

  He shook his head, gaze falling to the teacup. “It’s not mind control, but he is powerful. He kept stringing me along. With every advance we made, we’d get one step closer to curing your mother.”

  “Closer to curing Mother? What about the dozens you killed and the thousands you made ill? Some will never recover. Children! You poisoned children,” I said, a traitorous lump growing in my throat. As much as I despised him, I couldn’t stop this feeling of devastation. How could my father have done this?

  He looked up, his brow furrowed. “I told him the risks of running the experiment, but he wanted to proceed.”

  I scoffed. “I might have believed you before Dokun told me what really happened.”

  “You met with him alone? That was incredibly stupid.” He harumphed, then raised the tea to his lips.

  It wasn’t as if I had a choice! I’d decided to come to Kokyu to try to discover the depth of Dokun’s plot—which might not even be his plot. Everything else had been my best attempt to navigate the twisting river of life, of chaos, and the threads of everyone’s plans. Dokun’s, Woong-ji’s, Hiro’s... they were all scheming to some grand end, and my friends and I were caught in the middle.

  “At least I’m not a coward who uses children to do his bidding,” I hissed through clenched teeth.

  “No, you’re an idiot,” he said, slamming the teacup down. The liquid splashed out, but before it hit the table, Hiro caught it with a burst of en. The tea-drops hung in mid-air for a second, then with a tug of his finger, they zipped back into the cup.

  He looked down, mumbling, “I should’ve been there for you.”

  “We did fine without you,” I said coldly.

  “Obviously not,” he said, pointing to the scar on the side of my head. “When will you learn your limitations? You’ve always been reaching out for more, ever since you were a baby. Faster, more knowledge, more power, more, more!” He looked at me with contempt. “And it’s obvious who you learned it from.”

  “Don’t you dare say a word against her!” The fire in my chest blazed red hot, leaving my head swimming with anger.

  “Do you know the story of how your mother became so broken? How the baby inside her was ruined?”

  “Minjee is not ruined,” I growled, tears welling in my eyes. “And yes, she did tell me how jealous she’d been of my advancement. That her need to not feel left behind by her husband and son drove her to cheat.”

  “And she paid the ultimate sacrifice—the life of a child.”

  “Minjee lives a fine life without powers like ours—but that’s not something you’d know about.”

  Hiro shook his head. “She didn’t tell you everything. Minjee wasn’t the only child growing in her womb. If Dokun knew the truth, Minjee would’ve been taken from you long ago.”

  “And what truth is that?”
I sneered.

  “That Minjee’s not just a munje mute—she’s anti-munje. The potion Moon took created a new core inside her to replicate the deconstruction nanites that would help take apart her old munje core and allow her to rebuild the new one. But the programming wasn’t sophisticated, it wasn’t supposed to create its own replication center. Dokun’s been trying to write that behavior out... which is why he wants you,” Hiro said, pointing to my chest.

  Mae hummed in my head. “Before you write Hiro off, this sounds plausible. We did find a foreign core built into the base of Moon’s own when we scanned her in detail.”

  ‘Shouldn’t you be looking for that munje reservoir?’ I asked back with heat.

  Hiro smirked. “Yes, confer with your ghost, I’m sure she’ll confirm it. And worse, that programming didn’t know where to create this destructive core, or how many to make.”

  “What are you implying?” I asked, getting impatient.

  “Minjee is harboring a dangerous force inside her, one that Dokun would exploit. If you’re not strong enough to protect her, she’s too dangerous to exist.”

  “I was so sorry to hear about your mother Moon’s uncontrollable illness, and the child, what was its name?” Dokun’s casual question filled my head. Why had I given him her name?

  Mae’s voice cut off that train of thought. “I think I found the ship’s reservoir. There are three outgoing main pipes, and I’ll need to block all of them. Keep him going.”

  I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts. If Minjee was important to Dokun’s plot, he’d be trying to get to her tooth and nail, which meant using every avenue he had available. The lies of Hiro’s departure from Dokun’s employ could’ve been fabricated to lure me into this trap of giving away more...

  My head ached from the twisting strings of treachery and deceit. I couldn’t divine anything from all the information I had. There was too much to take in and too many variables in play to make such a critical judgement. I didn’t even know what my master was truly fighting for. I couldn’t trust anyone right now.

  “You’ve done nothing but lie to, threaten, and hurt this family. Why should I expect any different from you? I couldn’t trust you to answer honestly if I asked whether you’re still working for Dokun, and I can’t believe anything you have to say.”