Dragon Bone

Home > Other > Dragon Bone > Page 16
Dragon Bone Page 16

by J. D. Cavalida


  He did his best to swallow his unease and picked up his sword again. Still, he couldn't resist prying. "Isn't it cheating, if you've got all this fancy shielding while I don't?"

  Snow shrugged. "None of them are used against you. They're not protecting me from the kind of attacks you're capable of executing."

  "You mean I'm not good enough to hurt you?"

  "Yes," he said simply.

  "Huh. What if I stabbed you or something?" Elstrin muttered.

  "Then it'll hurt like hell and you get toilet duty for a month, plus a few notes on your criminal record." Snow held up his weapon. "No more chitchat. You still have a few minor points you need to improve on, especially in the later stages of a spar."

  "Okay." They got into the standard starting stance. "So… apart from super hearing, what else do your shields give you?"

  Snow sent him a flat glare, and Elstrin stopped asking.

  x

  Training, for him, finished at eight fifteen. He found that he could still walk, but only just, and he was basically falling asleep on his feet. It was as if the moment he'd let his sword drop, he'd somehow chucked away all his leftover strength. It took a few minutes for him to catch his breath, which didn't actually help, and repress the urge to just fall down and not get back up again. Night air nipped at his skin. Crickets chirped. Stars winked down at them. It was a beautiful night, really. Shame that he was not in the mood to enjoy it.

  Snow said conversationally, "We're starting metal swords next week."

  Elstrin shoved him away when he tried to steady his drunken stagger. "Good. Also. Fuck off."

  "You really shouldn't think I'm being unfair. I healed you, so it only makes sense that you train a little more, just for one day."

  "I fucking hate you. Go away."

  "If it makes you feel any better, you're improving quite a lot."

  "Okay. Now fuck off."

  Snow didn't fuck off, but Elstrin found that he didn't really mind. He didn't have the energy to mind. He focused on the distant lights of the cafeteria. His stomach growled impatiently. His boots dragged noisily along; he couldn't seem to lift them high enough to achieve the quiet crunching sound that normal people made when they walked on the field. Speaking of the field—had they expanded it while he wasn't looking? The cafeteria was an ungodly distance away. Maybe he'd just shrunk. Fucking hell. He needed the weekend. Still two days to go.

  When he finally reached the empty dining hall, he was stumbling quite ungracefully. He needed

  to get better socks; it felt like his feet were two giant blisters. He winced when he stepped in, threw an arm over his eyes, and boldly went on. "Uhhhnngghfuckkk," he grumbled, cursing all the benches and tables that got in the way of his painful journey to the food counter.

  "I'm half-expecting you to start moaning 'brains'," Snow remarked. Elstrin turned around and punched him in the stomach. His fist was caught long before it could connect with its target. "What? You do look distinctly zombie-like. Minus the rotten flesh, of course."

  "Just go away," Elstrin groaned, carefully loading a plate with fried rice. It wasn't the best on the menu, but he'd learnt not to eat difficult things like spaghetti while he was in this near-dead state. He sank onto the nearest bench and spent a while holding his head in his hands, afraid that it would just fall off his neck and roll away, disgusted at his body's unbelievably sluggish responses. Then he forced himself to eat.

  Snow filled a mug with something hot and sat down opposite him. Nobody spoke. Elstrin gazed steadily at nothing. Chewing was just like walking. Up, down, up, down. Like a machine. Easy. Sort of. His plate emptied slowly, then slower. A question floated into the tired void of his mind.

  He mumbled, dimly curious, "What're you doing here?"

  "Thinking," Snow replied, eyes trained on the tabletop, a little frown on his forehead. Right. His thinking face. Elstrin had seen that expression plenty of times.

  "About?"

  He gave a tiny shrug. "You."

  "I'm flattered."

  Snow rolled his eyes. "Your dismissal yesterday. Things don't add up."

  "Yes, someone tried to kill me. Unless one of the bullies from my school was secretly a black sorcerer, things don't add up."

  "It's nobody you know," he said with a faint smile. "I hope not, at least."

  "Are you saying you know the guy?"

  "No. I don't. But there has been some… trouble in the past, and we're wondering if it's the same person. It shouldn't be."

  "Okay." Elstrin understood roughly three percent of whatever the hell Snow was talking about.

  He decided to leave it. If he got nosy he'd just be told that it wasn't his business again. God knew he would stab someone if Snow said 'no unnecessary questions' to him one more time. And he was too exhausted to pay attention anyway.

  He left around a third of his food untouched and tried to stand up. Couldn't really do it. Snow sipped his drink and watched his clumsy attempts.

  "What'll happen if I camp out here?" Elstrin wondered, finally succeeding in rising from his seat with the aid of a hand on the table. His calves shook most interestingly.

  "You'll look silly and wake up wishing very hard that you took a shower last night, and people might snigger at you for no reason until you realise that you have a picture or two drawn in permanent marker on your forehead." Snow shrugged. "I don't recommend it."

  "Okay." He firmly redirected the lone spark of strength left inside him back to the task of

  walking. He was almost at the door when he realised Snow was still sitting at the table, cradling his steaming mug, waves of thought practically ringing off him. He didn't look back when Elstrin exited the cafeteria, but then again… they were all tired.

  There was a pair of figures standing on the front porch of the first apartment, and faint voices that were almost muffled by the night. Elstrin squinted. From the dim light he could see Vel's red hair, and the person next to him wasn't in uniform. He was pretty sure it was Gabriel. It seemed like a casual conversation, so Elstrin left them alone. He trooped up to his own apartment and stared at the stairs, crestfallen. He put his hand on the banister and walked. Counted the steps. Sixty-six of them, twenty-two between each floor, eleven on each landing. He didn't visit his room first—it was too far away. He went and took a shower before he could pass out. Halfway through it, he gritted his teeth and turned the hot water off. The shock of cold made him yelp and tense up until his jaw ached, but it woke him up surprisingly well. He dumped his dirty uniform into the laundry basket, held his dog tag and key card in one hand, cupped his other hand over his nether regions, and walked gingerly down the corridor. He kept expecting his toes to turn blue and the water dripping from his hair to ice up, he was that cold. He didn't bother trying to insert the card with his shaking fingers; just knocked wearily on the door.

  "Hi," he told a shocked Kana. "Remind me never to get Snow to heal me again. He takes things seriously. And. Can we exchange that blowjob for another massage? I think I need it."

  Chapter 13

  Heavy, low clouds swooped over HQ right before the weekend, creeping through the snow-

  capped mountains to silently block out the baking-hot sun. It was the sound of rain that woke Elstrin up on Saturday morning. That and the weird muffled thumping, sliding noises coming from the other side of the door.

  Cursing the disturbances and cursing his limbs for being so weak and cursing Snow for making

  him spar until they were so weak, he sat up and stumbled off his bed. Kana was gone, blankets piled messily on the floor. What the fuck kind of person was he? It was seven in the goddamn morning, on a weekend. Scowling, Elstrin shuffled to the door and yanked it open, intending to tell whoever it was outside to keep the racket down.

  Two people toppled through into the room. There was a flurry of swearing, a scramble of activity, and Elstrin just stood and watched until Kana managed to untangle himself and stand, hair messy, shirt open, a couple of new bruises on his neck. He opene
d his mouth and Elstrin muttered, "Your only holiday in the whole week and you waste it by—what exactly were you doing?"

  "Nothing," the cadet on the floor said quickly. He zipped his pants hastily, grabbed his shirt from where it lay by the doorframe and promptly exited the room. Elstrin decided that he was really too tired to deal with anything, closed the door quietly and collapsed back onto his bed.

  "Sorry, man," Kana said in the semi-darkness, laughing a little. "You sleep like a rock and I just thought you wouldn't hear—"

  "In case you haven't noticed, Snow has been forcing me to train an extra hour every day and I need my rest so please shut up or leave," Elstrin mumbled into his pillow. "Or give me a massage."

  "Dude. I've given you five in two weeks—"

  "Spare the fucking statistics," he grunted, mostly asleep now.

  "Aw." Kana snickered again and abruptly Elstrin's bed dipped, a warm weight settling on either side of his hips. "You normally this trusting with people, or is it just me?"

  Elstrin didn't bother to reply. He relaxed even further and contented to drifting just on the edge of consciousness, unable to really sleep with the distraction of Kana's hands. He'd only been able to do so on previous nights because he'd been so tired. Now he was actually paying attention instead of blacking out halfway through it. Felt nice. He listened to the soft patter of rain.

  "I mean," Kana went on, rubbing small circles on his shoulders, "here I am, this weird kid from

  the slums, pretty beaten up, late arrival, good fighter, tells you about ghost anchors, stalks you in the showers—no, wait, stalks you before telling you—and you let me give you massages every night?"

  "Mm-hm."

  "Aren't you scared I'll do something? Anything?"

  "I'll report you."

  "Yeah, after it happens."

  "Nah."

  "How come?"

  "Dude," Elstrin mimicked, raising his head a little from the pillow, "you were making out with

  some random stranger two seconds ago. You and Gabriel did something on Wednesday night and no, I still don't want to know. I think you're in no hurry to relieve any kind of tension. And I think you prefer it if people actually reciprocate."

  "Hm. True. Are you just saying I'm a nice person?"

  "That too."

  "Aw. Thank you." His hands stilled briefly. "Hey. Do you like the rain?"

  "Huh?"

  "Take a walk with me. Morning rain coaxes spirits out. Maybe I can show you."

  "Really?" Elstrin turned over and sat up, considering it. It was seriously early, but he could always sleep some more later. And he did like rain—considering how clean the air was up here, it would probably be a refreshing way to wake up. "Okay. Give me a minute."

  He got dressed and visited the bathroom then went downstairs with Kana. Cool, moist air billowed up in slow waves, carrying the heavy scent of fresh ozone. Elstrin breathed in deeply, feeling like he was purging his lungs of all the pollution he'd inhaled in the city. They stopped by the cafeteria for a quick breakfast, then paced out onto the empty jogging track, not really minding how they were slowly getting soaked. The rain wasn't cold, wasn't strong, and fell with quiet steadiness. Elstrin felt calmness settle over him.

  They walked the long way around the field without speaking, circling the training equipment, heading vaguely towards the outer hall. Kana stopped about fifty metres from it and went to the nearest tree, which looked no different to those next to it. "Here," he said, touching the wet bark.

  "Uh… what's here?" Elstrin asked.

  "You don't even feel it?" Kana took Elstrin's wrist and guided his hand up to the same spot. The

  tree felt rough, damp, exactly normal. Kana sighed. "It's okay. Not many people see them in the rain. Maybe I should ask Vel. He seems to know more about spirits."

  "Or you could just tell me. You said you would."

  "Yeah." He leaned against the trunk and gazed at the field. "I don't know why I can sense them better than you. I guess it's like how some people just get the hang of playing music when they're just kids. Right here, there's… something a bit like an afterimage, only I'm not physically seeing it with my eyes. I'm just getting the feeling that around this tree, there are tiny traces of a dead person's soul."

  Elstrin discreetly compared the trees again. Still nothing out of the ordinary. "Is that what spirits are? Souls?"

  "Parts of a soul, yeah, that's the most widely accepted definition. Never the whole thing—that's something else. Think of each soul as a huge tangled bundle of wires, each wire consisting of some aspects of the person. And when he dies, the bundle loosens and floats off to wherever. And sometimes a few wires snag on things, or get pulled back, or—in your case—get dragged away against their will. That's what forms a spirit. Now, the leftover bit of soul is essentially lost. In most cases it's too weak to do anything. It finds an upright object to cling to and it just stays there, waiting for whatever's holding it to let go. This one's really quiet. It feels almost content. Weird."

  "What about those things that beat you up? They don't sound very weak."

  "One-o-clocks? They… they've been left alone for too long. There are a million things that time can do to lost souls. Nobody really knows how one-o-clocks are formed—maybe they were once angry people seeking revenge and after years and years they'd just forgotten everything else. And nobody knows why they come out at one o'clock, or why most spirits show themselves at dawn."

  Kana played absently with the hem of his shirt. "There's an old myth that says it's the moment death and time run parallel, when old things end and new things begin; and the stuff stuck in between just get yanked up along with everything else. Some spirits are stronger than others, is all."

  "And the strong ones can… interfere with things?" Elstrin asked, thinking back to his stay in the infirmary and how the dismissal had went. "Aren't they just little strings of soul? They don't even have bodies."

  "No. But every spirit is a slightly-open door to death. There's the main mass of the soul waiting on the other side, and there's the little part that's still stuck here. And if the spirit has enough willpower, or just power, or someone helps it, it can reach through that door and hook back more strands, bit by bit, until eventually you get this huge scary shadowy thing wreaking havoc wherever it goes. It doesn't need a body by then to do what it wants."

  "Wow. So technically a ghost can just—pull itself back into life?"

  "It's very, very difficult, mind. There have been a few cases in the past—rumours, at best—of really strong spirits whose souls were almost completely intact. But it's almost impossible without outside help, and true resurrection can never happen anyway. When a guy dies, he's supposed to just die. Death takes a part of him away no matter what. No matter how much you reel back in, there'll still be a bit missing. Maybe a crazily strong sorcerer could resurrect people briefly, but beyond that—no."

  "How do you know all this?" Elstrin said, dumbfounded.

  "And I know more," Kana said with a shrug. "But I said I'd only tell you the stuff that won't put me in jail for sharing, and that was all. You learn all sorts of things in Lupalia."

  "Huh. Thanks, I guess. Oh," Elstrin remembered, "when I went to Mernot, we met a dragon on the way down, a young one. I mentioned Lupalia and it scrammed. Just ran away. Then we saw it again when we were returning, and it—it actually asked me. In my head. It wanted to know where Lupalia was. Why's that?"

  "Really? Cool. Can't help you there, though. Dragons are almost as big of a mystery as spirits,

  especially those white ones up in the mountains. It's said their minds are all connected on some

  level—like a beehive, you know. Even different species. Their eggs are sometimes traded in Lupalia,

  so maybe it just assumed things. It's a really illegal business. Even I didn't want to get too nosy." He

  grinned.

  The rain had gotten heavier during their chat. It wasn't so bad under the tree's cover, but it was starting
to get difficult to see the barracks. "Should we head back?" Elstrin muttered, squinting into the mist. "Looks like it's going to pour soon."

  "This is the cleanest rain I've stood under for a long time. I'll stay. Is it like this in the city?"

  "No way," Elstrin snorted. "The summer rains are just sticky and the winter rains are freezing slush. This is much nicer. Proper. You've really never lived there? I thought the government gave loans to immigrants so you could settle in."

  "Yeah, but my family had no way of paying them back. The slums aren't that bad once you get used to it. Mernot is way safer anyway."

 

‹ Prev