by Gage Lee
My temper flared. Not at Biz; she was just a kid who didn’t know any better. But Reesa had set those constellations to a place that was very much not Anaheim.
I whirled to face the Tribunal, gold ghostlight dripping from the corners of my eyes. I wanted to punch something, hurt someone, for sending my sister far from home.
“Why?” I snapped.
“Easy.” Baylo raised her hands and approached me cautiously. “This is what your sister wanted.”
“She’s—” I started, then choked the words off. I’d been about to say she was a kid, my baby sister. I’d almost said she needed my protection.
But none of that was really true, not anymore. With the poison out of her system, Biz could take care of herself as well as anyone I knew. With the ghostlight inside her, she wasn’t sick anymore, either. For the first time in way too long, Biz was truly happy. It wasn’t my job to stand in the way of that. That’s what Cass had been trying to tell me, what I should’ve learned a long time ago.
“She tricked me,” I said with a sigh. “If I’d known we weren’t going to see each other again, I would’ve said...something.”
“She was the only one playing tricks? I don’t think so.” Baylo rested a hand on my shoulder and shook her head. “You can follow her. We’ve still got a couple of minutes before the gate collapses. I’m sure they’d be happy to have an engineer helping them round up aid for the splinter worlds. You should go.”
I really wanted to punch Baylo for this.
“I can’t,” I said. “How long have you known?”
“About as long as you have,” the warrior said with a chuckle. “Only the shadowbound can wield the Blade. It would’ve killed anyone else. And the shadowbound can’t travel between splinter worlds.”
That was the price I’d paid to save the Academy and my sister. Taking the title had shackled me to the city Incaguloth. Until it was restored to its rightful place in the many worlds, I wasn’t going anywhere.
And, honestly, that was all right. Sure, I was sick of ham and turkey sandwiches, but that was a problem I could fix. Without scrats and the Fell Lord to bother us, I didn’t think it would take long to fix this place up. I had a sneaking suspicion there were more shadow vaults with more students and teachers in them. It was a big place, and with the right people and a lot of work, we could do anything.
“Close the portal before bugs or more of those blue things get in here,” Ylor said. “We have much to discuss. Starting with—”
“Your chapel,” I said. “I know.”
Everyone laughed at that, and it was almost enough to make me ignore the cold fingers of a premonition brushing across my neck.
That reminded me there was another question I needed to ask Ylor, Reesa, and Baylo before we rejoined the rest of the students downstairs.
“Anyone else have anything they’d like to confess?” I asked the Tribunal’s members. I’d been suspicious about something for a while now, and it was time to put my theory to the test.
The three of them gave me uncomfortable looks, but none of them said a word.
“I’ve been wondering for a while why the three of you seemed willing to follow a couple of kids from Anaheim,” I said. “Who wants to tell me what a Tribunal construct is?”
“Ah,” Ylor said quietly. “That.”
“The Academy required custodians who could survive for an indefinite period of time without support,” Reesa explained. “To that end, it created the Tribunal. Us, more specifically.”
“You’re not real?” I’d suspected something like this from the way the Tribunal mostly avoided physical contact, and how they basically refused to help out with even minor chores. If their bodies weren’t real, maybe it took a toll on the Academy to have them perform physical actions.
“As I explained to you and your sister when you first arrived,” Ylor said sternly, “we are every bit as real as you are. Our forms may require ghostlight to fully manifest, but our minds, our souls, are the same as yours. With, unfortunately, a few limitations.”
“These fools were worried you’d take advantage of them if you knew the truth,” Baylo said with a snort. “But we’ve all seen how you handled yourself. What Ylor can’t bring himself to tell you is that the Tribunal was created to assist those who came to restore the Academy. We’re not in charge here, kid.
“You are.”
Baylo’s words weighed on my thoughts. It seemed like only yesterday I was hanging out at the park with my dying sister. Now Biz was off on an adventure of her own, and I was responsible for the entire Academy and all its students.
I’d come a long way and accomplished so much.
But something told me there were more adventures, more tasks, and more treasure ahead of me.
And a lot more danger.
“Then I guess it’s time for me to take the reins,” I said with a grin. “Let’s get to work.”
Keep up with Biz and Kai!
THE GHOSTLIGHT ACADEMY’S story is just getting started. To get a free bonus story and continue the adventure, visit www.gagelee.com/gla1bonus.
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Talk to you soon!
—Gage Lee
March 2020
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Looking for more from Gage Lee, and need it right this minute? Check out: Hollow Core. Or keep reading to take a sneak peek.
Jace Warin never wanted anything more than to attend the School of Swords and Serpents to escape the labor camps and restore his family's stained honor.
BUT THE DETERMINED young martial artist soon discovers the school he's always dreamed about is teeming with secret plots and sinister designs. To survive, he will have to master long-lost jinsei techniques, repair his wounded soul, and face down a most unexpected enemy: The Academy's ruthless headmaster and cunning professors.
Hollow is the first book in the School of Swords and Serpents series, a tale of wuxia adventure, cultivation mastery, and lurking threats.
“Wow, this book is crazy-good. If the Harry Potter series were somehow violently smashed together with the characters from Mortal Kombat, you might have something that comes close to the School of Swords and Serpents.” —James A. Hunter, Bestselling Author of Rogue Dungeon, Bibliomancer, and the LitRPG epic Viridian Gate Online
Chapter One: The Champion
THE APPEARANCE OF A full-fledged member of the Resplendent Suns in the arena had whipped the crowd into a frenzy. He was larger than life, a mountain of a young man with channels so filled with jinsei that his blond hair practically stood on end from the energy coursing through his flesh and bones. His white gi shone like a beacon against the ancient polished wood beneath his calloused feet, and the bold scrivenings that ran down each of his sleeves blazed with so much sacred light they seemed to have been poured from molten gold.
I’d never seen an Empyreal before, but now I understood why the defender clans thought t
hey were better than the rest of us.
They were.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t defeat one of them. And if I ever wanted to earn a place at the famed School of Swords and Serpents and heal my wounded core, I’d have to beat the man at the heart of the arena.
The trip from the undercity had taken far longer than I’d anticipated, and by the time my mother and I had reached the arena, it was already packed to the rafters with rowdy spectators who’d overflowed their seats and formed a human traffic jam in the aisles between the bleachers. While it wasn’t the most honorable thing to do, I forced my way through the crowd and ignored their angry shouts and curses. These strangers could be angry at me, I didn’t care. My only chance for a brighter future was to reach the registrar before the challenger window closed.
For a fatherless son from a disgraced family, that chance was too valuable for me to miss.
“Watch where you’re going!” A fat man shouted at me as I brushed against his back on my way down the steps toward the arena’s floor.
“I am!” Before he could shout another insult, I’d already pushed three rows deeper into the crowd.
“You’re going to hurt someone.” My mother didn’t shout, but her sharp, crisp voice reached my ears with ease, as if we weren’t surrounded by thousands of howling fight fans. “Slow down. Move through the crowd, not against it.”
“There isn’t time!” I’d begged my mother to please, please let me register early for the Five Dragons Challenge. Unfortunately, she’d refused to even consider letting me take the challenge until after she’d drilled me relentlessly on the defensive techniques that we’d already worked on for most of my life. We’d spent years preparing for this day, but when the time came to leave for the arena she still wasn’t satisfied with my progress. I’d had to threaten to leave without her before she’d agreed to come with me, and now we were almost out of time. “There’s only twenty minutes left.”
I clutched the coinpurse under my shirt tight to my chest and pushed my way another row closer to the arena. We were still ten rows above the arena’s floor when another roar swept through the crowd. The challenger, a guy my age with a face prematurely lined from too much time spent in a labor camp and a whipcord thin body to match, had made his way into the ring. He was a good foot shorter than the Resplendent Sun and gave up at least thirty pounds to his opponent. Despite their size difference, the challenger exuded an aura of street-hardened confidence that I’d seen often in the undercity.
The Empyreals kept the best food for their warriors. As the defenders of the mortal realms it was imperative that they be well-fed and rested to face the incursions of hungry spirits who tried to devour the Empyrean Flame that fueled the word. A lifetime of extra calories and better medical care made the clan members bigger than the rest of us, stronger, and gave them the time they needed to practice and perfect techniques that we laborers could only dream about.
I knew why the laborer was confident, because he and I saw the world through the same eyes.
Despite all the advantages the Resplendent Sun possessed, the challenger had spent most of his life fighting for anything he wanted or needed. The challenger didn’t see an oversized mountain of a man in front of him, he saw a soft Empyreal who’d never had to knock out a neighbor for a scrap of maggoty bread to keep himself from starving. The clans fought because it was their duty and their honor. We fought because our lives demanded it.
“Honored guests!” The announcer unleashed the words in a jinsei-boosted shout that reached every ear in the arena. He must have put something other than simple volume behind the greeting, as a wave of calm rippled through the crowd. Rowdy voices lowered, and every eye focused on the black-robed speaker who stood between the two combatants. I recognized the man as Ben Oolou, a local politician who hailed from the Disciples of the Jade Flame clan. “Welcome to the Five Dragons Challenge! Our first contender is Hau-Lin Gray, who hails from the harvest camps outside our fair city.”
Mr. Oolou paused, and the hometown crowd offered their contender a few feeble shouts of encouragement. Sadly, most of the spectators were from the overcity, and they did not really want any of the laborers to succeed. Every one of us who escaped the labor camps thanks to the challenge would damage the profits of those who watched us fight, and to them even a miniscule loss was too much to bear.
“And here we have the School’s champion, Hank Eli, straight from the overcity of the Resplendent Suns. Give it up for Hank, who’ll face all of our contenders today.”
The Empyreal initiate thrust both fists toward the sky, and the scrivenings on his sleeves crackled like living flames. He turned in a slow circle, letting every member of the crowd soak in his glory, and then stopped, facing his opponent. Hank’s aura flared up from his shoulders like fiery wings, and I marveled at the intensity of the jinsei that surrounded him.
Hank bowed low to his opponent, eyes never leaving Hau-Lin. It would be dishonorable for the challenger to strike before the bout had officially begun, but the champion wasn’t taking any chances. Those of us who had no clans were already considered without honor, and a desperate man might hope to strike the champion down and succeed at the challenge even at the risk of his reputation.
Hau-Lin, it turned out, was an honorable man. The challenger returned the champion’s bow so deeply his forehead almost bumped the arena’s wooden planks. He maintained this posture of deference for long seconds after the Resplendent Sun had straightened, then rose into a wide-legged stance with his arms raised like a boxer. It was an unorthodox combination of a traditional grounding stance to gather jinsei from the earth and a street fighter’s defense.
“His training is poor,” my mother whispered. She took me by the elbow and guided me through the crowd to the next row. Where I’d stomped and shoved, she flowed through the crowd like water. “And his stance will not gather the power he needs to withstand the fury of the Resplendent Sun. Do not make the same mistake when your time comes.”
Members of the clans had great experience accumulating and cultivating the jinsei, or life energy, that surrounded them. As children, they were trained to focus this mystical energy in their cores and used it to fuel their powerful techniques.
Those of us outside the clans never received such advanced training. A few of us could still bend jinsei to our will for small things, and a handful of clanless prize fighters had even mastered some basic jinsei art techniques to give themselves an edge over their less-skilled opponents.
But jinsei was tricky, and a master could turn a student’s own energy against him. If Hau-Lin relied on his life energy to defeat the Resplendent Sun, it would be like trying to defend himself from a forest fire with a matchstick.
Personally, I had never learned a true stance, my fighting style was intended for children, and the only technique I’d mastered was a foundation breathing technique. I was so overmatched by the champion that he could kill me without breaking a sweat.
Fortunately, I’d planned ahead. I still had a chance.
The five dragons painted on the floor of the arena began to glow with vibrant colors. By the time my mother and I were five rows from the raised platform, the red and green dragons were already filled with brilliant light. When all five of the dragons were lit, the contender would be in for the fight of his life.
Both combatants watched the dragons and focused their breathing into smooth and even cycles. Every breath they drew into their lungs brought jinsei with it, and every exhalation expelled impurities from their cores and strengthened their bodies for the battle ahead. Even at this distance, the expansion and contraction of their auras was plain to me, as was the fact that the ghostly light that surrounded Hank was many times brighter and more expansive than Hau-Lin’s.
The crowd was thicker near the bottom of the rows of seats, and my mother and I had to force our way through ever-tightening knots of spectators who had no desire to give ground. My mother was a gentle woman, but I saw her hands jab into the sides of sev
eral people who wouldn’t let her pass. The blows, which seemed more like gentle taps than any punch I’d ever thrown, had just banished a yelping group of college kids when a gasp rippled through the crowd.
The last dragon had blazed to life, and the challenger and champion were surrounded by a circle of neon-bright spirits. The representations of the five sacred dragons who had formed the Empyreal clans were hungry for jinsei to be spilled, and they licked their chops with forked tongues as they prowled the edges of the fight.
In the undercity, the first man to strike is often the only man to strike. The challenger’s experience in street fights had taught him that lesson well.
With an explosive cry Hau-Lin thrust the jinsei from his core out into his legs. The burst of sacred energy pushed his muscles past their normal limits and hurled him toward the Resplendent Sun with astonishing speed and force. The instant the challenger landed in front of Hank, he squared his shoulders and unleashed a brutal uppercut.
Hau-Lin put his entire body and every shred of jinsei he could muster into that blow. Serpents of crimson light exploded from his aura and reinforced his arm and fist with strands of sacred energy that sparked and twitched with supernatural life. It was a powerful, beautiful attack, and I couldn’t imagine how the champion could survive its impact.
The Resplendent Sun didn’t try to block the attack or deflect its force. One moment his chin was a hairsbreadth from shattering violence, and the next he twisted his body away from the attack in a blur. The devastating strike that could so easily have shattered his skull instead passed by his chin with inches to spare.
Hau-Lin could only watch in horror as his all-or-nothing assault whiffed through his opponent’s aura with a crackling hiss, like a splash of water dropped into a red-hot iron skillet. The serpents of light around his arm and fist faded to pale ribbons as the jinsei he’d expended in the attack dissipated into the air. The challenger was twisted so far out of position, I knew there was no way he could erect a defense in time to stop Hank’s counterattack.