Eclipse Core (School of Swords and Serpents Book 2)

by Gage Lee

  But I wasn’t a murderer. I held my temper in check, braced myself for a confrontation, and walked over to the group with a fake smile plastered across my face.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Me, finally,” Kyle said with a laugh. “You’re going to have to show me what you did to me. It really knocked me for a loop.”

  “It wasn’t all that impressive,” I said, doing my best to downplay what had happened. “I redirected your attack with my serpent. You had expected to discharge your technique into my face. When that didn’t happen, you must’ve lost control of it and all the jinsei used to activate it. That kind of shock can take down even a trained fighter.”

  “Ha,” Kyle said. He scratched the side of his chin, tilted his head, and considered what I’d said. “I guess that makes sense. I’ve never thought about it like that, but I really did put everything into that punch.”

  “And that is why I asked you to only fight at half strength,” Professor Song said wryly as he sauntered over to us. “Had you been more restrained, Jace would not have had to respond so harshly, and you would not have been injured.”

  “I really am sorry,” I said to both my professor and fellow student. “It wasn’t my intent to hurt anyone.”

  “I’m fine,” Kyle said. “It didn’t even leave a bruise, just made me want to stay in bed all day yesterday.”

  “It took your core some time to replenish the jinsei you wasted on that technique,” the professor said. “It could’ve been much worse. You were lucky. Next time, you may not be.”

  With that, Professor Song bowed to us and took his place at the head of the class.

  “Good morning, students,” he called. “Line up. Ten wide, five deep. Let’s hustle. We have a lot to discuss today.”

  I ended up sandwiched between Clem and Abi, with Eric in the row ahead of us. I’d have preferred to be at the back of the group, where I wouldn’t be surrounded by other students who could irritate my Eclipse nature, but my friends had other ideas, and we ended up in the middle of the pack. I took a deep, cleansing breath, purified my aura, and sternly reminded the dark urge to not eat anyone.

  “While your serpents, core, and aura are all separate,” Professor Song continued, “the true sacred artist uses all three of these tools in unison. Every path will of course have a focus on one area or another, but it is only the fusion of all that will allow you to realize your potential.”

  The professor demonstrated what he meant in a flurry of motion. With a single deep breath he inhaled jinsei loaded with wood aspects from the walls, resilience from the floor, and even light from the globes that illuminated the dojo. I was surprised by how much he’d been able to gather from the air he breathed. I could only glean that many aspects by using my Eclipse core to tear them out of my surroundings. That caused a lot of damage. If I could learn how to do it the way Professor Song had, it would be much, much easier to hide my nature.

  Our professor filled his aura with the aspects he’d harvested. Wood strengthened it like natural armor. He pushed the resilience aspects into his serpents, which coiled around him like a living wall. A split second later, the light aspects combined with Professor Song’s unique aspect, and his fusion blade burst to life. He twirled the slender, elegant weapon over his head before he brought it down with its tip an inch away from the front rank of students, who gasped in surprise.

  “This is the heart of martial arts.” Professor Song banished his fusion blade and serpents as quickly as he’d summoned them. “When you’re truly in tune with yourself and understand your own abilities, the three fragments of your Empyreal essence will work together as one.”

  A skinny guy with thick glasses and a tangled mop of black hair raised his hand. His arms were so scrawny that his robe fell down all the way to the shoulder, and I wondered if he was getting his fair share of the food in the dining hall.

  “Yes, Mr. Lynn,” the professor said. “What is your question?”

  “How do we know which martial arts path to pursue?” the skinny guy asked. “I know the basics, but I’m not sure what comes next.”

  Professor Song raised one finger in front of his face and closed his eyes to consider the question.

  “Your path is your own,” he said. “It is not like your clan, or even your natural affinities for reading, writing, or arithmetic. One of the purposes of this class is to explore your individual path, and in that way find the proper trail for your feet to follow. When you are on the correct course, you will know it. Your core and the world will be in tune, and you will be at peace.”

  While most of the students in the dojo seemed confused by Professor Song’s words, I understood what he meant. I’d learned the Borrowed Core technique of the Pauper’s Dagger path the year before, and that had given me the ability to forge links between my core and the core of smaller creatures. I’d mostly focused on rats, because there were so many of them in the School and it wouldn’t attract much attention if they acted a bit strangely. At first, I’d only been able to bond my core to a handful of rats. As I pushed my abilities to their limits, I’d expanded the number of rats I could control again and again.

  And then, during my battle with the harbinger of the Locust Court, I’d pushed the Borrowed Core beyond even that limit, to unlock the Thief of Souls technique of my path. That had allowed me to rip the core out of the spirit we’d faced and forge the Eclipse core inside me.

  That had granted me abilities I didn’t fully understand yet. My serpents could rip the aspects and jinsei out of anything they touched. It was an incredibly powerful ability, and it was the secret to my success in the Five Dragons Challenge. No foe could stand against me if the slightest touch from my serpents was enough to sap their strength or rob their techniques of the jinsei they needed to function.

  That power had also caused the disaster in Singapore...

  Before I could fall down that rabbit hole of angst, Professor Song’s lecture abruptly changed direction and demanded my attention.

  “... like for you to do is pair up and practice your attacking and defending with a martial technique,” the wiry professor said. “Go slow, half strength only. The goal here is for you and your partner to explore your techniques and gain a deeper understanding of them. If you’re observant, and you push yourselves in the right ways, the next step along your path will reveal itself to you.”

  “This would be a lot easier if he would just tell us what to learn next,” Clem grumped. “All this mushy-feely stuff isn’t really teaching if you ask me. Wanna partner up?”

  “Of course,” I said gratefully. Clem was methodical and careful, which was why she was annoyed at Song’s intuitive approach to combat mastery. She’d much rather be given instructions to follow or books to study. That was also why she was a perfect partner for me. Clem wouldn’t push the limits; she’d do exactly as we’d been told.

  No surprises meant no accidents.

  “You may begin when you have a partner,” Professor Song said.

  Pairs of students fanned out across the slightly springy dojo floor, giving all of us plenty of space to try out our techniques. I noticed Clem and I were given a wide berth, and I wondered whether that was because her mother was an adjudicator or because I’d just about murdered Kyle in front of all of them.

  Probably a little of both.

  “Do you mind if I go first?” Clem asked with a mischievous grin. “I’ve been working on an idea, and so far it hasn’t worked out. Maybe you can see where I’m messing up.”

  “I’ll be happy to try,” I said, and dropped back into a defensive stance. I’d ditched all the beginner forms I’d relied on last year. The Gliding Shadow and Darting Minnow stances were useless against trained fighters, and the Tantrum Flail and Stunning Slap strikes weren’t powerful enough to do much more than sting. I’d adopted a variant of the street-fighting style somewhere between boxing and karate. Its basic defensive stance was the cross-armed guard. It provided excellent head defense against any lucky sho
ts from Clem, and it was an awkward stance to launch a counterattack from, so I couldn’t inadvertently punch a hole through her chest.

  Perfect.

  “Look at Mr. Prizefighter over here,” Clem said. Her stance was loose and sloppy, one foot behind the other, hands dangling at her sides. I wasn’t sure if it was a ruse, because the Thunder’s Children were chaotic fighters who didn’t adhere to many traditional fighting styles. “Okay, this is supposed to be a defensive sweep. Something to push my opponent back and give me space to set up for a counterstrike.”

  “Let’s see it,” I said, and braced myself for the attack.

  Clem pivoted on her rear foot. She flung her lead leg up and out to its full extension. A flare of jinsei burst from her core and roiled down her leg like an avalanche. The sacred energy flowed into her heel well before the sole of her foot was pointed in my direction. The momentum of her sweeping horizontal kick fanned the jinsei away from her leg in a wide arc tinged with wind aspect.

  My Eclipse nature instinctively understood the technique’s intent. The wind aspects would form a swathe of turbulence to push her opponent back or even knock them down if their core was significantly weaker than hers.

  Fortunately, Clem and I both had initiate cores. Her attack was no real threat to me, and my Eclipse nature saw it more as a curiosity than a threat to be dealt with.

  As Clem moved through her kick at low-speed, the scything curve of wind aspects rushed away from her. It reached me with enough force to push me back half a step. If I’d been unprepared or in the midst of an attack of my own, that might have been enough to pitch me off balance and set me up for a strong counter.

  “Nice!” I congratulated Clem. “I think you’ve almost got it.”

  “Maybe,” she said, her brow furrowed. “It takes so much of my jinsei to harness the wind aspects that I could only do it once, maybe twice in a fight.”

  “If you do it at the right time, you’d only have to do it once,” I said. “Catch your foe in the middle of a roundhouse kick or a leaping kick, and you’ll knock them flat. Then it’s ground and pound time.”

  She grinned. “Unless I’m too slow and they knock me down first.”

  “That’s what practice is for,” I responded. “Do it again.”

  We spent the entire class working through Clem’s new technique. By the time Professor Song dismissed us, Clem was sweaty and almost wiped out.

  “Nice workout, Professor Warin.” Without warning, she threw a hug around my neck. “I’m going to grab a shower before breakfast. Thank you so much for helping me with that technique.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said through the shock. For a moment, I’d thought Clem had something else in mind when she’d moved in to hug me.

  “Clem and Jace, sitting in a tree,” Eric said in a singsong voice, “K-I-S—”

  “Better watch out,” Abi said with a belly laugh that warmed my heart even though it was at my expense. “You keep that up, Jace will knock you out.”

  “He’ll try,” Eric said, his grin spreading so wide across his face I thought the top of his head might flop off.

  “You’re just jealous,” I said. “Because no one likes you.”

  We roughhoused out of the dojo, and for the first time since I’d returned to school I felt really good about myself and my core. I’d held the Eclipse Warrior in check through the whole class, even when it had urged me to eat Clem’s wind aspects and send them back to her with a roundhouse punch that would have knocked her flat.

  The rest of the day went just as well. At the end of our last class for the day, Abi took off for Portal Defense Force duty while Clem, Eric, and I all agreed to grab dinner after we dumped our books in our rooms.

  It was a great dinner. We laughed and teased each other, ate too much, and then headed back to my cottage to drink coffee and watch the sun set.

  By some amazing stroke of luck, I managed to string almost a whole month of those magical days and nights together without my Eclipse nature trying to kill anyone. The urge was still there when I meditated, but I was learning to mitigate surprises and anxiety during the school day.

  The extra time I started spending with Rachel also went a long way toward pushing back the tension that could trigger the urge. She was amazing and had so much to teach me about what life was like for Empyreals who weren’t rich or connected. It was an eye-opening experience, and I loved every second of it. I wanted to introduce her to my friends, but Rachel always had some excuse about why she couldn’t eat with us or hang out after school. She was very, very busy.

  I started to believe that the year would be perfect.

  And then it all began to unravel.

  The Spy

  HAGAR AMBUSHED ME IN the hall outside my room on the first Friday in October.

  “Get the door open,” she said, her voice tight and urgent. “I don’t want us to be seen together.”

  “Thanks,” I said sarcastically and opened the door for her. “And here I thought I was the popular one. You worried about your reputation?”

  Hagar rolled her eyes and slipped through the door. When I joined her on the forest path, she threw a half-hearted punch into my left shoulder.

  “It’s not about my reputation, it’s about our clan’s enemies,” she said.

  “That sounds melodramatic,” I said. “Come with me, I need to drop my stuff off.”

  “It’s best we leave from inside the cottage, anyway,” Hagar agreed. “I don’t want to leave the port stone outside where someone could stumble across it.”

  “No one’s going to stumble across anything in here,” I said. “These are my private quarters. The door’s locked.”

  “Because the Locust Court or heretics care about locks,” Hagar said, rolling her eyes.

  I didn’t have an answer for that, so I just shrugged and led her down the path, across the bridge, and into the cottage. I dropped my books on the coffee table, rolled my head on my neck, and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “What’s going on?”

  Hagar held up her index finger, fished out a thin crystal rod from her belt, and raised it over her head. A thin trickle of jinsei leaked from her core, ran up her spine, then went through her arm and into the crystal. The rod lit up with the pale green radiance, shifting slightly to blue, before it faded to white.

  “Good, we can talk without anyone hearing us,” Hagar said. “Today is your first mission.”

  Well, if I’d wanted any further confirmation from the elders that they’d accepted me, I guess this was it. There’d been a month of silence and Hagar hiding from me, and I’d been sure the elders had decided they didn’t need me.

  Guess I was wrong.

  “This is happening really fast,” I said. “I was supposed to meet Clem and those guys for dinner—”

  “Sorry to disrupt your plans, but this can’t wait. You’ll be back before morning, but I’m afraid dinner is off the books,” Hagar said. “Control can have something sent over when you get back.”

  “Back from where?” I asked.

  With a flick of her wrist, Hagar made the crystal rod disappear, and a thin piece of pale white stone appeared in her palm. She crouched down and placed the disk on top of my books, twisting it this way and that until she was satisfied with its position. Then she stood up, snapped her fingers, and pointed at the stone.

  A beam of light speared from the stone into the air over the coffee table. It unfolded in beams of light until a three-dimensional wireframe model of an office building hovered in front of me.

  “This is a storage facility,” Hagar explained. “We have reason to believe it is being used by a cell of anti-Flame heretics.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “And you want me to do what?”

  “Break in, use an eye-snapper to take some pictures, and then get out,” Hagar said as if all of that was the simplest thing in the world.

  “By myself?” I asked. “I don’t have any experience breaking and entering. And whatever an eye-sna
pper is, it sounds painful. Maybe you should find someone with more, I don’t know, thievery skills to do this.”

  “Jace,” Hagar said with a faint smile on her lips. She reached out, took my hands, and squeezed them. “You’ll be fine. And let’s not pretend that you don’t have experience taking things that don’t belong to you.”

  That jab stung a little harder than I would’ve liked after what I’d gone through last year. She was right, though. I’d stolen things, sneaked all over the campus, and even fought a messenger from the Locust Court. I probably could get into a storage facility without too much trouble.

  “Anything in particular I’m looking for?” I asked.

  “I’m your handler on this one,” she said. “I’ll be right there with you in the eye-snapper. Just look for papers, computers, anything with information. When you find it, look at as much as you can without making a mess.”

  “All right.” I squared my shoulders and stiffened my spine. I’d volunteered to be a hero. It was time to get to work. “Let’s get on with it.”

  “Perfect,” Hagar purred. She pulled two more small items from her belt, and I wondered how she’d managed to hide so many things inside the thin strip of cloth around her waist.

  The first item she retrieved was a small black half sphere. She handed it to me, and I found it smooth and cool to the touch, though the flat side was a bit sticky.

  “That’s the eye-snapper,” she said. “Press it to your right temple, just below your hairline. I need to calibrate this before you can leave.”

  A faint rush of disorientation staggered me when I adhered the device to the side of my head. My vision blurred, doubled, then righted itself. The first faint throbbing pain of a headache sprouted behind my left eye. The pain was tolerable, though if it got any worse I’d be in trouble.

  “One moment,” Hagar said.

  She closed her eyes, and when she opened them they were covered with a faint oily sheen. She held very still, as if she didn’t trust herself not to fall over if she moved.