by Gage Lee
DEACON BOLTED OUT OF class like someone had set his robes on fire. He charged past the other students and darted out the door before I’d even had a chance to stand up from my seat. He might not have been the smartest or strongest initiate, but he was in the running for the fastest.
“What’s got into him?” Clem asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m about to find out.” I took off after my fellow clanmate, hugging the classroom’s wall to get past the students who ambled down the central aisle at a snail’s pace. I burst through the classroom’s door just in time to catch sight of Deacon’s black robes flapping down the hall to my left.
“Deacon!” He had a good head start, but I wasn’t about to let him get away from me.
His only response to my call was to duck his head down low and pump his arms and legs for all he was worth. He was taller than me, and faster, but I wouldn’t give up. Deacon wasn’t just annoyed by my successes, he was terrified. I had to know why.
The problem with chasing someone through the halls of the School of Swords and Serpents is that the building’s layout isn’t constant. Deacon knew where he was running to, and the hallways changed ahead of him to accommodate the path to his destination.
The best I could do was concentrate on chasing after him, but as Deacon moved, the shifting architecture wasn’t sure where I needed to go. For a solid five minutes I kept my target in sight, but then he took a series of quick zigzag turns through a part of the academy I didn’t recognize.
Just like that, Deacon was gone.
“Deacon!” I shouted. “Come on. I just want to talk.”
I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer, but I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t disappointed. Someone had gotten to Deacon. Whether that someone was another member of the Shadow Phoenix clan, or someone else, I wanted to know what they’d told him. We were fellow initiates who should have been friends, but he was acting like I was out to get him killed.
I searched around for a bit longer, but we only had fifteen minutes between classes, and I didn’t want to be late for Scrivening Fundamentals. I needed all the help in that class I could get, and missing any of it wouldn’t help me.
Frustrated, I gave up the hunt and focused my attention on the scriptorium. Fortunately, it lay behind a unique doorway emblazoned with a fountain pen crossed over an inscriber. It didn’t take more than a couple of minutes to convince the School to take me where I needed to be, and I reached the classroom with minutes to spare.
Which turned out to be good luck, because Abi needed my help.
The Titan of Majestic Stone stood in a wide hall just beyond the scriptorium. A wall of Disciples of Jade Flame stood between us, their backs to me, their voices raised.
“No one likes a snitch.” A tall upperclassman with lank blond hair and broad, imposing shoulders towered over Abi and yelled down at him. “We’re here to teach you to mind your own business.”
Abi, to his credit, didn’t look like he was about to back down from the threat. He was big for his age, and the Titans were a clan renowned for their hardy nature and stubborn disposition. Despite all that, Abi didn’t have the strength or skill to face down five other initiates and their upperclassman ringleader without some help.
My friend shook his head as I ambled toward the brewing fight, but I ignored him with a good-natured smile.
“Is this a duel, or just an old-fashioned rumble anyone can jump in on?” I asked with a chipper tone. “Because if it’s a duel, you’re missing the witnesses from the Titans, aren’t you?”
The tallest Disciple turned to stare at me. He was a few years older than me, but his body hadn’t quite grown into his height, leaving him looking awkward and gangly. His eyes flashed with the color of thunderclouds, and his knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists.
“It’s none of your business, that’s what it is,” he said. “Now, run along, before I crack your skull.”
“That was a rude threat,” I responded. There were four jinsei booster serums hidden in my belt. That wasn’t enough to get me through a brawl against so many opponents, but it might be enough to put this jerk on his tail. The other Disciples were just initiates and wouldn’t stick around after I knocked their leader out of commission. “You’ve offended my honor, and I demand satisfaction. I hereby challenge you to a duel.”
I hooked my thumbs into my robe’s belt and carefully slipped one of the serums into my left hand. The booster sucker punch had worked well enough on Hank during the Five Dragons Challenge, and his core had been much more powerful than this dork’s. One punch, one knockout.
“A duel?” The upperclassman laughed. “You don’t have any witnesses to stand for you. And I wouldn’t waste my time accepting your challenge if you did. There’s no honor in dealing with Phoenixes.”
I crossed my hands in front of my waist as I walked toward the Disciples. All eyes were on me now, and I wiggled my eyebrows at Abi, hoping he’d get the message to move along before things got ugly. He was a good friend, though, and ignored my suggestion with a cocky grin.
“I guess it’s just a fight then,” I said.
The upperclassman raised his hands in a defensive posture. He’d had a solid two years of martial arts training at the academy and a foot of height and reach on me. What he didn’t have, though, was a fistful of jinsei serum and a bad attitude.
Before he could attack, I lunged forward, threw a basic streetfighter’s punch straight at his sternum, and prayed that the advantage of surprise would get the attack through the upperclassman’s defenses.
My opponent smirked at the clumsy strike and swept his left arm into the path of my attack. It was a well-executed block with impeccable timing, which left me no time to divert my punch.
So much for the advantage of surprise.
I leaned my weight into the blow and drove my fist forward with all the strength I could muster. I kept my feet flat on the floor, twisted my hips into the attack, and crashed my knuckles into my opponent’s forearm just below his wrist.
The serum exploded on impact. A flash of pure jinsei burst from between my fingers and clung to the aura around my fist like a set of mystical brass knuckles. The flare of power blasted through the upperclassman’s aura, drove his blocking arm into his chest, and rocked him back onto his heels. The jinsei channels in his arm shattered like glass straws, leaving the limb useless and weak. It would heal, but not before this fight was over.
Abi took advantage of the surprise attack to grab hold of a Disciple initiate by the collar and belt. The Titan hoisted his slender foe into the air, then flung him down the hall like a bag of dirty laundry. The Disciple flew through the air, landed with a meaty thud, then rolled to a boneless stop.
My hand ached, but the pain from my dislocated fingers was nothing compared to the agony etched into my opponent’s face. Before the upperclassman could recover, I followed through with a flurry of artless jabs and kicks to his torso. I had no jinsei to empower those attacks, but I was strong from years in the labor camps and pissed off from a lifetime of getting kicked around by stuck-up Empyreals.
My attacks might not have come from any fancy martial arts style, but they were powerful and came in a storm fueled by anger and frustration.
The Disciple who faced me gave ground as he weathered my attacks. His right arm was useless from the damage I’d inflicted, but he was handy with his left, and turned his body to the side to give me as narrow a target as possible. His breathing deepened and rumbled in his chest. He was gathering jinsei into his core to launch a counterattack.
If I didn’t come up with a new line of attack, the flow of the fight would turn against me. Hard.
I dropped into the Gliding Shadow stance, fell into my circular breathing technique, and reached out with my aura senses. I found rats hidden in the walls, their presence a warm comfort to me in my time of need. I quickly lashed connections to three of them.
Rather than filter the jinsei I purified from the surrounding air through their cores, I simply i
nhaled their animal energy. I pushed the power I’d gathered into the channels in my arms and braced myself for the onslaught.
My opponent lashed out with a storm of sweeping ax kicks and spinning backhands that forced me to back down the hall to keep my head on my shoulders. His attacks came in a dizzying flurry, and his unfamiliar style had caught me off guard.
I pivoted and dodged a series of knife-hand strikes but wasn’t fast enough to avoid a snap kick that slammed into my left arm. Stolen rat jinsei burst from my limb’s channels to blunt the worst of the attack, and sparks of spent energy popped away from my aura. I slapped a sloppy roundhouse kick away from my head with my left hand, only to realize too late it had been a feint.
The Disciple lunged forward and drove the knuckles of his clenched fist into my right bicep. A lance of jinsei burst from his hand and sliced through the channels beneath my skin. Sacred energy gushed out of the mystical wound, and my arm sagged against my side. I didn’t think I’d suffered any permanent damage, but I wouldn’t be using my right hand for anything for the next few minutes.
The upperclassman drew himself up to his full height and glared down at me. He’d expected me to cower before his superior strength and training, but I refused to give him what he wanted.
“That’s the best you’ve got?” I sneered.
A lifetime of street scraps had taught me that attitude and bravado were just as much weapons as clenched fists or knives. Rather than hold my damaged right arm in close to protect it, I left it at my side. I mimicked the same pose with my left arm, and just like that my appearance totally changed. I no longer looked like a kid with a useless arm.
I looked like I didn’t consider the upperclassman a threat worthy of any defense. My lowered arms were no longer a sign of weakness, but a measure of my contempt for my opponent.
My foe eyed me uncertainly. If he’d been smart, he would have finished the fight. His hesitation told me he didn’t have the guts to face down a target who’d stand up to him. He was a bully and didn’t know how to handle someone who wasn’t afraid of him.
Abi had done good work on the other initiates. He’d incapacitated two of the younger Disciples, and the rest of them had decided they’d see how my fight with their leader shook out before they got involved.
“Why don’t you run along now,” I said to the Disciples. “My friend and I need to get to class. I’ve wasted enough time with the likes of you.”
The upperclassman said nothing. His face had gone pale and red flecks of rage burned in furious constellations across his cheeks and forehead. His aura swarmed with anger aspects, thick and clotted like sour milk in a fresh cup of coffee. His eyes stayed locked on me when Abi passed him, as if he couldn’t believe what I was doing.
“Alrighty then,” I said with a wave of my hand at the upperclassman. “I’ll see you kids at dinner. Next time let’s make it an official duel. I could use the points.”
Abi and I turned away from our cowed opponents and headed for class.
“Nice work,” Abi whispered to me as we neared the scriptorium’s doors. “I thought Rafael was going to kill you.”
“Me, too,” I said. “But—”
A trio of jinsei throwing blades slammed into my back, bracketing my spine with two on the left and one on the right. The sacred energy weapons had barely pierced my skin before they began to evaporate, and the physical wounds they left behind weren’t serious. The real danger came from the spiritual attack they carried. The pulse of jinsei that flashed through the weapons was so intense it would have blasted my core to shreds.
If my core wasn’t hollow.
Instead of scouring my soul, the hostile jinsei poured through my deformed spirit and followed the path of least resistance into the cores of the rats still connected to me by the Borrowed Core technique. Three shrill voices shrieked into my head and then went silent as the spiritual energy meant to kill me instead demolished their cores and burst their bodies into clouds of scattered fur and scorched blood.
I was angry that my attacker had tried to seriously wound me, but I was even angrier that he had killed those helpless creatures. I uttered a silent vow to make him pay for what he’d done.
“Never turn your back on me,” the upperclassman snarled as he charged.
The worst of the attack hadn’t affected me, but the shock of the rats’ death had left me dazed and off-balance. I hadn’t even turned to face Rafael before the older Disciple snapped a vicious kick into my lower back.
My spine crackled like a string of firecrackers, and the impact drove me stumbling past Abi. I tasted blood in my mouth and wondered whether I’d bitten my tongue or ruptured something important inside me.
I’d worry about all that after the fight, if I was still alive.
I leaned into the stumble to get out of my enemy’s immediate attack range and let my head clear. There was no way to mount an offense with my ears ringing and my vision swimming.
A foot or fist swept through the air behind me with a loud whoosh. The attack had passed close enough it brushed my short hair. My foe’s attack was a relentless rush. He meant to destroy me before I could respond.
My breathing technique kicked in, and I snapped connections to three more rats in the blink of an eye. I didn’t want to hurt any more of the little guys and gals, but my back was against the wall. I couldn’t leave myself defenseless against any other tricks my opponent might have up his sleeve.
The jinsei flowed into the wounds on my back and sealed the trio of minor wounds the jinsei throwing blades had inflicted. Rafael’s kick had bruised my kidneys, and I’d bitten my tongue, but the sacred energy I’d taken from the rats washed away those aches and pains. I’d hoped the flow of energy would find its way into my right arm’s damaged channels, but the limb was still useless. That was all right. Rafael was down an arm, too.
It was time to end this.
My opponent threw a spinning back fist that would have cracked my skull if I hadn’t ducked below the jinsei-fortified fist. The upperclassman had thrown his entire weight into an attack that he was sure would annihilate me. Instead, he’d missed his target and was twisted so far off-balance he didn’t have a chance to defend against my counterattack.
I twisted to face my foe and rose from my crouch with my left fist in the lead. The uppercut caught the Disciple under his ribs on the right side of his body, and I funneled every scrap of jinsei I could draw from the rats into the punch. White light flared around my fist and speared through my target’s core like a lance.
He howled in pain and responded by throwing his body into a butterfly kick. His lead foot slammed down on my left wrist and knocked my defense aside. His second attack hammered my right collarbone and jangled the jinsei channels there so hard the whole left side of my body went numb. The kick’s follow-through drove me to one knee.
My wounded channels struggled to repair themselves as I drew more jinsei into them. Unfortunately, there was no way to get enough energy to heal the damage before Rafael could finish me off.
A sinister humming sound buzzed through the air above my head, an electrical crackle of raw power that raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
The Disciple’s hands were raised above his head and his eyes glowed with crimson power. If I’d had any strength left, I could have finished the fight in that moment.
But I didn’t.
My enemy’s fusion sword shimmered to life in his hands. The other Disciples gasped and rushed forward as if to stop their leader from committing a terrible crime.
“Raphael,” one of them pleaded. “You’ll kill him!”
“Leave us,” the tall Disciple growled. “He must be destroyed before he can dishonor this institution any further.”
The revelation that my fellow student was intended to kill me filled my guts with icy dread and my heart with an even colder determination.
I forced the jinsei I’d stolen from the rats down through my left arm and into my hand. The bestial force coursed through
my jinsei channels with the sensation of dozens of tiny, clawed feet racing across my skin. The fuzzy outline of my long-hilted fusion sword took shape between my outstretched fingers, swirls of shadow gathered around the blade.
“Don’t,” I cautioned Rafael. “Whatever lies you’ve been told about me aren’t worth the stain on your honor for my murder.”
“The only stain on my honor will come from letting you escape the fate you deserve.” Rafael swung his fusion blade in a downward stroke aimed directly at my forehead. His eyes were thin slits of raw malice, and his teeth were bared in a lethal grimace. His blade was five feet long and carried all its weight at the broad tip. It wasn’t a weapon meant for fighting.
It was an executioner’s tool.
In the split second that Rafael’s blade screamed toward my upturned face, I pulled more jinsei from the rats. The little guys gave me everything they had to give, but it wasn’t enough to complete the weapon.
Rafael’s sword was a foot from my face.
Desperation pushed me past my limits to lash a connection to a fourth rat, then a fifth. Their jinsei flooded into me and I channeled it into my sword. The spectral blade became translucent, then milky with power, and its weight solidified in my grasp.
Even with a fully formed fusion sword, I still had only one hand and wouldn’t be strong enough to block the force of Rafael’s blow. With only inches separating my skull from its bloody end, I poured the dregs of the jinsei I’d stolen from the rats into the wounded channels in my right arm.
The jolt of power forced life back into my useless hand. I seized the hilt of my fusion sword with my wounded hand and thrust the weapon up to meet my enemy’s mortal blow.
My blade caught Rafael’s crude blow and turned it aside at the last possible instant.
The executioner’s sword sliced through my robes and carved away a sliver of my shoulder. Blood hissed through the air as Rafael’s fusion weapon slammed into the stone floor. The heavy end sank two inches into the marble and stuck fast. Rafael cursed and struggled to wrestle his blade free of the stone, but even his jinsei-empowered muscles couldn’t tear it loose.
