Hollow Core

by Gage Lee

  The armored woman on my right jabbed a finger at my chest. “Mr. Jace Warin, you are under arrest. Come peacefully or be subdued.”

  The Conspiracy

  “YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN you wouldn’t get away with this,” Grayson muttered from the Circle of Verity next to mine. “The adjudicator will get to the bottom of this.”

  “I hope so, honored elder.” I didn’t look at the headmaster. He was trying to get under my skin and I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. “There have been so many strange incidents since I arrived here. I’d like to know what is happening and why.”

  Grayson grunted at that and went back to staring holes in the bench in front of us. The rest of the tribunal hadn’t arrived yet, but we were assured they’d be along soon.

  I guessed it was hard to round up high-ranking Empyreals to pass judgment on one of the sages in the middle of the night.

  At least, that’s what I hoped that ring around Grayson meant. Because if they had some new dirt on me, like maybe I was a new Eclipse Warrior, things would get very grim for me. It’d be a real shame if I’d gone through this whole year only to be executed in a secret midnight ceremony at the end of it all.

  Finally, when it felt like Grayson’s patience had been stretched so thin he was about to kill me just for giggles, the door at the front of the room opened, and the tribunal entered.

  Adjudicator Hark led the way, and her golden eyes flashed like a pair of lighthouses. I felt a ton better with someone who believed that the deck had been stacked against me. Sure, she’d sentenced me to six months of solitary confinement, more or less, but no one’s perfect.

  Tycho was the next in line. His eyes lingered on my core for a beat, and I expected him to make some smart-aleck comment about how empty it still was. Instead, he gave me a short shake of his head and beamed a thousand-watt smile at Grayson.

  The third and final member of the tribunal was slower to enter, as it had to maneuver its oversized head through the doorway and keep its long, twisted body from colliding with the walls or bumping the backs of the adjudicator or Tycho.

  “Oh.” The word was barely a whisper. It had been shocked out of Grayson’s mouth. He didn’t even seem to have noticed he’d spoken.

  The final member of our tribunal was an enormous white dragon. It twisted this way and that for a few moments, then grumbled something in a language I couldn’t understand. Sparks of jinsei danced around its head, and tremendous power was drawn into it in a sudden rush.

  “That’s better.” The dragon’s body had melted away and then reformed in the shape of a young woman with skin the color of fresh snow. Her white robes were constructs of solid jinsei, and her eyes glowed with an inner fire I didn’t dare meet. “All right, then. Let’s get this show on the road. I don’t have all night to judge your disputes. I have to catch up on the new Serial podcast.”

  “Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule, honored Zephyr.” Adjudicator Hark bowed low to the dragon, then took her seat again. “With your help, this issue should be resolved very quickly.”

  The dragon preened at the praise and leaned forward with her hands steepled on the bench in front of her.

  “Defendants, you have been gathered here together because the accusations against you are so closely intertwined.” Adjudicator Hark gave me a sad glance, then sternly glared at Grayson.

  “Who accused me?” Grayson looked incredulously at the adjudicator. “And of what?”

  “My apologies, most honorable elder Bishop.” The adjudicator didn’t roll her eyes, but her tone was sarcastic enough to raise Zephyr’s thin white brows. “If you would prefer we dispense with the charges against you first, then I will do so.”

  Grayson looked like he’d just swallowed a mouthful of bees. Despite his obvious displeasure with the situation, the headmaster wisely kept his mouth shut.

  “There is only one charge of any consequence where you are concerned, Sage Bishop.” The adjudicator’s eyes narrowed, and her tone grew very grave. “Did you harbor a member of the Locust Court within the territory under your control as headmaster of the School of Swords and Serpents?”

  Grayson’s face paled and his eyes burned with rage.

  “You dare accuse me of such madness?” Grayson’s accusation was directed at Tycho, not Adjudicator Hark. “No, I would never—”

  Grayson’s eyes narrowed to pained slits, and he pursed his lips together to block a cry from escaping. Light shot up from the Circle of Verity and danced over the headmaster’s fine robes like a thunderstorm. The pain had to be immense, but Grayson didn’t utter a sound. His eyes remained locked on Tycho throughout the ordeal, and the hate that passed the two men filled the air with aspects so dark even I wouldn’t have willingly taken them into my aura, and I had experience with death and destruction energies.

  “Would you like to answer that question again?” The adjudicator’s eyes were downcast, and her shoulders slumped. She took no joy in what was happening to Grayson, just as she’d taken no joy in my sentencing.

  “May I present evidence to the tribunal, honored Adjudicator?” Tycho said the words more quietly and respectfully than I’d ever heard him address another person.

  He was up to something.

  “You may.” The adjudicator eased back in her seat and waited for Tycho to do his thing.

  “Thank you.” He reached into his robes and pulled out a slim tome bound in leather. He stepped down from the bench and showed Grayson the book. “Is this your journal?”

  Tycho riffled the pages and opened the cover to display the title page.

  “It does appear to be my journal,” Grayson admitted. “My personal journal. I’d be interested in how it came into your possession.”

  “Is this your handwriting?” Tycho flipped to one random page after another, showing each to Grayson until the headmaster nodded.

  “Yes.” Grayson’s bravado faded. He looked as wary as a cornered rat. “As much as I can determine from such a cursory examination, that is my handwriting.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bishop.” The adjudicator’s voice had grown chill. “Please refrain from explaining yourself. Yes or no is sufficient.”

  “Yes, Adjudicator.” Grayson’s voice was tight. He knew Tycho was laying a trap, and he had no idea how to avoid it.

  “May I continue?” The Adjudicator nodded to Reyes. He flipped toward the back of the journal. “Is this page also your handwriting?”

  The headmaster took his time and examined the page closely. His eyes grew wider with every passing second, and his cheeks turned the color of a ripe strawberry.

  “Yes.” Grayson had more to say on the subject, but a warning glare from Adjudicator Hark silenced him.

  “May I read this portion of the journal into the record?” Tycho asked.

  “You may. Please be discreet. The tribunal need only know information pertinent to this matter.” Adjudicator Hark seemed tense. She didn’t know what Tycho had up his sleeves, either.

  The dragon looked bored, but her crystalline eyes flicked about the courtroom. She wasn’t missing anything.

  “We have secured tribute to the court.” Tycho read from the book, then paused for dramatic effect. “An emissary spirit will arrive soon to assist in the Warin matter.”

  Grayson practically chewed through his lip to keep from saying a word. Watching the sage struggle with his emotions as Tycho dismantled his entire life was rough.

  I had no love for Grayson Bishop, but I still felt a pang of sympathy for him.

  “Sage Bishop”— Tycho held the journal up—“are you aware of another ‘court’ that demands tribute, other than the Locust Court?”

  “No.”

  With that single syllable, I knew the headmaster was doomed.

  “Sage Reyes, that is enough.” Adjudicator Hark raised her left hand and a line of black script appeared in the air over her head. In the same moment, the door behind me opened. I glanced over my shoulder as more of the armored guards ap
peared. “Honored Sage Bishop, this tribunal has determined there is sufficient evidence to require a full inquest into this matter. For the time being, you are remanded to the custody of the Empyreal Guard.”

  Grayson glared daggers at Tycho, then glanced at me with a mixture of loathing and sympathy. He looked like he had something to tell me, then decided against it at the last second.

  The guards swooped in between the headmaster and me. They shackled his arms and legs with heavy crystalline chains, deactivated the Circle of Verity, then hauled him out of the chamber without another word. No one moved or said a word until the door closed behind Grayson’s escort.

  With the headmaster gone, a heavy weight lifted off my shoulders. He’d orchestrated almost a year of misery at my expense. With him gone, maybe things would be easier next year. Unless, of course, the rest of the staff decided I was responsible for getting their boss tossed out on his ear. Or the inquest decided he wasn’t guilty, and he wound up back as the chool’s headmaster.

  That was a thought I didn’t even want to consider. No matter who’d accused Grayson, he’d find some way to blame everything on me.

  “Mr. Warin.” Adjudicator Hark’s words dragged me out of the cloud of dark thoughts. “You are here for two reasons. First, the tribunal must re-evaluate your sentencing.”

  The adjudicator’s golden eyes burned against my aura. The weight of her attention fell on my core, then slid off before it could burrow too deeply. The uncomfortable silence stretched out for a handful of seconds that lasted an eternity before Adjudicator Hark shook her head and turned her attention to a sheaf of parchment on the bench in front of her.

  “Your professors note you are exceptionally weak for an Empyreal.” The adjudicator shuffled her pages. “And yet you are consistently at the top of the challenges you face here. Would you care to explain to the tribunal how this is possible?”

  “I’ve had the benefit of instruction in honored elder Reyes’s laboratory.” The Circle of Verity didn’t barbecue me, so I kept on with my explanation. “The spirit who tutored me is very knowledgeable and explained a number of advanced techniques that were very useful in overcoming the challenges. I also had access to a very large store of purified jinsei to make up for my own inadequacies.”

  “Stolen purified jinsei,” Tycho added with a polite bow to the adjudicator.

  “Duly noted. Speaking of jinsei, Mr. Warin, how much of what you purified did you steal?” The Adjudicator held up one hand to silence Tycho, who’d practically jumped out of his chair at the question.

  Tycho’s intense gaze burned holes in my aura. He didn’t want me to tell the adjudicator anything, and for good reason. If the other Empyreals heard how much he’d made off my blood, sweat, and tears, they’d all want me slaving away for them.

  Too bad for them my days as a jinsei filter had come to an end when I’d merged the locust spirit’s core with mine.

  “Less than five percent.” The Circle of Verity flickered before deciding that my imprecise calculation wasn’t reason enough to burn me alive.

  “Honored Sage Reyes, would you say it’s accurate that Mr. Warin purified approximately seventy-five million oboli worth of jinsei for you this year?”

  “I suppose.” Tycho slumped back into his seat with a deflated sigh.

  “Would you agree that Mr. Warin’s exceptional work on your behalf has enriched you above and beyond any debt he owes you?”

  The elder frowned and gnawed on his lip as he tried to come up with a way to spin his response in his favor.

  “Answer the question, Tycho,” the dragon demanded.

  “Fine, yes.” Tycho’s eyes burned into me. “He’s earned many times more than my investment in him.”

  “Excellent.” The adjudicator made a mark in the air in front of her and glowing letters appeared. “Then his debt is canceled. In gratitude for the riches he has brought to your house, you will pay the remainder of his tuition for as long as he wishes to remain enrolled in this institution.”

  “That’s over a—”

  “A million oboli, yes. Per year.” The Adjudicator frowned. “Which still leaves you with nearly seventy million oboli earned off Mr. Warin’s efforts. That is more than fair compensation.”

  Tycho accepted his loss with more calm than I’d expected. His eyes were narrowed in thought, though, so he’d probably come up with another horrible scheme to torment me before this was all said and done.

  The adjudicator turned her attention back to me. “Mr. Warin, did you abide by the terms of your sentencing last handed down by this tribunal?”

  “To the best of my ability.” The circle scorched me for that half-truth. “I did liberate myself when I’d gone without food for most of a day. I was hungry, and Hahen—”

  “Hahen?” The dragon mused and scratched the underside of her jaw with a long white nail. “I haven’t heard that name in ages. A little rat spirit?”

  “He’s not so little these days.” Tycho chuckled, his foul mood already lifting. That couldn’t be good for me. “What were you about to say, Mr. Warin?”

  “He didn’t bring my meals.” I shrugged. “No idea why.”

  “I’ll look into that.” Tycho seemed disturbed by what I’d told him.

  “Well, Mr. Warin, I think that’s all we need to discuss here. Do you have anything further to add to these proceedings?”

  “No, honored Adjudicator.” I bowed to her, then to the dragon and Tycho. “I humbly thank you for your mercy and swear to abide by your decision.”

  “Very well.” The adjudicator drew more symbols in the air. “This tribunal absolves you of your past crimes. You have rehabilitated yourself admirably and have provided a powerful service for Elder Tycho. However, this tribunal would like for you to perform one last service for us.”

  “Anything, honored Adjudicator.” I’d just had Grayson removed from my life, been freed from my debt to Tycho, and my record was clean. I’d have done almost anything at that point.

  “Thank you, Mr. Warin.” The adjudicator couldn’t suppress her smile. “The details of your service can be found on a slate in your room, along with details on how to contact me, personally, if you have any issues with them.”

  She bowed to me, and I returned the gesture.

  It was all over, finally. I’d healed my core and proved that I belonged to the School. If that hadn’t gone a long way toward purging the stain from my family’s honor, then I didn’t know what would.

  The tribunal rose, and the adjudicator left without another word.

  “I’m sure we will meet again, soon, Mr. Warin.” Tycho gave me a shark’s smile and followed the adjudicator out of the room.

  The dragon, however, flopped back in her chair. She flicked her fingers toward the door, and it slammed shut.

  “We need to have a little chat.” The dragon’s smile revealed twin rows of sharp teeth. “Come closer.”

  Her eyes frosted over with white light as I stepped out of the deactivated circle. Zephyr’s attention burned through my aura and deep into my core. The power of her attention drove me to my knees and ripped the breath out of my lungs.

  “Sorry about that.” The dragon vaulted over the bench and helped me to my feet. “Sometimes I forget how frail you mortals can be.”

  Her hand was cold on my wrist, and jinsei poured out of her and into my channels. Her power was so intense I couldn’t bring myself to even look at her. I’d never felt so weak and insignificant in my life.

  “Thank you, honored dragon.” She released my wrist, and I gratefully pulled my hand away.

  “You’re a clever boy, Jace.” The dragon’s cold smile softened. “But cleverness won’t be enough to see you safely down this path you’ve chosen.”

  “I’m sorry, honored dragon, I don’t understand.”

  “You’ve chased honor your whole life, Jace.” The dragon’s smile drifted into an almost wistful look. “It brought you here from the camps. It forced you to do things you thought impossible. Yo
u’ve had your missteps, but I believe your reputation will soon be cleansed in the eyes of many. Now that you’ve captured the honor you crave, was it worth it?”

  The question caught me off guard, and I had to stop and think about it for a moment before I could answer.

  If Adjudicator Hark spread the word about what I’d done for Tycho, and people believed her, then my theft would look more like a well-deserved bonus. I’d made Tycho fabulously wealthy in exchange for what was a relative pittance. Heck, I’d used less than ten percent of what I’d taken, and he’d recovered the rest. That was a bargain in anyone’s eyes.

  I’d also defeated a locust spirit, won the final challenge, and ended the year at the very top of my class. Yeah, I’d racked up some honor.

  But was it worth it?

  Abi would probably never fully trust me again, no matter what. He saw the world as very black and white, and what I’d done was definitely on the darker side of the spectrum. Losing his faith hurt.

  A lot.

  But, more importantly, my quest had cost me my mother. She was still out there, somewhere, sure. If I knew that I’d see her again someday, I’d be fine with everything. Without that assurance, though...

  “No. For me, personally, I feel the price was too high.” And, yet, the answer was more complex than that. “For my family and other campers, though, it was worth it. Maybe now Empyreals will know that a camper is not less than they are. That the sins of the father don’t always rest on the son’s shoulders. And maybe someone like me will hear about this and know that they, too, can be more than they ever thought possible.”

  The dragon placed her hands on my shoulders and pressed her forehead to mine. The weight of her presence overwhelmed me. I felt her thoughts against mine, and our cores pulsed in harmony as she showed me a glimpse of her world.

  Cold wind swirled across my face and tugged at my robes. The dragon’s true form encircled me in a coil of vibrant white that gleamed against the snowy ground.

  “You are wiser than you know, Jace.” Her voice rumbled all around me. “You have opened many eyes today. And many doors. Not all of them should have been forced wide, Eclipse Warrior.”