by Ben Hale
"There is no need to admit your guilt. The enchantments used to create the statue and the phoenix were powerful enough that it was not difficult to ascertain your identity."
"This is my school," Director Grayson said. "And I accept responsibility for what has been done." His comment caused Varson to glide to his side.
"What is he doing?" Iris hissed. "They're going to punish him."
"He's taking the fall for us," Derek murmured. "He knows it was students and he doesn't want us punished."
Rox had her hand over her mouth. Shorn was shaking his head, his expression one of disbelief. Derek couldn't tear his gaze away. This is not what he'd intended when he'd suggested the plan. He'd never dreamed they would blame the teachers.
Guilt assailed him. They would undoubtedly punish the adults far more than students. Even though the Harbingers controlling the school had demonstrated a willingness to harm the students, they had stopped short of killing them. Varson's expression and words gave no sign that this was a trick. The Harbingers truly believed the teachers had stripped Drake of magic and built the effigy of Tess.
Should Derek stand and accept responsibility? Or would that just invite punishment onto all within the Order? Indecision froze him, and he fought to find a way out of this mess. Before he could decide, Varson began to gloat.
"You admit your traitorous act against the Master?" Varson asked. "I had expected you to deny what you have done."
"She is not my master," Grayson said. With sudden vehemence he spit, eliciting a collective intake of breath from the audience. "She's a tyrant, killer, and—"
Varson flicked his hand, and the gravity punch slammed Grayson to his knees. Blood welled to the split cheek as he clutched the wound. Varson towered over him, fury lighting his expression.
"She is the Master of Earth," he said. "It is time for you to accept the reality of your new life."
"I do not," Grayson exclaimed.
"Stop," Professor Lorna of the water school pleaded with Grayson. "You're making it worse."
"You should listen to her," Varson said.
Grayson forced himself to his feet, but his eyes were on the audience. "The spirit of Tryton's cannot be caged, poisoned, or suppressed. Each of you has a duty to resist—to fight as we have. Even removed, the statue of our oracle continues to inspire us all." His gaze flicked back to Varson. "Shackles, agony, and even death will not stop the mages from fighting you."
Varson's black eyes bored into Grayson, but the director did not back down. Lorna was shaking in fear, but the other professors bore expressions that matched Grayson's. Kellon released a bellowing roar before the Voidlings could stop him. The sound elicited a rumble of praise from the crowd.
"Your misguided defiance is admirable," Varson exclaimed. His voice had quieted to an awful stillness. "But it heightens your crime." He made a signal to the Voidlings holding him, and one drifted closer.
Grayson did not struggle. He stood tall as the Voidlings assaulted his mind. His eyes darkened and his whole frame began to tremble, but he did not cry out. Derek knew from experience that the Voidlings were robbing him of all sense and ability, yet somehow Grayson remained on his feet.
But the Voidlings did not stop. Dark vapor began to rise off Grayson's body, and puffed from his opaque eyes. Unable to stop it, his mouth opened in a horrid shriek as he fell to his knees.
Varson crouched. "You spoke of death, so yours will show them what happens to traitors."
His body trembling in agony, Grayson managed to lift his head. "Tryton's will never stop fighting you!" he roared.
The audience and other teachers were stunned. Some made a move as if to help, but Voidlings were quick to intercept them. Lorna began to cry, and pleaded for Varson to stop. He didn't spare her a second glance.
Grayson's defiance could not last. The dark tinge to his body continued to deepen. Grayson's jaw was clenched tight, and it was obvious that he was fighting not to scream again. His whole frame trembling, he ultimately collapsed onto the pedestal . . . and went still. The Voidlings retreated, leaving Grayson's body layered in dark vapor.
Varson rose to his feet and turned to the audience. Many were crying. Others had clenched their fists in rage. Her face a mask of tears and anger, a girl stood up and pointedly folded her arms. Before a Voidling could stop her another followed suit, and then another. One by one the students of Tryton's stood and folded their arms in silent protest.
Varson ignored it. "Your new schedule starts tomorrow. Mallian, a former student of Thastin's School of Magic, will begin instructing you on the new world order. I advise you to behave well in his class. The staff of Tryton's evidently requires the same instruction, and so they will be taking the course as well."
His lips curled into a sneer. "Since Director Grayson is obviously no longer qualified to lead this school, Mallian will assume the role of principal administrator. Do not disobey him. Dismissed."
The students did not move until Kellon had reverently picked up the body of Grayson and departed. Then they finally exited Star Hall. Derek kept his gaze on the ground, his emotions tearing into him like shrapnel. First Kyle had been killed, then Tess, and now Grayson. How many more were going to die if they kept fighting Alice? He recoiled from the truth, but the answer echoed in his mind anyway.
Many.
Chapter 7: The Weight of Leadership
Derek stared at the food on his plate, unable to garner enough hunger to take a bite. The other students around him were equally as subdued, and few met anyone's gaze. The sound of sniffles and coughs echoed overly loud in the Tryton's meal hall.
"I can't believe he killed Grayson," Rox muttered.
"He did it right in front us," Iris said. For once she wasn't talking to the wall, and she stirred her soup without looking up.
"A bunch of the first quad students were just bawling," Shorn said.
"I wish we didn't do it," Derek muttered.
"Please tell me you didn't just say that," Shorn hissed.
"What do you expect me to say?" Derek hit back. "We're getting people killed for nothing. Kyle's dead, Tess is gone, and now Grayson. How many have to—Ouch!"
"You're being stupid," Iris said as Derek rubbed his shoulder. "You need to pay attention to what is going on."
"Are we even seeing the same thing?" Derek stabbed a finger at the room.
"People are dying everywhere," Iris said. Her eyes flashed dangerously. "We are at war, you twit."
"And we're losing," Derek said.
"We need to figure out our next move," Shorn exclaimed. "It's not over."
Derek shoved his plate away and rose to his feet. "It ended when Tess fell." He spit the words and walked away.
"Derek!" Iris yelled, drawing all eyes to her.
Derek thought he heard Shorn say, "let him go," but he didn't look back. He stalked from the meal hall and returned to his room. Slamming the door behind him he sank onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. Rage and frustration boiled through him. Tess would have known what to do. She would keep fighting because she always had a plan.
Warren appeared an hour later, but Derek turned his back on him. No words were exchanged and his roommate waved his hand to turn off the light. Derek stared at the wall until sleep took him. He awoke with his emotions still searing through him. Skipping breakfast he went to Siarra's refuge.
Alone, he sank into a corner of one of the training rooms. The time for his class came and went, but he remained. He didn't care anymore. Shorn found him around lunch time. Without a word he slid down the wall next to him, and for a while neither of them spoke. Wrapped in his thoughts Derek didn't spare him a glance. The minutes ticked past until it became apparent that Shorn wasn't going to speak first.
"I don't want to do this anymore," Derek said.
"I know," Shorn replied.
"You should lead the Order," Derek said. "I'm done."
"I can't do that."
Derek rounded on him. "Why not? You were captain of our Tempest team. With Tess
gone we don’t have a leader anymore, and you should be it."
"You're our leader," Shorn said.
"It's not like we voted," Derek said. "I guided us to do the statue of Tess, and look what happened because of it."
"It worked."
Derek got to his feet, and Shorn did the same. Derek stabbed a finger at him. "All it did was get a good man killed. If anything, people are more afraid now than before."
"You're wrong," Shorn said, and folded his arms. "The mere fact that Varson killed him demonstrates that. The Harbingers are attempting to quell the rising defiance."
"It's working."
Shorn was angry now. "Did you see the kids standing up? Did you see how they refused to leave? They were afraid. Now they're angry."
"So you lead them to fight," Derek yelled. "And feel the guilt when someone dies."
"You're our leader now," Shorn insisted.
"Why!" Derek exploded. "I've never led anyone!"
Shorn sighed, and his anger abruptly drained away. "Because you're good at it—better than I am. You see people and how they fit together. I learned strategy from a game. You were born with it. Don't you see how the others listen to you?"
"That's just because Tess is gone," Derek said.
"No," Shorn challenged. "Even she listened to you. You were always the one with the ideas, and knew how to make people come together. You got a group of students to make the illusion of a phoenix—and got every single one of us out without getting caught. It was so good that Varson dismissed the idea that students were behind it."
"And Grayson died because of it."
"He died for all of us."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Derek asked.
"Did you listen to him? He knew he was going to die. He called us to action with his dying breath."
Derek wanted to argue, but couldn't find the words. The image of Grayson standing in defiance of Varson flashed before his eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, Shorn was right. Derek blew out his breath and looked away.
"We're just teenagers," Derek finally said. "We have no place in this."
"You're right," Shorn said. "But Alice brought us in when she took Tryton's. She thinks she can use us to keep our parents from fighting. Nothing is stopping us from fighting. Tess knew that."
Derek winced at the reference to Tess. "We can't stop the Dark without her."
"Maybe not, but we might be able to stop Alice. The strongest mages in the world are on this city, and they can't do anything because Alice controls it. While she is here, we're losing."
"We can't just kick her out," Derek protested.
"But we can resist, and if we push hard enough maybe something will break."
Derek frowned. "That's not going to be enough."
"It was enough in the Second Draeken War," Shorn said. "The entire population of Earth gathered to defend their lives—to resist Draeken's army. They refused to give up, and neither will we."
"So what are you proposing we do?" Derek folded his arms. "It's not like we can go after them directly."
Shorn surprised him by laughing. "How am I supposed to know? You're the one that comes up with the plan."
Derek couldn’t stop the sudden grin, but it faded as quickly as it had come. "What if I get someone else killed. What if I get you killed?"
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid," Shorn said. His humor was gone as well. "But I don't think that matters. If it costs my life to defeat the Dark . . . I'll do it. I accepted that when I saw what the Dark was doing to the aurens. We've lost only a few to Alice, but the aurens have lost half their population. They're being exterminated."
"He's right, Derek," Iris exclaimed.
Derek turned to find Rox and his sister approaching. "How long have you been there?"
"We just got here," Iris said, annoyed. "But he's right."
"But Tess—"
"Would want us to fight," Rox insisted. "Those were your words when you thought she was still alive."
Derek didn't like having them thrown back at him. He growled under his breath. "You know they still have our mother. What if our actions get Trina killed? What if we already killed her?"
"She's not dead," Iris said. "Since Tess fell they haven't let me see her—but I get an echo from her every once in a while."
"Don't you see?" Rox exclaimed. "You are the leader. Tess may have had the power, but you had the plan."
"It's been a week since she fell into the Dark," Derek said. "What if . . . she doesn't come back?"
They were the hardest words he'd ever said, and he still couldn't bring himself to believe them. He needed Tess, and not just because she was the oracle. He'd grown to feel much more for her than he'd ever thought possible. He clenched his jaw. He would never admit it, but deep down he would never believe she'd died.
Iris suddenly caught the wall as her legs buckled. She recovered quickly. "Jimmy, you had better not be lying to me or I swear I'll—You can't be serious. What do you mean she . . ." her jaw fell open, her expression stunned.
"Iris . . .?" Derek began, but she cut him off with a gesture.
"But how did she . . . I know about them, but why go . . . okay, get back to me when you can, and keep this quiet. I mean it. Don't whisper a word of this to anyone. That's what her parents said? Good, then we are thinking on the same lines. I really should get them a nexus orb so they can talk directly to me . . ."
Derek's heart beat faster. Time seemed to stop and speed up at the same time. Was it possible? He swallowed at the surge of hope. "Iris, you better start talking. Who's Jimmy?"
"He's my contact at the Guild," Iris said distractedly. "Paul, shut down those threads before they can spread. Greg, make sure that we three are the only ones that know, use a worm curse to erase them—yes I know it's painful, but it will stop you from accidently telling anyone. Paul, you do the same—Of course I'm going to do it as well . . ."
"Iris!" Derek growled.
Iris blinked and focused on them. "Tess is alive."
The words struck like a sledge hammer, and for a long moment he could only stare at his sister. Then his blood rushed through his veins and he nearly passed out. Weak and light-headed, he instinctively reached out to steady himself on the wall.
"Don't say it unless it's true," Shorn said forcefully.
"It's me," Iris said, frowning. "I don't say anything unless it's true."
"How," Derek demanded.
"The dark elves found her in the Dark and got her into their domain. It looks like it was the only way for her to escape."
"The Deep?" Rox's eyes shot up. "Dark elves aren't supposed to come onto the surface. It's one of the things my dad sometimes has to look into."
"She's alive," Derek breathed. "That's all that matters."
"It explains why she can't talk to us," Iris said to herself. "Our signals don't really penetrate the ground. There'd be no way for her to connect to the threads."
"We need to tell the others," Shorn began. "This changes everything."
"No." Iris jerked her head. "They don't want Alice finding out that she's alive. Jack and Kate don't want her going after Tess again." Her gaze flicked back and forth so fast it looked like she'd gone crazy. Her expression was alight with triumph as she muttered. "Alice won't know what hit her." Then she spun to face Derek. "Are you ready to fight yet?"
Derek met her gaze as the euphoria faded. It left behind a cold resolve. Then an idea crossed his mind, and he knew exactly what to do. A wicked grin slowly spread on his features.
"I know just where to start."
Chapter 8: Made in Pairs
Hawk kept to the storm clouds as he flew east over the Atlantic. Alice had revealed his identity to the world, but he had no desire to tangle with either mage or auren. His effort was made difficult by the presence of countless commercial airlines.
Gathered like flocks of geese, the jets had been flying non-stop in order to evacuate Europe to the Americas. The planes returned with only the pilot, and we
re hastily filled by more refugees. The Dark had continued to advance across the continent, forcing aurens to leave or die.
Weaving his way through the crowded skies, Hawk reached his goal and folded his wings. He plummeted toward the ocean below. White-capped and violent, the storm had driven the overloaded refugee boats to the north and south. Their absence allowed him a window of obscurity.
A thousand feet from impact he spotted a figure floating on the water. In spite of the choppy surface, his position appeared still and serene. Adjusting his path to reach him, Hawk morphed into his human shape as the figure crafted a boat out of aquaglass. Hawk landed just as it finished taking shape.
"Well, I'm here," Janson said. "Now what?"
Hawk motioned to the ocean below their feet. "I need you to take me to Atlantis."
Janson's eyes widened. "How? It's been lost for ages."
"Not to me."
Janson finally shrugged and changed their boat into an underwater craft. With barely a ripple, they slipped under the waves. As an experienced water mage, Janson managed the mounting pressure with skill and precision. No hint of a crack betrayed their depth as they sank into the abyss.
Hawk lit several candle charms to light their way, and then asked, "Is the evacuation going well?"
Janson shook his head. "For every thousand we save we leave a million behind. In spite of everything there are still aurens that refuse to evacuate."
"It has always been so," Hawk said. "Disbelief leads to inaction, and inaction to death."
Janson threw him a look. "The auren evacuation fleet has grown to over a thousand ships. I doubted you in the beginning, but you were right. Without our aid they could not have saved half as many."
"You have performed flawlessly," Hawk replied. "This endeavor has given us a chance to unite our Guild with the mages, and further with the aurens. In all of the evacuation fleets the same impact has occurred. This war may kill billions, but it has forced the world to unite under a single banner."
"So why take me away so you can go to Atlantis?"
"Because our alliance will be for naught unless we can defeat our foes."
