by Gage Lee
“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 both hands 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.
While my foe struggled, I connected my core to a sixth rat, then a seventh. The jinsei and beast aspects flooded into me, and I forced the power into my strained channels. The infusion of power got me back on my feet and reforged the channels in my right arm faster than I’d believed possible. Shadows of my serpent hissed and wound around my newly healed limb. A bestial power raged inside me, ready to be unleashed.
I raised the elongated hilt of my fusion sword in both hands and stared deep into Rafael’s core as he desperately tried to free his weapon from the stone’s unyielding grasp.
“You would have killed me.” The words spilled out of me like lead weights.
“Yes!” Rafael shouted. “You are dishonorable trash, less than nothing. Your presence defiles these honored halls. You are weak and useless. Not even the Shadow Phoenixes can tolerate your filthy presence, camper.”
“Weak?” I slammed my blade down on the back of Rafael’s fusion sword. My weapon’s gleaming edge bit an inch into its thick, unwieldy target, and both weapons unleashed pained shrieks.
Rafael struggled to tear his weapon free, his eyes bloodshot, his face flushed as red as a ripe strawberry. Threads of fear wound their way through his aura. He flicked his eyes to his sword, then back to my face.
“No,” he moaned, suddenly aware of what was about to happen.
Aurelius had told me that damaging another practitioner’s fusion weapon could harm his core. I wondered how deep Rafael’s wound would be if I destroyed his executioner’s sword.
I raised my foot and, with a ragged kiai, drove it down onto the far end of my fusion sword. Jinsei poured out of the rats and into my leg, strengthening the muscles and hardening my sole into an iron hammer.
The sounds of screaming metal and shattering glass filled the air. A blast of white light obliterated my sight. A wave of tremendous force flung me off my feet and sent me tumbling down the hallway like a leaf in a hurricane. My shoulder slammed into the floor with a painful crunch, and I skidded along the smooth marble until my skull smacked into a wall with enough force to send a swarm of shooting stars across my vision.
Survival instinct tried to get me to my feet, but I couldn’t lift my head, much less stand under my own power. My leg stung like someone had slammed a cactus into it. My face was as tight and hot as the worst sunburn I’d ever suffered.
Someone hooked their hands under my shoulders and hoisted me upright. His garbled and distorted words were meaningless noise to me. It was as if my head were underwater and people on the surface were shouting at me.
I blinked, again and again, and the stars in my vision became shadows, and the shadows resolved into the vague outlines of people. My ears rang, but the hum and buzz of indistinguishable voices broke into individual sounds and swam into slow focus.
“Can you hear me?” Abi’s voice, low and grave, was the first one I could understand. “Jace, please. Answer me.”
“I’m here.” My lungs ached and my chest felt like I’d been kicked by a mule. A dozen other annoying aches and pains clamored for attention. My head throbbed. My face stung. Both of my eyes were swollen and ached as if they’d been baked inside my skull. There was something wrong with my nose, and my mouth and chin were covered in a sticky mask that made it hard to breathe. My injured leg twitched and jumped as if it had a life of its own. The shallow wound on my shoulder throbbed and blood ran from it to soak into the sleeve of my robe. “I’m alive?”
“Mostly,” Abi said, and his big, heartfelt laugh did more to ease my pain than I’d imagined possible. He held his hand over my wounded shoulder, and threads of jinsei poured from his palm. He wasn’t as skilled a healer as my mother, but his ministrations helped the wound to scab and stopped the bleeding. “You should have seen it.”
“What?” I asked again. The shadows took on colors, and their blurry outlines snapped into sharper focus.
“Rafael drew his fusion sword,” Abi said. “He was going to cut you down like a dog. And then you—”
“I remember that. What happened after? Where is Rafael?”
“The other Disciples dragged him off. He’ll live, but I don’t think he’s going to pick another fight with you anytime soon.” Abi chuckled and pointed at the ground. “Look what you did to his sword. It’s going to take him a long time to fix that.”
Shards of translucent gray-green metal littered the marble floor. A heavy hilt lay amid the wreckage, its surface steaming as the jinsei that had created it boiled away. With no mind to control it, and no hand to guide it, the jinsei weapon would soon return to pure energy.
“You’re lucky that little stunt didn’t kill you both,” Professor Ishigara snapped from the scriptorium’s doorway. “Get in here before I decide to dock your rankings for unauthorized dueling in the hallway.”
My blood boiled at the injustice of it all. Rafael and the Disciples had ambushed Abi and would have beaten him half to death if I hadn’t intervened. Even worse, Rafael had tried to straight-up murder me, and I was the one getting yelled at.
Professor Ishigara stared at me, her dark eyes flashing, and I knew there was no point in arguing with her. She’d already made up her mind as to what had happened, and she didn’t want to hear my side of the story.
“My apologies, honored Professor,” I said, with a deep bow that nearly toppled me over onto the floor.
Abi helped me stand up straight, then scurried into the scriptorium, bobbing his head in a series of abbreviated bows as he uttered a stream of apologies to Professor Ishigara.
I drew more jinsei into my body and fed it into my superficial wounds. In the space of a handful of heartbeats, I felt steady enough to walk and the sticky blood that clung to my skin steamed away in foul-smelling clouds. My core ached and it would take time for the many bruises I’d earned to heal, but the worst was behind me.
Before I could follow my friend into the classroom, the professor put a hand on my shoulder. Her angry mask melted to reveal a sad, worried expression.
“You will have to be very careful now, Mr. Warin.” Her voice was a low, stern whi
sper. “Once they learn you can defend yourself, their attacks will become much more insidious. And they will be prepared for your fusion sword next time. I hope you are prepared for the storm you have unleashed.”
Professor Ishigara’s cold mask snapped back into place, and she turned sharply and stomped into the classroom before I could ask what she meant by any of that.
My thoughts raced as I took my seat next to Abi and arranged my scrivening tools on the broad desktop.
I had to figure out why someone wanted me dead.
So I could kill them, first.
It was the only way I’d ever be safe.
The Trip
NO ONE TRIED TO MURDER me for the rest of that week, or the next.
That was a relief.
It would’ve been even more of a relief if almost the entire student body wasn’t giving me the cold shoulder. My own clan still wouldn’t talk to me, and whenever Deacon saw me, he literally ran in the opposite direction. Half of my professors ignored my questions in class, and the other half needled me mercilessly with questions on material they hadn’t covered yet.
Headmaster Bishop ignored me entirely, as if I were beneath his notice. Whenever I saw him in the halls, he lifted his nose so high I was surprised he didn’t sprain his neck. Despite that, I knew he had to be the one spearheading this orchestrated assault on me. If he couldn’t figure out a way to expel me, he’d just make me quit or get me killed.
What Grayson didn’t know, though, was that quitting wasn’t an option for me. I owed Tycho Reyes for the gift he’d given me, and there was no way the head of the Disciples would let his investment go to waste.
In fact, I was certain that Reyes would put a stop to any further attacks from his clan for the same reason. As soon as I told him what was going on, he’d end this.
Unfortunately, Tycho was nowhere to be found. I begged Hahen to put me in touch with the sage, and the rat spirit insisted that he’d tried to reach our mutual master to no avail. Whatever had occupied Tycho’s attention, it prevented him from paying any mind to the threats on my life.
I couldn’t depend on anyone to keep me safe. If I wanted to remain at the School of Swords and Serpents, I’d have to score enough points to stay out of the bottom ten percent of initiates.
Oh, and I needed to be ready to fend off any further attempts to kill me. That would be a challenge.
At least I did have seven rankings, which was more than most of the other students. The Resplendent Suns were still in the lead, naturally, with fifteen ranks, while the Thunder’s Children and Titans of Majestic Stone clans jockeyed for second place with twelve and ten ranks, respectively. The only reason the Shadow Phoenixes weren’t dead last was because of my efforts. The Disciples of Jade Flame were trying to claw their way out of last place with more duels, but word of Rafael’s unprovoked attempt to murder me made other clans leery of accepting their challenges. That left his clan in dead last place.
If I stayed ahead of the Disciples, I could survive the year.
“All right, students, group up according to clan,” Professor Xarla said as the rest of the students took their seats seconds before the tardy bell rang. “Today’s class will consist entirely of an alchemy challenge.”
That dragged me out of my dark thoughts. This challenge was perfect for me. My evenings in the lab with Hahen had put me so far ahead of the rest of my classmates I’d struggled to pretend I didn’t understand the basic concepts they were still wrestling with. Whatever the challenge was, this was my moment to shine.
“Good luck!” Clem said and clapped me on the right shoulder as she headed off to join the other initiates from the Thunder’s Children clan. Eric and Abi shot me a thumbs-up, and I returned their gestures with a grin.
Not even Deacon’s glum face and silence could dampen my spirits. There wasn’t a single student in my class who stood a chance of beating me at this challenge.
“Here we have tainted jinsei.” Professor Xarla held aloft a crystalline beaker filled with cloudy fluid and rimed with thin patches of frost. “You will remove the ice aspects from the sacred energy, and deposit them in an empty vessel I will provide. As this class focuses on practical applications, you will then use those aspects to transform the ingredients under your desks into ice cream. The first student to deliver a refreshing dessert to my desk wins the challenge.”
Clem’s hand shot into the air as soon as the professor stopped speaking.
“Are we all competing?” she asked the instant she was recognized.
“This is a clan competition, Clementine.” Xarla smiled. “Each clan must choose a champion who will compete for your glory and honor. I will distribute the supplies, and we will begin in precisely five minutes.”
“Let me do this.” Deacon gave no indication that he’d heard me, so I prodded him with my elbow. “Please. I’m not asking for your help. You won’t have to lift a finger. Just don’t try to sabotage me.”
My fellow Shadow Phoenix glared at me, then shrugged his shoulders, buried his nose in his textbook, and pretended to study.
My mind raced as I pulled the ingredients out from underneath my desk and placed them in front of me. A vial of sugar, three eggs, a sealed carton of heavy cream, and a whisk were all nestled in the bottom of a copper bowl. All I needed to do was transfer the isolated ice aspects into the bowl’s aura, dump in the fixings, and stir like my life depended on it, and I’d have a bowl of vanilla ice cream.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and reached out to find the rodents I needed to help me with this task. There were no rats nearby, which was a surprise, but I did find a family of mice and an irritable shrew within range of my aura sense. I wasn’t sure how strong the cores of these smaller creatures were and hoped they’d be enough to get the job done. On the plus side, I’d been pushing myself harder since Rafael had nearly killed me and could now forge aura bonds with up to ten creatures at the same time. If any other critters wandered into my range, I’d recruit them for the cause.
“Here is your jinsei and your vessel.” Professor Xarla deposited the items on the desk between me and Deacon. She peered at us through her blue eye while her green one darted around the classroom to keep watch on the other students. It was an unnerving talent. “I assume Deacon will—”
“I am the Shadow Phoenix ranking leader, and I will be our champion in this challenge.” I stared at Deacon as I spat the words out, fists clenched, ready to argue if he tried to dispute my statement. For a moment, I thought he’d do just that, but my fellow Phoenix slumped back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest without a word.
“Very well, Mr. Warin,” the professor said as she marched away to the next group of students without a backward glance in my direction.
“You should have let me do this,” Deacon whispered to me without looking away from his book. He licked his lips and turned a page without realizing his book was upside down. “If you win any more challenges, they’ll make you stop.”
“What are you talking about?” I went through the ingredients one more time and sorted them in the order I planned to put them to use. Someone had put the fear of God into Deacon, but that wasn’t enough to get me to throw the challenge. If he wanted me to stop, he needed to give me something more.
“Don’t talk to me,” Deacon muttered. “I’ve already told you too much.”
Professor Xarla handed out the last of the supplies and returned to the front of the classroom. I glanced around at my competitors and saw that Clem had been chosen as the champion for her clan, but neither Eric nor Abi had been selected to compete. That was a relief, because while Clem had always seemed a good sport, Eric was extremely competitive, and Abi was sensitive about his honor. If I had to beat one of my friends, Clem was the one I could count on to still be my friend when the dust settled.
“Good luck,” Clem mouthed me.
“You, too,” I whispered. I wanted Clem to do her best, but despite Deacon’s warnings I needed to win this. Rankings were
my lifeline now, and I clung to them as desperately as a drowning man on a life preserver.
“Three, two, one,” Professor Xarla counted down. “You may begin.”
With no mask to help me consume the jinsei, I improvised. I pressed the vessel’s mouth tight over my mouth, leaned my head back, and breathed the corrupted sacred energy straight into my core.
Deacon stared at me with a mixture of naked disbelief and raw horror in his eyes. Most of my classmates distilled jinsei by breathing in its fumes and filtering the ephemeral essence through their cores. That was a perfectly fine method, and it was all that most students even up to the adept level of core could manage. I, on the other hand, had spent the last two and a half months wearing a mask that forced far more tainted jinsei into my lungs than any sane person would ever try to handle. Compared to the labor Tycho forced on me, breathing a flask of corrupted jinsei was a walk in the park.
Unlike the fire aspects, ice corruption immediately chilled my mouth and throat. I got a wicked case of brain freeze and my stomach clenched as the freezing aspects flooded into my core. My muscles shivered and my teeth chattered, but I didn’t stop breathing. The ice aspects flowed through me and into the rodents connected to me.
The mice shuddered as I poured the ice energy into their cores. They shivered and squeaked and gathered together for warmth, and their breaths emerged from their snouts in pale white clouds. When this was all over, I promised myself I’d find the poor little guys and treat them to the best cheese I could steal from the buffet.
The freezing aspects had slowed each mouse’s system, and it took them longer to process and expel the corruption than I’d expected. After almost five minutes the first ice aspect finally worked its way back to me and almost got stuck in my nostril as I exhaled it into the empty container. It tinked off the bottom of the vessel like a ball of hail, and every eye in the classroom was suddenly fixed on me.
