by Gage Lee
“And what about your paths?” I looked at each student in the front row, and they all looked away. “Surely you’ve made some progress there.”
None of the students would look at me. They fidgeted in their seats or toyed with the empty vessels on their desks. A couple of them even put their heads down, like they were so embarrassed they just wanted to go to sleep until I left them alone.
Too bad for them I had no interest in leaving anyone alone. These hollows had to heal themselves. I wouldn’t let them become slaves to the Church.
“All right, then.” I crossed my arms over my chest and put on my stern teacher face. “I guess we have a lot of work to do.”
Christina scowled at me, and Ricky looked at the ceiling as if expecting rescue from that direction. The other students either stared past me at the blackboard in the hopes they’d misheard me or stared at the scarred surfaces of their desks with their shoulders hunched up around their ears.
“What’s going on here?” My irritation at the students’ lack of ambition had turned to concern. “I’m trying to help you reach your full potential. If you find your path, that’s one step closer to healing your core.”
“We don’t want to get hurt,” Christina said in a low, sullen voice.
“Like what happened to you in the challenge,” Ricky added.
“And where did you hear about the challenge?” As far as I knew, only the challenge results had been announced. No one knew the details, and none of these kids had been around to see me get taken out of the arena on a stretcher. If someone was out there spreading rumors about me, I wanted that nipped right in the bud.
“The other initiates said you hurt your core,” Furendo, a little guy with dirty fingernails and a cowlick with a mind of its own, answered in a voice so low I almost missed it. “They said anyone who follows your path will die.”
I had no idea who would tell impressionable young initiates that load of bull, but I was determined to find out. My whole plan was to teach these kids how to find their way through the meat-grinder maze of Empyreal society. They’d come here to claim their power so they could defend themselves against the monsters who wanted to use and abuse them. And now someone had filled their heads with nonsense.
“Do I look dead?” I asked Furendo.
“You don’t look great,” Christina said.
“Thanks.” I chuckled. “I got set on fire during the challenge. But that has nothing to do with the path I follow. In fact, if it hadn’t been for my path, I would definitely be dead, and most of my friends wouldn’t have survived, either. My special core saved us all.”
That drew a few nervous smiles from the students. They’d always thought their cores made them weak. When they heard how their wounds were special, even powerful, that gave them the courage to push through the challenges ahead of them. I had to keep feeding that fire.
“And all of you have a special path to find, too.” I picked up a piece of chalk from my desk and tossed it to the back of the room, where it bounced off Christina’s desk. “Even you.”
“The other teams didn’t have anyone like you.” Ricky spread his hands out on his desk in front of him, then curled them into fists as if to gather his courage for the question he wanted to ask. “How did they get through the challenge without an Eclipse core?”
I’d thought about that question a lot while staring at the ceiling in the infirmary. It would have been nice to talk to Trulissinangoth about what her team had faced, but that hadn’t been possible with the nurses watching over me like a hawk. If they wouldn’t let my friends in, they sure as heck wouldn’t let any competitors in. What I did know was that the challenges were tailored, at least a little, to each team. While everyone had probably had to put out the darkness to win, the way they’d done that didn’t have to involve an Eclipse core. They might not have had any need to manipulate aspects at all. I explained that to Ricky and the rest of the class, or at least tried to, and they seemed to accept my reasoning.
Or, at the very least, they didn’t want to argue about it with me. I relished that small victory because I was too tired to spend all our time together fighting with them.
“Let’s start with basic channeling,” I said. “Take a deep breath, feel the sacred energy enter your core. Let any aspects you find flow into your aura, and cycle the jinsei out as you exhale.” I wondered what would have happened to me if I’d learned that technique the first time I’d been with Hahen. I certainly wouldn’t have stuffed my channels full of dangerous aspects. He wouldn’t have had to train me on the Path of the Pauper’s Dagger. I’d never have become an Eclipse Warrior.
I guess pain really does lead to growth.
The breathing exercises went perfectly, and the students were soon channeling an impressive amount of jinsei through their cores and aspects into their auras. They’d come a very long way since our first class together, and I was proud of all of them. If we’d had more time, I’d never have pushed them harder. Unfortunately, time wasn’t a commodity I had to spare. These initiates had to grow, and they had to do it before the end of the year.
“Think about your future.” I didn’t know much about guided meditation, but Professor Song had helped me take the next steps on my path like this. Thanks to him, I’d grown stronger than I’d ever thought possible. Maybe I could do the same for my initiates. “Imagine yourself standing tall and proud. Feel the power in your channels. Feel your core, whole and hearty, ready to harness the world’s sacred energy to do your bidding. In the future, you’ve found your path. You’re ready to take on any challenge the world can throw at you.”
Ricky and a few other students smiled at the images they saw with their minds’ eyes. But other members of the class furrowed their brows as they struggled to accept what I’d told them. And a few of them, like Christina, opened their eyes and pursed their lips. That last group didn’t look confused or frightened, they looked angry.
“This is stupid.” Christina bolted out of her desk and stormed toward the door. She threw it open and shoved her way past the armed guard before I could intercept her.
“Let her go,” I told the guard. She was my student. I wasn’t about to let someone else talk to her when she was so clearly upset. I hobbled after Christina and called her name until she stopped and waited for me to catch up.
“What was that all about?” I kept my voice calm and neutral. Yelling at Christina wouldn’t get me anywhere. I’d learned that early on.
“It’s dumb.” She shrugged. “All this stuff about strength and power. I’m sorry, Mr. Warin, but look at what’s happened to you. And you are powerful.”
Christina swiped angrily at the unshed tears in her eyes and turned her head away from me. I gave her the space she needed, and a few moments later she’d gathered herself and faced me with eyes as cold and hard as balls of ice.
“If I wasn’t stronger,” I said slowly and evenly, “I’d be dead. So would my friends. Strength doesn’t save you from every injury. But it will keep you alive.”
“You wouldn’t have even been in that challenge if you weren’t strong,” Christina shot back. Her cheeks were flushed with sparks of red, and her lips trembled with passion. “Your strength helped you survive, but it also put you in danger in the first place!”
“It’s not that simple.” It was time to tell Christina the truth. “You have to heal your core by the end of the year. All of you do. If you don’t, you may never get another chance to be whole.”
“I was whole.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “Our families worked hard for everything we had. But it made sense. We knew what to do, and we knew how to do it. Here, I don’t know anything.”
“Trust me.” I reached out for Christina, but she jerked away from my hand. “I’ll teach you. Work with me, and you’ll have more power than you’ve ever dreamed possible. You can help your family.”
“Like you helped your mother?” Her words burned like acid. “It’s not a secret, Mr. Warin. None of us wants that life
. We don’t want your power. We want to go home.”
She stormed past me, back to the classroom, and slammed the door behind her.
The Spies
HAGAR FINALLY SHOWED up outside my door near the end of March. I invited her in and took a seat in the desk chair so she could sit on the bed if she wanted. Though my handler had recovered from her wounds, there was a shadow in her eyes that told me things were far from good wherever she’d been.
“You got your wish.” She raised a hand before I could get too excited. “Not your mother. The dragons didn’t do a very good job hiding their training grounds. If you’re ready, we can be there in half an hour.”
That was good news. I’d never seen the dragons in action, and the idea of going up against them without any information made me very nervous. A peek at their training would go a long way toward putting my mind at ease. Especially with our resident dragon expert along for the ride.
“Let me find Niddhogg, then we can go.” I’d have liked to bring my whole team, but that seemed like a terrible idea. The more people we brought, the more likely it was that one of us would get caught and blow the whole mission. It would be much safer with just the three of us.
“You’re sure that’s a wise idea?” Hagar leaned against my wall and crossed her arms over her chest.
“He’s agreed to show me how to fight dragons,” I said. “Seems like he’s exactly who should be along for the ride.”
“Yeah, well.” Hagar frowned. “He is a dragon. What if he decides that he’d rather play for his home team?”
That didn’t seem likely to me. Niddhogg had made it clear that the dragons who’d raised him were on his list of people to punch in the throat if he ever saw them again. They’d abandoned him to his fate after they’d learned that he’d never grow to his full size. If it hadn’t been for the School of Swords and Serpents taking him in, the diminutive flying lizard wouldn’t have survived.
“He’s not going to side with the dragons.” I shook my head. “And don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll be very insulted.”
“Your call.” Hagar feigned a yawn. “I’m still beat from all the running around they’ve got me doing. Go find your little dragon buddy. I’ll catch a nap here.”
“You could let me help you,” I suggested. “With the clan business, I mean. That’d keep me in the loop and let you get the rest you need.”
“Nice try.” Hagar really yawned this time. “You know you’re on restricted duty for the time being. Until we can bring your mom in, there’s no way Sanrin or the others will let you back out in the field.”
My mother, the terrorist. It made me crazy to think she was out there doing awful things for reasons I couldn’t begin to understand. If I could just talk to her...
“Get out of here,” Hagar ordered. “We don’t have all the time in the world. Our window to check out dragonland is closing soon.”
“I’ll be right back.” I left my room behind and willed the School to take me to Niddhogg. The little dragon liked to hang out around the initiate dormitory, where he could keep an eye on the new students and make sure none of them got into trouble. As the School opened new pathways to me and led me around its interior, though, we weren’t headed for any of the dormitory towers. The path led me down to the main entry, then through a door I’d never seen before. Still, the hallway past that new portal was familiar. Empty display stands that had once held fantastic armor and weapons lined the corridor. Another heavy door blocked the end of the passage, and it swung open with surprising ease when I placed my hand on it. I couldn’t believe where I was.
“You certainly know how to spoil a surprise,” Hahen called from the far side of the laboratory. Niddhogg was perched on the table next to them. “We didn’t want you to see this until it was ready for your students.”
The room I found myself in was unmistakably Tycho’s old laboratory, where I’d slaved away under Hahen’s watchful eye. The tables and racks that had once held so much equipment were empty, and the filthy floors had been scrubbed to a sparkling white shine. I’d never known what the floor’s original color was and was surprised that the spirit and the dragon had managed to get the place so clean.
“My apologies, honored Spirit.” I bowed low, then crossed the room to meet my small friends. “I didn’t mean to spoil your surprise. I do need to borrow Niddhogg, though.”
“Very well, I’ll finish all this on my own,” Hahen groaned. “Thank you for your assistance in routing the plumbing, honored Dragon.”
The two of them bowed to one another in what I found to be a surprisingly formal display of mutual respect. Judging by the look of the room, they’d been working on this for quite some time. I wanted to ask Hahen what he meant about the plumbing, but there wasn’t time. I needed to get back to Hagar to spy on the dragons.
“I’ll have him back soon,” I promised. “And thank you for this. It means a lot to me.”
“You’re very welcome, Jace.” Hahen’s back stiffened with pride. “Wait until you see it completed.”
“I look forward to it.” With that, I led Niddhogg out of the laboratory and started the walk back to my room.
“What’s this all about?” the dragon asked as he fluttered along beside me.
“Dragon stuff,” I said. “I need your advice. And your expertise.”
“I’ll do the best I can,” Niddhogg promised. “They exiled me, and I’ve been studying them ever since. If this is a chance to make them pay, you can bet I’ll give it my all.”
Vengeance might not be the most honorable pastime, but it is effective. By the time we’d reached my dorm room, Niddhogg had explained a dozen different ways that he’d like the dragons to pay for what they’d done to him. Starting, of course, with me beating them in the challenge so they could never gain control of the Grand Design. It was a little disturbing to hear the tiny dragon so enthusiastic over all the mayhem he wanted to inflict on the Shambala team.
“Let’s just spy on them for now.” We’d reached my room, and I rapped on the door to let Hagar know I was on my way in.
“Awesome, you’re here.” Hagar looked like she hadn’t even sat down much less taken a nap. Despite that, she looked refreshed. “Let’s go see a man about some dragons.”
Hagar gave my hand a quick squeeze as she passed me in the doorway, then gestured for me to keep up with her. We were out of the student dorms in no time at all and were soon winding our way toward an area of the school I recognized. Sure enough, Hagar opened the door to her secret meeting room and ushered Niddhogg and me into the cramped space. Someone had taken time to cover all the machinery with drop cloths, and I didn’t hear so much as a humming power plant, much less the chorus of beeps and whirs that had filled the room the last time I’d been here. There was, however, a brand-new door on the wall off to my right.
“This way,” Hagar said. “Don’t get any bright ideas about coming back here to try this on your own. This portal is a loaner.”
She opened the new door to reveal a gleaming black gateway, its surface rippling like a still pond brushed by a spring breeze. Hagar stepped through the portal without a pause and vanished into its dark surface.
“Where does this lead?” Niddhogg asked.
“No clue.” I shrugged. “It’s a chance to spy on the Shambala team. I’m not going to pass it up, and I could use your help. If you’re too scared though—”
“I’m a dragon,” Niddhogg scoffed and flapped his wings. He turned to face me as he drifted backward into the portal. “I fear nothing.”
I chuckled at the diminutive dragon’s words and followed him into the darkness. There was the usual lurching sensation as my body shifted from one point in reality to another. That was followed by the disorienting sensation of being everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Hahen had once tried to explain the theory of jinsei entanglement that powered the portals, but it had never really sunk in. All I knew was that I could step through one and exit another almost anywhere in the worl
d.
Or, outside this world. The Far Horizon was only one of the many, many destinations beyond Earth’s dominion.
And, from the looks of the place I’d landed, it could have been on any one of them.
The ground was covered in a milky, opalescent mist that made it impossible to see my feet. Stone walls rose all around us and formed a natural cavern above our heads. Hagar and Niddhogg stood at the only exit. I moved carefully through the mist, probing each step before trusting my weight to it, and joined them.
“Well,” I whispered. “This is certainly something.”
The cavern was perched high up on the side of a mountain. A layer of clouds formed an impenetrable curtain a few hundred feet below us. The moon seemed impossibly close, and its silver light transformed those clouds into a glowing, slowly churning blanket. Sparks of lightning jumped through the cloud layer, and the rumble of thunder rattled us down to our bones. A single rope bridge led from the mouth of our cavern to another dark opening in the flank of another mountain ahead of us. Gusts of wind rocked the bridge from side to side. The ropes and boards creaked and clattered against one another. It sounded disconcertingly old.
“Is this thing even safe?” Niddhogg asked. “I mean, I can fly over there. But I don’t want the two of you to take involuntary skydiving lessons off this rickety old thing.”
“Let’s find out,” Hagar said merrily. She strode briskly onto the bridge, one hand on each of the ropes that supported it. The slats bent and bowed beneath her feet, and a few of them gave out alarming pops and cracks. She made it a quarter of the way across the gap without any of them falling, though. It was my turn to follow her.
“This is crazy,” Niddhogg muttered as he fluttered along behind me. “If the dragons catch us, we’ll never get out of here in one piece.”
“Maybe we should be quiet,” I said. “That’ll make it harder for them to find us.”
“Good point.” Niddhogg went silent. For all of two seconds. “It’s just, when I get nervous—”
