by Gage Lee
A young woman clad in white robes woven with intricate designs in metallic golden thread occupied the chair to her right. Her almond-shaped eyes were ringed by thick bands of black kohl drawn out to sharp tips at her temples. A circle of jinsei sprites, every color of the rainbow, danced around her head in a glowing halo of prismatic lights. She was the team leader of the Dojo of Opal Radiance. As an initiate, she was far below my power level. Despite that, there was a wisdom in her eyes and a strangeness to her aura that warned me not to underestimate her.
To the left of the Heron Blade Academy’s leader sat a shirtless man. He was the second biggest person in the room, and his chiseled muscles rippled when he turned his head to look at Clem and me. He stared at us with openly hostile eyes, and the golden headband that held back his long white hair gleamed with threads of jinsei. His hands were clenched into fists on the table in front of him, and I noted the heavy calluses across his knuckles. He was a brawler from the Battle Hall of Atlantis, stronger and more powerful than most, but still only an adept.
I made a mental note to keep an eye on him. If things got out of hand, he’d be the first to attack.
And the first one I’d take down if things got ugly.
A tall, thin man sat on the far-right end of the table. His silver robes flowed like water when he shifted his position to get a better look at me. He seemed amused by the whole situation and gave me a conspiratorial wink rather than a hostile glare. His enormous ax rested on the table in front of him, and I recognized him as the leader of the Jinsei Institute of the Jade Kingdom. His weapon could have been threatening, but something about the way he rested his hand lazily on its hilt made it seem more like a prop joke than something to be feared.
A man wearing a horned helmet that hid his face was hunkered over the other end of the table. Trickles of black smoke leaked from the helm’s curved metal horns, and it trailed down onto the floor next to his chair. Thick white furs cloaked him from shoulders to feet, and though he had no weapons, he looked like a man to be feared. His hands were relaxed on the table before him, scars crisscrossing their knuckles. He was the biggest person in the room, and his aura was filled with strange and feral aspects.
I instinctively knew that he and I had more in common with each other than with the rest of these people. We’d survived things, seen things, the others couldn’t understand. Whatever else the Bright Lodge of Frostmir’s leader might be, he was a survivor.
“Welcome, Jace Warin, leader of the School of Swords and Serpents team,” the woman in the center of the table finally greeted us. “And welcome, Clem Hark, his second. Please, have a seat. We wish to hear what you have to say.”
My feet sank into the carpet with every step I took toward the table. My eyes scanned the room for any threats. If they wanted to kill us, this room, warded against spying, was the perfect place to do just that.
“Don’t be so paranoid,” I muttered to myself. Clem and I took our seats, and I gave each of the other team leaders a short nod of my head instead of a bow. We were all of the same station. Bowing would only show weakness, while the nod indicated respect. I waited for all of them to nod to us in return, then jumped right into my pitch.
“You can’t beat the dragons,” I said confidently. “I’ve seen them training, and they’ll wipe the floor with any of our teams.”
“We’ll see,” the Bright Lodge’s team leader said. “My people have a long history of slaying dragons.”
“And you are?” I asked. “I’m sorry, you have me at a disadvantage. I’m afraid while you all know my name, I’m not familiar with any of you.”
That not-so-subtle jab told them we weren’t on even footing. I’d toured the world as the School’s champion. I’d taken on the best new students every major city in the world had to offer, and I’d beaten them all, in front of farcaster audiences that numbered in the millions. And, of course, I’d thwarted a major terrorist attack in Kyoto just last year. None of the people who sat across from me were known outside their schools.
“I am Aesgir Lundy, team leader of the Bright Lodge,” the man in the horned helmet said.
“And I am Aoyama Tochi,” the man on the opposite end of the table said. “They teach us many things in the Jinsei Institute. One of those is to know our limits. I would agree with Jace. The dragons cannot be bested by any of us in this room. Not even the famous Eclipse Warrior.”
“I am Marissa Vasquez of the Heron Blade Academy,” the young woman at the center of the table said, nodding to me again, “and I do not wish to speak of loss. My team has trained hard, and our techniques grant us insight few share. I believe we have a fair chance against the dragons.”
“With all due respect,” Clem said quietly, “I don’t believe you do. Jace has told me about the dragons’ training methods. Their team is stronger and faster than we are, and they have advantages none of us shares.”
“I am Tsu Jang from the Dojo of Opal Radiance,” the young woman to Marissa’s right said. “If we can’t beat them, then there is no point in continuing this challenge. Let’s save our teams and hold our honor intact by admitting what is already a foregone conclusion. We stand to gain nothing by fighting the dragons, and we can lose a great deal. Perhaps if we show them that we accept their righteous rule, they will show mercy to our schools when they become the guardians of the Grand Design.”
Tsu Jang had to understand that letting the dragons win was not an option. They’d overthrow centuries of human rule and turn us all into serfs beneath their claws. The fact that the leader from the Dojo of Opal Radiance would even entertain such an idea rankled me.
“The dragons won’t show mercy to anyone,” I said. “They hate us. They ruled this planet for far longer than humans have existed. To them, we’re a mote of dust in history’s eye. A momentary irritation to be swept aside when they resume their reign as guardians of the Flame.”
“What is it you think we should do?” the bare-chested man asked. “I’m Achilles Torov, by the way.”
“We have to work together,” I said.
“Work with you?” Achilles scoffed. “You really think that’s going to happen? We should be training with our teams right now, not wasting our time with this meeting. I thought you’d come here with something real to offer us, but you just want us to help you win the Gauntlet.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t care if my team wins. But if we don’t work together, the dragons will definitely win.”
“Achilles is right,” Marissa said. “This feels like a trap. I don’t know why I expected any more from an Eclipse Warrior. Your kind betrayed us all once, and it appears you are no better.”
I didn’t know where all this hostility was coming from, but I didn’t like it. I’d come with a good-faith offering of information that the rest of the teams could use. If we worked together, we could beat the dragons. But if we kept fighting each other, we were all dead.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, or who you get your information from,” I said, “but I’m not your enemy. If it wasn’t for me, the whole world would be overrun by hungry spirits right now.”
“That’s what he told us you’d say,” Jang scoffed. “Jace Warin, hero of the world. But we know the truth, and we won’t be swayed by your lies.”
Someone had been talking to the other teams about me. The urge to lunge across the table and wring the answers out of Jang surged inside me.
Clem glanced my way nervously and gave me a short shake of her head. That told me more than I wanted to know. My eyes felt heavy, and I knew the black glow of my anger was on the verge of breaking through.
Unlike my initiates, these team leaders wouldn’t be moved by fear. I had to give them something else.
“Fine,” I said. “If you don’t want to work with me, you can at least work together. The dragons are strong, but there’s a short window of time when you can hit them—”
Tochi’s ax fell off the table and onto the carpet with a loud thump.
“Oh,�
� he said, “sorry, pardon me. My ax. It’s so big, you know. Let me just pick it up.”
He looked straight at me the whole time he talked and gave me a quick smile when he’d replaced his ax on the table.
I had no idea what that was all about.
“I knew this would be a waste of time,” Marissa snapped. “We’d all hoped you’d come to your senses and had requested this meeting to tell us you would withdraw from the challenge. Inquisitor Rhône thought you might quit when you didn’t receive your reward from the last challenge. I’ll have to inform him you’ve decided to pursue your foolish hope of winning the Gauntlet.”
My eyes narrowed at the sound of the Rhône’s name. I should have known he’d come here with darker designs than snatching the hollows for the Church. My hands tightened into fists, knuckles crackling with the urge to throttle him.
“Why would Elushinithoc allow Rhône to keep our rewards from us?” The dragons hated the Church. It made no sense for them to help the inquisitor.
“Because,” Aesgir sneered, “you can’t win this, Jace. You won’t even make it to the third challenge.”
A dark, threatening tone coiled under Aesgir’s words like a snake about to strike. A tingle of power passed through the medallion stitched across my sternum. Surely they weren’t about to attack me.
“Oh, I’ll be at the end,” I said. “But I wonder how the rest of you will fare without my team to help you. None of you is as strong as we are. The dragons will kill you all if you go up against them.”
“I very much doubt that,” Marissa said with a venomous smile. “Much more powerful people than any of us have already decided how this will play out.”
“What are you talking about?” I snapped. “The dragons won’t let anyone decide their path for them. If the five of you have an agreement, fine. Let me tell you how to beat the dragons. I don’t care who wins this thing as long as it’s not them.”
“You see,” Achilles said quietly, “that is where you fail, Jace. You don’t understand the way things are beyond the glorious halls of the School of Swords and Serpents. All this luxury has made you soft and weak.”
The implication that I was some sort of privileged Empyreal who’d lived my life swaddled in luxury didn’t sit well with me. I stared at the table, my hands clenched on the arms of my chair, eyes burning with black fire. I didn’t care if they knew I was mad. They’d already made up their mind about me.
“If you think I’m some coddled rich kid, you’re crazy,” I said. “I was born in the labor camps. Were any of you? Achilles, you’re from Atlantis.”
It was no secret that the Atlanteans were the wealthiest of all Empyreals. Secluded on their island kingdom, surrounded by the trappings of the Grand Design’s church, none of them had ever known a single moment of hunger or need. Their lives were founded on the sweat and labor of others and always had been.
“You were from the camps,” Marissa said. “Now you’re from privilege. Let me ask you something. How many students attend the School of Swords and Serpents?”
“A little over three hundred,” Clem answered instantly. “With another hundred or two from the sixth and seventh years on top of that. It’s hard to say, because those students are always out and about on research and field trips.”
All the other team leaders nodded, as if that had made Marissa’s point for her.
“What difference does that make?” I asked. “The size of the school doesn’t mean anything. It’s the best academy not because it has a ton of students, but because it only accepts the best.”
“It’s also funded by taxes taken from the rest of us,” Marissa explained. “The Heron Blade Academy has twenty-five students. We have three teachers. Our school is a single classroom.”
“The Dojo of Opal Radiance has fifteen students,” Jang chimed in. “It’s in a tiny office in the heart of Hong Kong.”
“And the rest of you come from small schools, too?” I addressed the question to Achilles. There was no way the Battle Hall of Atlantis was that small.
“Didn’t you just say it wasn’t the size of the school that mattered?” Achilles shot back. “What we’re trying to tell you, Jace, is that not all of us are happy with the status quo. Some of us would welcome a change. And, maybe, the dragons are the ones who will give us that change.”
“You’re going to throw the competition.” My hands were so tight on the chair’s arms that they creaked. “Rhône’s calling the shots for your schools.”
All the other team leaders nodded. Tochi’s eyes were clouded with uncertainty, and he flicked his gaze from me to Clem to the floor and then back again. I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, and I didn’t care. I’d just learned that most of the students entrusted with defending humanity were traitors.
It made a sick sort of sense. The people at the top of the Empyreal food chain weren’t ever going to let go of the reins of power they held over the rest of us. As the heretics became more outspoken and waged more successful attacks, the Temple of the Grand Design was losing its hold on the political landscape. The Inquisition and its oracles had seen a dark change in their fates, so they’d cut a deal with the dragons. Atlantis would come out of this just fine, and they’d likely promised their allies the same.
And the School of Swords and Serpents would suffer because we hadn’t gotten in line to sell out the rest of the world to the dragons.
“Whatever the Scaled Council told you, it’s a lie,” I insisted. “As soon as dragons are in charge, they’ll turn on you.”
“When you’re already on the bottom,” Marissa said, “the only way to go is up. Brother Rhône told us all about the agreement he’s made with the dragons. Our school’s masters have agreed that his plan is sound. This is a done deal. When the new challenge begins, you won’t be there to compete. And the rest of us won’t stop the dragons from winning.”
“So just go home,” I said. “I’ve already admitted I can’t beat the dragons by myself. What does it matter if the rest of you are even here if you’re not going to fight?”
“Appearances,” Achilles said through a smug smile. “The world needs to see us try. They need to believe that the dragons won because they are the best suited for this job. Which they are. We just can’t take any chances of someone like you getting lucky and upsetting the plan.”
“I’m just here to kill dragons,” Aesgir said. “Maybe I won’t win, but I will kill one of them. Its horns will go on my wall.”
“They don’t even have horns,” I said. “They’re younglings. They won’t be full dragons for years. Killing a kid from Shambala won’t prove anything.”
“It will prove I’ve killed a dragon,” the horned man said. “And that is all that I came here to do.”
“Wait,” Clem said emphatically. “What you’re saying betrays everything that we stand for. Students of the academies are supposed to protect humanity.”
“This is protecting humanity,” Marissa said sharply. “There are rebels in the streets. The Flame’s temples are attacked. While you sit here in this school, the rest of us have to deal with the fallout from that. The heretics will destroy everything if they aren’t stopped. They’ll unravel the entire Design and then where will we be?”
“Free,” I nearly shouted. “If the Design isn’t strong enough to save you from the heretics, what makes you think the dragons can?”
“Withdraw from the challenge,” Jang demanded. “Save your honor. Explain that your wounded core makes it impossible for you to continue. You’ll be allowed to remain at the School and complete your training. You may even be rewarded for your wisdom.”
“I’ll get word to the Church’s leaders.” I was grasping at straws. “I’ll go over the Inquisition. Someone has to stop this.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Achilles sneered. “The factions within the Church that want this to succeed will choke your message before it reaches anyone who will care. Nothing you say will make any difference. Your fate has been decided, Jace. Fighti
ng it will only make you look like a fool as well as a loser.”
“I’m not giving up.” I bolted up from the table and slammed my fist onto its black lacquered surface. “The rest of you can roll over for the dragons, but I won’t. I will be at the third challenge. And I’m going to win.”
The rest of the team leaders stood as well. They looked at me with a mixture of pity and anger. Marissa even had some sympathy in her eyes when she spoke.
“I know you think you can defeat any enemy, that you can overcome any challenge,” she said. “And, so far in your life, you have. But forces that are much more powerful than you will ever be have already decided the outcome of this challenge, Jace. It’s over. You will not win the Gauntlet.”
The other leaders filed out of the room in silence. I watched them go, looking for some signs in their eyes that any of them could be swayed to join me.
I got nothing.
I’d lost, and I hadn’t even known it.
The Prize
CLEM STARED AT ME IN utter shock. I felt as surprised as she looked. The idea that the Church of the Empyrean Flame would forfeit everything to the dragons had seemed inconceivable just minutes ago. They’d clung to power for millennia, guiding the footsteps of Empyreals through the ages. They ruled the first city at Atlantis, and their edicts controlled the rest of the world. What possible reason could they have to let all that fall through their grasp?
“They don’t believe you can defeat the dragons,” Clem said. “It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
I stalked around the room and struggled to understand what we’d just heard. There was a piece missing. I had to figure out what, and soon. The third challenge was coming; the rest of the students had said as much.
