by J D Astra
I nodded, then explained everything. The lunch hour came in the middle of my depiction of the events, and so Min-hwan had the kitchen staff bring us something. I was grateful to eat slowly, calmly, and not upset my stomach further. I needed the energy.
As I talked, emotion returned in a manageable trickle. I was angry about Tuko, upset with myself, and worried about the future. I was scared that the Wongs had some involvement in the drug situation in the kingdom. I was desperate for a solution for my mother.
I processed the feelings and thoughts together while I talked, and by the end of it, felt just as hopeless, but less upset. The aura around us had faded away, and I knew that throughout the conversation, Min-hwan had been releasing my feelings back to me with masterful control.
Min-hwan hummed thoughtfully as my story ended. “Thank you for coming forward. I will deliberate with Woong-ji, and other trusted staff members, on the next step.”
He came around the desk and put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re never alone. Don’t forget that.”
I nodded and stood before him. “Thank you, Grandmaster.”
“He’s right in more ways than one,” Mae whispered to me as her kind, glowing face appeared in my vision. I rubbed my eyes and shook my head. I was exhausted, worse than any Zo Strengthening class had ever done.
The warning gong rang, and I took a deep breath. Just two more classes and then I could rest. Min-hwan guided me to the door. Worried, amethyst eyes greeted me on the other side and Hana reached out for me. Cho and Yuri were there, too.
“Take care of each other,” Min-hwan said kindly, then shut the door behind me.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Cho asked, gripping my shoulder as we walked down the hall.
I patted his back reassuringly. “I’m tired. I had a lot on my mind, and it all needed to come out.”
“You look like you were crying,” Yuri commented in her blunt-but-not-harsh way.
I chuckled. “We all need to cry now and then. I’m better now, thanks to Min-hwan.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? I’ve never seen you cry...” Cho trailed off.
“It’s nothing we can’t all handle together,” I said with a grim smile. “I will need help building Tuko Two.”
“Oh,” Cho said, like a punch to the gut. He understood now.
The gong for class to begin rang out, and we ran the rest of the way. We were late, and Woong-ji punished me with more machina work that evening. I was glad for it. I could talk with her while I worked and explain what had happened at the docks.
I put forth my best effort for the rest of class, but couldn’t keep my mind from wandering. Woong-ji snapped me back to attention while she was discussing expended en recycling, threatening to expel me from class for the evening. I didn’t want to let her down, so I tried harder.
Still, my thoughts drifted back to the man in the fox mask, the shimmering liquid in the crate, and the made-up memory of Tuko’s brutal beating. What was the purpose of the signal, and why did my mother’s malware transmit one too?
“Out!” Woong-ji demanded, and I jumped with a start. She glared me down as she pointed to the door. The students turned on their pillows to look at me, and my mind conjured a million excuses, but there was no point.
I bowed deeply, putting my forehead to the floor. “Yes, Master. My deepest apologies.”
I grabbed my coat and shoes as Woong-ji continued the lesson. I wandered close to Pa-ne’s room and flopped onto the floor, letting my legs spread out into the hall. I breathed deeply and I stared at the mural on the wall, focusing on the images it depicted.
It showed a woman from ancient times, dressed in shimmering blocky clothes—though we didn’t know much about what they wore in their time outside of what we found in the Ghosts. She held a device in her hand with a ry projection of a rocket ship. She pointed to the stars with her other hand, and a broad, hopeful smile lit her face.
“Looks like a shuttle launch,” Mae said as a glowing blue circle appeared in my vision over the stars. I scrutinized the spot more carefully to see the woman wasn’t pointing into nothing, but at a flame in the sky.
‘Did the ancient ones leave this planet?’ I asked.
Mae hummed. “I’m not sure what happened, but I know some humans survived whatever it was, or else you wouldn’t be here.”
Something moved far off in the corner of my vision and I scowled. I turned my head that way to catch it, but there was nothing at all. I squinted, as if I could pierce the air and reveal the movement.
“They’re there,” Mae said with suspicion. “I can sense their glimmer.”
I relaxed my posture and turned back to the mural. ‘Watch for me.’
“There’s one larger reflection glimmer that may be shielding two bodies, hard to tell. They’re on the move...”
I stood, twisting ry between my fingers to silence my steps. I shifted my breathing to keep a steady stream of munje flowing as I followed Mae’s visual cues. We were winding through the halls past the dining room when Mae groaned.
“I lost them. Whoever is casting that ry is strong, and they detected my observation,” she said in frustration. “I’m only as good as you are, so if this is something we want to do in the future, we should work on getting stealthier.”
The gong to signal the end of class rang out, and I sighed. I looked around for a moment, casting little ry dispel bubbles in dark corners, but nothing revealed itself. With defeat, I moved forward to the next intersection that would take me out to the class hall, but stopped abruptly before bumping into another student—
Ko-nah.
Chapter 34
I LOOKED BETWEEN KO-nah and the female exchange student with an apologetic smile that belied my suspicion. “Sorry about that. I should watch where I’m going.”
The exchange student turned up her nose, speaking a language I didn’t understand. Ko-nah replied in her native tongue, then turned to me. “She says no harm done, so don’t worry about it.”
“That’s not what she said,” Mae whispered.
‘Quiet.’
If this girl could hear my thoughts like Woong-ji could—and I had to assume for Mae’s safety that anyone could—I had to get us away from her.
“See you around,” I said with a gentle bow, then moved myself into the crowd of students.
“She asked, Do you think he saw, and Ko-nah replied, There was nothing to see,” Mae said with urgency as I walked toward Pa-ne’s classroom.
‘How do you know?’
“Leave it to the Japanese to maintain their language through an apocalypse. She’s from the kingdom across the sea, right? For the longest time I wasn’t sure where that was, but now I’m certain it’s Japan—or what used to be Japan. I’m familiar with several different languages because I think I worked with many different scientists. I know four: Korean, Japanese, English, and German.”
‘Why didn’t you tell me sooner?’ I asked. I strode up to the ma locked door of Pa-ne’s room.
She appeared in my vision, shrugging. “It never came up...”
‘What the hell were they doing?’
“Jiyong.” Ko-nah’s voice roused me from our conversation, and I turned to him. He chuckled with embarrassment. “So that was weird, um... I know you were following us through the halls. I’d really appreciate if you didn’t say anything to my mother about what you saw.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What did I see?”
Ko-nah blushed. “You didn’t see anything?”
“Just the glimmer. What is it I’m not supposed to tell your mother?” I asked, my ry senses coming alert to detect his lies.
Ko-nah stepped closer and looked side to side. “My mother hates the Kokyu-nans.”
“So, what?” I asked with a scowl.
“So, I was just kissing one in the halls,” Ko-nah said with hushed urgency.
Ko-nah didn’t strike me as one to win over a woman’s affection—especially one so stuck up like the exchange student. Then again, h
e was a skilled ry user.
He was a very skilled ry user.
I rolled my eyes, trying to play it off like I didn’t care. “Sure, whatever. I don’t think I’ll ever see your mother again.”
“Thanks,” he said, knocking his chest twice and holding out his knuckles.
I looked between him and the gesture as sour bile burned in my throat.
His smile slowly faded, and he dropped his hand, then his head.
We filed into class and took our seats. Pa-ne had us manipulating schematics and rebuilding delicate machina. I couldn’t let my two-class disruption slide into three, so I kept my attention on the task until class was over.
When dinner came, all I could think about was getting back to my lodge for a long rest... but I still had to see Woong-ji and work on my punishment project, and for that, I would need energy. I went through the line and only picked out my favorite foods, nutrition be damned today.
I found a table near the side wall next to the fourth-years, but they didn’t seem to mind. They had ry bubbles around their tables, turning their chatter into a senseless babble like a running stream. It was nice to sit among them and only hear ambiguous sound that need not be evaluated or listened to.
I dug into my barbequed pork belly, followed it with a huge bite of rice, and a bit of cabbage kimchi to finish it off. Hana moved through the line, her eyes looking to the normal table near the center. She scowled, then turned around and around until she found me. She smiled gently and mouthed, “Want company?”
I nodded. It wasn’t that I wanted to be alone, I just wanted out of the spotlight. Hana, Cho, and Yuri joined me, in a buzz. Cho was holding a disc in his hand with a bright grin on his face.
I doubted the fourth-year students cared about the business of a second-year, but I asked Hana to obscure us nonetheless.
“I realize we’re about to discuss a very serious topic, and you’ve had a really bad day, Jiyong, but my sister sent a reply,” he said, giddy as he produced the disc. He was obviously ecstatic, and I couldn’t ruin the moment with all this drudgery, so I urged him on.
He opened the letter and set the disc on the table for everyone to see.
My little Cho-bin-bin is a Bastion? Congratulations! I’m sorry to keep it brief, but we’re not supposed to speak to our families. That was “my old life” and I’m supposed to make a new one, here.
I wish the school didn’t have this idiotic requirement, but if I want to learn the ways to run a dangye as esteemed as the Silver Dragonfly, I have to play along. It’s always been my goal to learn the trade, get a bit of business acumen, make some connections, then open my own dangye in Pi-Ki where I teach many young boys and girls to dance beautifully. I would never make my students forget their family like the Silver Dragonfly has done to me and so many others. I will offer them a true path to Dance Art without any sacrifices.
The process has been slower than I expected, but I’m not losing hope. I’ve been promoted to lead dancer and will be graduating to the top tier at the end of this semester. This means I get insight into the business world, managing the other dancers, the money, food and drink, and so much more. It’s the last step in the school for a reason, I suppose. What would stop students from learning all the business pieces and then switching out to a cheaper school for the ry spells?
But I’m almost there little Cho.
The good news is, I can receive letters from within the kingdom, especially from the best school in Busa-nan! Ah!! Chobin! You’re a Bastion!
I have to go. Write me again soon.
I love you, Mom, and Dad, so much!
~Mae-li
I looked up from the letter to see a tear-eyed Cho with a grin brighter than the sun. He’d missed her dearly. He blinked back his tears and pulled the disc from the center of the table.
“I told you there’d be a good explanation,” I said as I put my hand on his shoulder.
He nodded, sniffling, then returned to his tea.
Hana tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You know, I was groomed to run one of the Rising Phoenix dangyes. If she wants, I could give your sister a lot of tips and connections.”
Cho’s eyes sparkled. “You would do that?”
Hana balked. “Of course. What are friends for? I don’t need this knowledge anymore, and I would love to give it to someone who would put it to good use.”
“That would mean the world to me.” Cho’s eyes watered again, and he buried himself in his tea to stop from crying.
We ate our meals in tranquility, and once I’d had my fill of pork and rice—which was admittedly less than I should’ve had—I explained in shorthand what had happened on my excursion with Tuko and the morning outing to retrieve him. Hana filled some gaps in my story, and before dinner was half over, the others were in the loop.
Yuri pinched her chin with a furrowed brow and got right to the point. “You think Ko-nah was up to no good?”
I shook my head. “It seems there’s no way to know when he’s telling the truth, but my gut says he’s not.”
Cho sniffed at his tea, then held it to Yuri. “This smell weird to you? I’m getting a strange silvery glimmer on the scent story, but I’m not sure what it is.”
She took a sniff of the cup, then a sip of the liquid. “Blech, no. It’s still tea.”
My brow knitted in confusion. “Why do you hate tea so much?”
“Are you kidding?” she asked, eyes wide. “It lacks any flavor other than bitter. It smells like roasted old socks. It feels like an inferno in my belly. Why have tea when you could have dragon fruit juice?” She lifted her bright pink cup and grinned, then downed it.
Cho scowled as he sniffed the cup again. “Honestly, I feel like working in the apothecary and all my effort in Li Alchemy should make it easier for me to tell what this is, but it’s like... obscured behind something. Or maybe I’m smelling things that aren’t there,” he said with a chuckle. “My head’s kinda fuzzy since reading that letter.”
“Feelings will do that to you,” Yuri said with a shrug.
“Jiyong? Can you tell?” Cho asked and held out the cup. He was much better with li than me, but I decided to give it a go.
I took a whiff and winced at the bitter scent. “Old socks for sure.”
But then there was a familiar shimmer in my mind’s eye...
I conjured some ry munje and took another inhale. The magic went to work telling the scent story of the tea. The leaves were plucked in the morning and dried in the afternoon sun, then kept in a dark vacuum for months. Hands reached into the darkness and pulled the leaves out, sprinkling them into a massive vat. The vat contained thick liquid that turned slowly.
I scowled. That didn’t seem right. Thick water?
I took another sniff and conjured more ry to evaluate the smell. Thick water with a silvery, opalescent shimmer. I grabbed Yuri’s empty cup and poured Cho’s tea into it.
“Hey!” Yuri demanded, but I didn’t pay her any attention. I watched the flow of the liquid. It wasn’t thick, but there was that sheen of rainbow color. My stomach dropped, and my exhausted mind came alert.
“Mae,” I whispered.
“Already evaluating,” she said aloud.
Cho’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Something’s wrong?”
“I think it’s been laced. Don’t drink any more of it,” I said. I stood and looked around the room at the number of students drinking tea; at least half. The instructors, too. And then I noticed something else.
Ko-nah and the exchange student he was with in the hall were nowhere to be seen. I kept panic in check while Mae went to work on the assessment, but couldn’t stop my heart from pounding. I looked to Min-hwan, who immediately caught my gaze. He stood and descended the stairs towards me as the dining hall hushed, the students watching as he moved away from his meal.
The fourth-year students bowed their heads and dismissed their ry bubbles as he passed. He came to a stop in front of me. “What is it?”
I looked arou
nd at all the hundreds of eyes on us, then whispered, “I have good reason to believe the tea has been tainted.” I grabbed Yuri’s cup and held it out to him. “Breathe in the story of its creation.”
The ancient man closed his eyes as he inhaled the scent of the tea. Min-hwan’s eyes zipped back and forth behind his lids, then snapped wide open. “Everyone,” he boomed with a projection of ry. “Set down your utensils and glasses. The meal may not be safe to consume. Return to your lodges for now. We will give an update within the hour.”
Murmurs rose from every table and the students looked at one another with worry. The clanking of plates and glasses came as the students left their food behind and stood to leave. The back rows departed first, and everyone was orderly.
“Evaluation complete,” Mae said to me. “There are trace amounts of malware present in your system from inhaling the steam. I’ve mobilized your ma to fight it. It’s likely that consuming an entire cup is sufficient to become infected beyond ma control. Investigating for changes in the malware signal now.”
I swallowed hard and looked down at my friend. “Cho, how many cups of tea have you had?”
His face went pale. “Three.”
“Hana?” I asked and reached out for her. She shook her head as she stood, gripping my offered hand tightly.
“Grandmaster, the tea has been laced with the malware potion I told you about. I have reason to believe that one cup is sufficient to be infected beyond control—”
“There are no changes to the signal,” Mae cut me short, and I sighed with some relief. “However, it’s possible that the Wongs are waiting to make that change until they feel dinner is sufficiently over, allowing more time for tea consumption.”
I nodded for Mae’s sake and looked back to Min-hwan. “We may see issues arise in the next thirty minutes if we do nothing.”
The hall was nearly empty now, apart from a few instructors, Woong-ji among them. Min-hwan beckoned them in closer, then looked to me. “Does she know what kind of effects might we see?”
