Subterfuge: A Cultivation Academy Series (Bastion Academy Book 3)

by J D Astra

  “Got audio on a quarter of them. Speak and I will direct your words,” Mae said.

  I took a deep breath and played the images on repeat. “Brothers and sisters of Kokyu,” I began in their native tongue. “Dokun Yamamotto is not the man he claims to be. He would offer you peace, but in the shadows, he would steal your liberty. He would offer you protection, but for it, he would take your autonomy. He wants to ban the use of munje—”

  “Tungpah!” Mae shouted.

  I kept the images playing. “What?”

  “I lost it, the whole connection. His AI—Kento, I’ve come to learn—has completely locked us out.”

  The little implants around the city were nearly out of munje, but I played the image of him tossing Ko-nah over and over. I clenched my teeth and watched in stunning clarity. Ko-nah’s head snapped against the wall, and he dropped to the ground. His chest didn’t move, and his eyes were open wide.

  “He took the Nevermore potion,” Mae reminded me as blood pooled around Ko-nah’s head in my mind.

  I nodded, feeling the munje in the devices run dry. “I hope that was enough.”

  “They must know where we are by now. There’ll be more Enjiho coming,” Woong-ji said. “We did everything we could.”

  “Down there,” a voice said from far off in the station. It must’ve been the guard. He hadn’t mustered the courage to come fight us himself but would point destruction our way.

  “Dispatch,” I said.

  I pulled the wire from my chest and stashed Mae’s second device in the inner lining of my robe. Woong-ji performed a quick reflection spell to hide us, then we charged down the hall. An army of metal boots marched toward us from around the corner, and we pressed ourselves against the wall. The Dispatch room was near.

  Six Enjiho jogged around the corner and charged toward Operations. We slipped into the Dispatch room where at least thirty offline Enjiho were lined up in five rows. They were hooked into the ceiling by long cables that ran to a fuel station.

  I moved toward the first six Enjiho in the row and released bits of ma munje into them. Four were so low on power they couldn’t be activated, but two were fueled up and ready to be used. I released the red uw into their systems, instantly converting their ma munje for my use.

  I channeled my movements through the machina and reached overhead. Both Enjiho responded, grabbing hold of the wires linking them to the building. I ripped them free, then dropped one Enjiho to its knees.

  “Climb on this one,” I said.

  “Just because I look like a frail old woman doesn’t mean I am one,” Woong-ji protested, then infused her muscles with zo in a single breath.

  The footsteps of the Enjiho squad were just outside the room. I spun on my heel and locked my triple vision on the door ahead. The Enjiho under my command stepped around us, and I dropped into a combat stance.

  The door opened and I didn’t hesitate, punching the first enemy machina to present itself with my controlled Enjiho. They stumbled back, and I used both my Enjiho to make a hole. The triple vision was even more sickening than double, but with both machina responding to my body movements, I only had to worry about one operation.

  I punched, kicked, and shoved the other Enjiho back to make room for our escape. The operators had some training in hand-to-hand combat but relied too heavily on their tricks to subdue humans—which were completely ineffective against machina. They sprayed a spicy mist I could feel in my eyes even from a distance and deployed shocking mechanisms to no effect.

  I picked up the enemies and tossed them at one another, landing all six in a heap near the Operations room. We made a break for the front door, but the Enjiho were much faster than we were. I aligned the bots behind us and activated the short, chest-attached arms of the Enjiho, then scooped myself and Woong-ji up into the machina’s arms. My head ached from the complexity of the situation, but once I was secured in the Enjiho’s arms, I focused only on making the bots run.

  ‘Mae, can you route to rendezvous?’ I asked when we made it out to the street.

  A blue display appeared over both views from the Enjiho and pointed us toward escape. Citizens ambled about on the streets, confused and scared. Trains roared by overhead on their way to who knew where.

  “How far?” Woong-ji asked.

  “Twenty-five kilometers,” I replied. The Enjiho’s fuel wouldn’t last that long, and there was no way my munje would be enough to power them, but we had them for now.

  We jostled down the middle of the street, our machina striding in long and wide leaps, which made them almost as fast as Se-hun’s motorbikes. A trio of trains slowed when they passed us, then turned and dropped lower, but did not land. The door opened, and an Enjiho with two red stripes and a gold star leaned out.

  “Stop, enemies of Kokyu! We don’t want to kill you, but we will if we must.” Dokun’s voice projected from the machina.

  I slowed and raised the long, outer arms on the Enjiho to shield us from view—and projectiles. The enemy dropped from the trains that hovered just a few meters up. My blood raced through my veins as I considered the idiotic next step.

  ‘Help me with the math, would you?’ I asked and shared my vision with Mae.

  “You’re suicidal, I’m sure of it.”

  The red-striped Enjiho landed with a thud a few meters off, then approached. They were all still far enough away that we could escape, if we acted now.

  ‘You have a better idea?’ I asked, sweat gathering at the nape of my neck.

  “I don’t. Say a quick prayer to Jigu.”

  I let Mae take control of my munje in the converted Enjiho. She grabbed Woong-ji and me by the backs of our robes and, in two leaping dashes, pulled us back like balls to be thrown. I kept my eyes open wide as we launched through the air toward the open train door.

  The final enemy dropped from the opening, and before they closed, Woong-ji sailed into it. I hit the edge of the door and slammed to the floor of the train. The air whoofed from my lungs, and I gasped at the pain in my ribs. Woong-ji grabbed my arm and yanked me in before the doors shut.

  I climbed to my feet, then unleashed half of my remaining uw munje into the train. “Mae, can you learn to fly?” I wheezed.

  “Already did,” she said.

  The train engine whirred, and we lifted into the air.

  “How?” I asked.

  She hummed. “I may have stolen a few operations manuals from Yamato Corp.”

  “Our luck continues,” I said, and looked out the window.

  The Enjiho below shrank away, all but two of the red-striped Enjiho scrambling to get back into the two remaining trains. We reached a safe altitude and the train engine really roared, preparing to enter the swift travel.

  “Hold on tight,” Mae warned, but not fast enough.

  The train blasted off toward Moon Shadow and tossed me to the ground. I grabbed a seat and pulled myself up, wincing at the pain still radiating through my chest.

  “Brace for impact!” Mae said.

  The back of the train pitched forward, tossing me yet again. Something in my chest snapped. I couldn’t stop from cursing as I picked myself up once more.

  “What is that?” I demanded.

  “The red-stripped Enjiho. They’re designed for bursts of flight.” Mae said.

  A fist-shaped dent appeared in the side panel with a bang, then another. The Enjiho leaned around the window, trying to look inside. I dropped out of view and placed my hand against the wall, then unleashed another spell of uw. I didn’t waste time taking control and sucking all the ma munje from its systems.

  The Enjiho went limp and dropped away from the train, cartwheeling back to the city. It hit a building, ripping it open and scattering chunks of stone to the streets below. I knew it was naïve to hope that hadn’t hurt someone. I just prayed to Jigu I hadn’t killed anyone.

  I wheezed, tasting blood in the back of my throat from my ribs poking my lungs.

  “Sit. Heal.” Woong-ji pushed me down into the c
ushioned chair, then fixed her eyes on our surroundings.

  I pulled one of the energy potions from my pocket and downed it. The munje enhancing potion sped through my veins and lit a fire in my stomach that burned to be used. I visualized my core and its three interlocking bands. It hurt to breath deep, so I took short, shallow breaths to align my bands. I twisted the sphere around and around until all three zo blocks lined up with the crystal.

  The excess energy from the potion poured through my bands with every breath, and powerful zo leaked out the bottom. I sent the munje to my ribs first and then sought out any other damage I’d incurred and not noticed. It was a short session, but it was all I could spare.

  “Coming up on the location. I’m seeing a lot of activity in the area,” Mae remarked.

  I moved to stand next to Woong-ji at the front.

  We were almost over Somna, and it was easy to see—even at our height—that things were not right in the streets. Fires raged in the older, wood-constructed buildings, people ran from the destruction, Enjiho marched in force. Whether the Enjiho were helping or corralling the masses for imprisonment, only Dokun knew.

  A sick, sinking feeling overwhelmed my body, taking away my strength. I dropped back to the seat. “We failed,” I whispered.

  Woong-ji smiled down at me, then put her machina leg up on the chair. She tapped the empty calf socket. “Not yet.”

  I pulled out the storage device with all the plans and information, then offered it to her. She stopped short of grabbing the machina piece, and her gaze snapped back to the window.

  Her smile faded. “More flying sangomnyon incoming.”

  I turned to see ten dots flying up from Dokun’s building and stuffed Mae’s secondary device into my pants pocket. “Take us down, Mae. We have to go on foot.”

  The train decelerated much too abruptly, sending Woong-ji and me to the front. We dropped out of the sky, and my stomach squeezed with a loss of gravity. I gulped back the nausea and held tight to a support beam. We fell below the rooftops of the tallest buildings and slowed even more.

  Outside, people fled with haphazardly packed bags, holding tight to the hands of their children as they ran. They cleared a space and Mae set us down with a knee-buckling thud. She opened the doors, and the sounds of terror rushed into the little space. My hands trembled but I kept moving.

  I pulled off my robes, leaving only the skin-tight black shirt and pants. Woong-ji discarded her Bastion robe as well, revealing that she indeed was not an old, fragile woman beneath the surface. The skin-tight black shirt and pants outlined her muscled frame, and I looked at my master in a new light. Even at her age, her body was as strong as mine—likely stronger.

  We crept through side alleys and under low bridges until we made it to the secluded meeting point behind Hana’s favorite noodle shop. The screams of citizens out in the street made it hard to think, but I keep my calm with slow breathing.

  I whistled low and long, then trilled: our signal.

  There was no reply.

  I did it again. We waited, but heard nothing in return. Nothing but the sounds of Enjiho footsteps marching through the alley. Had they been captured, or were they running behind?

  I looked to Woong-ji, panic swelling in me. “I don’t have a plan.”

  “Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand. “I do.”

  Chapter 38

  WITHIN MINUTES, WOONG-ji had led us all the way back to Moon Shadow. We were cloaked in a strong ry glimmer, dampening our sound and hiding us from sight. The area was teeming with Moon Shadow students, all of them searching through bushes and trees.

  It was likely they were searching for us, so we kept out of sight. We raced across the grounds and past the gardens to the steps of the school with the frantic students none the wiser. Long River, my initiation group, stepped out from the front of the building.

  “Jiyong, Shin-soo, both their escort instructors, and the boy Aki are still missing,” Yin—the oldest of Long River—said. “Grandmaster thinks they’ll try to come back to get the others, and we need to capture them. Got it?”

  “Yes, Yin-senpai,” the others of Long River said together.

  “Find them all,” Ena yelled through speakers lining the lower walls of the school. “We must bring every last one of the assassins to justice.”

  “Assassins?” Roku asked with a queasy look.

  Yin sighed. “Their attacks have killed several of King Hisachi’s political rivals, and maybe Yamamotto-sama. But...” He trailed off.

  I clenched my fists, wanting to punch the lie out of Yin’s mouth.

  “Did you see the broadcast?” Kago asked. “It was Yamamotto-sama hurting a boy who looked like Aki. I mean, it looked like he’d killed him.”

  Roku clenched his fists, shaking with frustration. “I know Grandmaster said they’re dangerous, but we know Jiyong, don’t we?”

  Yin shook his head. “Hardly.”

  “But he wouldn’t kill people. Right?” Kago asked, his brow furrowed.

  Yin put a hand on each boy’s shoulder. “Look for them, but do not fight. You’re no match for their power. If you find them, call for me. Let’s help keep our school safe,” he ordered, sending them off to patrol. He stood on the entrance steps, arms crossed, with a hawk-like gaze combing the yard.

  Keep the school safe. That was exactly what I had wanted, I reminded myself. I released my anger and relaxed my muscles. He’d been lied to and believed all this was to protect his home. I would’ve done the same. But this loyalty didn’t bode well for all of Kokyu. How were they going to believe our far-fetched, treacherous truth over Dokun’s kind lies?

  Woong-ji tapped my shoulder, then grabbed my hand. I couldn’t see her, but she led me down the side of the building until we reached the large windows of the dining hall. She cracked one and peered inside, then opened it all the way.

  She vaulted through the window with a single fluid jump, and I followed suit, then closed it behind us. I stopped when I noticed the mud on the ground and reached out for my master. We pulled off our shoes, and I grabbed a nearby cushion to hide the marks.

  Only the muffled creaks of the wood floor could be heard as we sped through the halls to Ena’s office. The doors were guarded by two Enjiho. I smirked. Like a ghost, I snuck up behind the bots and injected them with the last of my uw.

  “Ena is mine,” Woong-ji whispered.

  I recalled how easily Ena had backhanded Woong-ji across the room and my palms clammed up. I didn’t want to leave her to a horrible fate like that. “I’ll stay out of the way,” I said, though planned very much to get in the way if my master was in danger.

  I turned the Enjiho toward the door, and with one fluid motion, pulled them open. The Bastion students were bound and unconscious on the floor, save for Hana, Cho, and Yuri. My blood ran hot when I saw Hana strung up by the wrists with uw munje at the back of the room next to Ena. The Grandmaster had all three of them detained in the same hold I’d seen Hana trapped by last year after her duel with Shin-soo. My friends were stripped down to only undergarments, and their skin ran red with blood.

  I barreled into the room with the machina, ready to throw punches at anything and everything. Ena’s goons advanced on my bots in my periphery. I unleashed the spicy spray directly into their faces, and they reacted as I’d hoped, bringing their hands up to their eyes. I pulled the anti-munje cuffs from the compartment on my chest and slapped them over their wrists, then punched both men so hard I heard their chests crack from the hall.

  Woong-ji ended her glimmer, revealing us in the doorway.

  “Monster,” I yelled from the inferno of anger in my stomach.

  Ena hummed with amusement. “I didn’t just kill two men.”

  I looked at the bodies of the goons on the floor. Their chests were caved in and eyes wide. My breath caught in my throat, and I hesitated. I had killed them without a second thought.

  Ena twisted her fingers and the red uw flowed back into her body from my friends. Cho and Y
uri dropped to the floor, but Hana stood on wobbling legs. She took a sloppy offensive stance, but Ena pushed her to the ground with a single finger.

  “Sit. It’ll all be over soon.”

  My Enjiho moved forward, fueled by my rage.

  Ena gathered her power about herself in a dark cloud and charged my bots.

  Wind ruffled my hair, and Woong-ji collided with Ena in a burst of blinding blue. A shockwave burst out, lifting dust from the wood floors and sending everything in its path reeling back. I stumbled, then hit the ground, shielding my eyes.

  When the smoke settled, Woong-ji had Ena trapped in a blue-gold sphere.

  “What is this foul magic?” Yin asked behind me.

  I whirled, prepared to fight, but Yin wasn’t looking at me.

  “What have you done to the Bastions?” he yelled at Ena.

  “Jiyong, you must go,” Woong-ji said, her voice strained. She held her arms out, fueling the munje spell from a glowing point in her stomach.

  Yin grabbed my arm. “Jiyong.”

  I pulled myself from his grasp. “I came here to save Kokyu, not destroy it. Everything else has been... a mistake.”

  I lifted the Enjiho back to their feet and ran to my friends. I picked up Yuri and Cho with the bots, then scooped Hana up into my arms. She looked so frail, as if she’d been drained of her very lifeforce.

  I looked around at the unconscious Bastion students on the floor. I couldn’t leave them like this. I bit back anger and devastation. A clear head was the only thing that could get us through this.

  My heartbeat quickened, and I looked to the horrified Yin. “Senpai, I need your help to save my schoolmates. Please, they’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “You can’t escape me!” Ena screamed from her confinement.

  Woong-ji shifted, pressing more munje into her barrier. “I can’t hold her. Jiyong, you must leave!”