Shadowbound

by Gage Lee

  “You and me both.” My sister poked her index finger through a hole in her T-shirt and gestured toward a long, neat slice across the thigh of her jeans. “Couple of scrats almost got lucky.”

  My mind flashed to the wicked blades the hooded monsters carried. Judging by the gashes in my sister’s clothes, she’d been a hairsbreadth from death several times today. That idea stole the air from my lungs. I lowered my head into my hands and struggled to banish the wellspring of emotions that had opened up inside me. Biz had almost died. I’d come so close to failing her again...

  “I’m sorry,” I said at last. “I won’t leave you alone again.”

  “It’s fine,” my sister said. She twirled around on her tiptoes. “See? Not even a scratch.”

  “You did good,” I said quietly. “You took down four of them by yourself?”

  “You bet,” Biz grinned. “I got these things, too.”

  She fished in her pocket and pulled out a handful of small, pearlescent shards. They hummed, almost like ghostlight ore, and vibrated slightly in her hands. The fuzzball reached toward her hand, and Biz pushed its arm away before it could make off with a shell.

  >>>Scrat shells

  Value: One ghostlight blade

  These fragments from defeated scrats are core-advancement reagents.<<<

  “Hang on to those shells,” I told Biz. I dug the yaoguai shell I’d found out of my pocket. “Take this one, too. You can use them to advance your core. Somehow. We need to talk to the Tribunal tomorrow. After I sleep for a dozen hours.”

  “I won’t let you forget to ask about advancement again.” She grinned. “See you in the morning, bro.”

  I laid back in my bed, too lazy to crawl under the sheets or strip out of my dirty clothes, closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep almost immediately. I was so exhausted I didn’t even dream.

  When Biz and I woke the next morning, we dragged our groggy tails down to the great hall, where Baylo and Monitor were waiting with the good news that some students had regained their vision and hearing, or at least most of it. Ylor was looking for some spectacles to help those who still had trouble seeing, and Reesa had busied herself on a quest for earhorns.

  “That’s awesome!” Biz shouted. “Help us grab some breakfast to celebrate with them.”

  “I’m not a cook,” the emerald warrior grumbled. “They can feed themselves.”

  “I can’t believe you won’t give us a hand,” I said grumpily. “We don’t want a bunch of half-blind, half-deaf students stumbling around in that cramped food services room. They’ll end up making a huge mess. Listen, Biz and I’ll make the sandwiches, you load them up on trays, and—”

  “Sorry,” Baylo said. “I’ve got other stuff I need to take care of.”

  And with that, the emerald warrior took off toward the stairs up to her territory. I watched her go, my mouth hanging open. The way the Tribunal’s members ran from work, you’d think it was contagious.

  “You get the feeling the Tribunal is a bunch of babies?” Biz asked. “Any time something has to be lifted, or carried, or pushed, they can’t be bothered. I’m getting a little tired of being their errand girl.”

  “I’ll agree with that,” I muttered. “Monitor, you’ll lend us a hand, right?”

  “Of course!” the soulforged said. “That is one of my primary functions. I am to watch over the Academy, assist the engineer, and take care of whatever mundane tasks need doing.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “At least someone’s not afraid to help out around this dump.”

  The food services room was a tight fit for the three of us. Most of the space was taken up by the floor-to-ceiling cupboards that lined the walls and the stacks of clean trays and dishes neatly arranged on either side of the entrance. Feeding twenty-five people last night had burned up a lot of bread and sandwich meat, so I braced myself to take stock of what we had left. Hopefully, it would last until we could activate another, more permanent source of food.

  “Where’d all this come from?” I asked Monitor. The stores were completely filled.

  “The Ghostlight Academy provides,” Monitor explained, “This facility doesn’t merely store food, it replenishes it. How else did you think we would survive on the splinter world with no supply deliveries?”

  I hadn’t really thought of that, though I suppose I should have. I’d figured we’d survive on beads when we ran out of fresh food. If it came to that, we wouldn’t be hungry, but our diet would consist of the most boring menu ever invented.

  Not that we wouldn’t eventually get tired of the provisions in this storage room. The loaves of dark bread were tasty, if a bit tough, and there was enough sliced ham and turkey to keep us from keeling over from a lack of protein. The shelves also had plenty of tomatoes, lettuce, and spicy pickles. You could have anything you wanted at the Academy, as long as it was a ham or turkey sandwich.

  “Let’s get to work.” I grimaced at the jars stacked on the lower shelves. “But no pickles. They’re gross.”

  “You’re gross.” Biz rolled her eyes. “But I’ll take them up separately if it makes you feel better.”

  The fuzzball climbed to the top shelf and watched as I sliced bread with a knife that had come with the food storage room, my sister tore up the lettuce and arranged the cold cuts, Monitor chopped tomatoes with a surprisingly clean utility blade he’d produced from a metal pocket in his arm, and we all assembled the sandwiches on plates and stacked them on the trays. It was boring, mindless work that provided me with a pleasant distraction from worrying about our mother, trying to figure out a way to defeat the Fell Lord once and for all, and wondering how I’d ever get enough ghostlight ore gathered to go home.

  I was almost sad when we finished preparing breakfast—but only almost.

  Biz and I carried trays of food upstairs while Monitor gathered pitchers of water and glasses from another part of the Academy. I’d have to follow him one time to see where he got those, in case something happened to him. Running out of water would be a much bigger problem, much quicker, than running out of food.

  “Girlfriend!” Xin shouted when I reached the dormitory floor. She raced down the hall, grabbed a plate off my tray, and shoved half a sandwich in her mouth. Then she tapped her thumb against her chest and said the word again through a mouthful of crumbs and meat.

  Biz snickered, and I kicked her in the butt with the side of my foot. She yelped in mock surprise and pain and started down the hall to deliver food to the students who’d gathered outside their rooms. The fuzzball perched on her shoulder stuck out its tongue at me.

  “Fine, I’ll leave you alone with your girlfriend,” Biz called back.

  “Girlfriend,” Xin said quietly.

  “You need to learn some new words,” I said, then shook my head when I realized she wouldn’t understand anything that came out of my mouth.

  An hour later we’d fed everyone and stuffed our own bellies with sandwiches while Monitor drifted through the hall to make sure everyone was eating. He refilled glasses and offered spare sandwiches to hungry students, like a waitress in a short-order diner.

  The students seemed to improve with every passing minute. Only a few of them still stumbled into walls or shouted at the top of their lungs when speaking. The others had overcome the worst of the stasis shock. Even the kids Biz and I had jump-started looked fine.

  Unfortunately, none of them spoke English yet. Monitor assured us the vault refugees would fully acclimate to the school, though he couldn’t give us any details on exactly when that would happen. He also informed us that the students had all been assigned to members of the Tribunal. The green-skinned kids had all gravitated to Baylo, naturally, as had Xin and another seven students. The drem, much to my surprise, had gone with Ylor, which was intriguing. While their short stature and slight build made them ill-suited for the rough-and-tumble world Baylo would soon introduce her students to, the drem all seemed way too lively and cheerful to go with the grumpy eldwyr. When we could finally com
municate, I’d have to remember to ask them why they’d made that choice. The rest of the motley crew of students ended up with Reesa.

  “Thanks for the update,” I said. “I almost forgot again. Can you tell me about advancement?”

  The soulforged handed his pitcher and the few remaining glasses on his tray to one of the students. They exchanged a few words in a language that might as well have been Martian, and the student headed off with his new cargo.

  “I do have time,” Monitor said. “Though this is a subject that may take longer than you expect.”

  “Will these kids be all right without someone keeping an eye on them?” Most of the students had finished eating. They gave me half-hearted waves when they caught my gaze sweeping over them.

  Xin smiled when her eyes met mine. She pushed her thumb into the center of her chest while mouthing the only English word she’d learned.

  “They should be fine now.” Monitor raised his voice so everyone could hear him. The students nodded at the stream of nonsense the soulforged uttered, shrugged, and went back to talking to one another. They no longer looked frightened or confused. Most of them just seemed bored. If we didn’t give them something to do, soon, they’d occupy their time with trouble. “Would you like to retire somewhere more comfortable to discuss this? I find the old watchtower to be perfect for deep thought.”

  “That’s a perfect idea,” I said. “Biz! Come with us.”

  My sister put the stack of empty plates she’d gathered onto a tray in the corner, then hustled back to join Monitor and me as we headed for the lift. The student dormitory was surprisingly cramped and difficult to navigate, which I supposed was meant to keep the youngest students out of sight and mind of the instructors when school was in full swing. I tried to imagine what this place looked like when it was fully operational and couldn’t fit the picture into the battered frame of reference I held in my head. To me, the Academy was a junk heap, and it was hard to see it any other way.

  The lift carried us up higher than we’d been before. It moved so quickly that my stomach lurched, then lurched again when it glided to a stop and the door opened onto a small, open-air platform surrounded by a low wall and protected from the rain and sun by a peaked roof. The floor was covered with heavy carpets that were in much better repair than those we’d seen in the rest of the school, and the cover was still intact. Monitor walked to the far side of the space, folded his legs up, and floated cross-legged with his hands resting on his knees. He gestured for us to take a seat, and Biz and I picked out a pair of cushions and plopped down for a lecture.

  “I see you’ve both come a long way since you arrived,” the soulforged said. “Are you truly ready to advance?”

  “Yep,” I said. “I am, anyway. The interface tells me I’ve gathered enough reference points.”

  “And I’ve got these things.” Biz showed the soulforged the shards in her hand. “Is that enough?”

  Monitor considered Biz for a few moments, counted the shells in her hand, and nodded.

  “Yes, the cost to advance from Awakened core to Neophyte is five core shells,” the soulforged said with an approving nod. His eyes shifted from a mellow blue to a deep, troubled yellow when he looked at me. “Unfortunately, engineers are a secretive lot. What I know of their methods of advancement would fit into a thimble with room for a shot of oil.”

  Well, that was disappointing. I’d hoped Monitor would know something. Unfortunately, I was learning that the Academy’s staff weren’t terribly knowledgeable about any area outside their expertise. If I wanted to advance, I’d have to figure it out on my own.

  “All right,” I said with a grimace. “I’ll listen to what you teach Biz. Maybe I can adapt it somehow.”

  “Yes, yes,” Monitor said as if that would be the easiest thing in the world. “An excellent idea. The first step in advancement to Neophyte is to incorporate the shells you’ve gained from your fallen enemies into your core. Hold them tight in your fist and imagine them slowly seeping into your body. No, not now. Wait until I’ve finished my explanation.”

  “Maybe you should’ve led with that,” Biz said, showing Monitor her clenched fist. “I was just about to pull the trigger.”

  “Yes, well, I have no idea what that means, but don’t.” Monitor held up a second finger and continued his explanation. “Your second task is to meditate for enlightenment. You must find the weakness within yourself and come to truly understand it.”

  Monitor’s slightly mechanical voice was soothing, but it was also boring. My attention drifted past him to the city beyond. I scanned the horizon for any signs of the kamarotz. The sky was empty, at least of living creatures. Not even birds wheeled across the cloudless purple sky. The usual rubble glided through the air on unseen currents, like ghost ships in search of a port.

  “This may take some time. But, if you are true to yourself, and you look in the darkest corners of your heart, you will find what you seek.” Monitor held up a third finger. When he spoke again, his voice was much lower and more serious. “Once you understand the weakness that must be purged, you must defeat the enemy within. If you destroy it, you arrive at the final stage of advancement.”

  “This sounds like a lot of trouble for a level-up,” Biz grumbled. “Can we go back to the good old days when you just zapped me with some of your ghostlight and Baylo taught me a glowy-hands trick? Because that seems way easier than getting in touch with my inner child or whatever.”

  While Monitor and my sister argued about which steps were necessary and which were traditions that served no purpose but to bore the living snot out of her, I shifted my view to the horizon. From this vantage point, a good ten stories up, I saw that the city stretched for hundreds of yards to the west, north, and south. To the east, though, only a thin fringe of land and ruined buildings stood between the Academy and the edge of the splinter world. I shuddered to think of how close I’d come to tumbling into that endless abyss. The idea of falling, falling forever, was enough to make me feel queasy all over again.

  The longer I looked down on the city, the more details I could pick out. Most noticeably, some areas were darker than others, as if clogged with shadows. A gloom clung to those patches of the ruins like low-lying clouds. Weird.

  “—and the final stage is, of course, the Crucible of Empowerment. If you survive that, your body will adapt to the new strength of the core you carry.” Monitor clapped his hands together and then brushed his palms against one another as if clapping nonexistent dust from them. “And then you’ll be advanced.”

  “What if you don’t adapt?” I asked, my attention pulled back from the shadows to Monitor’s speech. I didn’t like the idea of Biz putting herself in danger in order to learn a new way to punch something.

  “Well,” Monitor said quietly, “if your body fails, you will not advance.”

  “And then?” Biz asked.

  Monitor looked distinctly uncomfortable for a moment, then continued.

  “We will be happy to bury you in the school cemetery.” Monitor lowered his head. “Of course—”

  One of the clots of shadow had moved since the last time I saw it. So had several others. They were all headed in the same direction: toward a thin, black needle of a tower on the city’s western edge.

  “What’s that?” I pointed at the gathering darkness.

  Monitor followed me to the very edge of the platform we were standing on. We leaned against the low rail that surrounded it and peered intently into the distance.

  “Oh, dear,” Monitor said. “That cannot be good.”

  “What is it?” Biz reiterated my question. The fuzzball curled its tail around her throat and rested its chin on top of her head.

  “I do believe that is Fell Lord Inphyr gathering his forces,” the soulforged said, his eyes the dull red of dying cinders. “For an attack.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  A WAVE OF NAUSEA CRASHED over me. In addition to the larger patches of shadows that I’d seen creeping through t
he ruins, there were dozens of smaller spots of darkness moving in the city. If all of those sooty smudges moving toward the tower were allies of Fell Lord Inphyr, we were in a lot of trouble. It would take him some time to gather his people, and longer still to march them across the city, but the war was coming.

  And we had so much to do before it hit the Academy.

  “Monitor, gather the Tribunal,” I barked. “Tell Baylo we need a plan to fight off the Fell Lord. Have Ylor prepare a list of ghostlight seams close to the Academy. I want a report from Reesa on the students and what they can do. Biz and I will meet you all in the great hall as soon as we wrap up our advancement.”

  “It may take some time for Biz to go through all the required steps,” Monitor began. “And you don’t even know exactly what you need to do to complete the process, Kai. Perhaps we should convene the Tribunal tomorrow.”

  “We’re not giving that bat-riding freak that much of a head start on us,” Biz said. “One hour. Be ready.”

  Monitor’s eyes faded from a cautious yellow to a rusty orange. He hesitated, as if about to say something, then shrugged his mechanical shoulders and led us to the lift. Biz shot me a confident wink as we descended.

  My sister’s attitude boosted my spirits. If Biz could do this, so could I.

  “One hour,” I repeated to Monitor. “We’ll be there.”

  “As you wish, engineer,” the soulforged said. “Do be careful, though. Advancement is not to be trifled with. There are often unexpected challenges—”

  “Like getting sucked out of your world and dumped in a new one?” I chuckled. “We’ll be careful, Monitor. Thank you for your concern.”