“One.”
I glanced over my shoulder as the telescope did its work. A cone of light erupted from the end nearest the portal. A grinding thrumming noise echoed across the Far Horizon as the cone settled over the edges of the gate and slowly, so slowly, pulled them together. And then, there was a faint pop, and the gateway was gone.
“We won’t see them again,” one of the guards said to me.
“Thank the Flame for that,” I sighed.
“Jace?” Abi and my friends had been gathered around Tycho on the same side of the room, talking amongst themselves. “It’s him! They found him!”
“This is your friend?” the guard asked. “We found him near the portal. We thought he was one of them.”
“No!” Abi shouted. “He needs a medic!”
Eric, Clem, and Rachel rushed to Abi’s side as he took me from the other guardians. Their eyes were filled with concern, and they handled me like I was made of glass. I must’ve looked even worse than I felt.
“Let me get his hands,” the guard said, and fumbled with the manacles.
I didn’t care what they did to me. I just wanted to lie down.
For, like, a year.
“This way,” Rachel said. “There are EMTs.”
“I’m fine,” I protested, even though I knew I wasn’t.
“You’re not fine,” Clem said. “Let them do their job.”
The medical professionals swarmed me the instant I stepped out of the courtroom. Someone pushed a gurney over, and they hoisted me off my feet and laid me down. Someone shoved a stethoscope against my chest, someone else probed my core with a penetrating gaze. Voices shouted medical statuses back and forth.
None of it made any sense.
I was drifting. That was good.
That was fine.
“We’ll be there when you wake up,” Rachel promised.
My eyes fluttered closed, and I went away for a while.
When I came back, the sun stung my eyes, and I blinked away tears as I shielded my face with my left arm. Which, it turned out, was wrapped in bandages. An IV needle jutted from the back of my hand. Somehow that hurt more than the other aches and pains from every other quarter of my body.
“That was something else, Mr. Warin,” Elder Sanrin said. “You’ve certainly kicked the hornet’s nest this time.”
“Water,” I croaked. My throat felt as dry as desert sand.
“Of course.” The elder scooped a pitcher off the nightstand next to my head, poured a small glass, tore a straw from its paper wrapper, and plunked it into the drink. “Just a small sip.”
I wanted to gulp the water down all in one go. But when he placed the straw against my lips, it was all I could do to suck in the tiniest of drinks before the effort exhausted me.
“Better,” I said, my voice no longer quite so raspy. “How long has it been?”
“Three weeks,” Sanrin said. “The school year is almost over, I’m afraid.”
“Figures,” I said. I’d probably have to repeat Intermediate Scrivening.
Crap.
Sanrin pulled a chair across the room to sit next to my bed. He leaned back, steepled his fingers, and watched me in silence.
“I’m not sure what to do with you, now,” he said. “Claude and Brand think we should kill you.”
“That’s comforting,” I said. “Maybe they’re right.”
I’d defeated the Lost, sealed the portal to the land of the Locust Court, and wiped out legions of hungry spirits. That didn’t mean I was safe for anyone to be around.
“Hirani disagrees,” Sanrin said. “I do, too, for that matter. It’s a split decision, now that we only have four elders.”
I winced at that. Elder Ariana hadn’t exactly endeared herself to me during our first meeting, but the news of her death still stung. That thought reminded me we weren’t out of the woods, yet. First had warned me something else was coming. Something to do with the Empyrean Flame’s Grand Design.
“Is it safe to talk here?” I asked Sanrin. “There’s something you need to know.”
Elder Sanrin flicked his fingers, and a script around the room’s ceiling ignited in a burst of jinsei.
“It is, now,” he said.
“When I was on the other side, with the Locust Court,” I said, “the Lost’s leader told me something else is coming. Something big.”
“Did they give you any other information?” Sanrin asked, his eyes burrowing into mine.
“I don’t know,” I said, dejected. “She said to watch the Design, whatever that means.”
Sanrin looked down at his steepled fingers for a long moment. As powerful as he was, he seemed smaller to me. His shoulders were slumped, and his head was bowed in concentration. He looked old, tired.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said at last. “There’s still the matter of the heretics to deal with.”
“I’m ready,” I said. I was dangerous, to myself and others, but this was a lifeline for me. I could do real work for the Shadow Phoenixes.
“I’m not so sure we should do that,” Sanrin said. “You’re not the same as you were before you went into that portal, Jace.”
“I’m stronger,” I said. “I’m whole, for the first time. You have no idea what I can do.”
“I do not.” The Elder leaned forward. “Do you?”
“Not exactly,” I admitted.
“And you can’t hide what you’ve become any longer,” he said.
“The veil’s broken.”
“Yes,” Sanrin said. “You won’t be able to hide from the core detectors. And, let me say, you are quite unique.”
“Kind of makes it hard to be a secret agent,” I sighed.
Sanrin chuckled and patted my shoulder. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the edge of my bed. When he pinched the bridge of his nose, he reminded me of my mother after a particularly hard day of work. Worn thin by her labor, so exhausted all she wanted to do was lie back and sleep. And knowing it wasn’t yet time to rest.
“No, you’re fairly distinctive with that core,” he said. “And those eyes. Contacts might do something for them, though I’m
