The Aptitudes
CRUZAL LET ME CHAT with the students for a few minutes, until we were interrupted by a pack of wardens armed with robes, toiletries, and shower brushes. The initiates stared at the upperclassmen like they’d just seen a ghost.
“It’s okay,” I said in a tone that I hoped was reassuring.
I’d been an initiate from the labor camps not so very long ago. The School had nearly overwhelmed me, even with Clem, Eric, and Abi to help guide me through the first year. These poor kids didn’t even have that. I gave each of the twelve students a smile and gestured for them to go with the wardens.
I grabbed the last warden by the wrist as he followed the group out the door. He was a Shadow Phoenix with a frown that seemed etched into his face.
“Be kind to them,” I said. “Or you’ll wish you had been.”
The Shadow Phoenix thrust his chin out like he wanted to say something, then stopped when he met my black gaze.
“I’ll see to it,” he promised.
“See, you’re already looking out for them,” Cruzal said when we were alone. “I know this is a lot to drop on you, especially on top of the aptitude assessments, but you can handle it.”
“Thank you for your confidence in me, honored Headmistress,” I said with a bow. “About those assessments—”
“Oh, yes.” She frowned. “I didn’t mean for this to take as long as it did. I’m afraid the dining hall is closed. You’ll have to hurry to reach your first assessment. It’s being held in the same courtyard where they used to hold the final challenge. Can you find your way there?”
That part of the School still resonated in my core. My memories of the final challenge and everything that had happened around it were an emotional lodestone I could follow with my eyes closed.
“Of course. When will I meet with the other hollows again?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. And don’t call them that. It’s offensive.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m just very sensitive about the optics on this. You know how it is with campers.”
“My apologies,” I said, confused. I’d never considered the term offensive, and wasn’t sure why anyone else would, either. They were hollow cores. That was just a fact. Campers, though, was a slur I’d heard more than enough in my life. It took great effort for me to keep my face neutral when Cruzal said the word. “Please let me know when I can be of service again.”
“Of course.” Cruzal beamed another smile in my direction. I was surprised to feel it erode the edges of my anger. “Run along, Jace.”
I hated to be dismissed like a child, but I didn’t see any profit in arguing with the headmistress. I bit my tongue and headed for the first aptitude assessment.
I reached the courtyard just in time to see the other third-year students lining up by clan. The Shadow Phoenixes were the smallest group of students, and there was no hiding my tardiness as I slipped into their ranks.
“Thank you for joining us, Mr. Warin,” Professor Ishigara called out to me from the small stage at the end of the courtyard. “I’ll repeat the instructions for you. When I sound the commencement chime, you will begin cycling your breathing. Continue to cycle until you are told to stop. Do not be distracted by the observers. They are not here to grade you. We merely wish to assess your aptitude for different aspects.”
I was relieved our first test was so simple. Cycling was the most natural thing in the world to me, and I fell into an easy rhythm the instant the professor sounded her chime. My breath flowed into my nostrils and brought jinsei tainted with aspects of anxiety, confusion, and outright fear into my body.
Normally, my core would strip those aspects out into my aura and leave me filled with purified jinsei. This time, though, there was a sharp, stabbing pain that knocked me out of my cycle and left me breathless.
I’d never experienced anything like that and wasn’t sure what had triggered the spike of agony. For long moments, I was afraid to even inhale, much less return to cycling. I steeled myself and took a slow, shallow breath.
No pain.
A slightly deeper breath.
Still good.
Finally, I took a long, deep breath that filled my lungs completely. My attention was focused on the way my muscles and organs felt, and I analyzed every sensation for any sign of pain.
Nothing.
The good news was that there wasn’t a physical cause for the pain I’d experienced. The bad news was that meant it had come from my core.
One of Ishigara’s observers, a slight figure hidden in the folds of a hooded azure robe, drifted toward me. The weight of their attention on my core was distracting. Exactly what I didn’t need.
I gritted my teeth in frustration and focused on my cycling. Breathe in, strip out the aspects, hold the jinsei in my core, breathe out.
My inhalation felt sluggish and weak. It took me longer than ever to strip the aspects out. Though there was no pain, the weakness was even more frightening. Something was wrong with me.
I was so deep in concentration I didn’t even notice Professor Ishigara until she cleared her throat and spoke to me.
“You seem to be struggling, Mr. Warin,” she said. “I thought you were one of our most powerful students. Professor Song even claimed you would surpass us all before the end of this year. It seems his confidence must have been misplaced.”
I opened my mouth to explain, but the professor silenced me with a single lacquered nail pressed to my upper lip.
“No excuses. Continue cycling, don’t mind me.” Her thin smile barely concealed the points of her teeth. The professor was clearly amused by my struggles. She’d been one of Grayson’s favorites, and she was still grinding an ax over what had happened to him. None of that was my fault, of course, but
