“How did you know?” I asked. “I tried to get word out, but the inquisitors insisted on keeping my whereabouts secret until they finished their investigation. The brothers were worried that there might be another attempt on my life, or that my presence in Atlantis might rile up the heretics.”
“It’s hard to keep anything from me,” Hahen said with a faint snicker. “We spirits share information with one another when it suits us. For example, I had spirits deliver news to your friends that you were not, in fact, dead. I’m glad to see the inquisitors didn’t harm you during their questioning. They aren’t always so gentle with their guests, and I’d hate for people to think I was a liar.”
The biting sarcasm the spirit added to his last sentence told me just how he felt about the Church and its minions.
“They didn’t hurt me,” I confirmed. “Though their interrogation was exhausting. My core still aches.”
“What did they ask you about?” Hahen’s voice was little more than a conspiratorial whisper.
“Everything,” I whispered back.
“And what did you tell them?” He seemed nervous, as if afraid the Inquisition was listening in on our conversation.
Maybe they were. I considered my next words very carefully.
“Everything I could.” That seemed like a safe way to phrase things.
“Good.” Hahen nodded slowly. “I feared they’d use you in worse ways than Tycho did.”
“Not yet.” I still didn’t know about this convergence business or what I’d do when faced with the choice.
“The powerful will always seek to use the weak,” Hahen said softly. “That is the easiest way to become even more powerful. But true strength lies in helping others grow stronger. Try to remember that.”
Before I could respond, Hahen cleared his throat loudly and switched topics.
“Your core looks fine,” Hahen said. “Though you do have minor stress fractures in the outer shell. I’d advise you to take it easy for a couple of weeks, but I know you won’t listen to me.”
We both chuckled at that. Hahen had been a ruthless taskmaster during my first year at the School. He’d trained me in the rudiments of alchemy and showed me how to strip the aspects from tainted jinsei. His instruction had been invaluable, but, in the end, I’d chosen a path he didn’t truly understand. I was glad to see my mentor had forgiven me for that decision.
“No one knows where these came from?” I asked, nodding to each of the statues in turn.
“No. They just appeared yesterday,” the spirit said. “There were no alarms over the summer, though, and the security sentinels never detected an intrusion. The PDF insists they didn’t come through their portals. It’s a true mystery.”
I wasn’t a huge fan of mysteries. The ones I’d bumped into so far in my life had nearly gotten me killed. It was hard to see how the statues in the courtyard were a threat, but that didn’t mean they didn’t make me nervous. There was something ominous about the way they glared at one another, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that one of the dragon’s eyes was fixed on me.
“Have you seen your room yet?” Hahen asked. “I’ve heard you’ll be taking the aptitudes this year.”
“No, I haven’t made it to my room yet,” I said. “Abi mentioned the aptitudes, though he didn’t give me any idea what they were.”
“You will see,” the rat spirit said, grinning. “I shouldn’t say more. It could interfere with your testing.”
“Fine, keep your secrets,” I muttered.
“You should go to your room and get some rest.” Hahen chuckled. “You’re a long way from Atlantis and you’ll want to be fresh for tomorrow. Come along.”
“I’m not tired.” My traitorous body picked that moment to yawn so wide my jaw clicked. “Okay. Maybe I’m a little tired.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard,” Hahen cautioned.
I followed the rat spirit to the edge of the courtyard and paused to look back at the statues. The dragon’s eye seemed fixed on me. A flicker of shadow almost convinced me it had winked in my direction.
That wasn’t possible.
Was it?
The Initiates
THE SHADOW PHOENIX dorms were much smaller and simpler than the champion’s cottage had been. My room held a bed on a low platform, a simple black lacquered desk with an alarm clock on a back corner, a closet that held the robes I hadn’t taken out of the cottage before I’d been snatched by the Inquisition, and patterned gray walls that seemed to undulate in gentle, rhythmic waves. I was really going to miss having my own coffee set.
I pulled my quantic laptop out of my backpack and placed it down next to a sheet of paper someone had left neatly aligned in the center of my desk.
“Dear Jace,” I read to myself, “as you begin your third year, it is time to look at how your unique abilities and skills can best be utilized within Empyreal society. With that in mind, you will begin your Aptitudes Assessment Courses on your first day of classes. The administration hopes you take these courses seriously and apply yourself to the utmost. Your success in the AACs will directly influence what classes are offered to you from your fourth year on. This testing will also have a significant impact on your future career options.
“Good luck, and may the Empyrean Flame guide you during this momentous year.”
Headmistress Cruzal had signed the note in an ornate tangle of cursive letters that shimmered with traces of jinsei. The sacred energy carried enough of her presence to prove she’d personally signed the letter, and I thought that was a nice touch.
The assessments sounded Very Serious and like they would go on my Permanent Record. I imagined most students were nervous about being judged and slotted into Empyreal society so early in their lives. I found that I looked forward to the assessments. After my months of interrogation
