“Knock it off!” Niddhogg growled from above our heads. The chubby little dragon’s wings flapped frantically to keep him aloft. “Nobody eats dragons. There’s a law.”
“It’s a very old law,” Hahen added. “But dragons really do not taste very good. Let’s get something more delicious.”
The rat spirit raised his nimble paws and parted them. The crowd between us and the door moved out of the way as if guided by a giant’s hand. The other students looked confused, but no one knew how to react to a dragon, a rat spirit, and the school’s former champion and world’s only Eclipse Warrior cutting in line for breakfast. I’d have to get Hahen to show me that technique. It could be very useful.
We loaded up our plates and staked out a table near the back corner of the dining room. Eric’s plate was nearly as full as mine, but he’d opted for heaping portions of fresh fruits and vegetables instead of the the mound of breakfast meats I’d piled on my own. Clem had a much smaller selection of grapefruit slices, berries, and a cup of vanilla yogurt alongside an omelet loaded with red and green bell peppers and so much cheese I thought it might moo. Hagar carried a tray heaped high with slices of carved ham and a mound of hash browns so crispy they were nearly black. In her other hand, she had a big mug of steaming coffee.
“That’s all you’re eating.” I wrinkled my nose at the odd plate.
“That’s for him.” Hagar poked Niddhogg’s belly when he landed on the table next to her. “Only the coffee’s mine.”
“That doesn’t sound very filling,” Clem said.
“I’ve already eaten,” Hagar said. “No one wants to see that. Because, you know, Path of the Blood Spider.”
I had no idea what Hagar meant by that, and I didn’t want to. Maybe she had to eat bugs. Maybe she needed to eat a lot of raw meat to replenish her blood aspects. Or she drank blood...
Nope, I did not want to know anything about her dining habits.
No one else at the table seemed inclined to question her about it, either. There were some things we were just better off not knowing.
“Anybody hear who the new champion was this year?” Eric asked. “I know the headmistress decided to do it based on academics, but never heard how it shook out.”
“They canceled the Five Dragons Challenge, so, no champion,” Clem said. “I guess traditionalists on the board didn’t want to name anyone if they couldn’t have their bloodsport.”
“Weird,” Hagar said. “It’s probably for the best. Rumor is they took that cottage out.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Hagar said. “I guess somebody made a big fuss out there and the PDF decided it was too much of a security risk to keep around.”
What had actually happened in the cottage was more than a big fuss. An assassin with my name on her list had killed my security detail, nearly murdered Hagar, and ended up with a bullet in her head. That was an experience I didn’t want to repeat.
“How did they select the initiates without a challenge?” Eric asked.
“The clans called a conclave to pick them,” Clem said. “The newbies still have to go through Mama Weaver for assignments, though. Well, except for the Disciples. Because—”
“They’re evil.” Eric ducked away from Clem’s feinted slap. “It’s true!”
The Disciples of Jade Flame was the only clan that picked its own members and was never assigned any by the School. It wasn’t really because they were evil, but the tradition was so mired in complex Empyreal political wrangling no one had ever been able to explain it to me. It was just the way it was.
But if the clans had picked the candidates, that meant no kids from the undercity had a chance to come to the School. That was disappointing, and I felt bad for my part in denying them their shot. I’d have to figure out some way to fix that before next year.
“There were some surprise candidates, though.” Hagar winked at me. “Elder Sanrin was pretty excited about them.”
“The Shadow Phoenix clan sent some?” I asked. Like the Disciples, the Phoenixes never sent anyone to the School. Unlike the Disciples, though, we always got the least promising members of the Initiate class. That, too, was a tradition that dated back to the fall of the Eclipse Warriors.
“No,” Hagar said with a shake of her head. “We got tons of applicants over the summer. Your name as the hero of Kyoto got us a lot of attention from hopefuls. Unfortunately, we’re still bound by the old covenants. Maybe you can get that changed this year.”
“That would be nice, but it’ll never happen,” Clem said with a snort. “The rest of the clans would lose their minds.”
“That’s already happened,” Eric snickered. “Between the heretics and the missing elders, no one knows which way to jump.”
Hagar slid her chair around closer to Eric’s and gave his arm a squeeze.
“You should keep your voice down,” she said. “Not everyone knows what really happened in Kyoto. Probably best to keep it that way.”
“It was a very thorough cover-up,” Clem muttered, obviously irritated by that fact. “Everyone thinks the elders are in hiding because of a terrorist attack by the heretics. No one knows what Jace really did.”
“I wish they’d kept a lid on my identity,” I said. “It’s nice that people think I did the right thing, but people are not going to be happy with a black-eyed Eclipse Warrior walking around.”
“That’s gone down smoother than you’d think,” Hagar said over her mug of coffee. “That’s why we got so many applicants. Everybody wants to be like you, Jace. You’re such a dreamy hero.”
“I’m no hero,” I groused. “I was the only one who could stop the—”
Hagar made a quick motion with
