“Is that what your spy told you?” Sanrin’s confession that he knew about the Flame’s quest raised my suspicions. No matter how old and weary he appeared, the elder was an expert at wrapping schemes inside of schemes.
“May I sit?” Sanrin asked, gesturing toward my desk chair. I nodded, and he pulled it toward him with a come here motion of his fingers, then took a seat. He rubbed his left knee with both hands, let out a deep, relieved sigh, and continued. “Byron was Hagar’s idea. She didn’t like leaving you alone.”
“Because she’s my handler,” I said.
“Because she’s your friend,” Sanrin corrected me, his voice harsh. “I was against it, for this very reason. We didn’t want to alienate you, Jace. We were trying to protect ourselves, and you. What do you think your mother and her followers would do if they thought you knew where we were hiding?”
My mother, who’d set a booby-trap that would’ve wiped out my clan’s combat forces if I hadn’t been there. My mother, who’d used me as an experimental subject to further an insane war against the Empyrean Flame. My mother, who wouldn’t be happy until she’d pulled out every pillar of society and left it in ruins in revenge for a crime against the Eclipse Warriors.
If she decided I was the key to dragging the Shadow Phoenix clan out into the open where they could be exterminated, she’d stop at nothing to get to me. Everything Sanrin said made perfect sense.
And none of it convinced me to trust him.
“This is all too much,” I said at last. “I think it’s best, at least for the time being, if you stay hidden with the rest of the Phoenixes. Don’t tell me, I can’t know where you are. I’ll keep an eye out for Byron, but no one from the clan should contact him again. If what you’re telling me is true, every trip you make to the School puts all of us at terrible risk.”
Sanrin leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, chin cradled in his hands. He looked so old, as if all the years he’d thwarted by cultivating his jinsei and strengthening his core had chased him down to demand their due.
“Then I suppose this is my last opportunity to advise you,” he said. “Whatever the Flame has entrusted to you gives you a chance to change everything. Use it to end the war with your mother. Undo the damage your clan has suffered. The Flame wouldn’t have chosen you to be its champion if it didn’t want to reward you. You could rule the world, Jace. And with me at your side, there’s nothing we couldn’t accomplish.”
The weight of the key on the cord around my neck felt like an anchor. Confiding in Sanrin would take a great burden from my shoulders. He knew things I didn’t. He could guide me along paths that were invisible to me now. All I had to do was entrust the elder with the quest the Empyrean Flame had given to me. Sharing that burden would be such a relief.
And that was why I couldn’t do it.
Even if Sanrin had been honest with me up until this very moment, even if he honestly meant well, his words showed me what was in his heart. He’d seize the chance to bend the new Flame to his will. He’d want me to tilt the world in our favor.
That wouldn’t be a new start. We’d all end up in a new flavor of the same mess, with the only difference being who was the oppressed and who the oppressor.
That wasn’t what the Empyrean Flame had wanted.
It wasn’t what I wanted.
“You should go,” I said. “When this is all over, maybe we can talk again. Maybe then we’ll finally understand each other.”
For a moment Sanrin’s mask slipped. He was no longer the unflappable leader of my clan. He was an old man, beaten down by the years, tortured by the mistakes he’d made, and haunted by legions of could-have-beens and might-bes. The sorrow in his eyes was real.
It hurt me to see him like that, but I couldn’t find a way to bridge the gap between us without endangering my mission. If I let him keep talking, he’d twist my thoughts around until I didn’t know which way was up.
“Very well,” he said quietly. “Whatever it is you have to do, I wish you the very best. Be careful, Jace. Your mother hasn’t moved against you yet, but that doesn’t mean she won’t.”
With that, Sanrin turned away from me, opened my closet door, and vanished through a portal of his own creation.
The pain of seeing him go like that was only partially balanced by my confidence that I’d made the right choice. The Flame had given this mission to me, and the letter had only opened when my friends were gathered around it. No one else was meant to be a part of this journey. No one else could make the hard decisions that lay ahead. Trusting my elders to guide me was inviting disaster.
I repeated that thought over and over that sleepless night, and the days after, hoping against hope I’d put my feet on the right path.
The Discoveries
ERIC AND I HAD JUST gotten in line for dinner when Clem and Abi grabbed our arms and dragged us toward the dining hall’s exit.
“No, no, no,” Eric groaned. “I’m so hungry, you guys. Can’t it wait?”
Abi nudged his friend in the ribs. “It definitely cannot.”
Adding a grumbling stomach to my other problems didn’t improve my mood. I still hadn’t mastered the Sleepless technique, and every time I tried to advance I came face-to-face with chanting squid monsters. The diabolical eaters were a long way from destroying the Design, but the damage they’d caused grew by the day.
I was about to join Eric in his protest against hunger when I saw the beaming smiles on Abi’s and Clem’s faces.
“You found something?” I asked.
“Two somethings,” Abi
