Though I had absolutely nothing to do with the Empyrean Flame’s decision to withdraw its guidance from the oracles, Clem’s words still stung. After decades of being led astray by seers who interpreted the Grand Design to their benefit, Empyreal society had gotten far too accustomed to trusting their soothsayers. Now that governments and other authorities had to find their own way, they were stumbling.
I chewed on that idea along with a mouthful of roast beef. If I didn’t replace the Flame, the world would slide into chaos. If I chose the wrong Flame, or couldn’t complete the quest, things might be even worse. As much as I wanted to ask someone older and wiser how to proceed, I didn’t trust the chance to grab power for themselves wouldn’t tempt them.
No, the only people I could rely on were sitting at this table.
“I have something to show you guys after we finish up here,” I said. Then, because I knew everyone at the table was wondering, I asked, “What’s with the scar, Eric?”
Eric washed down a forkful of mashed potatoes and gravy with a gulp of water, then leaned in close, his voice low and conspiratorial.
“The Guardians I was stationed with were on cleanup duty,” he said. “There’ve been a lot of problems at places dedicated to the Flame. Temples and shrines, mostly.”
“Heretics?” Abi interrupted. “That seems like a job for local police, not the guardian force.”
“That’s what we thought,” Eric said. He lowered his voice even more. “But turns out it was squid-headed monsters eating the places. Literally, just chewing up rocks and metal and anything else they could shovel into their faces.”
The description of the monsters drove a spike of fear through me. The similarity to the beasts I’d seen devouring the pattern couldn’t be a coincidence. I held off telling my friends about that. Knowing those things were chewing at the roots of our reality would only worry them. I’d keep that to myself until I had something more hopeful to offer them.
Like a way to kill those things, once and for all.
Eric got a faraway look in his eye, and he speared another hunk of roast beef as he relived whatever memory his words had dredged to the surface. His left eye twitched, and the scar above it jerked like a dying worm. He paused with his fork a few inches above his plate, then shook his head and continued.
“They’re hard to fight,” he said. “We couldn’t use fusion blades on them at all. As soon as you’d stick one of them with the pointy end, the whole weapon just evaporated. Even when I punched them, they’d slurp the fire off my hands before it could do any damage.”
Clem raised one dark eyebrow in my direction and pursed her lips. She finished chewing and rested her chin on the back of her right hand.
“That sounds familiar,” she said. “You think they learned the Thief’s Shield, Jace?”
I didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed. Despite my black eyes, I wasn’t a monster. I’d tried very hard to walk the straight and narrow, to show people that the Eclipse Warriors weren’t all bad. Still, plenty of people would be happy to see me wiped off the face of the Earth. If monsters were running with the same abilities I possessed, it wouldn’t be long before it was open season on me and the rest of the hollow cores.
“The Thief’s Shield doesn’t work like that,” I said and tried to change the subject. “What did your officers think of those creatures?”
“Most of them had no idea what they were,” Eric said. He absently scratched at the edge of his scar and frowned when his fingertips brushed against its gnarled surface. “A couple of the old-timers called them warped, though. Said they were something out of legend.”
“I bet that’s why the PDF security teams had us hopping all over the world to install new sensor crystals,” Abi grumbled. “They were useless for tracking heretics, but they’d certainly spot anything that wasn’t human.”
Clem nodded thoughtfully, then pushed her plate back. She’d played with her food more than eaten it. She watched me with careful eyes, a faint smile twisting the corners of her mouth upward.
“So, we’ve all told you about our summer,” she said with a sudden grin. “Why don’t you fill us in on yours?”
“It’s easier if I show you,” I said. “Everybody finished eating?”
Everyone nodded, and we dumped our plates in the bin as we headed out of the dining room.
We’d all kept the same rooms that we’d had the year before, and would until we graduated or were assigned to a special project team that would have its own rooms. Part of being a student at the School was giving back to Empyreal society, and that was the province of the special project teams. The close-knit groups kept to themselves, but from what I’d heard from Mr. Tanoki in the library, they were sixth- to seventh-year students with the skills and training to be entrusted with important work for governments, international corporations, and humanitarian organizations.
Maybe that’s why I hadn’t seen Hagar around school yet. Not even she would be able to dodge the long arms of the special projects recruiters now that she was a sixth year.
“Needless to say,” I told my friends when we arrived at my room, “what I’m about to show you guys is a secret. Nobody, and I mean nobody, but the four of us can know about it.”
“Not even Hagar?” Abi asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, my hand on my room’s door. “I trust none of you will run off and tell your clan elders what we’re up to. I want to believe that Hagar won’t, either, but...”
Clem rested a hand on my arm. For the first time I noticed her fingernails were longer than they’d
