CHAPTER 25

  I came too as Nanda laid me down inside the Criers Hideout..

  Raine and Leace half-dragged, half-carried Mel into the hideout behind us. Poison still streaked purple-black through her veins and up along her face. Our first time using Pulse left us crashing hard from the aftereffects. It was akin to running three marathons back-to-back, with no breaks. It left my muscles jelly and my sight blurry.

  “I’m fine now, I can walk,” Mel lied, stumbling onto Leace’s shoulder.

  “Shut up, you firebird,” Leace muttered. She kicked the heavy door shut behind us, slid the bolt, and eased Mel down.

  Mel pushed away from them, and tried to stand on her own. Her knees buckled and she dropped back to the wooden floor. “Dammit.”

  Nanda set me up steady agains a sturdy box. My head spun like all the blood in my body had rushed to my head. I wanted to vomit I was so dizzy, but I breathed through it all.

  “Why… is it taking so long to recover?” I asked. My tongue felt thick. Even talking took effort.

  Leace peered through a slit in the shutters, checking the plains behind us. Only when she was sure we weren’t followed did she turn back. Leace knelt in front of me, and tilted my face toward the fire, inspecting me.

  “You both overdid it, Erik,” she said with almost pity in her voice.

  She pried my left eyelid open with her thumb and forefinger and held it there. The firelight stabbed into my eyes, and tears spilled out.

  “Hmm. Your transformation seemed to strengthen Pulse’s drain. Your pupils are still slow to dilate, and your muscles will take more hours to recover. You drained yourself almost to collapse. You’ll have to train that endurance in the next thirty days.”

  She let go, and my eyelid fluttered gratefully shut. “You will feel better soon,” she said. “I will get the Gurus.”

  She crossed the room, yanked the ragged rug back, opened the trapdoor, and disappeared down the ladder.

  Raine stood by one of the windows, eyes scanning the grass fields, like she expected Nerida to ooze out of one of the pools nearby. “This city…” she said quietly. “Nowhere feels safe.”

  She paused, looking at us. “You two survived,” she said. “Against Nerida. That’s…” Her throat bobbed, and she glanced between Mel and me. “Impressive. I see what kind of warriors House Any made.”

  Mel snorted and rubbed at her wrists. Bruises mottled her skin from when Nerida threw her. “Psh! House Anu didn’t do any of that. That was all me and mosshead. The two strongest Cinders to be birthed from the Academy.”

  I lazily rolled my eye. “Humble brag much?”

  Mel laughed and slumped back over, still exhausted. “I mean now with Pulse Breath, I feel like we can kind of say that you know?”

  “How so?” I asked, my speech slurring. “It’s not like we reached Fourth or Fifth Form yet.”

  “True,” Mel said. “But we did discover and learn some ancient magic. That boost we had fighting her? It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Now, if only you let me use that sword, I would have made quick work of her.” She eyes the black sword that sat by my side.

  “Without Pulse we definetely would have been fish food. It would have been useless to use the sword though, it’s not infused with the glass, and it would just drain your life. Not worth it,” I said.

  “Well, still it would have been fun to carve her up a little. That bitch can sure take a hit.”

  “Was it like when we fought Igi-igi?” Raine asked me.

  I nodded. “Same story. We wounded her, and she healed right through it. I saw her Urn fragment, though. If we want a clean shot at it, we’re going to have to move twice as fast and hit twice as hard.”

  Nanda lowered himself between us, the Soul Glass wrapped in cloth cupped in his hands. Raine left the window and joined us. As Nanda peeled the cloth away, the room lit up in forest green.

  The Soul Glass’s green deepened and shifted with the firelight; blues and peach tones moved inside it, like something was swimming in the glass.

  “It feels powerful too,” Nanda said softly. “Unlike anything else… almost alive.”

  “What about when you read its aura… You know, with your Veclan eyes?” I asked.

  He focused on it, and his pupils changed shape slightly, the blue of his irises deepening, and his gaze fixated on the Soul Glass. He turned the glass slowly in his fingers. “It’s like when I look at you, Brother Erik,” he said softly. “Multiple souls. Many souls, layered on top of another, within the glass. It shines like a rainbow seed.”

  I reached out to touch the soul glass when footsteps on the ladder stopped my hand.

  Guru Kael’s round face popped up first. “Ah, my children. You made it back!” He climbed onto the floor, Rasa following with his quiet, drifting steps, Leace emerging behind them and closing the trapdoor.

  “Gurus,” Leace said immediately, gesturing to Mel and me. “Recovery, please. They pushed Pulse too far.”

  Rasa’s gaze passed over us, and he slowly walked over. Kael shuffled forward, grabbed both our faces at once, and peered into our eyes.

  He frowned. “Head Crier,” he said. “Why do these two show such severe Pulse degradation?”

  Leace stiffened. “I had no choice, Guru—”

  “The choice,” Kael said sharply, “was that you were supposed to fight while they escaped. Not the other way around.”

  “Guru, you see, Clover and the others, they—” Leace began. Her voice was smaller than I’d ever heard it. “And Mel and Erik, they had their transformations which—”

  Rasa turned to her and frowned. “The critical mission above all,” he asked quietly, “was what?”

  “Survival of the… prophecy one,” Leace said, staring at the floor.

  “Then why,” Kael snapped, “were they in such danger that they used a Breath as risky as Pulse?”

  Leace’s shoulders shook. Behind the hard lines of her face, grief and anger churned like a storm.

  “Could you get off her case for a second?” Mel said, pulling her jaw free of Kael’s grip. Mel’s voice came out hoarse. “It was our idea. Erik and I have the most combat experience, and we had just watched three of your Criers die in front of us, even while using Pulse. I don’t see you asking about them. If Leace had stayed alone, she would have been torn apart before we reached the door. This was the only plan we had to stall Nerida.”

  Kael rounded on me. “And if you had died, your ‘only play’ would have crushed the last hope of a successful revolt.”

  “Oh, fuck off with your revolt,” I groaned. “We told you from the start we’re here because our causes line up. If those Siblings gorge on our friends’ souls, they’ll eventually come to crush the remaining Cinders. We fought and stayed because that’s what Cinders do. We wouldn’t stand by and let Leace take on Nerida, when we were fit and ready.”

  Kael opened his mouth to argue, but Rasa put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

  “What is done is done,” Rasa said. He knelt beside me. “We will use Recovery Breath to bring you back to baseline. Then we will debrief with the others.”

  Kael huffed, but said nothing. They both placed their palms on our foreheads—Rasa’s on mine, Kael’s on Mel’s. A faint ring of green mist formed around their wrists, just like when Jorik healed my wounds from Igi-igi.

  Rasa breathed in through his nose. The inhale sounded like waves rolling onto a beach, low and steady. As he exhaled, a stream of cool mist flowed from his lips and seeped into my skull.

  Warm tingling sensations spread across my face. It was like dunking my head into sparkling water. The room’s spin slowed. Aches fell away, and my bones readjusted into their right places. Along my spine, the crystal rods pulsed in rhythm, each beat sending a wash of soothing energy through my veins.

  Next to me, the purple-black poison oozed out of Mel’s wounds, dripping down her arm and pooling on the floor like spilled ink. A faint light throbbed at the base of her skull, traveling down her spine and along her limbs. Her breaths went from ragged to clear and deep.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  After a few more cycles of this healing surge, the mists at the Gurus’ wrists dimmed and their breathing returned to normal.

  “Another Breath technique?” Raine asked, watching. “It looks like what you used when you sealed our backs after the operation.”

  “Exactly,” Kael said, some of his cheer returning. “Recovery. We will teach it to you on the Third Floor. It heals most wounds and clears Pulse backlash.”

  “Any drawbacks?” Raine asked, already pulling out her notebook.

  Rasa stood and helped haul Mel to her feet while Kael offered me a hand. “A moment of blurred vision,” Rasa said. “And fatigue. Small price. But, you can only clear Pulse’s backlash once every few hours. That one is a bit more limited.”

  Mel flexed her arm. The punctures were now fading angry red marks; her skin was pale but no longer inflamed with poison. “Feels way better,” she said. “But I now hate fish.”

  Nanda, still holding the Soul Glass wrapped in cloth, was watching all this with quiet awe. Rasa glanced at him.

  “Be careful with that,” he said, “bring it here.” Then, he headed back toward the trapdoor.

  The main coliseum chamber buzzed like a disturbed hive.

  Aer’s team had already returned from their mission in Nerida’s hall. We joined them near the central floor. Like ours, they had fewer masked Criers than they’d left with. Aer’s jaw was clenched so tight I thought his teeth might crack. Leace went to him, and they drifted a few steps away to talk, heads bent together.

  “You made it! So?” Sora asked, standing with Tevin. “Did you get Soul Glass?”

  I nodded. “We did,” I said. “It was ugly.”

  Tevin’s eyes went wide. “You saw her, too?” he whispered. “The Sibling?”

  I told them about our encounter. The ballroom massacre and the Criers trying to save each other. The treasure room and its traps. Raine’s flight to steal the Soul Glass. Mel and I’s fight with Nerida, and us passing out.

  “So that’s where she disappeared to,” Zenobia said quietly.

  “You ran into her too?” Raine asked.

  Zenobia nodded. “When we reached a large chamber, the Criers and Aer used a Breath to weaken two of the soul conduits. They were then able to shatter them after they used that Breath.”

  “But as soon as they destroyed the second one,” Ruriel said, “Out of a droplet in the corner, the Sibling burst into the room and brutally killed the Masked Criers.”

  Tevin’s hands shook at his sides. “It was awful,” he started. “She—”

  “Tevin,” Zenobia said gently, touching his arm. “Quieter.”

  He swallowed and lowered his voice. “She was about to come for us, but Aer stepped in, and used Pulse Breath. I thought we were about to watch him die too, but she suddenly stopped like something had stepped on her tail. She then called for guards, and dove back into the same droplet of water.”

  “It must have been when she sensed you,” Ruriel said.

  Raine rubbed her chin. “Her ability to warp through even the smallest drop of water is dangerous,” she murmured. “We were never safe anywhere in that hall.”

  “Brothers. Sisters…” Nanda said softly.

  We turned toward him. He stood near the stairs leading up to the stands, head bowed.

  “We should have some respect,” he said. “These people lost brothers and sisters in arms. For us.”

  The chamber seeped into silence. Behind Aer and Leace, more Criers had gathered, huddling together, discussing their fallen.

  Nanda looked at the Criers and then back at us. “We should honor the dead. They went on the mission with us, and lost their lives.”

  I looked at Leace and Aer, at the tight ring of masked Criers around them. I saw tears fall behind some of the masks and could feel pain barely contained behind their discipline.

  Nanda was right, honoring the fallen would raise the spirits, and show our thanks.

  “It won’t take long,” I said. “Come on.”

  I leaned in to the others and told them what I had in mind.

  Nanda’s expression lightened. “Good idea, brother,” he said.

  We walked as a group toward the Crier cluster.

  “Excuse me,” Nanda said when we reached them. “Brother and sister Criers.”

  They turned, as if expecting more bad news.

  Nanda lifted his right hand, curled it into a fist, and turned it toward his chest. The Cinder salute. We mirrored him, and bowed deeply.

  “On behalf of the sacrifice your comrades gave,” Nanda said, voice steady, “we honor them. And we thank you.”

  We held the bow. Aer stepped forward. “Rise, children,” he said. “We knew the cost when we chose this. Death is part of rebellion. But, your acknowledgment… helps.”

  We straightened. One by one, different Masked Criers stepped forward, offering forearms, and handshakes. Leace stayed back, but in the yellow crystal glow, I saw her eyes shining, wet. She swallowed hard and coughed.

  “Ahem,” she said. “Enough. We do not have time to sit in our grief. Nerida will be hunting. Erik.” Her gaze cut to me. “Sword. Nanda, Soul Glass. Give them both. We must infuse the blade now while we have the chance.”

  Guru Kael hopped down from the stands and waved a few Criers over with a rolling table. I reached back and unclipped the cursed sword from its sheath. The sword’s whine whistled in my ear as I held it.

  I laid the blade on the table, and Nanda stepped up, unwrapped the Soul Glass, and set the green star beside the sword.

  From a side hallway, Jorik came in with his children at his heels.

  “Where have you three been?” I asked.

  “Eating fish!” his son said with a grin.

  “The most fish ever!” Jorik’s daughter added, practically bouncing.

  Jorik laughed, guiding them toward the benches. “They have never eaten so well,” he said. “It’s a shame we will have to leave this Tier.”

  “You’ll join us to the Third Tier? Don’t you think it will be more dangerous to come with us?” I asked.

  “Igi-igi’s guards have figured out I was helping you,” he said. “According to the Criers intel network, I have a wanted poster in the First Tier now. The Second Tier is too open for us to hide in as well. No, the Third Tier is where we will stay. It’s a large city, like the First Tier. We can blend in better there.“

  Jorik,” Kael said, interrupting. “Please.”

  He motioned to Jorik, and after settling his children down, he joined the Guru at the table.

  “You are going to do it?” I asked him, moving closer.

  “My wife, Ana studied this,” Jorik said. He set a small bound notebook on the table and flipped through it. Diagrams of weapons, notes on Ashsteel blades and Soul Glass, sketches of shards and Urn fragments covered the pages. “She dedicated years to map where the other Ashsteel blades were, and how Soul Glass binds to the metal using Resonance Breath.”

  Kael’s expression sobered. “Ana was an exceptional Cinder,” he said.

  Jorik’s jaw clenched, but his hands remained steady. “She dedicated herself to this moment,” he said. “Sadly, she will never see it fulfilled.”

  “She sees it from the other side,” Rasa said gently.

  Silence breathed between them before Kael clapped his hands softly. “Let us begin,” he said. “Everyone not part of the infusing, clear the floor.”

  The Cinders and non-essential Criers moved back to the benches. Lanterns dimmed until the over head light was focused solely on the table.

  On it lay the sword and the Soul Glass.

  Rasa picked up the green crystal, and conferred in low tones with Leace, Kael, and Jorik. Then all four closed their eyes. A band of pale blue mist formed around their mouths and the backs of their heads.

  “That’s the Breath they used on the conduits,” Tevin whispered.

  A masked Crier leaned in. “Resonance,” she murmured. “It lets you alter materials. They’ve figured out how you can use it to break soul conduits and fuse Soul Glass to Ashsteel. It’s also supposedly how we will destroy the Soul Nexus.”

  The four inhaled together, humming low. On the exhale, they hummed a different tone, like the second note in a chord. With each breath, the mist around their heads glowed brighter and tugged toward the Soul Glass in Rasa’s palm, drawn like smoke through vents.

  Colors within the crystal stirred, swirling like blood in veins.

  After a minute, Rasa pressed the Soul Glass onto the small notch carved into the sword’s hilt. Jorik pressed a finger to a section of Ana’s notes, and the cadence of their chant shifted. The Soul Glass vibrated and it’s shape changed like clay. Rasa pressed down on the gem into the notch and it settled into place.

  The blade then rang like a church bell.

  The air in the room seemed to shimmer like heat off of hot pavement, and the hair on my arms stood up.

  The two Gurus, Leace and Jorik, continued to hum towards the weapon, and the sound grew louder, and the pitch grew higher, until my teeth ached.

  Then, with a clean click, all the noise stopped. The blue mist evaporated. The humming faded.

  Rasa stepped back, breathing a little heavier than before. Jorik’s shoulders sagged, Leace held herself up on the table, and Kael wiped his brow.

  Jorik turned, eyes finding mine in the half-dark stadium seats. “Come,” he said.

  I hopped down from the bench and approached. Up close, the sword looked almost the same, save for the tear-shaped green gem now seated in its hilt.

  “Unfortunately,” Jorik said, “the curse will always remain. The Siblings made sure every Ashsteel weapon had a price sharp enough to discourage rebellion.”

  Kael tapped the table. “But you,” he said, “seem to have found a loophole.”

  I nodded. “Fern uses it,” I said, tapping my temple. “When I am in Third Form he holds it while controlling my snakehead tail. We think it’s because he is the second soul, it doesn’t chew his life the same way.”

  “Convenient,” Rasa said quietly. “Still, be mindful. The blade is stronger now, it will be easier to swing, and can cut the Urn fragments inside the Siblings if you can expose them.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  Jorik leafed through Ana’s notes. “According to her calculations… with each swing you make with this, intending to kill, you will sacrifice six months of your life… if you use it in your own hands. Is that what you’ve experienced already?”

  “Six months,” I said aloud. Then I nodded. “That sounds about right, yeah.”

  I reached down and took the sword.

  The hum rose in my grip, softer and deeper than before, and less shrill. It felt lighter, almost unnaturally so, as if it was hollow. The metal was cool to the touch, yet when I held the grip, I felt a light warmth.

  An urge flooded me—a sudden, hungry desire to swing it, to cut, to see what it could do now. But, I exhaled, and fought down the impulse, and slid it back into its sheath.

  “Great!” Kael said, bouncing once on his heels. “Great, great, great! Children,” he said, turning to face the stands, “do you understand what this means?”

  The room quieted.

  “In almost twenty days, we went from a thinned-out band of rebels bounded by circumstance to eight powerful new Breath users, two Soul Conduits destroyed, and, for the first time in over a hundred years, a complete infused Ashsteel weapon. You may not like or trust prophecy, but tell me, is this not destiny?”

  Murmurs rippled through the Criers. And a brief bit of hope glimmered beneath the exhaustion.

  Rasa lifted his hand, and the noise died.

  “Raise the lights,” he said.

  Lanterns brightened around the room, washing the sandstone walls in warm gold.

  “It is a moment worth remembering,” he said. “But we cannot linger. Two conduits down, means the souls are slowed for two more days. That gives us thirty-two days before they reach the Nexus. So, all Criers and Cinders will move to the Third Tier. In Mammon’s entertainment district, we can hide better, combine with the Criers Seraphina leads, and prepare for our attack on the Nexus.”

  The shift in mood was almost palpable, and the brief hope bent under the weight of anxiety.

  Aer raised his voice. “You heard him. No time to waste. Criers, start packing. We leave at nightfall.”

  People sprang into motion. Some headed for the armory. Others went to the training rooms to strip gear from racks. Jorik herded his kids, talking low and fast, and we headed to our own quarters to grab what little we came with.

  We did not make it more than three feet, though, when Hakashi barreled down the stairs from the above trapdoor, Hyper running right behind him.

  “Bad news! Bad news!” Hakashi shouted, nearly tripping.

  The Gurus turned. “Hakashi,” Kael said. “Don’t tell me… Nerida is already searching house to house?”

  “No,” Hakashi panted. “It is worse… something is wrong with the spire.”

  Leace moved around the table to him, dread already on her face. “Do not tell me—”

  Hakashi met her eyes, breathing hard. “Water,” he said. “A lot of it. All pouring out of the spire like a massive waterfall. It’s—”

  “She is flooding the Tier,” Leace finished, with a grave tone.

  Quiet fell over the room, deeper than before.

  Our nightfall deadline had just vanished, and Nerida was planning to flush us out.

  “Change of plans!” Leace shouted. “We leave, now!”