Five days had passed and the overswarm grew thicker. Decklan had raided his plank stash and reinforced windows and doors. He’d made so many stews people willingly took dried rations and retreated to their rooms, locking doors and dining alone.

  The solitude was accompanied by thickening of mana to a level Declan had never felt before, and it came with a notice.

  Attention Academy: Predicted peak of swarm will occur in the next twenty-four hours with one afterswarm. Please do not leave shelter until ArCore clears your house. The Blood Mist Spiders are not strong but they are particularly deadly. Make wise decisons.

  Declan hadn’t needed to pull all night vigils, but he did see this as an opportunity. He took out Eden’s wake potion and uncapped it. It smelled like black coffee that had been boiled in an armpit with rotten egg. A sip tasted worse, but the electricity that zinged down his spine felt like fire and ice and lightning all at once.

  Perfect.

  He settled onto his bed and heaved his mana bearing into his lap, falling into concentration as he drove his will into the orb. Hours passed, but exhaustion didn’t chase him. His focus only grew as each breath grew harder to draw and it felt like the world weighed down, pressing alongside his will. His actions were no longer random, they were guided by a memory and a feeling. The broken rune Harris had crafted wasn’t functional, but the feeling, of enough drove him onward.

  How many hours had it been? He couldn’t guess, but mana howled and swirled outside and he’d grown oblivious to the thunps and scratches at the windows.

  CLICK.

  Progress at 100%: Mana Stone Bound

  The world aligned for just a moment. And for the first time in near a decade, the bearing didn’t just resist mana, it refused. This wasn’t the stubborn refusal of a petulant child, it was mathematical fact. It didn’t accept it because it couldn’t.

  The bearing wasn’t just warm, it was blazing hot under his touch, a feeling that triggered a memory. Declan held it with both hands—and failed. Then set it down on the stone floor, reaching out with an exhausted mind to push. It didn’t just wobble, it rolled. It rolled straight away from Declan, who had almost no mental experience, but now he pushed another way, and another, gradually finding the touch that kept it moving in a jerking arc. So close, he stood in the middle of the room. That stupid potion had given him hours when Eden promised days, but he was determined to make it work.

  Left, down—too far, back, up, left. No, that was the wrong way to think of it. Left-and-down, left-and down, right and down, right and down, up and right, up and right. Just a bit more, he guided it through the final arc.

  His every instinct screamed this was the key, up and left, up—the bearing reached its starting point on the most shaky orbit in existence, and something activated deep in Declan’s soul. Then the mana around him began to rush, exploding inward, pushing on him as hard as he’d done to complete the bearing.

  He would have screamed but that would require taking a breath and Declan couldn’t possibly breathe, not with the world standing on his chest. The torrent of mana went on, pushing, crushing and at last he lost consciousness, dragged under into sleep.

  ###

  “Declan?” A woman kept calling his name, and Declan had no idea why. There was no reason for anyone to call him. He tried to settle back down into the dream haze but someone kept using his name as a club, driving him to consciousness as though it wasn’t a crime. “What?”

  Then the sense inside him yanked on his soul. Something was wrong in House Ariloch. He didn’t know how he knew, he just knew it. He was on his side in moments, knees moments after that and if he couldn’t walk he could crawl to open the door. And every inch of his skin itched in a way that could only be solved by tearing it off.

  Lake Domine stood outside. “They’re forcing the door open. I’m sorry but they’re soldiers. I can’t take on two soldiers.”

  Decklan didn’t so much walk as stumble out, scratching the whole way. The House Sullivan guards who had claimed treaty hacked at the braces he’d nailed to the floor and now they turned on him. “We demand exit or you’ll be declared in violation of the treaty.”

  “Did the ArCore call us clear?” he asked. His teeth itched. The insides of his eyelids.

  “That doesn’t matter,” said one of the guards. “We have a very limited window to unseal the young master’s arcsoul with the afterswarm and we have orders to be there. You’ll open the door or we’ll break it down.”

  “Lake.”

  She shook her head. “I could easily kill one of them. Either one, but both? That’s too much. As long as there’s two, I can’t help.”

  There were statements that would set someone at ease and there were ones that definitely did not, and Lake’s calm assessment had both guards near panic. “Final warning. We’ll kill you and everyone else on the way out if we have to.”

  “I don’t want to see you try but I do want to see the aftermath.” Lake pushed herself to stand upright. “Who wants to go first?”

  “Stop!” Declan ordered, clamping his hands under his arms to keep his fingernails attached. “Let me get my toolbox. Those aren’t wards, they’re boards. I can remove them with a hammer.”

  “The plan was to go out the window, but it’s too high,” one of the guards said.

  Declan rushed to grab his tools and carefully worked the boards loose. The tip of a claw hammer was almost perfect for relieving the itch in the small of his back. “There could be anything out there.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Your problem will be in here if that door isn’t open,” one guard answered. The other had kept both Sullivans behind him.

  Declan glanced to Lake. She was the most accomplished arcanist, but now they had a crowd. “If you can fight, get ready.”

  He yanked the door open and used it to shield himself. Also to scratch his nose and forehead.

  Outside, it was sunset. Dead spiders the color of drying blood litered the lawn and hung from the fences, but nothing waited. The Sullivan guards ushered their wards through and Declan closed, barred and barricaded the door. “Everyone else waits for the clear.”

  Then, as they began to drift back to their rooms, he hobbled to Lake, wondering if he could attach sandpaper to the inside of his shirt. “Thank you. I swear, I won’t keep calling on you to back me up. I’ll get my own strength.”

  “Where have you been?” she asked. “That stew was getting old but it’s been four days with no sign of you. I was this close to summoning Medical.”

  “Days?” Declan couldn’t help clawing at his neck. “I took a potion to help me focus. I thought it was nine, maybe ten hours.”

  Lake spun and headed for her room. “You took one of Proctor’s Potions? Those are basically failure in a bottle. If they do what she says they do, the price is never worth the prize. Why would you risk that?”

  Declan caught her at the door. “I thought it might help me get control of a rune-stone. My parents gave me a mana-stone when I was ten. I figured that was the perfect moment to take control.”

  “Did you?”

  He nodded with a smile. “I can’t make it orbit and when I came close it made me really sick.”

  “No arcsoul,” Lake said, not attempting to reach her room. “If you orbit a mana stone, you’re drawing in mana but you’ve got nowhere for it to go. Mana burn is real. That’s effectively what they’re going to do to the kids. Drug them, put them at a mana focus and let the after-swarm burn their arcsoul open.”

  It sounded cruel. It didn’t surprise him. “Now I need a rune-stone. Is there any chance I can have one of the bat ones?”

  “First, no. Second, those are tier two,” Lake said. “Trying to start with a tier two would be like trying to lift a horse when you’re recovering from starvation. All the will in the world won’t make it happen. Go see Instructor Skinner. He’ll test you again. Right now, don’t do anything stupid like try to orbit a mana stone. It’ll just make you sick. You reek, so go bathe. Then I wouldn’t mind some more stew.”

  ###

  ArCore declares the overswarm complete. Afterswarm is in progress but contained. Please resume normal class operations starting in one hour and forty minutes. Be mindful of blazed-beasts until afterswarm completion and happy hunting.

  Declan unbarricaded the doors and threw them open. Arcanists swarmed from House Ariloch, and they weren’t alone. Chen Rivers had volunteered to stay at the front door and at least scream if something attacked, while Lake claimed the only thing she wanted was twenty four hours of sleep. The fresh air was welcome because after so many days sealed, the house smelled like dirty laundry and old stew.

  “Declan!” Eden shouted from across the way as she crossed the front of House Ariloch. “Congratulations on surviving. Oh my god, is that stew? It smells delicious. Leave the house for a little while. Everyone who didn’t get to hunt is out for rune-shards.”

  “That potion. How long does it take to stop itching?” Declan asked.

  “ A few.” She waved to Harris, who looked stressed. “I’m declaring it lunch time by order of me. My authority.”

  “Seconded.” Harris looked like he hadn’t slept in ages. “I haven’t slept in days. And no, I wasn’t desperate enough to take that potion. A few hours of itching became a few days of itching which became three weeks last time.”

  “That’s why they’re cheap.” Eden led the way to the commons cafeteria. “Gods I hope they have stew.”

  Over lunch, Harris broached a sensitive subject. “Dearest workman Declan, say someone was practicing inscription and broke a sink. And a drain. And some water lines. How would one go about not flooding the first floor?”

  “Am I even allowed in your house?” Declan asked. “Won’t someone ask me for a passphrase and then I won’t know and I’ll be killed?”

  “Too much work,” Harris said. “Everyone, we’ll be right back. We just need to stop the constant flow of water.”

  House Harding was magnificent. The floors were polished wood, the arclights muted and gentle, the commons room held a roaring fire and everywhere, Artificers sat, conversing, or napping.

  Harris stopped just inside the door. “This is Declan Thorn, house arcanist for Ariloch. If you see him, make sure to ask the pass phrase. He’s here to deal with the flood.”

  “The pass phrase is thank the gods!” someone shouted.

  “How did you do this?” Declan asked as he wrenched off the water. “The sink is broken. The drain is gone. The pipes are...where are they? And why were you inscribing stones in the bathroom?”

  Harris fell quiet as the rush of water became a drip and then just the gurgle of the drain. “My apartment is on the other side of this wall.” He leaned out and shouted. “Good news! The flood has ended!”

  When they returned to the commons, Roland had joined them. “What’s the rule? No house work during lunch. You owe me.”

  “You’d say that even if I didn’t,” Harris spat back. “Declan has officially survived a trip to another noble house. He didn’t get asked a passphrase or murdered for not knowing it.”

  Roland was rarely serious, but he sat up and focused. “During a house war? It’s bad. It’s really bad, every bit as bad as you’re imagining. House wars aren’t supposed to extend to the academy but that rule doesn’t mean anything because they usually start here. For nearly a month Eden and I couldn’t be in the same room. It would be a betrayal. It’s every bit as fucked as it sounds.”

  Declan wanted a change of subject. “I managed to control a mana stone. It took Eden’s potion and the surge but I did it. I actually did it. Don’t ask me to orbit it, makes me sick. Really, really sick.”

  “Congratulations! I bet against you, but congratulations,” Roland said giving him a slap on the back. “There are a thousand benefits to being registered as a full arcanist even if you never work as one. You know why? No one wants to risk you having a rune they don’t know about. Look at Eden. Defective arcsoul, no one will ever, ever cross her.“

  Eden shuddered. “We don’t need to talk about that. They won’t cross me because I have connections.”

  “That’s why you and I get along so well. I make connections. Don’t be afraid of your rune. You don’t need to control it for it to have the effect you want. In fact, the more you embrace that, the less you have to use it.” Roland stood up and shook. “I gotta head back. Some of those Edel shit-heads got busted letting blazed beasts inside during the swarm to hunt them, they’re being punished by cleaning my house.”

  Declan didn’t need a special sense to detect awkwardness. “Thanks for the potion. If there is a river in your bathroom, you know, somewhere it shouldn’t be? Please don’t wait for it to make a waterfall before you call.”

  “I’m not an idiot. Unlike someone here.”

  There was that feeling again, the gnawing at the pit of his stomach. “I have a weird question. I’ve been getting these hunches. Like I ate a week old stew, only without the shits.”

  “House-sense,” Eden said. “During swarms it’s terrible. Worse than my potions by a mile. You’re literally surrounded by the blazed beasts. Usually takes a couple months to develop but Wormy swore he could feel things a week after he moved in. I wish it were more useful.”

  “I wish I could turn it off,” Harris added. “I do not want or need to know if there’s an argument in the commons. I do not need to feel it just beneath my navel.”

  “And words? You see words?”

  Harris began laughing. “If I did, I’d go straight to Medical and stay until I didn’t. House Sense is normal, you’ll get used to it.”

  Something wasn’t right, and Declan was determined to find out what.