He arrived in the headmaster’s office within the Teacher’s Tower, found Peter already there and waiting for him. He looked unkempt, as if he couldn’t be bothered to keep himself up, but there was some relief to be had in seeing him in that state.

  He had been struggling with the revetions the moon spirit had left with him, the sudden resurfacing of so many lost memories, of forgotten pces in the pace and the events that transpired within them…and other things.

  There was the matter of all of that guilt and sadness that followed him from the dungeon rooms where he had been kept as a child, certain confirmation his worst nightmares had been truer than his best memories of this pace. Everything that had befallen him, every small victory, every word of encouragement from Lady Tamalsen, from all of those others of the noble caste he had received any kindness whatever from, were recast as condescending reflections.

  His light was dimmed. Darkness lurked behind everything, there if he could only have seen it.

  He sat in the headmaster’s seat, behind the desk, flirted with imbuing the desk with some essence of a simple magic he had learned, to see what it might do. He stayed his hand, instead focused on his friend, who sat with his back against the wall, the harp pying softly to push back the quiet.

  “What did she show you?” he asked. “Your memories…what were they like?”

  “Does it really matter? I can’t change what happened. All I can do now is try to forget about it.”

  “That’s not going to help either of us, and you know it.” Lance said.

  “Remembering didn’t help Sami.” He said.

  Lance stiffened.

  “I know you want to believe we can get out of here somehow, but what if we can’t? This whole thing is crazy, Lance. Did you not hear what Lord Aren said when we met with him. Before that thing awakened this…this….

  “It all just seems so useless.” He turned his gaze to the floor, rubbed his hands together in his p. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

  “That’s why I’m asking you to share your pain with me. Maybe it’ll be an easier burden for us both to carry if we don’t have to do it alone.”

  “But none of this helps us escape. We could try to shadow walk out of here, but the Wraiths would just hunt us down, and they’re so much stronger than we are. And what about our friends? They’ll be stuck here. I don’t think I can stomach the thought of leaving Ariana behind, whether she knows the truth or not.”

  “I feel the same way.” Lance said, easing back against his seat.

  “We shouldn’t trust Lord Aren.” Peter said, finally looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “He might be friendly to us now, but he’ll throw us away as soon as we’ve served our purpose.”

  “You think so?” In truth, Lance had been feeling the same way. He didn’t quite know why he was so averse to trusting Lord Aren. Maybe it was because he had helped him find his steps, had given him a solution to a persistent problem when he was still ignorant to Lothor’s name and nature. Maybe he felt he should trust him on that basis, but he was not sure of the man. He was not entirely sure of Master Gregor either. They had their own wants, and those wants did not seem to align with his.

  “You heard what he said about Sami. He knows what happened to her, and he’s not telling us everything. I think he might have been responsible for it.”

  “He made it sound like she was working with him, too.” Lance said, trying to sound as if he believed his own words.

  “Why wasn’t she with him, then.” Peter said.

  “I don’t have an answer to that.” Lance admitted.

  “Look, if you want to know what happened to me before…well, can you just go first? I’m not ready to…well. I don’t want to talk about it just yet.”

  “Fair enough.” He ran his hand over the desk’s surface, smearing dust around. He wiped it against the underside of his shirt. “I was born in the Eleventh Ward, and that’s where I spent the first three years of my life. I guess I’m lucky it wasn’t longer than that, because I don’t remember much. Maybe it would be worse if I did.

  “My father took us on a trip to the beach somewhere in the Free Lands. I don’t know where. And my older brother was abducted while we were swimming. I never saw the person who did it, but my parents were…well, it isn’t surprising how they took it. When I was three, someone set fire to my family’s house. The roof caved in. My sister tried to save me, but she couldn’t get the door to my bedroom open. I tried to get out through the window, and a Wraith dragged me back. Took me into the shadows. Next thing you know, I was in a cell in this pace.

  “You know the rest. You lived it.”

  Peter flinched.

  “Your turn.” He said. “If you don’t tell someone what happened, you’re going to explode. So out with it.”

  Peter grimaced. “Fine, then. You’re right, okay. It’s just…I never had any family. There’s nothing out there for me to go back to.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “I’m from the Ring of Fire. Ash Isnd. I don’t know who my mother or my father were, but they couldn’t have liked me much because they dumped me on the street. I fell in with a bunch of other kids whose parents abandoned them for one reason or another, and spent the first few years of my life robbing tourists to keep myself fed.

  “There was a woman who saved me from certain death once. She was blind. She sacrificed herself for me. Didn’t matter much in the end, though. Some poachers got me and sold me off to the Wraiths.”

  Cpping from a corner of the room startled both of them. Master Gregor rose out of the shadows with Emma just behind him.

  “Ash Isnd in’t easy to live in, kid. I’d know. ‘M from ‘ere myself.” He said. “That blind dy yer talkin’ ‘bout was a Pyre Magus. Weird thing ‘bout kitunes. We’ve got some quirks other races ‘on’t have. Mos’ ‘on’t even know ‘bout ‘em. Bet you never been burned before.” He cracked a toothless grin, his silver-eyed gaze settling on Peter.

  “Thought so. Yer not immune ta fire, ‘on’t get me wrong, but ‘s a fair bit harder to burn a kitune ‘an any aught other people. ‘Ere are merenerns all over ‘at region, too. Can breathe under water. Swim pretty well, too. ‘S why ‘ey were never conquered. Lands around Morgrotten were taken by this empire, see, but seein’ as ‘ere capital’s at the bottom o’ that ke, wasn’t much ‘em elves could do but box ‘em in and pretend ‘ey were part of this lovely empire all along.

  “’S neither here nor there, though. Best thing kitunes ought goin’ fer us ‘s a byproduct of blindness. All ‘em Pyre Magi’re blind as bats. Some’re born ‘at way. Some come by it other ways. Blind a kitune, you unlock ten fold the power she might ‘ave otherwise. ‘At woman gave a lot more ‘an you know to save yer skin. So maybe she didn’t love you, but she sure did keep yer ticker goin’ ‘in’t she?”

  Peter stared into his face. A soft chuckle escaped him.

  “Wha’s funny. ‘M bein’ sympathetic.” He elbowed Emma in the ribs. “’A’s the right word, right?”

  “You’re an asshole.” She said. “You can’t see he’s going through it?”

  “’M jus’ trying to lighten the damned mood. ‘S that so wrong?

  “Anyway, I’ll leave ya to it. Emma’s teachin’ you stuff today. I might pass Duardo the torch one day, but we’ll see. Kid’s a good ‘un, but he’s spacey. Forgets a lot o’ shit.”

  He opened his shadow and slid back into it, leaving just Emma in the room with them.

  She panned over Lance and dismissed him. “Neat desk.”

  “You’re kind of a bitch, aren’t you.” Peter said.

  “Your girlfriend is worse.” She replied. “She’s still one of my favorite people, though. I was hoping this piece of shit would bring her for our little rendezvous the other night, but beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged.

  “Don’t talk to him like that.” Lance said.

  “Or you’ll do what?”

  He balled up his fists. There was a lot he could do if he was so inclined, but if he didn’t py her game there was every chance it would get back to Master Gregor, and then who knew where he would nd himself. Whatever peculiar ability he possessed, he was still her subordinate as far as the furnaces were concerned. And he did not have the command over magic she did, either.

  “Rex, Lance. I can defend myself.” Peter said.

  “So…that’s actually what we’re here about. That one’s gonna sit this one out.” She cocked her thumb in Lance’s direction. “You’re the star of the show today.”

  “Shouldn’t I be doing something?”

  “Well as you can hear the spirits already, no. In fact, you should not be. Right now, your friend needs to unlearn some bad habits so we can get him back in their good books. Otherwise, we’re all fucked. See how that works, muffin?

  “Now get the fuck away from that desk. I need it.”

  He obeyed, took up a chair from a stack of them by the wall, and seated himself.

  She took up his old seat.

  “Thanks for warming that up for me.” She spared him an insincere grin, and thumped her palm against the desk’s surface. He heard the echoes of a voice on the air, which he did not recognize.

  “Fun fact.” She said. “Something Master Gregor left out when he was expining about racial quirks and stuff, actually. We all have different elemental affinities. The elements are divided into five houses. Different affinities are more common across races. Kitunes mostly align well with fire spirits. That’s the norm. It’s not always the case, but you throw a rock into a crowd and…you get the point. So that’s where we’ll start.”

  An infographic image materialized in the heart of the office. A disembodied voice unched into an expnation of an aspect of fire magic.

  “Do your people always use this space to train new recruits?” Lance asked from his corner.

  “Most of the time. Unless we run across someone like you who’s already been dabbling.”

  “I wasn’t dabbling.” He said.

  She rolled her eyes. “Anyway. We’re doing the learning. The learning is king. Let’s all listen to the dumb ass who put this lesson together, shall we? It’s important.”

  He nodded.

  “One must simply sit in pensive silence until such melodies as define the cosmic orchestra reveal themselves to his ears. To sit too long in this chaos pces pressure on the mind and soul, opening the possibility for serious injury. As such, it is imperative that the practitioner of magic act decisively to compel what melody he seeks into his direct control.”

  “Wrong.” Emma said.

  “At which time, and under his guidance, he can manipute it with his will.”

  She removed her hand from the desk. The image colpsed, and the voice was silenced.

  “That’s about what you learned, right?” she asked Peter.

  “Pretty much.” He said.

  “Yeah, so that’s the problem. Those sounds you hear when you try to shadow walk are actually cries of pain. The spirits don’t like being maniputed that way. Sure, you can do it just like that, and you’ll get consistent results that way, but you shouldn’t be using that method as a first resort.

  “The only time it’s appropriate to force a spirit to comply with you is when it refuses to and you’re in danger. Got it?”

  “Sure.” He said. “So, what am I supposed to do instead.”

  “Learn to call it by its name. Understand what the thing you’re trying to use is. That is has feelings. Once you’ve got a handle on that, you might be able to call on it without too much resistance.

  “And that’s the other thing. Those spirits you’re trying to call…the reason you tap out so fast when you do call on them is because they’re actively trying to resist you. They can’t do much, but they can make it harder on you when you try to use their power, which means the shelf life for how long you can draw on it is a lot less time, and you’ll be a lot more tired when you finally let them go.”

  “Okay.” He said. “Still don’t see how I’m supposed to pull them in if I can’t hear them.”

  “Well, honey bunch, you’re in luck. Because I can. And so can he. And that means we can, between the two of us, get those little bastards here for you to conversate with.

  “So, without further preamble, and because I’m wasting a perfectly good day off teaching you manners, let’s begin, shall we?”

  She called the name of a spirit, and the little fox Lance had st seen when the Thorn had sought to test him materialized at the foot of the desk.

  “Figure out what she is, and she’ll tell you her name. That’s the basic concept.” Emma said.

  “A new one, huh?” the fox snickered. “Well, I suppose Phia isn’t of much use in this environment.”

  “Exactly why I chose you.”

  “Are you talking to one of them?” Peter asked.

  “She is.” Lance answered. “One I don’t know.”

  “Which means you can’t help your buddy.” Emma thumped the desk. “Isn’t that just so delightful?”

  “Do you hate everyone?” the spirit asked.

  Lance guffawed.

  Emma gred at him. She turned her gaze on Peter. “Just…listen. Try not to judge. And if you bumble fuck your way into that stupid tidal zone that sound like a bunch of soloists pying on top of each other, lean into it. That’s where the magic happens.”

  “Literally.” Peter crossed his arms. He leaned back against his chair, and closed his eyes.

  “I am here. I am waiting.” The spirit said. She repeated those simple statements like a refrain.

  Lance watched intently as Peter navigated the channels of what magic was known to him. It was no brief thing, him coming around to the truth, hearing what was pin to everyone else in the room, and Emma did not seem surprised by this. If Lance’s apparent aptitude for these dealings had revealed itself swiftly, it was a fluke of his being who, and perhaps what, he was.

  Peter screwed up his face, hunting for something which ought to be pin before him.

  “He is distracted.” The spirit said. “There is a block.”

  “What kind of block?” Lance asked.

  The spirit turned her gaze on him. “He is no Seem. No, I should not expect it to be so simple a thing, him coming to hear my voice. But there is something in his soul. I can feel it. Instability in the connection, which lives in his mind.”

  “He’s still…” Lance climbed out of his seat.

  “Let him work.” Emma said.

  “No, I don’t think I will. Did you not hear her?”

  “I certainly didn’t.” Peter grumbled.

  “Should I be mad?” Emma said. “I think I should. I should be very mad.”

  “You clearly are.” Lance said. “But you’re missing an important detail in your calcutions, here. Peter wasn’t aware of any of this before he was struck down by that woman.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “The peacock.”

  “Still not sure I—“

  “Look, I realize you don’t remember much before they shunted you out of that pce in the dungeons. I wish I didn’t know how to get there, but I do. Same with the other pce. There are things in this pace that you should be gd you don’t remember. I think that’s what’s holding him back.”

  “I’m right here, you know.” Peter said.

  Lance sank onto his haunches.

  “It’s okay.” He said.

  “Is it?” Peter rexed a hair, accepted a small measure of comfort from his friend.

  “There’s no defense for what they did. I don’t bme you for feeling the way you do about it. And maybe…maybe some petty success isn’t what you need right now. This can wait. Right now, I think you need to process what you’re dealing with, and figure out how to cope with it.

  “This will still be here when you’re ready.”

  “So I’m wasting my time.” Emma groused, scowling.

  The spirit shed a gre on her.

  “Everything in its own time.” She said.

  “Before you go,” Lance said to the spirit. “The spirit who did this. Who is she?”

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. I cannot give you her name. It is hers. She is the ruler of the House of Sa. That is all I can say. All else of her nature, she has told you.”

  “Thank you, but that’s not why I asked.”

  A pause as the spirit contempted him.

  “I wondered if she could help him.”

  “The mind is not her domain. That spirit will not help him either. Strength from within is the most stable kind. It requires no aid to sustain itself.”

  She faded away, leaving just they three to fill the room.

  “She’s gone.” Emma said dejectedly.

  “You summoned the wrong spirit, anyway.” He said.

  “Who would have been better?”

  “Someone he’s already familiar with.”