2

Other books by E. Jade Lomax.

The Alliance Trilogy
Sneak
Liar (coming soon)
The Leagues and Legends series
Beanstalk: the adventures of a Jack of All Tales

For Julie Ray.

Without her, this story would not be the same
and neither would I.

Beansprout.
the adventures of a Jack of All Tales.

book one of the

Leagues and Legends series.

by E. Jade Lomax

Table of Contents
Chapter One. This is a Hero Story. 11
Chapter Two. The Best Fish and Chips in Town. 13
Chapter Three. The Beginnings. 44
Chapter Four. Mr. Thorne. 46
Chapter Five. Obituaries I. 76
Chapter Six. Study Buddies. 78
Chapter Seven. Obituaries II. 106
Chapter Eight. Test Scores. 108
Chapter Nine. Other People. 140
Chapter Ten. Just Dont Get Caught. 142
Chapter Eleven. Eighteen Months Ago. 164
Chapter Twelve. Taken. 170
Chapter Thirteen. The Ballad of Laney Jones. 194
Chapter Fourteen. Touch. 200
Chapter Fifteen. Where Are You Going, Hero Boy? 202
Chapter Sixteen. Rain. 216
Chapter Seventeen. Coming Home. 218

Chapter Eighteen. How Do You Say Friend In ? 250

Chapter Nineteen. The Luckiest Man Alive. 254
Chapter Twenty. What It Is To Shatter. 272
Chapter Twenty-One. Dont Expect Me Back. 276
Chapter Twenty-Two. A Misdirect. 288
Chapter Twenty-Three. Promises to Keep. 290
Chapter Twenty-Four. A Light to Burn By. 300
Chapter Twenty-Five. Miss Jones. 316
Chapter Twenty-Six. The Rift. 318
Chapter Twenty-Seven. In the Footsteps of a Giant. 326
Chapter Twenty-Eight. A Light Within. 328
Chapter Twenty-Nine. Into the Fire. 336
Chapter Thirty. A Light Spilled. 338
Chapter Thirty-One. Obituaries III. 346
Chapter Thirty-Two. Rebuilding A Life. 350

10

Chapter One. This is a Hero Story.

This is a story that believes in heroes in the same
way it believes in forest fires, or apples dropping to earth,
or stairs in a mountainside.
Heroes are destructive.
They are inevitable, inexorable, and drawn to fall.
They are built.
The Academy believed in heroes in the same way
it believed in uniforms and old family names. Heroism
was tangible and came with a badge attached.
Jack Farris believed in heroes in the same way the
town built up along the banks of the river believed in
flotsam.

11

12

Chapter Two. The Best Fish and Chips in

Town.
Jack poked the fry into the last condiment to grace
the rickety wooden table. Hed already explored the
ketchup, the vinegar, and a dark and glutinous sauce hed
never seen before, which had turned out to be rather sweet
and fishy. Hey, I like this one, he said, nudging the boy
next to him.
You would, said Grey, and grabbed a handful of
plain fries before going back to his book.
There were four other people at their table, but
five chairs. Jack had his Academy jacket thrown across
the back of his; Grey had probably forgotten his jacket in
their dorm room, which was just as well since the kid
tended to drown in it. Ruperts was folded beside his
empty seat, the edges precisely creased.
Im sorry, I have to study tonight, Laney said.
Jack swirled another fry through the vinegar and chewed
while he watched the show happening across the table.
Laney was cutting a fry neatly in half while Clement
scooted his chair toward her as subtly as a 511, wellbuilt combat specialist could.
We could study together, said Clement.
I dont think our disciplines overlap much, said
Laney.

13

The fifth and last member of their assigned study

group gingerly placed a pitcher of fizzy lemonade on the
table. Rupert moved with his vague and customary air of
apology as he slid into his seat.
So, Sally-Annes Fish Shop, said Grey,
dubiously, just quiet enough for only Jack to hear. Not
sure what Grey cleared his throat and skewed his
voice haughtily (it sounded odd coming out of the
scrawny
fifteen-year-old)
Rupert
Jons
W.
Hammersfeld the Seventh is doing dragging his study
group to a downriver greasy spoon.
Jack grinned at him. He was twenty to Greys
fifteen, one of them having sauntered in cheerfully late to
the Academy and the other having squirmed in early a bit
against the rules. The crowded room around them was
loud, chatter resounding off wood walls. Maybe he tried
to choose a place that would make the people with less
than three last names not feel as uncomfortable. Jack
added, He probably has a pamphlet somewhere on How
to Be a Good Team Leader.
Grey turned a page. The lower half of his face was
hidden behind the book but the crinkles around his eyes
betrayed his amusement. Which recommends Organizing
Casual Communal Meals in order to Facilitate Team
Bonding after a Task Has Been Achieved?
Two men came in the door with a frenzied tinkle
of the bell over it. Jack shifted in his seat as Laney
quizzed Rupert on point distributions and project
requirements for their next group assignment (the hero
major looked weary, but Ruperts pamphlet probably also
required a Good Team Leader to Listen Attentively). The
men wore dark greatcoats against the chill that had
accompanied the ending autumn months. They must have
let in a gust ina strong one, to reach their little table in
the backbecause Jack felt a shiver go down his spine.
Jack!

14

Jack jerked his attention back to the conversation.

Rubbing the chilled back of his neck, he reminded himself
he was a student. It was someone elses job to be
paranoid.
Jack, can you handle the cultural background
research for the next assignment? said Rupert.
Laney jumped in to specify, Were supposed to
compile
Jack had read the assignment specifications, too,
though probably with not as much fervency as Laney had.
Cant I report on tactics? The Battle at Little Oblong Top
is fascinating.
The guide major? said Clem, leaning forward so
the red band on his arm was in clear view. Clem looked
pointedly at their team leader.
Rupert sighed. Strategy and tactics are
traditionally the combat specs area.
Jack moved to make a gesture, but realized he was
still holding a fry. He said, Ive read translations of
dozens of journals and field reports from commanders,
aides, and soldiers on both sides. I really think Id be
more useful writing on combat for this one.
Farmboys can read? said Clement.
Oh, shut up, said Greys voice from behind
Coastal Ecology Studies Vol II. Jacks from the Forest,
not the inner farm belt. Grey tilted the book down
enough for them to see his dark eyebrows rise up.
Hunter-gatherers, not agriculturalists. Or is that too
many syllables?
Rupert stared resignedly at his fries while Clement
snapped back at Grey, who shifted his book up higher and
ignored him. Get back to me when you can pronounce
agriculturalist, said the boy behind the book.
This is due in three days, started Laney
A gunshot split the idle chatter of the fish shop.

15

The man who had taken the pistol out of his great
coat said, Everyone take a calming breath, and put your
hands on the table. Grey dropped his book with thud.
The man looked their way and Grey scrambled two inkstained hands up onto the rough wood grain. Jack raised
his, too, slowly, while blood pounded in his head; the man
and his gun were already glancing away.
Another man was sliding the doors and windows
closed. Each wooden shutter banged shut into the rooms
crowded silence, the ambient light blocked out little by
little.
Dont look so scared, said the first man, the
talker, grinning. The final window was clapped shut and
the red cookfires made his face ruddy and hollowed.
The room was very quiet, except for a woman
gasping hysterically in the front window booth. A third
man came out through the kitchen door, shepherding the
cook staff out into the main room. He must have come in
the back door. Probably locked it behind him.
Jack pressed his hands into the scratched table, old
carved graffiti sharp under his palms. The men checked
the edges of the room, talked quietly together. Jack could
feel his heartbeat in his chest, the inside of his elbows, in
his throat. He felt helpless and panicked, just a
weaponless redhead a long way from home, taller than
average but with little bulk behind it.
Three menthe talker, the watcher, and the
twitchy one. Jack thought the watcher seemed the most
dangerous. He was quiet with big capable hands and a
gun he hadnt bothered drawing. But then Jack saw the
way Talkers eye kept flicking to the third man, and Jack
wondered why theyd bring a weedy nervous man like
that if there wasnt more to Twitchy than met the eye.
Something banged against the walla branch in
the wind, a rolling tin canand Twitchy jumped, a bit of
startled, startling gold light flashing from his fingers. Jack

16

stared. Ah, then. A mage, and one absurdly strong enough

to call magic accidentally, rather than painfully squeezing
it from the air. Jack felt his stomach sinking to his toes.
Three menand all Jack had were two big
callused hands and a study group who was still worried
about losing points because of grammar mistakes.
Now, everyone, on your feetslowlike, now.
Talker holstered his gun as he spoke. My friends going
to clear you a nice little space to wait for us to finish our
business, alright? Watcher yanked an empty table to the
side, near a windowless back corner of the room, and then
waited calmly for the young couple at the next table to
scramble to their feet.
Leave your jackets, if you can, said Rupert very,
very quietly, rising. Their team leader had sweat beading
on the tip of his long nose, but Ruperts hands were
mostly steady as he knocked his own into the shadow
under their table. I dont want them thinking were
trouble.
Troublebecause they were Academy students
and dealing with lawbreakers like this would, one day, be
their job. Jack backed towards the corner, trying to keep
an eye on the men with the guns. He kept getting
distracted by the terrified shuffle of feet along the floor,
or the sight of a toddler in his mothers arms, wiping
mustard on the collar of her shirt.
One day theyd be trouble for the kind of men
whod walk into a crowded shop and fire a warning shot.
For now, they hid the recognizable bits of their Academy
uniforms under the table and Jack walked to the corner
with the others, like a good sheep, and felt sick to his
stomach with more than just dread.
Jack had been able to drop his uniform jacket off
his chair quietly, but Laney and Clement had both been
wearing theirs. Laney wasnt as tall as Jack, but she had
an inch even on lanky Rupert; she bent her knees to hide

17

her height and tried to shuck quietly out of her jacket in

the crowd.
Anyone armed? Hand it over. Youre not going
to like what we do if we find we have to revisit this
conversation later, now, children.
Clem, said Rupert quietly.
Clement shook his head, a miniscule movement.
His miniature battle axe, its edge sheathed in leather, had
been tucked into the back of his pants. He kept his back
carefully to the corner.
Clement, do what he says.
Just because youre the team leader for our study
group doesnt mean you get to call the shots here, said
Clement.
Youre going to get us all shot, hissed Rupert.
One of the townspeople between Clement and the
back corner raised his hand and said, Um. Hes got a
little axe in his back pocket.
Clem raised his hands slowly as Talker pointed his
gun at his face.
About a twenty-five foot distance, thought Jack.
Very few guarantees he can make that shot without hitting
a civilian.
Clement said, Okay, yeah, you got me. He
moved to grab it. Ill just toss it over.
Hands up, said Talker. Thats a throwing axe,
if its small enough to fit back there, and youre an
Academy combat specialist.
Got me again, said Clem, who was still wearing
his jacket, the combat spec red band clear and bright
around his upper arm. He raised his hands up in front of
his face and walked slowly toward the gunman.
When Clem got close, Talker twitched the gun to
the side. Turn around, he said.
Okay, said Clem. Instead, Clem knocked the
gun to floor and socked Talker across the jaw. There was

18

a shocked moment of silence as the gunman slammed into

the ground.
Three feet away, Watcher calmly drew and shot
Clement in the thigh.
There was a moment of chaos Clem dropped
with a grunt and a thudTalker scrambled for his lost
gunJack stepped toward his bleeding classmate, but
Twitchy, who had been lurking in the back until now,
gathered up some magic and threw a burning gold lump
of it at Jacks head.
Hey, said Laney. She looked startled when the
magic bucked and swerved at her gesture. Twitchy
yanked again and when she yanked back the magic
spiraled rapidly over to their group. She snatched it from
the air, buried her hands in it and pulled it apart,
dispersing the fiery lump in a flurry of tired gold sparks.
The hysterical woman was crying in the back
again. One of the fry cooks had joined her, sitting beside
her and taking gulping, panicked breaths.
Grey was gripping his book, which he had
declined to leave at the table. The fading light of the
magic lit his pale cheeks.
Just let me take a look at his leg, said Jack, both
hands up in front of him. Whatever you three are
planning on doing, I have a feeling you dont want
murder added to your list. Jack took a hesitant step
forward. You dont want him to bleed to death. No one
went for their guns. Jack moved forward as purposefully
as he could, kneeling beside the combat spec, who was
curled up around his left thigh. Clems face was nothing
but stark, clenched lines.
Drag him back to the group, said Watcher. His
voice was unexpectedly high for a man with shoulders so
broad; Jack wondered if hed had a life of bullying before
hed grown into them.

19

Hes injured, said Jack. Id rather keep him

still.
If youre in among civilians instead of crouching
within arms reach of us, Longshanks, said Watcher,
youre less likely to do something stupid.
Jack wet his lips. My mama raised me not to do
stupid things, sir, he said. Okay, Clem, you dumbass,
were gonna pull you back a couple feet, okay? Im gonna
grip you under the shoulders, like this, okay, just a couple
of feet, here we go
Clement let out a squeak which Jack, out of the
kindness of his heart, would later tell him was very manly
as the foot of his injured leg dragged over the rough
planks of the floor.
Jack laid his shoulders back down, careful with his
head (even thick skulls bruise). There we go, aint
moving anywhere else, bud. Breathe.
Why look at this, said Talker, a little baby
League. I see weve met your combat spec. Do they
screen them for brains that little? Laney had stopped
pretending not to stand tall. Grey stood in her shadow, ink
on his nose, book still tight against his chest. A pretty
little mage, said Talker. And I bet the imps your sage.
One, two, three little baby adventurers. That leaves two
more to make a League
Kneeling beside his patient, Jack pulled a knife
from a back pocket and cut open Clems left pant leg. The
wound in the outer thigh was bleeding, strong and
sluggish, but the ugly puckered hole hadnt seemed to hit
one of the major arteries. If Jack had had the leisure, he
would have given a relieved sigh.
Jack pulled off his cotton shirt, wadding it up and
pressed it to the wound. Rupert? Hold this. Might as
well make the blueblooded paper-pusher useful. Yeah,
good. A little more pressure.

20

Hey, Longshanks, snapped Talker, hand going

for his gun again. What was that we said about weapons
earlier?
This? said Jack, glancing at the knife was using
to cut strips of the shirt that another customer had offer to
him. The shirt was streaked with brick dust, but Jack
figured they would worry about cleanliness a little later.
Its a knife. You have guns, you noticed that, right?
(There wasnt time for relieved sighs, no, but there was
always time for sarcasm).
Slide it over, nice and slow.
Jack finished cutting another strip, then turned on
his knees to look dubiously at the man. Really? Im a
guide, man. I clean armor and know how to follow
breadcrumbs. Im not trouble.
Talker twitched two fingers. Jack blew out
irritably and slid the knife hilt first across the floor. Talker
caught it under the toe of one shoe and kicked it to the far
corner. Clem groaned. The shirt under Ruperts hands was
soaking through at the edges. Jack gathered what strips he
had cut from the bricklayers rather sturdier shirt and
went to work binding the wound.
So if hes the guide, then I guess that makes you
their hero.
Rupert moved his hands slightly so Jack could get
at Clems leg to bind it.
Talkers eyes narrowed in recognition. Hey, look
at me, Pinocchio.
I got it, Rupert, said Jack. Just got to raise his
leg a bit. Itll keep the blood from flowing so much.
Why look at this here, boys, said Talker,
smiling, his jaw already red and swelling from the punch.
We have a hero of heroes in our midst. Rupert Jons
Hammer-what-the-hell-all-else the Seventh. Youre the
Academy Headmasterss nephew.

21

Pleasure to make your acquaintance, said

Rupert. There was a streak of Clems blood on his left
palm. And you are?
Youre the pride of a bonafide old heroic
familyyou guys go all the way back to the First League,
dont you? Talker laughed. Well, we certainly dont
want to get on your bad side, seeing as youve spent your
time so far sitting very politely in the back with the other
civilians.
Thats me, sir, said Rupert. Polite.
Clem? Cmon, you jackass, dont you faint on
me. Jack wiped his forehead, leaving a streak of red
behind. Hes cold. Hes going into shock. Does anyone
have a jacket to spare? Jack took the shawl from a young
woman with a trembling set of her jaw, a set which
seemed to suggest not fear but fury. Thanks. To the trio
Jack said, Think you could hurry up and finish whatever
youre here for, so we can get this idiot some real medical
care?
Longshanks, Pinocchio, civilians, please stay put.
You keep an eye on them, Talker told Watcher. He
jerked his chin at Twitchy. Cmon, kiddo, said Talker.
Twitchy shuffled forward. He did look younger
than the others, though the still crags of Watchers face
were hard to read an age in.
At the side wall of the shop, Twitchy stopped.
While most mages Jack had seen working had to wring
and beg magic out of the air, Twitchy just scrunched up
his eyes and swept his hands in long lines, leaving
swirling trails of loose gold sparks in their wake. He
gathered up the sparks of each pass into a bundle that
gleamed more and more violently bright with each
addition. Jacks eyes started to water.
Oh, said Grey.

22

What? said Jack, turning to the small sage, who

was hidden up to his nose behind the book he was still
clutching.
Theres a high-end magework shop next door. I
saw it when we came in. Theyre not after the fish shop;
theyre robbing the place next door.
Twitchy drew more glowing gold power into his
hands, until the whole room shone with reflected light.
Grey closed his eyes tight.
Whats
he
doing?
Laney
muttered,
professionally offended. Hes not making any runes or
signs of power. Is he just going to use brute force
destruction?
How is he doing that? said Rupert. No one calls
magic that easy. Grey clutched his book close to his
chest and didnt open his clenched eyes.
Talker covered his ears; Rupert, watching him
carefully, quickly followed his actions. The others were
less speedy and the explosion that followed resounded in
their skulls.
Apparently he can, croaked Jack as the dust
settled. Couldnt you just have gone through their front
door? he called at Talker.
Around them, customers coughed and sneezed
dust away while the young woman whod lent Jack her
shawl cursed up a surprisingly ribald storm.
Talker grinned at him. You know the kind of
security a shopkeeper like Mr. Tanners can afford for his
front door? Blowing through some plywood and mortar is
much easier. Now, shut up, Longshanks, and sit tight.
Talker saluted cheerily with the hand that still held his
gun and he and Twitchy moved through the newly gaping
hole in the wall. Well be back soon, kiddos; cant get
out dear Mr. Tanners front door either. Paranoid old
man...

23

Jack knelt back down beside Clem. Rupert had

never fully stood. What do we do? said Jack very
quietly to Rupert, across Clems pale visage.
Rupert looked back. Like Clem said, Im the
team leader of a study group, not a five-man adventurer
army. You have blood on your forehead.
But this is what were training for, whispered
Jack.
Grey raised his hand. Im training to be a
librarian. Watcher glanced over at the movement, but
seemed to decide that the sage, who only came up to his
rib cage, wasnt much of a threat, hand-raising or no.
What can we do? said Laney.
What can you do with the? Jack wiggled his
fingers surreptitiously.
Her fingers went to the knotted bracelets at her
wrists, counting the ridges of twine. I could make a
shield, but not over everyone
Jack pretended to check the combat specs
bindings. How big?
Eight feet by eight feet, she said promptly.
And it could stop bullets? he said.
Laney gave him a long, dry look. Yes, she said.
That would be the point.
Alright, Jack said, and nodded. Alright. He
moved his hands over the bandages, checking to see how
tight they were holding. Clem was semi-conscious, but
not really attending, his whole face pale.
If all theyre going to do is steal some stuff and
leave, then we should let them, said Rupert.
Are you afraid? said Grey, wobbling down into
a cross-legged seat beside them. Sensible, I mean, good
for you. I just dont expect it on fellows with a blue-andblack heros armband.
Afraid? Yes. Im sane, Rupert said. He looked
sidelong at Jack. And these peoples lives should be

24

more important to you than saving the merchandise and

playing the action hero.
Theres only one in the room right now, said
Jack thoughtfully. If Laney blocks the hole to the shop,
then we could get everyone out before they manage to
break back inif Mr. Tanners front door wards are as
good as they say
Farris. Rupert waited until Jack stopped looking
around the room and met his eyes. It was an impressively
steady gaze for a desk-bound apprentice hero here on his
uncles dime. We are not putting these people in danger
because you want to be brave.
Im not suggesting we do, said Jack.
Rupert blinked.
But if something happensone of them snaps, or
they decide they dont want witnessesthey dont have
masks, Hammersfeld; getting rid of witnesses would be a
really good planthen I want to have thought about our
options now, not while were being shot at.
Rupert blinked again. The fellow with us, he
began finally.
Watcher, said Jack with whispered cheer.
Rupert looked at him dubiously, but didnt protest
the name. He favors his right side when he moves. Old
injury. Knee, I think.
Jack nodded. I didnt spot that. Thanks.
Crashing sounds came from inside the shop,
through the gaping hole in the wall, as though Talker and
Twitchy were looking for something and frustrated about
it.
I think, said Grey, we might have to do
something, no matter what they choose. He scowled.
Well, you. Im going to stay here and be a civilian. His
book had moved down. Now the top of it tucked under his
chin, so it bobbed while he spoke.
What is it, Grey? said Jack.

25

Hes notor he wasnt borna mage, said

Grey. The twitchy one.
Okay, said Rupert, waiting for an explanation.
Laney looked offended. She swept her thick, dark braid
over her shoulder.
The hysterical pair in the back had settled down a
bit. Watcher paced; Jack judged him to be both bored and
nervous. How can somebody not be a mage, and Jack
wiggled his fingers be a mage? Because that hole in
the wall didnt make itself.
Grey rolled his eyes. No, he said. But its
Tucking the book under his chin, he scrubbed his hands
through black hair with frantic frustration, stuck under
three pairs of watching eyes. He didnt like attention.
There are two ways this can play out. Either they
succeed in what theyre doing in there, and he becomes
too powerful to stopor they dont and he explodes and
takes the block with him.
What is he? said Jack.
Explodes? added Laney.
Grey tucked the book under one arm. You know
how mages work, yeah? The Elsewherebig place full of
magic, sideways from our universe. Mages pull magic
through and use it. Of course, this means the Elsewhere
can pull back too, which can be uncomfortable
Yes, said Rupert. Can we get back to the
exploding bit?
There was more frustrated crashing inside the
next-door shop. Watcher had his eyes on the hole in the
wall, tense, and conveniently not on their vaguely
suspicious circle around Clement.
Twitchys not a mage. Hes like you, Jack
normal dude. The Elsewhere couldnt care less about
him.
But he

26

Twitchys infected, said Grey. Or, possessed,

morelike. You know that there are things that leak out of
the Elsewhere sometimes?
Things in the Darkness, said Rupert.
Yeah, those are like magic-possessed shadows.
They eat stray cats here, right? In the mountains they get
big enough in the backs of caves to eat people.
We have some deep alleys. They eat people here,
too, said Rupert. So hes gotten possessed by a Thing
somehow? Watcher glanced their way; Rupert tried to
look worried and busy over Clement. Worried wasnt
hard.
No, said Grey quietly. More like its bigger and
shinier brother. And probably on purpose. Something that
much a part of the Elsewhere lets you pull magic through,
if its in you, even if youre not a mage. But hosting it
isunstable. If they dont find whatever binding
ingredients they need, hes going to shatter and take out a
lot more than just him. Grey scrubbed his rounded nose,
which had a smudge of ink on its tip from reading too
close to the page. Or they do manage to bind it safely
which admittedly no one ever hasand then hell be
more powerful than, well, than every Academysanctioned mage Ive ever heard of. Hell rival the Lady
of the Lake at her most legendary.
Rupert and Jack looked at each other. We cant
take three, said Rupert.
We might have to try, said Jack. Can we let a
time bomb or a superpowered criminal out on the loose?
But it isnt our job, said Grey.
Youre the one who told us the information, said
Rupert.
Well, you seemed like you cared, said Grey. He
scooted a few feet back from them, sat cross-legged, and
dropped his book open on his lap.

27

Youre going to sit there reading? In the middle

of a hold-up? hissed Laney.
Grey shrugged again, eyes tracking the lines on
the page. Not much else to do, other than sit and shake,
and I hate that.
We could wait until they let us leave, said Jack.
Then get the Academy to call an actual League in to hunt
them down.
And when he explodes in the meanwhile? said
Rupert, fatalistically, and sighed.
Or what if they dont let us go at all, or the
League doesnt listen, Jack agreed. Damn, I think were
stuck. Jack rubbed his forehead, looking at the half-open
kitchen door, the shuttered windows.
Grey did his best to appear to be reading furiously.
He hadnt turned a page yet.
This isnt your part of town.
Jack glanced over quickly; he hadnt noticed
Rupert sidling to the edge of the crowd closest to
Watcher. Rupert stood long strides from the gunman. He
looked nondescript without his jacket and blue-black
armband.
I could say the same thing about you, Academy
boy, said Watcher.
Im just here for the fish. Rupert looked side to
side, as though for eavesdroppers, and stepped forward,
asking with quiet worry, But what are you doing here?
This is Shore Knight territory.
It is not, said the woman who had lent Jack her
shawl.
Watcher took a step forward, smiling a few feet
down and several across at her pleasantly round face.
You have something to say, sweetheart?
She crossed her arms, glaring the few feet up and
back. Its my shop, said Sally-Anne. Say whatever you
like about the street outside or the saddlers across the

28

way, but this is mine. She shook a finger at Rupert. He

had three inches on her, she six years and a stern glare on
him. Those Knights have enough authority in this city
without you giving my land away to them. I resent your
implications
Do you really think this is a time for a temper
tantrum? said Watcher as Rupert backed stumblingly
away from Sally-Annes admonishing finger.
And you, she snapped. Her dark, wiry hair,
pulled back in a red kerchief, bounced behind her as she
gave a little hop of rage. Coming into my shopwe are
a respectable establishmentand shooting guns and
threatening patrons and blowing a damn hole through my
wallWHO is going to pay for THAT?and
Staring, Watcher noticed too late when Rupert,
who had been backed up further and further by Sallys
rant, dropped suddenly and swept a long leg around to
knock Watchers feet from under him.
and letting me distract you while little Rupert
moves in close
Watcher went down with a crash, pulling his gun
as he went. Rupert leapt for his arm, slamming him to the
floora shot went off. Watcher shoved the smaller young
man off, sending Rupert skidding away to crash into a
nearby table.
The ruckus had called the attention of Twitchy and
Talker, but their way back in was blocked by the
translucent gold sheet Laney was affixing to the hole in
the walleight feet by eight feet.
Watcher shoved himself to his feet, going for the
gun Rupert had knocked from his hand. The gun had
skidded to Laneys feet. Jack had a moment to hope she
knew how to disable itshe was a mage, maybe she
could melt it?before he tackled Watcher from behind,
getting an arm around his neck, elbow under his chin.

29

Jack tightened his hold, ducking his head as

Watcher tried to grab at him, and held on until the man
went limp. Jack released his hold. Watcher sagged to the
floor.
You okay? Jack called to Rupert, who was
levering himself up using the table leg hed slammed into.
Jack started to move forward; he wouldnt be surprised by
a broken rib at least on the spindly hero. Laney? Can you
keep them from blowing back through the wall in a
different spot?
She nodded, breaking up one of the knots around
her wrists and drawing out strengthening spells to weave
into the whole wall.
Someones shot back here! came the shout. Jack
abandoned Rupert, who at least didnt seem to be
bleeding, and leapt over Clem and into the crowd.
A man (the bricklayer, he lent me his overshirt,
the back of Jacks brain supplied) was lying on the floor,
a hand over the red spreading over his stomach.
Tam, Tam. A friend, another bricklayer, knelt
next to him, panic etched into his features. It had been
their lunch break. They had been gossiping about their
boss.
Jack glanced upLaneys seal on the wall was
still holding, Twitchy and Talker trapped behind it.
Someone go out the front, find a healer. Ill start this, but
were going to need help He slit open the mans shirt
with a knife he hadnt given to Talker. It was bleeding
slowly, in pulses; but Jack couldnt smell anything to
suggest the intestines had been ruptured. He took a shaky
breath, hands hesitantremove the bullet? Staunch the
bleeding and wait for a healer?
Another shot split the air. Nobody move.
Another one? hissed Sally-Anne, in equal parts
fear and exasperation, as a man with a gun stepped
through the kitchen door. He must have come through the

30

kitchens back door originally and stayed there to act as

sentry.
Sentry twitched his gun at Rupert. You there,
back with the group; and Longshanks, hands up. I already
heard your harmless-healer drivel once Jack started to
rise, the bricklayers blood on his hands; he saw Rupert
eyeing him sidelong, like he might have a plan.
There were three more shots. Jack dove for the
ground.
The first bullet impacted the shoulder of Sentrys
gun arm. The next two blew out his kneecaps. He
crumpled. By the back wall of the shop, Laney lowered
Watchers gun.
Well? she said. Someone run for that healer.
One of the shop girls left through the front door at
Sally-Annes nod. Laney lowered her gun and went
cautiously for the ajar kitchen door, to make sure no more
baddies were lurking. Rupert, finally levering himself all
the way up to standing, went to back her up. Jack stayed
with the injured bricklayer, keeping pressure, until Sallys
shop girl got back with the medic.
Got any more tricks up your sleeve? said Jack
with a low whistle, pushing himself to his feet as the
healer took over with the bricklayer. He scrubbed at his
hands with a towel one of the shop girls gave him. Just
burn it when youre done, shed told him.
Laney gave him an unimpressed look. Youre not
the only one who didnt come from a place where food
gets shipped in by barge. She turned to Rupert, checking
the guns chamber. You didnt blink, hero-boy. I know
you read your uncles files, but I didnt think my aim was
something Id shared with the class.
You forget to wash the gunpowder off your
hands sometimes, said Rupert.
A sculpted eyebrow raised. You certainly pay
attention.

31

So do you. It was a question.

Laney smiled lightly. You know things you
shouldnt about the other Academy students sometimes.
Where else would you be getting information like that?
Youre careful, but far from unobvious. I like paying
attention to the people with power.
A bunch of student data trivia isnt power.
Rupert gave a tired, dubious smile.
On the heroes of the future? Laney said.
Knowledge is power. Isnt that why were here?
I think youve got a cracked rib, said Jack. Can
I?
Rupert shook his head. I can wait til we get back
to the Academy. Nursell scold me; itll be fun.
Speaking of knowledge Laney turned to
Grey, who still sat cross-legged, a book in his lap he
wasnt even pretending to read now. How did you
know? said Laney. Aboutwhatever he is. The
possession. He was moving odd, when he cast, but people
have different styles for magic-calling.
You managed to stop that projectile, when he
went after Clement the Belligerently Idiotic, said Grey.
He pushed himself to his feet. His book closed with a
snap against his chest. If you could stop it, I knew
Twitchy couldnt be much of a mage. But then he drew
out all that power, and so easilythere had to be
something more to him. No grip, but the ability to pull
that much power into the world? He shook his head. A
contradiction.
Laney tilted her head slightly. Excuse me?
What?
If I could stop it? she repeated darkly.
Youve got the worst grip foryou know, the
least attractiveness to, the least pull onmagic. In both
years of the Academy mages, as far as I can tell. Grey
shrugged.

32

Jack lunged over, pulling Grey safely out of

danger. He doesnt mean it in a bad way, he said
hastily. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Laneys
golden repair-job on the wall. Twitchy and Talker were
still vaguely visible behind it. What do we do about
them? Get some Academy goons out here?
The Bureau mostly deals with, Rupert hesitated,
traditional adventures. Im not sure theyd know what do
to with a situation like this. Ive never heard of someone
possessed by a bit of magic before.
And we dont want to give them something to
chew that they cant swallow, said Jack.
More than a bit of Elsewhere, said Grey. And
youre right. Its arcane stuff. Anyone know a miko, or a
witch-doctor? No, no, and no? Well, then, I guess were
still stuck leaving it to the authorities. Can we go home
now, study buddies?
Hm, said Rupert.
You do know a miko? Grey sounded equally
impressed and exhausted.
No, said Rupert. But I know someone who
might. You guys go on back to the Academy, though.
Weve done all we can here. They ought to be informed.
He moved through the crowd towards the young woman
whose shawl was wrapped around prone Clement. SallyAnne smiled sweetly up at Rupert as he approached. She
was directing her employees in clean-up.
I sent someone for the Academy, she said.
Hopefully theyll consider it in their authority to pick up
Dumb and Dumber from the magic shop. Id rather not
have to call the Knights for this. At the very least the
Academy folksll get your bleeding classmate off my
floor.
Thanks for the distract earlier, Sally, said
Rupert.

33

You seemed like you were up to something,

Sally-Anne said. Off to consult Sez?
Rupert nodded, snatching his jacket from under
the table and folding it over his arm.
Tell her Im fine before she starts organizing
assault teams out of her seedier acquaintances.
Ill tell her youre a hero, said Rupert.
Dont you go sullying my good name,
Hammersfeld. Sally-Anne ran a hand over her kerchief.
Now get out of my shop and go do what you need to.
Rupert made it two steps out the door before the
others caught up with him. He sighed. How about you
three keep an eye on the two in there, in case Laneys
barrier fades? he offered, rather hopelessly.
I may not have a good grip, said Laney. (Grey
had the sense to look vaguely abashed.) But when I
shape a spell it works.
We want to help, said Jack. What do you need
us to do?
I dont need you to do anything, said Rupert.
Id like to go back to the Academy, said Grey,
tagging along behind Jack as he and Laney followed
Rupert down the packed-dirt street past bulky black
automobiles and tethered horses. Im tired. We just got
shot at.
Our papers not due for three whole days,
though, said Laney. The grin on her face was small and
soaked in curiosity; the other three had never seen it
before.
Rupert went around an electric lamppost and
down the street behind it, which was hemmed in brick
walls. Jack tapped the metal post as he swung around it
too. I really dont need company, said Rupert. Im just
going to visit a friend. The other end of the short lane
between the two brick buildings opened out onto a
bustling street. It was late afternoon.

34

In the fading sun, Rivertown was rollicking. It was

a smelly, lively blight that ran for miles up and down the
wide, slow waters edge, and it was proud to be.
In a shop just off the main drag, a blacksmiths
hammer pounded and glowed, spitting fire, while in the
sooty factory down the street the slender hands of young
refugees turned out buckets of identical nails. A snubnosed midwife was drying herbs in an open window.
Black cloaked and grey cloaked and green cloaked and
was- once- a- color- but- has- seen- a- few- adventures- since
cloaked travelers, plump and severe matrons,
distinguished townsmen and ratty beggars exchanged
words on street corners.
Dust rose up from the wide and bright, the narrow,
the crooked and dark streets, stirred by breezes; by
pickpockets and the police chasing them; by the bouncing
clatter of automobile wheels; by the steady step of
peregrines and others whose feet know walking like lungs
know breathing and crows know mischief, feet who know
they will get there, eventually.
Dust settled, lightly, on the four pairs of
Academy-issue boots of the student adventurers who had
just stepped out of the brick-walled alley and into the
light.
The town continued rollicking. It was used to new
arrivals and to departures and had really stopped noticing,
noting, or caring about one more shanty, one more
pickpocket, or one less peregrine or sharp-nosed
merchant. It considered them all as passing through and it
was right, as cities often are. Its a matter of perspective.
Rupert looked both ways with two quick twists of
his head and crossed the bustling road. Jack scrunched his
toes in his boots and thought about how unlike crowds
were to trees. He eyed a coughing auto, let it pass, then
grabbed the back of Greys shirt and dragged them both
across.

35

Rupert moved quickly along the other side of the

street, past a clay-brick building boasting its supply of
warty toads and travel-size cauldrons. Pigeons hooted and
hopped out of their way, pearly grey wings fluttering
bedraggled feathers. Laney zipped up her jacket.
So, Ive seen you, Jack commented curiously to
Rupert. There was a tacit question in his voice. You
dont do anything more than the basic classwork. Youre
not in the tactics club, or the melee fighting club, or on
the pole-arm team. You do paperwork.
Someone has to, said Rupert. And what about
you? I wasnt the only one trying to pretend I wasnt a
threat in there. You do a good harmless, Farris.
Thats because I am harmless, said Jack
cheerfully. You do a good stick in the mud. Very
convincing.
Years of practice, said Rupert. Also, I actually
am one. He dodged around a sausage stand. Here we
are.
Lunchtime? said Grey, hopefully.
More interesting than lunch, I think, said Jack.
A young woman in her early twenties was standing at the
front of a gap between two buildings. She had a cap full
of coins at her feet and five burning torches in the air.
Heresy, muttered Grey. Unlesshes taking us
to books?
Hey Sez, said Rupert.
The woman juggling fire turned to him and
grinned, adjusting her throws to a more sedate pace. The
flaming sticks whipped up and around over her head in
easy rhythm. Hey, Rupe. Whats the story? Sez eyed
the tall, narrow-shouldered redhead, Laney with her dark
skin and heart-shaped face, and little, fidgety, messyhaired Grey. Field trip? Sez stood about a foot shorter
than Rupert with the same brown skin but more curves.

36

Her hair was a deep black streaked with a darkened

purple.
This is my study group, or most of it, said
Rupert. Jack, Grey, Lanetia. This is Sez.
Sez gave one stick an extra spin before she caught
it, as if it were a friendly hello. Wait, you wouldnt be
Jack Farris? she said.
Jack nodded, startled and a little wary. There are
a lot of Farrises, though, he warned. Not many of us
leave the Forest, but.
You know him? said Rupert.
Sez shrugged (the torches kept tumbling
comfortably). Not really. I pass on letters for him,
sometimes, she said. To Jack, she added, They always
come by the oddest hands.
Jack grinned. Thank you, he said.
Stop socializingdont we have something to
do? So, she knows a miko? whispered Grey. He eyed
Sez from the sturdy boots peeking out from under her
loose pantsto the eclectic collection of strings, ribbons,
and yarn knots that hung from her belt loops and
pocketsto the vague purple shine of her dark hair.
Sez grinned at him, rather sharply. I know
everyone, sweet-cakes. Why do you need a miko? Got
some ghosts you need to soothe? Empathetic little witches
like that are hard to find.
A four man gang just held up Sally-Annes fish
shop, said Rupert.
Sez missed a torch and, scrambling to catch it, let
the others fly. Shes fine, though; theyre locked up
good, Rupert added hastily as he went chasing rolling
batons. Most had gone out when they hit the dirt, though
Sez stomped hastily on the last.
Sez gathered them up, apologizing to the startled
sausage maker, and then turned to glare at Rupert.
What?

37

They came in, fired a warning shot, broke into

the magic shop next door. Theyre holed up in there now,
and Academy folk are on the way. But one of them
Rupert paused. Grey?
See, you need us, said Jack.
I could explain, said Rupert. But as long as I
have an expert at hand, its inefficient to waste him.
Grey rolled up his metaphorical sleeves. One of
the gunmen got hold of one of the more cohesive, aware
bits of the Elsewherenot a sentient bit of magic or
anything, but something distinct. Its pulling on the
Elsewhere from inside him, like a mage does, which lets
him do magic. But people arent meant to hold that kind
of thing inside of them. Hes going to implodeor maybe
explode; there are very few case studies. Or possibly just
rip a whole bunch of Elsewhere through to here, and end
up tearing up bits of the world entirely. Bad stuff. He
needs to get cleaned outpurifieddefused.
Do you know someone who fits the bill? said
Rupert.
You of all people should know that when I said I
know everyone, I wasnt kidding. Sez put the batons in a
standing bucket and picked up her weighted cap.
Its rude to assume, said Rupert.
Mm, she said. Holding the cap in one hand, Sez
picked out a handful of folded scraps of paper from
among the coins; these she tucked in a pocket. The coins
went into her purse. The cap went on her head, tamping
down the thick strands of purple-black hair. And Sallys
fine?
Sallys fine, said Rupert.
If the Academy gets to them first, began Jack.
Handsome, if you think I dont have the
resources to get one miko into a Bureau cell for a
night Sez shook her head, tapped her cap, and stepped
back into the weedy alley behind her. Im off, then.

38

Rupe, youre going to handle the dock infestation soon,

yeah? I can tip off Bart if we need to, but I think the
Knights have some other ruckus to deal with, and
And you hate going to the Knights anyway.
Rupert sighed. Yes, soon. Not tonight.
You do look a bit beat up, she said. Take care
of yourself, kiddo.
Its thirteen months, Sez. Youre thirteen months
older than me. That doesnt warrant a kiddo.
She waved cheerfully and dodged off into the
alleys gloom.
Wow, said Jack.
Thats as settled as we can make it, then, said
Rupert. He touched his side, winced, and said, Im going
to suggest the Academy medical ward as our next stop.
When they managed to get there, which was many
blocks, the tall Academy front gates, some open courtyard
space, a door, and a hallway later, Nurse delivered both
the promised lecture and some herbs and tonic for
Ruperts cracked rib and the others various scrapes and
bruises. Grey had a papercut, which he declined treatment
for.
Clement was already there, snoring away on a cot
in the back. His wound was rebound. Jack and Nurse
talked respectively earnestly and grumpily about wound
maintenance and the tendency of combat specs to need it.
Earlier, when they had reached the entrance to the
Academy campus and passed through the high gates, Jack
had looked up while the others pushed tiredly on. Carved
high into the old stone walls were a set of younger
engravings (a little less than a hundred years, perhaps,
rather than the walls centuries): THE ACADEMY FOR
THE EDUCATION OF POTENTIAL ADVENTURERS
AND LEGENDS.
Scratched into the wood of the two massive doors
beneath were decades of cheerful graffiti. Some were

39

burned off, faded, repainted, or shiningly new. Jacks

favorite was dragon bait.
Nurses admonishments and the groups sleepy
report to the Headsmaster took a few more hours. By the
time it was all over, everyones eyelids were drooping.
Grey had given up on the joint debriefing and lecture ten
minutes in and curled up on an empty cot, ignoring any
propriety perhaps owed the Headsmaster of their school.
Ruperts statement to his uncle was short and
modest. He mentioned his own involvement as little as
possible, didnt name Sally-Anne, and didnt reference
Sez or her search for a miko at all. Jack blamed his
success on luck. Both of them tried to look as harmless as
possible.
Jack woke up a grumpy Grey and the four of them
slunk back to the student dorms. As neither of them had
vacated the premises for summer, Jack and Grey shared
the same room on the second floor that they had been
assigned in their first year. Rupert was down the hall;
Laney was on the third floor, where she shared with a
bubbly, talkative sage major named Gloria.
They left Rupert at his single room, then tromped
down the hall, which was dim and narrow. This section of
campus had once been a servants quarters. Five doors
down there was a shut door with a nameplate hanging
from a hook. It read S. Grey, sage and J. Farris, guide.
Jack tapped it for luck and went in, where Grey
catapulted himself onto bed. Grey narrowly missed the
books and papers strewn around and on the lower bunk.
The younger boy wiggled his quilt out from under a few
haphazard tomes, wrapped himself in it, and said, You
get to turn out the lights.
Thats the moon, Grey.
Ugh.
A small window was placed over Jacks desk, in
the far wall. Its shutters were open, rustling the herbs Jack

40

had left drying there. A childs drawing of either Jack

himself or something on fire was pinned above Jacks
desk, rustling lightly in the breeze. Grey assumed it was
from one of Jacks many cousinsseventh son of a
seventh son meant a lot of extended family.
Greys own desk was tucked against the other
wall. It was not distinguishable as a desk under its ruckus
of printed books, quills, scrolls, and scattered papers.
Jack ran a hand through his hair, still hearing the
ring of a gunshot and the rough hyperventilation of the fry
cook in the back of the shop. Today had been supposed to
be a socially awkward snack with a few casual academic
acquaintances. Jack felt around for his sleep shirt, then
crawled up the ladder and into the upper bunk.
Just a bunch of Academy trainees, worried about
losing points to grammar mistakes, Jack said to himself.
Just, he said and he laughed until Grey kicked his bunk
and muttered some very large words. They probably
meant something along the lines of noisy, you giant oaf,
or shut up. Possibly all three.
Their window was open, letting in air that smelled
like river and smoke. Two floors above them, the
gargoyles settled down, grumbling, stone scraping on
water-worn stone. Darkness had fully fallen. The
tenement streets were still and silent. The lamps of
Nightmarket were bursting into flame, stalls set up and
ready, Sez preparing her batons beside a goldsmiths
booth. Dens of thieves, or scurrying scholars, or musestruck poets labored with fervent energy by candlelight.
The patchwork of noise and silence spread out for miles,
all the way to the edges of the city and the rolling, empty
hills of grass. In a lone olive tree, far from the city lights,
an owl hooted.
Tucked into the folds of his patched bedroll, Jack
Farris rolled over and went to sleep.

41

42

43

Chapter Three. The Beginnings.

All stories begin somewhere. Ruperts began in a
Rivertown alley, at fourteen. Someone thought he and the
purple-haired girl with him would be easy prey. They
werent.
Or maybe his story began at seven, the first time
his mother took him with her to one of her archaeological
digs. Rupert had always loved the way his mother blazed
with brazen surety, but she taught him quieter things as
well.
Where her brother lifted his chin and held his
nose, Ruperts mother smiled; she asked questions and
cared about the answers, whether they were from
millennia-old bones or six-year-old street urchins.
Ruperts uncle had taught him how to tie a perfect tie for
every occasion. His mother taught him hello, may I
help? in six languages.
In the Forest, where Jack was born, where he first
learned to walk, and run, and fall, it was said there were
two types of people: the people who built and the people
who broke, the creators and destroyers.
There were the ones who grew herbs in the
garden, who constructed houses in the shade of the trees,
who whittled walking sticks like the one Jack had tucked
in his closet, worn from miles and steep slopes. Then

44

there were the ones who burned the houses down, mad
from the forests darkness.
It was not good and evil, they said. It was life and
death.
Jack had always thought the trees that the houses
and walking sticks were made out of might have different
opinions on what was meant by builder and what was
meant by destroyer. But words were human things, not
tree things.
Sometimes Jack felt like a tree. He grew slow. He
grew tall.
Once upon a forest, there was a little redheaded
boy who tried to leap over creeks that were too wide for
him to leap.
Deep in a desert, a girl born to nomads and
herders buried her feet in sand. By the end of her days,
Laney Jones would wander farther than even her most
peregrine kin.
Once upon a mountain there was a girl who
learned to be a dragon, gold eyes turning to obsidian.
(Once upon an adjacent peak, another girl tied back her
soft gold curls and learned to turn ash into rich soil and
small white blossoms).
Once upon a time, a boy opened a book and
disappeared.

45

Chapter Four. Mr. Thorne.

The dining commons wide, high ceilings hovered
above the students like an upturned nose. Its tiled floors,
sullenly speckled with old stains, glared up from their
stony depths. Once, it had been a kings ballroom and it
had never quite forgiven the interlopers for making it into
a mess hall. Jack dropped his fifth spoonful of brown
sugar onto his oatmeal then headed for a half-empty table.
Rupert looked up as Jack sat down. He had the
blue-black band around his uniform arm that served as his
student heros badge. A similar one was secured much
more haphazardly around Jacksgreen for guide.
Um, said Rupert. Good morning. He looked at
Jack again, then out at the rest of the commons which did,
as hed thought, contain several other tables where Jack
could have sat. Did you want to work on the research
paper? With Clement in the infirmary, I think the tactics
section is all yours
Awesome, said Jack. Well, not awesome,
actuallythe part about Clem and everything. But. Yeah.
I didnt come over to talk about the paper. I wanted to talk
about something your friend mentioned, yesterday.
Hm, said Rupert. He took a bite of cottage
cheese. You really put that much sugar in your
oatmeal?

46

Jack leaned forward. Youre going to hunt

something, on the docks, he said. Is it today? Is it
Things? Gremlins? A poltergeist? Can I help?
I dont know what youre talking about, Rupert
said.
Your friend, with the jugglingSezshe said
something about the docks. And yesterday was clearly not
your first time under fire.
I really dont know what youre talking about.
Rupert stirred his cottage cheese under Jacks
unconvinced gaze. Im not a real hero. Im a stick in the
mud. Remember, said Rupert, I do paperwork.
Someone has to, said Laney. She slid into the
bench next to Jack.
Please tell me youre here to talk about the
paper, said Rupert.
Laney gave him a bright smile, still somehow
sharp around the edges. Sorry, Hammersfeld.
He sighed. Were you eavesdropping? said
Rupert.
Was there any need to? Laney said. Of course
Jack was going to come try his puppy dog eyes on you.
Hes been chomping at the bit since the first day of
Academy.
I dont know what you mean, said Rupert,
exhausted.
You fight monsters, she said. Clearly. And Im
tired of doing nothing but reading books and flinging
sparks. I love my magic, but Im a lot more than that. Im
tired of this box. Youre going to help me break out of it.
She fluttered a hand at the beaming redhead on their other
side. Jacks already softened you some. Laney unfolded
a napkin, tucking it over her lap. I want in, too.
Theres nothing to get in on, said Rupert.

47

Dock infestation? quoted Laney. And if you

dont handle it, these Knights will? Theyre the local
gang, yeah?
The Shore Knights. Amateur local protectors, for
a fee, said Rupert. To a degree, a gang also, yes.
Sounds like monsters to me; or at least more
interesting than another study session where all my fellow
mages do is posture, beat their chests, and try to nudge
other peoples spells awry.
If I was doing any extracurriculars, why do you
think Id talk about them to people I know as poorly as
the two of you?
Im trustworthy. Werewere study buddies.
Jack waved his spoon. You know I turn in my parts of
the assignment on time. Mostly.
Mine, in contrast, are always timely, said Laney.
Ah, said Rupert. Yes. Im swimming in
confidence.
No, dont trust Farris, said Grey. The bowl of
oatmeal he plopped down on the table made Jacks look
un-sugared. Doesnt let me stay up any later than
midnight, reading. Clearly evil. And anyway, youre all
pretty clearly insane. You, he told Rupert, already fight
monsters for fun, and they want to join in.
I dont fight monsters! said Rupert.
Uh huh, said Grey. And I dont know how to
spell preposterous.
Students, said the Headsmaster.
Jack looked up; the room quieted. Heads was at
the front of the room with a slight man at his shoulder.
Jack had never seen the second man at the Academy
before.
The unknown man looked stick-like and about as
likely to be a mighty force of anything as Grey might
(Grey was gnawing absently on an empty fork while he
paged through a book on the castle architecture of the old

48

mountain dragonlords). But Heads also kept a sideways

eye on the newcomer, like a man in a room with a hydra.
The Headsmaster went on, Our Academy will be
hosting a guest from the central offices of the Bureau.
This is Mr. Thorne. I expect you to give him your utmost
respect.
The doubtfulness in the room was tangible. It
seemed most of the students hadnt noticed that Mr.
Thorne had a quiet little smile that seemed unlikely on a
slight elderly man in a room echoing of boisterous young
warriors; or at least they didnt recognize that sometimes
men with smiles like that were just as dangerous as they
thought they were.
Well? said Jack, peeling an apple absently.
When Rupert didnt look up from his bowl, he reiterated.
I assume you know more about whatever that was than
we do.
Hes an inspector, murmured Rupert. He folded
peaches into his cottage cheese. The Bureau wants to
make sure the Academys meeting training requirements.
Uncles on edge, but it shouldnt bother any of us.
Except inspectors are also the ones who enforce
all the Bureau regulations? Theres that little subclause
63, isnt there? said Jack. If youre fighting Things in
town
Heads was explaining that Mr. Thorne would be
staying indeterminately and, if they were very lucky
students, might even be persuaded into a few guest
lectures. His specialty was, apparently, law.
Jack wondered if they meant the kind of law
where people ended up in back rooms with spikes,
confessing. He sunk lower in his seat.
Rupert raised his head and met Jacks eyes levelly
over his plate and its nutritionally-balanced portions. At
no point in our interactions have I confided in you that I

49

would do anything as illegal and irresponsible as

attempting to slay monsters without a badge.
Er, said Grey. Whats this subclause?
The other three all swiveled towards the sage.
Rupert blinked. Laney stared. Jack said, But this is
Bureau policy. This isnt like popular culture, or societal
norms or something. Its a rule; its written down. I mean,
is it even possible for you to not know things that are
written down?
Grey scowled at him. When was it written
down?
Rupert shrugged. I dunno, centuries?
Two hundred and three years ago, said Jack.
Huh, said Grey. Well, its a Bureau thing. I
dont pay attention to Bureau things. They all kept
looking at him.
Do you know where you are? Laney asked after
a moment.
Im not here for the Bureau, said Grey. Im not
going to join the Hero Corps. Im going to the Library, in
the capital.
Laney glanced at Rupert to confirm her
suspicions; he nodded and said, Thats run by the
Bureau, too.
I dont care though, said Grey. Thats the
biggest collection of books in the world. I dont care who
pays for the floor mopping as long as theyll hire me to
archive old scrolls and bother scholars. He rattled his
fork (which had luckily vacated his mouth when hed
begun asking questions) over the table, and said, So
whats subclause 63?
Jack turned cheerily to Rupert. He sighed.
Its the Anti-Vigilante Subclause of one of the
Bureau charters, said Rupert. It gives their inspectors
authority to arrest anyone without an Academy badge
who is engaging in League work.

50

Likeslaying Things on the Rivertown docks,

added Jack. He glanced at Rupert. Could be an issue.
Yes, said Rupert. Except I dont hunt
monsters.
Ah, said Grey. So, Jack, you want to get
dragged on illegal field trips I see.
You knew it was against the rules, said Jack.
Not the arrest-him kind of rules, just the
detention kind of rules. You can read in detention. Grey
huffed. So the Bureau gives the inspector authority; who
gives the Bureau authority?
The three glanced at each other. The Bureau,
said Rupert.
Huh, said Grey. I like architecture better, he
said, and went back to his book.
Jacks first class of the morning was Tracking,
with the rest of his fellow guide majors. Professor Merris
was his usual vitriolic self. He was an ex-guide himself
(most of the Academy staff were ex-League), and seemed
to think poorly of the new stock. Jack knew a fair bit of
tracking already, some of it from his father and uncles;
this did little to placate the professor. Merris took perhaps
even more offense at correct answers than ignorant
bumbling.
The guides Equine Studies class followed.
One of the other guides, a first year nicknamed
Leaf, leaned over the edge of a stall while Jack cleaned
and sorted tack on a stable bench. Leaf was several feet
shorter than Jack, with a sturdy build, broad shoulders,
and brown skin as warm as his smile. He was from the
shallow valleys in the interior of the Forest, the same
inner farm belt where Jacks mother had been born; Jack
found his accent nostalgic.
I made a friend, said Leaf.
Im very proud of you, said Jack gravely.

51

Leaf leaned on the wooden partition. His horse

whuffled about his lack of attention. He says hell teach
me how to fight, he said.
You were doing alright last week, said Jack.
Leafs black eye, from a visit by a couple combat
specs and a hero after the previous weeks class, was
fading to a mottled green-purple spackle.
Jack had had bruised ribs even before his study
groups accidental adventure yesterday.
Jack thought back to his and Leafs previous
weeks scuffleLeafs enthusiasm and stocky frame had
pretty much been the only things carrying the younger
boy through the fight. Well, actually, Jack said finally.
I suppose some help might be useful.
Jack and Leaf had met a few days into Leafs first
year at the Academy and Jacks second, when Jack had
interrupted two combat specs attempt to convince Leaf it
was in his best interest to do their homework for them. It
had become a tussle, as much of Jacks life had done.
Leaf, unlike many of the bullying victims Jack had met
briefly over the years, had stayed to help.
Six weeks ago, after that first fight, Jack had
helped Leaf up and said, Thats not the guide way, you
know. Sorry to be confusing you on your first week. He
had explained, to Leafs pleasantly puzzled look and
shiny new green armband, Hitting people. Were
supposed to dodge and run.
Leaf had snorted. Well Im a guide, hed said,
and so are you. Hitting people who need it is definitely
the guide way, according to this sample set.
Jack had grinned, stretching a forming bruise
along his cheekbone. I think I like you.
Fighting was not allowed on Academy campus,
something Jack found quite odd, especially considering
the blind eye the staff seemed to turn to ham-handed

52

combat specs stealing the pocket money of scrawny sages

far from home.
In the stable now, Leaf finished with the placid
bay he was grooming and offered over his shoulder, Red
says he could teach you, too.
Red? said Jack. One of the freshies get a new
nickname? I dont know that one.
Leaf shrugged, turning back to him, a brush in
hand. They were supposed to do the whole stables, but
Leaf was comfortable enough with equines he could take
time to lean on the stable wall and talk and still finish his
horses. Taciturn fellow, he offered. I got tired of
calling him hey you, and he never got around to telling
me his name, so, Red.
Redhead? said Jack, running through the
Academys rosters in his head. He imagined Rupert was
better at this for statistics, but Jack had a good head for
personalities.
Leaf shook his head and tapped his bicep.
Armband.
Hes a combat spec? said Jack. Leaf, you really
think thats clever? The last six or so youve met have
tried to smash your face in. The ones who arent regular
bullies are still all knotted up about their majors
reputation. Ive seen them staringyou know, you dont
have to call detention on them each and every time.
They deserve it, said Leaf. Every time, and
shrugged again.
Yeah, but you dont. And while the bullies are
still going to smash your face in, the rest of the specs
might not if it wasnt all so public.
Thats why Reds going to teach me to fight,
said Leaf.
You realize this could be a trick, said Jack. As
in, you go in to learn how not to get your face smashed in,
and this Red smashes your face in?

53

Nah, said Leaf. I dont think so. And, anyway,

a broken nose would only increase my rakish charm,
dont you think?
Somewhere, a harpy screamed classs end and
Leaf said, During free study tomorrow, in the hayloft.
You should come.
Jack thought about all the pranks that could be
pulled using a hayloft and suppressed a groan. They
finished up their equines and headed out into the sunlight.
When Leaf turned left by a statue in a mossy
fountaina rearing centaur, his equine half pockmarked
by the scars of a magical fire caused several years back by
the unfortunate combination of mages, finals stress, and
access to the more adventurous goods of Nightmarket
Jack turned right.
Leaf continued on to the World Cultures class of
Professor Henderson, with her head full of frizzy hair and
her stattaco accent from the urban centers that thrummed
along the edges of the river that cut through the southern
desert.
Jack had promised Henderson a dedication to
outside reading and an extensive paper on backwoods
Forest life in exchange for her keeping cheerfully mute
about his absences. He dropped by her office hours now
and then for pop quizzes and to chatter about growing up
amidst respectively the clannish, hectic, vibrant
populations of the water-adjacent and flat-roofed desert
cities and the clannish, fiercely self-sufficient Forest
territories.
Jack skirted the back corner of one of the larger
lecture halls of the Academy. The class inside the
building wasnt too largethe combined forces of the
combat specs and heroesbut Professor Rhones erred
towards the thunderous. More room for the words to
disperse spared the ears.

54

Stepping through the ankle-length grass that grew

under the eaves of the building, Jack found cracks in the
old stone mortar and pulled himself up.
High, narrow windows opened into the unlit, dusty
rafters of the lecture hall. Jack slipped in along them,
slouching along the beams.
The years showed. Sometime between the final
reign of King Francis the Large-Eared and the mostlylegal purchase of the old summer palace by the Academy,
the painted ceiling panels had fallen away and left the
rafters open to the room below. The Academy hadnt
bothered repairing. Tucked into the ceilings shadows,
Jack pressed bare brown toes into the wood grain.
Tactics is the art of keeping your head, said the
professor. Far below Jack, Rhones stood all of five feet
high, sweeping black robes behind him. Professor Smith
will teach you strategy, the big picture, how to plan the
movements of a hundred men. I will teach you what it is
when those plans fall apart. Assessing a situation on the
fly. Preparing your mind to make good decisions fast will
save your life. Rhones smirked. You can thank me
later.
Late morning light slanted through the high
windows, casting shadows under wobbly desks, lighting
the combat specs red armbands and the heroes blackand-blue. The light didnt illuminate the place high in the
rafters where Jack was twiddling his thumbs as Professor
Rhones ran through analyses of old battle records that
ranged from cynical to clinical. A napping first year woke
with a gasping start as Rhones slammed a text down on
the table to illustrate the falling gate of a besieged castle.
Jack couldnt quite hold back a snicker.
Square in the center of the first row, Rupert
Willington Jons Hammersfeld the Seventh flicked his
eyes upward at a patch of darkness in the high ceiling

55

that, if you squinted hard enough, turned into a redheaded

young man smothering a laugh with one hand.
The walls were lined with sculpted ceramics and
mosaic. They were chipped and old, but clearly meant to
recall an extravagant forest, and clearly made by someone
who had never lived in one. Nonetheless, Jack appreciated
the handholds their curled leaves and branches allowed.
(The mosaic birds eyes, however, were far more creepy
than fanciful). When Rhones began to bark out
homework, Jack crawled his way along the rafter, and
then used a sculpted leaf or two for leverage in order to
swing out the open upper window.
The level of chaos rose slightly over the entirety
of campus as the whole student body poured out of
classrooms for the allotted hour of lunch. The dining
commons provided a standard farecheese, overly
stewed vegetables that had perhaps once been green, thick
brown bread. Some students dispersed across the
Academy grounds, foraging their own stores of snacks
and gifts from home, while others made a quick dash to
town.
Jack jogged comfortably over to the main
administration headquarters of the Academy, where
Heads and many of the professors had their offices. He
padded down the scuffed wooden corridor, tugging on a
pair of boots hed stuffed in his book bag. He flailed in
backward through the bay doors of the infirmary.
Shush, said Nurse. I just got your broken
combat spec to sleep and I dont want to hear him
whining if he wakes up. She didnt even look up at his
entrance, attacking the ominous stacks of paperwork in
front of her with a bloody-minded endurance that had
motivated many fools to try stitching up their own
practice sword cuts.

56

Angel of compassion, Jack whispered back

cheerily, heading past her to the darkened potions room
behind her desk.
Disrespectful imp, Nurse said. Worse than my
grandchildren.
Yes, but look, he said. I wore my boots just for
you.
Youre taking them off the minute you get out of
here, though, said Nurse. It doesnt count. Youre going
to get a sword through those feet of yours, one day, Farris,
and then youll learn.
What makes you think I havent already?
Because I would have had to stitch you up.
Jack settled down in the dim, cool comfort of the
small room. Hed dragged a stool in here a few weeks
after the first time Nurse demanded that the pretty boy
amateur apothecary show her exactly what he was doing
with the herbs he kept requesting from her stores. Jack
still wasnt sure if she had thought he was poisoning his
classmates or selling them performance enhancers. My
grandma taught me herblore hadnt really cut itJack
had a feeling Nurse had been imagining some wrinkly
backwoods witch, luring children to their doom.
But the steady growth of the infirmarys salves
and healing tea stores had reassured her. Jack had just
wanted something to do with his hands that wasnt
compass work hed already learned at his daddys knee.
Hed felt just comfortable enough after a few
weeks of their quiet arrangement to drag in a stool to
accommodate his longer legs. Jack hadnt expected the
small coin purse and the receipt on Academy letterhead
that Nurse had pressed into his hands at the end of the
first semester. From the gruff snap and roll of her eyes,
she hadnt expected gratitude for payment for a job well
done.

57

Jack flicked off the gas line safety catch and lit up
a small burner. A copper pot with a splash of fairflower
extract was hung over it by long, casual fingers. Jack went
puttering around the sorted drawers and the hanging dried
plants, humming softly as he picked out what he needed,
his grandmothers scratchy voice murmuring remembered
instructions inside his head.
As Jack was tossing some of the last ingredients
in, there was a sniff over his right shoulder. Ember
bloom, really? Nurse made a disapproving noise.
Theres some yue in there to help stabilize it.
Jack eyed the bubbling mixture, then went back to dicing
up a tiny orange mushroom. There was a scrape of wood
on tile as Nurse dragged a rickety chair over to him.
I know youre a big brave boy and all, Jackie lad,
but you want to talk about yesterday?
Not much to say. Jack shrugged. Three guys
well, four, in all, I guessheld up a fish shop downriver.
We got caught up in it.
Sallys?
You know it?
Nurse shrugged. Its a landmark. Little SallyAnnes taken over now, but her familys held that shop in
one form or another for years. They had guns? she asked,
Clems snoring rising and falling in the background.
Jack nodded. And a mageof a kind.
And how was your first taste of combat under
fire? Nurse said.
Jacks hands stilled over the poultice he was
stirring. First? he said. Hey, I tussle with bullies once a
week at least.
Not the same, Nurse said. They arent willing
to kill anybody. Its cruel, what they dobut at its core
its only playfighting. They want to intimidate, not injure.
Certainly not murder.

58

Well, even killers, at their core, are just really big

bullies, said Jack. He dropped the mushroom in. With a
few stirs, the whole mixture let off a sickly-sweet smell.
Did you sleep alright?
Oh, yeah. Jack shrugged, adding cheerily, You
know me, like an overgrown baby.
People dont realize how poorly babies sleep.
Six uncles means a lot of cousins, said Jack. I
know about babies.
Hm.
Jack stirred the pot a few more times, then tapped
the spoon on the side of it to knock any clinging greyish
burn poultice off of it.
A persons life teaches them how to react, said
Nurse. Whether to treat a sharp sound like the beginning
of a rain of bullets, or just someone breaking a bowl
across the street.
I took Trauma last semester, Nurse, said Jack.
Remember, guides are supposed to keep everyones
heads and hearts screwed on straight.
As opposed to bashing them in? Nurse got out a
few clean jars. I expected you to be jumpier than you are
today, actually.
He grinned up at her, taking the jars. Ah, but Im
in a medics care, amid a den of heroes. What could be
safer? Jack reached for a ladle, adding, Thesell have to
cure for a few days before theyre ready.
Nurse snorted. Lad, I know a fair few places
safer than among this pack of inbred idiots.
Jack was searching his pockets for a stray roll
from breakfast when he rejoined the guides on the
practice courts. It was his last class of the day. They spent
it on the climbing wall and then in the overgrown
Academy grounds, testing some orienteering skills. Given
sparse directions and compasses, they broke up into teams
and gathered tokens the instructor had hidden.

59

Some of the trees on the grounds were older than

the Academy, harkening back to when there were still
kings in the flatlands, but a lot of the grounds were just
scrubs and overgrown hedges. You could lose sight of the
main building, but could never really escape the noise of
the town surrounding the walls. You could get lost, but
only if you didnt pay attention, or ended up in the hedge
maze (Jack was pretty sure it was enchanted; he didnt get
lost easy and hed once spent three hours hopelessly
wandering those leafy corridors before he found a way
out).
After class, Jack left Leaf explaining compass
skills to a few of Leafs fellow first years and headed
toward the main building at a half jog. Weeds, a shy
townie and a yearmate of Jacks, and Heather, the taciturn
and sole female guide, were heading toward the library to
go over the reading for Edible Plants, which met the next
day. Jack passed them in the courtyard, thought a quick
reminder to himself about the Edibles midterm that week,
and kept going.
The heroes were just getting out of
Swashbuckling, which as far as Jack could tell only
differed from swordfighting in Attitude.
Ruperts whole visage, from his regulation-perfect
polished buttons to the drab efficiency of the sword hed
chosen from the school supplies, did convey a kind of
Attitude as he exited the main gymnasiumbut decidedly
not the kind that made Swashbuckling possible. The hero
looked tired. He saw Jack. He sighed.
You studying first, or heading straight to the
docks? Jack said, turning to walk with him with a skip in
his already lengthy step.
Youre incorrigible, said Rupert mildly. Youre
impossible. Have I not made it clear you dont need to be
here?

60

The expression on Jacks face wasnt one Rupert

had seen before. Rupert had been aware of the bouncy
puppy dog of a guide for some time: the way Jack messily
and consistently got into fights; his struggling grades in
Equine studies, and perfect ones in classes like Foraging
and Survival. Rupert knew that Jack had studied through
every break since enrollment, rather than going home. He
knew about the shifts he pulled in Nurses infirmary to
help cover tuition. Rupert paid enough attention to
everyone who walked over the Academys doorstep to
know that, even bruised, Jack Farris smiled.
Now, Jack looked down at him, weighing words
as though he possessed something like tact or that he
would care to use it on a hero he considered a stuffy
paper-pusher. I should have been paying attention
earlier, but I wasnt. You dont move like a desk jockey,
Rupert. You knew your way around that town. You held
your head in a firefight and the first thing you did was
look out for other people. Im not quite sure what you do
in town, out of your uncles sight, said Jack, but its
something dangerous, and Im guessing its something
worthwhile. People shouldnt have to fight alone.
The other majors were getting out of their classes
too. The afternoon sun was slanting across the wide,
cluttered spaces of the Academy. Mages clustered and
worried loudly about some new and unintuitive spell
diagramming they were assigned for the nights
homework. One of the mages, a young woman, had
broken away from the group and headed towards Jack and
Rupert.
Its not fair to the rest of us, added Laney,
coming up on Ruperts other side. Her bag of textbooks
was slung over one shoulder. Rupert had a duffel over his
shoulder that looked too bulky to just be carrying his
Swashbuckling equipment (and really, thought Jack, what

61

do you need for that class other than a sword and some
sass?).
A tiny figure surged in on the opposite side to
shove a shoulder into Jacks ribs (his elbow couldnt
reach high enough). Grey began in a rush, Weatherby
made three factual errors today, but Professor Baritznkosh
introduced this fascinating Grey glanced across Jack
towards the other two. What? Did we have a study
meeting? Hi.
Rupert looked from Jacks cheery grin to Laneys
smaller one with shadows of threats tucked into her
dimples. Of a kind, he said.
Do I have to come? said Grey. Ugh. He
looked at Jack, wrinkled his nose, and said, Oh. Youre
all going to be idiots together, I see. Jacks too happy for
this to actually be a study meeting, Grey explained.
Hes grinning too hard. Obviously hes going to come
drip blood all over the dorm room carpet tonight.
Oh, dont be so paranoid, said Jack.
Paranoid? Says the fellow with an emergency
travel pack hidden behind his desk, said Grey.
Jack blinked. Hey, Im used to last minute
hunting trips. Thats not weird where Im from.
Have fun at your docks, getting eaten by your
monsters, said Grey. Dont bang the door when you get
home, I have a test tomorrow. I care about my studies.
Oh, wait He raced around the other side of the group,
still hugging three books to his chest. That reminds me
Jones, hey, can I ask you a question?
Laney turned to look at him, level and severe.
Oh?
Cold look? Grey said. I havent even done
anything yet.
Yet, called Jack.
Hm, she said.

62

You sure talk easily enough in study meetings,

and when you think someones spelled something
wrong, said Grey, bouncing along, taking two steps for
every one of the rest of theirs. Why so quiet now?
Laney moved her head slow and deliberate,
tracking him. Is that the question?
No, said Grey. Ah. There, you were invading
other peoples space, but here Im invading yours. Who
taught you that the best defense is to shut up?
You obviously dont think so, she said.
Grey grinned at her. Not going to give anyone the
power to keep me quiet.
Laney twisted her nose, which was somewhat like
a smile. Alright, kid, what do you want then?
Youve got a lot of bracelets, Grey said.
Thats true, Laney said, touching the knotted
string on her wrists.
Why, if youre a mage? You only hear about
knotted spells like this being sold, like, on the edge of
back roads by hedgewitches. I mean, why not just rip a
little power out of the air and fling it when you want it?
He waved a hand at her. This is weird.
Grey, said Jack. Be nice.
Weird is interesting, said Grey. That is being
nice.
She shrugged. Makes it a bit easier to toss, say, a
destruction spell in some charging villains face when
youve got it ready-made and tied to your wrist, said
Laney. I like to be prepared.
Um, destruction spells? said Grey. Why isnt it
destructing your wrist, then? He peered at it, apparently
torn between an investigative spirit and the desire of not
having his face blown off by an awry spell. Oh, he said.
Grey got closer, bending over a little to stare at it,
hopping along. Youve got Henzworth cyclical knotting
patterns and is that a gorgons braid knot there?

63

Its a knot, Laney said. Jack, watching the back

and forth, stifled laughter. Rupert was smiling at his feet
and pretending not to.
Grey squinted a little harder, then sighed and
straightened, tumbling after the trio. Yeah, he said. I
know. But that looks like a gorgons braid.
I learned some knot skills from my uncle. He was
the family magician, said Laney.
I didnt think the gorgons braid was a desert
knotor this! he said, circling her and peering at her
ankles. Youve got a Tyr spiral well weave in one of
thesethats quite the power storage, you know.
Laney twitched her pants hem to further cover the
anklets showing below it. You really have no concept of
personal space, do you? At least not other peoples. Jack
shrugged her a cheerful apology over Ruperts head. The
group had had to pause in their stride; Grey was getting in
Laneys way.
Dont see much point of it, really, Grey said. Is
there an equivalent knotting complexity in the desert, as
there was with the old mountain city-states? I mean, its
not the custom now, but thats where these designs
originated. I didnt think the
First, said Laney, stepping towards Grey until
he was forced to straighten and step back to avoid her
colliding with him. Desert magic is just as complex as
your mountain voodoo, pipsqueak. Dont presume.
Second, you are not the only one who can read a book.
Yes, this is a gorgons braid, and yes thats a spiral well.
No theyre not native desert magics. I can tie them
anyway. Third, she said, her nose an inch from his and
her face a whole lot more fierce than his. If you keep
ignoring my personal space, I will ignore yours.
He gulped. Thats not a spiral well, Grey said
gamely. Not exactly. I think you copied it out wrong,
except were not all blown to pieces, so.

64

Count yourself blessed, said Laney primly.

Keep on my good side and you will continue not being
blown to pieces, sound good?
He shrugged.
And I didnt copy it wrong, Laney said. I
improved it.
Done harassing our sage, Jones? said Jack. He
grinned at her when she rolled her eyes at him.
Oh, ho, dont get the wrong idea, said Grey.
Im going back to my room and reading about urban
myth culture along the coast. Im not the sage of your
crazy little League. He waved his hands with a flourish
at the high gates of the Academy. Your exit, Grey said,
and then wiggled his fingers toward the gargoyle-topped
dorms and the library beyond them, adding, Mine.
With a flick of the wrist and a roll of the eyes,
Grey left them. The three remaining Academy students
headed under the gates towards Rivertown.
Rupert moved through the towns crowds like
hed been raised to it. Jack realized, with the bulk of the
Academy diminishing behind them, that perhaps he rather
had.
Wobbly quays and docks jutted out all along the
riverfront, from backyards and shops. Along the more
commercial parts of the river wide loading docks stood in
long solid rows. Warehouses huddled on shore, wreathed
in brick and mold.
There are always a few abandoned, said Rupert.
Business fluctuates. He turned down a path between
two boarded-up brick buildings. Some have just turned
their business unofficial, of course. He dropped his
equipment duffel on the ground, straightening. But Sez
says this one is actually empty. And dock workers have
been disappearing from its neighbors.
So only abandoned by people, then, said Jack.
What is it? Things in the Darkness?

65

Rupert nodded. Two, she thinks. Not quite

solidified, but dangerous enough. Rupert rubbed his
forehead, looking at themthe tall but narrow-shouldered
guide bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, and the
mage with her hair braided neatly around her skull, her
sorted spells ordered along her wrists. Rupert unzipped
his duffel. I thought you might be hard to get rid of,
said Rupert, and handed Jack a sword, hilt first.
The only things that can touch them are
magicked weapons, said Rupert. He tapped his own hilt
and said, Miss Jones, I have some bladed weapons if
youd like, but I figured you rather
Throw magic at them instead? Close, she said.
But I think Id prefer bullets. Out of her book bag
Laney pulled three gunsthe one Watcher had dropped
on the fish shop floor, and a matched set of gleaming
pistols tucked in twin thigh holsters. She went about
strapping on the holsters while Rupert protested politely
that to fight monsters bred of magic, one really needed to
have weapons with spells built into their metal.
I magic my own pistols, and bullets, even when
Im just shooting targets, Laney said. They dont make
them rightall these little imperfections. The bullets
bounce around. The shots come out spinning at odd
angles. Clumsy. She flicked her eyes up in vague
disdain. My aim is good; my guns are better.
Ive never heard of guns being used against
Things, said Jack. Ogres, kelpies, hags, yes. But
Things? Miss Jones, weve been using bladed weapons
for hundreds of years.
Welcome to the future. And its Laney, or Jones,
not Miss anything. She eyed them both steadily.
Understood, said Jack.
Thingsre shapeshifters, said Rupert. So their
range is variable. They lurk as part of shadows and they
like ambushes. Sometimes you can catch a glint of gold

66

their eyes flash and their cores are a gold spark. Both
Laney and Jack were also handed leather arm and wrist
guards to go over their Academy jackets, as well as stiff
but light leather and metal helms (Laneys fit over her
braided coronet).
You brought gear for Grey, too? said Jack,
peering into Ruperts voluminous bag.
Rupert shrugged. The back of his neck flushed
quietly. His chances of deciding to come were much
slimmer than either of yours, but non-negligible. He
zipped the bag up and settled it behind himself, pulling on
his own arm-guards. I like to be prepared.
Jack nodded. Ill take the left; Rupert, right?
Laney, you want to be our eyes in the back?
Ready? said Rupert. He unlocked the chain
around the warehouse door with a key that he explained
with a shrug and a Sez.
It was dim inside, the sounds of the town muffled.
Jack adjusted his grip on the sword, feeling that odd
shiver that meant a magicked blade. Laney flicked the
safeties off her pistols. Afternoon light muddled through
grimy high windows, leaving deep wide shadows amid
the general dusty gloom.
So you come here often? Jack quipped, moving
along on Ruperts left. Laney came up behind them.
One gets tired of paperwork occasionally,
Rupert said. Something gold flashed in a shadowed aisle.
Writing tentacles of black mist surged for their throats.
It wasnt until theyd taken down the first Thing
Ruperts stab, three slashes from Jack, a glinting bullet
into the shadowy center of its massit wasnt until the
second that Rupert stopped guarding his left flank quite as
fervently as his right.
Rupert still wasnt moving like a man who had an
ally (two) to watch his back, butJack cut down the

67

Thing, then ducked under the attack of an apparent third

monsterbut it was something like progress.
The third Thing favored a scorpions sting and a
rapidly changing number of clawed arms. Laney got two
bullets in the bulbous approximation of its head, and then
they closed into a circle, looking out at the suddenly still
darkness.
They breathed harshly, nerves quivering. Jacks
chest rose and fell, shaking, like a forgotten lullaby.
After a plodding but anxious search of the
premises, they stepped into fresh air and the fading dusk.
Ive never gone after monsters before, said Laney as
they walked back to the Academy. Rupert was still
favoring the side with his cracked rib, from the fish shop
the day before. But Id bully my uncles into taking me
on hunting trips.
I have faith in your ability to bully anyone into
anything, said Rupert and for the first time since theyd
met her the young woman laughed, the sound chiming off
the slate roofs of Rivertown.
That swords a bit too heavy for the way you
fight, Rupert said to Jack. I can get you a lighter one,
next time. He froze. With stiff movements, Rupert
brushed off his trousers. If you, that is, if you came
again. If you wanted. I dont want to assume, of course.
Of course, Laney repeated. You wouldnt want
to assume. Laughter was still bright in her voice.
Its only pest control, Rupert was muttering. I
can manage.
Cant get rid of us now, Hammersfeld, said
Jack.
Rupert looked at the skip in Jacks step, the light
in Laneys eyes that came of feeling useful, useful for
once in her life. He sighed but there might have been a
smile hidden in the twitch of his long nose. I was afraid
of that.

68

When they got back, lights peeked from under the

door cracks of the other dorm rooms. Laughter poured out
from one as two sages talked archaic language
conjugations. A quiet, heated argument reverberated
through the opposite wall between a first year combat
spec named Bradley and his hometown girlfriend, who
had come to visit for the week. The combat specs
roommate, Weeds, sat outside the door, knees drawn up,
and waved tiredly at Jack as he passed.
In the dim hallway light, Jacks forming bruises
were not obvious. His forearm, which had been scraped
up rather badly by the squeeze of a scaly tentacle, was
hidden under the jacket folded over his arm. He tried to
walk normally, despite a twinge in one thigh. If worse
came to worst, Jack supposed that this was hardly the first
time his dormmates had seen him come home injured.
Youre limping, said Grey when the door swung
shut behind him. The boy was cross-legged at the foot of
his bed, a star chart laid out in front of him while he inked
in the names of constellations.
What sky is that?
Keep going far enough in this world, and you get
to see new stars, said Grey. This is what the night sky
looks like in the Ukal Mountains, which are east and
south past your Forest a very long ways.
Jack hummed, sitting down at his desk chair and
uncovering his arm with a quiet hiss. Clear liquid from
one bottle on his desk was used to clean it; a second held
a white salve he spread over the wound. The Thing had
torn skin as it twisted and grasped, growing barbs and
sharp edges on its scales. When Jack reached for a roll of
cotton bandages, Grey let loose a grumble and slid off his
bed.
Dont be stupid, you cant bind your arm onehanded. Give me that. Grey snipped off a long stretch of
bandage. Hed gotten much better at this since becoming

69

Jacks roommate, or rather since becoming his friend (the

timelines werent identical). Youre a barefoot barbarian
with no sense of self-preservation, you know that, yeah?
Grey wrapped up Jacks arm, mixing insult with
astronomical anecdotes all the while. When the white
bandage was secure, if a little lopsided, Grey went back to
his star charts, and continued flinging commentary and
critique at Jack as he applied bruise balm to his ribs, face,
and right shoulder. You just dont want to get a new
roommate if I get myself killed, said Jack.
It would be a hassle, said Grey. He scratched his
quill along the chart, naming unfamiliar skies. So did
you get your monster?
Three, said Jack.
Why are youthats not a thing to grin about,
you hellion. The existence of big scary things does not
signify the correct response to be going running after
them. Grey rolled his eyes as Jack climbed up into the
upper bunk. The frame swayed lightly; in a different
world, perhaps, they had figured out that the considerably
heavier roommate perhaps should have gotten the lower
bunk.
But you do, dont you? Grey called through the
bed frame. Waving your sword and screaming FOR
HONOR AND GLORY AND PANCAKES AND THE
LIVES OF THE INNOCENT. Ugh. Go to sleep.
Grey?
Yes?
Im in bed, laying down, eyes closed. Assess the
situation. It was still only early evening, but it had been a
long few days, and Jack had to deal with horses in the
morning.
Oh. Grey looked down at the star map Well,
Ive got to finish this for tomorrow, so be an ostrich,
okay?
What?

70

Bury your head in the covers.

Jack was almost asleep when two succinct
apologetic knocks sounded at the door. He rolled over,
ostrich-ing himself further, as he heard Grey get up in a
rustle of paper and grumbles and open the door. He rolled
the other direction, out of them, when he heard Rupert
say, Is Jack in?
Yeah, Rupe, whats up? Jack scrubbed at his
face and rolled carelessly off the edge of the bunkhe
landed with a thump of bare feet.
I hate it when you do that, you giant overactive
squirrel, said Grey, climbing back in among his papers.
Ruperts toes were lined up precisely with the
door jams edge. Uncle says Mr. Thorne wants to see
you.
Thorne, said Jack, slowly. The Academy
inspector? He glanced toward the open window, three
stories up, as though considering the potential for injury if
he jumped out of it. Um. Do you know why?
Rupert shook his head. Sorry. Hes got a
temporary office in headquarters. The office with the grey
door across from the infirmary, do you know where that
is?
Yeah, said Jack. Now?
Uncles very eager to keep Mr. Thorne happy,
said Rupert. If you leave him waiting, I might expect
Uncle to slip and accidentally assign you extra
homework. With an apologetic grimace, he added, Hes
a bit petty that way.
Homework, yeah, said Jack, pushing a hand
through his short red hair. On the lower bunk, Grey
crinkled through scattered papers, humming to himself.
But he asked for me? By name? Okay, Rupert, thanks.
Ill go now.
See you in class tomorrow? said Rupert.

71

Jack grabbed a weathered brown knapsack from

the hollow beneath his desk, hefting it over a shoulder
with a familiar creak of leather. Sure, he said. Yeah,
yeah, of course.
Jack considered leaving the pack in the hallway
outside Mr. Thornes office, but his hackles were up, his
paranoia was up, the hairs on the back of his neck were
up. He wasnt leaving it where it might be stolen. Jack
kept it with him and put it down next to him when Mr.
Thorne offered him a chair.
Student guide, Jack Farris, yes? From the
Forest, Mr. Thorne continued, reading down an open file
in front of him. His thin white eyebrows lifted. Deep in
the Forest, I see.
Yes, sir, said Jack. He sat still in the chair,
hands on his bent knees.
Thorne looked up with an owlish blink that was
supposed to look grandfatherly and harmless, but mostly
just clashed with the sharp lines of his gold-wire glasses.
Oh, dont look so tense, son. Youre not in any trouble.
Im not? said Jack.
I could see where you might not be quick to
believe me, said Thorne. According to your files,
trouble finds you fairly often, Mr. Farris.
Im just lucky that way. If Im not in trouble,
said Jack, then what was it you needed me for, sir?
Thorne eyed the bag at Jacks feet. You came
prepared, he said, like a question.
Books, said Jack. Have to do a little studying
after.
Mr. Thornes spine was as straight as an iron
poker in the rather uncomfortable wooden chair on the
other side of the deskJack knew it was uncomfortable
because he was sitting in its twin, icy uncertainty dripping
down his own spine. This was not how hed expected this
conversation to go. He still wasnt sure where it was

72

going, but a Bureau man was steering so Jack had very

little optimism in the chosen course.
Mr. Farris, I am here as an official Academy
inspector, to approve and standardize the methods of this
school, but that is not my only job.
Inspectors make sure all Bureau regulations are
followed, as well, said Jack.
That, too, said Thorne, flapping a hand. But
what I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Farris, the
systemthe Hero Corps and their Leaguesthey have
their purposes. But there are always those who do not
thrive within the system. My job, among others, is to find
those individuals who do not fit and remove them.
The hair on the back of Jacks neck, which had
been confusedly falling from high alert, sprang back to a
full code red. Youll find me rather difficult to remove,
said Jack softly.
Oh, no. No! Not like that, my boy. I am a
recruiter, of kinds.
I dont understand, said Jack. He was a little
concerned by the way the eyes behind the gold-wire rims
had lit up at his previous statement, but not with anger,
fear, or confusion. It had looked, rather, like glee.
There was a ruckus, yesterday, at a fish shop,
said Mr. Thorne. Academy students were involved, so I
read your reports. I also spoke with some of the witnesses.
You are far too modest, Mr. Farris.
My mother raised me polite.
You were clever, quick to act, and chose to act
for the greater good at the risk of yourself and others. It
was a very good show. Thorne paused. The civilian
who was shot. Did you know he died from
complications?
No, said Jack, the bottom of his stomach
dropping down past his feet, past the floor, to the
basement, and leaving a creeping cold chill in its place. I

73

didnt. He remembered the feel of warm blood between

his fingers, his hands pressed over the belly wound. There
had been a friend hyperventilating the bricklayers name,
but Jackd forgotten what it was.
Your choices in that shop saved lives, said Mr.
Thorne. You should be very proud of yourself. He
steepled his fingers and leaned forward. As I said earlier,
Mr. Farris, I am a recruiter. When I find someone who
does not work well within the rather rigid pattern of
League life, my job is to provide alternatives.
Jack wiped his hands on his pants, still half in the
trampled warmth of the fish shop, leaving a dying man to
a healer and not looking back. He pulled himself back to
the conversation and the precise little man sitting in front
of him. Sir?
Mr. Thorne smiled. It was meant to be kindly.
You dont fit here, do you, son? Thornes fingers
brushed over the open files, down lists of demerits,
detentions, medical records. You areunhappy here.
And League life would stifle you. But there are other
arms of the Bureau, Mr. Farris. Quieter arms, less public.
And there, I think, a young man like you could find his
place.
What do you mean, quieter? (Jack didnt ask the
scarier question, which was what do you mean, like
me?).
Just get through this year, said Thorne. Get
your badge. Well talk again, Im sure. Well be keeping
an eye on you, Mr. Farris.

74

75

Chapter Five. Obituaries I.

The bricklayers name was Tam Sansu. Sansus
father had been a mason, but as a child hed never had a
head for the more painstaking stonework.
Tam Sansu was forty-two and had ordered a fried
trout with an extra helping of fries. The girl who had been
running the till would think to herself, when she heard
that the nice man had died, that she would always
remember her last sight of himthat he had blushed
when shed smiled at him. A nice homage, she thought.
Five years, nine months, and twenty-two days after
Sansus death, the thought would completely fade from
her mind.
His son, Timmy, was fifteen when his father died.
He would be sixteen during the First Battle of Driftwood
Island and would help with the evacuation along the
riverfront. When Timmy was eighteen, he would join the
fledging ranks of the Lower Rivertown police force. At
fifty, he would retire, a decorated lieutenant.
Tam Sansus wife never remarried. She would die
at the age of seventy-three, with three grandchildren, two
tabby cats, and a potted plant she affectionately called
Lou.

76

77

Chapter Six. Study Buddies.

Ruperts watching us, said Laney next to Jack in
line for breakfast the next morning. She smiled into the
scrambled eggs. Hes trying to figure out if were
coming to sit with him again, even though weve already
got our joy ride out of him, and pretending he doesnt care
if we dont.
Loading up on potatoes, Jack looked around the
room to spot the heroic feats major. Rupert sat alone. Jack
realized belatedly he rarely saw anyone with their study
group leader outside of classes. He wondered if it was
caused by Ruperts disinclination to put up with the petty,
competitive antics of the hero majors, or if it was the hero
majors lack of realization of how important it was to
have a person around who remembered to bring swords
and helms to battle.
Its somewhere between endearing and
insulting, said Laney musingly. Meet you there,
Farris?
The rest of these potatoes are calling, Jack
admitted. Ill be a moment.
She went to situate herself beside Rupert, laying
out orange juice and eggs in front of her. That reports
due tomorrow, Laney said. Political-context analysis is
done, and the introduction.

78

Jacks taking the tactics section, said Rupert.

There was a bit of relief in his voice at the easy
conversation start.
We still need to
Three books thumped down in front of Laney, as
well as Greys bony behind on the bench across from her.
Beside him, Jack slid ruefully into his seat with a plate of
ketchup-drenched potatoes. The books, rather battered,
had names like The Philosophy of Multi-World Theory
and An Imaginary Separation: A Study of the Elsewhere.
Jack, said Laney, a grave threat in her voice,
have you been sharing my confidences? Last night,
giddy on adventure, she had brought up her struggles in
the latest magework lessons on Communications and
Transport. She had also clammed up immediately after, as
though acknowledging imperfections in schoolwork was a
kind of sin.
I might have mentioned some things
Jack says youre having trouble with transport,
said Grey promptly. Have you read these?
Laney glanced at them. These are all basic
Elsewhere theory. I've been reading the transport and
comm manuals mostly. I dont need your help, pipsqueak.
Ill figure it out.
But youve got to start with basic theory! said
Grey, ignoring the second half of her words. Thats
thats what everything built on! Transport especially is so
conceptual. He slid down the bench to stay in her line of
sight, shoving Jack farther along, when she turned to the
redhead.
Youve got physical bindings down pat, Grey
said, waving a hand at her bracelets. Youve clearly got a
great deal of technical skill, but, he chewed a lip,
swiping his hands over the worn book covers. I bet the
Elsewheres hard for you to reach, he said. Is that why
you do the knot stores? And youre excessively efficient,

79

too. Ive seen you do spellwork in exams sometimes. No

one is that efficient if theyve got massive power to draw
on
Laney pushed the book back at him, stood up, and
crossed the hall to an empty table.
Those were compliments, said Grey.
Dont pout. You just called someone whos very
into being good at things not good at what shes good at,
said Jack. That response shouldnt have been shocking.
That makes no sense.
Think hard. I bet you can parse it if you try, said
Jack.
Hey, you told me about her problems, said Grey
cheerfully. I bet shes mad at you, too!
Thanks, said Jack. Really cheers me up.
I was trying to help, muttered Grey into his
juice. Jack patted him on the shoulder then went back to
the potatoes. Grey eyed the book propped open next to
Jack, a sight more commonly found beside Greys table
setting. Edibles test?
After we do the horses this morning, yeah, said
Jack. And its coastal climates, not the Forest, so I cant
just coast on my grandmothers plant lore. He ran a
finger over a sketch of a spindly bush with bright berries.
Awesome, this ones poisonous.
The Edibles midterm went about as well as could
be expected. Weeds hyperventilated quietly in the corner.
Leaf was jumpy and distracted during Equines, excited
about the fighting lesson with his mysterious combat spec
friend Red that afternoon. Jack spent the majority of their
post-breakfast hour in the stables flinging botany
questions at Leaf over currycombs and tack. Heather
broke her customary silence to correct him on the
distinguishing features of different dune thistles and their
root systems.

80

Jack scribbled and sketched for the hour of the

midterm and put down his pen feeling confident in his
scores. Coastal ecology overlapped enough with the
eastern Forest and the northern mountains that Jack found
portions of the test nostalgically familiar. It put him in an
odd mood as he left the room.
Four generations lived in the Farris Rambly
House, deep in the Forest shadows, and sometimes it felt
like the noise and chaos was built into the very wood of
the walls. Jack wondered if that permeating noise was
what made memories of quiet resonate so loudly in his
headlong treks skirting the farthest edges of their
family property as a child, pockets stuffed full of enough
jerky to take him all the way out of the Forest, if he dared,
if he ever dared enoughhis grandmothers hands, cool
and weathered, running his small fingers over the bristly
stem of a tomato, crushing mint leaves in his palm so he
could carry the garden with him all day long and fall
asleep with his hands curled over his noseand the
smoky voice of a girl with soft gold curls, in a clearing in
the middle of nowhere, teaching him how to dig up mooli
root.
Question number eight had asked about that pale,
bland rootthey called it daikon down here in the
flatlands. Jack had almost scrawled down a recipe after
his sketch of the plants identifying leaves, but hed
caught himself, and shook himself, and moved on to
question number nine.
Jack tugged his jacket straighter, feeling the
movement pull on the healing scab on his left forearm. It
was his second year at the Academy. He was nearly done.
He was still trying to decide if it was worth it.
Some days he felt like hed been here forever;
others he felt like his bags still had that coating of red dirt
theyd carried when hed walked into the Academy that
first day on dusty feet.

81

Know where you are, know where youve been,

said Jack, shook his head over his foolishness, and
followed Weeds through a mossy courtyard to their next
class.
Great Heroic Feats of the Past was held in the
largest lecture hall, as it was required for each of the five
majors. The required group projects were one of their first
tastes of being organized into a Leaguea hero, a mage,
a combat spec, a sage, a guideas they would be if they
went into active duty after they graduated. Grey found the
class particularly useless as he was intending to skip
active duty entirely to go do graduate work in library
science and archival work for the Bureau.
Jack hopped over the back of a seat in order to sag
into the one next to Grey. The younger boy gave his
expected grimace, then went back to his book on Greskan
mythological figurines. His notes for Heroic Feats were
open next to them; Grey barely looked up from the pages
he was reading for the rest of lecture, but nonetheless
captured all the relevant class data in a spiky, precise
handwriting.
Jack, who tended to get caught up in peoples
words and forget that they might need recording for later
studying, had early on in their friendship figured out that
reading over Greys shoulder gave him a good idea of
what he should write down. (Otherwise, Jack ended up
with a series of random facts and detailed notes on the
professors personal anecdotes, but no idea about the
history of Academy insignia, which would be on the test).
After class, on the pebbly path outside of the
classroom, Leaf nearly barreled into Jacks side.
If you injure yourself before we get there, said
Jack, we might have a bit of an issue.
Oh, shut up, Leaf said cheerily. He was the year
below Jack in school, but sixteen to Jacks twenty. Jack

82

had entered the Academy on the later end of things. So

you changed your mind, going to come?
I was always going to come, said Jack.
Someone has to have your back if it turns out youre
terrible at reading people, again.
I knowI mean, I made friends with you. Leaf
smiled at Jack then said, But, no, Red seems like a
decent guy. A little shy.
The other students were all pouring out the same
door behind them. The bag of a passing red-banded
student clipped Jack along the same ribs that that combat
spec had bruised the previous week. Jack grimaced,
following Leaf out of the crowd. Yeah, Ive got high
hopes for your combat spec.
Jack, would you just trust me for a moment?
Give him a chance.
But what if hes not? I hate ambushes.
Just a different kind of fighting practice, is all.
They went into the dim light of the stable and
ambled past the horses, which whickered at their familiar
presence. (It said more than anything about Leafs
excitement that he didnt stop to pass out apples and sugar
cubes).
Jack went first up the tall ladder to stable loft. He
figured the one grumpily expecting surprises ought to be
the one to get the first fist to the jaw. Jack pulled himself
up amid piles of scratchy hay.
A scowling young manolder than the Academy
average of sixteen, but still quite young in any useful
metricstood on wood, which was covered in straw a
few inches deep. Red was in a light undershirt and the
characteristic loose pants assigned to combat specialists
not in a heavy armor specialization. His heavier jacket
was already folded to the side.

83

Jack looked on dubiously. Hes shy? he

whispered to Leaf, who clambered up the ladder behind
him. He looks murderous.
You must be Jack Farris. Red offered a handa
small hand for his height, Jack noted, ridged with wellearned callus.
Jack took it, shook once. You must be Red, he
said.
That works, I suppose.
Thanks for this, said Leaf, kicking at hay as he
looked around the loft. I dont He smiled ruefully.
The ducking and running they teach us doesnt quite cut
it for me.
Red shook his head. No, its good. TeachingI
had a bunch of little cousins back home that I showed the
ropes.
What kind of ropes? said Jack.
Red looked over at him. Fish. Were fishermen.
Mm, said Jack, checking the shadows for
ambushers.
Reds face was a solid scowl, unmoving; it
seemed built into his features, steady as stone. Well,
then. He cleared his throat. The first thing to learn in
any combat is how to take a fall. It involves relaxation
and dispersionif you stiffen, youll break something. If
you hit the ground on just one point of your body, you
will break something. He looked at Leaf, then Jack. Ill
demonstratewere up here in the straw so that no one
breaks anything too important while figuring out how to
fall. Come over here
Jack hesitated. Red scowled further. Why are you
acting like youre about to get a knife in the back, Farris?
Historically, said Jack, turning my back on a
combat spec means I get bruises.
Oh? Red gave a displeased snort. You are
gonna get bruises, if you keep coming, said Red. But

84

that just comes with the practice. I dont want to fight

you, Farris. I want to teach this kid here how not to get his
faced punched in so much.
I dont get punched that much, said Leaf. Both
Jack and Red looked at him in twin disbelief.
I dont have any reason to trust you, said Jack.
And a whole lot of reasons to not leave an Academy
combat spec in my blind spot. Not an insultjust a
precaution.
You Red shook his head, growing visibly
more irritated. I dont even know why youre here,
Farris. Far as I can tell youre doing just great at your
violent antics. But I wanted to make sure the untrained
kid youre dragging along with you doesnt get sent home
broken.
Leafs fine. Theyre just bulliesIf he didnt
keep turning them in
If you didnt take a kid into danger hes not ready
for
Hey! Leafs voice cut them both to silence.
Startled, they both turned to look at him. He glared up at
the two taller students. Jacks right. Ive been doing fine.
I chose to help and Im not Jacks job. But, Red Leaf
went on, even as Jack opened his mouth to protest, Reds
also right. I can be better. I want to learn.
I, said Jack.
Jack, said Leaf. My choices. You dont have to
be here if you dont want to, but if you do then you need
to trust that I know what Im doing.
Jack looked at Leafs stubborn jaw, Reds startled
blink. Alright, he said. Jack turned to the combat spec.
Red stared back warily. Im sorry, said Jack. Ive
justmy experience with people in your major has been
less than reassuring.
Red considered him for a moment, weighing
sincerity, then gave a rueful grimace. I am not unaware.

85

And Jack? I do have to turn them in. If its not

public, no ones ever going to notice, said Leaf. Bullies
will just keep bullying, because no one says anything. It
cant just be the two of us in the back gardens, stopping
every bullying we see. We cant see all of them, and
were not always going to be here. You cant wait around
for a heroic type or two to do some face-smashing for the
good guys. Publics the only way to make anything
happen. The younger guide nodded at Jacks thoughtful
expression, then said, So, Red, you wanna show me that
fall?
After an hour of straw-muffled thuds and stinging
elbows from imperfect technique, Leaf slid down the
ladder to visit with each equine, digging in his pockets for
stolen apples and carrots before he even hit ground. Red
paused at the head of the ladder. Have you read the
League Charter? he said.
What? Jack stopped in his descent, looking up.
The League Charter, said Red. Jack climbed
back up the rest of the ladders rungs to seat himself in the
lofts straw, almost like an apology.
The combat spec stayed standing, uncertain but
earnest. The First League, they drafted it when they
formed the school and the first hints of the Bureau to run
it.
Jack nodded. Its a manifest of sorts. What this
place and the Hero Corps are supposed to be.
Do you know what it says about us? Combat
specialists?
I dont, said Jack.
Specialists, said Red. We understand how
combat works. How bodies move, how weapons break,
how a battle turns. Were supposed to know how to fight,
sure, but thats only the tip of it. Were supposed to know
war. Were supposed to be teachers.
Teachers?

86

Leagues of five can hardly be expected to save

whole towns, said Red. Especially when they first
started out and there was only that First League and a few
of their collaborators. Combat specs are the ones who
would organize the villagers to pour boiling oil over the
town walls onto attackers heads, or teach farmers lads
how to string a crossbow to leave beside them in the
fields. We have always been fighters. But our purpose
was to know our craft so well we could teach other people
to save themselves.
Id never thought about it like that, said Jack.
Or at leastthats now how the Academy tells that
story.
I have a feeling you think a lot more than people
assume, said Red. He started to move toward the
ladders trapdoor.
Jack was still seated, picking at straw. I applied
to be a combat spec, originally, you know, he said.
Really? said Red. His face, startled, softened
into friendlier lines than either his stern teaching face or
his quietly fervent orators. Jack remembered Leaf saying
hes shy. You wanted to be a bully?
I want to learn how to save people.
Red considered thatthe present tensethen
nodded. See you next week?
Jack paused. Yeah, he said. I think so. He
smiled. We got to keep that little hellion out of trouble,
yeah?
The next day, the combat specs and heroes had a
Tactics midterm. Jack hadnt realized this until hed
already climbed up into the rafters. Babble rose up from
below him and he sighed as realization struck himexam
day, so no lecture.
Jack balanced on the balls of his feet, weighing the
advantages of heading to World Cultures when he spotted

87

a sheaf of papers fluttering near the center of the beams,

pinned into the wood.
Jack blinked and crept closer while Rhones
grumbled out instructions for the exam below. Jack
slightly expected to find the note pinned on top of them to
be in Ruperts precise hand, but instead a fierce scrawl
read, I expect this on my office desk before I get back to it.
Jack drew the tactics exam onto his lap, staring
down at the short professor, who was stomping around
explaining his policy on cheaters and how long he was
expecting the short answers to be. Alright, go, yes, start
already, Rhones barked out finally, and Jack scrambled
one-handed for the pen in his pocket.
On the back of the note, Rhones had added, You
aint as secretive as you think you are, kiddo.
Jack didnt manage to quite write in everything he
wanted before he had to sneak out of the rafters. Hed
gotten overly excited about a question of Raynard the
Shiftys tactics during the Gremlin Wars and smudged his
ink, but he thought hed gotten his point across. He
dropped it off in Rhoness cluttered, empty office and
then sprinted to the infirmary, where he hid among the
drying plants and tried to figure out exactly what had just
happened. Between Thorne and Rhones, Jack was getting
a little concerned about how many people were paying
attention to him.
Jack was scowling over his equine studies
textbook later that evening when a precise knock sounded
through the dorm door. In the bunk below, Grey turned a
page. You going to get that?
You get it, said Jack. Im reading about horses,
I have enough hardship for the afternoon.
Think about it like a break from torture, offered
Grey. What a joy, to leap from the upper bunk, and cross
the cluttered floor, and turn the doorknobwhat a joy it

88

would be to abandon those textual equines on your ratty

old bedroll
My bedroll has character, said Jack.
Oh, is that what character smells like?
The knock sounded again. COME IN, said
Grey. ITS UNLOCKED.
Jack, said Laney Jones as she strode through the
opened door. Im using your desk.
Jack propped himself up on his forearms, blinking
down at her. Okay. She was already sweeping his herbs
and experimental potions to the side and stacking her
books in the newly empty space. Laney sat herself primly
in the chair, facing the bunk bed with a notepad on her
lap. Alright, pipsqueak, she said. Go.
Grey jerked upwards, sending a couple papers
flying. What?
Elsewhere, communications, transport spells.
You had things you wanted to say.
I thought you just wanted to use Jacks desk.
Laney lifted her head and told Jack on the upper
bunk, Hes bright, this adopted kid of yours.
Ha, ha, said Grey. Did you want my help?
Because thats not how to get it.
I want to learn this, she said.
And that is how to get it, said Jack, squinting at
another manual.
Grey fiddled with a pen, glaring up at the boards
of the upper bunk. Laney refrained from shifting in her
seat, holding her pen a half-inch from the notebooks
page.
The Elsewheres everywhere, said Grey.
Thatsthe mage professorsve talked about this,
right? She nodded primly. He wiggled his toes, searching
for words, and went on, The basic metaphysical theory
of it allthe Elsewheres a cousin universe, or a parallel,

89

or a mirror. Its a great scholarly debate, of course.

Theres this philosopher in New Bedds who
She cleared her throat, smiling pleasantly.
Grey fiddled with a pen, looking at her, and said,
But thats not really the point. He huffed a breath.
Okay. The Elsewhere is a universe that lies beside
oursbeside isnt really the right world, but do you get
what Im saying? Our world and the Elsewhere occupy
the same space, without actually interferingokay? And
where our world is all stone and horses
Ugh, called Jack cheerfully from above.
and plants and air, the Elsewhere is magic.
A big seething mass of gold fire, Laney agreed,
glancing down at her paper, which had nothing written on
it yet.
Well, we dont actually know what the Elsewhere
itself looks like, said Grey. People theorize about
opening direct ports, that kind of thingbut itd eat any
mage who tried. Its dangerous enough as is. But they
hypothesize it looks something like that.
And whats all this fuzzy theory stuff got to do
with transport? She clicked her pen open.
Same thing fuzzy pattern theory has to do with
you being able to tie up enough magic to make a small
bomb around your wrist, he said. If you figure out how
things work, then you can figure out how to use them.
And how is this, specifically, transport theory?
Well, what is transport? said Grey.
There was a pause. Laney realized he actually
wanted her to answer. Moving something, she said
dryly.
From one place to another in our world, he said,
straightening with a wave of his hands. And see, here,
this is the complicated partor the simple part, really
the fuzzy one. The Elsewhere overlaps with every point in
this world, but without touching, yeah? Okay. And the

90

way mages work is they have anan attractiveness to the

Elsewhere. They can call itand it can influence them in
return, which is why mages get headaches and whatever
else when theres some sort of chaotic event in the
Elsewhere. They call them Elsewhere stormsElsewhere
sickness has got something to do with bulk turbulence, I
think. Theres a good paper
Laney cleared her throat.
Er, said Grey. So, when a mage conjures up
some magic, some gold fire, whatever you want to call it,
he (or she) is forcing a point of contact with the
Elsewhere and our world. Thats how they pull the magic
throughthrough the skin of the world, osmosis, right,
or, well, theres a theory called tunneling that sounds
pretty neatbut anyway. No breaks in the edges of either
world, just contact between two adjacent, whole points.
Okay, said Laney. And this connects to
transport
Transports a derivation of just simple magic
conjuring, but without any conjuring. Grey flung his
hands in the air.
Laney blinked slowly, then said, dry, In which
case its not conjuring anymore, is it?
He made an irritated noise at her and went on
explaining, The mage just brings the object into contact
with the Elsewhere, and then, because all of the
Elsewhere is connected to all of the Elsewhere, and
because the Elsewhere exists at every physical point of
this world
Um, said Laney.
Grey tapped his forehead, screwed up his nose,
and slowed down. The object is in contact with the
Elsewhere, so its interacting with all of the Elsewhere.
The Elsewhere is interacting with our whole world at
once. With the proper mental discipline, you can send the
object anywherebecause, in a sense, its touching

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everything. You just have to be able to hold that in your

mindthe span and duality of the Elsewhere. He
glanced at the intricate knotting around her ankles, which
she had folded under herself. I bet you can handle the
mental discipline, he said.
So all of this hinges on that Elsewhere
connection the mages have, said Laney slowly.
Whatever it is that lets them pull magic through the walls
of the world, whatever it is that pulls back.
That, and an ability for abstract thought, said
Grey. Here, Ive got books
Jack tuned out, flipping through pages,
remembering how a nice lady baker he knew liked to say,
Dont look a gift horse in the mouth. Before shed
explained, hed always assumed she meant it was because
it might bite.
When Jack glanced down again, Laney had her
forehead propped on one hand, staring at the open page of
a book like she thought it would cave under the
interrogation.
Do you get the premise? ventured Grey, who
had gone back to sorting through dragon spotting guides
for awhile. I know the professors tend to get very
esotericMimsy in particular verges on spiritual, which
hey maybe it works for someone, doesnt seem very
effective to mebut. Well, I know this can seem sort of
fuzzy science, but its not. Its precise. Theres a, well
Ive read theres a sort of clarity when its managed. To
touch a spot of air and realize its more than a spot of air.
Its like, say, standing high in the mountains on the
clearest day and staring all the way out to the seano,
wait, that sounded terribly fuzzy, sorry.
I think I understand, Laney said. She
straightened, flipping the book shut and smiled her
politest at him. Thank you, Grey.

92

Dont you want to try it? I could help! I know,

well, Ive read the proper technique anyway and
If Im managing this, its not today, she said,
standing. And Id like it to blow up in my face in the
peace of my own space a few times before I perform.
Grey made a disgruntled noise, settling back. If
you wanted me to treat you as a performing elephant and
not a classmate, you only had to
Elephant?
They have long memories, compassion, and
intelligence! said Grey. And matriarchal clans.
Above, Jack chuckled into his paperwork.
Laney glanced up at him. You want to join this
conversation, Farris?
Im not sure I could contribute in any meaningful
way. Youve got most of the relevant humor covered
already
Jack tried to dodge the balled up paper she threw
at his head, but whatever else one had to say about
Lanetia Jones, she had excellent aim.
Another knock sounded on the door; Laney
opened it before Jack and Grey had the opportunity to get
very far into convincing each other that the other one
should open it. Rupert poked his head through the door.
Oh, hi Laney. If you and Jack are free, Sez says theres
something in town she needs a few swords to handle.
Jack blinked, then tumbled quickly off the bed,
grabbing for his jacket. Laney grabbed her book bag (her
pistol bag). Rupert tossed them each a granola bar and a
flask of waterhydrateand out they went.
On the bottom bunk, Grey rolled his eyes and
went back to his book.
Jack was back three hours later, with a bruise
forming up his left side from his hip to his ribs and a
broken finger. A manticora, said Jack to Grey. It had
taken up residence in this back-alley and would go out

93

foraging at nightit liked folk if they were sake-flavored

especially
Grey hopped off the bed, heading for Jacks bag of
medical supplies while he threw critiques at Jacks
adrenaline grin. Greyd never splinted a finger before, and
he liked learning new things.
Finishing up the last of the splint, Grey said, You
looked like youd seen a ghost when you got in last night,
Squirrel.
Jack blinked. Just a weird conversation. I thought
I was in one kind of trouble, and it turned out to bea job
offer. I think.
Thorne was recruiting you for the library? Grey
joked. You gonna come with me, instead of off to dark
caves and spider-webby pits of doom?
Jack climbed up onto the second bunk for the
second time that night. Youll have to slay your
bookworms yourself, Grey. Luckily I have utter faith in
your ability to take down anything if it threatened your
books.
There was a long pause, rather than the expected
tumble of banter.
Grey?
Jack heard a page turn, below. I have faith in me,
too, said Grey. But I came here to get away from
monsters.
What? To the Academy? said Jack, almost
laughing. Well, dont worry, pip. I dont think sages are
generally called on for the public defense.
Guides, either, said Grey cheerily. So we can
both sleep easy.
Yeah, said Jack, rolling over and pulling his
bedroll over his shoulders. Easy.
A few weeks later, Rupert was waiting outside the
second largest lecture hall when Jack climbed down from
eavesdropping on Tactics. Rupert handed Jack a cheese-

94

stuffed roll. You never eat lunch, he said. As Jack took

it with a startled thanks, Rupert added, A friends asked
to meet with me and Sez tonightsomethings up in
town.
If you need backup, said Jack.
Mostly I just thought youd like to be in the
know, said Rupert.
That, too, said Jack. When they asked Laney
that afternoon, she explained she had a test the next day,
but demanded a full report upon their return.
A few hours later, after their last classes, Jack
ducked as he followed Rupert inside Sally-Annes fish
shop. The door wasnt quite built for someone Jacks size.
The pounding of the factory looms on the floor above
could be heard through the ceiling.
They headed through the smoky, greasy air, over
the floor scattered with straw and fishbones, to one of the
creaky booths in the back. Sez was already there, her
booted feet crossed and fringed skirt dangling over her
knees. Sally-Anne stood in front of her, tray loosely
balanced in one hand while she smiled down at the young
woman with purple-black hair.
Oh, there are my heroes, said Sally-Anne. She
kissed Rupert on the cheek. Sit down, you. Ill bring
some fish over.
Maam, said Jack. Sally smiled at him and
moved off.
Aw, hes polite, said Sez. Bartll be here soon,
she told Rupert.
Do you know what he wanted to talk about?
Sez shrugged, rolling her eyes. Old Barty gets
more secretive every year. She waved at Jack to sit
down. Welcome to the conspiracy, forester. Oh! And
Ive something for you. She dug through deep pockets
filled with knotted string and scraps of paper, and pulled
out a folded envelope.

95

Jack brightened. Thanks!

She must be pretty, said Sez to the cheer on his
freckled face. Why cant you use telegraph lines and
mail pony expresses like a normal person?
Star crossed lovers, said Jack. No, Im kidding,
dont look so excited.
And the sneaky communications?
Were just rather private people, said Jack,
folding it away.
Oh, and there he is, our Knight in grumpy armor.
Hiya, Bartholomew. Sez leaned back, smiling at the
stout, muscled young man crossing the fish shop floor.
Like Leafs new friend Red, Bartholomew had the
sun-dark skin and flat-nosed features of a coastal lad, but
when Bart opened his mouth he was clearly a River Rat
born and bred. His accent was as sharp as Sez and SallyAnnes; Rupert fell now and then into posh rounded
vowels.
Bartholomew wrinkled a brow at Sez and slipped
past the two Academy students with a gruff nod, as
though the last time Bartd seen Rupert hadnt been
outside an emptied Thing nest in Knight territory, as
though the time before that hadnt been at this same booth
for a plate of steaming trout.
You left your bowler hat at home, said Sez.
This must be unofficial business.
Youre always unofficial business, said Bart.
She smiled beatifically at him.
Bartholomew Saito, this is Jack Farris, said
Rupert absently, eyeing a seat dubiously before he sat in
it. They shook; Bart wary, Jack curious.
Bart ruffled Ruperts hair, which Rupert took with
good grace from the older young adult and which almost
sent Jack off laughing.
You could brush the seat off, if its bothering
you, said Sez.

96

Id have to touch it with my hand, said Rupert.

That would bother me more. Do you know how many
people have sat here before?
Stop questioning my girlfriends cleanliness
standards.
Im
notIm
questioning
Sally-Annes
customers cleanliness standards.
Ill go grab us some grub, said Jack.
Jack paid for the food at the counter. It was hot
and greasy, but very cheap and he only had to wait for a
little bit before they slid it, steaming, over to him. He
stuck a fry in his mouth and grinned a thanks at the fry
cook over the fry dangling from his lip as he scooped up
the tray.
When Jack got back to the table, Bart was
scowling, Ruperts back was stiff with irritation, and Sez
had abandoned her superior smirk to lean across the table
and stab her finger at the rough grain of the table to make
her points.
Well, come talk to me first next time, Sez,
Bartholomew was saying.
You hats were ignoring it. Tell me your bosses
would have been okay with me and mine clearing a dock
in your territory, even if you wouldnt. She swept her
hand over the table, but paused to give Jack a cheery
smile when he put down the fried fish and potatoes and
slid into the booth next to Rupert. Because you have
bosses now, Barty, Sez told the Shore Knight lieutenant.
Just because I trust you, doesnt mean I can trust them.
And Rupert doesnt have bosses? said
Bartholomew. The Academys
Hes not in a League yet, said Sez. Hes not
following anyones orders. He doesnt win tithes for
number of streets defended.
You know thats not why Bart joined up, Sez,
said Rupert.

97

I know, said Sez. But he doesnt seem to

understand that when Im making choices that involve
more lives than just mine, I need to consider not just who
he is but who he answers to.
The Knights are, started Bart.
are bullies, said Sez promptly.
They seem like they might be trying to be
heroes, said Jack, dragging a fry through a little bowl of
vinegar (Rupert made a face; despite being a local, he had
never caught on to that particular custom).
Not all of them, said Sez.
Someones got to take care of everything
downriver, said Bart. The tenements, the
shantytowns and people cant do it alone. Were
stronger together. Thats what the Knights are for.
We were together, said Sez. We were a team,
us three. You left.
And in half a year, when he graduates, Rupertll
be actually gone. Theyll assign him off a League in some
hinterland, said Bartholomew, thick eyebrows creasing
downwards. He wasnt a shouter, never had been. In
arguments, his voice rumbled and rolled, not loudening
but deepening. (As a child, in arguments, he had
squeaked; Sez never let him forget it). So dont shout at
me about people abandoning ship.
Rupert dropped his forehead onto the table.
Pretty sure my uncles planning on trying to stick me
into Academy administration anyway, he said into the
wood grain. Come on, guys, we have better things to do
right now than squabble.
For instance, said Jack, this fish is delicious.
Sez ruffled Ruperts head but didnt argue against
his claim. She snatched a fry up along with her
composure, and looked cheerily at Bart. Sez was a short
fuse and a fast healer, didnt hold a grudge longer than it
took for her to blink it out of her system.

98

Bart looked wearily back, the tremors of the

argument still thrumming through him.
Whats the story, Barty? she said.
Story? I thought we were just shouting, said
Bartholomew.
You wouldnt have asked us here just for that,
said Rupert. You know we know where the Knights
self-proclaimed boundaries are. Rupert had his Academy
jacket slung across his chair, but he let his backbone be
less than poker-straight. He would never be a grinner, but,
when exchanging a glance with Bart, dodging Sezs
cheerful elbow, Rupert looked like he might have been
the kind of kid who got into mud fights along the river
shore, once upon a time.
Do you now? said Bart. Because you hunt so
often in them that I thought maybe youd misplaced your
map. Rupert solemnly handed him a fry and pushed one
of the baskets of fish at him.
Bart took the fry with absent familiarity while
Rupert gave him a lookit communicated roughly this:
that if he kept grumpily dead-panning instead of eating,
Bart was going to starve and Rupert would never let him
live it down.
Theres a house, down by Weavers Lane and the
Red Fox tenements, said Bart. Theres a nest of Things
in it.
Sez nibbled a bit of purple-black hair, attention
perking up. Near Riverrose Factory?
Yeah, said Bart, after a swallowed mouthful of
fry. Its one of ourswell, was. We found out about the
Things in the Darkness infestation because the couple
fellows who were bunking there got et. He paused,
looking at his fourth fry like he might have forgotten how
good deep-fried potatoes actually tasted, and added,
How did you find out about the house?

99

Sez smirked and Bart said, Ah, yes. I do miss that

being on my side.
I still tell you things, she said.
Not everything.
Sweetheart, said Sez. I never told you
everything.
So what about the house? said Rupert. A Thing
infestation, in your territoryyoure not just warning us
off, are you?
No, said Bart. We sent in a team to clear it
five men, good fightersand they didnt make it out.
Condolences, said Rupert quietly.
They knew what they were getting into when
they signed up with us, said Bart.
Condolences anyway, said Rupert.
Theres more to that house than meets the eye,
said Bart. My superiors have said that its not worth
clearingwere just boarding it up. But I think something
else has to be going on.
Ive got one hint as to what that might be, said
Sez, digging through a pocket. She pulled out a weathered
old broadside advertising a play. On its back side was a
complicated circular emblem done in yellow wax.
What is it? said Bart.
One of my birdies gave it to me, said Sez. Said
it had something to do with the house, and why your boys
didnt come out.
It looks like a curse, said Rupert. They all
looked at him and he shrugged. I dont know anything
more than that. But it looks like an overcomplicated
version of some of the advanced assignments the mages
getI sorted their permanent files last summer.
Do you think Laney could tell us more? said
Jack.

100

Maybe, he said. This looks like some

complicated stuffdoctorate level magicians work at the
university. I bet Grey might be able to help, though.
Grey? said Bartholomew.
Jacks roommate. Hes a sage.
Bart pulled the drawing over to look at it. I didnt
know about any curse, said Bart. I only knew it was a
safe house because one of the higher ups mentioned
something off-hand yesterday. Bart tore a fried fish in
half, but turned it in his hand instead of taking a bite. So
the message is this, I guess: somethings going on. I dont
know what. But there was something going on in that
house they didnt want me knowing about.
Betraying your bosses? said Sez, as lightly as
she could, curious and approving.
Youre the one who calls them that, said
Bartholomew. He nudged the fish basket softly and said,
If theyre doing something in there that somehow causes
that many Things to cluster and nest there? That requires
a curse strong enough to kill five of my men? Its not
betrayal, he said. I was never here for the Knights
sake.
Well keep an eye out, said Rupert.
So will I, he said. Now go home, kiddo, said
Bart, who had nine months on Sez and more than a year
on Rupert. Havent you got school in the morning?
When they got back to the Academy, Jack said
goodbye to Rupert and headed up an extra flight of stairs
to Laneys dorm room. Glorias out studying with
Heather, she said.
That must be a one-sided conversation, said
Jack, thinking of the taciturn guide and ebullient sage
with her blonde pigtail braids.
Actually, when you get them into technical
fields, that Heathers a chatterbox, said Laney. So,
whos Ruperts friend?

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Jack told her about Bart the Shore Knight and his
easy if grumpy camaraderie with Rupert and Sez. He
explained the infested house and pulled the sketch of the
curse out of his pocket. She didnt know anything more
about it, so he folded it up again to show to Grey later.
Laney offered to go check out the house and see how
many Things she could spot in the nest.
Jack started to get up from where he had been
perching in her desk chair, but Laney interrupted him. She
was sitting cross-legged on her bed (she had the lower
bunk).
So Thorne talked to you, too, said Laney. At
Jacks startled look, she smiled. Remember, she said. I
pay attention. Was it about being special, by which I
think he meant contrary? Recruitment to a quieter
branch of the Bureau.
Jack nodded. Did he talk to anyone else?
A few, she said. No one else who was at the
fish shop, though.
I guess you and I made an impression at Sallys,
said Jack. I dont think many people could have made
the shots you did.
She shrugged.
Im surprised Thorne didnt talk to Rupert, said
Jack.
Why? said Laney.
Youve got a scary way about you when you
want it, and better aim, said Jack. And Im a big bruiser
with a friendly face and an obvious distaste for rules. But
Ruperts one of the most competent monster hunters Ive
ever met. Hes got more experience under his belt than
most five year League veterans. If you and I belong in the
special club, so does he.
We look like possible trouble who could be put
to good use, said Laney plainly. Ruperts the shining
example of the loyal son. He presents as a doormat.

102

Hey, theres one of us with the gumption to start

hunting under his Uncle and the whole Bureaus blind eye
and it wasnt you or me.
I said he presents as someone looking for
someone else to call the shots. I know, Jack. Therere few
people I want more at my back in a fight than Rupert. But
hes put a lot of years into being so palatable hes
invisible. Im not turning him in.
And you wouldnt let me, either, I bet.
Laney eyed him levelly, wearing a small, polite
smile like a promise.
Yeah, said Jack. I definitely see why they tried
to recruit you.
She giggled, bending her head over her books, a
clear, bright sound. The more they fought together
Rupert was dropping shyly by their dorm rooms at least a
couple times a week these daysthe better Rupert was
getting at acting like he had somebody guarding his flank,
and the more Laney was willing to trust them with her
honest smiles.
When Jack climbed back down the stairs to his
own floor, there was a crash and wooden groan that
suggested a combat spec was sparring with a bedpost.
Gold light flickered from underneath the door of a
studying mage. Jack unlocked the fifth door down and
poked his head in. Hey, Grey.
Mmph. Grey was mostly buried under his
comforter, just the messy top of his head and the tip of a
book visible.
I have something for you, said Jack, shutting the
door behind him and tugging the broadside with the
drawing of the curse on it.
Greys comforter slid down as he propped himself
up on his elbows. From Ruperts town friend? With the
fire juggling?
Jack handed him the broadside.

103

Yellow wax, huh. Grey turned it over, read the

broadside announcement briefly, then looked back at the
circular emblem. He squinted with a wrinkle of his nose.
Its a magicians curse, he said. Whats it from?
Someone Ruperts friend knows said it was
connected to a house with a big Thing infestation, said
Jack.
Grey looked back down at the paper, blinked, and
then turned it upside down. Thats a kids writing.
How can you tell? said Jack. And what kind of
curse?
Im really smart, he said without looking up.
Gee, yeah, thats the answer I was searching for.
Ive never studied magicians sigils exclusively,
said Grey. But I know some booksit depends on
placement, on intent. And you dont even know how its
connected the house.
Well, thanks, said Jack. He moved around,
gathering up homework and herbs from his desk.
On the lower of the two bunks, Grey moved to sit
cross-legged, two books open beside him, a pencil tangled
in his hair. Sezs broadside was laid out open on the
rumpled bedding. The sage ran a finger along one of the
fat, clumsy wax lines.

104

105

Chapter Seven. Obituaries II.

Two dock workers and an apprentice disappeared
by the warehouse before Rupert, Laney and Jack dealt
with the infestation there. The eldest of the two dock
workers, Timon Noburo, liked to tell the newer workers
ghost stories about souls trapped in the slap of boat sails
and watch the landlubbers squirm.
The apprentice, named Harry Seeaz, was hoping
to go down the river one day and get all the way to sea.
The two Knights bunking in the house by Red Fox
tenements had been named Alexis Jann and Dor
Toroyevsky, both highly educated mages. The Shore
Knights had bribed Alexis away from a crime family on
the coast, and Toroyevsky from the Bureau University, so
they were in a kind of witness protection.
They had not gotten along initially (Alexis refused
to wear a proper dress, or to put away her knives;
Toroyevsky refused to give up his borscht or call her
anything but girl).
Theyd had some breakthroughs in the research
the previous week. Toroyevsky had leaned over her
shoulder as she scribbled equations. Alexis had sketched a
last diagram and leaned back, expecting derision.

106

He had called her maam, and pulled the paper

over for closer study.
Four of Bartholomews men, the ones who had
gone into a house near Red Fox and not come out, had
been Rivertown natives.
One if them, Jenkins, an eight-year veteran of the
Knights, had taken the night off once a full moon. The
others werent sure if he was a were, part sea-kelpy, or
just some kind of religious. All of these options were
side-eyed dubiously by the rest of the group.
The fifth man, a Jeremiah Shiggins, had emigrated
from the coast with his parents when he was nine. The
team had teased him for his warbling accent, but it made
his girlfriend think of faraway places and that made her
happy.

107

Chapter Eight. Test Scores.

Kid! came a gruff shout across the courtyard.
Jack, slung happily between two branches, twitched a foot
dangling ten feet above the ground and kept reading.
Farris.
Jack startled and leaned down to look under the
foliage. Professor Rhones moved across the gravel ground
on short, grumpy legs. His cropped beard bobbed with his
stride.
In trouble, Squirrel? said Grey, who was sitting
at the base of the tree. Jack had pestered him out into
sunlight through kind admonishments and the brewing of
a particularly pungent potion in their room.
Always, said Jack, dropping down and
wondering if the test booklet in the rafters had been some
kind of prank.
Rhones stopped in front of him, flicking a glance
at Grey. Grey stayed seated and flicked him an equally
unimpressed look over his Coastal Maladies and
Hedgewitch Traditions.
When Jack hit the floor on his two bare feet,
Rhones pushed a pile of papers at him. Jack took them.
Passably done, Rhones said. Take a look at
General Howes siege on the Green Harbor Port, in the
reign of Stewart the Twitchy. The tactics professor
strode away.

108

Um, said Jack.

Ive got a book on that, said Grey. He squirmed
against the tree and settled back down. Hed complain for
the first few minutes about sticks and stones (my words
dont hurt me, Jack; why do you think its preferable to sit
out here again?), but eventually his awareness of the
surrounds would disappear as his nose got closer and
closer to the page.
Jack reached up to pluck a leaf. He dropped it
between the pages of Trauma and Cohesion in Heroic
Group Work and said, Ive got to go. Bruises to attain,
and so on.
Grey waggled a forgiving hand at himJack
wasnt entirely sure hed heard the actual words, but hed
tried. Greyd remember to head back inside when the sun
got too low for him to keep reading.
Jack met with Leaf and Red in the quiet stable loft
again. Leaf practiced falls and rollsRed wanted him to
be able to pop up again quick after being thrown to the
ground from any direction. Jack and Red took the other
half of the loft floor and sparred while Leaf called on
encouragement and they called advice and instructions
back to him.
When Jack crawled up into bed that night, there
was a book on coastal warfare on his pillow. A scrap of
Greys old notes was tucked inside to bookmark the
section of the siege of Green Harbor Port.
Jack flipped it open and paged through it while he
lay on his stomach, chewing a pen. General Howe had
tried a similar maneuver to the one Jack had outlined on
the exam, only to be crushed under a combination of
events: an unexpected accuracy of enemy catapults, one
of Howes own units getting lost on the way to the field,
and an engineered flash flood.
Jack had an embarrassed urge to rewrite his exam
answers (the flaws in the plan werent numerous, or even

109

obvious, but they were certainly crippling once spotted),

and a growing respect for the defenders ingenuity.
Im just not used to not being the underdog, he
muttered to himself. You have to think differently.
Jack hopped out of bed to turn off the electric
light, shakily installed in the students dorm a few years
back. The bulb hung shyly in the middle of the room,
cringing at the windows breezes. The gas line Jack used
for his potions had been used to heat the rooms, years
ago.
Jack climbed the bunk in the dark, the frame
swaying slightly. He rolled himself up in blankets. An
hour later, still awake, he grabbed his papers and
stumbled out into the hallway, where he scrawled battle
plans until the sky lightened.
Skipping breakfast, he managed to get a quick
hour of sleep before he had to sprint to Tracking (he was
late; professor Merris twitched unimpressed, unsurprised
eyebrows). He smuggled in quick cat naps between
classes, but spent most of the day alternatively overhyped on adrenalin or blinking in slow motion as he tried
to remember how to sit up straight.
(Placing a stack of hand written notes in the
middle of Rhones desk that afternoon, though, he walked
out with a spring in his step). (Then he walked straight up
to his dorm and passed out face-down in his bunk, his
drying herbs stirring softly by the open window).
Leaf and Red arranged meetings twice a week to
bruise and pummel each other in the name of education.
As long as Jack wasnt nursing a wound from an
adventure with Rupert the night before, he relished the
opportunity to stay in fighting shape. Guides spent a lot
more time ducking and running than he really felt was
necessary.

110

At the next fighting practice in the stable loft, the

trio was interrupted. What are you doing? hissed a
voice.
Weeds was standing one step down the loft ladder,
staring up at them all. Red hastily dropped the chokehold
he was demonstrating on Jack. Um, said Jack.
Studying?
Weeds stared between then, wide-eyed. He
scrubbed at his brown curls anxiously. Youre fighting.
Were not allowed to fight. Youre going to get in
trouble!
Were not fighting, were learning how to fight,
said Leaf. They wont teach us, so were doing it
ourselves.
Weeds looked horrified. Farris, Fenn, I wont
turn you in, butyou cant keep doing this. And you
who are you?
Francis Uyeda, said Red.
You can call him Red, said Leaf comfortably
(Leafs actual name was Shawn Fenn; he never told them
the story behind his nickname, or the tattoo on his left
shoulder).
There was a hand-shaped bruise on Weeds left
wrist. Weeds, said Jack. Were learning to fight
because we want to be able to protect people better.
Weeds was not an uncommon rescuee of Leaf and Jacks
extracurricular activities. But also how to protect
ourselves better.
Weeds looked at him, flushing.
Because people have a right to defend
themselves, said Jack slowly, as kind as he knew how.
And they dont always get taught that; or taught how.
Weeds looked from one to the nextJacks
invitation, Leafs shining expression of earnest
friendliness, Reds withdrawn scowl. Do you think do
you think I could learn?

111

Jacks face split into a blinding smile. Red said,

Anyone can learn. Just have to try.
After running an uncertain Weeds through some
basic exercises, Jack washed his hands in the spigot
outside the barn and followed Leaf and Red toward the
mess hall. The dining commons, a sullen room with few
windows, still hadnt quite forgiven the students for their
boisterous grime. Red had just discovered that Leaf had a
side hobby which consisted of reading about the history
of public policy, so the two were in deep (occasionally
loud) discussion over fishing statutes along the coast.
Jack followed behind them, ladling river trout and
rice onto his plate. He was still working on waking up all
the way, though going through roundhouse kicks in the
barn loft had helped.
I was right about that wax sketch you brought
me, said a voice at Jacks elbow. Grey dropped three
scoops of rice on his own plate, ignoring the trout in favor
for grabbing a hunk of hard cheese. The young boyd
been wary of the lowland crop their first year at the
Academy, but now it was hard to keep Grey away from a
pot of well-cooked rice.
Jack pulled away from the back of the guides
group, following Grey to a table that was empty except
for a napping combat spec. What did you find?
Grey dropped his plate on the table and perched
cross-legged on the bench across from Jack. Its a
magicians sigil, like I thought. A curse, in laymans
terms, but Im not a layman.
A sigilso, a mage cast a rune, said Jack.
Grey shook his head, then made a face. Okay,
fine, sort of? But in the same way ain the same way a
butter knife is a balanced sword, or, or Bertie the Dragon
Learns to Fly: the Illustrated Edition is an eight-hundredyear old collection of scrolls on dragon lore. He stirred
through his rice mounds with a fork hed pawned off a

112

mountain-born mage in exchange for homework help.

Hed never gotten the hang of the chopsticks Rivertown
favored. (Jack, on the other hand, had been happy to learn
any skill that ended in getting food of some kind to his
mouth).
So, its a better rune?
Grey opened his mouth to protest, then closed it.
Well, he said finally. Yeah. But the complexities of it!
You know what it takes to get it to balance? If you dont
mark all the gates right, conserve the flow, coordinate the
barriers? Theres enough power in this thing to blow half
the cityokay, like a block or two, but still. You have
to
This sounds interesting, said Laney, sliding onto
the bench beside Grey. Or at least it sounds like the three
of us are less likely to end up missing school tomorrow
due to a sudden case of being dead.
Grey jumped at the interruption and, to cover it,
took to his rice with a passion.
Laney dropped a napkin in her lap and twirled her
chopsticks across her fingers. I want to hear this straight
from Grey this time. Getting your mishmash retelling
later isnt the same, Jack.
Rupert sagged down into the bench across the
table from them. Do we know anything new?
I know everything, Grey muttered.
Rupert kept a straight face through the strain of
long practice. Thanks for IDing that siren infestation the
other week, said Rupert. It would have hurt a bit to
walk into that oblivious.
Grey shrugged. Signs of it were a bit obvious,
he said.
That was a thank you, added Rupert.
Youre idiots, said Grey. Not for not
knowingthats ignorance, not stupiditybut for going
after it on purpose.

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By youre idiots, you mean youre welcome,

maybe? said Jack.
Grey rolled his eyes.
So, said Rupert. What do we know?
Grey? Whats the sigil do?
Grey chewed his mouthful, eyeing the three of
them.
Please? said Jack.
Grey swallowed and rolled his eyes. Loosely?
he said. He made a face. Its a script from an older
tonguenorthern influence, though a brief popularity
among the coastal hags in the sixth century
Sum it for us, Rupert suggested.
He was, said Jack.
Grey blew out his nose. Bad luck, he said.
Loosely.
That doesnt sound too bad, said Jack.
Bad luck like oops your sword broke with a
monster two feet from your face, or youre chasing a
Thing into the basement and you fall and break a leg. Or
Laneys charms will all blow, Grey said, waving at the
knotted strings she wore as bracelets and anklets,
accidently, and shell be missing major parts of her
wrists and ankles.
Ah, said Jack. So, bad.
Id say so, said Grey. Grey gave a humph, which
for small, grumpy sages of any age is a satisfied noise.
Going to stay home this time?
Can we break it? said Rupert.
Laney chewed her lip lightly. I could try to just
burn it off.
Grey shook his head. Magic would just make it
strongerand if you used real fire, youd probably just
slip up and burn yourselfor meld the lines together and
make something worse and probably explosive.
Sages think they know everything, Laney said.

114

Thats sort of the point, said Grey.

Well, how do you break it then? she asked
primly.
He uncrossed his ankles, shifted, then crossed
them again. It depends, he said.
It depends.
Hey, Im just the messenger! Grey complained
to her level stare.
She probably wont shoot you, Jack said, trying
for reassuring. How do you break it?
I said it depends, Grey muttered. On what its
drawn in, for one, and what its drawn on. I mean,
because someone saw it and wrote it down for you, its
got to be written in ink, charcoalsomething visible.
Sigils like this are stronger if theyre just drawn with
Elsewhere juice, you know, that golden stuff Miss Sparky
heres raring to fling at me
Laneys gaze grew, if anything, more steady, and
Grey gulped.
Its stronger if you draw it in magic, like I said,
but they probably didnt, because then no one could see it,
and so no one would have been able to write it down for
you magic fades to invisible once its set. Grey
shrugged. So, if its not pure magic, you can probably
break it. Therere ways to cut and drain it, if youve got
proper reservoirs for itlike if its drawn on pumice
stone, and youve got a chisel, only no ones stupid
enough to draw it on pumice, Id think He put a
forkful of rice in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Or
there are ways to short-circuit it, if youve got a
conductor, or, well. He looked at Jack. But you dont
know what its drawn on, or with.
Not as such, no, said Jack.
Grey put the tines of the fork in his mouth,
wobbling the handle of it in the air. Hm, he said around
it.

115

No wonder the Knights got themselves burned,

said Jack.
Knights? said Grey.
They sent one of their squads in, not a one came
out, said Jack. Theyre leaving it a dead area,
nevermind the people who have to live next to it.
Rupert rubbed at his forehead. There was a
specific patch of it that ached when it came to Jack
(Rupert had a lot of headaches). Jack, if the only option
is going in and getting ourselves bad-lucked to death, then
were leaving it as a dead area, too.
Jack said, But, and Rupert looked at him until
he closed his mouth.
Grey spat out the fork towards his plate; Laney
caught it in one hand and gave him a stare that offered to
do terrible things with its pointy end if he didnt obey
basic table manners. She put it down with a soft clunk.
It depends, said Grey, again. He scrubbed at his
nose. So I guess Ill have to go with you.
No, said Rupert.
Do I look like I want to? I have books to read!
Youre a sage, said Rupert. Youre practically
a civilian. Jack, back me up.
Im a guide, Im nearly a civilian, said Jack.
Im not going to tell anyone not to be a hero, if theyre
willing.
Ugh, Im not trying to be a hero, said Grey.
Just trying to keep you from getting your faces blown
off. Ill just pop along, okay, take a glance at it, then
disable it however, and make my merry way out of your
crazy show.
Laney looked at Rupert. Someone needs to take
care of it, and if the Knights have already given it up as
lost
Ngh, said Rupert.

116

Laney started to smile. She was coming to know

the sound of Rupert caving.
Well go take a look at it tonight, then? said
Jack. Laney nodded. Rupert sighed. Tonight.
Later that evening, Jack and Grey were trailing
along the edge of the administration building. There was a
squeal and a thump as one of the back windows of the
Academy infirmary slid open. The squeal was the
windows, not that of the girl jumping out of it.
That was quick, said Jack.
Laney landed with the comfortable quiet thump of
someone used to leaping out of high trees, and stood with
the straight spine of someone trained into good posture.
One of my study fellows helpfully offered me a sip of
numb-tea, said Laney. I had to sprint out of there.
They were trying to be nice, said Jack. If you
actually were going faint with Elsewhere sickness,
youdve been glad of the sip.
No ones nice, Farris, said Nurse, tucking in the
folded corners of the cot near the windowsill. She glanced
out the open window at him.
See you, Nurse, said Jack. Thanks for Laney.
Yes, thanks, Laney added.
Expect Ill see you later to stitch up all the
wounds, said Nurse, thumping the mattress in as nononsense a way as a mattress can possibly be thumped.
She walked towards the herbs cupboard in the back.
Laney turned to Jack, the faintest smirk creasing
one cheek. Her thick black hair was pulled back into an
overflowing braid. Small curls escaped to frame her face.
Ruperts got everything we need?
Do you even have to ask? said Jack.
Grey was looking around his bush at Laney
uncertainly. Are you Elsewhere-sick? he asked, as
though it might be contagious (it wasnt).

117

Does she look like shes about to faint? Jack

asked curiously.
Well, he said. She could be being stoic.
She often is, said Jack. Laney glanced at him.
He grinned back. But not today. Its a useful way to pull
her out of study group without too much of a hassle.
They met the rest of their party out in the
Rivertown streets. Sez leaned on the side of a black
automobile that was flecked with dried river dirt. Beside
her sprawled and curvy figure, Rupert stood pokerstraight, watching his classmates approach. His large bag
was at his feet. Sez watched the passerby with her favorite
smile, which said she probably knew something they
didnt.
Youre late, said Rupert.
Youre abominably and impossibly punctual,
said Jack. Hi, Miss Sez.
Rupert glanced over Grey, who stared back for a
moment before getting distracted something carved in a
brick wall. Sez said, Bringing along your kid brother,
then, Farris?
Do I look related to a barefoot, redheaded giant?
said Grey.
Sez eyed him, running her fingers over the
lanyards hanging from her pockets and belt loops. Ive
met you, said Sez thoughtfully. Youre the kid from
after the ruckus at Sallys, arent you?
Grey knows a thing or two about magicians
curses, said Jack.
Be specific, said Grey. I know a thing or two
about everything.
A sage? said Sez. And you managed to tear
him away from his books?
I feel judged, said Grey.
Ive lived in this town all my life, said Sez.
Ive seen enough Academy kids come and go to know

118

neither hell nor high water can stand between a book and
an apprentice adventurer with a silver armband.
Jack said, Youre rather purple, Sez. Got some
magic gold sparks hidden up your sleeve we dont know
about?
She laughed. Outside the Academy, the color
codings not so easy. Go on then, chaps. Good luck. Dont
get the new kid injured.
Hes not the new kid, said Rupert.
Im not the new kid, said Grey. Im not joining
your crazy gang, thank you kindly and all.
Youre a consulting sage, said Rupert. Fine,
yes, can we go now, boys and girls? Sez nodded a
farewell, and faded off to do whatever she filled her time
with when she wasnt finding them monsters to hunt
down.
Howcome she doesnt come along, stick a knife
in a Thing or two? said Grey, taking long strides to catch
up with Jack.
Shes not combat trained, not like us. Not for
monsters, Jack said.
And anyway, shes a lot more important than we
are, said Rupert.
What does she do? said Grey.
Shes a street performer, sometimes, said
Rupert. A fire juggler, at markets.
Uh, yeah, sounds important, said Grey.
You just read books a lot, said Jack. Do you
think that sounds important?
Yes, said Grey. Very.
Rupert sighed. Well, put it this waySez sees
almost everything that goes on in this town, and what she
doesnt see, someone tells her about. Everyone knows
Sez.
The Riverrose factory was a few streets from the
river, but on the other bank. It was surrounded by multi-

119

storey tenements. They walked down to the pig district to

use the bridge there (Grey made a face at the stench,
surging to the front of their group in order to leave it
swiftest).
Laneys been quieter since Grey showed up,
said Jack.
You know she doesnt play well with people she
doesnt like yet. Has to suss the situations out first.
Rupert sighed. But I suppose most everything ends up
liking you, Farris.
Jack laughed. If you think that, Ive got some
folk I need to introduce you to.
The tenement was three stories of close-packed
apartments with bars and boards over their small
windows. Hardy potted plants bloomed on the sills of
some. Next door was an old house, not yet bought up,
flattened and rebuilt into cheap housing or a belt buckle
factory. Thats it? said Grey. And you think the sigils
inside somewhere?
I dont know, said Jack. Sez said her source
didnt say.
Grey pulled on his hair, gripping the book he had
brought to his chest with his other hand (Magical
Properties of Materials). If I dont know what its on, or
what its drawn with, I cant do much.
And if you cant do anything, were not going
in, said Rupert. Jack opened his mouth. Rupert repeated,
Were not going in.
Grey squatted, staring at the squat abode with
boarded over windows. Laney said, I didnt see anything
when I was staking it out, but I didnt know to look for it
either.
How many Things did you see, Jones? said
Jack.
Jack, if we cant break the sigil, were not going
in, said Rupert.

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Five, said Laney.

How come you dont call her Miss Jones? said
Grey. You called Sez Miss.
She asked me not to, said Jack.
I told him not to, said Laney.
And its not five, said Grey. The other three
looked at him. He was squatting, forearms resting lightly
on his knees, staring forward at the house, all the
windows boarded up on the front of it except one.
Theres at least seven in there.
I spent half a free afternoon on the roof across the
street and I could only spot five, said Laney.
Two more might have joined them since,
offered Jack. She didnt look any less displeased.
Lets circle the house, looking for the sigil, said
Rupert. Sevens not any worse than five if were, as
previously discussed, not going in.
Just a moment, said Grey. He squatted again.
Can you spell this for me, Miss Jones? he asked, rising
with his hands full of the grainy dirt of the city street.
Do you know what people throw on this street?
said Rupert.
What kind of spell? said Laney.
Just stick some magic to it, nothing specific. He
lifted his hands. Grey held his breath and then looked
surprised when instead of drawing magic out of the air,
she reached for a knot (the Tyr spiral well knot, precisely)
of one of her anklets and loosened it. Gold fire pooled in
one palm. She put her hand over Greys upturned palms
and the light sank into the dirt.
Grey bounced his hands experimentally, grinned,
and crept forward. Jack followed, in case something
jumped out of the shadows that couldnt be killed with
book learning. (Grey would protest the existence of such
things, but Jack had a great deal of faith in noon-forged
steel).

121

They snuck along the edge of the little house, the

windows boarded and dark. Places of exiting and
entering, of movement between two spaces or two worlds,
they have power. Sigils can tap into that power, said
Grey. So, heres an educated guess
Grey blew lightly on the dirt, eyed its faint glow,
then tossed it on the front door. It sprinkled down like
filthy rain, but some of it clumped in lines and whorls,
glimmering again just faintly in that flicking, non-existent
firelight. Grey whistled, long and slow.
On the door, the sigil from the newspaper scrap
was drawn out where the magicked dirt had clung to the
invisible magical lines of the curse.
Damn, Grey said. I was hoping it was going to
be ink on dry wall or something. Pure inscribed magic
Can we look at it from back with the others?
said Jack.
What? said Grey. You cant take seven all by
yourself? He walked backwards, his gaze running the
outlines of the sigil pressed to the door in streaks of dirt.
Well? said Jack. Can you break it? If its
written in magic and not something physical. They drew
even with Laney and Rupert. Laney? said Jack.
Not by what Ive been taught, she said
grudgingly. They looked at the little sage who was
waiting on the sidelines. Grey rubbed his hands together
and grinned.
Its going to be a little more touchy, he said.
Magics a bit more explosive than ink, or a carving.
Should be fun. What hardware have we got?
Rupert opened his bag. A little basic weaponry,
bullets and powder in case Laney runs out
That happened once, she said.
Rupert went on. Bandages, wound-cleaning
salve, collapsible crutch, stakes made of the heartwood of

122

trees, field rations, flint and steel, collapsible battering

ram
Grey was staring at him.
They make us practice wearing battle armor,
said Rupert. And Laney put a lift spell on it. I like to be
prepared.
Mm, said Grey. Give me the heartwood.
Rupert drew it out. Grey selected three pale sticks,
then said, Oo! Copper wire. Ill take that, too.
Grey snuck forward, Jack creeping behind him.
What do you think of the kid? said Rupert to
Laney. Think he can do it?
He knows his magic lore, Laney said,
shrugging. We study together, and, she smirked, he
doesnt answer questions in class, but he makes faces like
he think he knows all the answers.
Well, if hes right, that sounds promising, said
Rupert.
That sounds insufferable, said Laney.
Whats he doing? said Rupert.
Laney squinted. Shorting the sigil somehow? The
heartwood to make the magic flow, and the copper to
redirect. I do hope he knows what hes doing, because
thats all very likely to redirect in way that will blow us
all the way to the seamstresss district if he doesnt.
Rupert sighed. If he doesnt, is ducking likely to
help?
Ill throw a shield up, maybe, said Laney,
fingers tapping over a braided cord on her left wrist. You
can duck if youd like, though. She grinned at him over
her shoulder and he gave her the wry look that for him
was almost as good as a returning peal of laughter. Its
alright, she said. You can share mine if you ask nice.
Im very nice, said Rupert.

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There was a flash, golden and strong as the

dungeon classroom during the mage mid-residency
exams. Ha! said Grey.
And insufferable takes the day, Laney
murmured.
I dont mind insufferable, so long as its
effective, said Rupert.
You havent met any proper insufferables yet,
then, said Laney. Your eyebrow is singed, she told the
sage when they returned, Grey beaming and Jack looking
rather stressed.
Well? said Rupert.
Didnt you see the giant flash of light? said
Grey.
Yes, but that doesnt necessarily mean you
managed to disable it, said Rupert.
It worked, said Grey. He waved his hand at the
door across the street. Where dirt had clung to and
outlined an intricate whorl of runes, now the edges of it
were charred black, a thick and shiny slice through the
entirety of it. I mean, youre still all crazy, and the house
is still full of shapeshifting, amorphous, magical
monsters, but, you know, there isnt any extra bad luck
tied into the equation.
Sounds good to me, said Jack, grinning at
Rupert. Rupert sighed.
What are you going to do now? said Grey,
looking a bit more like a curious fifteen-year-old and less
like a wise, tiny and sarcastic old wizard.
Send some Things back to whence they came,
Jack said cheerfully.
You justcharge in? he said dubiously.
Thats one way to do it, said Rupert. Jack
grinned at him.
Well, said Grey. That explains the volume of
bandages.

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I dont get injured that much.

Have you seen all the bloodstains on the floor?
All from your paper cuts, said Jack.
Laney cracked open her guns and knocked out the
bullets into a pocket on her belt. She drew out a packet of
bullets from another pocket and re-loaded them. These
flashed as though reflecting the golden light of a distant
torch, but the street was only lit by a fizzing electric lamp.
Youre going to shoot them? said Grey. I feel
like you probably should have noticed this before, but you
know that doesnt work on Elsewhere-born creatures,
right?
Laney drew a bullet out by two fingers and tossed
it at him. Grey caught it awkwardly, bouncing it between
two hands. Er, thats not how you shoot, either.
Bullets cant touch Things, youre right, she
said. But they can stop a chimera or a rabid banshee and
were out here just as often dealing with solid monsters
like those. But you see that bullet?
Grey nodded, a little worried if he didnt that the
next one coming his way might be shot and not thrown.
A bullet cant touch a Thing, because theyre just
leaked out of the Elsewhere, she said. But that bullets
not just a bullet.
He looked down at it. It looked like a bullet, but
once a spell had settled it tended to vanish from any
visual spectrum. Youve magicked it. The magics
Elsewhere-born, too, so a spelled bullet will touch them,
just like one of the classic magic weapons.
Gold star for you, said Laney. She put out her
hand and Grey handed it back. About to stick it in her
pistol, she paused, rolling it between her fingers. A blush
turned her dark cheeks darker. Actually, this one seems
to be a dud, she said, and slipped it into her pouch for
non-spelled bullets. But you get the idea.

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Grey saluted cheerily. Yes, maam.

Jack. Rupert tossed him a sheathed short sword
from his bag.
You get into the armory alright? Jack said.
Its easy when you have the keys, Rupert said.
Jack unsheathed the sword, looked down its
length, then resheathed it, tying it to his belt. You
snatched this one for me during that gremlin infestation
last month, he said.
Rupert wrestled a small shield out of the bag and
handed that to the redhead, too. He shrugged. You
seemed to like the heft of it better.
Aw, you noticed.
When Im relying on you keeping Things from
chewing on my spleen I pay attention. Rupert had his
own sword already sheathed on his belt. All set?
Ill just lurk over here, said Grey, edging toward
the brick wall of an apothecary.
Jack tugged on his shoulder and positioned him in
a narrow alley, a little more out of sight. Well be back,
he said.
Sure, said Grey, eyeing the hero and the mage
behind him.
I dont think I quite like his attitude, Rupert
murmured to Jack as they crossed the street. A little
disheartening.
Dont worry, Rupe. I dont think hes planning
on ousting you from your position of chief buzz-kill, said
Jack. Ready?
Rupert eyed the door, a sword in one hand and a
black cosh in the other. Both would have been
glimmering gold in the eyes of the select few who could
see magic with their waking eyes.
Laney looped a string around the fingers of her
left hand, thumb posed to loosen the knots, and drew a

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pistol with her right. She nodded. Jack yanked open the
door with his shield arm.
The first Thing rose up, more than seven feet of
tightly twisted shadow. This one had four legs and the
arms that tangled above were too many to count.
The Things in the Darkness were creatures of their
name: their forms were as various as nightmares, but
always dark and always dangerous. The clawed feet of
this monster edged towards solid in a way that meant
theyd let this nest brew for too long.
Jack shoved his shield up and forward, slashed at
the legs of it with his short sword; he heard Laneys pistol
fire ring out sharp and acrid behind him. Gold fire
bloomed in the Things chest and it scattered into twists
of fading shadow.
There was a roar. There was a clash of claw and
steel, shield and darkness. They charged in against a tide
of shadow.
The streets of Rivertown had eyes.
Thats a lie.
In reality, the streets were made of packed dirt and
discarded refuse, defined by the lopsided slate-roofed
buildings and flotsam lean-tos which grew up in crisscrossing rows year by year. The streets were not sentient.
They did not have eyes.
But there were eyes on street corners. There were
eyes in the half-shuttered windows. There were whispers.
There was a pair of grey eyes in an alleyway where a sage
watched the grimy windows of a house for the flare of
Elsewhere gold within.
There were other eyes, too, that night, eyes which
belonged to other allegiances. The whispers carried.
When three Academy students stumbled out of the cursed
riverside house, bruised and victorious, the whispers had

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reached ears beyond the little riverside neighborhood and

the little cursed house.
They were waiting.
Hammersfeld, said a voice as they poured out
onto the street in a flood of adrenaline and relief. Five
men were waiting for them; Rupert nodded to the speaker,
in front.
Hello, Bartholomew.
If youre going to call Rupert by one of his last
names, added Jack, why not Jons? Its shorter.
(In the shadows, Grey was coming up with
eighteen synonyms for idiotic. He was going to need
them, when he got Jack back in ear shot, in order to
explain the kind of person who got involved with the five
men who stood a careful thirty paces from the cursed
houses door. They were well dressed, for this
neighborhood and its unpaved streets, with weapons
tucked only barely out of sight. One of them was flicking
a gold spark through his fingers like a non-mage might
flick a coin.
The five men stood with a set of the shoulders any
local could tell you meant Shore Knight. Grey read them
as either the gang or the local militia force, depending on
who you asked to define them. He had a feeling Jack read
that cocky set of the shoulders as bullies; Grey quickly
changed his estimate of which percentage of Jacks
mysterious post-town-excursion wounds had come from
shadows and monsters and which from mortal men.
Grey got to asinine and kept going).
Long words dont give me panic attacks,
forester, Bartholomew said.
Jack grinned at him. Very nice, he said. How
about Seventh, then? A little more descriptive than
Hammersfeld.

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Rupert had his eyes on the four men flanking

Bartholomew. So did Jack, for all that he was acting the
grinning fool. They wore dark suits of various cuts, a hat
on each of their headssome of them obviously thought
they were quite dapper with narrow top hats and jaunty
news caps. Bartholomews was an old bowler, black, only
there to quietly state his allegiances.
There was the strained line of a pistol under each
of their suit jackets. One had brass knuckles jammed in
his pockets, distorting the fabric.
Boss told me to run on down and tell you three to
shove off, said Bartholomew.
We can do that, said Rupert. We didnt mean
to intrude on Shore Knight territory.
Didnt mean to intrude? said one of the men
behind Bartholomew. Everyone knows this is our part of
town, even Academy squeaks.
Rupert smiled faintly. Were just heading out
now, he said. Excuse us, will you?
Youve been stumbling into our territory and
flashing your weaponry a lot, said one, taking one brassknuckled hand out of his pocket. Eight times in the last
three months.
Only eight times that you heard about us, said
Laney sweetly, and got a glare from Rupert.
Were still getting our bearings, Knuckles, said
Jack. Trust me when I say the guide in this group is no
good at directions.
I dont think youre going to learn until youve
been taught a lesson, said Knuckles (after tonight his
name within Rivertown would be Knuckles until he
earned another one through a feat of greater fame, or
greater embarrassmentthese two impetuses tend to be
the ones that make nicknames stick).
Knuckles reached out and yanked Laney away
from the group.

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Jack surged forward, but two of the men blocked

his way. Bart didnt move, something crossing his face
which could be identified by those in the know as a kind
of wearied, wry amusement, the sort of look that belongs
on the face of a man who sees the water bucket wedged
over the door right before it drops.
Knuckles yanked on Laneys arm and said, Lets
explain to your boys what happens to intruders and
Laney dropped a hand to her wrist and unraveled a glaring
handful of fire.
The one man who had stayed behind Bart flicked a
hand and, with a rush, the magic ripped away from
Laneys hands to swirl around his. Slippery fingers? the
Knights mage said smugly, bundling the gold fire up in
long fingers and letting it sputter out.
No, just thieves with sticky ones, she snapped at
him with empty hands while Knuckles grinned at his
partner.
The grip tightened on Laneys arm as her captor
turned to Rupert. The Knights mage flicked the
remaining sparks from his fingers, ready to snatch power
out of her hands again if the pretty little mage tried
anything.
Then Knuckles stiffened as cold metal pressed up
behind the ridge of his jaw bone; Laney smiled, the butt
of her cocked pistol familiar in her hand.
The Knights mage threw out a whip of grasping
fire but it slid off the pistols metal easily, sparking off
Laneys old protection spells. Clumsy, Laney told him,
turning to put his friend between them in order to keep an
eye on both her captive and his fellow Knights. She
slipped her free hand inside his jacket and dropped both
the mans pistol and a knife on the dirt, kicking them
away.
Bartholomew sighed and Jack wondered if that
was where Rupert had learned it, or if Bart had learned it

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from Rupert. Deepest apologies, Miss Jones, Bart said.

Hed heard of her, though this was their first meeting.
Theyre new.
I figured, she said. Do you want to keep this
one?
Bart said, He shows vague promise, while
Knuckles sweated. Would you mind?
As a favor for you, she said. Teach him not to
grab pretty girls in dark streets, will you? She flicked the
safety up on her pistol and nudged Knuckles back toward
Bartholomew.
When he was close enough, Bart rapped him on
the side of the head. Go grab your weapons, Knuckles,
he said, and there the nickname was clinched, in
embarrassment not fame, the poor soul. Bart turned to the
rest of the Knights (two of them dropped Jacks arms
quickly). Do you all have ears? he said. Good. Brains?
Anyone remember what our orders were?
The mage was surreptitiously scrubbing any stray
sparks of Laneys off his hands as though hoping Bart
would forget Knuckles had had help.
No? It was: Tell them to shove off, said Bart.
Rupert?
Yes, Bartholomew?
Shove off.
Yes, sir, said Rupert. Cmon, lads, and Laney.
Bart was about to comment that, as tall as Jack
was, he didnt quite count as more than one lad, when
Grey popped out of the alley, bristling and wide-eyed.
Youre crazy, he hissed to Jack when he got closer.
Bart laughed. A sage now, too, Hammersfeld? So
thats how you got the curse off.
Consulting sage, said Grey with a sniff.
Well, you shove off too, said Bart amiably. He
cast an unimpressed eye over his Knights. As the four
apprentice adventurers walked away, they could hear him

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beginning in an authoritative rumble, Were not here to

add more chaos to this town. We hold our borders, and we
protect our people
What was that? demanded Grey.
A lot of the city downriver from the swine
bridge is theirs, said Rupert. Most of the dock areas
especially, though theyre growing a bit more toward dry
land lately. They dont like armed intruders, especially
not Academy kids. We compete.
What do you mean theirs? said Grey.
Theyre a group of armed thugs, said Rupert
casually. But they kill monsters, and no one down here
can afford the guards that theyve got upriver.
And when they cant kill the monsters began
Grey.
Or when theyre doing it wrong, said Laney
primly.
then you come in, and kill them, and then they
chase you off toothlessly?
Barts the only one who does it toothlessly, said
Rupert. Bartholomews an old friend. He knows Im not
trying to put downstream Rivertown under Bureau
protection. He and Sez and I grew up together.
Theyve been hunting monsters for a long time,
said Jack, a little wistfully. But then Bart turned Knight
and Rupert turned Academy stooge.
Thanks, Farris, Rupert said. Jack and Laney,
he added, then invaded Sez and my careful monsterslayage system, as you may have noticed, and Ive yet to
be able to convince them to leave.
Competition, you said, between the Knights and
the Bureau. Grey eyed the Headsmasters nephew. You
think Academy-trained Leagues fill a similar niche to the
Knightly groups of armed thugs?
The Leagues are armed thugs, said Jack
cheerfully, and Rupert didnt contradict him.

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Theres no government down here, said Rupert.

They dont have anyone to fight for them. The Knights
arent perfect, but, he shrugged. I dont like seeing
people eaten alive by rogue mer-goblins either.
None? said Grey.
Jack glanced at him, as wide-eyed as Grey had
been seeing men with guns tucked into their belts walk
down the street. Was that a question mark? Grey, is this
something else you dont know about?
They dont write books on Rivertown, said Grey
defensively. I mean, I can tell you about a famous
cavalry battle on Beacon Hill eight hundred years ago,
and recite every royal generation that resided in the
summer palace where the Academy is now, and talk about
the rock formations in the riverbed, and what kind of flora
and fauna they predict predominated here a millennia
ago
But you cant tell us what sausage shop operates
on top of Beacon Hill today, though, can you? said
Laney. Well, thats interesting.
I dont like sausage, said Grey. Can we get
back to my question mark?
Theres no government down here, said Rupert.
This citys not even supposed to be here, but thats how
cities go, I suppose. A long time ago, this was just some
kings summer estate. But then nobles made their estates
upriver, where the wealthy districts are now. Have you
been up there?
Grey shook his head.
Six bookstores within walking distance, Jack
explained. He doesnt really have any need to go any
farther than that.
Well, thoseve got paved streets, armed guards
and empty shadows, said Rupert. But other people
started settling here, too, that long time ago. They cleaned
the kings stables and the bedrooms, cooked the food,

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nannied the children, guarded the houses, mopped the

floors, manned the docks and unloaded the ships. This
used to be a big luxury port, but now its the townsfolk
who feed that industry. Rupert ran a thumb over split
knuckles, feeling bruises start to rally as adrenalin faded.
They watched the kings fall, and kept cooking and
cleaning and building for the merchants and landowners
who moved into the big houses when the nobility dried up
too. Then the factories came, and the town exploded
again. You know those shantytowns, near the city limits?
You had to have passed them, coming in.
I wasnt looking. Grey shrugged. I hitched a
ride, and read in the back of the truck with his hay.
You can miss a lot that way, said Rupert.
Im fluent in ancient Greskian now though, said
Grey. I consider it a decent trade.
Every street downriver from Gemscutter Lane
grew out of something like that, a makeshift path between
homes that were built of broken wagons and misplaced
bricks and driftwood. Rupert shrugged slightly and went
on, A town grew up along the river, but a government
never did. No police, not like the big seaside cities have.
The Knights were a minor gang until they stumbled
across a good mage and started killing monsters, for a
tithe.
Do you want to write a book? said Grey. It
sounds like there should be books on this.
Rupert eyed him gravely. Im a little busy.
So Ruperts some sort of squishy-heart native,
but how did you and Laney get crazy enough to volunteer
to get wrapped up in this?
Jack shrugged. A year and a bit into the guide
major, and they wouldnt let me touch an edged weapon
except to learn how to clean it.
They dont let me touch weapons at all, said
Laney. I didnt leave the desert to get stuck somewhere

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else people would try to teach me manners and tell me I

cant do things.
Your hands are weapons, Jack told her and she
grinned so wide Grey could imagine the sparks. He added
to Grey, I didnt want to get out of practice.
You been monster slaying long, then, Jack? said
Grey.
Jack blushed, shrugged. There are Things in the
Darkness in the Forest, too, he said. But we call them
Shadows there. Ive spent a lot of time with a heartwood
staff with a pointy bit on the end.
Grey looked at him wearily. So you've always
been crazy, then.
They headed to Ruperts serviceable single room
and tended wounds while they picked apart the tactics of
the night. Rupert said with uncommon sheepishness,
This is studying, right?
Laneys wrist was twisted, but not sprained. They
wrapped it in cold compresses. Rupert had a gouge in his
thigh; he paled a bit, thinking of the laps hed have to run
in the morning. They cleaned and bound it with the
medical supplies Jack fetched from his room.
This will numb it, said Jack. Change the
binding in the morning, and Id say beg some willowbark
tea of Nurse too to numb it a little more.
At this point they only went to Nurse for stitching
up if there was a broken bone or wounds more tricky than
a painful but unimportant slash in Ruperts thigh. Jack
had a deep slash on one arm; after they cleaned it, Laney
stitched it up with precise movements and a heated
needle. Jack winced and cursed good-naturedly, trying to
talk about Rupert's flanking technique between ow, ow,
ows. They all had bruises and shallower cuts which
were already beginning to scab over. One Thing had
gotten a semi-solid tentacle around Jacks ankle and
slammed him into a wall; his entire back was aching and

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by morning would be blooming with purpling bruises, til

they faded to green and yellow blotches in a week.
Other than a singed eyebrow, Grey was
untouched. He had followed them up to Ruperts room
without thinking too much about it, and now sat with his
back to the corner, paging through the latter sections of
his Materials book. He fell asleep over it eventually as the
trio applied bruise balm and drunk tea to numb the aches.
They talked through Laney and Jacks switching of roles
as distraction and close-range weapon, the growing
possessiveness of the Shore Knights, and the challenges
of close-quarters combat in confined spaces.
There was a sharp knock at Ruperts doorGrey
continued his warbling snore in the corner. Rupert opened
the door while Jack finished up a dressing on the back of
Laneys left hand. Uncle, said Rupert, his voice going
polite in a way Jack and Laney had learned meant worry.
Rupert had the door open only slightly and tried to edge
out to the hallway.
Rupert, theres been a mess-up with the
gameskeepers expenses and I was thinking youd know
where the requisition papers hed filed had gotten to
The Headsmaster got a solid glance through the door
partway through his question. His face hardened; his
voice became a harsh whisper. Rupert, you havent
you havent started this up again, have you?
We were studying, said Rupert. Theyre in my
group for Great Feats class.
Dont lie to me. Do you know what it will look
like, if youre found gallivanting around downriver,
breaking Bureau law?
I have an idea or two, said Rupert. Uncle, Im
sorry. We just
The Headsmaster cast another glance around the
room. And with noncombatants, too? Troublemakers like
Farris here

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Thank you, sir, said Jack brightly.

Rupert, come with me. We need to have a talk,
said Heads, turning and striding down the hall. His
footsteps slapped on wood.
We can let ourselves out, Rupe, said Laney.
Hes not the boss of you, added Jack.
Yeah, Jack, he kinda is. Rupert grabbed his
Academy jacket, discarded by the front door, and headed
after his uncle.
The door shut quietly behind him. Grey peeked
open an eye. Have all the scary authority figures left
yet?
I dont like that at all, said Laney.
Heads? Yeah, hes a bit of a shouty stick-in-themud, isnt he? Had me and Leaf in there awhile back to
talk about all the bruises we get
No, said Laney. The look on Ruperts face.
Heads can yell all he likes, I dont care. But Rupert does.
I dont like it.
Really? I thought youd get it, said Jack.
She gave him a sharp look.
Jack shrugged. You seem to care a lot about what
people think about you, said Jack. You put a lot of
effort into being what they expect.
Hm, said Laney. She looked away from him, at
the closed door. I can see why you might be confused.
You dont care what people think about you?
Theres a big difference between me and
Rupert. She smiled tightly. I seem perfect because I
know its a way to get what I want, and he tries to be the
perfect nephew and hero because he thinks they deserve
that from him.
Jack blinked. Laney shrugged.
He thinks hes letting them down by being
human, she said. And Im screwing with them by

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giving them what they want and then doing exactly

whatever I want. Think about it.
Huh, said Jack. He finished the last wrap of
bandage around her hand and sat back.
I dont like the look on his face, said Laney,
standing. Im going to go do something about it.
Shoot Heads in the foot? Grey asked warily.
Thatd hardly be useful in the long run, said
Laney, packing up her bag. The dark braid coiled around
her head had lost a few strands in the fight in the house.
One long black frizz curled down over her cheekbone.
No. Im going to give Rupert someone to talk to, when
his uncle is done lecturing, who isnt dripping with
disappointed expectations.
She shut the door behind her. Jack and Grey
glanced at each other, then cleaned up the medical refuse.
They were gone by the time Rupert got back to his empty
room, carrying both the sting of his uncles words and the
warmth of Laneys hand on his elbow.
Jack still had homework to do. Grey curled up
with a book on his bunkit was always hard to tell if he
was doing actual homework or just existing.
I know eight kinds of medical stitches now, said
Jack a few hours later, thumping the strands of leather and
string that were his homework onto his cluttered desk.
Herbs and roots warred with his daggers sharpening
stone. Who knows eight kinds of medical stitches?
I do, said Grey. Not how to do them, exactly,
but Ive read about them.
This is Jack made an aggrieved noise. I
could be doing something, Grey. Do you know what I
could have done in the last two hours? He rubbed his
forehead. Its justcoming back from fighting monsters
and facing down Knights, to this? Its whiplash.

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Theres always going to be someone else to save,

Jack, said Grey, staring down at a book he wasnt
reading.
I know, said Jack.
(The fact they agreed on; at the conclusion they
differed. Grey thought this meant you couldnt save them
all. Jack thought this meant you had to try).
That night, the familiar lullaby of adrenaline and
the metallic tang of drawn steel lingered in Jacks chest.
Jack dreamed of gold at the hearts of shadows, shadows
in the hearts of golden-haired girls.

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Chapter Nine. Other People.

Other people didnt call the shanties part of
Rivertown. The old stone was the town center, and
everywhere else just wasnt the same. Those who lived in
them werent real to some, werent people who needed
saving.
Everyone Jack ever saw was a person hed like to
save.
Rupert called them people, too, called the
shantytown part of the town, because it wasnt rational or
practical to consider one stranger worth saving and
another not. When it got personal was when it got
complicated.
Rupert had always been the responsible one, even
with the adults in his life. He followed rules better than
his mother and saw a bigger picture than his uncle.
When he said the word hero he didnt quite
know what it meant, except that it allowed for very little
sleep and a lot of bruises, so he didnt say it. Instead, he
said, I can do this, so I will, or rather when Sez first
started talking about unchallenged monsters in the
shadows, Rupert had said, Which shadows?
They started out young.
Fourteen, and he could hit a target fifteen paces
away.

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Fourteen, and Sez was already listening to

whispers, watering them with harmless smiles, a kind ear,
a favor. She was already cataloguing them in the chaotic
patterns of a depthless mind and leaving notes for herself
in knotted string and notches on her walls.
Fifteen, and Rupert could send a knife through a
light circle of willow twigs dancing on the end of a string
without nicking the sides. Sixteen, and Sez held court in
the market, juggling burning torches while people slipped
coins and folded notes in her upturned cap.
Rupert had tried to teach her to read, once, three
times, but it had never stuck. Sez could puzzle through
street signs, but preferred just to memorize the town. She
could construct files as detailed as Ruperts careful stacks
on Academy students, faculty, and finances, but with her
hands twisted in her braids and cords and thread.
She could name every major social lynch pin of
the town, half of whom would come running if she
whistled, and a few more who wouldnt come running,
but who would later slip in the back door.
Sez couldnt write letters when she needed to, but
she had a careful handful of people in her pocket who
could and who trusted her or owed her or loved her
enough never to breathe a word of what she dictated. She
had to find friends on street corners to read her the days
newspaper.
Sez thought this meant she was stupid. Everyone
else knew better.

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Chapter Ten. Just Dont Get Caught.

Jack scaled down the outside of the tactics lecture
hall, not pausing to take in the view of the glorified and
scarred old Academy buildings and the low, sleek slate
rooftops of Rivertown that spread out around them for
miles. He dropped to the ground beside the building,
brushing rafter dust from his hands.
A young man with a quietly exasperated
expression came around the edge of the building. Youre
going to get caught one of these days, Farris, said
Rupert, pushing a bundle of cloth at the redhead. You do
want a badge, right?
I do, I justI want to learn more than I want the
diploma. A tactical education at the Academy Jack
began.
I know, Rupert said, and shrugged. I didnt tell
you to stop. Rupert moved on, rounding the edge of the
building to catch up with the rest of his class. Jack looked
down at the bundle in his handstwo thick-palmed
fingerless gloves, a set of shoulder pads, and a thick bar
of oats, honey, and dried fruit.
Jack muttered, I only somewhat forgot about
lunch. He tucked the rest of it under one arm and headed
to Nurses. After, he made his way to class to meet up
with the rest of the fellow members of his major. He
wasnt sure exactly what purpose the pads and gloves had,
but if Rupert was handing them over, they had purposes.

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(For Outdoor Education that day the guides hauled

rock-filled packs across the grounds, and then took a
break to scale the ropes hanging from the largest tree on
campus; Jack, his palms, and his shoulders were all very
thankful).
That day, when Red met with Leaf, Weeds and
Jack in the barn, Clark was waiting. A tall, brown sage
Jack had met a few times with Grey, Clark scrambled to
his feet when they entered and stammered an explanation.
Of course you can stay and learn, too, said Leaf
with cheery certainty.
Red, who was taller, bulkier, and substantially
darker skinned than the narrow-faced Rupert, nonetheless
managed for a brief moment to achieve one of Ruperts
patented looks of extreme exhausted resignation as he
looked around as his growing unofficial class.
At the next meeting, Gloria, Laneys exuberant
sage roommate, showed up. She had blond braided
pigtails and a head held high. If you can teach them, you
can teach me, Gloria said. Just because Im smarter
than everyone else in a room, doesnt mean I have to be
weaker.
Next, Heather, one of only three female guides
since the formation of the Academy (her admittance had
something to do with the research paper shed sent along
with her applicationsomething about pea plants),
tagged along with Gloria. Heather was taciturn to the
point of muteness. Gloria beamed and chatted for the both
of them, her long straight braids bouncing behind her.
Jack brought it up one night, when he, Laney, and
Rupert were out hunting a poltergeist in an old town
house (the owners were friends of Sez). Laney started
showing up regularly to practice hand-to-hand; Rupert
dropped by less frequently, but his quiet sturdy patience
and years of training made him a useful additional
teacher.

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It turned out that Gloria, the daughter of a wealthy

landlord far on Rivertowns outskirts, hunted with her
father. She and Laney took the whole gang out onto the
grounds on a few late nights and taught them the basics of
gun safety and marksmanship.
The next time a combat spec tried to take Clarks
lunch money, he ended up in Nurses care with a broken
nose and bruised ribs. Clark ended up there, too, with a
broken left wristbut when he joined the stable loft study
group in the mess hall at lunch, Leaf got out his pens and
they all happily signed the cast.
Weeds threw Red halfway across the stable loft at
practice the next day, so later the whole group packed up
and headed down to Sallys to celebrate. It was late, the
room smoky.
A few troops of younger townsmen were clustered
at the back tables, shouting rhythmic shanties and
stamping their feet. The townsmen knew Weeds, who was
a local, and dragged him into their midst. Leaf followed
with high cheer and shouted along with inaccurate lyrics
but audible enthusiasm.
Rupert went to chat with Sally-Anne while Laney
and Gloria found a retired huntsman in a corner booth and
fell into a rapid-fire technical discussion of gun
construction and marksmanship. Eventually Laney got
stolen away by Sally-Anne, who had some ideas for
wards that might discourage men with guns and stolen
magic from interrupting business. They went off into
Sally-Annes accounting office, Laney trying to hide the
skip in her step and wearing her best Professional Mage
expression.
Red leaned back in his seat, propping his boots up
on the opposite chair. He and Jack were the only ones
who remained at the table. When youre in a room, you
dont turn your back on anyone, do you, Farris? Its not

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just combat specs and people with a tendency to hit you

from behind.
Jack gave his best grin, a little brittle. Six
brothers, six uncles, a raucous ruckus of cousins
That excuse isnt going to hold for forever, you
know. A boisterous family only explains so much.
Jack spun his mug, looking at it and not Red. Oh,
and you learned all that swordwork battling nets of tuna,
then, first-year?
Red opened his mouth, closed it, then nodded.
Alright, he said.
Across the shop, Leaf was teaching the town boys
one of his made-up stanzas. By the end of the night, he
was standing on tabletops and conducting the whole
room. The wrinkled little lady in the back corner had a
surprisingly powerful belt for someone who brought her
own teacups. The stable loft study group walked home in
the lamp-lit dark, arms around each others shoulders,
warmth running through their veins.
Rhones next tactics test had its normal series of
scenarios, but several this time included mystical
elements: not just the human tactical advantage of mages,
but a cursed well, an Elsewhere storm mid-battle, and a
riddling sphinx stalking the environs. Jack perched on the
chair opposite professor Rhoness desk later, feeling
gawky and too large for the cushion, to discuss his scores.
Youve got to be prepared, said the little old
man, waggling a finger. Youve got to be prepared for
riddles.
Jack adjusted his feet. Im from sphinx country,
he said. Ive been on walkabouts. I know.
Rhones sucked on his lip and harrumphed. Most
boys round here are city folk looking for something other
than factory or street work, he said, or noble kids
lookin for excitement. We dont get much country folk.
You dont let much country folk in, he said.

145

We dont, said Rhones, and somewhere between

parsing his idealistic grumble and his jaded hum, Jack felt
an impressed pride in Rhones that the professor hadnt
snapped directly to defensive.
There was an Equines paper and an Edibles paper
both due the next day, so Jack finally tore himself away
from the sketches of old battles Rhones was drawing on
the backs of old homeworks.
Back at their room, Grey barely greeted him; he
had a book open but was staring over the top of it out the
open window. Jack decided that Bartiznokosh, or one of
the other sage professors, must have said something
particularly interesting in lecture.
Jack pulled himself up into the upper bunk.
Neither of them had much use for their desks. Jack used
his to dry herbs he found around the grounds. Grey used
his as a bookshelf.
When Jack was a half an essay into his homework,
Grey sighed. The boy rummaged through his papers,
capped his pen, and then rolled out of the bed to his feet.
While he slipped on his shoes, Grey added, Up and at
em, Squirrel.
Jack considered his Equines reading gravely for a
moment, then climbed down from the upper bunk. We
going somewhere?
Dont forget your shoesoh, wait, nevermind,
youve developed enough callus to make shoes irrelevant,
you backwoods barbarian.
Youre just jealous of my callus. You know its
true.
Im surprised its not sentient at this point. I bet it
is sentient. I bet thats why you never try to get rid of it.
Its got a soul now.
They ducked down the narrow dorm steps (well,
Jack ducked) and headed for the main gate. Laney hasnt

146

mentioned Transport since that first study session, said

Grey.
Yeah?
I couldve helped! Grey shrugged grumpily.
Theres not that much I can help with, as youre all
mostly obsessed with hitting things with blunt or not-soblunt objects. But she left, didnt even try the things I
suggested.
Grey eyed the front of a fledgling lamp shop,
which smelled like something might be burning inside.
Jack hoped the smell was from the farriers across the
street and that whatever was on fire was on fire on
purpose.
I think if shed tried it, shed have managed
something, or at least gotten some empirical data on what
doesnt work for her.
You wanted empirical data for you, not her, said
Jack. I dont think she likes doing things poorly in front
of people.
Why do you think that? said Grey. I fall on my
face all the time.
Because Ive never seen her do anything poorly,
said Jack. And when you fall on your face, Grey, you
still know more than anyone else in the room.
So its not a perfect analogy.
They crossed the bridge by the pig district quickly,
the river rushing on below with a quiet insistence. One of
the boatmen watched them, the redheaded giant and the
tiny dark-haired boy who was twitching a little in thought,
and Jack wondered what fairytale was being brought to
mind.
Were going to that cursed house we cleared, last
week, Jack said, when theyd turned too many obvious
corners in its direction.
Grey shrugged.
Why? said Jack.

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Grey plucked the precisely folded broadside out of

his pocket, the yellow wax of the sketched curse sigil
peeking out when he unfolded it.
You broke it, though, said Jack, who was used
to alternatively fishing for scant information from a
taciturn little roommate and being drowned in
unnecessary facts about electric light-bulb manufacturing.
Why do we need to come back? Their destination
loomed around the corner, sagging and ramshackle in the
fading daylight.
Grey shrugged again and Jack followed him. Its
not the sigil youre after, because thats broken. Its the
drawing of it, Jack said. He looked at the back of his
roommates head. You want to know who could draw
something that had faded from sight. You said no one
could see it, if it was drawn in magic, so it couldnt be
drawn in magicbut it was. And whoever tipped off Sez
would have probably been someone who lives near here.
Grey stood in the street in front of the previouslyinvested house and shrugged without turning around. He
looked left. He looked right. Grey said, Lets try that
tenement. Come along, Farris.
The air inside spoke of human life crammed into
close quarters. Jack scuffed his feet on scraped-thin carpet
while Grey knocked on door after door.
Hello, the sage said to a matronly woman in a
flour-dusted apron. A makeshift oven was vented out the
narrow window. It radiated heat out of the doorway. Grey
glanced inside while she tried out an unsure, Hello?
Just being a friendly neighbor, have a lovely
day, Grey said, pulling his nose back out of the room,
and shut the door on her.
Oh, hi there, do you have kids? he said to a
thick-bearded man who appeared to have been woken by
Greys stubborn two minutes of knocking. Because
weve got a discounted babysitting service you might

148

The man shut the door. They heard the lock rattle into
place.
What are you looking for? said Jack.
Ill know when I see it, he said.
On the second floor, a woman with black hair
pulled back into a messy bun opened the door, wiping her
hands on her skirt. Yes? she said, her accent rolling like
rocks down a hillside. Grey glanced at the four corners of
the room and grinned.
Can we come in? Thanks, said Grey, dragging
Jack over the door jam and shutting it behind them.
Excuse me, the woman said, backing away. My
husband will be home any minute and he knows how to
handle ruffiansElaine, get in the corner, under the
covers, good girl A small girl with brown braids
buried herself in the pile of faded yellow blankets. The
shaky ochre drawings pinned haphazardly above it
suggested was her bed.
Jack was pulling on the back of Greys shirt, and
trying to look as small and non-menacing as a towering
redheaded barbarian could. Im very sorry maam, we
dont mean any harm, hes got an allergy to manners, he
doesnt mean it really
Grey flapped his hand at Jack and pulled the sigilmarked newspaper scrap out of his pocket. You need to
be more careful, said Grey, thrusting it at her.
The woman closed her mouth, staring at the paper
flapping in his hand. Grey shook it a little harder and she
reached out, taking it from him and holding it in both
hands. The woman stared down at it, going very still.
How did you get this?
You gave it away, said Grey. And, okay,
maybe you trust Miss Purple Eyelashes? But do you
really think you should trust everybody Sez trusts, and
everybody those everybodies trust? Because thats stupid,

149

and sure youre welcome to be stupid with your own life,

lady, but youve got a kid to think of.
Her head snapped up. I dont know what youre
talking about.
Obviously you do, said Grey, rolling his eyes.
And obviously I do.
Um, obviously I dont? said Jack, though he had
suspicions cementing in his stomach with the weight of
old familiar practice. Again, maam, sorry for the
intrusion. Im not really sure whats going on, but
normally he has reasons. Sometimes theyre good ones.
The woman ignored him, eyes on the shorter boy.
Who else knows? she said.
Just me, said Grey. But if I can figure it out
from a glimpse at this paper, other people can, too. And if
I can find you, so can they.
The woman was much paler than she had been
earlier, when she had just thought two violent street
urchins had broken into her apartment with ill intent.
What gave it away? she said.
Grey shrugged, gesturing at the yellow-wax sketch
in her hand. Theres only one kind of person who can see
magic once its set, he said. Mages can feel that a sigils
there, sure, but no mage could draw something that
detailed using nothing but a blank door.
We could have watched their magician draw it,
she said. Scrawled it down before it faded. Its a simpler
explanation. There are very few mages in this world, and
there are a lot more mages than seers.
Jacks eyes widened.
Greys attention strayed to the ochre corner, where
the womans daughter had pulled the covers back down
from her head and was watching them with wide brown
eyes. Your favorite colors yellow, isnt it? he said.
Grey gave a sideways smile, friendly and harmless. Elaine
picked up her braids and hid her eyes behind them. Gold,

150

then? Its a good color, he said, and she peeked over the
top of the braid and gave him a tiny smile. Grey looked
back up at her mother and said, Its how they see the
world, the bits that matter anyway. Bet shes particular
about what crayons you get.
She mixes paints for hours, the woman said
softly.
It was too much of a coincidence. That color.
Maybe you could have drawn it before it fadedexcept
these lines shake with painstaking time. That, and that
they were done in such a careful yellow. Too many odd
things in one place, for a seer not to be involved. Grey
reached out, folding the paper in her hands and pushing it
toward her. Be careful with her, he said.
You went through a lot of trouble to find us.
Whats your story, boy? she said.
Im called Grey, he said. Im a very long story.
This is Jack Farris. Hes the one whos friends with the
purple lady and who kicked those monsters out of your
neighborhood.
It was a useful tip, said Jack. Greys right
about being careful, but your daughter probably saved our
lives. Thank you.
Just rewrite it in black ink next time, the woman
said wryly. Though even without the color to give it
away as a vision, someone might still
Or just look us up, said Grey. Im a sage at the
Academy, Jacks a guide. Sez knows how to find us.
How do I know I can trust you? she said,
smiling.
You dont, said Grey. You probably
shouldnt, he said, and her smile faltered a little.
Oh dont let him scare you, said Jack. I dont
think Grey trusts anybody entirely.
Biased sources and miscopying. Grey shrugged.

151

Well, she said. Thank you, Grey, and thank

you, Jack. A frightening afternoon, but I think you meant
well.
Jack grinned. That sounds like the story of my
life, he said.
She started to fold up the newspaper scrap and
paused. Your names Jack? she said. She looked at him
and her eyes crinkled. A redheaded hero named Jack.
Ive heard a story like that.
Jack gave his best harmless half-grin. Well, Im
not much of one, maam, and Im a guide anyway. Youre
probably thinking of someone else. Ive got one of those
names.
Hm, she said. Well, probably, then. It was
informative to meet the both of you, boys. Elaine, you
want to come say good-bye?
The girl pushed out of the blankets and scrambled
over, coming to a quick halt just behind her mothers
skirts. Bye, she said in a fast whisper.
As the door closed behind them, they heard Elaine
say, I need more paint, mum. Did you see that?
They thumped down the stairs and out onto the
street, Grey with his hands jammed in his pockets and his
head down.
How do you know about seers? said Jack.
Dont you ever get tired of asking that? It should
be obvious at this point, said Grey. I read. I know
everything.
Not everything, said Jack.
Well, said Grey. Im working on it. He kicked
a loose pebble, watching it spark clouds of dust as it
bounced. Do you need any of that explained to you?
Kids a seer. Jack said it quietly.
Grey shrugged. Yeah, obviously. Do you know
why it matters?

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Jack looked over at the small young man walking

next to him, thinking about how when Grey was stressed
his accent rolled as heavily as the womans had. Grey had
never been much for sharing any stories other than the
ones from inside pages, but Jack hadnt really noticed that
lapse until now. How about you tell me?
Grey threw his head back, squinting upward, then
shrugged and looked at his feet again. Therere folk in
the mountains who think theyre usefulthe seers, the
mages, even the sensitives sometimessensitives just a
polite word for mages without much juice, anyway. The
people who can touch the Elsewhere and the people who
can see it.
And that would be why they left the mountains,
Elaine and her mom? said Jack.
Grey looked at him. Wasnt sure youd catch
that.
The womans accent screamed high altitudes and
rocky valleys, Jack said. So, you think they ran from
there?
You think they didnt? They obviously didnt
come down here for anything else. One room apartment,
and at least two kids that I could see a sign of. Everything
ornamental lost or sold. But, well, Grey shrugged.
There are folk in the mountains, too, who help people
like that get out. Probably how they got here.
And there are folk who still come down here
looking for useful refugees? said Jack. Thats why you
wanted to find the kid who drew our sigil, to tell their
family they had to be more careful.
Mountains have a long arm, said Grey,
something stiff in the set of his shoulders. They need to
keep quiet.
Jack watched him carefully. Seers are rare. You
think the slavers would have been familiar enough with
them to know that for a seers work when they saw it?

153

Oh, said Grey, and laughed, a bitter little sound.

Yes. Yes, definitely. He kicked at another pebble,
adding a skip to his step, and said with all his normal
rapid cheer, Cmon, Squirrel. Theres a sale at
Gutenbergs and Ive an eye on a generals memoirs
A week later, Gloria, Weeds, and Heather came
into the stable talking about a hero and his sidekick who
had tried that morning to encourage Gloria to finish their
homework; shed swept his feet from under him. Weeds
and Heather had come upon them and encouraged the
pair to back off. Now, Gloria nudged Heather and sent the
taciturn girl giggling.
Jack and Red were already up in the loft, talking
over the lesson plan Heather keeps pulling her
punches; I think they could all use some more practice
falling. Leaf was down below, greeting every horse by
name while Laney sat on a stall wall and looked on
amusedly.
It had become clear that Red and his troop of
noncombatants were up to something. There were those
among the combat specs and heroeseven one junior
lecturer in fighting skillswho were affronted by this
change of Academy culture to the point of violence. They
kept an eye on the group and that afternoon they tracked
them to the stable loft meeting.
They were all still on the ground floor of the stable
when the blows started to fall, except for Red and Jack.
Cmon, squishy civilians, well show you what a
real specialist can do
Jack startled up from his discussion of blocks and
blows, moving toward the ladder.
No, wait, said Red, counting opponents. They
can do this. Theres a time when a teacher has to stand
back and let his students bleed for themselves.
But theyre

154

Theyre trained. There are more of us than there

are of the attackers. Have a little faith in them, and their
teachers.
Leaf ducked under a bullys wide swing, rammed
into his midriff, and tossed his opponent over his
shoulder. Jack took a half step back, staying in the
darkness, but stayed poised to jump into the fight if it
looked necessary. I really dont like this, Red.
Trust them. Heathers figured out how to put her
weight behind that left hook, he added with clinical
pride.
You werent just teaching your cousins about
fish, were you? said Jack. His eyes tracked Clark
shoving the junior lecturer to the ground. And probably
more than just your cousins.
Red kept his eyes on the fight below.
You talk like youve done this before, not just
teaching, but teaching this. There arent many fishermen
who know how to handle a sword that well; but youre
not lying about knowing boats. The only people I know
who need swords on ships are the Bureaus privateersor
the pirates.
There was a long silence, only punctuated by the
impact of flesh on flesh below and Jacks audible winces.
What do you know about pirates and privateers? said
Red.
Jack shrugged, wincing halfway through as he
watched Gloria slam a knee up between a distracted
combat specs legs. The Bureaus privateers are like seagoing Leagues, fighting monsters, providing relief. Pirates
arent official League mentheyre the mountain
vigilantes of the sea. Some of them are no better than
bandits, but some of them are trying to take up the work
the Bureau glosses over or misses.
Have you heard of the Dreads? Dread Pirate
Fitzwilliam, Dread Pirate Johnny

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Id heard there was a kind of vigilante armada,

said Jack. But I didnt quite believe it. Every story Ive
heard of other vigilantesSt. George the Dragon Slayer,
the Mad Hatter, Bloody Jon Bones, the Pied Piperit
seems like they work alone, or in small groups. But
theres no vigilante organization. The Bureaus the one
with structurecmon, Glor, you can get himdont
drop the guard on your left side
Its dangerous, going solo on land, said Red.
But you cant make it alone on the sea. Have you ever
seen a sea serpent?
Have you ever seen a dragon?
Fair enough. But on the sea, you need a crew. So
the coastal vigilantes are of a different breed than the
mountain rabble. There is annot quite an armada. But a
coalition. There are seven Dread ships. He paused,
smiling a little. Its a family business.
Family Jack stared. Its not your family, is
it? Then why are you here? said Jack. Wait
subverting the Bureau from the inside? AghClark needs
help, Im gonna
No, look, hes got him. Good right hook. Red
shook his head. Not subverting. But there is so much
good the Bureau could be doing. They were supposed to
be better than this. They were supposed to be what my
family is trying to be, but the Bureau has so many more
resources and powers than we do.
Youre going to take them over from the inside?
Im certainly going to try, said Red.
Huh. Jack leaned back, watching Laney land a
solid kick into a combat specs abdomen. Let me know if
I can help, he said.
Red smiled; even that looked a little like a scowl,
but Jack knew him better these days.
Their students swarmed up the ladder a few
minutes later, flush with victory and forming bruises.

156

They were in high spirits as Jack went to fetch Nurse for

the opponents and themselves; an hour later the summons
from the Headsmaster came for Leaf, Red, Jack, and
Rupert.
Rhones, somber, escorted them into Headss office
and left them there. Mr. Thorne sat quietly in the corner.
Thorne didnt acknowledge Jack, but Jack didnt
acknowledge him either.
The Headsmaster told them he was disappointed
about the damage to Academy equipment and personnel
which had occurred that afternoon. He told them their
antics were frivolous and harmful. He told them the
unofficial fighting practice sessions would have to stop.
They didnt take it all that well.
They didnt know how to fight and we were
teaching them, protested Leaf. We were learning.
For over a hundred years, this school has abided
by certain customs, Mr. Fenn
Leaf cut him off, young and certain. They need to
know. We need to be taught.
Thats not your job, said the Headsmaster.
No, sir. Its yours, said Jack.
Heads blinked.
Its your job to teach these students. Its your job
to keep peace at this school.
Jack stepped forward into the moment of silence
that followed that blow, meaning to press his advantage.
Heads was traditional, not stupidthere was a difference.
If he could just make him see
Ah, said Mr. Thorne from his quiet chair in the
corner. But the system is here for a reason. And this
extracurricular of yours, Mr. Farris, Mr. Uyeda, (Red
raised his chin), is disruptive to these students
education and to the greater good. Dont you think, Mr.
Hammersfeld?

157

Heads cleared his throat. Yes, yes, quite. As the

inspector says, this group is disruptive. It cannot be
allowed to continue.
You cant do that, said Leaf. Its our free
time.
You cant keep us from seeing each other, said
Jack.
You may see each other, of course, Mr. Farris,
but fighting is not allowed on this campus.
Its for the best, said Mr. Thorne. Now, I
believe you all have studies to get to?
Rupert, said Heads as the others left the room. It
was clear that only his nephew was meant to hear this, but
Jack had excellent ears. You need to take more care with
who you choose to befriend. Belligerents, farmers You
understand how this would look?
Yes, sir, said Rupert. He followed the others
out, sharing a glance with Jack. Across the hallway,
Laney leaned against a paneled wall. He met her eyes; his
smile was small, but there. I take very good care.
Laney crossed the hall, socked Jack in the
shoulder. I dont see why you two get dragged in for a
lecture and I dont. She squeezed Ruperts hand. I like
that look better.
Heads door opened behind them. Mr. Thorne
stepped out. Mr. Farris, Ms. Jones, if you had a moment
to spare? He walked down towards his temporary office
without waiting for a response.
Jack and Laney exchanged a long glance and then
waved Rupert goodbye.
That was a good show back there, Thorne said
when his office door was closed snugly behind them.
Excuse me? said Laney. Jack had filled her in
on Heads ban on the walk over.
If youre so thrilled at our performance, why did
you get Heads to ban us? said Jack.

158

There is a status quo, said Thorne. It is

important. It keeps us steady. But there are always
exceptions, and you two are an exceptional example of
that.
Were allowed to break the rules, but no one else
is? said Laney.
Yes, said Mr. Thorne. He added sharply, You
are also expected, however, not to get caught. If you two
can continue to learn combat, I would encourage it. It is a
skill set my superiors will expect you to acquire
eventually. Your prowess in similar areasyour aim, Ms.
Jones; both of your level headsis indeed what caught
my interest originally.
Laney crossed her hands in her lap. You know
what weve been doing in the town, she said. Jack
widened his eyes at her in his best inaudible shut up.
Yes, said Mr. Thorne.
Laney went on, voice level and sure, flat, Thats
why weve kept your interest. You talked to more than
just the two of us, at the beginning of the year, but were
the most intriguing, arent we? You want people who can
go out, quietly, night after night, and shoot things dead.
I want talented individuals willing to go the extra
mile for success. Mr. Thorne smiled. You two are
driven, skilled. You work well as a teama situation I
might be able to encourage my superiors to preserve.
Hm, said Laney. What an intriguing
opportunity you present, Mr. Thorne. Thank you for your
time. If you would excuse uslets go, Jack.
I dont like him, said Laney. They waited until
they were much farther away from Mr. Thornes door to
talk than they had outside Headss.
My general impressions of Bureau inspectors are
even lower than my general impressions of combat
specs, said Jack. And that wasnt fair, what he said.
You dont treat some people different than others.

159

The world isnt fair, Jack, said Laney. Whether

you like it or not. Im happy to use the advantages handed
to methats not the problem. But Thorne thinks he can
use us. He thinks if he plays us right, well dance to his
tune. I dont like it when people think they can own me.
So you going to tell him no?
Of course not, said Laney. I cant use him if he
doesnt think he can use me.
Leaf was spitting mad when they met up with him
and the others. They cant do that, he said. They cant.
Its not bothering anybody but some bullies whove run
out of easy prey! The short, stocky first-year paced the
clearing theyd foundtheyd decided not to go back to
the barn loft. This place is supposed to be about teaching
people to save people
You werent this agitated back in the office,
Jack started to say, then remembered the steadying hand
Red had kept on Leafs elbow for the entirety of the
meeting in Heads office. Ah. Thanks for not letting Leaf
rip off Headss head, Jack told Red quietly.
Red nodded, even now not taking his eyes off the
tense line of Leafs shoulders. He tore his focus away to
give Jack a terse nod. Part of my job. He addressed the
group at wholeClark, Weeds, Gloria, Heather, Laney,
Rupert, Leaf, and Jack. Are we going to stop?
They said to, said Weeds.
And youre going to let those bullies stop you?
said Leaf.
Not bulliesthe administration, said Weeds.
No, Leafs right, said Jack.
The administration are bullies? muttered Leaf.
Those bullies today, they wanted to hurt us, but
they also wanted to make a ruckus. Jack looked around
at the ex-noncombatants. They knew if they made a big
enough mess and went crying to Heads, wed get cut. We
cant let them win.

160

Yeah, said Clark, eyes bright. The sage, always

tall, had starting bulking out. He looked almost like he
could be a slender combat spec these days.
They cant kick me out, said Heather. Everyone
blinked attention over to her. She smiled slightly. The
Bureau university over on the coast wants me bad enough
that they got me in here as a guide, as a girl; they wont
let the Academy kick me out for anything less than a
murder. And even then, only if I dont cover it up well.
Uh, said Leaf.
The stable loft is out, said Jack. We could meet
out here on the groundseasy for people to sneak up on
us, but also pretty easy to pretend we were doing
orienteering practice.
Rupert smiled at his knees. And if Uncle starts
instituting patrols to find us out, well, I know his
protocols. Well have warning.
Thanks, Rupe, said Jack. Red, you still willing
to teach? Keep making this place a little more like how it
should be?
Red smiled.
We can do this, said Jack.
But we shouldnt, said Weeds. I cantIm not
going to.
Weeds, said Jack. You cant let them get to
you. Did you see what you all did today? Could you have
done that a couple months ago?
And what if they jump me when its just me? I
like my head in one pieceits the only one Ive got.
But you cant just give up, said Jack. Dont let
them win. Theyre bullies. They feed on fear. Theyre
only as powerful as you let them be.
Theyre also semi-trained professional warriors,
said Red. Weeds, its your life. Youre allowed to be
scared.

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Jack looked closer at his pale yearmate. Weeds,

I He shook his head, flushing. Hed been trying to
bully Weeds into agreement the same way hed been
narrowing in on Heads in the office. Im sorry. I didnt
mean to pressure you.
I know.
Jack met his eyes. Whatever you decide you want
to do, if you need us were there.
I know that, too, he said. Weeds got up and left.
The rest of the party dispersed quietly a little while after
that.
Well talk plans tomorrow, Red said to Jack.
Im going to go let Leaf yell a bit more before I turn in.
Thanks, said Jack.
Red shrugged and walked away.
I told Grey Id study some rune derivations with
him tonight, said Laney. Cmon, Farris, Hammersfeld,
be my brave escorts.
They turned towards the dorms. You couldve
glued them all to the walls with the flick of your wrist,
those bullies, said Rupert to Laney, casual.
That wouldnt be fair, she said. And it
wouldve taken quite a few flicks, with someone keeping
them from bashing my head in meanwhile.
Jack looked at her askance. Fair?
Well, it wouldnt be useful. I already know I can
do that.
Jack unlocked his dorm room door. Looks like
Greys not home yet, he said. He have a test tomorrow
or something?
Why would I know? Laney took her accustomed
spot at Jacks desk. I just wanted to work with someone
who wouldnt toss sparks in my face.
Do they? said Jack.
She shrugged, a motion obviously contrived with
an attempt for daintiness. Ive got the worst grip in the

162

major, she said. Everyone wins magic tug-o-war against

me, even if I can beat them all in spell construction.
You should see me in Equine Care, said Jack.
They call me Sieve, sometimes, said Laney.
Because things fall through my fingers? Theyre mages;
theyre trying to be clever.
Not managing, said Jack. Besides, they should
see your pistol grip.
She smiled at him and went on stacking books on
his re-cleared desk. Did Grey have a class he forgot?
she said. He seems like the kind of person who might do
that.
Jack squinted at the ceiling. Its Rupert you want
for times and places, butno, Greys normally home by
now.
Hm, said Laney. She flipped open one book and
one notebook. Jack fell into the account of a guerilla
campaign in the mountains which Rhones had lent him.
He finished reading about the first skirmish; Grey still
wasnt home.
Laney moved from reading about casting
techniques to scowling over Transport, which she still
hadnt gotten the hang of. Grey still wasnt home.
Three more skirmishes into Jacks reading, and
night had fallen into late evening.
Grey still wasnt home.
Jack closed the book, dread and worry finally
coalescing in his gut. Where is he?

163

Chapter Eleven. Eighteen Months Ago.

This, said Heads to the newest Academy guide,
is the training ground for the worlds greatest heroes and
legends. Only the finest of the land are allowed entrance
to our training rosters and allowed to protect and defend
us against Evil.
Only the finest in the land who applied, said
Jack. The brown knapsack over his shoulder was streaked
with red dirt. He looked around with curious eyes.
What? said Heads.
Well, not everyone wants to run around slaying
drooling monsters and getting killed, said Jack. So not
everyone mails in an application.
I suppose not, said Heads. But you understand
the import.
Definitely, sir, said Jack. Im getting lots of
import over here. He had a hand in one pocket and his
chin raised, eyes running over the edge of each building,
the curve of each hedge.
Heads swept up to the building at the center of the
square. This is the academic headquarters, where I and
the other professors make our homes and offices. There,
he said pointing the west wing, are the main classrooms,
and there, with a sweeping hand toward the east wing,
are the laboratories, storage facilities, and student
housing. And this, said Heads, is my nephew Rupert.

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It took Jack a moment to spot him. You all know a

boy like this; easy to overlook and eternally sighing. Hi,
said Rupert. He had a long, sharp nose and the
headsmasters largish ears.
Rupert will show you around and get you
settled, said Heads. Again, welcome. I expect you in
class tomorrow.
The headsmaster swept off again and Jack and
Rupert looked at each other. You must be Jack Farris,
said Rupert.
Yep, said Jack.
Rupert said, You look pretty good for your first
time in Rivertown. He started walking toward the east
wing with a wave suggesting Jack follow.
Jack did, asking, What?
Youre a foresters son, right? said Rupert. Not
a River Rat like most of us. Town can be unsettling for
those as dont know it.
I can manage myself, said Jack.
Thats what I said, said Rupert. He took a breath
and said in a rapid monotone, Were heading to the
students dorm. Youll share a room. Dont ask about
switching, just make it work. Food you get from the mess
hall, three times a day. Once a month, theres a city day.
Class starts with the sunrise and goes til sunsetbut
some of that, Rupert added in a more normal tone, is
independent study. If you get your work done, it can be
free time. He finished, in the tour guides quick bored
tones, Welcome to the Academy.
Grey pebble pathways led between stone buildings
and glossy green hedges. Jack was not used to bushes
with such straight sides. The feathery weeds rising at the
edges of the pebbles were more familiar and he ran his
fingers through them, trying to take in every sight: a
carved griffin rainspout just below the red tiles of the
roofa charred black crater near the edge of the road,

165

faintly giving off lavender smokewide practice fields,

some rock, some grass, some dirta pair of burly
students spending their afternoon off whacking at each
other with a short wooden practice sword and a blunted
practice spear.
The dorm hall is this way, said Rupert. I think
youre second floor.
Jack tore his eyes from the practice bout and
followed his sharp-nosed guide towards the grand
buildings wide stairs. What had once been a wide main
hall had had temporary walls put in, austere and wobbly
against the old ornate architecture. Teachers offices,
storage, a few study rooms, Rupert reported blandly and
took Jack through a small door which was part of the
original wall and hidden in the grandiose pattern of it.
The stairway was narrow and dark, the stairs
rickety. We keep the students in the old servants
quarters, said Rupert. They creaked past another door
and then Rupert wrenched open the wobbly door at the
very top of the stairs and nodded Jack through it.
Jack stepped past Rupert into a narrow hallway. A
broad boy in a chainmail shirt glanced over at them.
Hallo, Rupert. This one new? A little late, isnt he?
Weve had a week of classes.
How come youve got armor on? said Jack. Do
we all have to wear armor? I feel like it would be
cumbersome, dont you find it?
Strength training, said the boy. What major are
you?
Guide, said Rupert. Jack, youre just down the
hall. My rooms this one. He poked his thumb toward the
first door on the left. If you need anything, he sighed,
thats what Im here for. He went back down the stairs.
Guide? said the boy in the armor. Dont worry
about the armor then.

166

Does it help, with fighting? said Jack. I mean,

Id be alright with worrying about it in that case. But it
seems like itd just slow you down.
So does a sword through the gut, said the boy
with a shrug. Im a combat specialist major, with a melee
emphasis, so its sort of required. He confided, Ive got
a test tomorrow.
Jack circled him. But you stillve got gaps, in the
armpits there, and your legs arent covered.
This isnt full armor, said the boy. And youre
a guide anyway.
But
Nice to meet ya, said the boy. Ive got to go
studyby which I mean whack straw dummies with
clubs until I fall down. He disappeared down the stairs,
too.
Oh boy, said Jack with sincerity. Im going to
like school.
A long thin face with deep shadows under its eyes
stuck its head out through an open door. Not if I put a
hex on you, you wont, it said. It was a very tired
looking young man around Jacks age. Your voice
booms. Ive got eight pages to go on toadstools. The
door slammed.
Jack fished the acceptance letter out of his bag and
checked to make sure the number on the slammed door
wasnt his dorm numberit wasnt and so he moved
down the hall until he found it.
Standing in front of what was apparently his door,
Jack hummed a short tune that came out squeakier than
hed have liked it too, tried not to swallow too obviously,
and pushed it open.
Jack kept his bag on his shoulder as he stepped
inside. A pair of bunk beds was the focal piece of the
room. A small window had an excellent view of the inside

167

of the Academy wall. Something spoke behind Jack, in a

clear high voice.
You must be Farris.
Jack turned around. The kid in the door pointed
over his shoulder with his thumb. He seemed much too
young to be an Academy student. Theres a sign on the
door. He loped past Jackhe came about to his midribcageand bounced onto the lower bunk.
Youre my roommate? said Jack.
The kid rolled over onto his back. What gave you
that idea, buddy?
How old are you, kid? He looked like a scrawny
twelve.
Fourteen.
How did you get in?
The kid grinned up at him. Lies, theft, and
forgery, my boy.
Im Jack. He dropped his pack below the empty
desk, looking around at the room. Whats your name?
The kid waved a hand. Its on the door.
Jack blinked. Then he went out and looked at the
door. S. Grey said the door. Sage. Below that, the plaque
read J. Farris, Guide. Jack came back inside. Nice to
meet you, Grey.
Grey made a noise. Nice to meet ya too.

168

169

Chapter Twelve. Taken.

Hes probably just lost, said Rupert. Or hes
found a really good book and someplace to read it.
Theyd fetched Rupert from his room once theyd started
getting worried.
But weve looked all over campus, said Jack.
Every room with a book, and Greys not there. What if
something happened?
You guys didnt have a fight, did you? said
Laney.
No, said Jack.
Maybe someone else has seen him, said Rupert.
Come on.
Well, its not like its not in character for him to
go haring off and forget to tell anyone, Laney said as
they went.
One sage told them there was a sale at Franklins
Press, across town. Another told them Franklins had
closed, two hours ago.
They checked the rest of the library again. They
checked every nook Jack had ever dragged Grey out of.
They checked their room again, in case he had come back,
then Laneys, then Ruperts.
You go to Franklins, said Jack. Do you know
how to get there?
Laney nodded.

170

Ill check Gutenbergs, said Rupert.

Theres a bench across from an apothecary shop I
know, said Jack. He reads there sometimes if I need
supplies. If hes not there, Ill start somewhere else
They headed out into the city together. Rupert
branched off to the second bookshop, but Franklins and
the apothecarys were in the same direction.
Jack and Laney were about to split up as well
when a voice called to them across the street. Sez stood
across the way, a folded up paper in one hand, grim lines
across her face.
The paper Sez handed them was done in yellow
crayons. (In his head, Jack could hear Grey saying ochre,
gold, crocus yellow). A stick figure with a rounded nose
and a scribble of hair peered out from the page, behind a
frantic jagged cross-out.
A childs blocky letters read 43 Raingutter Way.
Its from the same source as the curse on that
house near Riverrose factory was, said Sez, with a
meaningful glance at Jack. She says hes been taken.
Jack took the drawing. Thats the warehouse
district, said Jack. Laney?
Lead on, said Laney. Sez, thank you.
Sez saw them off with a salute. Its my job, she
said.
But why would anyone want Grey? said Laney
as they left.
Forcible recruitment? Jack offered. Maybe the
Knights recognized how useful he was, after that job with
the cursed house.
But thats so stupid, Laney protested.
Kidnapping an Academy student? Its not like the
Bureaus not going to notice. The Knights dont want a
League coming after them.

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Where else are they going to find a resource as

useful as Grey? said Jack. The people they sent into that
house died. We didnt. Look, Laney, I dont know!
Laney gave a long sigh. They took him, she
said, more to herself than Jack. I suppose none of the rest
of it really matters. Lets go get our sage back.
It was four streets, a bridge, and a quick sprint to
get to the address Elaine had given them. It was an
abandoned warehouse, old and boarded over, a shining
new lock on its front door. Laney melted it with gold fire
unraveled from her wrists.
Jack stepped inside the warehouse and every
hackle he owned rose. This wasnt the Knights, he said.
Jack? said Laney.
The place was dead, dust on tables that were
meant to be bustling with workers, but there was a stretch
of cleaner floora pathway, travelled often. Dread hung
thick as cobwebs did in the windows, which were blocked
out with surprisingly sturdy barriers. The whole place
had an air of one which wanted to let people in about as
easily as it was willing to let them out, but what was
making Jacks stomach sink to his toes was the smell in
the airacrid, hot, clammy.
He knew that smell. And he knew what it meant.
Jack stayed close to the wall, inching along as
conclusions snow-balled messily in his head. The burning
smell was stronger to their left, but that might just be
where they kept their supplies, not necessarily their
captives.
There was a row of barred windows in the first
hallway they found (Laney melted the lock like she had
on the door outside, clever fingers fraying string along her
wrists).
Grey? Jack called, as quietly as he could,
looking through the first window. It was empty.
What is it? said Laney.

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You cant smell it? said Jack. He couldacrid

and clammy at once, fire and rotting death.
Well, I can tell no ones particularly heavy on
hygiene hereJack, what is it?
Theyre slavers, said Jack. But why would they
want Grey?
And you can smell that? said Laney, checking
the other windows. If they nabbed him, its probably for
the same reason the Knights might have.
No, I dont think so, said Jack. He looked
around. Hes not in any of these. He ran his fingers over
their hinges. I dont think theyre quite ready yet. I think
Grey was asurprise windfall.
Clever little sage wandering off on his own,
muttered Laney. Kid was probably showing off in the
streets, too smart for his britches
So, if they needed a temporary holding cell, said
Jack.
Cellar? said Laney.
Lets go.
They were about to enter a third corridor, looking
for stairways down, when a man came around the corner
like he was expecting them.
Laneys hand went to her wrist. She flung fire at
their attacker, but he flicked it to the side with a gloved
hand (emblems flashed on it, gold, when the fire struck)
and he got in a straight blow with his other fist. She
slammed into the hallway wall, dropping to hands and
knees. When Jack went for her, he felt a knife below his
chin, held by someone behind him. He froze.
Stay still, that someone whispered and then a
sharp impact at the back of his skull made his world go
black.
Sometime later, Jack woke.

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A throbbing pain at his temples and another

throbbing lump at the back of his head suggested he
reconsider that decision.
The world was still dark. He thought it might be
because he hadnt managed to open his eyes yet. He could
feel bruises forming up and down his side as well;
whoever had laid him down hadnt bothered to do it with
his comfort in mind.
My charms were snipped, said Laney. Theyre
gone, all of my spells Jack could hear her rustling
about. Something clanked metallically as well. The sound
grew more frenetic as she found bare wrists, bare ankles.
They shouldnt have been able to do that. You have to
know what youre doing to cut those without backlash.
They took them all. Jack
Jack forced his eyes open and then blinked
blearily in a dim and flickering electric light. He was
lying on his side.
Theyre mage slavers, said a voice, cracked and
shaking, from the corner.
There was a surge of rustles and clanks as Laney
sped in the voices direction. Grey!
Jack got his hands under him and pushed upward.
While his head came upward, his vision had a second of
lag before it caught up with him.
Youre pale, Laney was saying. Are you
injured, pip?
Jack shifted so he was sitting upright; it took his
vision a little less time to snap back into sync with him
this time. He blinked twice and focused on the pair in the
corner. Grey was quite pale.
The boy had his knees pulled up, his chin dropped
on top of them, most of his body hidden in that small,
folded package. Just scared, he offered. You tooka
long time to wake up. Whatreyou doing here? Grey

174

was very quietly out of breath. Sweat beaded on his

temples and his hands shook softly.
Saving you, dumbass, said Laney.
How did you?
Find you? said Laney. They had taken her
knotted spells, Jack saw. In cruel recompense theyd left
an iron neck-ring hung with a jagged quartz. At the heart
of the quartz, there was a glowing strand, like the heart of
it was shattered and leaking gold. In a sense, it was.
Jack pushed himself up all the way and staggered
his way across to them. Sez knows everything,
remember? Laney, I think they hit me harder than you.
Well, youre not a mage. Your stomachs not
trying to come out your ears, said Grey. They figured a
yawning crack in the fabric of the world chained under
her chin might keep Laney quiet.
Ha, said Laney faintly, her fingers lifting to
brush the quartz hanging over the notch in her collarbone,
as though she had just noticed it. It left a scent in the air,
hot and acrid.
Good thing youre too spunky for that, said
Grey and dropped his forehead down onto his knees.
This was really stupid of you, he added, muffled.
Didnt expect to run into mountain slavers out in
force in the middle of Rivertown, said Jack.
Theyre branching out every year, Grey said
into his knees. Neither did I.
Jack gave a long sigh, in honor of Rupert, and felt
his headache spike briefly. We need to get out of here.
What do we have? They took my knife. You dont have
any charms, Laney?
They took them, she said.
And you cant free spell with that thing around
your neck, he mused. Jack flicked his eyes up to the
corners of the roomlow, dank, probably a cellar of the
same riverside warehouse.

175

What is it? said Laney, fingers wrapped around

the quartz. Faint gold light shone between her finger tips.
Its a crack between our world and the
Elsewhere, said Grey, his best sage voice a little marred
by circumstance. A small one. They happened in
extreme pressure in deep mountains, back when the
mountains were being formed, millions of years ago.
Probably the cracks happened a lot of places, back then.
The studies are inconclusive. But the cracks were pressed
and fixed into stone in the mountains, instead of re-fusing
and healing (or maybe they were only formed in places of
high pressure, not just that thats the only place they were
preservedgeo-occultology, its an interesting field).
He was trying very hard to cling to his usual
rambling banter.
Chin on his knees, Grey steepled his fingers so
they met over his nose. They shook. And people dig
them up now, whatever stones the cracks are embedded
in, and they tie them around mages to make them
toothless. Thought it was hard to function during an
Elsewhere storm? They figured out that being around an
open fissure to the Elsewhere means a mage can hardly
stand up straight, let alone eke magic into being.
So, said Jack. No magic. No sharp
weaponry...
Actually, Ive still got a knife, said Laney.
I know it must be annoying, but I love it when
they underestimate you, said Jack. Theres a broom,
over there. I can use it as a blunt weapon. But we need to
get out. He stood. Most of his balance was back.
Windows too small, Jack said, of the tiny slit high in
the walls, which opened up at ground level inside the
warehouse. He paced over to the single door; on the other
side of it he presumed were stairs leading up. This
wasnt always a cell, said Jack. The locks accessible
from this side, too. Ha, good, we have Jack turned

176

around quickly and blinked, as though realizing they were

missing someone. His eyes skidded haltingly over Laney.
Do we have someone who can pick locks?
Does Rupert normally? said Grey. Jack, do you
all normally get locked into cellars? And, yes, I can, but I
dont carry picks. Learning the skill was an academic
exercise, not a practical one.
They didnt take my hair pins, said Laney,
brightening, fishing them out. Black hair loosed itself in
frizzy hanks to frame her face. Here, Grey, she said,
and dropped them into his hand.
Grey looked at them for a moment. Okay, he
said. Um. Someones going to have to help me to the
door.
Jack turned from the door swiftly. I thought you
said you werent injured!
Im not, said Grey. He made a face, then gave a
resigned and breathless grumble. He put one hand on the
wall behind him and levered himself up on shaking legs.
The cracked stone attached around his neck, which had
been out of sight behind his tucked-up knees, flashed with
something more gold than their buzzing electric lamp.
Just, an open fissure to Elsewhere, yeah? Kind of hard to
stand.
Laney stood too, grabbing onto Greys elbow to
keep him upright. Youre a mage? she asked, eyes
wide. A moment later, Jack had Greys other arm.
Ive got him, Jack told Laney. You should sit.
This cant be any easier for you.
She let his elbow slip from her fingers and
brushed the stone at the hollow of her own throat. Laney
let her other hand press into the damp wall, heart beating
fast. Jack tried stooping enough for Grey to put his arm
around his shoulders, but a great deal of stooping was
required. After a few awkward steps, he just picked the
boy bodily up and carried him to the doorway while Grey

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squawked vehement protest. Jack put him down gently in

front of it and handed him Laneys hair pins.
Grey had managed to stay standing, clinging to the
doorframe. Not going to sayanything? Gee, Grey,
howd ya manage to wash that armband so many times
the purple faded to silver?
I figured they just gave you a silver one straight
away, said Jack with his best serious face.
All muscle, no room for humor, Grey grumbled,
inching the first pin into the lock.
Are you going to be able to manage? said Jack.
Its just mechanics, said Grey. Just tumblers
andand cogs. He was pale. All I got to dois find
find the way these onesfit.
Jack leaned up against the door, watching the
shake of Greys knees in case they decided to collapse.
So, a mage, huh, kid?
Here it comes, Grey said, eyes on the door knob.
Just curious. He saw Greys knuckles were
white on the frame, holding himself up. Jack straightened
and put out an arm for him to lean on instead. Grey gave a
grumble that almost sounded like gratitude, if you listened
just right, and took it. His hands were shaking on the pins,
chewing his lip as he tried to keep them still.
Grey?
I can barely see straight, he admitted, very
quietly. I justhere, yes, give me that other pin
Click.
Yes! said Grey, throwing both arms in the air.
Jack grabbed his shoulders and moved him back to an
upright position when he toppled over.
Laney crossed the room in quick if bruised strides.
They had been kinder to her than to Jack, but not by
much. She took out her knife and held Greys elbow
while Jack fetched the broom and swung it experimentally
a few times.

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Ready? she asked him.

Might as well, he said and swung open the door.
There was indeed a staircase going up. There were
thirteen mostly uniform steps, all a little damp and
friendly with mold.
At the top of the steps, there was another bolted
door.
Laney went up the stairs two at a time (Jack
grabbed Greys left elbow when she dropped his right).
No visible lock, she said. Jack would have had a hard
time not slamming the door in frustration but she just
stood there looking at it, letting her shoulders fall back
into a careful and precise posture. Looks thick, too, new.
I dont think were going to be able to kick it down, not
even you, Jack.
Let me see, said Jack, but his heart was already
dropping to his toes. Hed spent half a year learning to
trust Laney Joness judgment. Jack grabbed Grey under
each elbow, his broom tucked under one arm, and
climbed halfway up the stairs. He looked.
Okay, Jack said. Then well have to wait for
them to unlock it. We can set up an ambush. Well have
to be ready to run. Theres a slot in the lower door for
food and water, so theyll unlock this one thinking they
have to walk down the stairs
That sounds abominably risky, said Laney. She
was standing three steps above him, one hand pressed up
against the hard wood of the door. She wasnt looking
back.
It is, Jack admitted. But I dont want you, or
Grey, ending up where they mean to take us.
Where do they mean to take us? said Laney.
There are people, began a voice. It wasnt Jack
who said it, but Grey, very quietly, in the mountains,
who will pay a great deal for mages.

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Now Laney did turn back, and looked at the pale

boy shaking on the steps. Jack, she said. Im going to
try something.
What are you going to try? said Jack.
Laney wrapped a hand around one bare wrist,
looking down. I think I can blast the door open, she
said.
With that thing around your neck? Grey
blanched, if anything, further. Jones, I cant even think
of reaching for the Elsewhere right now, for fear my
spleens going to come out my nose trying to get to it.
Im not going to reach for it, exactly, she said.
Laney? said Jack.
I know what Im doing, she said. Im an old hat
at thisnot prison breaks, but. She turned to the door
and took a long breath. Jack, take Grey down into the
basement again. Probably good if hes not too close to
this.
Oy, Miss Jones, didnt anyone tell you what
impossible means? Dont? Insanity? Grey said as Jack
picked him up again and headed for the basements back
wall. Put me down, Farris, I can walk.
Pretty sure you cant, actually, Jack offered.
At the top of the stairs, Laney took a breath, then
dragged one careful finger through the empty space in
front of her.
Brighter than the muddied cracks encased in their
pair of crystals, a split opened in the air, looking out (or
in) at something other than the air behind it. Through the
gaping, impossible hole, the Elsewhere glowed.
The opening was just large enough for Laney to
put her hand through. Around her slim wrist, it glowed
molten gold as shafts of light curled outward.
Close it! said Jack as Grey squeaked and
grasped at him.

180

Laney drew out a handful of gold fire, then began

to pinch and weave the cut closed while her other hand
juggled her stolen patch of magic. After a breathless
moment, Grey relaxed (somewhat) and the gold highlights
along the hollows of Laneys cheeks were only from the
ball of light in her hands.
Everyone okay? Walking back down the stairs,
she drew a tendril of gold out of the misshapen globe
pulsing slightly above the palm of her left hand. The faint
scar in the air behind her healed itself with a whisper;
after a moment, the air was empty again.
Grey gave a muffled affirmation. He drew back
from where hed been clinging to Jacks arm and said,
Are you insane? That was the Elsewhere, that wasyou
made a crackand one not trapped in stone! That place
eats mages, thats the point of mages, theyre things that
the Elsewhere wants to eat. Do you know how suicidal
that was? How crazy? For a mage, to open a port to
Elsewhere, directly? A mage, a mage, he said, and
stopped. Grey blinked, still ashen, sweat pooling in the
ridge of his collarbone next to the hanging quartz. A
mage, he said. Youre not a mage.
Laney drew out another strand, then another. Can
you hold this without making it settle? she said, offering
the larger ball of fire to him. Grey put out a shaking hand
and she slipped the magic into it. She turned to the fiery
strands in her hand and began weaving those. When she
had a small net (Grey was making some sort of academic
noise at it, but Jack was focusing on listening for guards
or slavers), she reached forward and fixed it around the
stone at Greys neck. The crack within seemed to dim
slightly, dulled.
Well? she said, watching him critically. Grey
remained pale and vaguely shaky. Oh, she said,
glancing down at the stone around her own neck. She
took a step back. He looked at her miserably and she

181

stared a little, then continued backing up. When she and

the undamped quartz at her neck were pressed up against
the far wall as far as she could get from him, a little color
started to return to Greys cheeks.
Cant you just cut the neck bands off? said Jack.
If youve access to magic.
I could burn it off him, sure, said Laney. But
you like having a neck, dont you, Grey?
Enormously, he said.
Jack closed his eyes. There are wire cutters in the
warehouse above, I remember. We can snatch them on
our way out, maybe.
Laney nodded. We need to snatch up my pistols,
too. Think you can walk? she said, heading back toward
him (Grey winced at every step).
Better than I could, Grey said. Cant promise
much else.
Good, she said. I think Jack and I are going to
have our hands full. Now hand me my magic back, if you
will.
Hey, Im the mage here, Grey joked faintly,
pouring the golden blob back towards her.
She smiled, the light casting sharp shadows above
her cheekbones and into her hair. Sorry, pip, but youre
not. That spots quite well occupied, thank you very
much. Laney tossed the magic back and forth between
her hands with practiced ease, spinning out long strands
and curling them into letters of destruction and
containment, linking them with cords of glittering light.
Laney went back up the stairs, the pretend-mage
with power burning in her palms, a young man with a
broom and a shaking sage dogging her footsteps. Ready
this time? she asked.
If theres another door after this, I will set
something on fire, said Grey.

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Laney flung her hands out and with a muffled

crack the door at the top of the stairs turned to a fall of
fine black dust.
It took the slavers, who had foregone playing
cards to nap, a moment to surge to their feet. There were
five guards, and honestly only two of the escapees were
quite meaningful to count in this particular fight, but this
time they werent ready and Laney and Jack were.
Jack jabbed the brooms bristles at one mans
eyes, then kicked his feet out from under him when the
man jerked back, eyes snapping closed momentarily and
instinctually. The man crashed down on his back. Jack
flipped him over, pulled him up into a sitting position, and
clinically popped both of his shoulders out of his sockets.
I dont like slavers, he said to Laney, and
together they finished the rest.
Jack used the wire cutters to get the stones off
Laney and Greys necks. They left by the same door
theyd come in, stepping out into the chilly night. There
were few electric street lamps in this part of the city and
the stars were bright.
We need to tell someone about that place, said
Laney firmly, shaking off the smell of mold in the
clean(er) city air. Grey was popping along beside her,
rubbing at his unadorned neck and rapidly regaining his
color. His hands still shook, a little.
Theyll be moving it quickly enough, said Jack.
Its not unobvious that we were there.
But when we were there, Laney began, it
seemed like
The pair the nabbed us? Jack nodded. It was
like they knew we were coming, but, he shook his head.
Theyve got a seer, said Grey.
Jack turned to stare, heart in his throat. The
seeress? said Jack. Laney glanced at him and he
shrugged away as much obvious fear as he could. Had a

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lecture awhile back, on mountains and modern combat in

the heroes lectures. Her familys town, up in the valleys,
the Academys certain thats where most of the mages
goseers, too, even sensitives.
Theyve been rounding them up out of the
mountains for years, Grey agreed. But I didnt mean
her. I meant the slavers. They have a seer. Not much of
one, from what I could hear, but good enough for tactics
in the short term. I bet he saw you coming.
And the seeress hasnt nabbed him up? Jack
said. I was under the impression she didnt like
competition.
Grey smiled. Doesnt like redundancy, maybe.
But I think hes useful enough that this party of slavers
felt he was worth more with them than whatever she
could pay them. He was walking with only a faint shake
of his legs. They probably dont advertise the fact to her,
though.
So, said Jack.
So, what? said Grey, kicking a pebble along the
road mulishly, and almost falling over.
So there are some things we should probably talk
about, said Jack.
Ive got a test tomorrow morning, said Grey. I
could talk to you about that. Do you want to hear about
desert ecology?
Not really, said Jack. Can we talk about how
you apparently keel over in the presence of Elsewhere
cracks? Laney, beside him, raised her eyebrows.
Id rather not, said Grey.
Well, if you wont talk, we can always just think
a little. Youre a mage, said Laney, watching all the
puzzle pieces fall into place. And youre from the
mountains. She shook her head, loose, frizzy hair flying.
She hadnt replaced the pins shed lent to Grey for lock
picks. No wonder youre secretive. You do know that

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down here in the flats they dont steal people for being
magic?
They dont let you be sages, either, said Grey.
And the flats are apparently not as safe as they claim.
But why arent you studying to be one? said
Jack. The magic you could do, the way Laneys port
made you keel over
Laney nodded. No one in my class drops like
that.
Do you open Elsewhere ports in class? said
Grey. Well theres a great reason not to be a mage in
your class.
How else am I supposed to pass the tests that call
for free spellwork? she said. Im very good about
opening them quick, under the table, and closing them
quickno one does anything more than go a little pale,
let alone notice. I try to use mostly only my pre-packaged
spells around other mages, but sometimes they want
something too specific for me to plan it in advance. I
dont leave them open like that when I know therere
blasted overpowered mages in the room.
Well, now you know, he said. So dont.
She leaned back, digesting the news and spinning
out to its furthest conclusions. So thats what youre
doing here, said Laney. A mage from the mountains, a
powerful one, dressed up like a sage. Theres someone
out there who knows what you can do.
Grey made a dismissive noise. Im a sage
because I want to be.
Scaring kids away from home, because theyre
magic, said Laney. Is there not enough air up in the
mountains to breathe, and so everyone goes crazy, or
what?
We dont live on mountain tops, said Grey.
Therere nice cozy little towns in the valleys.
And in caves, said Jack cheerily.

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Bandits lives in caves, Grey corrected sourly.

People live in town. And heroes live in
Bakeries, said Jack promptly.
Grey looked at him oddly (this was far from
unusual). I was going to say in peril, said Grey. Or
with frostbite.
Well, theyre all insane, said Laney. The ones
who steal mages, not the heroes. The stories you hear
you, for one, Grey.
He shrugged. Not everyone in the mountains is
insane, said Grey. In fact, Id say very few are. But
thats all you really need, in the right place.
Can we talk about how you got caught, then?
said Jack. If they try again, Id like to be able to bash
them before they nab you. Did they break into the
Academy records or something?
The Academy doesnt know about me, said
Grey. And they didnt know I was Academytheyre
not that stupid. I wasnt wearing my uniform.
Then how?
Grey kicked at another pebble. They were passing
by a quiet street, less tenements and more craftsman
workshops.
I didnt know you were a mage, Grey. Why
would they?
Grey stuck his hands in his pockets. He chewed
his lip and then said, My hands were cold, okay? And I
guess they saw me?
Seriously? said Laney.
I couldnt go back for a jacket. The sale would
close, muttered Grey.
Seriously? she said. Kid, your priorities are
wrong.
I wasnt expecting slavers, he said. Theyre
this is the flats. Theyre not supposed to be here. And
what about you, Miss Jones?

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What about me? she said primly.

You going to pretend you dont have a story to
tell here? said Grey. Youre a non-mage who does
magic. You cracked open a port between dimensions to
steal a bit of fire.
How else was I supposed to get to it? said
Laney. If you say something about non-mages place in
the world
Im not! said Grey. I think its brilliant. I just
dont understand how its possible.
She smiled at him, gracious and wise. Practice.
They headed towards home. The Rivertown streets
were dark except for some scattered electric lights. Grey
jumped when bulbs flickered, his whole body tense with
exhaustion. Sometimes a warmed light would spill from
beneath a door jam where a family might be beginning
their day in the predawn dark.
Jack tried to think back through the fuzzy haze of
panic (some of this haze was probably also due to the
remains of a giant throbbing headache). He and Laney
must have been unconscious for an hour, or more, down
there in the basement. Grey must have had to spend at
least an hour with the still bodies of two friends who had
gotten hurt trying to help him.
The Academy was very quiet as they let
themselves back in, the squeak of the gate the loudest
noise around. They crunched across the gravel-lined paths
of the grounds, wincing at the echoing noise on the
plastered walls. When they climbed up the stairs to the
second floor of the dorms, where Grey and Jack stayed,
Laney, who lived on the third floor, didnt keep climbing.
They moved quietly down the dim hallway instead and all
piled through into their room. Jack tended wounds from
the med kit in his desk. Grey remembered how to breathe.
When Jack was partway through cleaning a scrape
on her forearm, Laney started asking Grey why he wasnt

187

a mage. They were exhausted; Grey was defensive. Laney

could not understand why someone who had been handed
so much power so easily would turn it down. Her hands
ghosted over the missing knots around her wrists, which
were memories of a long, slow, stubborn climb toward
greatness. (She would spend the next three months
rebuilding them, drawing on careful lessons learned over
endless years).
Eventually, Grey shook his head. A hero might
trade an old white cow for an adventure, might steal a
golden harp, but hed kill for a fortune and half the
kingdom. Jack, you just saw the mountain slavers snatch
me for warming my hands. The same kind of people live
there and herethe greedy, the insane, and those too
scared to hinder them. What do you think the Bureau
would do if they knew about me?
Youre just another mage, Grey, said Laney.
They dont do anything nasty to me.
I dont want to brag, said Grey.
Jack coughed.
Well, said Grey, grinning at him, the expression
little and sharp and full of itself. I do want to brag. But,
he said, and the grin started to fade around the edges. He
sat on his bed, pulling blankets and books around himself.
I dont want to brag about something thats not my fault,
when there are so many awesome things Ive actually
earnedbut Ive studied mages, Laney. The great ones,
all the things they were reported to have done. When I say
Im not just another mage, I know what Im talking
about.
But the things you could do, Grey, said Jack.
Do you know how many people dream of being mages?
How can you not want to learn how to use a gift like that?
You could save lives.

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And do you know how many people dream of not

being born with a weight like that on their shoulders?
said Grey. Its not a gift everywhere, Jack.
Youre just another mage, Grey, said Laney.
Its your life, I get that. I really, really do. But I dont
think the Bureau would be as easily corrupted by your
half of a kingdom as you think. They havent got
bushel-loads of mages, but they have more than anyone
else in the world. What would one more spark-flinger
matter?
Grey shook his head.
Come on, pip
Grey lifted his hand, palm up, to eye-height. Jack
and Laney stopped talking. There was an air of something
brewing, and Jack realized belatedly that around Grey that
wasnt uncommon.
The kid, he was always flailing his hands, chaotic
and distracted, spilling pencils onto the floor, oversetting
Jacks piles of drying flowers. He was always chewing his
pen, inked hands and a smudged nose calling far more
attention than how sharp his eyes could go. But Grey
stood still now, eyes steady.
Jack realized he was holding his breath. He forced
himself to inhale.
Grey let his hand drop. It was a simple movement,
effortless. Soundlessly, the tips of his fingernails
screeched on empty air, throwing violent gold sparks.
I dont think you understand, he said.
Jack had seen mages call magic before. The
Academy apprentices screwed up their brows and wrung
it out of empty space. Even the best mage Jack had ever
known, who could whistle up fire instead of physically
dragging it into being, hadnt managed to make it look
effortless, hadnt managed to make it look this accidental.
Along the path of Greys hand, the sparks flurried
and swarmed, spiraling down to his hand, which hung

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open-palmed in his lap. They merged and murmured,

flashing brighter as they coiled around his still fingers.
There was a heat in the room; there was a sense of grand
and terrible immensities in the empty air.
Jack had never seen Grey so still before.
I dont even have to think it, said Grey.
Between me and the Elsewhere, the world is a tissue.
Dont you tell me I dont have a right to be terrified by
that.
Grey shook his hand roughly, letting sparks fly
and sputter out. Sunlight slanted through the window
the sun was risinga completely different shade of
yellow and gold.
So, yes, said Grey. Yes, Im a mage, and I hate
it. His hands scrambled over his books, trying to stack
them, but just skewing them across his sheets. He rolled
off the bed, hands clenched, eyes down. Im going to the
library. Theres a bookonthere s a book I want. He
flapped a tense hand in goodbye, in dismissal, and shoved
out the door.
When it slammed shut, Jack could hear the
nameplate swing back and forth outside. J. Farris, guide
and S. Grey, sage.
Well, said Laney. We should tell Rupert we
found him.
And Sez, Jack agreed. He rubbed his hands
again. His head was still aching and fuzzy. How are you,
Jones? You had one of those things around your neck,
too. I know theyre hell on mages.
Just a rock to me, she said.
He blinked. Yeah. I forgot. How did you end up a
mage with no magic?
Pigheaded stubbornness, she said simply. Its a
Jones family trait.
Jack laughed. Yeah, I know, he said.

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Hey, I could be the exception, she said. I could

be special.
You are special, Laney Jones. Jack stood up,
creakingly weary, and moved for the door.
My brother is a mage, she said. When I was a
kid, I wanted to be just like him, so.
Jack paused by the door, aching. Another
stubborn Jones? he said.
Laney laughed. Very. Stop looking so solemn,
Farris. Were out! The little pipsqueak is okay, and you
get to show off all your pretty new bruises tomorrow
morning at breakfast.
God, breakfast. Thats in barely more than an
hour, isnt it? He scrubbed at his face. Arent you
exhausted?
Very, she said, and smiled at him pityingly.
Takes more than this to break my game face, boy.
Oh, good for you, he said.
Jack managed to get in a half hour nap after letting
Rupert know they were back and safe. He didnt pass on
what else they werethat Grey was a mage and Laney
was not.
He struggled blearily through the rest of the day.
Jack kept dropping his spoon in his morning oatmeal,
splattering Grey, who covered the pages of Migrations:
the Lie of Separate Spheres with a horrified glare, and
Rupert, who sighed and reached for napkins.
Jack sat in the back of Tracking, trying to avoid
Merriss eyes while he tried not to drop off. They were
covering tracking and survival in marshy areas, which
Jack didnt know anything about, so he tried to keep his
eyes open.
Outdoor training was awful, until the endorphins
started kicking in. He rode on the buzz all the way back to
his dorm room after class, where he found Grey snoring
into a book on military campaigns along the coast. Jack

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inched the book out from underneath the small sage

mage?
Jack stood there, the heft of the tome weighing
down one hand, and looked at the boy sprawled among
cluttered texts on astronomy, pottery, the history of
flower-growing in the red hills, electricity and its uses.
There were ink stains on his hands, his sheets, his
upturned nose. Jack used a scrap of paper to keep Greys
place, then put the closed book down amid the rest.
Mage? No. S. Grey was a sage.
Its on the door, said Jack, then crawled up onto
his bunk and finally, finally went to sleep.

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193

Chapter Thirteen. The Ballad of Laney

Jones.
Laney started tottering behind Liam as soon as she
could walk. Sand was not kindly on toddler stability, but
it was forgiving to falls. Laney fell often, fell hard. Every
time she did, Liam leaned down and grinned at her,
teenaged and gangly, and told her, Good job. Fallings
the bravest thing Ive ever heard of.
She didnt know what those words meant. Laney
was all big dark eyes and knees that wouldnt stop being
scraped up for years. She didnt know what those words
meant, but she knew an honest smile when she saw one
and this one reached all the way up to the freckles at the
corners of her brothers eyes.
Laney grew up amidst a constant flux of alliances
and vendettas. Truces formed and fell; enmities rose and
broke. Most affairs were dealt out in marriages and
skirmishes. There was little bloodshed in the nomads
desert, out past the bustling green life squashed along the
river, mostly bruises and the occasional kidnappings of
spouses. They had been at this for a thousand years; the
Joneses were related to the Smiths were related to the
Johnsons were related to the Greens. The desert was a

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place of constant conflict, but little war. Life was

measured in oases and spots of rocky outcroppings that
hid tufts of dry grass for the goats.
Liam hummed when he carved, whistled when he
walked, sang to the goats when he shepherded them out to
rocky outcroppings to search for dry grass in their cracks.
At four, Laney tumbled after him, scrapes
indiscriminately sprinkled on her elbows, knees, and
shins. She scrambled over sandy hills and piles of rocks,
fell down the other side and laughed. She hummed along
behind him, but her voice warbled; she sang the words to
his songs and hit the right notes once a line, when she was
lucky. Her voice would never be beautiful.
Liam held her little hand in his, leading her over
sand and rock, and hummed out a tune about mice who
save lions. Never stop singing, he said.
Laney had big dark eyes and, even at four, a sly
little smile sharp enough to leave her opponent bleeding.
When she was barely one, Laney tried to walk
without holding onto anything, before she was really quite
ready to do that without landing on her bum. When she
was two, she tried to follow Liam out to take the goats to
their rocky temporary pasture, no place for a child that
small. When she was five, she sliced her arm open on a
knife she was not old enough to be allowed to touch.
When she was sixteen, she would apply to be a mage at
the Academy, though she was not a mage.
Laney had always known her limits. They were
drawn in lines on the sand, careful as the carvings on the
nomads mages staff; they were clear every time she saw
her failuresher failures to sing, to sew, to negotiate, to
charm their latest perhaps-alliessaw them met with
frank disapproval in the kerosene lamplight of their

195

nights.
She had always known her limits, because Liam
would laugh when she tried to break them, delighted, and
clean up her scraped knees, tend the slice on her arm with
antiseptic, wipe her tears. Thats my brave girl, hed
say. Only cowards never fall.
Her mother liked to say, Dont try things you
cant do. You cant let them see you less than perfect. It
leads to your tents burned down by people who think
youre conquerable. Men become men instead of
warriors. You have to know your limits, or you will
break.
Laney had always known: that the first time she
held a pistol she wasnt going to hit her mark; that she
was likely to fall out of the first palm tree she ever
climbed, the second, the third; that she could not carry a
tune.
At sixteen, she did not fall in front of anyones
eyes except maybe the stars, no matter what the stories
sing about what stars may whisper to their lovers. At
sixteen, she could sew every stitch needed to make a
nomads tent, and no one remembered watching her spend
a year failing, because shed stitched those failures in the
dark.
Her mother would have had her never touch a
pistol, never touch a tree for fear of falling out. She was a
woman, and in the desert women sowed peace as well as
sewed tents, so her mother saw failure in not just every
off-target bullet, but in every shot Laney ever took.
Liam mightve cheered even every off-target shot,
but Laney had taken that much of her mothers advice to
heart. She hated for anyone to know that she could bruise.
But still she sang on long walks, when no one
could hear her. These days her bullets hit bulls-eyes.

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You have to know your limits to break them.

When Laney was seven, Liam introduced her to
the Elsewhere. He whistled it up, sang its own tune back
at it. He was nineteen and almost gone. He had taught her
how to hold a gun, though not how to shoot one, because
shed asked him; that day she had asked him about magic.
Lets see, hed said. Hm. Give me your hand. He
whistled, hummed; his voice rose sweet and sharp and
Laney felt the skin of another world pressing into her
hand.
Thats where the magic lives, he said. Dyou
think you can call it?
She tried, because she was seven, because she was
not yet afraid of failing. No, she said, because she was
not yet afraid of admitting failure either.
Well, Liam said. Thats alright.
She woke the next day remembering the feel of
distant fire on the skin of her hand. Liam! she said, not
yet afraid that people would say no, not yet afraid that
people wouldnt come when she called, not yet afraid that
people would walk away and never come back. I lost it,
she said. I cant feel it anymore.
They went out with the hungry goats again and
Liam whistled. He tried to teach her the tune, but the tune
changed and Laney couldnt hear it in the air. He whistled
and she pressed her hands up against the fiery skin of the
universe that came when he called, felt a limit she
couldnt see and reached out to break it.
Dont split it, Liam said hurriedly, stopping her
chubby childs hand. She blinked at him, all big dark eyes
and miscomprehension again; dont wasnt a word she
heard often crossing his lips. Liam pulled her into his lap
and explained seriously, We pull it through and its
magic; but dont put your hand in it, dont break the

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barrier. The Close Distance eats people. The stronger you

are, the more it pulls you in.
Im not strong, she said, seven and sure of it, but
she didnt put her hand in, not yet.
When she was eight, Liam was twenty and feeling
trapped and useless.
For her, the desert was immensity; a week ago was
an eternity; the next oasis was a wondrous new world;
Laney could not understand her brothers feelings. One
day she would.
When she was eight, Liam left, and she stopped
falling down. There was no one looking for her to be
brave.
She stopped falling down until the day she felt like
Liam did, twenty and useless, only she was sixteen and
hiding impossible magic in knotted string and carved
palm wood. The desert was a sandbox; a week was a
belabored heartbeat; the next oasis looked just like the
last.
When Laney was sixteen, she embarked on an
adventure far outside the limits of a desert girl with
goatskin shoes and not a drop of magic. She left the desert
with the Academys acceptance letter clutched tight in
one hand, her heart pounding the inside of her ribs like it
would like to get out. It felt like falling, and she swore she
could hear someone humming on the wind.
Laney pressed her hand up against the skin of the
world, and broke it, and took out a handful of fire to warm
her on her way north.

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199

Chapter Fourteen. Touch.

The moon was a crescent in the sky. In the center
of his shared dorm room, Grey pressed his palms up
against the skin of the world and Jack snored.
The world pulsed back, hot and heavy-handed, the
Elsewhere the scream of a trumpet and the clash of a
cymbal, the drag of ropes on raw wrists and the tide
pulling him under.
In the upper bunk, Jack heaved out a rumpled sigh
and Grey let the sound pull him back to himself.
Laney dragged her fingers along the threads of the
world as she walked, feeling the taciturn paper barriers
between worlds, which her fingers ached to unravel.
Shed never had a dream so sweet as that fire between her
palms. When she grew up she wanted to be the roar of a
sandstorm at high noon.
Laney could tell Grey hated it, the fire that lived
just on the other side of everything he touched. Some
days she couldnt understand it: she had dreamed all her
life of the Elsewhere calling to her the way it did to him.
She dreamed of her lie turning to truth, of ripping magic
from the air instead of ferreting it into knotted bracelets

200

on late nights when her roommate was fast asleep or in

the library.
But some days she remembered what it was to
have sand pressed into the whorls of her hands, her
identity written in her perfect tent stitches and in the way
her mother could douse simmering tempers with a smile.
She remembered what it was to feel like her destiny was
inescapable.
She remembered the first time, at high midnight,
all alone with her feet buried in freezing sandsthe first
time she had torn open the walls of world and looked at a
rippling sea of gold fire through a crack in the air. It
hadnt looked back. Uncles were always staring at her, at
the pistols butts in her camels saddlebags. Her mother
was always dropping a lingering glance over her strong
hands stirring a cookpot over the blue flickers of the gas
camp stove. But this fire never looked back.
Laney remembered standing with a cold desert
midnight at her back and a burning crack in the world
hanging before her, the first time she knew the boundaries
of the world itself were no limit.
This was truethat some days Laney dreamed of
feeling that fire ghost across her hands as a storm struck
up in the Elsewhere, calling, calling, like an oasis on the
horizon, like a world where no one knew her name. She
dreamed of deserving the title mage.
But other days what she loved most was that when
gold fire pooled in her hands it was not an act of passion.
It was not a stroke of destiny or something written into
her skin, but something built of precision and strength. It
was a choice.

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Chapter Fifteen. Where Are You Going,

Hero Boy?
Why are you here, Jack?
At the Academy? Jack shrugged, tried a grin
that tinged ironic at the edges. Only place to go if you
want to be a hero, right?
In my office, said Rhones. You did fine on the
last testmissed a little on execution, a few marks on, er,
overzealous hopes for success. But I thought those
corrections were rather clear from my annotations.
They were clear, said Jack. I just, I dont
know. He shrugged.
Are you doing alright, kid? said Rhones.
Bulliesnah, youre too big for bullies.
Youd be surprised, said Jack. But Im alright.
He shook his head. I shouldnt be taking up your time.
The works not too hard, is it? I dont mean to
take away from your actual studies with my
extracurriculars. Though really, Rhones humphed, my
extracurriculars are worth twice
I came here to learn and no one seems willing to
teach me, said Jack, with a sudden decision.
The professor sat back, steepling stubby fingers.
Rhones hadnt interrupted him, so Jack went on,
things tumbling faster from his mouth as he went. Its
not hard, said Jack. Thats the problem, thats what
scares me. Its everything elsepeople, choices, years.

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What am I supposed to do with my life? How could

anyone have thought it was a bright idea to leave me with
a choice as big as that? What if here isnt where Im
supposed to be? Im learning, sure, but there are places
that need people. There are people that need help, and Im
not helping. Im studying edible flowers.
Rhones leaned back slowly, watching him. You
have time, Jack. You dont have to make all your
decisions right now.
Who says I have time? You cant promise that. If
tomorrow my heart just stops, is this how I want to have
spent my life?
Working toward something worthwhile? said
Rhones. I dunno, its your life, kiddo. But mine? Im
proud to give my years to this place. Theyre damn stupid
sometimes, and I dont like the color-coding, but this is
where people go when they want to grow up to save lives.
If I can teach them, if I can pluck daft little hicks out of
the rafters and drill some good tactical strategy into their
dense headsyeah, Id say its worth it. I know you want
to help, Jack. But give us two years, let us teach you, and
you can help better.
But even if I do have the time, said Jack, what
if somebody else doesnt? What if there are people I could
be helping even now?
There are, said Rhones. But you cant save
everyone.
Why not? Jack said. Dont answer, it was
rhetorical. Hed learned to identify those clearly; Grey
would try to answer anything with so much as an implied
question mark.
Id answer if I could, kid. Rhones heaved
himself to his feet. Anyway, the bruises on you, I think
youre doing a decent job slipping some heroics into your
schedule.
Jack rubbed the back of his neck. Well, he said.

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Dont blush, kiddo. I think youre personally

upping Mr. Hammersfeld the Sevenths grade, cramming
all that hands-on tactics into his life. Hes a strategy boy if
Ive ever seen one. He likes his plans long-term and
infallible. Rhones snorted.
Best there is, though, said Jack loyally.
I wouldnt say best, said Rhones. He shows
promise, I suppose, if he learns to let some of the details
go.
You dont know him very well, I think, said
Jack. They talked a bit more about the book Rhones had
lent him, and then Jack headed up to his room. Jack
paused for a moment when he opened the dorm room
door.
Rupert was sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Laney had taken over Jacks desk again, quizzing Rupert
on his Command Histories midterm and Grey onit
appeared to be on whatever crossed her mind. Grey was
answering most of them, and making funny faces at the
ones he couldnt.
A mission from Sez? Jack asked as he shut the
door. Or are we just friendly tonight?
Rupert glanced over at him. Ah, sorry. I dropped
by but you werent here. Grey said youd be back
eventually
Oh shush, Rupe, said Laney crossly. Youre
welcome here. This is called friendship. Calm down, get
used to it.
Thank you for telling him hes welcome in my
room, Lane, said Jack. But Rupert, shes right. Its
okay.
Theres a bit of a gremlin infestation in a spoon
factory, said Rupert. But nothing urgent. I just got a
little tired of studying.

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Laney hefted the notes shed apparently stolen

from him. Studying with us is more fun, though, isnt
it?
A bit, he admitted.
Grey, getting up to grab a new book, stopped,
putting one hand up against the wall. He was nearly as
pale as he had been in the slavers basement. Grey? said
Jack.
Aftereffects? said Laney. Frombefore?
Grey shook his head. You should probably get to
the infirmary, Miss Jones, he said.
Me? she said. But youre She clammed up,
glancing sidelong at Rupert.
But Rupert was already standing. Elsewhere
storm? he said.
How did you? said Jack.
Laney blanched and fanned herself. Er, yes, Im
feeling quite ill.
Rupert blinked, and looked around slowly at them
all. Because Greys a mage? They all stared back. That
wasntobvious?
Laney laughed. Remember when we talked about
the fact that you pay attention?
But why arent you ill? he said, puzzled.
I She opened her mouth around the lie, then
closed it. Thats a long story. Do you want to hear it?
You need to get to the infirmary, Laney, first,
said Grey.
She turned to the smaller boy. But youre the one
whos sick!
Theres only one mage in this room, right,
Lane? Grey said, grinning tautly at her. If you dont
head down to the infirmary and look ill, someones going
to be suspicious. Its an Elsewhere storm. Hint: it feels
like someones got fish hooks in your stomach and
pancreas respectively and is yanking.

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Getting you taken care of first, pipsqueak, before

I go put on a show, she said, and started moving books
and pens off the comforter.
Dont touch those. I have a system! he
protested.
Grey, maybe you should go down there, too,
said Jack. Nurse can help.
Grey shook his head. This aint my first rodeo,
Farris. Ill live.
Youre sure?
When he nodded, Jack plucked the small boy from
the wall like he was a glass statue and put him under the
covers Laney had pulled back. They pulled the blankets
up to his chin and Jack stacked pillows behind him. After
some argument, Jack went down to help Nurse with the
other mages, as he did whenever a storm struck.
Rupert sidled in, supposedly counting blankets for
a supply requisition, and snuck away with a mug from the
first batch of numb tea. He left it steaming and sugared in
Greys hands. He or Jack each crept back hourly to refill
it from the latest batch in the infirmary. Laney sat bundled
up in the infirmary amongst her miserable colleagues,
sipping tea that hurt her more than helped her, and
watched them go.
The tea left Grey blissed out and shaky for the rest
of the day. I feel like Im wrapped in cotton, Grey
confided that night, after he scattered a cup full of pens all
over the floor by misjudging the distance between his
hand and the cup.
Do you really use your Elsewhere sense that
much? Jack asked, collecting the pens while Grey
smoothed shaking fingers over the open pages of
Heraldry for Dunces: An Advanced Guide.
Grey shrugged jerkily. Its there. I cant see it
no light or anything, Im not a seerbut I can feel

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everything glowing. Its kind of hard to ignore. Which

makes it kind of hard not to rely on.
No, no, theres nothing wrong with using the
advantages you have, said Jack. Its He waded
through memory. Its what you do with your hands, not
their shape. Its what you build and what you save.
Its not like Ive just got six fingers or
something!
No, said Jack. That would be cool. Grey
looked over at him and then his young face split into a
smile. Jack grinned back and handed him his pens.
Life moved slowly back to normal; it was an odd
sort of normal to begin with, admittedly. Grey was still an
exuberantly obnoxious know-it-all. Laney whipped
entanglement spells at gremlins and they shone every bit
as bright as any born mages.
Rupert started coming around Jack and Greys
room more often, and not only to call Jack to battle. He
sat cross-legged on the floor and Rupert told them stories
about his travels with his archaeologist motherdown
into the desert, up to foggy mountains full of ruined
castles, to the old temples on the coastand what it had
been like growing up watching generations of future
legends fumble through adolescent mishaps.
Grey started researching how to construct a ward
circle that would let him be within thirty feet of Laney
when she opened a port to the Elsewhere. He was
brimming with questions and ideas for experiments.
Laney wasnt interested in running off to an isolated
space, following his annoyingly precise instructions, and
then running back to report. Grey was similarly
uninterested in not being able to observe the proceedings
personally. They bickered happily under Jack and
Ruperts amused eye.
Life outside those new revelations continued as
well. Rupert sent a care package to his mother, who was

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on a dig in the desert. Shed sent him a package a week

before.
So, said Jack. She sends you candy, a sketch of
an ancient and rather racy bit of pottery, and a new set of
lock picks. And you send her sunblock, vitamins, and a
reminder to hydrate?
Thats a succinct description of our relationship,
yes.
A week after the lessons had been forcibly
disbanded, Red and Leaf organized a meeting for the
stable loft gangthey werent meeting in the loft
anymore, of course, but Gloria called them that and it
stuck.
The stable fight had a different effect than the
bullies had intended. It got Heads to ban the group from
meeting, but it also brought them to the attention of the
rest of the school. Sages, mages, and more guides started
showing uppeople Jack and his friends had barely
exchanged two words with before. They didnt always
come, and they didnt always come back, but there was
almost always a few curious faces outside of the original
group.
One day the face was familiar, and hesitant:
Weedss. But Weedss companions arrival was almost as
surprising as hisa blue and silver armband circled his
bicep. Hi guys, Weeds said, timorous, standing on the
edge of their little clearing.
Gloria and Clark caught him in an engulfing twoway hug. Heather patted his arm in friendly welcome.
Thanks, he whispered.
The hero hed brought shifted behind him, eyeing
Weedss welcome with mixed amusement and approval.
Red nodded recognition at him.
This is Bradley, Weeds said. My roommate. He
heard I was involved withthis, and got the whole story
out of me the other day. He wants to help.

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And apologize, Bradley said.

Youve never bullied anyone, said Weeds hotly.
No, but I didnt stop them. And Id like to
apologize for my classmates, who should know better.
You specialize in long-range combat, dont
you? said Red.
And a little grappling, said Bradley.
Jack laughed. You like hitting the far edges of the
spectrum, dont you? Bradley grinned back.
Youre going to want to talk to Laney, said Red.
And theres this little sage named Jemma who stops by
now and then; I think shes got a hankering for close
combat of that sort
They started splitting up; the group was getting
too big to practice without drawing attention to itself. Red
led one; Jack another. Leaf, who had come a long way
since the beginning of the year, Bradley, and Rupert
helped teachLaney and Gloria taught marksmanship
now and then.
One day another unexpected face showed up, this
time at their breakfast table. The stable loft gang didnt
always sit together, certainlythey were a rather
unwieldy groupbut Jack had dropped his book bag next
Leaf and Red that morning. Grey nibbled an apple to the
side, paging through a history of golems, and ignoring his
classmate Gloria when she chattered away at him.
Clem? said Jack, to the red-banded young man
sliding into the seat across from him. Clements leg
wound from the gunman in Sallys shop had healed up
nicely. Hed rejoined general practices awhile back;
though it looked like he might have to repeat at least a
semester to make up for what he missed.
I heard about the extra lessons you guys are
holding, said Clement.
Is this a threat? Jack eyed the table that held one
of the largest bully-infested groups. They came searching

209

through the grounds in packs sometimes, at night, looking

for a class full of rookies to bruise.
No, no! I think its really cool, what youre
doing.
Jack snapped his gaze back to Clem. Really?
This wasnt really what hed been expecting from his
posturing fifth study group member.
Yeah. I was wondering if I could help. And I was
wondering if maybe one of the sages could teach me?
Teach you what?
Math, Clem said, shy. Glorias head snapped up.
My nanny taught me some, before I came to Academy,
but we specs arent supposed to waste time on book
learning.
What kind of math did you get to? Gloria asked.
More than arithmetic?
Calculus, he said.
Calculus?
A bit of multivariable, Clem said. And wed do
a little number theory on rainy days. I miss it, you know?
Number theory, she said lightly. Oh, ha, yeah.
Wow. Um, Ive got a couple bookswhenre your free
periods?
Pigeons among the students kept Heads informed
that the fighting lessons hadnt stopped. Everyone in the
main stable loft gang got better at lying. Rupert, as
promised, warned them about surprise raids, and made
sure everyone stayed hydrated during practice.
Mr. Thorne also kept up to date on the groups
movements. His sources were better than Heads. When
he sat in his office, considering the phenomenon,
Thornes thoughts were less oppositional and more
curious.
Sparks fainted in the middle of casting, Laney
reported sourly to Jack one day, sliding onto a sickroom

210

cot and doing her best to look pale and nauseous. The
whole class gets a field trip; they know were all about to
follow his lead.
The rest of the sickroom thrummed with anxious
mages waiting for the Elsewhere sickness to strike, and
the couple lucky ducks who were powerful enough to
have gone weak and nauseous right along with Sparks.
Grey had slipped out of Structural Theory twenty
minutes ago and gone up to his room to shake.
And they'd rather Nurse and I get stuck cleaning
the floor here than them having to do it in the mages
dungeons.
Laney twisted a face in wry agreement.
They dragged me out of World Cultures for this,
you know, said Jack and Laney laughed before she
remembered she was supposed to be miserably
uncomfortable.
You mean, Nurse sent a note to Leaf, who ran off
to grab you out of the rafters of the Tactics classroom.
Well, Jack said. He had a tray of mugs full of
the dark and numbing tea that would stave off the worst
symptoms of an Elsewhere storm; hed already hidden a
stash in his room for Grey.
Jack passed her a steaming cup with a blue handle.
Laney grimaced, hating the brew that bereft her of what
little sensitivity she had, until she tasted chamomile on
her tongue.
Laney sat back, sipping slowly. Jack, she said.
Jack, who had been rising, sat back down and raised his
brows in amiable curiosity. In the basement of that
warehouse, with Grey, you turned around from that door
like you were expecting someone else to be behind you.
Jack turned one of the mugs on his tray with a
long finger. Well, we normally have Rupert with us
when we get into trouble.
Can Rupert pick locks?

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Yeahhis mom taught him; called it a family

bonding experience. Remember that story about them
breaking into whatever it was? You know, why she cant
do digs near St. Johns Port anymore. He stood. I have
to get these to the other mages, said Jack.
Laney sipped her tea, quiet. She said into the
steaming liquid, He told us that story after we met the
slavers. Who were you expecting to see?
Between the stable loft lessons in the gardens, his
own classwork, and the ruckus Jack, Laney, and Rupert
got into in Rivertown, Jack barely had a moment to sit
and think (let alone relax). There were several things he
wanted to think aboutThorne and his recruitment, the
new knowledge that Grey was a mageand Laney
wasnt. Greyd finished a rudimentary ward design this
last week, for doing experiments with Laney, though even
his newest ward still started leaking after about a half
hour.
But the other thing on Jacks mind was one he
shared with most of the Academywinter holidays were
coming up.
Whatre you doing?
Writing home. Letting them know Ill be by in
the winter. Jack looked up. Grey was sorting books on
his haphazard desk. You going home for the holiday?
Jack asked, and then felt like biting his tongue off. Like
Jack, Greyd never gone home for a holiday before.
Knowing now that the boy was another magical refugee
from the mountainsit made a lot more sense.
Im thinking no, said Grey, voice heaping with
carelessness. Dad and I dont really get along.
Oh? said Jack.
Grey shrugged. Wants me to go into the family
business He smoothed his hands over his quilt, and
said lightly, Mining, of all things. He snorted.

212

Specializes in Elsewhere cracks, too; Im about as useful

as a canaryit drops over dead when poison gases reach
a certain level; I drop over wibbly and nauseous when
were close to the goodies. He flipped open a book,
flipped it shut. Not really my cup of tea.
Does your dad know?
About me? said Grey. He waggled his fingers.
No. He just thought I was a wimp. Afraid ofcave-ins, I
dont know.
Did anyone know? said Jack. Who got you
out? Did you have to escape that place alone?
My sister knew, said Grey. My older sister.
She took care of me, before Mom died, and after. And her
boyfriendbest friendtheyre complicated. I think he
knew, too. But the safest secret is one nobody knows,
right?
Loneliest too, said Jack.
Well, I got you and Laney and Rupert, now,
dont I?
Yeah, said Jack. You do.
Grey grabbed a book and dove for his bed, shifting
papers and pulling his comforter close.
Hey, Grey, said Jack. You want to come home
with me for the holiday?
Grey stared at him over the top of a book. Jack
shrugged. Well, said Grey. I suppose it beats staying
here.
Youre such a charmer, Grey.
Later that night, Grey asked from the bunk below,
What do you want to be when you grow up, Jack?
Jack made a questioning noise and Grey explained
defensively, Well, they keep asking us that.
So it must be important? said Jack.
Yes, said Grey. It must be important to them,
so its worth considering.

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Youre a sneaky little squeak, you know that?

What do you want to be when you grow up, Grey?
Ive been telling them the best sage theres ever
been and then they chuckle fondly at me, because I look
like a three year old.
Five, said Jack, Surely.
Thank you, said Grey. So much. He shifted. I
want to know everything, I think thats what it is. I want
to know whats going on. What about you, Jack?
Im not sure, said Jack, thinking of Thornes
offer, thinking of a promise hed made to a girl with soft
gold curls. But I want to save people, said Jack. And if
I get put with a League? He hesitated, then admitted,
shyly, I want to be one of the Rangers.
The Northern Rangers? said Grey. The ogrebanes of the mountain country? The nightmares of all Evil
north of the ferny dells?
Think of the adventure, said Jack.
How did you hear of them? said Grey. Ive
been hearing tales for years, but Im born and bred up
there.
We hear stories down here, too, said Jack.
Grey murmured something, muffling the noise in
his pillow, and gradually drifted off.
Jack looked unfocusedly into the darkness above,
letting the silence trail off until he thought Grey was
sleeping. And I dont want to be anyones guide.
Then dont be, said Grey sleepily.

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215

Chapter Sixteen. Rain.

They spent the summer Rupert was ten in old
mountain castles, all crumbling stone and crisp air. Rupert
would dream for years of the views from the top of the
battlements. Once, they had to climb the rubble of a fallen
tower to reach what remained of their wallsbut the sight
from the top swept down from their craggy ridge to the
steep green walls of the valley below, dizzying in distance
and the clarity of thin air.
Great halls opened to the jagged sky. Spiny bushes
climbed the rounded block of an old stone throne. Orange
and green lichen went to war for the walls. Wood and
cloth had mostly rotted away, but they found fragments
and his mother recorded them all with a careful and
precise diligence that Rupert would recognize in himself,
years later. They found old iron crowns and sorted
through the rusting remains of armories.
There was a patience to it, peeling away the past
layer by layer, sifting through dust, fitting a cracked bit of
porcelain to a cracked bit of porcelain until you had a pot.
Ruperts mother liked finding things broken and forgotten
and putting them back together.
Rupert never knew his father. His mother talked
about long dead kings but never about him. When she left
her digs and her books and rejoined the politer society in
Rivertown, they would pressure her about it at parties,

216

leaning in close with flutes of champagne. Rupert is a

child, not a bag of potatoes, shed say. I dont need a
receipt.
Rupert wondered sometimes if his father had been
a man broken, a faded mosaic crumbling on one cheek,
fragments of ochre pottery shattered in his pupils. He
wondered sometimes if his mother could have fallen in
love with anyone who didnt have secrets lost in the
pattern of burn marks on their buried shin bones, old
civilizations waking on the tip of their forgotten tongue.
(Ruperts Uncle was a lot of thingsstiff, wellmeant, sturdy. He was not an affectionate man, nor
perhaps a kind one. They had had their conflicts over the
years, about Ruperts education, his friends, his city
hunts. The thing that most convinced Rupert that his
Uncle loved him was that his disapproval, as sharp and
ever-present as it was, had never taken the form of the
word bastard).
Ten had been Ruperts favorite summer. The
castle treasure room had been cleared centuries since, but
Rupert found a small cache of brass coins hidden under a
cracked tile. He ran little fingers over the carvings on
them, a head his mother said was most likely a kings and
letters she tried to teach him to translate.
They slept in bedrolls in the old halls, stars bright
and numerous above them, sharp as the shattered glass
windows in the old stone church up the hill. When it
rained, they slept under a big stone table and stayed up
late listening to the sound.
For all his life, Rupert would love the way rain
softened the edges of things over centuries. Everything
fades, in the end, everything falls, but most of all the rain,
which keeps falling, year by year, night by night, life after
lifetime.

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Chapter Seventeen. Coming Home.

The truck rolled and coughed into the spotty shade
and down the well-kept forest path. Here ye are, lads,
the driver said, pulling up to the Western Forest
Wayhouse. The pickup truck sputtered to a stop. Thats
as far as I go.
Grey hopped off open bed of the pickup. That
house goes up into the trees, he said, twisting and tilting
his head to look at the Wayhouse.
Less that than it came down from them, said the
driver. Was a time when it werent safe to stay on the
ground in the Forest. Still aint, anywhere but the edges.
Farris, said Grey. Theyre mostly constructed,
but some of those walls are grafted branches
Jack grabbed a sack of potatoes off the heaping
back of the truck. Where do you want these?
The driver grinned. Ah, thankee, lad. The
kitchens through there, ask for Willow.
Willow turned out to be a slender women imbued
with a weary, honest kindness. She directed Jack and
Greywho Jack had elbowed in passing until the boy
snatched a few strings of garlic and onions to carryto
the pantry, a dry, cool room a little below ground.
Grey wrung out his arms when they were done
and said, Ugh, what was that for?
He gave us a ride.

218

He gave us a ride. So why did we pay him in

labor?
Um, manners? said Jack.
Our guide gets back tomorrow from the mail
route, said a voice from behind themWillow, the cook.
He can take you farther then. One of our interns will
point you to our spare rooms.
Theres plenty of light, said Jack. Well just go
on, I think.
Willow swallowed protests about (1) monsters
who liked to use tall young men as toothpicks and (2)
how easy it was to get turned around when the sky was
blocked by branches. She said instead, Youre the Farris
boy, arent you?
Therere a lot of Farris boys, said Jack.
Come to your senses and coming back home?
said Willow. Jack stiffened. She smiled, but told him
gravely enough, Theyre all going to ask you that, you
know. The Forest doesnt like it when people leave.
Well, said Jack. The people certainly dont.
The path onward from the Forest Wayhouse did
not have the deep wagon rut marks that the path to it did.
It was comfortably wide enough for Jack and Grey to
walk side by side. Questing roots and embedded stone
only made the path more interesting (in Jacks opinion).
The trees grew thicker, dropping leaves on the
path. thick undergrowth twined and grew up into the
branches. It was brisk, but heavy snow did not fall
anywhere but the heights of the Green Mountains near the
center of the forest.
Well Im glad not to be stuck all holiday with old
Heads for company, said Grey, which Jack thought was
probably the only thank you he was going to get, so he
tucked it in an imaginary pocket, smiling.
Grey said, Proly woulda ended up hanging in the
dungeons with Miss Laney glaring my head off. Laney

219

was staying the holiday with her books and an empty

mages dungeon. She had spent the summer visiting her
parents and reaffirming her desires to not ever move back
home.
Laney only bites if you poke her first, said Jack.
Disproportionate retaliation, said Grey, and
sniffed. He stumbled over a root he hadnt seen because
he had been busy sniffing but Jack caught him by his
pack.
Are they all as tall as you are? asked Grey.
Your brothers? He poked at the root, glanced up at the
bows above them. Which tree do you think that one
belongs to?
A few of them, said Jack. But we have some
stocky types, too. None of them are shorter by much.
No one my size, then? said Grey mournfully.
Maybe some of the younger cousins, said Jack.
Grey stuck out his tongue. Jack said, I was your size,
until I was about seventeen.
You werent, said Grey, craning his neck to look
up at him.
It was quite a growth spurt, said Jack. The trees
were closing in above them, spiky oak leaves and a few
lingering big blushing hands of sycamore. Thick trunks
rose out of the forest mulch, their sides cracked with
hollows, their branches tangling and warring overhead.
Little yellow clusters of quaking aspen leaves stood bright
against their thin white trunks.
Are we there yet? said Grey.
Jack kicked through hands-sized leaves by the side
of the trail. Youre a mountain boy, Grey, shouldnt you
be enjoying having a nice flat place to walk for once?
I fell outta the habit, said Grey. Not m fault.
He settled his pack on his shoulders, then bounced it up
and settled it a little differently.

220

You couldve brought less books, Jack

suggested. His bag was slung over one shoulder.
No I couldnt have, said Grey. A red bird shot
through the trees and Jack laughed.
Youve got a lift spell on it, havent you?
Grey grumbled.
We should be there soon, said Jack. We
shouldthere, he said, pointing through the tree trunks.
You see that fence? Thats the beginning of Farris land.
You have a fence? said Grey. It was barely
visible, distant and pale in the green light. Arent you
supposed to live in the Wild or something, Squirrel?
Its not Wild in peoples territories, said Jack.
Thats the point. Its Wilder in some of Rivertowns
back alleys than it is in a proper family territory.
Oh, said Grey. Those keep the Things in the
Darkness out. He squinted, sniffed, then gagged. I can
smell the magic from here, jeez, whatd you do to those
things?
Theyre the heartwood of trees, said Jack. And
in the forest, they call them Shadows, not Things in the
Darkness.
Magic carved into it, too, I bet, that fence, said
Grey. Overkill, much? Well, Ill do my best to keep my
hands to myself and not screw up your wards when we
pass through. I dont think your family would appreciate
itand if theyre all as big as you
You are relying on them to feed you for the next
week, Jack said gravely. And house you in a room
where termites wont get to your books.
Hey! Threatening the books is crossing a line!
We could just take them away and not give them
back, offered Jack. Laney will help me when we get
back.
Youve discussed this as a possible contingency
plan if I go evil, havent you? said Grey glumly.

221

Rupert has an emergency response plan written

up involving how properly to take the literature hostage,
yes.
Grey snickered. And if you go evil?
They were close to the white fence, which was
nothing more than tall smooth poles staked about a mans
height apart (a normal mans, not a Farris mans). Jack
tried to imagine being able to smell the burn of magic on
the wind or having something in it pull at the core of him
in the same way gravity held him to the ground.
Jack grabbed Greys elbow and the back of his
pack and swung him between two white poles, as much of
a gate as this fence provided. He didnt drop the hand
under Greys elbow until theyd gone several more
wobbly paces and Grey had let go of his vise grip on
Jacks fingers.
If Rupert goes bad, said Grey, you realize
were all just going to die.
Yeah, said Jack. Probably.
Grey bounced his pack again, looking less pale
though Jack didnt comment on it, and Jack could hear
tomes thump inside, barely masking the creak in the tree
limb above their heads.
There was a whoop and then a crash behind them.
Grey jumped and squawked, but Jack grinned as he was
tackled from behind. The culprit was a tall, broadshouldered redhead, the skin under his mop of hair much
lighter than Jacks. He was shoe-less and freckled from
his stubby once-broken nose down to his brown toes.
Johnny-boy! said Jack, extricating himself from
the hand messing his hair. You out guarding the
frontier? Jack had adopted an over-exaggerated Forest
drawl and a wide, teasing grin.
Caught some intruders, dint I? said the older
young man, apparently named Johnny. The two redheads

222

grinned and laughed, circling each other and eyeing new

muscles and scars.
What did you do to your face? said Johnny in a
less exaggerated voice. He still drew out his rolling
vowels and swallowed parts of his words. Jack had fallen
back into that same accent since theyd stepped under the
green canopy.
Jack grinned, creasing the greening palm-sized
bruise over one cheekbone. You know me and tussles,
he said. This is Grey.
He looks like youd squish him if you didnt
watch where you stepped.
Well, watch where you step, then, said Grey. He
kept walking.
Aw, I think he likes me, said Johnny.
The two brothers caught up to Grey with little
difficulty. Johnny bounded around them with a restless
familiar energy that was winning Grey over despite
himself.
Whatd you do, eat a mountain? Johnny said.
Well have to check you against Stag, see whos tallest.
You keep sprouting, Beanstalk. Johnny caught Greys
wrinkled forehead and said, He was a skinny kid, once,
so: Beanstalk.
Hes Johnny-boy because of this song, said Jack
and Johnny scowled.
No, he said. I can still dunk you in the river,
kid.
Could you now? said Jack and Johnny laughed,
not unkindly, as though the question had been a joke.
Itd be a little cold for that, Jack admitted, and they
walked on.
Grey hooked his thumbs under the straps of his
pack, which were biting into his shoulders just enough to
keep people from noticing the rather strong lift spell hed
stuck on it. Books were heavy. He wasnt that big.

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Jack asked after cousins, brothers, aunts, uncles,

squirrels, neighbors and friends. Grey kicked pebbles
through the fallen leaves. The last time someone bigger
than Jack had threatened him, hed grinned at them,
freckled cheeks creasing into something dangerous, and
told them they could try.
They came upon the house after an hour of barelytrod forest path. Speed we were going, said Grey, that
was about a mile and a half. Assuming your territory can
be estimated as a circlethats about seven square miles,
then. Is that enough for all of you? He paused, looking at
Jack. Theres a lot of you, right?
Sevenths son of a sevenths son, said Jack.
Yeah, theres a few.
Weve got one of the largest territories around,
said Johnny. We couldnt handle a much larger one, you
crazy?
Grey looked at him gravely. Hm. He shifted his
pack again, looking around at the trees. So obviously
you can go gather resources outside of whats considered
your territory, he said in the manner of someone who
might be taking notes.
Oh, said Jack. I forgot He told his brother,
In the mountains, thats where Greys from, borders are
wider. All the valleys are owned by someoneand all the
passespretty much anywhere a person can live has got a
name attached to it. Just peaks and some high caves are
considered unclaimed.
Johnny whistled. They can hold that much land?
Theyve got to know some tricks we dontor is it too
cold for Shadows there?
They dont have to hold it, said Jack. Theyve
got walled citiesfortresses even, some of them, and they
hold those. They build roads, and the people who take the
roads are responsible for themselves until they reach the
next town.

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Its not their territory, not if theyre not keeping it

safe, said Johnny.
Thats what its called, said Jack. Just, Grey,
dont go around calling anyones territory small. Its a
pride thing.
Oh, boy, said Grey. My favorite.
Grey looked up at the house they had come upon,
the Rambly House of the last six generations of Farrises.
It climbed up into the trees, or down from them, as the
Wayhouse had at the edge of the forest. A round turret
almost like a castles stuck out from one wall, elsewhere
stairs wound around tree trunks. A chimney rose out of a
wide ground floor brick section of the house, but the rest
of the branching and climbing rooms were wood, either in
the form of planks, beams, or twisted, living branches.
Brightly painted shutters dotted the walls haphazardly.
Out of one of the shutters, a freckly brunette (this
one a girl) gaped and then grinned. Its Jack! Hes
home!
You out of braids, Tessa? Jack called, and she
flew out of the windowthrough the window. Grey
sighed, rolled his eyes. Yes, she was certainly related to
his friendand then the rest of the house exploded
outward, door and windows thrown open, and the Farrises
charged.
The girl from the window launched herself at
Jack, who swung her around, and then waded through the
crowd, ruffling the younger children, who looked thrilled
or confused, depending on how old they had been when
he had left.
Grey couldnt tell them apart, but Jack greeted
them by name and grin. Grey was keeping close to Jacks
back. While this was unfortunately also the center of the
crowd, it was as close as he could get to a safe space.
Hey, there, Tess, whend you sprout into a lady,
eh? Jack said to the girl from the window. Tessa grinned

225

up at him, but a boy who looked to be about ten

catapulted into Jacks other side. The adults had come
behind the gaggle of children in a slightly more stately
manner. Jack stood amidst the seething mess of shouting
children, half of whom were deeply enthusiastic to see
their cousin, and half who had been too young to
remember him leaving, and smiled at the approaching
uncles and aunts.
Not all redheads, muttered Grey, eyeing grey
beards and black braids and short hair colored like wheat.
Their skin ran a wide range too, from very pale to as deep
and warm a brown as Leafs. No one was as dark as
Laney. They were all freckled, down to the youngest
child.
No ones ever as monochrome as you might think
them, said Jack. Hey, Grey, theyve all got names, too.
Grey made a face. Hey, if you can memorize all those
book titles, not to mention the things inside them
A kid shrieked and Grey shrank closer to Jacks
side. The uncle with the greyest beard offered a hand and
Jack reached out and took it, while around them, children
called shrilly, Where have you been? Didja have
adventures? Did you save any princesses? Didja kill
any dragons? Ew, princesses.
Youre certainly tall, Jack, said the uncle, which
in some way said, Welcome home. Your fathers out
visiting the Hildebrands. We didnt know you would
reach us today. He should be back by tomorrow.
Jack could tell from the way Grey stepped back,
keeping close to Jacks shadow, head turning, that he was
counting relations. Jack could imagine the report he could
give later, all numbers and groups organized by obscure
variable (eight males with more freckles on their left hand
than right) and comments along the lines of, Squirrel,
you sure youre not secretly a family of rabbits?

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And who have you brought into our territory?

said the uncle, an oddly stiff rumble in his voice that
didnt seem to bother Jack. He looked surprised, as
though he had forgotten an old hobby and been reminded.
A vouchsafe friend, said Jack, the words dusty
and unused in his mouth. This is Sanders Grey. He
comes neither in the name of fire or Shadow.
Grey whistled. That sounded formal. Youre
going to have to give me a short lecture on Forest
etiquette and territory customs later. The Farrises glances
at him quizzically.
Jack almost said, Hes a sage, but realized that
that common apology would mean nothing here among
these trees.
Jack shook each uncles hand, and each aunts, the
right of a Farris boy coming home older than when he had
left. He gently pulled the braids of the younger cousins
and made his steady way through the crowd. Grey crept
behind him, unsure why Jack was going but pleased to be
moving farther away from the center of chaos. Motives
became clearer when Jack reached the edge of the ruckus,
where a small woman with a thick black braid stood, her
brown hands bundled in her apron against the cold.
Jack stopped in front of her and said, Im home,
and she had to look up and up and up to meet his eyes.
Oh, she said, smiling so wide Grey was afraid
something might crack. I was so hoping to have one son
my size.
Mother, said Jack, and hugged her so hard he
picked her up off the leaf-strewn ground.
After that it was a series of chaos and
introductions. There were indeed the promised six
brothers and six uncles. There were cousins of various
shapes and sizes and temperaments. One who Jack
remembered most vividly running about the house
shrieking and pounding walls now stayed shyly to the

227

edge of the room, familiar ink stains on his fingers. Tessa,

the girl from the window, had the same sly grin Jack
remembered, but at least another foot in height and an
unconscious and ignored grace he couldnt parse with his
recollections of her as a gangly child.
The younger children he remembered as infants or
taut curves in the bellies of his aunts. Three kids had been
born since he had left; one, he saw as he entered the wide
warm space of the dining room, was handed back to his
mother, reaching up to grab her thick braid.
Jack found himself slipping along the rooms wall,
some mix of long-ago learned ability of how to navigate
this space, and the new knowledge of a young man used
to keeping his back to the wall. Is that? he said and his
mother said, You could come home more often, you
know.
You could write about things like this! he said
and held out his little finger for the eighth brother of his
family to grasp.
We didnt have an address for you, until this last
letter, saying you were coming home.
Oh, said Jack.
And anyway, Jacks mother said, jostling the
baby a little until he gurgled at her. His name is
Octavian, she said, eyes glinting, and Grey snickered.
Nontavian next, maybe? the sage said and
Jacks mother smiled at him. Jack! said Grey. You
never said your mother read.
Some, she said. Mostly I like a little word play,
and his father hardly notices, so I get away with quite a
lot. Ask Jack about his middle name sometime.
Dont, actually, said Jack.
Thick, doughy bread, a pot of some sort of sweet
roasted vegetable mush, and several haunches of smoked
meat made the evening meal, which the newcomers had

228

apparently interrupted. Bread, said Grey. That means

flour, and I dont see any wheat fields
Jack said, his mouth full of aforementioned bread,
Go down to the Wayhouse every couple months, haul
big bags of it home.
Jack was drinking in the chaos, closer and smaller
and louder than the din of the Academy dining hall, more
familiar than the press of Rivertowns streets. Hed tried
to sit in a cornerwell, one over from a corner so Grey
could have a wall to one side of himin hopes that he
could listen and sit for a bit before he became the brief
center of attention, but it was a hopeless task.
Tessa scooted up beside him and demanded
princess-rescuing lessons, in order to save them from the
indignities of being rescued by a prince. His brothers
pestered him for stories, and showed him new scars and
new tricksGideon had moved from flute to guitar,
tapping a secondary rhythm on the wooden frame. Grey
noticed, though Jack didnt, that while his brothers asked
to hear of his adventures, they didnt press harder or scent
the lie when Jack said he hadnt much to tell.
They all sat around the long rough table. The
younger kids had collected on the oddball collection of
stools and overturned buckets and shelves arrayed around
them. Spoons banged bowls. Heels kicked walls and
benches. The room was warm and wooden, with at least
six crooked doors and one trapdoor all hanging open.
Grey tried to peer past the warmth and noise to the secrets
that lay beyond.
Down the table, an uncle asked, And what sort of
hero are you, boy?
A sage, said Grey, guiltily startled out of his
casing of the house. He smiled sweetly. Im going to be
a librarian when I grow up.
Well then, said the uncle. Jack hid a smirk.

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Oy Beanstalk! called a cousin. You found a

friend smaller than you were!
Yeah, but hes scarier than you are, Barney, so I
wouldnt push it.
Him? snorted the cousin and Jack grinned, sharp
and fey and dangerous, the first grin of the kind Grey had
seen since theyd passed the Wayhouse, and said, Yep.
I only bite when provoked, muttered Grey, and
they kept the questions to Jack.
When theyd finished, Jack took his bowl and
spoon to the tub in the kitchen one of the girls would drag
down to the river in the morning. He poked Grey as he
went, so Grey managed to pick up his and follow, too,
without getting lost in wondering what was down all the
open hallways and up the trap door.
In the kitchen, beside big cast iron pots and an old
brick oven, Jack felt a light touch on his elbow and looked
down (it felt odd to be looking down) at his mother. Shed
left Oct on Tessas lap. He let her bring him and Grey
quietly out the back door, out into a starlit space scented
by old leaves.
Welcome home, Jack, his mother said. Her face
was small and round, her hair dark and coarse. Jack had
inherited the coarseness of her hair, the curve of her ears,
more of her warm brown pigment than any of his
brothers, and something about the way her grin could go
fey when prompted properly.
I didnt know you and Father were thinking about
having more children, said Jack, still digesting the idea
of no longer being the youngest.
I like children, said his mother. And sevens a
good number to have around.
Jack stiffened. Grey glanced between them.
Sweetheart, she said, I didnt mean it like that.
I would be lying if I said I ever expected you to come
home for good. Jack turned to her, somewhere between

230

wounded and guilty. She laid a small hand on his cheek

and smiled. You are my beautiful son, but you were
restless even in my belly. Love, I never expected to be
allowed to keep you.
Im notIm not just running, said Jack. He
didnt quite know what he meant by that, but his mother
smiled.
None of your brothers had the need you do to be
part of something greater than yourself. They love the
hunt; or they love to whittle, or sing, or build. And those
are beautiful things. A well-built home or a well-sung
story are worth a lifetime. But that is not where your soul
lies, my Jack. They all love to come home at the end of
the adventure. You are not a builder, and you do not sink
your roots deep in the soil.
Grey was oblivious to many things, but he drew
back from this conversation. He found an interesting pine
cone, and traced the spike of each bristle.
I am proud of all my sons, said Jacks mother.
You all love each other, for which I have always been
thankful. But you, my son, you want to touch the lives of
people youve never met. How could I ask you to stay,
here in this place where you know all our names? Where
we keep our home safe behind fences of heartwood?
Dont you dare feel guilty for following your heart.
But if you need me here, said Jack.
We dont need you, said his mother. And even
if we did, youre a person, not a plot of land. Its not our
place to own you, or think we do. We dont need you, not
as much as you are needed elsewhere.
Why do you think Im needed anywhere? said
Jack.
You keep looking over your shoulder, said his
mother. Now, come. We must be sociable with your
guest.

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Its dark out here, said Grey. What if

something eats us?
Dont worry, little mage, said Jacks mother.
You light the scene all on your own.
Grey froze. Jack, he said. You never said your
mother was a seer.
Shes not, said Jack, and then his mothers
words sank in. Are you? he said.
Sometimes, she said. Its from my fathers side
of the family, in the terraced farms of the Green Mountain
valleys. And your friend here has so bright a mages fire
in him Im surprised he doesnt split the world merely by
existing.
Sometimes it tries to split him, said Jack, at
which Grey squawked a protest. Youre a seer?
Sometimes, like I said. Im best at lines of fate,
she said.
Grey blew dismissively. No such thing as fate.
Cause and effect only works forward in time.
Grey, said Jack.
I dont care if shes your mother, said Grey.
Shes wrong, and anyway she just outed me in front of
somebody who might not have known a secret I obviously
wasnt sharing. Not too concerned with not stepping on
her toes.
Jacks mother smiled at him, and Grey stared back
uncomfortably at the woman who was looking very
pleased for someone who had just been insulted. Not
fate, then, she said. The things that matter the most to
us are made to matter to the unseen things in the world as
well. There is a light that clings to peoples hopes and
loves, fears and failures, and that is what I see. She
twisted her face in something a little like rue and said, I
cannot see mages who are merely sparks, or even candle
flames, she said. But you are something else, Grey.
So Ive been told, rarely by flatterers, said Grey.

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In the Forest, we have a saying, said Jacks

mother. When you bring a guest into the safety of a
territorys heartwoods, you vouch for their goodness.
Neither of fire nor of shadow, said Grey.
You are of fire, said Jacks mother. Have a
care with what you choose to burn.
Not going to kick me out of your land? said
Grey, who was torn between being sick of being
considered harmless and being sick of being considered
someone who might hurt the world by accident.
No, she said. I think its time for bed, dont
both of you? They moved closer to the house, Jacks
long legs taking him ahead of the two smaller figures.
Why not? said Grey.
She sighed, and answered, because while she
could see many answers on the wind, she did not know
exactly how good her sons ears were. She thought Jack
was out of earshot. She said quietly, My youngest has
always been a destroyer, and not a builder, for all his
gentle heart. He is of fire as well, and for all of the fears
that I do have, I am still glad that he has found a friend
even he cannot set alight.
Jack would never hurt anyone, said Grey.
Jack would hurt everything, if he thought it was
the right thing to do.
Jack waited for them by the open door, warmth
rolling out into the night, and tried not to let the sudden
chill screaming down his spine show on his face. He
kissed his mother on the cheek and then showed Grey up
to one of the rooms grown from woven branches. He
curled up in a cot while Grey poked at craftsmanship and
muttered approvingly about grafting.
Eventually Grey went to sleep and Jack rolled
over, looking up at the sculpted ceiling, and thought about
how someone had spent their life on this room, coaxing
branches into their proper shapes, and how that someone

233

had gone to bed each night knowing there was something

more and better in the world for him having been in it.
Jacks father came home the next day, which Jack
was first made aware of via the thud of an opening door
and the massive bear-hug that swallowed him
immediately afterwards. Jack my boy! said Jacks
father, and Grey slid as far down the bench as he could.
He wasnt one for bear hugs.
Jacks father was a man shaped like a barrel. He
had all of Jacks height, but also the shoulders and girth
Jack was still lacking and didnt seem likely to inherit
anytime soon. While Jacks mother had his most
dangerous smile, his father had Jacks widest, the one
Grey secretly thought of as spitting sunshine directly into
peoples faces should be a crime.
They spent a couple days stomping about the
grounds. Jack helped out with some fence maintenance
while Grey wisely declined and explored the house
instead. Mealtimes were raucous, all three taken in the
large but still not quite large enough dining room at the
sound of a struck metal triangle.
Tessa demanded stories and lessons continuously,
even poking at Grey until she realized he was useless but
for book learning. I know its smart, she said when Jack
and Jacks mother gave her joint disapproving looks at the
comment. And useful and all and you need it, but thats
what Ive got Hansel for, see, she said, and poked her
cousin in the shoulder. Its called delegating.
There was another hunt the next day, stocking up
on meat before what winter snows there were in the
Forest managed to come and send the animals skittering
and scarce. Some of the boys took pleasure in week-long
hunting trips, snow camping, and frigid nights, but most
of them preferred to have enough smoked jerky to last
until the warm end of the spring thaws.

234

No, said Grey, when he was asked to come

along. At a glance from Jack he added, No, thank you.
Jacks father clapped his shoulder. A mans
work, son. You go to that Heros Academy, dont you?
Come on, come earn your stripes.
No, said Grey. He smacked Jack lightly in the
arm in a good luck and a farewell and went off to find his
book bag.
Huh, said Jacks father. Did I say something?
No, that was pretty characteristic, said Jack
cheerfully.
Hm, said his father. They were all used to Jack
being cheerful, had seen him grinning over a muddrenched tunic after a fall, or from behind a bloody nose,
or into the teeth of a cousins wrath if he didnt think it
was earned. They werent used to seeing it from quite this
high up.
A few of the cousins gave whoops and charged for
the underbrush. Jack gave chase until they got far enough
from the Rambly House that theyd passed the fence
itself. Then he let them streak off further into the distance
and listened to the Forest noises close in around him, lost
but not forgotten.
Jack found himself in a quiet thicket, an hour or so
in. The other brothers, uncles, and cousins had gone off in
some wild splintering of half-wrestling matches. A few
had disappeared more quietly and more quickly, trying to
get far enough away from the rambunctious majority in
order to do some real hunting.
Jack made his way to a little patch of stream and
tucked himself into the hollows of an old bush by water.
Hed settled down to the creak and chatter of the Forest
again, the sunlight through the leaves, when his father
crouched in beside him with his crossbow cocked and a
smile under his bushy red beard.

235

They exchanged quiet grunts of hello; Jack was

torn about being upset that his quiet communion with the
Forest was gone. Communion with family was the reason
hed come home. The pine above them creaked. A red
bird shot through the branches. The Forest was family,
too, though, and hed wanted a private welcome home.
To his surprise, his father sat down quietly and the
afternoon fell back into untouched Forest noise. Jack got
milky sap on one palm from their bush. The red bird
chittered competition at a friend, high in the branches. His
father sat, bow on one knee and listened, as quietly intent
as Grey with an old manuscript.
It stayed quiet long enough that Jack could feel the
birdsong and the smell of crushed greenery seeping into
him like the soft dirt ingraining itself into the ridges on
the bottoms of his feet. He loosed a content little sigh.
Im a youngest son, too.
Jack turned his head at the sudden sentence. It
didnt feel sudden. The words were carefully spaced and
quiet, his fathers eyes on him, as thought hed been
weighing them and waiting for a lull in bird chatter. I
know, Jack said slowly.
I know how it is, said his father, trying to
explain. No matter how tall you get, youll always be the
littlest. But they dont matter, Jack, not when it comes to
you.
I know, he said. Jack flexed his hands on his
knees. Im a lot bigger than I was when I left.
Height wasnt quite what I meant, said his
father.
Me either, said Jack. What did you mean?
Its your life, I mean, I suppose, he said,
scratching a bristling red beard. Jack could see where
little patches were missing. Seven pairs of tiny hands had
yanked at it over the years, and now there was an eighth.
His dad always laughed, hed been told (and he thought,

236

maybe, just barely, remembered), always laughed and

said, Good strong Farris grip there.
Now his father dropped his hand and said,
Doesnt matter if they call you littlest. Youre as big as
you want to be, or as big as you make yourself.
Jack turned to him. Leaves scratched his arms.
Told you I was the littlest, once, too, his father
said. Thought Id never be anything more than that.
What happened?
Found your mother, he said. I fell in love. Hard
to feel small with something that big and important in
your life.
Jack laughed. Didnt know you were such a
romantic, dad.
He rubbed at the bushy beard that grappled his
cheeks like a hoary old vine. Wrote her poetry, when we
were courting, he admitted. Still do, now and then. He
shrugged, settling broad shoulders with a shake of his
head. She loves me, the smartest and loveliest woman
Ive ever known. Together, weve raised a family. I cant
imagine feeling taller.
Are you trying to tell me I should get married?
Jack asked dubiously. Because I think Ill stick with
feeling short.
He laughed, the deep boom a ten-year-old Jack
had always hopped his own high chortle would grow up
to be. Its not about being a husband, Jack, or raising a
family. Its not that. That woman and this family is what I
fell in love with, but thats me, not you. Its the falling in
love, Jack. Thats what gives you meaning and makes you
stand tall. Its finding something worth building. Light
filtered down through the bushs tangled branches. What
are you in love with, Jack?
Jack nudged his father, nodding at the barest flash
of a pheasants tail feathers across the creek, and didnt
say, what if youre no good at building?

237

When they got home, a couple pheasant on each

shoulder, a stag slung across cousin Antonys, Jack found
Grey curled up in one of the front rooms with a cousin
with a long, thin face who was named Hansel. They had
five books among them and were talking with quiet, grand
excitement.
He reads, Grey announced to Jack and Hansel
blushed deeply, proud.
Yeah, we drop one of those every now and
again, said Gideon, flippant, or pipsqueak runaways
like Jack, and Jack ducked a hair ruffle from a brother a
half foot shorter than him. He didnt quite catch Greys
glare over the top of a text titled Ghouls of Marshes and
other Low Wetland Features.
Dinner was loud and grand, held in the chill
winters air outside. They roasted some of the days game
over bonfires while a selection of cousins worked on
smoking the majority of it for storage as jerky. Jack kept
close to his mother, who was keeping close to the fire,
and listened to her and Grey recount obscure academic
puns at each other as the stars grew clearer and clearer
above them.
It was late when he and Grey crawled up into the
gnarled guest room they were occupying. Grey sat on his
cot, a haphazard pile of books already piled high, though
they were only staying that one last night. Some of the
books Jack recognized as Farris lore, which meant Grey
had found the library. Probably sniffed it out without
needing any help, though the newly ink-stained cousin
Hansel might also have led him to it.
Why do you let them treat you like that? said
Grey.
Jack glanced up, startled. Like what?
Likelike you havent nearly got an Academy
license, or been running around for a year slaying Things
your brothers would be scared to face.

238

Im the littlest brother here, said Jack, thinking

that was answer enough. It didnt seem to be, so he
shrugged and tried to say it better. It doesnt matter what
adventures Ive hadweve had. Im the skinny kid that
left at fourteen knowing nothing except how to hit little
Shadows with carved heartwood and how to get dunked
in the river by my brothers.
But youre not that kid anymore, said Grey. I
dont understand.
Yeah, I am, said Jack.
Grey huffed, irritated. You arent different just
because youre back here. You didnt turn into an old
version of you when you walked back under this roof
but do you see what you act like here? What you put up
with?
Theyre my family.
Theyre bullies!
Dont, said Jack. Theyd risk their lives for me,
every one. Id fight Shadows for them.
Jack, youd fight Things for anyone, said Grey
scornfully, pretending he hadnt jumped and paled when
Jack had said sharply, Dont.
Theyre family, said Jack. They used to change
my nappies; theyre not bullies. I know bullies. Just
because you dont understand doesnt mean theres
something wrong here. Grey, you dont have to
understand everything.
Grey sniffed.
And, said Jack. I dont think Im different
because Im back here. Im me, still, always, and a part of
me is always going to be that stupid kid who left home
with a head full of heroes. When I am a feeble old
octogenarianassuming a monster doesnt catch me
first, amended Jack, Im gonna be that stupid kid.
Grey screwed up his face to disagree.

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You dont leave parts of yourself behind, said

Jack. Im the Beanstalk, the littlest Farris, two feet
shorter than everyone else. Im the one who never came
home. They tell stories about me. Im Jackwell, Im a
lot of things. He reached out a bare foot across the gap
between their cots and nudged Greys knee. Grey flicked
him an unconvinced look. Im your roommate, Grey. Im
a guidethey gave me an armband that said so. Grey
snorted and Jack went on, Im troublea friend told me
so the first day I met him. Im an enemy of the Things in
the Darkness. Im every mistake Ive ever made, and Im
every victory. You dont get to forget where youve been,
Grey. You get to build on it, learn new things; but you
dont ever get to forget.
People can change, said Grey. People can
forget. They can grow into new things. Youre not a kid
anymore, Jack. If your brothers tried, they wouldnt be
able to dump you in the river.
Theyre six of them, said Jack. Im bigger than
I used to be, and I know better than they how to handle
myself in a melee fight, but six could take me easy.
Not easy, said Grey.
Jack lifted his head and looked at Grey, who
looked stubbornly back.
Anyway, said Grey. Doesnt matter if you can
take six or not. I can, and Im not letting anyone dump
you in rivers, Jack.
Grey
My sister told me my mother used to laugh, said
Grey. All I remember is her all dolled up in lacey
nightgowns, pale and kinda weepy. She wasnt useful,
wasnt helpfulshe wasnt there. She wasnt building on
that, Jack. She broke. You grew. Stop feeling sorry for
yourself. You dont put up with bullies in the Academy.
Dont do it here.
Theyre family, said Jack. Not bullies.

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Sure, said Grey. A flash of gold caught Jacks

eyea sparking, writhing shimmer of gold circled Greys
wrist and then vanished. Jack realized hed been sparking
for quite awhile and that his face was pale, the skin tight
across his cheekbones.
Grey?
Im going to go for a walk. He pushed stiffly off
the table.
Therere some dangerous things out there, said
Jack. The Shadows
Just Things in the Darkness, said Grey. Yeah, I
know. I read. His tone was like a slammed door.
Dont get eaten, said Jack.
Grey flicked his fingers, shaking off a stray static
spark of gold. Ill be fine, he said. Im good at that.
Jack was in bed, eyes closed, before Grey crawled
back up through the trap door and bundled under the
blankets of his own cot. It had been difficult to fall asleep
before then, because for all Jack knew that Grey could
burn the world if he wanted to, he was still a skinny kid
who barely came up to Jacks ribcage, who got ink stains
on his nose with hilarious regularity, and who got twitchy
in crowds.
Jack woke up to bird song and the reverberating
clang of the breakfast triangle. He snatched at Greys
covers to help wake him and flew down the trap door
towards a rapidly vanishing breakfast. When Grey
trudged down, five minutes later, there was nothing but a
few pastries left, being fought over by wide-awake
Farrises. Oh, said Grey. Joy. He walked into the
room, eyed the seething, hungry mass, and decided he
could do without breakfast.
Walk? said Jack, and Grey shrugged, but Jack
had learned a year ago the sideways flick of eyes that
meant Grey was starting to feel like he needed to escape.
It was a cold morning, fingers of fog finding their way

241

over ridges and valleys of fallen leaves. Jack placed his

steps on open patches of dirt, the moist spots of leaves
that would give instead of crackle, on the more solid of
the roots that rose out of the mulch. Grey walked behind
him, feet smacking the ground, snapping twigs and
shattering the morning silence. A Forest-born five-yearold wouldnt have been half as noisy as that. There was
something to be said for the sanctity of peace and silence
on a winters morning, but Jack found that in the cold and
drifting mist he liked the solid and crackling evidence of a
living body walking next to him.
Jack grinned at him and Grey, startled, didnt grin
back. What?
Never have to worry about you sneaking up on
me, do I?
Grey kicked a twig at him. Too early for that,
Farris. Hasnt anyone in this big pile of leaves heard of
coffee?
Jack shrugged. Threat of getting to breakfast after
all the foods gone is enough. Grey snorted. Jack ran his
fingers along the bark of the trees they passed and
brushed his palm over damp moss and dripping leaves.
The trees had grown, too, since he had walked out
through the fence with a stick tied with a polka-dot parcel
tossed over his shoulder. The trail that had wandered
around the west side of a tall pine now meandered east. It
still ended up at the same river crossing, but Jack went
around the west side all the same.
Jack realized that he hadnt heard footsteps behind
him for the last few minutes, let alone the rattling of dry
leaves sent flying by unskilled boots. He glanced over his
shoulderbehind him, Grey walked with fierce
concentration on his face. Before he bumped into the back
of Jack, he looked up and saw him staring. Grey grinned.
Librarian, right? said Grey. Dont want to
startle the books.

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Jack snorted, and they moved on.

Dont you have bridges? said Grey.
Jack pointed. Rounded dark stones stood out of
the water, driftwood caught between them and moss
growing up their sides.
Thats not a bridge, said Grey.
We let the littles use those, said Jack. Once
youre tall enough, you just leap.
Grey grumbled at him, something about
backwoods barbarians, and wobbled his way from stone
to stone. What happens when it floods? he demanded.
Theres got to be snowmelt from those little hills of
yours in the spring.
The Green Mountains? said Jack.
Hills, said Grey. Theyre hills.
Jack turned eastward, peering through the foliage
to get a glimpse of green and grey cliffs a half-days
journey away, and stared for a long moment. Youre
right, he said quietly. Theyre hills.
Across the creek, it was three sycamores, two
oaks, a stand of quaking aspens, and the stump of a young
pine that had been standing when Jack had left home,
before they reached his destination. He strode out into the
clearing, turned three times, and sat on a damp patch of
dirt. Grey came up beside him, eyed the space next to him
dubiously, then thumped down in the sparse grass
himself. Well? he said.
A walk, said Jack cheerfully, and handed Grey a
chunk of fruit-stuffed bread.
Grey took a bite. A walk, he repeated.
And it was getting a little crowded in there, Jack
said. He worked a few crumbs off of his half of the bread
and tossed it across the clearing to the base of a cluster of
berry bushes.
Crowded, said Grey. Thats a word for it. But
why here? The trees stood in a lopsided circle around

243

them, one side heavy with thick-needled pines. The sky

was a grey circle, a little blue peeking through the clouds,
which were streaked yellow with the rising sun. Oh,
said Grey, and scowled. You thought I might miss the
sky.
The worlds a little different here, said Jack. I
almost went crazy the first day I stepped out of the
Forestthe first night I slept alone, and the stars reached
from horizon to horizon. I thought I might fall off and just
float away.
A small brown bird fluttered out of the berry bush
and down next to Jacks crumbs. It hopped on tiny claws
from speck to speck. Grey drew his knees to his chest and
looked up.
I missed it, too, said Jack. Grey looked at him.
I didnt expect to come home and feel like there were too
many trees. Ive been missing green over my head for
years, and now I miss blue, too?
Grey flopped down on his back. The dirt, which
was not mud despite the best efforts of the mornings
dew, squelched.
As Rupert is not here, said Jack. I feel it is my
responsibility to tell you that youre going to catch your
death that way. He lay down in the chill damp as well.
Fingers of mist brushed against the berry bushes like a
smile.
I hit my head on door frames I didnt use to have
to duck under, said Jack. Just because this house is the
same, doesnt mean I havent grownand the house isnt
even the same. I love my family, and I am who they have
made me. But if my brothers tried to dunk me in the river,
I wouldnt let them. Two birds squabbled over crumbs
by the berry bush, so Jack sat up and threw them some
more. A squirrel chittered and Jack smiled and tore off
another pinch of bread.

244

I miss the sky being bordered by rock, Grey

said, still lying on the ground, looking up. Theres
something unnatural about the edge of the world being
anything but jagged.
Youre really leaving again? said Tessa. Why?
Farrises always come home.
Yeah, but Jacks a Squirrel, not a Farris, said
Grey.
She hopped up and said shrilly, He is too a
Farris.
Okay, okay, said Grey. He turned to cousin
Hansel and said solemnly, The library in St. Johns Port
has more books than your family has freckles.
Thats impossible, said Tessa. Anyway, how
can you know how many freckles we all have?
I calculated an average value for a unit area and
extrapolated. Im certainly not going to count them all.
He hefted his pack and made a face at the weight. Grey
told Hansel, I expect to see you there one day.
Hansel moved inkstained fingers over the soft
leather cover of a book he hadnt read yet (Grey had left a
half dozen; when Jack questioned him on it hed said,
They were heavy). Hansel glanced up at the winter
canopy, and then back down at Grey. Okay, he said.
Time to go, Grey, called Jack from across the
yard. Weve got adventures to study for, yeah? He
hugged his mother good-bye and she smiled like she
could see bright destinies whirling off of him from every
angle. She told Grey she expected a letter of word
puzzles, once he got back to school. Ah, Jack said.
Youve just given him his favorite thing: homework.
Jacks father and some of the brothers
accompanied them out the whittled white heartwood
fence. Jack knocked shoulders with his brothers, who
grinned with pride at how easy he could nearly off-

245

balance them. He shook his fathers hand. His father said,

with a red-bristled smile, Thats a good Farris grip, there.
Use it well, lad.
He does, said Grey.
Jack pulled his father into a swift bear-hug and
then the seventh Farris son of the seventh Farris son, and
friend, left.
They let you go? said Willow when they
reached the Waystation. She pushed them each a bowl of
soup and tapped the counter until Jack slid her a copper
piece. Theres a merchants wagon heading for
Rivertown due in about noon. I bet you can catch a ride.
She went whistling back into the kitchen to continue her
quiet rule of inter-territory Forest politics. Supposedly
there were some old nobility or new Bureau chiefs who
got tithes or wages for actually being in charge of the
Forest, but the Western Wayhouse was where everyone
heard their news and bought their flour.
A wagon came in ten minutes before noon. Jack
gave his best harmless smile and Grey tried not to roll his
eyes. The merchant told them to hop in the back and to
touch nothing. Jack made sure to say a good-bye to
Willow (she gave him a pastry stuffed with dried
cranberries), and then they were off. In the open wagons
back, Jack lifted his face to clear sunlight as they rolled
out from underneath the Forest canopy.
Youre twenty, said Grey, a few hours into the
swaying ride. He put a leaf in his book to keep his place.
Jack was whittling something out of greenwood, chips of
white scattered at his feet.
Mmhm, said Jack. He tossed him the wood
block, a fox, a few inches long and rough.
Grey rolled it over in his palms. Youve been in
the Academy for a year and a half. Jack looked up and
Grey went on, And you said you left home at fourteen.

246

Is that so? said Jack. He shrugged. Im not a

sage. Maybe I just cant count.
Maybe, said Grey.
When they got back to Rivertown, Jack felt
unsteady on his feet. The merchant dropped them off just
past one of the larger shantytowns. Jack had done a lot of
travelling, the last few years, a lot of arriving and
departing, but this was only the second time hed ever left
the Forest.
It might have been an after-effect of too many
hours in a rocking wagon back, but it might also have to
do with the thrum and push of the city after taking so
many breaths of Forest air. That air thrummed, too, but
with the old life of trees and the swift tiny ones of the
insects in the bark. Jack still had his head half in leafdappled shade.
They were in the weavers district, little handstitchery shops huddling beside the sound of great
clacking looms, when Rupert ripped down the street, hair
askew, sword in hand.
Thank god, Rupert said. A kraken came up the
river. Jack, take the sword, Ill stick with the saber until I
can get something better.
Jack put the sheathless sword through his belt,
hand on its hilt. When Jack ran after Ruperts retreating
feet, toward the river and the roars he could already hear
echoing between slate-roofed streets, there were two more
feet kicking up dust behind him.
Jack looked back.
What? said Grey. Unless youve got an expert
in kraken-lore on hand, Im the best youre gonna get.
Jacks grin was spreading. They careened around
the corner to where Laney was standing in front of
heaving, spitting water. Jack!
Grey? said Jack.

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Krakensweaknesseyestry for body cuts

instead of slicing off tentacles, they have a hard time
clottingoh, yeah, watch out for the claws, duck, Jack,
theyre poisonous!
And how do they feel about fire? said Laney, as
Jack crashed backwards through the water, fending off
scales and talons.
Grey grinned, wicked and wide, and Laney broke
three bracelet seals, fire blooming gold in her hands.

248

249

Chapter Eighteen. How Do You Say

Friend In ?
Grey had always loved books (for as long as he
could remember, anyway, and he could remember a long
way). It was why he had come to the Academy. The
Academy was the way to the Library, and he had decided
he wanted the path of his life to meander to those halls of
books and stay there. What was the use of this one world
at his fingertips, compared to the thousands hidden within
all those pages?
A week into his Academy life, comfortably settled
among the books and quills scattered in his bed just the
way he wanted them, a tardy redheaded barbarian had
stepped into Greys room (Greys life). Jack had been
barefoot and staring, tentative within the old walls but
standing in his own skin as though hed never thought of
living any life but his.
(Grey couldnt count the number of times he had
felt bound and breathless in skin too small to belong to his
fathers callused son; or stared at his long fingers and felt
they were too big for him, that they could stretch out and
grasp things he wished were safely out of his reach,
dreams he didnt want to dream, power he didnt want to
have at his beck and call.
It was why he kept them inkstained, smudges

250

between whorls of fingerprints and faint freckles. When

Grey felt lost, drowning in too much self, straining
against too little, hed rub his thumb over drying cursive,
paint his name in the palm of his hand).
A week into the Academy, a boy with the calluses
Greys father had always dreamed of stepped through the
dorm room door. Grey didnt ask his name; hed already
read it off the door. It was the part of the boy that had
been written down so of course it was the only part that
mattered.
Nineteen months later, and Grey was waist deep in
the river shouting advice about krakens, was cross-legged
in his room with books piled above his head and a young
woman chewing on her pen and spitting answers back at
him like it was something to win, was wrapped up in a
quilt drinking Jacks best tea while the Elsewhere played
a brass band in his bones, was breaking curses and
ducking stray manticore thorns and chasing down
gremlins with enchanted silver nets.
Nineteen months later, and Grey was wrapped up
in a guides wide grin, tinged with a bravery that was
earned and not born, a mage who shot bulls-eyes like it
was something she owed the world, a hero who slipped
them forgotten jackets and green apples and bruise balm
like someone might punish him for the kindness.
Nineteen months later, and Grey could see worlds
in the curl of Jacks bare toes when the wind blew down
from the north. Stories were being written in every flick
of Laneys eyelashes, her slyest grin and the way she
disappeared into perfect propriety when someone walked
into the room, except for the taut muscles of her forearms.
Ruperts pen filled in forms and files and reports but all
Grey wanted to do was to ask him about the scar on his
left hand, or the farthest he had ever been from home.
(Grey, presently, was as far as he had ever been, or
possibly the very closest).

251

They were anthologies. They were dictionaries

and thesauruses for words he would never be able to
translate. They were plays and rotting scrolls and old love
letters and standing rune stones worn by centuries. They
were being written before his ink-smudged nose. He
would never catch up; he would die trying to read all of
them, to find their translations, the best poems in their
worst days.
But Laney would yank the fire from his hands and
run her fingers through it like she was carding wool,
looking for secrets. Rupert would slip him a pair of thick
mittens and travel cake stuffed with blueberries, which
Grey had never admitted were his favorite (on her best
days, his mother had gone out and picked them from
spindly mountain bushes and held his hand, inkstained
even then).
And Jack would grin at him from across the hall,
wrinkle his nose like it was another language to learn, and
Grey would have to look down and bite his tongue to
keep from laughing aloud, because somewhere, somehow,
impossibly, he had learned it after all.

252

253

Chapter Nineteen. The Luckiest Man

Alive.
Rupert was brimming with news when they sat
down at breakfast, the first morning after break. He was
bruised from the battle in the river, too.
Red and Leaf, seated with them, were bruised
from some bullies attempt to break up a fighting lesson
the previous night. Youd think theyd figure out
surprising a bunch of people while theyre practicing how
to win fights might be a bad idea, Leaf commented to
Red.
I was going through some Academy
correspondence last night, said Rupert.
Everyone within earshot turned to look at him.
Rupert smiled slightly. The Northern Rangers are
visiting town in a week.
Youre kidding, said Jack.
Red sat up straighter. The Rangers?
Um, who? said Leaf.
You dont know who the Rangers are? said
Grey. Where are you from?
A family farm in a valley in the Green
Mountains.
The Green Hills, muttered Grey with hometown
pride. Havent seen mountains, you flatlander.

254

Theyre the most combat-heavy League assigned

to the northern mountains, where Grey is from, said
Jack. Theyrelegends.
Grey snorted.
Jack leaned forward. The team leader, the hero,
they call him Sarge
Hes been up in the mountains for decades,
continued Red. Leaf leaned back, grinning at the clear
enthusiasm on Reds face. Sarges got so many kills to
his name
And towns evacuated and roofs built and town
smokeries supplied with venison said Jack. What?
League work is diverse stuff.
Their mage said Red.
That battle with the Black Sorcerer! said Jack.
I know! said Red. Oh, and their combat spec
hes one of the best the Bureaus ever seen.
Mays one of the best fighters in any League,
agreed Jack. And about your size, too, Leaf.
Red snorted a laugh. I think maybe you shouldnt
shorten it. Its Maynard, isnt it? May sounds like a girls
name.
Laney smiled sweetly into her grapefruit. Is there
something wrong with girls names, Mr. Uyeda?
Red blanched. Er.
I accept your apology, said Laney. Continue.
She waved a gracious hand.
Er, so, said Red. Theyre sort of the heroes
among heroes. If you grow up places where
where you see strangers more than once a
year? offered Leaf ruefully.
then youve heard of them, finished Red.
The Rangersre really coming? He asked Rupert.
Theyre really coming, said Rupert.
Do you know why? said Jack. He stirred the
potatoes on his plate, looking down. I imagine they

255

arent the sort who like to leave the mountains to fend for
themselves. So whats convinced them to come trek about
the flatlands? He met Ruperts eyes. Is something
wrong up north?
Not that Ive heard, said Rupert. Probably the
Bureau just wants them down here for publicity,
honestly.
To celebrate the beginning of the new term, the
stable loft crew and whatever various new adopted
students theyd acquired met at Sally-Annes that night.
Fizzy lemonade and chips flowed. Gloria had come back
from break exuberant, with hunting stories to share with
Laney and Bradley, and plant samples to share with
Heather.
As with stepping within the haphazard halls of the
Farriss Rambly House, the familiar voices resounding off
the fish shop walls made Jack feel a little bit like he was
home, except for all the ways he didnt. Jack worked
through each condiment on the table, thoughtful.
Leaf had found another set of cheerful young men
to sing shanties with. Jack was pretty sure they were
sharing with him something a little stronger than
lemonade. Red sagged down into a chair next to Jack.
How can someone that small have so much energy inside
of him? Red asked. Sometimes I swear Shawn
photosynthesizes rather than eats mortal grub like us.
Leafs certainly a character, Jack agreed. He
passed Red a lemonade. We always end up in the corner,
being the grumpy old men, at parties like this.
We are the old men, said Red. Youre almost
twenty-one now, yeah?
Twenty-one? Red, were kids, all of us. Youre
nineteen, not arthritic. Why are youoh.
Red was sipping his drink and pointedly not
looking at the sixteen-year-old on the other side of the
room. Leaf put his whole body into it when he laughed.

256

You guys are?

Red waved a hand, flushing red. No. Its onesided, and its silly. Im too old for him. Hes so energetic
all the time. (This appeared to be one of the selling
points).
Jack shrugged. My moms got seven on my dad.
I dont think you need to worry.
Red shook his head. If Im not too old for him,
then Im too reserved, said Red. Hes not a shy guy;
Ive got to be boring to someone like him.
You guys spend half your free time arguing at the
top of your lungs and grinning ear to ear.
Thats not the same, said Red. He befriends
strangers, and I just glare awkwardly at my feet.
He thinks you hang the moon, Red, said Jack.
You might want to give him a chance. Jack clapped
Red on the shoulder as he stood. Think about it, alright?
Jack had seen Sez step into the side room that
served as Sally-Annes bookkeeping office. He rapped
once on the door and stepped insideonly to flush and
jump back towards the door with a Sorry! Can people
think about nothing else right now?
Sez laughed while Sally-Anne flushed and
adjusted her skewed red kerchief. Sezs right hand had
been curled there, just behind her ear, in Sallys dark hair.
No, no, wait, said Sez. Something up?
Jack pressed his back against the closed door.
Nothing, sorry. Didnt mean to, uh, interrupt. He
scrubbed at his forehead; a splitting headache had been
creeping up on him all day.
You wanted something, Jackie. Sez hung her
thumbs in her belt loops. Youve already stumbled in
and upset Sally; spit it out. (Sally-Anne was flushed to
the tip of her nose and furiously pretending to be looking
over accounts on the desk).

257

Jack rubbed his forehead again. I was just

wondering if any letters had come for me while I was
away. I hadnt got any for a couple weeks before the
holiday.
I dont think youre allowed to complain about
everyone else thinking about their lovers, kiddo, said
Sez.
Oh, shut up, he said. Its justlonger than the
pause normally is between letters. Im worried.
No, nothings come in, said Sez. Sorry, Jack.
Thanks. Er, great fish tonight, Sally-Anne.
Sally waved a hand at him. Shoo, you big
squirrel. Ill pick up my dignity from the curb later.
Ill help you find it, said Sez, grinning wickedly,
and ushered Jack out the door, locking it behind him.
Jack pushed a hand through his hair. It was getting
long, falling in his eyes in straight hanks. His headache
throbbed. He moved towards Laney and Rupert, who had
taken to a quieter booth; they had a map laid out between
them that they annotated with marks for poltergeist haunts
and burned Thing nests.
You alright? said Laney. You look pale,
Farris.
Oh, I never get sick, Jack started to say. He
collapsed where he stood.
The next time Jack woke, he was horizontal and
wrapped up in starched sheets. Voices talked nearby,
trying to keep quiet but rising.
Its more than sick. It was Grey. Theres magic
in this, too. Hes cursed.
And why do you think you know that, lad? said
Nurse, disbelieving.
Because I do! said Grey. Im brilliant. I know
everything. Ask anyone. Just get him the help he needs.

258

Rupert spoke up next, much better at keeping his

voice low and in some semblance of calm. Grey, Im
going to go talk to Sez, see if she knows anybody. You
want to come with, so we know what were looking for?
Jack drifted off again.
A light tap on his shoulder and Jack swam into
wakefulness. He coughed, half-sitting in the darkness.
Rupert?
Can you walk? said Rupert.
Sure I can walk, said Jack.
(He made it halfway through the courtyard before
he collapsed onto his knees, retching on an empty
stomach. Rupert pulled one of Jacks arms over his
shoulders and hefted him up when he was done).
Where are we going? said Jack, once theyd
passed under the main Academy gates, leaning heavily on
him.
Sez says she knows a healer who might be able to
help.
You mean a witch-doctor, or something, said
Jack. How long have I been out?
Healer seems most respectful, said Rupert. It
seems wise to be respectful to people who youre trusting
to keep you alive. He paused. Three days.
Jack had turned twenty-one while he was asleep.
Happy birthday to me, he muttered under his breath.
They moved downriver, but not as far as the
shanties. Sweat beaded between Jacks collarbones and
they stopped once so he could throw up nothing but air
into a side alley.
Looks cozy, said Jack, finally, as they limped
together up to their destination. It was a cottage made of
varied but sturdy stones, their damp moss peeking
through climbing ivy. Rupert pounded the brass knocker
politely and Sez opened the door. They stepped inside to a
hallway that smelled of mothballs and cat hair; two

259

tabbies ran out and circled their ankles with aggressive

affection.
The healer stood in front of them, hands bundled
in her dark green skirt. Her hair, pulled back and
business-like, was a thick and curly blackened violet, the
bones in her face oddly sharp, her teeth equally so when
she opened her mouth to speak. Jack had a suspicion that
when she pulled her hands from her skirt, theyd have a
hags gnarled talons as well.
Redheads the sick one, then? she said. The
healer flicked an unimpressed gaze over all of Jacks pale
and sweaty height. She shrugged and turned to walk
away. Bring him down to my office, then. Rupert, young
man, you and I are going to have words about you
convincing my daughter to convince me to treat Academy
boys in the middle of the night.
Rupert didnt convince me of anything! Sez
said, bouncing after her. (The office appeared to also be
the basement).
Daughter? said Jack.
He doesnt know? said the healer, turning to
glare as they stepped down the last of the stairs. You
brought someone to me who you dont trust enough to tell
him what you are?
Sez rolled her eyes, perching on a stool. I do trust
him. But its my business, she said. Theres a big
difference between not sharing and being ashamed or
afraid of something. I know who I am. I dont need to
carry a banner advertising it.
Hmph.
Dont look so smug, Mum. Rupert and Bart have
both known since we were eight.
Her mother stared.
And, hey, fancy that, they never even tried to set
me on fire, Sez added.
Not yet, the healer muttered.

260

I, er, still dont actually know what were talking

about, said Jack. Whats the issue? Rupert found him a
chair and he settled down into it with a thank you.
Jack, this is my mom, said Sez.
Her mother gave an ironic half-bow, her eye-roll
biting and also distinctly reminiscent of the other vaguelypurple haired person Jack knew.
Yes, I gathered. Hello, maam, nice to meet you.
He glanced over at Sez, bewilderment in his face.
Shes a hag? added Sez.
Um, yes? said Jack. I, uh, didnt want to
assume, but. Yeah, I gathered.
So Im a halfling? Sez said. Half hag.
Jack blinked rapidly. Sez steeled herself for the
reaction, and Jack said slowly, So thats why youre not
in the Academy. They dont He glanced hesitantly
towards the Headsmasters nephew. Rupert watched his
hands. I knew a half-ogre, before, Jack said. He
wouldve come to Academy, too, maybe, but
Im not signing up to pay tuition to get their little
stamp on my forehead for a whole host of reasons, said
Sez. The Academys little fullblood test is the least of it.
I could handle that.
But its
Its all just paperwork, said Sez, grinning at the
blush threatening Ruperts cheeks.
Rupe? said Jack.
Dont you dare sound surprised, Jackie, said
Sez. Really.
Im feverish and delirious, Jack protested. I can
be a little slow on the uptake if I need to.
Acting as though breaking rules isnt Ruperts
first instinct when somethings wrong, said Sez. Really,
Farris, and I thought you were intelligent.
We should get back to the feverish bit,
shouldnt we? said Rupert.

261

How many have you smuggled in? Jack asked

him. Who?
Rupert hesitated. Its kind of their business.
Anyone who I knew of, which just means anyone Sez
heard of. He rubbed his long nose and offered, Our
stable loft study group is not exempt, lets say.
Good on you, Rupe, said Jack, trying for warm
but coming out rather faint instead. He closed his eyes for
a moment.
Taking our children and putting them in
Academy with a lot of bloodthirsty, xenophobic heroes?
said Sezs mother. Thats a long way from noble,
Rupert.
Not really my call to keep them out or in,
maam, said Rupert.
I suppose we could get back to making me not
dead? said Jack. Because, I realize this isnt stoic and
manly of me, but I feel awful. Im gonna start weeping on
Sez at any moment here.
Hmph, said Sezs mother and took two steps
forward and lifted both of Jacks hands in hers. Her
eyebrows, thick and wiry, furrowed down.
There are a lot of last breaths of monsters on your
hands, Jack Farris, she said steadily. What did you
bring into my home, Sez?
Jack started, glancing over at a wide-eyed Sez.
IveI have killed, maam. But only ever murderers,
only ever when there wasnt another way.
Sezs mother dropped his hands, wiping hers on
her skirt. Some people are pretty sure monster and killer
are the same word. She surged forward, quick for all her
old, coiled grace, and grabbed Jacks arm. Sezs mother
tapped the slash on his hand with a crooked talon. A
Thing, I can feel the Elsewhere glimmer on it.
Acceptable; theyre the rabid dogs of my world, easy
prey. But these

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Sezs mother brushed an old white mark that ran

up his palm to his wrist, then a puckered gouge. A
kelpy, she said clinically. A barrow wight. A manticore.
He must have put up a fight. The shiny, almost waxy
skin that told of an old, massive burn. A long scar had
faded to an unhealthy purple beside another whose edges
tinged green. Claw marks from a harpy. A sphinx. Some
of these could be anythingan ogre, a gremlin, a pixie, a
giant. An old ropey scar that ran down his chest, only the
tip visible just above his shirt collar. I can read every
death on your hands, Jack Farris. I can read all your
names. An impressive kill list for a boy of twenty-one.
Jack was pale as she poked each visible scar, a
gravelly litany of sins under her breath. I, he said, eyes
stuttering over the line of each scar, because he knew his
names too, I was trying to protect people.
Ah, theres that word. Trying. I care about what
you did, boy. Not what you tried. Not what you thought.
Not what you are. And theres that other word. People.
You mean humans.
Maam, I dont He swallowed. Sezs mother
tapped the last scar (Eyrie bird talons, she muttered),
and pulled back, disdain in every line of her old face, eyes
flashing violet.
Humans, she said. No, I wont term you all
monsters, not the way you do to us. But heroes. Your life
mission, to perpetuate the death of anyone different. Some
of us are dangerous, youre right. But danger and malice
are not the same thing. She turned to Sez. Death all
over his hands, and you bring him to me to save him?
Mum, I Sez fisted her hands over the threadhung side of her trousers. Hes a friend.
The hags eyes swung over to Rupert. Yes,
youve always had good taste in those.
Jacks never hurt anyone who wasnt hurting a
noncombatant, said Sez, stepping forward.

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And how do you know that, daughter mine?

Walking around with blind faith that this homo sapien,
this monkey, is fair and true? Is it the pretty face?
Sez took a slow breath and Rupert stared at the
realization of her intention in the pause before she spoke.
Because the ones he stopped are the ones I told
him to, she said. Her eyes were dark, every inch the
queen reigning between cluttered market stalls, except for
wetness gathering in eyelashes that bled from black to
purple.
Her mother stared. Sez
They were killers, every one, she said, certainty
in her voice despite the unsteady shake of it. Gone mad,
or gone cruel, or gone hungry. I refused, and refuse, to
stand by while innocents who cant defend themselves get
eaten by some ogre whos decided he likes the way
screams taste.
Sez, said her mother. You cant, you cant give
these people weapons. You cant give them more chances
to kill us, because they will take it. You start out with
killers. But what if they start wondering, after they kill a
hag who likes gnawing bones, wondering what if you go
that way one day? And if they should stop you now,
before you have the chance to hurt people.
If I ever start gnawing on any bones that arent
from Sallys fish shop, said Sez, then I hope they do
shiv me in some dark alley. Id expect them to.
Sez wouldnt, said Rupert, quietly.
Because shes half human? said Sezs mother.
Because shes Sez, said Rupert.
Her mother humphed. Ruperts eyes narrowed and
he stepped forward, rolling up his long sleeves. He
pointed to a scar on his left arm. Nip by a gremlin, he
said, and moving his hand to another, Bad run-in with a
harpy. But these? Border conflicts with Knights. A fist to
the eye by some fellow who thought I looked at him

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wrong in Nightmarket. Breaking up a thieves den down

in Hog Lane. Knife fight in an alley with a guy who just
wanted my wallet. Maam, Im a long way from thinking
the worst monsters in the world are monsters. Im here to
fight for people who cant fight for themselves. Dont
care who or what it is Im up against.
And why do you get that right? To decide who to
fight for?
Because Sez asked me to, once upon a time. And,
you know what? Its not a right, its a privilege, he said.
I fight for them because I dont have to go work for my
supper, or raise my kids, or live someplace where I cant
trust my walls to hold against intruders while I sleep. All I
have to do is whatever paperwork my Uncle hands me.
What right do I have not to help, when I can?
The woman regarded him gravely for a moment
and then turned to her daughter. Sez stood with a straight,
proud spine, her chin raised. She had learned that evenkeeled stare from her mother, learned how to hold her
face when she thought she was standing in the right and
would not be moved.
How long have you been killing monsters?
asked her mother.
First one was a wraith who tried to eat Rupert in
a back alley, four years ago, Sez said. If wed been any
other two adolescents in a bad part of town, anyone but
us, wed be dead, but Im your daughter and hes an
Academy boy. She shook her head. Mum, there are so
many people out there who arent us.
And you? Sezs mother said, turning to the tall,
pale redhead in the chair.
I hate bullies, said Jack, and shrugged. He
winced when the movement brought on a new wave of
nausea.

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The healer pursed her lips in a long scowl, then

turned away. We are talking about this later, young
miss, she told Sez as she dug through a cluttered drawer.
Youre going to help Jack? said Sez.
Ill try, said her mother, and Sez and Rupert
shared a subtle fist bump in the corner.
Straightening, her mother put on glasses shaped
like crescent moons lying on their backs. They were made
of a chilled silver wire, glinting in the coarse violet of her
hair.
She turned to squint at Jack, moving towards him.
Wiry eyebrows went up and she circled the boy, giving a
whistle that melted into a low cackle.
Your lucks been poisoned, said Sezs mother.
My what? said Jack, swiveling to look at her,
and regretting the quick movement as his vision spun.
She pulled the glasses down her nose and looked
over them at him. Youre not deaf, too, are you?
No, butluck? Thats a thing people physically
have?
Not most people, she said. But youre not most
people, Jack Farris. She waved a hand over his general
torso area. Youd light up like a cannon blast to anyone
who knows how to read the subtler stuff. Im not a seer
thats human nonsense. But as a hag Im closer to the
Elsewhere than some, and I can feel it. Lucky you came
to meha, yes, well that parts not broken.
But, Jack began.
Sezs mother rolled her eyes, pulling the glasses
off and folding them up. She tucked them in her blouse
and repeated, Luck. Bad things just roll off you, Jack.
Havent you noticed?
Roll off me, he repeated, an icy foreshadowing
coiling in his lower intestine.
A bit of ice youd have slipped on will melt in
sudden sunlight when you step. She shrugged. A rickety

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old bridge will hold just long enough to get you to the
other side. Someone tries to ambush you? The floorboards
will creak under their feet loud enough to wake you. The
world loves you, Jack. It keeps you whole.
Jack had his hands in his lap, his stomach rolling
with remembered horror. A bullet might just miss its
mark, he offered. Ill fall into things too big for me to
survive and come out the other side intact.
Youre blessed, said the hag.
Like the girl who spoke in rubies and roses, he
said. Jack pinched the bridge of his nose; despite the
situation Rupert couldnt help a small smile to see
something Jack had clearly learned from him. But you
said its poisoned. So Im unlucky now? he said.
No, youre still quite lucky. But youre dying.
The whole room froze.
Oh, what, dont look at me like that, she said.
Youre dying right now, but you wont be in the
morning. I can fix it. She moved to the other side of the
basement, sorting through stone jars and lifting piece of
rolling chalk. Youre lucky you found me, actually. Not
many know how to spot something like this, let alone how
to heal it. But, well, like I said, lucks a thing you arent
lacking, bully boy.
At some point during the healing, Jack fell asleep.
When he woke again, it was to a remarkably clearer head
and in his own bed. He wondered how Laney and Rupert
had managed to haul him back (until a few days later
when Rupert told him Sezs mother had some hired
fellows specifically for carting patientsor malcontentsor bothout of her house).
For the moment, Jack was alone in the room, he
thought. Sunlight drifted in the window with brazen
confidence. Jack could hear neither Greys snore nor the
rustle of pages below. Jack stared up at the cracks in the

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ceiling, thoughts flowing slowly through a newly healthy

head.
A small, sharp face poked itself over the edge of
Jacks bed. Youre up!
Jack jumped and flailed a little under the blankets.
I didnt know you were here. It was so quiet.
I heard you stirring. Grey poked his side. You
better?
Jack blinked, stretching his legs, feeling his heart
beat. Yeah. Like nothing ever happened.
Huh. Grey looked like he was collecting data on
some magical experiment; and then he looked sick to his
stomach.
What? said Jack. Im better. I promise. You
can tell Rupe he needs to use up his worry allotment for
the week on someone else.
Mhm. Grey leaned forward. He was balanced
halfway up the beds, chin propped up on the railing of
Jacks upper bunk. Then why the long face? said Grey.
Jack shrugged, looking up. Apparently Im
lucky.
Yeah? Rupert mentioned. Why would that
Grey scowled. Youre not. Youre not. You stupid
squirrel of an idiot. You are not taking something thats
awesome about you and deciding its a bad thing. Cant
you ever take a good break at face value? Grey threw his
hands up in the air and almost wobbled off where he was
peering over the edge of the bed. How are you managing
to take Im really lucky and make it something to be
ashamed of?
Because apparently I was lying all those times I
told people they should fight for others, said Jack.
What?
Jack shook his head. I encouraged people to take
risks, to do the right thing. And I wasnt taking any risks
at all. And what if my good luck meant I was giving

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others bad? A shot of bad karma veers off slippery Farris

and jams up in the closest poor sods gullet
So? You didnt know. Youre not causing this.
So?
Grey made an aggrieved sound. Soif you
hadnt been lucky, if youd been as normal as you thought
you were, would you have made the same decisions?
Yeah? Of course. Thats what I thought I was.
So you cant hold yourself responsible for things
you didnt know, said Grey. Its not fair.
As Miss Laney says, life isnt fair. Jack rolled
over. Im going to go back to sleep, okay?
Agh. Grey threw up his hands (this time he did
fall off the bunk). Im going to go read. Books in
archaic languages make more sense than you, Farris!
Jack woke up a half hour later, feeling awake but
still digesting new facts. He rolled out of bed and landed
with every ounce of his old ease. He narrowly missed a
pile of pens that could have sent him rolling, probably
slamming his head back onto the wood frame of Greys
bed.
Jack never checked for things like thatdidnt
stop to see if there was something he might slip on, if the
branch would hold him before he leapt for it, if the path
was clear. Jack pulled on a clean shirt and left the room.
Jack knocked on Ruperts door first, gave him
some more bruise balm from a new batch. He couldnt
bring himself to ask for comfort or for blame. Jack
considered climbing up to Laneys room, but in the back
of his mind the sharp noise of a gunshot ricocheted off
high rock walls and a song went out of the world. Jack
didnt climb the stairs.
Jack paced the grounds instead, climbed a tree,
hesitated outside of Rhoness office. All throughout the
school, the world, were heroes who would spend their

269

lives actually risking them. He walked on. The professor

probably wasnt in anyway.
Oy! Leaf and Red were walking out of the barn,
Leaf flushed and smiling from a practice session. Jack!
Were heading out to Sallys. Fancy a basket of fish?
I dunno, said Jack. Im a little wiped.
Yeah, you look like a lost ewe, said Leaf
cheerfully. Come on, lets get some hot food in you.
Leaf and Red kept most of the conversation going,
spitting cheery arguments between them. Jack grinned
and dabbled fries in vinegar and tried to breathe.
When the sky became streaked with dusk, Jack
headed back to his room, wiping finger strokes of fry oil
on his pants. Leaf and Red had headed down to the river,
talking about Bureau public policy statutes as though they
were actually enjoying themselves.
Hey, said Grey, when he walked in. Jack made a
noise somewhat like a friendly greeting and climbed
heavily up to his bunk.
If he had been Grey and not Jack, he would have
been sorting things into boxesguilt, responsibility, fault.
Grey would have been making columns and summing
them, calculating averages, writing lists. His conscience
would have been weighed down with a quantified value,
accurate, perhaps a little exaggerated due to investigator
bias.
But he was Jack, so he lay in the upper bunk and
let all the flaws of his life wash over him in echoing
multicolor. The wet thud of a bullet. A widow weeping
like broken glass. Eventually he went to sleep.

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271

Chapter Twenty. What It Is To Shatter.

Jack had slept in enough ditches and enough
treetops that he could get comfortable in most places, as
long as he could get somewhat horizontal.
He liked the river breeze through his drying herbs
in the Academy dorm. The creak of old trees outside the
Rambly House was like a lullaby, but that Forest house
full of Farrises would always feel like a worn shoe that he
knew like the flex of his toes or the callus on his heel, but
a shoe that no longer fit. Hed grown accustomed to
bedrolls in rocky crevasses, the surprisingly dark little
chuckle of a girl with golden hair as the firelight died.
Most mornings, when Jack woke up, he took a
moment to remember what to expect when he opened his
eyes. He learned to think home and think his own skin. He
learned to think home and think the crinkle of pages as he
fell asleep and Greys whistling snore when he woke.
Every morning, Jack tied on the green band that
was part of his uniform and missed heartwood fences and
tall stone walls, all the things that bound men into named
groups.
The first thing people noticed about Grey was that
he was smart, tongue sharp, head stuffed full of

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information of varying usefulness. Later, they would see

he was hungry for it, desperate and fierce about seizing
knowledge and claiming it.
Jack saw Grey as a jagged edge of glass: clever,
quick, and sharp. He could cut when he didnt mean to,
and when he did. He was the knife-edge of a cracked
stained glass windowpane, warping the light coming
through into shafts of color (Jack didnt look at the world
the same way, after Grey). Grey was glass; he would
shatter if you struck him just wrong.
Rupert was his mothers son, but he was his
uncles nephew, too, and he did not break rules on
purpose. Jack walked into his Academy, and then into his
quiet war against Things, and then into his life and trust
and family.
Asked years before, Rupert would have denied the
possibility of falling in with a redheaded giant, a barefoot
boy who jumped into fights without thinking, a guide who
wouldnt keep to himself. Years before, he had never seen
Jack smile, wide and proud and sure, brave with a mix of
idealism and scars.
Youre too pretty for all those books, said a boy
with the blue and black band around his bicep, one day. It
was admittedly a very nice bicep, larger than the one
gracing Ruperts arm across the table, where he stirred his
greens on his plate and eyed the newcomer, who was
eyeing Laney.
In the desert, this would be handled with
diplomacy, or should be. Girls builtsewed tents and
sowed peace. Her mothers words rang in her ears. The
Academy honored violence at the hands of well-bred
young men with blue heroes blood in their veins; and
called it unprofessional and crude when it came from a
barefoot backwoodsman or a womans gentle soul.

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Laney had never felt gentle in her life, but she was
so very good at playing pretend.
We should study together sometime, the hero
said. The boy smiled at her, bright and speaking volumes;
it was a pleasant smile, actually, for all that was worth, a
pleasant smile on a pleasantly sharp-boned face.
Thank you, but no, Laney said, took a bite of
her greens, looking across the table at another young man
with blue and black on his arm. There was a whole wide
world in Ruperts eyes; that was one of the best things
about him, that he looked out and not in. He had his
mothers eye for detail and her thirst for wild new vistas;
his uncles penchant for building things that lasted.
Teachers pet all the way, eh? said the hero with
the nice facial structure and the bicep she wouldnt be
able to fit her hands around all the way. So thats how
you got in.
Laney smiled, the sweetest she knew how, which
was very sweet indeed. She had charms hot around her
wrist that would drag him from here and dump him in the
river a half-mile distant.
Do you really want me to have to prove you
wrong?
Laney knew; she had always been meant for
breaking, not building.

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275

Chapter Twenty-One. Dont Expect Me

Back.
In their Group Heroics class, Professor Hicks
taught about the social differences between matriarchal
and patriarchal nomad tribes in the desert three days later.
The other teachers had, in anticipation of the Rangers
visit, focused their lessons on the northelevation
sickness, eyrie bird tracking. Hicks didnt succumb to
such themed peer pressure; or no one had thought to tell
him.
So, of course, the Rangers chose Hickss class to
slide into the back of, halfway through the lecture. They
moved with the quiet, cocky grace of men who had snuck
up on sleeping ogres. With a faint rustle of cloth, they slid
into a row of seats in the back, grinning sidelong at each
other.
Jack was half-napping, nursing a bruised rib and a
twisted ankle from a bad leap after a fleeing Thing the
night before. All the same he sat up straight when he
caught sight of the entrance of the Rangers silver-haired
leader, their bald, sharp-nosed mage, the tall stick-thin
sage, the tattooed guide or even all the short, stout bulk
and dense muscle of their legendary combat spec.
Are they all in the back there? said Rupert.
Jack swiveled around to get a longer look, grinned
widely at the League, and then turned back to Rupert.
Too lofty to look over your shoulder?

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My uncles nephew is not allowed to gawk.

Your uncles nephew is not allowed out in the
town after hours, said Jack.
Rupert smiled, keeping his eyes on the front of the
room.
All of them, said Jack. The Rangers mage said
something quietly to the Rangers sage. The sage, a good
few feet taller than the mage, smirked. Jack told Rupert,
Theyre the Rangers, sure, but even they cant break
tradition.
I imagine its interesting, said Rupert. Whats
this classroom going to look like, after a few years of
slaying monsters? He smiled, crooked, and said, Well, I
suppose Ill be here, slaying scholarship applications, so
there you are.
Red, in the row behind them, was coming close to
hyperventilation from excitement. Leaf, beside him, was
in a similar state of glee, but that was largely to do with
unbridled amusement at Reds reddening face. Its the
Rangers.
I know, said Jack. Take your notes, though.
Theyll still be there after class.
Says the fellow copying my notes, muttered
Grey.
Leaving the classroom with Rupert afterwards,
Jack felt a tap on his shoulder. Red had rushed ahead to
try to shake the hand of the Rangers leader, a man named
Garth but called Sarge. Jack turned around and looked
down a few feet to meet eyes with the person whod
tapped his shoulder.
Jack Farris, said the Rangers combat spec,
rolling the words around like they were new in his mouth.
He was Leafs size, short and stout in his stiff League
uniform.
Behind him stood the Rangers sage, a tall thin
man who hailed from Laneys desert.

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The combat spec, unfortunately named Maynard,

said, Youre the one who got deathly sick, a week ago.
People were panicking about plague. You all better, or
should we be worried?
Just old scars catching up with me, said Jack.
Im alright, really. If any of you start to get symptoms
thoughI know a good healer. A little ornery.
Rupert rolled his eyes, holding back a laugh.
And who is this? said Maynard.
Rupert Jons Willington Hammerfeld the
Sevenththe Sixth being the Headsmaster of the
Academy, Jack added ruefully. Rupert, this is Maynard
Johannesburg, the combat spec for the Rangers. He
whispered loudly to Rupert, Im a big fan.
Oh, I think I remember you, Rupert, said the
sage. You were smaller when I was a student.
Welcome to the Academy, sirs, said Rupert in
his best Good Nephew voice. Would you or any of your
League care for a tour?
We went to school here, remember, Maynard
told him, amused. Sarge! Gotta go, boys. He grinned.
Very nice to meet you both.
Did you see that? Red hissed, rejoining them a
few paces later. You talked to Maynard the Bloody.
Yeah, I know. We were there, said Jack,
laughter tucked into the folds of his voice.
Rupert grinned slyly. I grew up on campus,
remember? I knew them all when they were wee little
students.
Not Sarge, said Jack.
Their hero? Nah, hes too oldthe guide, too, he
was here when I was, but I think I was too little then to
remember him now. Rupert shrugged. Still.
Jack headed back to his room. He had some things
to do before fighting practice that evening. Grey sat up

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when he came in. He flipped carelessly through the book

open in front of him. How you feeling, Squirrel?
Fine. Jack shrugged. Im going to go for a run
before fighting practice, actually. He rummaged through
his desk.
The Rangers sage stopped by one of our classes
today for question and answer, said Grey. Hes as tall as
you, Jack.
I know, said Jack. Whatd he have to say?
Well, I wanted to know how he dealt with not
being able to carry books with him, said Grey. And still
be useful, you know? He says he leaves books throughout
the mountains with random people? Grey shuddered.
He picks them up, exchanges them when he needs
thembut can you imagine? Letting other people have
your books? Theyd use them, get them dirty and torn and
stained?
Isnt that what books are for? said Jack.
Thats what he said. Grey closed the book he
was holding with a definitive snap.
Jack started to move towards the door.
Jack? asked Grey quietly. Why do you think
that curse targeted you?
Jack glanced over. Grey was staring down at the
cover of his book, his hands pressed into his blankets.
Maybe they missed? Jack paused, looking down at the
little mage from the mountains. Did you recognize
something about it?
Grey looked up, met his eyes. Why would I have
recognized anything?
They held fighting practice, as was custom now, in
one of the clearings in the untamed Academy grounds.
Theyd only gotten halfway through their opening
exercises when two figures stepped into their
moonlightMaynard the combat spec, and the grizzled
hero Sarge. Hello?

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This is wonderful, Maynard said once things

had been stammeringly explained by Red. He looked
around at them all for a moment, then his round face split
wide into a grin. You guys are my favorite. His laugh
was light for such a stocky young man.
How did he find out about us? Red muttered to
Jack.
Huh, said Jack. I cant imagine. He leaned
closer, following a spark of inspiration. Would they
know your pirate contacts? Did you write home about
us?
Not really, said Red.
Jack elbowed him lightly. Well then, just enjoy
it. The Rangers hero and combat spec want to give us
fighting tips. I hear theyre good.
The smile Red gave him exuded shy, honest thrill.
Jack grinned back.
Sarge was quiet and firm. Maynard brimmed with
an enthusiasm to rival Leaf at his most fervent. The
combat spec never stripped out of his bulky Academy
jacket, but Sarge ended up down to his undershirt, helping
Clark move through a punch combination.
Hows the north these days, sir? Jack asked
Sarge as he stood to the side to catch his breath and watch
the group.
Its a good thing you have going here. The older
man crossed his arms, glancing over at Jack. Sarge said,
The mountains? Chilly and rocky, nothing much new.
Hear of any plagues like mine?
Sarge was looking at Jack oddly. Not that Ive
heard, kid. You just worry about school, eh?
Yeah, said Jack. Sure. He went to go help
Heather with the block she didnt quite have the hang of.
The Rangers headed out after an hour or so. Jack
went back towards the dorms with Rupert and Laney.
Laney was in high spirits; shed been experimenting with

280

a spiraling groove inside the barrel of the gun shed

picked up on the floor of Sallys fish shop, so long ago.
The results of her latest innovation were promising.
Rupert was listening with his patented attention, enjoying
her good cheer.
Jack waved them good night at the foot of the
dorms. Im going to go enjoy the air, he said. Too
much adrenalin to go to sleep yet.
Rupert looked over at him, brow furrowing. You
are sleeping eventually, arent you? You were just very
ill.
Thanks for the concern, Rupe, but you arent
actually my mom.
Laney waved him away cheerily. So the spiral
ribbing
Jack walked out into the dim Academy night. He
strolled out into the tangled grounds.
About fifty feet into the underbrush, once he was
out of sight of any innocent bystanders, Jack turned and
crept towards the visitors wing.
The Rangers had been given a small suite of
rooms in one of the Academy wingstheir intern was
bunking with Weeds. It had probably been an old visiting
nobles room or something. Rupert would know.
But it was the people sprawled in the living room,
not the building, who Jack was interested in.
Jack knocked on the door, which was as locked as
he expected it to be. The Rangers werent used to the
constant surrounding protection of four walls and a
ceiling, but they took whatever they were given.
Farris? said the sage, opening it. It was odd,
being able to look the tall man in the eye. The sages thin,
black face lit into a wide smile of recognition.
Jack! said Maynard, curled up on a couch,
sharpening a throwing star. Without any public eyes to
spy, the carefully padded armor and uniform were gone,

281

and her feminine curves were not quite obvious, but

certainly apparent.
May grinned at him. Let him in and shut the
door, slowpoke! She waved them both inside.
Jack slipped inside. All five of the senior League
members were ranged throughout the room, Sarge with
the requisite paperwork, their guide blinking himself
awake from a nap that appeared to have been unplanned.
Jack? said Sarge, not like a veteran to a student,
but a scarred old man to a scarred old friend. Something
up?
Jack ran a hand through short hair. When you go
north, Im coming with you.
Sarge raised his chin, looking at him thoughtfully.
What, your girlfriend called you home, Farris?
said the mage. His grin was sharply teasing.
Not my girlfriend, Flash, said Jack with the
exasperated cadence of a someone whod had to say those
four words many times before. And she hasnt written in
weeks. Somethings wrong. Either she cant write, or its
something she knows Id drop everything and run upmountain for.
I thought she didnt approve of Bureau learning,
said the mage. May glared and elbowed him. Flash
ignored her, going on, I thought shed love to see you
come home badgeless, kid.
She knows its important to me, Jack said.
Jack, said their sage, shaking his head kindly.
If something was up, shed write you. And if she
couldnt, then Bea would.
Heck, or even little Bidi knows her letters at this
point, added the mage.
You need to calm down, Jack, said Sarge.
Jack shook his head, moving further inside the
room. They cursed me, Sarge. It was themwho else? I
almost died. I wouldve if I hadnt been Jack bit out,

282

lucky. Dont you tell me not to be worried. What if they

go after her next? Or one of you?
You guys are more likely, said Flash frankly.
May elbowed Flash again, furiously. Youre not under
Bureau protection. The seeresswell, shes safer pissing
off unattached vigilantes than an established League. He
grinned. Id like to say the seeress hates us all equally,
but, Jackie, my man, I think you might have a special
place in her heart.
Jack shook his head, sinking onto the couch next
to the Rangers guide, who nudged him in the shoulder.
Jack squeezed his nose between his thumb and forefinger,
sighing.
Settling in a chair nearby, the sage said from his
kindly height, Bidis five now, you know. You still show
up in her artwork sometimes. His face crinkled in a
smile.
Jack laughed. God, she must be so tall now.
And she looks just like her papa, too, said the
guide from beside him on the couch. I cant believe its
been two years. I miss him something terrible every time
the kid laughs.
I miss him, too, said Jack. (The wet thud of a
bullet). (A widow weeping like broken glass). And I
dont want to miss anyone else Do you understand,
Sarge? He looked around at them all. What if the
seeress comes after Bea and Bidi next?
Youre a month away from graduating, said
Sarge.
But somethings wrong, said Jack. Please, he
said. I need to get to the mountains.
Finally Sarge put down his pen, ink smudges on
the side of his hand. Jack stared at the stains and took a
long breath. Grey would be fine. He had Laney, he had
Rupert, Grey had an Academy of heroes to keep the

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monsters away and he had friends to keep his secrets. And

Jack would come back.
Sarge started to speak, but Jack was busy
wondering how many times he could promise to come
back without tearing himself in two. He shook himself
and looked at the Rangers leader.
I hear Gerald Thornes been courting you, said
Sarge.
Yeah? said Jack. Its something to think about
at leastan adult who doesnt just tell me to get back to
the playpen every time trouble breaks out. His voice
snapped toward cruel.
Jack.
Jack sighed. Im sorry. I justI feel so cooped
up here. And Im worried.
You shouldnt be. I havent heard of anything
brewing up north.
Sarge, dont, said Jack. If something happens,
and Im here playing the good little studentI wont ever
forgive myself. And you know it.
Sarge heaved a sigh. We wont be back in the
mountains for a month and a half, at the inside, Sarge
said. Weve reports to give at the Bureau headquarters
after this. Jack, you should stay. I promise well even
come back through here on our way north. He paused
and added, To pick up our new intern.
Jack blinked. But
He pulled a couple strings. May grinned widely
at him. Cmon, Jackie.
I cant, May. Jack pushed his hands through his
hair again. If somethings wrong and I didnt go? I cant
just sit here.
Jack, said Sarge. Just a month.
You wont help? he said.
We cant. Jack, you cant. Sarge waved a curt
hand at the Academy that stretched around them, outside

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the rooms walls. You have something to lose, these

days.
No, Jack said. Im going. Ive got to, Sarge.
Farris began May as he opened the door.
Jack shrugged, backing out of the room. Not like
Ive never made it to the mountains on my own before.
Jack
He shut the door on the Rangers, the legends
among Leagues, the heroes of the north.
Jack walked back through the Academy grounds,
breathing hard. Twenty-one months, and Jack knew the
shape of the trees and the hedge maze against the sky. He
had Rivertown dust caked in the soles of his feet. Jack
could navigate the town now using nothing but references
to past daysturn left where we met that chimera that
gave prophecies; take the road with that good sausage
shop; head toward that rebuilt bridge, the one the kraken
got to; climb the stairs painted the color of the band
around your arm.
If he kept walking long enough, the dust would
scrape off the bottom of his feet eventually.
Jack climbed the narrow old stairs to the students
dorms, trying to think what he needed to pack. His
medicine bag, certainly, though he should leave a store of
balms and potions for the others. Bidis drawing and the
bedroll Bea had made him; and the book on ancient
tacticians Grey had given him. Clothes, his travelling
backpack
He should probably leave his Academy uniform
here.
It had been uncomfortable anyway.
Jack leapt up the last steps, moved that old known
number of steps down the dim hall and opened the door.
The sign on it swung on a crooked nail, S. Grey, J. Farris.
He closed the door quietly and leaned against it.
Three books were open on Greys bed and a fourth was

285

being used as a hard surface for him to write out his notes.
Greys head had dropped down onto the pages of one.
When Jack moved closer, it appeared to be an Elsewhere
theory text; Grey was probably planning some new
experiments with Laney.
The boy breathed slowly in and out with a fluttery
snore. Jack picked up Greys pens and set them aside to
keep them from bleeding ink on the sheets.
Jack pulled his brown leather knapsack out from
under his desk. It was already packed. It was always
packed. He tucked a few new medicines in the pockets
and tied his bedroll to hang from the bottom of the pack.
He unpinned the clumsy childs drawing from the wall
and slipped it between the title page and the cover of the
tactician book, and slipped that into the top of the pack.
Jack stole a sheet of paper off Greys mess of
blankets and picked up one the pens hed rescued. Grey
whuffled out a breath and buried a little further under his
quilt. Jacks desk looked oddly clear, stacked with
nothing but an organized pile of the medicines he was
leaving behind. He didnt bother sitting down. He wrote
in one quick scrawl,
Something important came up. Dont worry. Dont
expect me back
Jack picked up his pack, slinging it over a
shoulder, and flexed his toes. Time to see if his soles
remembered how to deal with mountain pebbles, if his
toes remembered how to deal with mountain chill. He
twiddled the pen in his hand, which he hadnt put down
yet. He leaned over and added onto the note,
for a little while.
-Jack

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287

Chapter Twenty-Two. A Misdirect.

In Jacks first fall away from home he still
dreamed of heroesexcept thats a lie, that still. Jack
always dreamed of heroes.

288

289

Chapter Twenty-Three. Promises to

Keep.
It was a long walk.
Jack went out past the practice courts where two
combat specs clashed in a late night spar. He nodded to
them. One of them came to help sometimes with Reds
sessions. Jack went under the high gate, up the dusty
streets, past the sites of old adventures and Greys
bookshops. He went by Sally-Annes, bustling even in the
dark. He walked on.
Jack paused near the easternmost edge of the city.
There were still houses and factories but they were sparse
enough that he could see the horizon clearly. The
mountains were small stark shapes, putting in comical
relief the absurdity of calling this walk, this town, long.
The moon was bright enough to bathe everything in
pearly light. Jack thought that by the end of the journey
surely hed remember what it felt like to leave miles
behind you every day.
Where are you going, Farris?
When he turned around, Laney Jones was standing
in the middle of the empty road behind him, arms crossed.
Were you following me?
I was out shooting, she said. I saw you leave.
So thats a yes, then, he said. Lane, where I go
is my business, not anyone elses.

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I thought you might be headed out to an

adventure. The kneecaps of villains are more rewarding
than targets. She walked to him, voice cheery but with a
wary look in her dark eyes. So where we going, Jackie?
Jack put his hands in his pockets. Behind him, the
moonlit shapes of the mountains were sharp against a
black sky. Its not unobvious, Laney.
Youre leaving, she said.
Not forever, but.
And you didnt think to tell any of us? She
frowned, stepping forward. Why are you going
anywhere, Jack? Were about to graduate. Youll have
your badge.
I just have to, okay, Laney? Tell the others goodbye for me.
She stared. This is insane. Jack, you cant just
throw away a year and a half of work, of your life.
Its my life, Laney.
You cant just walk out on us.
Jack swallowed, hard, then said, Im not. Or, I
can. You dont know where all my priorities lie, Laney. I
have promises to keep. There are bigger things in the
world than this school.
There was a deep rumble and a sharp blast. The
street shook. A shockwave sent anything smaller than an
automobile flying.
Laney spit out dust as the street settled. What was
that? She helped Jack to his feet.
A small plume of smoke, barely visible in the
moonlight, was just beginning to rise. It looks like its
somewhere downriver, said Jack, peering through dust
and gloom.
Laney and Jack looked at each other. Jack
adjusted the brown knapsack over his shoulder. Well?
he said. She started to smile. Lets go check that out,
before I go.

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They went back through the darkened city.

It looks likethe merchants district?
Near that inn that had the imps in its basement,
Jack agreed. What do you think that was?
Magic gone wrong? said Laney. Machines
gone wrong? A giant fell over?
They sound a bit squishier than that, said Jack.
Theyd almost made it to the inn when someone hit them
from behind.
Jack swum back into consciousness through a
throbbing painit seemed like he was doing this a lot
lately. The room that swam into view was dark and dank,
with a cellars unfurnished walls.
Ugh. Not this again, he said. Jack let his eyes
sag shut. Im really tired of being locked up places.
You and me both, squirrel. Laney was already
awake and sitting up, Jack saw when he opened his eyes
again.
Any ideas who? He scrubbed at his face.
Who nabbed us? Take a look. Laney nodded at
the space behind him, wry. I think he might want his gun
back.
Jack turned around. Watcher grinned down at him,
cocked back a fist, and punched Jack across the jaw.
Bracing himself with one hand, Jack spitit was
tinged pink, but it didnt feel like hed lost any teeth. Th
hell?
Thats for getting us arrested, said Watcher,
calmly, and walked away to go lean against the far wall.
Youre welcome, said Jack. He pulled himself to
standing. He staggered over to Laney, exaggerating his
hurt; on closer examination she was scared as well as
sarcastic. Jack could see it in the defiant set of her jaw.
Whats going on?

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Laney shrugged shortly. He nabbed us. I saw the

main fellow, from the fish shop hold-up, too.
Talker?
Yeah, she said. Theyre up to something. They
saw us, and didnt want us interrupting them again.
Just our luck.
Maybe it is your luck, she said. Maybe we
need to be here. I think theyre the source of our
explosion. I think whatever theyre up to has already
started.
Im not sure my luck works that way, said Jack.
Buttheres something weird. Its like theres a
humming, but too high for me to hear.
I dont feel anything, she said.
How do we get out? said Jack, with a sidelong
eye at Watcher. The man picked at his teeth with a
toothpick; he looked tired. Watcher was less stiffly aware
than he had been in Sallys, that afternoon so many
months ago, probably because he thought he had his prey
locked up and safe. If theyre up to something, we need
to stop them, or warn somebody.
We have to get out, said Laney.
Jack looked around, thinking hard.
Laney made a small sound like an epiphany or a
prayer. Every point of the Elsewhere is everywhere
else she breathed.
What?
Laney stood in the center of the room, two hands
half-raised. Jack, I have an idea, she said softly.
Well, Im fresh out, he said. And Im really
tired of being trapped places.
I need you to stand in his line of sight, said
Laney quietly. She turned around, facing Jack, who put
his tall back to Watcher. Laney was tall, but most of her
fit behind Jack despite his narrow shoulders.

293

Laney lifted a finger and, like in the other

basement cell, drew a long, thin split in the air, but this
time all the way down to the ground. Gold light lit her
cheekbones as curling tendrils of magic tried to creep
from the surgical slice in the universe. Wish me luck,
she whispered, trying to grip the slit closed.
What are you doing? whispered Jack.
Laney lifted a foot and slipped it through the cut,
into the fire.
She wrinkled a nose. That feels a little funny.
She pushed the rest of her leg through the slit in the air; it
didnt come out the other side.
Laney? he hissed.
Whats going on? Watcher demanded as golden
light lit streamed into the room. He moved toward them.
Jack was between him and Laney.
Laney smiled at Jack, every line of her face either
done in shining gold or deep shadow. Gotta go quick,
before I let this start leaking, she said. Laney leaned
forwardand vanished. The gold line in the air puckered
itself closed as though someone was sealing it from the
inside.
Jack stood alone in the suddenly dark basement,
Watcher advancing on him.
Well, great, he said.
Jack wondered if Laney knew what she was doing,
or if she was somewhere, burning. Cmon, luck, he
whispered. If you want me safe and sane, you gotta keep
them safe too.
What was that light? said Watcher, grabbing
Jacks shoulder and swinging him around.
Jack sighed, raising his hands in an expressive
shrug. Be damned if I know.
Wheres the girl?

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Hint? When you kidnap a mage, you might want

to invest in an Elsewhere quartzI know theyre pricey,
dude, but theyre worth it.
Watcher shoved Jack out of the way, staring
behind him as though Laney ought to just appear.
Admittedly, it wouldnt have helped you much in
this case, but thats hardly anyones fault. No ones
prepared for Laney Jones.
You did something, said Watcher, she did
somethingmages cant ever transport people. And they
cant transport themselves! Watcher grabbed Jacks shirt
and slammed him into the wall. We put wards up on
every inch of these wallsno one can pass through, or
blast through, orthis is impossible!
Jack saw his brown knapsack in the corner. Oh,
good, he said, the words a little strained from the fist
shoving up against his breastbone. Im fond of that bag.
Id have hated it if you lost it.
(In the back of his head, a girl with golden curls
snapped, a lifetime ago, You get flippant when youre
worried, Jackand right now youre terrified. You want
to tell me what the hells going on?).
Watcher gritted out, Where is she? Wheres she
hiding? Who is she alerting about us? I will beat it out of
you. Each phrase was supplemented with Jack being
lifted and slammed back against the wall again.
Well, groaned Jack. We cant have that. The
next time Watcher moved to shove him, Jack hooked a
leg behind his ankles and shoved him back. Watcher went
sprawling. He was up on his feet in a swift second, but
Jack came in again, swinging one callused fist.
It wasnt a battle; it was a brawlpunches, kicks,
shoves, throws. Jack slammed to the ground, slammed his
opponent to the ground, and felt something joyous and
thrilled rise up in his chest.

295

This bruising, these splinters shoved into the

palms of his hands, the cold twinge of his anklethere
was something so much simpler in those littler hurts, than
in the lines of his life these days.
Jack hated the amorphous worry wrapped up in his
fears for the mountains and the people he loved who lived
in them; hated the sudden, sharp worry for Laneys
willing leap into the glowing void. This violence and this
bruising were so much sweeter than dwelling on how
much Jack hated leaving people behind. He hatedhe
slammed a fist into Watchers jaw, splitting knuckles on
the bonehe hated, Jack hated, he hated it.
There was something so much simpler in this than
in thinking about how tall the daughter of one of his best
friends was now, compared to the day when theyd buried
her father.
Jack skidded to the ground, taking the brunt of the
impact on his forearms just like theyd tried to teach the
stable loft gang (Clark still flinched when he fell; Heather
had mastered it like an art form). He felt like every bone
in him was bruised, but Jack groaned, and rolled over, and
surged to his feet.
Watcher grinned at him. A split lip streaked his
teeth red. Jack raised fists that were bruised and bleeding.
Click. The lock on the basement door opened
quietly.
When Watcher turned around, one of Laneys
entrapment spells caught him square in the face. She
uncoiled another one from her wrists calmly and glued the
big man to the far wall. Laney turned to Jack. Hey there,
Farris. Miss me?
How did you get out? How are you?
Rupert came down the steps, pocketing his lock
picks. Grey stumbled down behind him, his wide eyes
paired with Ruperts dry You look a little worse for
wear.

296

You should see the other guy, said Jack. Well,

he said, and gestured at Watcher, struggling against
Laneys spell. The wide gold bands holding Watcher to
the wall were fading to invisibility, as all non-active
magic did, but were not fading at all in strength.
Laney, how did you you went into the
Elsewhere.
Grey popped around her, still bouncing with
excitement despite his pallor. There was this flash! he
said. Thought Id imagined it. Didnt pay any attention.
Then there was anotheranotherit was Laney
compressing the Elsewhere for percussive purposes
Knocking, explained Rupert. Laney grinned
smugly.
Yeah, it was very startling.
By startled, said Rupert quietly to Jack, Grey
means got so ill I almost fell over. We figured it out
soon enough, though. He drew out one of those ward
circles of hisand then Laney stepped through.
Even with the ward circle it almost ate me before
she managed to close it, though, said Grey. I think Ive
got a patch for it, now, though.
It was a good thing both of the slits were small,
and neat, and mine, said Laney. She shivered. Sealing
that up from the inside washard. I wasnt sure I could
do it.
I wasnt sure you could make it through alive,
said Jack.
That was a trick, too, said Laney.
Grey was pale, paler even than fear should
account for. You okay, pip? she said.
He shook his head. Yeah, yeah. Just, somethings
wrong. I can feel it.
Lets get you out of here, said Jack.
Hey, said Grey. We showed up to save your
behind, not mine. He made a face. You look awful.

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Grey rubbed his hands together swiftly, throwing sparks.

Cmere, he said, and wrapped glowing hands around
Jacks arm.
It wasnt healing so much as pouring energy in so
Jack could heal himself. Jack wiped blood from a nose
that was sore but no longer broken. Thanks.
They moved up the stairs, quietly, and came out in
what looked like the main hallway of the inn.
There was a crash in the front room. The four of
them froze. Rupert raised a hand and waved them quietly
down the hallway in the other direction. Theres an exit
this way, he murmured, low. They pushed through into a
dimly lit dining room. Ruperts light feet staggered to a
stop.
Rupe? What is it? whispered Laney.
Rupert stood, staring, two paces into the room,
beside stacked chairs and a wide, polished table. Grey,
can you go down, yank those bonds off Watcher from a
safe distance, and then seal him in the basement?
What? said Laney, but Jack could smell it.
On the floor in front of Rupert lay Twitchy, the
fake mage from the fish shop. There were deep slashes in
his torso and abdomen. His left leg from the knee down
was missing. All of the wounds were semi-cauterized
burned.
Rupert explained quietly, Lets not leave anyone,
not even him, trussed up to die. Dont want Watcher
following us either, though. Laney, go with Grey, keep
him safe?
Back in a shot, she said.
What did this? said Jack, moving closer to
Twitchys corpse. It was still smoking.
I dont know. Those cauterizations werent done
to stem the bleeding. I think they happened as part of the
original wound. The acrid stench of Elsewhere mingled
with burned flesh and spilled intestines.

298

Something with access to magic, said Jack.

And whatever it is, it looks like its still at large. He put
a hand over his mouth and nose, trying not to breathe too
deep.
The door behind them snicked open; Jack turned
swiftly, drawing a long knife from his knapsack. Laney
and Grey stepped inside. Done. Lets go. Grey sidled
around the pile of cauterized flesh.
So what do we do now? Rupert said. Whatever
this thing is its certainly not safeits got fire, some
kind of bladed edges, and it doesnt seem to be killing to
feed. It was a clinical assessment, an edge of panic
lurking at the back of his throat.
Find Sez? The Rangers? said Jack. Or go
looking for it ourselves? He pushed open the side door.
They stepped out into a world on fire. I think we
found it, said Laney.

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Chapter Twenty-Four. A Light

To Burn By.
The street was studded with flamesthe awning
on the rival inn across the way, the roasted chestnut stand
toppled in the road with its owner crumpled next to it. The
butchers shop was catching rapidly. Jack ran to the fallen
chestnut salesman, pulling out his medical bag.
We need to put that fire out, before more things
catch, said Rupert, looking around for the nearest well.
Damn. The closest is
Here. Grey swept his hands in front of him,
hauling hank after hank of magic out of the air. Laney,
help me? he said, tossing her a shining bundle.
What are you thinking? she said, molding the
fire in her hands.
Fire cant keep going if it cant breatheit needs
oxygen. But just around the rafters; if theres a person in
there I dont want to suffocate them.
Laney nodded and together they stretched the
magic into glittering gold sheets that they flung up and
wrapped around the roof beams of the butchers shop.
Hes gone, Jack called, rising beside the
chestnut mans body. His face was drawn in grim lines.
Same demon, I think. What is it? He looked over at
Rupert. Ive never seen anything like this before.

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I havent, said Rupert, rather pale. And Ive

been hunting longer than you.
Jack didnt contest the statement.
Laney and Grey moved to the inns awning.
Flames sputtered out under the eerie gold strangle of their
magic. Jack banged on the door of the butchers shop,
which had a charred and gaping hole in its front window.
Anyone in there? Is anyone injured? Im a medic.
Yes please, came the cry. The firethe
monsterit attacked my son
Ok, Im going in, Jack said. Where did the
creature go?
Its still
A mass of gold fire surged out of the butcher store
window, slamming Jack in the shoulder and sending him
flying back into the street.
The fire demonJack didnt know what else to
call it, and demon seemed about righthovered above
the dirt street. Jack tore off his old worn jacket and
stamped out the flames. His shoulder was warm and
stinging, but not badly burned. Lucky me, he
whispered. The demon circled and Jack took a moment to
assess their enemy.
Across the street, Rupert dug into the big bag over
his shoulder and took out two swordsone he slid across
the street to Jack.
The demon was made of Elsewhere fire the way
Things were made of shadow. It blazed and twisted. It
was hard to stare directly at it, but the lopsided mass
seemed to be growing limbs, reaching and quivering. It
swerved and then charged at Jack, growing jagged jaws it
opened wide.
Jack got the sword up between him and itgood,
enchanted steeland sent it skidding through the air
away from him. Behind the long, sharp teeth, there had
been a pit of deep black. Jack was not very interested in

301

going down that dark gullet, or meeting those flaming

teeth.
Grey? said Laney, hands wide. Toss me some
firepower.
Yesm. The street blazed an even brighter gold.
With the cold ease of practice, Laney peeled razor
strips off the ball of fire Grey handed her. She whipped
them at the demon, which screeched. Where her magic
touched it, its pale gold flesh darkened to a burnt orange.
So my fire can reach you, she said, every sharp
inch of her a promise of violence. Jack, Rupert! Play
decoy. I need a moment. Laney tore off more and more
strips of magic, weaving them together, curving and
hardening them, cutting runes into the air. Some had been
painstakingly learned from textbook pages; others shed
written herself. The ones she had drawn strand by strand
out of her imagination glowed brightest.
Rupert and Jack charged it from either side. It
shrieked, slashing at Rupert with newly grown claws and
spitting white flame at Jack. Jack ducked, skidding under
it, and managed to drag the tip of his sword through the
creature. Rupert parried claws.
Laney shook out what looked like a doily made of
fire. She stretched it, fingers twisting. Out of the way,
boys! Rupert and Jack jumped away and she threw the
spell over the creature.
As though the lines of fire were a heavy weight,
the demon thudded to the ground. The spells edges
locked into the dirt and blazed a bright gold, beginning to
fade from sight. The demon surged against the bonds
again and again but broke against them like they were
iron bars.
Laney unraveled the Tyr spiral knot on her left
ankle, drawing out handful after handful of stored magic.
This one had taken her days to construct. Im going to
see if I can do something a little more permanent than

302

that, she said. Laney threw the globs of gold fire down
onto the demon, wrapping the power around it like a
blanket, like a strait jacket. The demon screamed.
Grey! said Laney. He added his own fire to hers,
both of them squeezing tight. The bound demon and their
magic grew brighter and brighter, a high-pitched screech
sounding through all their skulls.
When Jack thought his head was about to explode,
everything went dark.
Jack blinked into the sudden nightthe street had
briefly been as bright as high noon, the colors of the inns
and shops stark and friendly.
Now, in the dark, he saw a crater had been seared
into the street. The demon was gone.
The four of them panted and gasped in the sudden
silence. Jack went for the butchers shop, digging through
his knapsack for his medical kit.
Grey, what was that? said Rupert.
Grey stared at the blackened crater in the dirt. I
have no idea. But at least its gone.
You have no idea? Laney whistled. Well, hell.
She tossed the used-up remains of her Tyr spiral anklet
into the black pit.
Two streets away, a flash of gold flame lit the
night.
No way, said Laney. Another one?
In the opposite direction, there was a thunder, a
crash, and a flash of light. No, said Rupert, staring
down the street at the signs of another demon. Where are
they coming from?
How many are there? said Jack, coming out of
the butchers shop. He added, I got the fellow in there
stable, but hes going to need a real healer.
There was a screech. Another demon came
screaming down the road, searing past them, leaving
flames flickering quietly in the dirt in its wake.

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Enough, I think, said Grey. What do we do?

We need to warn people, said Rupert. Stop that
from happening to sleeping civilians, he said, with a nod
at the butchers shop.
Just knocking on doors? said Jack. How useful
is that going to be? It might be most useful to just shout at
the top of our lungs as we run back to the Academy. We
need to get more people out here who can help stop these
things. We need to tell the Rangers.
Well, this might help, said Grey. It should at
least wake some people up.
Grey dragged his fingers through the air,
collecting sparks. He cupped his hands over his mouth
and blew like someone trying to catch tinder alight. Gold
light glowed and surged, getting brighter and brighter.
When it was so bright Jack had to close tearing eyes, Grey
took his hands away from his mouth and tossed his
handful of fire upward.
Laney, the only one who had kept her eyes open,
gasped.
The whole sky was set alight. It looked like a fiery
dawn.
Alright, said Grey. And now that Ive got a few
peoples attention He put one hand out in front of him,
at eye level. His palm was flat, as though he pressed up
against something only he could see. Greys eyes fluttered
shut, but his mouth crooked into a smile. Hey, Lane. So
this is what a communications spell looks like
And every speck of space for thirty miles around
resounded
DANGER NEAR REDWATER STREET AND
PARISH WAY. IF NOT DEFENSIBLE EVACUATE
YOUR DWELLINGS. DEMONS ON THE STREETS.
UNSAFE. EVACUATE AND MOVE CALMLY TO
SAFE LOCATIONS.

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Grey twisted his hand and blinked his eyes open.

The message went on, repeating the same words. The sky
went on glowing a fine, unnatural gold. Jack had his
hands over his ears.
I put it on a loop, said Grey. Itll keep going
for another ten minutes, then repeat at half hour
intervals Grey blinked again, taking in their wide-eyed
expressions, and his face sunk into a mulish scowl.
Yeah, he said to their unspoken words. But if I walk
by a ward without holding my breath, I tear it off its
bearings. Dont call me lucky yet.
To the Academy, then, said Rupert, starting to
move. A shape sprinted out a nearby inn; Rupert nearly
stabbed him.
Whats happening? It was a wide-eyed man in a
top hat; he grabbed Ruperts arm in the middle of the
street. Hammersfeld, whats going on?
Mr. Simmons, said Rupert. No, Jack, wait
this is good. Mr. Simmons, can you contact your
colleagues?
The Knights? said Mr. Simmons. We were
already meetingdiscussing our affairsa glowing
monster came into the room and ate Anthony!
Im very sorry, said Rupert. Youre meeting in
here? he asked, and pushed past Mr. Simmons to the inn
behind him.
There were about thirty men in the inns central
room, as well as an air of shock and a bloodied, burned
wooden chair. Two of the men were as well-dressed as
Mr. SimmonsKnight bosses. One of the men was
Bartholomew Greez. Bart caught sight of the entering
foursome and raised one thick brow.
Did you all hear the alerts? said Rupert.
Of course they heard the alert, muttered Grey,
nearly inaudibly. Everybody heard it. I know what Im
doing.

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You Knights say youre the protectors of the

downriver city, said Rupert. We need you. There are
monsters on the streetssend the people with the proper
training out to run clean-up. There are scared civilians
they need to be evacuated and protected. Onto one of the
islands maybe. A bridge will make it so there are only one
or two points of access that need to be guarded.
Bart took a long look at his superiors, who were
still pale from recent attack, and then he started barking
out names. You threetake Candlestick RoadShen,
Fosters, you go clear Drapers Lane. Mr. Simmons, said
Bartholomew. The gaping leader startled. Can you and
your men secure Driftwood Island and Gatekeepers
Island? Explain to them whats happening, that well be
sending civilians in, and make sure nothings already
crept over the bridges?
My men can do that, said Simmons, gathering
up his dignity with his top hat and sweeping out of the
room.
Well take the north bank, said the other boss,
straightening.
And mine will run the street sweeps, said the
last. Theyve the best combat training, he explained,
haughty.
Yes, of course, Mr. Fynes, said Bart. He nodded
at Rupert. You go wake your Academy.
Rupert saluted. Sir, yes, sir.
Ill get Sez on this, too, Bart said quietly as the
four Academy students left. Shell be able to get people
to move
The Academy was already in a muted chaos when
arrived. Greys message had reached here, too. While
Rupert informed his uncle of the details, Jack headed
straight for the Rangers quarters. Laney and Grey went
along with him. Nobody had thought their presence would

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put Heads in a frame of mind more likely to listen to his

nephew.
Jack rapped on the door. Sarge opened it half in
fighting clothes and with a naked sword in his hand.
Farris? Grey, who hadnt yet met Sarge, a man famous
for three decades of heroics in the mountains, stared and
kept his head down, hiding behind dark hair that needed
trimming. You know what that comm was about?
Was in the middle of it, said Jack. Big masses
of murderous magic floating around town. Ruperts
getting the rest of the Academy roused and were meeting
in the courtyard to strategize.
Sarge looked over his shoulder. Faster, he said
back into the room in a battleground voice. Rustles,
thumps and an affectionate cat-call sounded inside; the
Rangers had roused and started preparing as soon as they
heard the alert. Go on, boy. Well meet you there.
Jack nodded. Sir.
I was expecting wed have to argue a bit more
before they believed us, said Laney, as they jogged
away.
Mm, said Jack. Lets hope Rupert got as
lucky.
Ruperts headshake when Jack, Laney, and Grey
poured into the main courtyard was less than hopeful.
Heads stalked out in front of his nephew, heading toward
the redheaded troublemaker.
Jack ducked around him without a pause. He
knocked on a first floor window until he heard a thump
inside. The window creaked open. Wha? said Leaf,
bright-eyed and adrenalin-fueled from Greys echoing
message. Jack, did you hear it, too? Whats going on?
Theres a scourge of demons in Rivertown, said
Jack. Go get Red, and wrangle up everyone you can.
Have them meet in the courtyard.
Leaf startled, scrubbed his eyes, and saluted.

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These are students, said Heads. Jack backed

away from the window as Leaf tumbled out the door. His
mage roommate was stirring in the other bunk (they had a
test in the morning; the mage had thought Redwater and
Parish were far away enough that going back to sleep was
the appropriate response to the evacuation notice).
You, too, Johnson, get out here, Jack told Leafs
roommate.
Heads stalked in front of Jack. These are
students, he repeated.
And theyre training to be heroes, Jack told the
shorter man in his path.
Yes, training. I will not allow them to be thrown
into things they arent ready for, not while they are under
my protection.
And whose protection are the people in this town
under? said Jack. They need us. They need all of us.
There are protocols. There are safeties. There are
training periods.
Damn the protocols, Uncle, said Rupert. Heads
whirled around, staring at his nephew. There are people
dying.
Students were pouring and staggering through the
doors, out into the courtyard. Whats going on? Gloria
and Heather crept close to Laney and Rupert. A tall,
sleepy Clark shadowed them.
Somethings attacking Rivertown, said Leaf,
buzzing past as he shepherded waking students out. He
dashed back up the stairs to recheck rooms.
Students, back to bed, said Heads. You all have
class in the morning. There are authorities who are meant
to handle this, surely; not children.
We are the authorities, said Sarge. The Rangers
walked into the courtyard and quiet fell. Heads clapped
his mouth shut, pale and furious. Somethings going on
in town, said Sarge. I wont lie and tell you its not

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dangerous, because it is. Were taking volunteers only.

Im asking more of you than maybe I should, but people
are hurting out there. I dont know about all of you, but
thats why I signed up.
Sarge turned his grizzled head, addressing the
group as a whole, the barefoot heroes, the mages in their
pajamas. I dont know you well, and I dont know all the
details of the situation, so Im going to let Jack take
over.
Throughout the crowd, heads swiveled. Jack
looked at all the waiting eyes, the waiting faces, of the
boys and girls, the men and women he was sending to
battle. He felt self-conscious of the blood the fight with
Watcher had left on his shirt. Creatureslike demons
made of magicare loose in the city. We saw at least half
a dozen on our way back to campus. We need to get the
civilians out, we need to figure out where these things are
coming from, and we need to stop them. He took a
breath. Rupe? If you could fill everybody in further
Rupert nodded, stepping forward. They seem to
be made of magic, the way Things in the Darkness are
magic-imbued shadow. Shapeshifters, semi-solid, and
they set what they touch on fire. They can be hurt by
enchanted steel, or magicbut it takes a lot of magic. I
dont think we have anyone with us who could ice more
than one or two without burning out
While Rupert continued to describe every quietly
catalogued relevant detail of their night, Jack skirted the
edge of the group until he found Red.
Farris, said the combat spec. Did you hear that?
Sarge called you by name.
Red, Im going to need you to break everyone up
into groups. One mage, per, for fire controlGreys
going to explain how they can do that. Two fighters per
group, if we have enoughthe official heroes and combat
specs, but our fighters tooclose combat or some of our

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shooters. Laney can fix up their ammo so itll work

against the monsters. I dont think our hand-to-hand folk
are going to be able to fight the demons directly, but they
can help with evacuation. Jack made a face. And I bet
therell be a few looters around, too, and they can help
with those.
One mage, at least two fighters who can work
together effectively Red repeated back.
Oh, and anyone with medical trainingcheck
guides and sages, theyre the most likely to.
Okay, said Red. Ill start.
Leafd probably be usefulhe pays attention to
people, who gets along, who doesnt
Yeah, I know, said Red. Go handle the rest of
it, Farris. Ive got this.
Ruperts speech was winding down. Jack headed
over to Laney and Grey. Laney, can you magic as much
ammo as you can, or teach the other mages how to do it?
She nodded. Grey, I need you to explain your fire
extinguisher trick to everyone with magic.
Will do.
Were sending out people in groups to clear the
streets, evacuate people, said Jack. He waved Sarge over.
Once Ruperts done, I think we four should try to look
for the source of the demons. Until we do that, everything
else is just containment and we can only do that for so
long.
Laney and Grey dispersed to talk to the mages.
Hey, Sarge, said Jack. I dont know what you want to
do, but I think it might be useful for your five to split up
and head out with some of the student groups Reds
organizing. Very few of them have ever been under fire
before. Theres gonna be some panic attacks.
Red?

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The tall, coastal combat spec over there, said

Jack. He grinned and added, Hes got family in the
Dreads. Sarge raised a grey brow.
I think well split, said Sarge. Ill have Flash
hook us all up with comm spellssee if he can get one to
each of your student Leagues, too.
Redll be the person to go to about groups, said
Jack. Hes setting them up.
Sarge nodded. Ill let him know.
So, this sounds like a rift, said a voice somberly
over Jacks shoulder. He turned around; the Rangers sage
stood behind him, tall and bony, grim.
A rift? said Sarge. Go on, Harris. Explain.
A tear in the fabric, said the sage. These
monsters Jacks friend was describingthey sound like
something Ive heard referenced in some very rare old
texts, a creature which lives in the Elsewhere.
Like a Thing? said Jack.
Its an Other Thing, said the Rangers sage, with
a bit of a grin.
Like a Things bigger, glowier brother, Jack
paraphrased faintly.
If I had to bet, Id say theres an open rift to the
Elsewhere somewhere in the city, and thats what these
things are barreling out from.
I think I know where, said Jack. Damn it.
Theres thisthis posse. Weve tangled with them before.
Last time we saw them, one of them had gotten
voluntarily possessed by something that sounds a lot like
this. And we saw them in town tonight, too, right where
we met our first demon.
Where were they? said Sarge.
In an inn, downriver.
Sarge nodded. And if its a rift, he said, what
do you do to close it, Harris?

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The sage pursed his lips. They arentrifts arent

things that happen. Not in recent history. Theyre all
tangled up in walking star mythology, and
dragonsingersreal ancient stuff, back when the
Elsewhere and our world overlapped a little more. He
shook his head. We cant let any of the mages get too
close. II dont know how you would shut it. Maybe we
should just block off the inn, and put a big ward circle
around it?
I can shut it.
The sage turned around sharply; Sarge did so as
well, but slower.
Laney had her two hands tucked in her Academy
jacket. She met Sarges eyes levelly. Ill do it.
Youre a mage, said the sage. You cant. Itll
itll eat you.
No, she said. It wont.
Shes right, said Jack. Laney can do it.
And well get her there. Rupert had come up on
Jacks other side. I know the area, and weve tussled
with that gang before. I think the student groups and the
rest of the town need you Rangers more than we do.
Youre not even graduated, kid, said Sarge.
Neither is Jack, and you tossed him the reins
easily enough, said Rupert. Ive been hunting in this
city since I was fourteen, and with these kids for the last
year. So, excuse me, sirs, but we have work to do and so
do you.
Sarge looked like he wanted to snap back, but the
sage grinned wide and said, I like him, Farris. Good
find.
Okay, boys, and Miss
Just Jones, said Laney.
Jones? said Sarge. He took a long breath,
looking at her. Laney stared back, chin high and hard and
brashly certain, and he smiled despite himself,

312

bittersweet. Alright. You three find the rift, and close it.
Well take care of the rest.
Im coming, too, said Grey.
But said Jack, cutting off a protest that would
have spilled things Grey wanted kept quiet.
Ill let you handle this. Sarge clapped Jack on
the shoulder, a flash of mischief in a stern face, and
headed toward the rest of his League.
Grey, what if it eats you? said Jack.
I can help up until were close, and then Ill draw
a ward circle. But youre not leaving me here with the
other noncombatants, said Grey. Im not letting you all
go out alone, and Im not letting you leave me.
Jack swallowed. Okay. He looked around the
courtyard. Red had pulled students into groups of four and
fiveHeather, Gloria, Bradley, and Fitz in one. Clement,
Clark, a tiny first-year sage sharp-shooter, and a mage
Jack didnt know formed another. Leaf was with Red,
who stood talking to the Rangers. They had a big map of
the city laid out in the dirt before them. They marked out
sectors and gave assignments.
People were running in and out of the dorms,
getting gear and weapons. A collection of mages were
weaving spells and sinking them into the metal skins of
dozens of bullets. A young woman with purple-black hair
rushed into the courtyard. Rupert! said Sez. She jogged
over.
Ive got evacuation efforts going all through the
surrounding neighborhoods, Sez said when she was
closer. Collaborating with the Knights of all people. Bart
says youre sending teams out, too? She glanced around
their bustling courtyard. Greys gold mist still hung over
the whole town. Sallys shop is nearly in the middle of it
all, and its got Laneys wards, so weve been dropping
the injured there who we cant drag all the way to the
islands.

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We can set that up like a med ward? said Jack.

Okay, we can send some combat specs and whatever
medic folk we have over there if Sally doesnt mind
maybe have a mage make another announcement that
thats a safe spot, and that some town healers should head
there if they can?
Sounds good, said Sez. Ive got some more
folk to wrangle, she said. You good here?
Go, Sez, said Rupert.
Everyone, do you know where Sally-Annes is?
Jack shouted in his best battleground voice, modeled after
Sarges own. If not, ask a friend. Thats our medical and
supplies centernon-combat medics, head there.
Ill handle supplies, kid, said a grumbly voice at
Jacks shoulder. Rhones nodded at him when he turned.
Ill round up the maintenance staff, and some of the
littler students, and well cart whats needed over there.
Get Red to assign you some guards, said Jack.
Thanks, professor.
Jack heaved a large breath and turned back to the
three Academy students waiting for him. Laney checked
her guns, running both fingers and magic over them.
Rupert adjusted his bag, sword hilts sticking out of it.
Ready to run, squirrel? said Grey, weaponless,
nothing but his mind and the way power screamed to tear
itself from the world for him.
Yeah, said Jack. Lets go.

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315

Chapter Twenty-Five. Miss Jones.

Jack called Laney Miss Jones for the first three
months of their acquaintanceup until she shot a Thing
that was charging him from behind and, as the shadowy
figure writhed in gold flame until it hissed out to nothing,
said, Stop treating me like a glass statue, Farris. Its
Jones or its Laney. If you Miss me again, Ill shoot you
in the foot.
Grey called Laney Miss Jones for years; he
thought her hilarious when furiously irritated. It started
out simply to annoy her. Many of the things Grey had
done in his lifetime had been merely to watch others fire
up with annoyance.
But it was a name that grew, as names have a way
of doing.
Miss Jones, Grey said, and meant to see how
irritating he could be before she broke. Oy Miss Jones! he
shouted across battlefields, asking for backup, knowing it
would come. Miss Jones, he said, at the funeral of a good
man, and held her hand, and didnt have to say anything
more.

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317

Chapter Twenty-Six. The Rift.

So what was it like? said Grey. They were
jogging through the streets. Rivertown was eerily quiet,
abandoned, except for when the whole scene blazed gold
where a demon clashed with a group of Knights or
Academy students. The group of four ran past each battle;
they had a job to do.
The Elsewhere? said Laney. It takes you
apart. Her voice was hushed, awed. There were no
thingssorry, bad word choice. There were no edges.
There wasnt even a me, not really. I got lost, for a little
while, til I found myself again. And then I reached out
like I do here, finding the wall of the Elsewhere to
breakand tried to find you two on the other side of the
wall.
How did you find yourself? said Rupert.
Scraped knees, said Laney simply.
How did you find us? said Grey.
Well, pip, youre like a black hole. Youre a
pretty good honing beacon.
Oh, said Grey.
But you also feel likeink. You obscure, and
you illuminate. Ruperts a horizon. She blushed, just
slightly, barely visible under the dark flush of the run.
You guys brought me home.

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The inn rose up before them. We were here,

said Rupert. This wouldve been a lot easier if wed
figured it out sooner.
I havent even heard of the scrolls the Rangers
sage mentioned, protested Grey. Hed started getting
pale half a block from the inn, which suggested they were
moving in the right direction. Theyre really rare.
I wasnt saying it was your fault, Grey.
Its my job to know things in this group, said
Grey. It kinda is my fault.
They pushed in through the side door, skirting
Twitchys corpse with grimaces, some more sympathetic
than others. Where do you think they would have done
it?
Jack opened the door that led from the windowed
dining room to the main hallway and was blasted back by
a blast of gold light.
I think were going in the right direction, he
groaned from the floor as a demon hovered into the room,
the air around it screaming protest.
Uh, said Grey. Is it just me or is this one a bit
bigger?
The others had been about the size of a human
torso, and sent out flares and half-formed limbs a few feet
farther than that. This one was taller and wider than Jack
was from finger tip to finger tip. Its flared limbs scoured
charred tracks in the high ceiling and the polished wood
floor.
I think it ate some of its friends, said Grey
dubiously.
Mine, said the demon. GET OUT.
Oh great, said Grey. Theyre sentient.
We just want to get by, Rupert tried. If you
would excuse us?
You want to CLOSE the DOOR. No.

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Flames flicked up the floor, up the leg of the

dining room table. Grey hastily threw a suffocating sheet
of magic over the fire.
I WILL eat your hearts instead.
Well, we tried diplomacynext tact, said Jack.
He took a few steps back, swinging his sword
experimentally. Lane, he added in an undertone, If we
can distract it this way, you slip by and try to find the
rift. She nodded.
Mine, said the demon. This SPACE. The Breaker
Of Walls PROMISED. It sidled back and forth in a flicker
of greedy light. And I want that MAGE too. He BURNS.
Yeah, said Jack, while Grey paled in the corner
of his eye. Thats not going to happen.
The demon charged only to meet with Jack and
Ruperts swords. FOOLS. You will not stop me.
From behind them, Grey whipped a clumsy
streamer of magic at its body; the cut burned orange, but
the streamer turned to smoke. Oh, lovely.
Grey, draw your ward, said Jack over his
shoulder, waving his sword to keep the demon at bay
and walking backward to draw it away from the hallway
door. The kitchen opened out on the other side of the
room; if he could draw it that way
I want to help! shouted Grey back.
Youre already pale as death, pip, said Laney.
And it cant get you inside your wards, yeah?
The whole Elsewhere cant get me, Grey
muttered. I edited them
Then go. Let us worry about one less thing.
Grey dug chalk and gold wire out of his pocket,
misery in every line of his small body. The swords gave
off shrieking whistles when Rupert and Jack tore their
edges across or tips through the great gold mass of the
demon. Laneys bullets disappeared in useless flashes

320

when they hit; the demon laughed, but she emptied a full
clip into it all the same.
Cmon, ugly, Jack calledit careened over him
and rebounded off the edge of Greys wards. It threw off
hot sparks. Jack beat a small fire out of his jacket. He was
still in the old leather one he planned to wear walking
away from here.
Well, good to know that works, Rupert called to
Grey.
No kidding, Grey breathed; the demon had
come within two feet of his staring face.
Over here, youthing! Rupert called from his
corner of the room, near the library.
You need to work on your taunts, Rupe! Jack
shouted back. The demon flew towards Ruperts head; he
duckedand Laney dashed through the open door,
toward the rest of the inn.
STOP. FIEND. THIEF. MURDERER! It surged
after her.
Rupert threw the binding spell Laney had given
him at the demon. Laney disappeared around the corner.
The spell stretched into a blinding web, wrapping
around the monster and glowing a brighter and brighter
white.
And with a hiss like a murdered teakettle, the spell
burned away.
Thats disappointing, Rupert murmured. The
demon reached over with one glowing, sparking arm and
hurled Rupert through the dining room wall.
Rupert!
Wood splintered. There was a jagged hole where
Ruperts limp body had gone through. The demon surged
toward it, chortling about licking its chomps.
Dont you dare, said Jack, tearing his sword
across the demons back, conjuring a cry of pain. You
come eat me first, ugly.

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Well, if the tasty little MAGE is out of REACH

youll do. Jack caught the impression of licked lips. He
remembered the gaping, sharp-toothed jaw the other
demon had conjured for itself, and the depthless black of
its gullet. I could just EAT the luck off you.
You think Im scared of you? said Jack. A
giant talking ball of gas? He barged into the kitchen with
it screaming behind him. Dishcloths caught fire. The
copper pans caught in the demons flares shone ruddy red.
I will burn the skin off you.
I dare you to try, said Jack, sword between him
and it. You just do your worst, bucko.
It smashed through a wooden side table, sending
daggers of charred wood flying. You are a CHILD
playing at things TOO BIG FOR YOU. I am a god. I WAS
ALIVE when your ancestors first started POKING into
worlds where they DONT BELONG.
A gust of flame and darkness nearly lit Jacks hair
alight as he dove for the ground.
Too big? said Jack, and laughed. Youre a twopenny villain, ugly, dont kid yourself.
The demon screamed. Jack tore his sword through
its fire and flesh. Hissing smoke filled the air. Jack swung
the sword through the empty air in front of him, knocked
pots and pans to the floor.
You see, ugly, youre a small fry in my
fairytale. A gas light near the front of the kitchen
exploded. Jack dropped, dodging flying glass shards, and
felt his eyebrows singe. Ive walked the farthest depths
of the Forest, bucko. He sliced at it again, lunging
upwards. Ive walked the darkest parts of the mountains,
escaped the seeresss deepest dungeons.
A fiery arm surged at him. Jack lunged behind a
set of cabinets. You think youre something fearsome,
ugly? he shouted. Ive met dragons. Ive got friends
and enemiesfar more frightening than your glowy ass.

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The demon burst through the cabinets. Wood

splinters and pottery flew, shattering on the ground.
Im the Giantkiller. Jack raised his sword. The
edge had been charred black. His grin was bloody. You
dont scare me.
The demon charged for him, a jagged-tooth mouth
opening wide, dripping fire from its gaping black maw.
Jack lunged forward, trusting in every ounce of his
unwanted luck, and buried his sword through the black
mass at the monsters center.
The resulting explosion of ash and smoke blew
Jack across a prep table and slammed him into the far
wall. Jack slid down to the ground, among wood splinters
and fragments of destroyed pottery.
Well then, Jack rasped to the empty room. His
arm bled sluggishly where itd caught on the demons
fangs.
His sword was twisted and cracked. Jack kept it in
hand anyway as he staggered his way into the dining
room. He stumbled to a stop.
Greys ward circle was empty. Grey! Pip, where
are you?
Here! came the weedy call through the jagged
hole in the dining room wall.
Jack leapt through into the far room, an office,
landing on bare feet in a space conveniently clear of the
sharp splinters that littered every surface.
Rupert had landed on the wide desk and careened
off the other side to crash onto the floor. Grey knelt next
to him, hands glowing gold as he poured strength into
him. His arms broken? And maybe his tibula, maybe
something elseand hes bleeding, Jack.
Jack fell to his knees on Ruperts other side,
careful hands running over his friend. A dagger of wood,
about the size of someones thumb, had gone through
Ruperts side. Nothing obvious was broken in his leg, but

323

from the way Rupert winced, it was probably a hairline

fracture at least. It might have been more before Grey
started surging raw power through Ruperts body.
Rupe, said Jack softly.
The other young man was pale, blinking furiously
as he tried to hold onto consciousness. Jack? Jack
started setting Ruperts arm with one of the long wood
fragments of wall.
Were going to have to leave this wood in your
side, until we get you to a healer. I dont Jack licked
his lips and hoped he was right. I dont think its hit
anything vital. But if we yank it out, things are going to
start bleeding bad.
Okay, whispered Rupe. Jack, you go check on
Laney.
Jack bit his lip, then nodded. Im going.
As Jack rose, Rupert croaked, You shouldve
stayed in the ward, pip. You look like youre the one who
got thrown through a wall.
Greys cheeks were furiously wet. Im tired of
losing things I care about.
Jack walked down the hallway, checking each
room he passed, kicking down the doors. Hed left
Ruperts sword up with the other two, for all the good it
would do them, and had his twisted blade in his hand. At
the very least, he could use it as a blunt instrument
(assuming it didnt shatter on impact; but even that would
be semi-useful).
The rooms were all empty. At the end of the hall
were two doors that opened onto stairways, heading
down. One led to the basement he and Laney had been
held in. Jack opened the other and went down.
Laney was standing in the center of the room. A
jagged gold gap in spacebigger and uglier than any of
the precise ports hed ever seen Laney opensquirmed
and rippled in front of her. She had her hands half in the

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gold, tugging and tying as she brought the two edges

closer together.
Air surged through it and gold tendrils curled
outward, begging. Laney yanked and squeezed, sweat
running down the back of her neck.
Lane? he called
It doesnt want to close, she gritted out, pulling
handfuls and twisting them together, slapping at seeking
tendrils. She dug her heels into the ground and slammed
edge after jagged edge together. Sparks flew. Laney
twisted and wove, sinking her fingers deep into fire. The
whole room glowed gold.
And then the rift melded closed.
Laney stopped. Her empty hands were lifted in the
empty air around a fuzzy line that hung there, like a
vertical mirage. She took a step back and turned around,
her whole face alight as she stared up at Jack. Its done,
she said.
Behind her, the line of mirage faded into nothing
at all. The room was silent, and still.

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Chapter Twenty-Seven. In the Footsteps

of a Giant.
He had been born Jack Farris.
When Jack came home, his brothers shouted
Beanstalk with every ounce of honest affection, but they
meant a boy many feet shorter, who had never seen the
sky without a trees branches cutting a pattern through it,
unless he was sitting in one and looking up.
Jack was that boy, would be that boy always in
pockets of his heart, fighting Shadows and leaping rivers
he oughtnt to, tiny in stature and making up for it in
gumption; but Jack was also a young man who had slain
giants and lost friends.
A young man named Jack the Beanstalk left the
Forest, once, and he never truly came home.

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327

Chapter Twenty-Eight. A Light Within.

The basement room looked like it had seen a
storm. Jack could see where charms and wards against
fire and mold had ripped off the walls to surge into the
rift. Deep streaks of char marked the floor.
Laney was dragging her fingers through the air
where the rift had been, double-checking her sealing job.
Feels like air, she said.
Jack shrugged, moving the rest of the way down
the stairs. Looks like air. There was a creak behind him;
Jack leapt down to the basement floor and swerved
around, holding his twisted, blackened blade in front of
him.
Its just us, Grey called down. Paranoid
barbarian.
Hey, you lived through this day, too, said Jack.
Can you blame me? Are you sure you should be moving
him?
Grey moved down each step slowly. Rupert had
an arm around his shoulder and winced with every
movement. He said he could walk, said Grey. And he
insisted. We wont come all the way down.
Well, come on, said Jack. Lets get Rupert to a
healer. Everythings set down here. He moved towards
the stairs. Laney ran her fingers through the air one last
time and then followed.

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Jack and Laney were both too tall for Rupert to

lean on easily, so Grey stayed under his arm while the
other two fluttered around rather uselessly.
Jack? said Grey, slowly, as he tried to turn
around with upsetting Ruperts injuries.
Yeah, Grey? What is it?
Why do you have your knapsack?
Jacks stomach sank to the tips of his toes. Hed
grabbed it off the dining room door. Hed carried it with
himpast Watcher, back to the Academy, and back to the
inn again. Grey
Slow realization sank into Greys staring face.
You were leaving. The boy stood halfway down the
stairs, Ruperts arm around his shoulders, his face as pale
as if there was an Elsewhere storm brewing. You were
leaving, werent you?
Jack said, Yes. But, cmon, Grey. I dont belong
here anywaylearning about old battles when I should be
fighting them. Taking pop quizzes on group dynamics and
leadership qualities
Were you going to tell us? Rupert said, soft.
Jack clutched the worn straps of his brown
knapsack. I left a note.
Oh yeah, said Grey. And I bet it explains
everything. I bet it says sorry.
Grey
Why would you do that? Grey said. Jack, I am
sick of your secretseither you trust us or you dont
And youre one to talk about secrets, Grey
Both of you shut up, said Laney. We need to
get Rupert medical help. She stomped up the steps.
And, Jack, if that was your reasoning for leaving, you
wouldve gone a year ago. Whats going on?
Its personal.
But important enough to lie to us about, said
Rupert. Greys healing had brought some darker color

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back to his cheeks, but his face was drawn as he watched

his friend anxiously.
If theres something that important that you need
to do, then you should have asked us to help, said Laney.
You dont have to do this alone.
Jack, were your friends, said Rupert. Dont
you understand what that means?
Jack kept his eyes on the step in front of him. It
means youll end up dying for me.
The door at the top of the steps clicked shut at a
beckoning spark of gold.
They froze.
A low, cheery voice spoke out from the basement
floor. Well, thanks very much, boys and girls. I needed
that port closed, but I wasnt sure how.
Jack turned around. At the bottom of the stairs
stood Talker, the leader of the men who had broken into
Sallys so long ago. Talkers face split into a wide grin
too wide. The man was glowing from the inside, the gold
light streaming out from his eyes, between his teeth.
Why, look, Talker purred. Its the little baby
League again. Youre missing your idiot combat spec,
longshanks.
Hes out chasing down demons, said Laney
flatly.
Oh, those things? Cute, arent they? They were
so thankful when I let them out. This is nicer, though.
Talker waved at the empty air. I didnt really feel like
babysitting.
Talker paced a few steps across the floor then
tilted his head up at them. Now Ill have to kill you,
though. Which is a pity. You seem like such nice lads and
lasses Nah, Im kidding. This will be fun.
Talker lifted his hand and waved it four times.
Jack was jerked off his feet and slammed into the far wall.
Laney thudded into place next to him. Rupert and Grey

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were third and fourth impacts on the adjacent wall. Wide

gold bands fixed each of them to bare wall with bruising
force.
Because I havent been thrown into enough walls
today, Rupert groaned.
Rupert?
Oh, Im fine, dont worry He trailed off.
Now, how would you all like to go out? Talker
asked, rubbing his hands together and throwing careless
sparks. We have all the time in the worldI figure it
will be quite awhile before the chaos up there gets
sorted.
Old age, said Jack. In the middle of telling a
really good joke. You? He smiled pleasantly. How
about in a puddle of your own puke and piss? I can
arrange it if youd like
A sizzling bolt burned into the wall next to Jacks
head.
I missed, said Talker. How odd.
Do you know how many people died today
because of you? Jack demanded. Laney was flicking her
fingers beneath her grasping bonds, tugging and twisting
like she had with the edges of the rift. Jack didnt want
Talker paying too much attention to her fidgetings. One
of them was your friend, up in the dining room, you
traitorous pig
A glob of magic caught Talker in the back of the
headit didnt do anything but sizzle and drip slowly off
the mans skull. Talker swerved to glare at the still-bound
Laney.
Over here, doofus, called Grey, brushing stray
sparks off his jacket. His bonds disintegrated around him,
vanishing. Hed caught on to Laneys antics, too.
How did you do that? Talker demanded,
overlooking the frantic wiggle of Laneys fingers as she

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disassembled her own bonds strand by strand on the other

wall. Youre a sage, you
Wanna see what else I can do? said Grey, with
his most dangerous grin, wide and sharp, the one hed
learned from Jack. Youre not going to like it very
much.
Behind them, Laneys bonds scattered like scraps
of snipped yarn. She drew her pistol from her thigh
holster and shot Talker twice in the base of the skull.
Talker fell over.
And then he got up, flickering with sickly gold
light.
Talker turned around, smiling, and walked toward
her. Thats not going to work, pet.
Laney raised her second gun, feet braced. She
firedtwo bullets centered into his neck, breaking his
spineanother through one eyehis heartwith a sharp
crack of gunfire and a wet thud, Laney punctured one of
his lungs.
He kept coming.
Talker tried to magic her gun away but his power
slid off old, sparking wards. Laney didnt have time to
shoot again before he surged forward and smacked it
physically out of her hand. Her gun skid across the floor.
When she tried to lunge after it, he caught her by the back
of her jacket and threw her back in front of him.
Laney punched him in the jaw, the blood from his
left eye socket smearing under her knuckles. Jack strained
against his bonds.
Talker backhanded her into the wall on the other
side of the room. She crumpled and lay there, still.
Lane! The shout could have been any of them,
but Jack was busy bruising himself against bonds he
couldnt see. Grey was standing, frozen, as the villain
turned back around.

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Now, where were we? Talker smiled, a sickly

light flashing behind his teeth.
Grey swallowed hard. Oh, is your mind going? I
hear possession spirits are hard on people who had so
little brain to begin with.
Ah, yes, Talker said. I believe you were
threatening me.
That thing is eating you from the inside out!
Laney shifted against the far wall, but didnt get
up. Jack let out a breath he hasnt known he was holding.
She had been so very still.
Well, I am delicious, said Talker. I am
becoming a higher being, child. I will be more powerful
than the Black Sorcerer, greater than the Lady in the
Lake
Trust me, its not all its cracked up to be. Grey
took a deep breath, shaking. With all that power in you, I
can send you back where it came from, said Grey. All I
have to do is open a door.
Talker smirked. And how do you plan to do that,
little sage? The summoning spell to open that rift, it took
six months to find everything we neededhad to kill a
priest to get the incantation in the first place
There was a sudden shaking rumble, like Jack had
once felt in an earthquake, when he was twelve. Jack had
been in a meadow, watching ground and grass undulate in
ways that seemed impossible to his waking eye, and
listening to the trees scream their shrieking protest. But in
this room the ground wasnt actually moving. The air
hadnt stirred except for the heat waves rolling off Talker.
Grey lowered his hands. If I yank a little harder,
it wont just be a shake. If I try, I can shatter enough of
the wall between it and us to let the Elsewhere pull you
right back in.
Talker looked between him and the crumpled
Laney. Two mages? Really, thats cheating. He smiled

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wide, wider than the skin of his face should have allowed.
He was melting, malleable. One lid drooped like melting
wax as the eyeball beneath it spun. Itll eat you, too, little
mage.
Itll eat you first.
Grey, said Jack, panic rising.
Laney had pushed herself half to her feet. Blood
ran down her face from a cut over her left eye. Grey said,
Ready? and she nodded, eyes bright, limbs shaking.
Three things happened at once: Talker hurled a
fireball at GreyGrey lifted his handsand with a rush
of light the walls of the world caved in.
Against the wall, Jack was still bound. The fraying
fissuremuch larger than the previous one had been, less
a tear in the fabric and more the puckered aftermath of an
explosionscreamed. Talker shrieked counterpoint as he
was flung backwards. Seething gold swallowed him
whole.
Jack strained against his bonds so hard his vision
strained white. The Elsewhere pulled in the next most
powerful thing in the room. Grey disappeared into the
fissure quietly, eyes wide. His long fingers scrambled
over the ragged edge of it and then he was gone.
Over the town, the thin gold mist sputtered and
went out.
Wind whipped through the room as traces of the
magical battle tore off from where theyd been splashed
on the floor. Charms and rune spells squirmed underneath
the door from the next room over and went screaming into
the fire. Jack and Ruperts bonds groaned, then crumpled
into the wind like scraps of paper.
Jack stumbled forward two steps. Laney was
moving towards standing, gunpowder on her hands and
blood in her hair. Rupert was drawing his sword. The
fissure had eaten everything within easy reach and now
new demons began to roll out.

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Lane? shouted Jack over the roar of the gaping

maw of the new rift.
Laney was standing, shaking, staring at the ragged
port of gold fire that stretched from wall to wall. She
looked small in front of it, as she half-buried herself in the
Elsewhere that had taken Grey, sinking in up to her
shoulders.
I cant find him, she said, calling out through
the strands of gold weaving themselves up around her
face, through her hair. I cant feel himits always
hes a black hole and I cant feel him anywhere Laney
turned around, her whole face stricken (Rupert was
parrying disorientated newborn demons, scowling in pain
and blessing every speck of healing Grey had poured into
him). Jack, hes gone. I cant find him in this
We have to close it, said Rupert, as a demon
sprayed orange sparks from a blow. His hands were
steady on his sword while his side bled; his voice was
flat; his cheeks were wet. Now, guys, we have to.
Jack kicked his twisted, blackened sword out of
the way. Close it, Laney, he said, and leapt into the fire.

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Chapter Twenty-Nine. Into the Fire.

Once, Laney had said, It takes you apart.
The world was fire, molten metal and a rain of
marigold petals.
There was a voice he almost felt he knew. Find
him, it said. We are all in pieces here.
Find you, first.
And what was him? What was Jack Farris?
Beanstalk, the seventh son of the seventh son, sap
ingrained into his palms from climbing too many trees too
high?
He was Jack the Giantkiller, and all the fireside
stories that went with that, the way Elaines mother said,
A redheaded hero named Jack? Ive heard a tale like
that
He was Jack the guide, Jack who left and left and
left; he was Jack Squirrel, barefoot barbarian, who kept
too many secrets.
Who am I?
A striving for the horizon, a fierce joy and a
terrible sorrow, a loyalty that would rip apart mountains.
He was a smile made of brilliant sunlight, and another
that promised death.

336

He was the luckiest man in the world. (He was

every curse that came with that blessing). And he would
use up every last ounce of that luck to find his friend, and
he would call it a fair trade, call it a bargain, and call it a
penance.
Who am I?
He was light on green leaves, and light on the
sword, held together by a web of promises that strung him
across the worldI will come back, I will come back, I
will.
I will find you.
Jack stood amidst fire and silence, in a world
where he did not belong.
Find him. We are all in pieces here.
Pipsqueak, he whispered, and all the things that
went with thatan ink-smudged nose, an expectation of
jagged skies. Grey!
In a world of no shapes and no edges, there was a
small hand in his. Jack reached for the wall between the
worlds, and shattered it, and they stepped through.

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Chapter Thirty. A Light Spilled.

Jack! said Laney, Grey! and she caught both
of them before they collapsed entirely. Jack sank to his
knees, breathing hard. Got him? she said, asking about
Grey, who was limp-kneed and shaking at Jacks side.
Laney reached around them and started to wheedle Jacks
Elsewhere port closed.
Decent job, Jackie, she gritted, standing
between Grey and reaching fingers of Elsewhere. But try
to make the slit a little neater next time, will you? She
was drenched in sweat from closing the larger rift.
Grey, you alright? called Rupert. He was sagged
against the far wall, breathing rapidly. Two charred
craters on the floor told the story of the two demons that
had managed to roll out before Laney closed Greys rift.
Laneys wrists were almost bare.
Peachy, rasped Grey. Jack felt like all his limbs
were made of gelatin. Grey was clinging to his shoulder,
which was about the right height for him when Jack was
kneeling. Jack grabbed the kids jacket and started
checking him for injuries.
Im fine. Im fine, Jack. Greys whole voice
cracked and gritted over the words. The trip through the
Elsewhere had drained him dry. His lips were cracked.
His fingertips, for some reason, had been scraped raw. His
legs shook and Grey dropped where he stood.

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Dont you ever do that again, said Jack.

Hey, I totally saved the day, said Grey, eyes
drooping shut, and fluttering open. Shut up, Squirrel.
Laney tugged the last inch of the port closed and
stepped back, breathing deep. Jack felt rubbed raw,
scrubbed clean. The shoulder the first demon had burned
throbbed quietly. Grey was a weight on the other
shoulder, limp and shivering, but there.
Jack got his feet under him and picked up the
younger boy, who muttered complaints. Laney, can you
help Rupert?
To Sallys? said Laney. Rupert dropped an arm
around her shoulders; she had to crouch a little for him.
Unless someone else wants to jump out of the
shadows and try to kill us. No? Jack asked the empty
basement. Okay, said Jack. Lets go then.
As they headed out, Jack and Laney walking side
by side carrying their friends, Grey reached out a hand
and wrapped it tight around Ruperts forearm. Gold
flashed, energy pouring sluggishly into the injured
Rupert. Jack caught his breath at the lighthe had been
afraid that he had brought Grey back damaged, not whole.
Jack moved a bit closer to Laney, so Grey didnt
have to reach so far. The boy felt solid in his arms, but
Jack felt light and unbalanceddamaged beyond the
aches and scrapes.
He shoved down the unreasonable sensation and
they walked on.
The streets up above were ravaged. The deep
black crater Laney and Grey had made of the first demon
stood out, calling to the eye, but charred gouges ran the
whole street. They could hear shouting and see the
flickers of fire and magic in the distance.
Greys golden glow had faded from the sky, but
dawn was streaking everything with light. Jack was just
thinking thankful thoughts about the empty street when he

339

heard the distinctive scream of air set alight. A demon

swerved around the corner.
Laney, still tucked under Ruperts weight, sent
two bullets into the center of its mass. It was one of the
normal demons, not the greater one they had facedtwo
sprays of dark orange sparks exploded outward and the
thing shrieked pain.
Rupert, can I borrow your sword? Jack said,
wondering if his legs were going to hold out through this.
He moved to put down the half-conscious Grey.
The demon charged. A wide gold net of magic
side-swiped it.
The demon went hurtling to the ground, the edges
of the net digging into the dirt. It thrashed inside, blazing
white with rage.
Fancy meeting you guys here, said Jack,
grinning ear-to-ear. He readjusted Grey against his chest
as Red and Leaf stepped out onto the street. A mage Jack
didnt know went to check the bonds on the struggling
demon.
Can you blast this one like you did the other,
Miss Jones? the mage asked, an odd expression in wide
eyes.
Its just Jones, said Laney, hesitant. And, ah.
Im a little wiped. Had to do two more in the basement,
too. Her wrists and ankles were nearly cleared of spells.
What have you guys been doing with them?
If you hack at them long enough, theyll die,
said Red. But its hell on swords. He raised his, which
was blackened, the edge of it jagged. This ones seen a
few.
Jack thought of the twisted, crumbling sword hed
left in the inn, utterly destroyed.
You all look like youve seen a few monsters,
too, said Leaf. His Academy jacket was gouged and
charred. There was ash on his cheek, a burn across his

340

cheekbone. He held his sword in his hand like an

afterthought.
A few, said Jack. But the rift is closedwhat
these were coming out of. There wont be any more
demons but the ones already loose.
Red nodded, relieved, while Leaf looked around at
them all as though reassessing exactly how much hell
they had been through. They started in on the demon;
Jack, Grey, Laney, and Rupert moved on.
Amid the eerie silence of the streets, Sally-Annes
was a sudden beacon. Firelight and lamplight blazed out
the windows and doors. Shouts rang out, but they were
swift professional commands, not panic. Jack carried
Grey to the doorstep. Laney knocked.
Rupert! Sally-Anne opened the door, flanked by
a combat spec with a drawn sworda small handgun was
tucked in Sallys apron. Come in, come inhow hurt are
you?
Im holding in there, said Rupert. Our mage
healed me up a bit.
Sally squeezed a startled Laneys arm in thanks.
Grey stirred a little in Jacks arms. Sally led them all to a
healer who sent them to different triage stations once
theyd described their injuriesof Grey they said,
Exhaustion. And he was hit was with a couple of nasty
spells.
Rupert they left in the care of a nurse, who
examined the splint Jack had done on his arm and tutted
about the amount of magic Laney had spent on him. He
was rushed to one of the triage healers, who began the
painstaking removal of the wooden splinter, which had
indeed missed any vital organs. Grey got tucked into a cot
in a quieter screened off section of the shop.
Nurse was in charge of a far segment of the floor;
she gave Jack a smile and a terse nod across the crowded

341

space. Rhones was counting supplies, making lists, and

shouting orders at some harried-looking combat specs.
Jack glimpsed the feet of two covered bodies in
the far corner, behind a hanging sheet.
A streak of long brown braids sped toward Jack
and Laney. Elaine, the little seer from the tenement near
the cursed house, skidded to a stop in front of him.
Where is it? Where is it? The kid had grown two
inches and a degree of social confidence. Elaine ran up
and tugged at Jacks jacket, while her mother followed
quickly behind. What did you do?
Jack knelt down so he could look eye-to-eye with
the young seer. What do you mean?
Elaine leaned closer and told him, You had gold.
You had gold all around you, like a cape. Where did your
shiny wizards robe go? I liked it, she whispered.
I dunno, kid, he said. If I find it again, Ill let
you know. He looked up at her mother. You all make it
out of there okay?
My boy was with my husband. Hes the night
guard at the factory, she said softly, one hand dropping
down onto Elaines head. They should have heard the
alerts, and gotten to one of the islands.
Jack nodded, standing. Best wishes to you all.
You look battered, boy, said Elaines mother.
Make sure they take a look at you, too. She paused.
That friend of yours, the younger boyis he?
Hes sleeping in the back, said Jack.
Duh, Elaine added. When they looked at her she
said, I can see the glow from here. She wrinkled her
nose and told Jack, Yours was prettier. His is a show-off.
Mom says dont show off.
And what are you doing? her mother said.
Elaine hid in her mothers skirt, blushing. Im glad hes
alright, Elaines mother told Jack, relieved. Thats

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good. I know its a little irrational buthes someone else

who made it out of the mountains.
Jack looked down at Elaine. Nah, he said. I get
it.
A familiar voice, if lower and more furious than
its norm, caught Jacks ear. Ive got to go, he said.
Im not injured, Laney was telling Rhones and
an exasperated medic, fists balled. I can help.
Youre exhausted, said the medic sternly.
Youve been through a lot of trauma today.
Youre going to get yourself and other people
killed if you go out there at less than your best, Rhones
growled. He was less diplomatic.
Lane, said Jack. Youve done enough. She
glared at him, too. Think of yourself as a guard for this
place, said Jack. If something attacks, theyre going to
need another gun. Besides, your whole teams injured.
Were not sending you out alone.
She wrinkled her nose and scrubbed at her
forehead. Alright, fine.
Jack let someone put a poultice on the burn on his
shoulder, but then found an empty corner to sit down in
and put his back to the wall. He didnt want to waste a cot
when he was certain he could sleep sitting up.
Laney sat down beside him and he told her what
Elaine had said.
I think she meant your luck, said Laney, settling
back against the wall. The little kid? Shes a seer, isnt
she?
What?
I bet thats whats gone, the gold around you. I
bet the Elsewhere burned it off of you, when you jumped
in after Grey.
Oh, said Jack. Well. He stared down at his
hands. He remembered words wrapped up in that place
with no edges, no shapesthey had been shouts, or

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whispers, or thoughts, or maybe they hadnt been words

at all. I will find you. I think, he said. I think I made a
trade. My luck, if it gave Grey back.
Oh, said Laney.
Jack closed his eyes and leaned back against the
wall.
Laney started disassembling and cleaning one gun.
The other sat, ready, beside it, in case anything came to
call.
The man in the basement, said Laney slowly.
Talker? said Jack.
Do you have to name everyone? said Laney.
Yes, said Jack. It helps.
What Im doing, said Laney, with... Her hands
trailed over her remaining bracelets. Its not that much
different from Talker. Trying to make for myself a power
I wasnt born with.
Dont be stupid, said Jack.
Did you see the way Andy looked at me? The
mage with Red and Leaf. I burned that first demon, and
the two in the cellar, and I closed the riftheh, twice
but I used somebody elses power. I feel like a thief and a
liar, Jack.
This, said Jack, touching her wrists. This is
more yours than any of their magics are. They were born
gifted. You earned this.
Im just as greedy as Talker was, said Laney,
shaking her head. I wanted power, and I took it.
You are nothing like Talker was. Youre building
something, said Jack. He was lighting the world on fire
and laughing. Jack smiled at her and squeezed her hand.
Youre no villain, Laney Jones. Stop fooling yourself.
She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder.
That was a very long day, she said.
Yeah, said Jack. He leaned his own head back
and closed his eyes. But I think we won.

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345

Chapter Thirty-One. Obituaries III.

Theodore Green, who Jack Farris named Twitchy.
He died at the hands of the first demon out of the gate.
Aoshi Sado, the man selling chestnuts in the street
outside. An ogre halfling, he played chess competitions in
a tavern on weekends and enjoyed beating the socks off
people who thought they were smarter than him.
Antony Zelwich, a Knight.
Todd Doskoyvitz, a grocer. He cheated customers
and loved his wife.
Jocelyn Hay, who wore purple-spotted socks when
she had a hard day in front of her and wanted to feel
lucky.
Gordon Parris, father of two. Hed been in the
Knights for seven years.
His wife, a kelpy, took the kids and moved back to
the coast to commune with a saltier body of water. It
better reflected her mood, these days.
Sakura Green, unrelated to Theodore (above).
Shed moved to Rivertown from the mountains, to work

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on her singing career. She waited tables at a diner called

Roys.
A young man named Leonard Garcia ate breakfast
in Roys every morning before he went to work at the
factory down the street. He thought the way Sakura wore
her sensible flats was beautiful. He liked the way she
smiled when she poured coffee. It was a private sort of
expression, seemingly meant less for the customer and
more for the stream of dark liquid and the way it fell,
reliably, every morning, every time she tipped the pot just
so.
He was going to ask her to go to a play with him
that night. She would have told him no.
The next day, shed have taken her break early.
She would have poured herself a cup of coffee and sat
across from him. He would have smiled, startled, bright,
shy.
She would have liked the way he smiled just for
her.
Gus H. Weatherby, the first Academy student to
fall. His family had been Bureau heroes for seven
generations.
Hans Smithe, a hag and a florist. He specialized in
orchids.
Spindle Bernard-Jones, second-year Academy
guide. He had been a desert boy of oasis date farms. He
had been months from graduating with honors.
The smallest Spin had ever felt had not been the
fault of all the vast, monumental immensity of the desert,
the way it haunted horizons and made a soul feel
insignificant against its reach. Nothing had ever made
Spin feel so small as arriving at the Academy on his first

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day and seeing the way a blue-blooded hero looked at his

dusty feet.
Spin had been kind to his friends, devoted to
excellence, and had learned, long before his death, the
truths of them and us. He had been twenty, young and
angry and proud. Spin had worn a pair of polished
second-hand shoes and hed sworn they fit comfortably.
Sandra, Rob, and Gene Markley, who took their
coffee black each morning. Rob had a secret hankering
for a few lumps of sugar in his, but he didnt indulge it.
Sandra liked to steal sips out of his mug when shed
forgotten hers in the other room.
Harold Barrow, the son of a painter and a
blacksmith who had loved her. Barrows last thought
before he disappeared into a glare of gold light was of red
paint on his mothers hands, the glow of his fathers
forge.
Barrow had been named Talker by a young man
named Jack Farris. He had been killed by a sage who
called himself Grey.

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349

Chapter Thirty-Two. Rebuilding A Life.

So you going north soon? Sarge asked Jack,
quiet, a few days later.
That first sunrise Jack had slept up against the
wall of Sallys shop for a few hours, Laney sitting vigil
beside him. After waking and bullying Laney into
sleeping a little herself, Jack had helped Red (who had
retired from the field with a broken ankle) organize the
clearing of each sector of the town so that Sez and Barts
people could start moving the civilians with intact homes
back in.
A whole sector down the river had caught and
burned before anyone could get to it and suffocate the
flames. Sez organized families with extra space to take
the homeless in, and set up some empty warehouses down
by the docks to take the rest. Jack wasnt sure where the
food and bedding were coming from, but there were a lot
of maneuvers he wouldnt put past Sez. She wrangled the
Knights into organizing rebuilding along the riverfront;
their teams tore down burned buildings and kept what
timbers might still be useful.
A group of the fire demons had besieged one of
the evacuation site islands in what was coming to be
called the Battle of Driftwood Island. Armed civilians,
Academy combat specs, heroes, and Knights fought them
off. Gloria, Heather, and a second-year guide named

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Spindle had been escorting civilians to safe ground and

had been caught up in the fight as well. Heather had
broken her arm. Spin hadnt made it out.
The demons had stirred up the local Things
somehow, making them even more vicious than before.
Sez sent word to Rupert, who was still doped up on
healing potions. Jack took Leaf, Gloria, and Clark out into
the town and took care of two of the worse nests.
Sez gave him a list of others and Jack promised to
handle them, already mentally sorting through the lists of
injured and non-injured among the stable loft gang and
whatever combat specs he thought might listen to him.
After that night, Jack had a feeling a lot more of them
would be willing.
In the pale light of the empty Academy courtyard,
Sarge was looking at Jack, patient but expectant. Jack
pushed his hands through his hair. I think somethings
happening up north, he said. But I know things are
broken here, and that I can help.
Its a good choice, lad.
This is killing me, Sarge.
Trust them, said Sarge. Theyre strong. Theyll
keep each other safe up there. And you know shes been
through worse than anything the seeress can throw at
her.
Ive got some pretty good faith in the seeresss
creativity, actually, said Jack.
Cmon, lad. Lets go grab some grub. He
grabbed Jacks shoulder. Have faith. They had faith in
you, letting you run off and put yourself in the Bureaus
dirty hands.
Jack laughed and they headed down to the dining
commons, where the exquisite ceiling still glared and the
students sat in tired clusters. Jack ate with the Rangers,
feeling an odd sense of dj vu to be seeing these familiar

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faces against this scene. Rupert limped on crutches and

quietly ate a bowl of porridge at Jacks side.
When they left the dining commons, they ran into
Mr. Thorne and the Headsmaster, who were walking the
grounds. Most of the Rangers had gone ahead; it was
simply Jack, Sarge, and Rupert.
Mr, Farris, said Thorne, pleased. Ive been
hearing second-hand reports for days. Id love to speak to
you and Ms. Jones privately if you have time.
Sarge stepped forward, getting between Jack and
Thorne. I think the lads a little busy, said Sarge.
Ah, the Rangers famed hero, said Mr. Thorne,
smiling. Here to recruit? Im afraid Ive already beat you
to it, so stop fretting. I can talk to Mr. Farris if Id like.
If the boy doesnt want to talk, began Sarge.
I didnt say I didnt want to talk, said Jack.
Sarge, relax.
Yes, relax, sir. Mr. Thorne smiled. Im not
stealing anything youll miss. Mr. Farris is far more suited
to my line of work than yours.
Jack would make a fine League man, said Sarge.
Mr. Thorne looked from Jack to Sarge. Why are
you so concerned over a talented nobody from the
backwoods? Farris is good, but youve known him fora
week?
Sarge bared his teeth in a smile. I know talent
when I see it.
Mr. Thornes eyes flicked back to Jack. Jack felt
himself picked apart and surveyed piece by piecesword
calluses, the way he stood comfortably in the shadow of a
Ranger, red hair like a brazen flag, all the skills and
attitudes that had drawn Thornes interest in the first
place. A redheaded hero named Jack, said Elaines
mother in the back of his head.
Hes not, breathed Thorne, but Jack could see
him starting to believe.

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Hes not what? demanded Heads, who had stood

at the side of the conversation looking more and more
confused. Rupert also stood at the edge, looking like
things were beginning to make more and more sense.
There is a vigilante in the northern mountains,
said Thorne, who they call the Giantkiller. Hes one of
the Bureaus most wanted criminals. He hasnt been seen
in two years. Theres quite a price on his head.
Jacks heart sank down into the chill Rivertown
dirt.
And you think this vigilante is my student,
Heads said dubiously.
I think this vigilante was my very exciting
recruit, said Mr. Thorne irritably.
I dont know what youre talking about, sir, said
Jack. Ive heard about the Giantkiller in classes, but
A very nice attempt, said Mr. Thorne. Your
ability to think on your feet has always been admirable.
But thats not going to work, Mr. Farris. He kneaded his
forehead tiredly, but kept his eyes on Jack. You meet
enough of the criteria for the Giantkiller that I am not
allowed to ignore a reasonable suspicion of you. He
shook his head. You have no alibithe time frame
before you came to the Academy matches perfectly. You
arrived here, what, a couple months after the Piper died
and the Giantkiller disappeared?
Jack shoved his hands in his pockets with a glance
at a silent Rupert. Maybe the Giantkiller just died, too.
Ever think of that?
(His leather knapsack was packed. The Rangers
wouldnt be quick to grab him, and the Academy staff
would take a moment to figure out why they were being
asked to arrest a student. Jack could get far past the city
before anyone came close to putting up a proper offense).
You have to understand, Mr. Farris, said
Thorne. I quite respected what I heard of the

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Giantkillers efforts, in the mountains. You and your little

team were quite the talk around the water cooler. But the
law condemns vigilantism. I have to take you in.
Sarge moved to take a step forward, but Jack
snapped, Sarge, and he stopped. If Jack was going
down, he wasnt taking the Rangers with him.
Its not the choice I want to make, Mr. Farris,
said Thorne. But, unlike some, he said, with a glance at
the Rangers hero, the law He paused. Oh. But there
is one loop hole.
Jack lifted his head. Mr. Thorne smiled.
Did you know, Mr. Farris, academically
speaking, many of the Giantkillers greater crimes would
be consideredwaivedfor a Bureau employee under
my branchs command?
You are not blackmailing him into joining your
pack of killers, growled Sarge.
Im giving him an offer, not an ultimatum, said
Mr. Thorne. I think this would be the most amenable for
everyone. I am just trying my best not to have to put a
true hero behind bars, within the requirements of Bureau
law.
Very admirable of you, said Heads. But, Mr.
Thorne?
Jack swiveled to look at the previously silent
Headsmaster. Ruperts uncle had been watching the
conversation with narrowing eyes.
Mr. Hammersfeld? said Mr. Thorne.
Heads steepled his fingers in front of him. This
has all been a delightful academic exercise on legality,
responsibility, and creative maneuvering, but Mr. Farris
cant be your Giantkiller.
What?
You are confused, Mr. Thorne, said Heads,
looking down at him from his raised chin. He dripped
dignity. Mr. Farris cant be the Giantkiller.

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I know hes young, said Mr. Thorne. But there

have been reports that the Giantkiller was quite young
and quite small, actually. He frowned.
Yes? And look at the size of him. Heads said,
Your Giantkiller was active two years ago, yes? Then
Mr. Farris cannot be your Giantkiller. Two years ago Jack
was a stablehand, at this Academy.
Jack, Sarge, and Thorne all stared at the
Headsmaster, who stared calmly back. My nephew will
provide all the paperwork you need to confirm it, Mr.
Thorne. Rupert? Could you go get Mr. Farriss file for the
gentleman?
Rupert gave his best Good Nephew nod and
rushed off. Our organization has been a little hectic of
late, Heads added apologetically. It may take him a few
moments to find the appropriate documents. (Rupert,
meanwhile, leapt through his office window and began
drawing up the appropriate hiring, employment and
expense paperwork for a stablehand employed at the
Academy two years previously).
But I cannot ignore this crime, said Mr. Thorne.
My oaths upon taking the office of inspector require
me
But there hasnt been a crime, said Sarge.
Kids got an alibi. And as a senior League member who
has been in extensive recorded contact with the
Giantkiller, I can be witness that this Academy student is
not him.
And if Mr. Farris wishes to pursue employment
with your branch, Im sure he can contact you in a more
official capacity than this, said Heads, while Jack shut
his gaping mouth and Thorne scowled. If thats all,
gentlemen?
I will want to see those papers, said Mr. Thorne.
Of course. Rupert will get them to you. Im very
pleased to have saved you the trouble of travelling all the

355

way to St. Johns Port only to realize you were mistaken

about young Mr. Farris.
Yes, said Mr. Thorne. I appreciate your efforts,
Headsmaster.
Heads nodded at the two Bureau men. Good day.
Ah, Mr. Farris, a word?
Yes, sir, said Jack and stumbled after him. Mr.
Thorne watched him go. Sir? Jack said, once they were
far out of earshot. Why did you do that?
Do what? said Heads, adjusting his waistcoat.
Make sure you graduate this year, Mr. Farris. Ill be
happy to see you go. You cause chaos and violence
everywhere you go.
Sir Jack looked away, and down.
And, said Heads, a lot of lives got saved in this
town because of you, and my nephew, and those other
young hellions you encouraged.
Jack raised his head. Heads was looking straight at
him, considering. Do you know if Mr. Uyeda is
considering continuing his extracurriculars in his second
year?
Red?
Yeah,
heer,
I
mean,
what
extracurriculars?
Heads snorted. I think we can dispense with that.
And young Mr. Fenn, too, I imagine.
Pretty sure you couldnt leave Leaf out of it if
you tried.
Hm. Have a good day, Mr. Farris, said the
Headsmaster, and walked away.
Jack stared after him for a long moment then
shook his head. He breathed deep, letting panic trickle out
of his system. He walked back out to the courtyard, wary.
Sarge and Thorne with both gone.
Jack ran his fingers through his hair, scrubbing at
his scalp. Thornes offer, Sarges have faith, and the
thick smell of smoke in the air all clashed inside his skull.

356

The mountains rose sharp and grey on the horizon.

When things are more settled, Jack promised
himself, and kept his brown knapsack stocked.
He pretended not to notice that the first thing Grey
did whenever he entered their room was to check that the
pack was still there.
The town continued to rebuild. Heads had the
professors only hold half their classes, sending students
out to help with the relief efforts for the rest of the days.
Nurse shipped patients out of Sallys fish shop and into
the beds of the Academy infirmary. Jack spent most of his
time in the herb room in the back of Nurses bustling
infirmary, brewing salves and potions that disappeared as
fast as he could make them.
Clement had gotten his arm broken Definitely
a third year for me, Clem told Jack glumly while Jack
took a break from pungent brews to inhale some bread
and cheese on a stool in the main infirmary. Jack asked
him if he was planning on still teaching fighting lessons
under Red.
They held the funerals for the two fallen Academy
students in the main courtyard.
The next day, Laney went out with tied-up lift
spells and helped with the rebuilding down by the river.
She locked herself in her dorm room for hours one night
with Grey, and sweatingly tied some of his magic up in
three painstaking Tyr spiral wells. She spent an afternoon
in the infirmary, pouring strength into the sickest.
The giant, charred crater she and Grey had made
of the first demon was filled in, but not forgotten. Stories
circulated the campus about how Laney had closed the
impossible rift, how she burned a demon out of existence
first, that she was the Lady in the Lake reborn. Laney
stayed busy out in the town and hid behind Jacks height
in the dining commons.

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People who used to tease me for dropping spells

are now begging for me to touch their hand, shed
confide while gossip rang through the room.
At a table across from them, two students
whispered, I hear the Lady in the Lake died in the desert,
with her knights
Maybe thats why Jones was reincarnated down
there!
That much power doesnt happen by
coincidence
Someone else added in, But its not like she was
that great beforemaybe she ate a Elsewhere demon too
and any minutes now shes going to explode.
Laney slid down lower in her seat, sandwiched
between Rupert and Jack. This is getting really tiring,
she said.
Sometimes, in these days after the battle, when
Jack accidentally knocked a piece of toast off his
breakfast plate it would land butter-side down. Jack
would laugh and gather it up and make himself a new one.
Grey would stare over the top of his book at the
greasy smear on the floor and wonder: if Jack died one
day from bad fall or an unlucky cold, would that mean
Grey had killed him?
Rupert, Red, Sez, and Bart holed up together
often, organizing resources and town sectors. Rupert was
mobile, if on crutches, pretty early on and would hop
around the downriver streets, making lists.
Rupert didnt mention what hed overheard
between Sarge and Thorne except to say once, when they
were alone, So, the Giantkiller?
Jack looked at his bare brown toes. Everyones a
larger story than they seem, arent they? Rupert
hummed, and nodded, and didnt bring it up again.
Thorne didnt speak to Jack, or Laney, again. He
would watch them, thoughtful, sometimes. One night, the

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inspector sat down and penned a quiet letter. It travelled

north through quiet, careful hands.
Red dropped into the seat next to Jack one
dinnertime, looking shell-shocked. Leaf slid into the
opposite seat, grinning. I just talked to the Headsmaster,
said Red.
Jack smiled at his plate.
Hes asked me to organize an amateur fighting
curriculum, with the aim of building a students group who
willwith a great deal of faculty supportgo out and do
what you and Laney and Rupert have beenyou guys
have been fighting monsters? All year?
Jack nodded.
That explains more than it doesnt, said Leaf.
Jack grinned at his classmate across the table.
Well, said Red. Heads is going to have me, and
Rupert, and some townie contact of his organize things
with the professors to set up this program. Its, he shook
his head.
Its a step in the right direction, said Leaf,
firmly. I knew Heads would come around.
Optimist, said Red.
Leaf grinned wider.
Jack, can you help me with the fighting
curriculum? said Red. Youve been fighting in this
cityand you did half the lessons with the stable loft
crew anyway.
Jack started scribbling down thoughts amid
stirring brews. He, Leaf, Red, and Rupert would lean over
the dining commons table, drawing out plans in their
mashed potatoes.
Red met Sez. Aw, hes shy, she told Jack.
Why does everyone keep saying that?
Everything went on as usualor this odd situation
they were coming to call usualuntil the day Laney
didnt come down to breakfast.

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The day started off odd before that. When Jack

woke up, he found a letter had been pushed under their
door. Jack picked it up, read the name on the front, and
tossed it into a bleary Greys lap.
Grey rubbed sleep out of his eyes and tore it open.
Unfolding the letter, he froze. He read it once, eyes
flicking over text.
Jack sat down in his desk chair. Grey?
Its from my sister. Grey paused, peered at the
letter, flipped it over, and peered at it some more. Okay,
well, its from my sisters friend, and hes pretending its
from my sister. I dont know if he expected me to notice
the forgery or not.
Whats it say?
I have to go home, said Grey. Somethings
wrong.
Good thing Im already packed, said Jack.
Greys head snapped up from where he had been
reading the letter again. No. No, Jack, this is my
problem, not yours, okay?
Kid, Im not letting you run off into the
mountains on your own.
Grey flicked gold sparks off the tips of his fingers;
it might have been to prove a point, or just because he had
less control when he was stressed. Im not defenseless,
remember?
Youre fifteen.
Grey shrugged, folding up the letter and slipping it
in his pocket. Older than you were when you left the
Forest. He pulled on his shoes and then dropped off the
edge of the bed. Cmon, lets go eat.
Grey, wait.
Grey shook his head, moving toward the door.
Kid, you know how you were yelling at me for
leaving? And not telling you? Remember that talk we had,

360

in a burned-out basement, about friends being people who

help you out when you need it?
That wasnt how you put it, snapped Grey.
Jack, youre not coming with me.
Why not?
Because its my business, and I dont want you
anywhere near it! Grey slammed opened the door,
disappearing down the hall.
Jack fell into a seat next to Rupert when he made
it downstairs. Grey sat sullenly nearby, carefully
shoveling in sugar-studded porridge over an open book.
Wheres Laney? asked Jack, looking around the room.
Maybe shes tired of people gawking and she got
Gloria to sneak her something, said Rupert. He folded up
his napkin and grabbed an apple and a hunk of bread. Ill
go check on her.
Jack glanced at Greys stubborn face. Ill come
too, he said, grabbing bread from his plate as he pushed
himself to his feet. Leaf, threatened with staying alone at
the breakfast table with only a very grumpy Grey for
company, leapt up also.
Gloria and Laneys door was shut and locked
when they came to it. Rupert knocked. There wasnt an
answer.
Did she sleep in? said Leaf.
Maybe, said Jack, trying the doorknob. He tilted
his head, listening hard. His stomach dropped. If Im
wrong, she can yell at me later, said Jack. He took a step
back and kicked in the door.
Jack! said Rupert. What are you
Mmph! Gloria knelt on the lower bunk, gagged,
her hands and ankles tied behind her.
Laney was nowhere to be seen.
Two men came in the window, before sunrise,
Gloria sobbed once theyd gotten the gag out of her
mouth. Jack cut her bonds and started rubbing circulation

361

back into her extremities, bringing further tears to her

eyes. They tied me up, and they took Laney. I tried to
fight but
Ill take her down to Nurse, said Leaf, wrapping
his arms around the young womans shaking shoulders.
Jack said, numb, Yeah, thanks. Good, Leaf.
Rupert sat down on the empty bed, hard, as Leaf
left. The door clicked shut behind him. Whywhy
would?
According to local gossip, said Jack faintly.
Laneys the most powerful mage to walk this earth in a
hundred years. To get their hands on that, there are people
who would risk a lot worse than just the Bureaus
displeasure.
What do we do? said Rupert.
Im going to go grab some breakfast, some travel
rations, and my pack. And then Im walking in a northerly
direction.
Rupert raised his head, staring. You think
mountain slavers took her.
And I have friends whose job it is to know what
the slavers are up to, Jack said. If anyone can find her,
they can.
Rupert buried his face in his hands, mumbling. I
told Sez Id find someone to handle the Things under
Troll Bridge todayIll ask Red, okayAnd Uncle can
handle my paperwork
Rupert? You dont have to
Dont, Farris. Rupert dropped his hands. You
arent the only one allowed to drop everything for his
friends.
The room flashed gold. Wha? began Jack.
Rupert started to smile.
The room flashed gold again.

362

Knocking, said Rupert, and laughed aloud. He

jumped to his feet as a shimmering gold line started
forming in the center of the room.
Laney peeled open the slit and stepped out of the
Elsewhere. Hello, boys.
She extricated herself fully and started stitching up
the glowing cut behind her. She looked suddenly around
the room. Is Gloria alright?
Laney! said Jack. Yeah, shes down at Nurses.
Are you?
How was your morning? Laney asked with
brittle chill. Mine was invigorating.
The door thudded open and Grey tumbled in,
breathless from a sprint up the stairs. I felt it openI felt
it closeLaney, whats going on?
Oh, you know, nothing much. I just got
kidnapped by some slavers who thought an Elsewhere
crack or two would keep me passive, then broke open a
rift to get back here in time for breakfast.
What, said Grey.
Rupert put a hand to his forehead. Alright. Lets
go tell Uncle whats going on.
No, said Laney. I havent got time for him.
What? said Jack.
Im going back, she said.
The three of them stared at her. You have
school, Rupert managed finally.
Your uncle can mail me my badge, said Laney.
I want to figure out where these slavers want to take me.
Id like to meet whoever decided to kidnap a girl out of
her school bed, and explain to them exactly how foolish
that was.
Laney, thats too dangerous, said Jack.
Theyll have prepared for a mage, not for me,
said Laney. And they wont see the three of you
coming.

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Rupert blinked.
What? Laney rolled her eyes. Unlike the rest of
you, Im not modestly sitting around doubting the depth
of this friendship. Go ahead, tell me that packing wasnt
your next move once you saw I was gone. She nodded at
his silence. I thought so.
Im still not on board with this plan of sending
you back, though, said Jack.
They think theyve got me tucked into a cabinet
in the back of a wagon right now. Its loaded with
Elsewhere-crack quartzes and anti-mage wards. They
dont think Im going anywhere. She shrugged, her smile
poison-sweet. Im happy to let them continue with their
illusions a little longer. What if I can help get other mages
out? Laney looked around at them all, an uncertainty
invading her expression despite her words earlier.
Well?
Grey looked from Laneys raised chin to Jacks
nod. Rupert sighed.
Well, said Grey. I guess were going north.

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Jacks story is continued in

ECHOES OF A GIANTKILLER

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