189

******

When was it that I lit a promise stick for the first time?

Early April, in the vault with Kibby, during that stretch of days right after he’d figured out how to deliberately move his authority to return her pat. She’d been so ecstatic for a while there. Finally, a real learning partner, doing his sincere best! The same thing the other little wizards in Gwen-lor’s classroom had.

And Alden had been so freshly aware of, and fascinated with, himself that they’d devoured Gwen-lor’s videos together and practiced until they couldn’t anymore, every single session.

A spark at the tips of his fingers, the first flicker on the end of the stick, the smell of it burning...

April, May, June, July, August, September, October.

And here he was now at the end of November, holding an auriad.

And casting sunlight. This is sunlight.

A rectangular shaft of it shone in front of his auriad, like the release pattern he’d chosen was a window cracked open between here and some brighter place. He knew he should experiment a little before he wore himself out or his focus shifted in some detrimental way, but he kept kneeling there on his cushion, staring through the auriad at the motes of dust swirling in response to his own breath and at the bright shape he was casting on the back of his desk chair.

His pleasure at commanding reality was present, but at the moment, it was taking a surprising backseat to an emotion he hadn’t expected to hit him quite like this, at a time like this.

I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t know anything. And now I’m here.

That was a thought he wanted to take with him to the inward path. He wanted to examine it in that calmer, unhurried way that the path and Yenu-pezth made possible.

He swallowed and moved his arms, still holding his auriad out with his fingers stretched in the release pattern, making the shaft of light travel back and forth, up and down. While casting the spell, he’d focused on calling the same light that would fill the room if his curtain wasn’t shut to block it. And he knew he’d done it. The overhead lighting had a cold bluish cast to it; what he’d brought into the room by magic was just a little warmer.

If Kibby doesn’t learn this spell from Dalat-orni or her new school, I’d like to teach it to her.

A want that wasn’t very reasonable. When would there be an opportunity for him to do a thing like that in this better time when they were both in better places instead of being stuck together in the vault where Ro-den had studied demons? It was a genuine wish anyway.

He held his new spell for as long as he could. It was easier to keep going than it had been to get it going in the first place, and he found room to think about other things without losing control of it. Nothing too complicated, just what he felt and what he wished and idle thoughts drifting past.

Eight months. Who will I be in eight more?

He gave the last several minutes of his sunlight to the leaf from Rapport I before he sent it away with his book, grabbed his duffel bag, and headed to gym class.

******

******

“Eight years,” said Olive, dragging a brush through her light brown hair one last time before pulling an elastic tie from around the handle. Her voice was mostly lost among all the others in the girls’ locker room. Her gray unitard was already on, with the wrist and ankle cuffs waiting on top of her gym bag on the bench in front of her. “Three of high school, four of uni. Then one for job hunting and brand building and whatever else you need to improve about yourself if you didn’t finish it up before graduation. That’s a long time from now.”

“I plan to finish in six,” said Jupiter. She was still in her school uniform, sitting beside Olive’s bag and eating from a family-sized package of shrimp crackers.

“That’s not my point,” Olive said. “My point is...it’s that years from now, everything will be different. The people who are doing well today may not be keeping up as well then. I’m sure the school thinks about all of that when they’re evaluating us. A slower start doesn’t mean someone—”

“I’m here!!! Did you all miss me?” Astrid’s voice sang out as she burst through the door. Her blond hair, usually kept short, hung down past her waist today, and even though she was in energetic motion, it was immediately obvious that she was much taller than usual.

“No!” several voices shouted back.

Astrid’s dramatic gasp of outrage was cut short as her eyes went wide and she tripped over her own feet. In the process of trying to recover from the uncharacteristic clumsiness, she overcorrected, staggered sideways, and stumbled over one of Everly’s sneakers.

“Look out!”

“Catch her!”

“Astrid!”

With a yelp, she was suddenly diving headfirst toward Lucille. The Strength Brute quickly tossed aside a water bottle and extended her arms to help, and then, just as quickly, she drew them back in again so that instead of landing in the soft embrace of a rescuer, Astrid splatted onto the hard floor. She lay there, facedown and surrounded by classmates who had frozen in the act of tying shoes, adjusting sports bras, and putting on deodorant.

Silence reigned for an instant.

“Ow,” Astrid said, voice muffled by the floor. “Sixteen centimeters of extra leg might have been too much to try with some of the other things.”

The girls all burst into laughter, chatter, and attempts to assist.

“You hate me, don’t you, Lucille?” Astrid asked while Rebecca and Heloi?sa crouched beside her, alternating between asking if she was all right and commenting on her “tiny little feet and giraffe legs.”

“You were going to save me, and then you were like, ‘No. It’s only Astrid. Let her die!’”

“I’m so sorry! I—”

“I saw it, too,” Rebecca agreed. “Attempted. Murder.”

Lucille stood there, a blush creeping over her face while they teased her.

“That was funny,” Everly said. She was applying a potion that came in a tiny spray bottle to the blisters on her heels. “Tuyet looked like she was going to help, too, but then she didn’t.”

Tuyet was checking her dart case. “I didn’t want to get in Lucille’s way.”

“We have a dire case of multihero failure,” said Heloi?sa, talking into the top of a rollerball antiperspirant like it was a microphone. “Let’s ask our victim how she feels about that.”

Astrid moaned into the rollerball.

“That bad? She may not make it, listeners. Avowed Lucille, how will you explain this to your millions of fans?”

“I was going to grab her, but then I was afraid of grabbing her too hard.”

“We should practice trust falls!” Astrid scrambled onto her feet. “I’ll jump at you, and you catch me! Without breaking me. On three. One, two—”

“I think you should all get your suits on first,” Vandy said, folding her uniform neatly before placing it in her bag. “There are guests coming to our class today, so we should be even earlier than usual if we can.”

“Guests?” Astrid asked, knees still bent in preparation for a spring toward Lucille.

“Don’t bother,” Everly said. “She won’t tell us anything but that.”

“Aww. All right, all right. What were we all gossiping about before Lucille tried to kill me?”

“What Alden really did while he was on Moon Thegund.”

“If we should ask one of the guys to ask Shrike to kill people faster. Maybe Ignacio thinks he’s being a good sport by slowly stalking weaker people around the dueling blocks, but it’s scary!”

“Maricel getting what amounts to days of private lessons with Fragment. It’s unfair, and I don’t care if everyone thinks I’m a bitch for saying it.”

“Whether Kon and Lexi look like that naturally or if their parents lied to them about having them designed.”

“The best kinds of pet for every class.”

“Commendations. And people we know who have them. And if any Rabbit has ever gotten one before. I think no. Right? Probably no.”

“Soy sauce and butter being a better rice topping than anything else.”

“Wasaabiiiii!”

“Olive was trying to say even if the B-ranks are doing better than her and S?ren right now, it won’t be like that in eight years.”

Kon held up two fingers.

“Two votes on all class votes?” Alden asked. “Forever?”

“Absolutely not,” said Haoyu. “Not unless I get extra. My mom has more than you.”

“My grandfather has a commendation,” Febri announced. “So I vote yes twice on wasabi.”

“Look what you did, Alden,” said Kon. “Now we’ve got people thinking Artonan honors are genetically heritable. No. One extra vote for Alden. For wasabi.”

“That’s all I get?” said Alden. “I was brave; the commendation even says so.”

“Listen.” Kon tossed his t-shirt veil like it was long hair. “If you want more votes, get another commendation.”

“Don’t make it too easy on him,” said Haoyu. “Make him get a better commendation next time.”

By the time the group had finished debating the rules for commendation earners getting extra say in unimportant votes, Alden was dressed in his gym suit and feeling unexpectedly grateful toward his classmates. A couple of them hadn’t joined in with the joking around, but there was no reason to read anything into that.

These guys are mostly good guys, he thought, following Ignacio out the door. The Meister was giving S?ren a pep talk. Despite all the different dumbassery that goes on.

Ignacio and Febri both seemed to be driving S?ren a little nuts. Apparently, they were still feeling guilty and trying to make up for the whole pressure-induced, self-burning incident. As of Monday’s class, S?ren hadn’t managed to get the hang of his shaping, which they seemed to feel might be weighing on his mood.

[I don’t think complimenting him on his ability to glow is as nice as they think it is,] Alden texted Lexi and Haoyu. [He’s been able to glow since the first day.]

Lexi shook his head.

[Why no brain text?] Haoyu demanded. He stared at Lexi. [Never brain text as much as me.]

[It’s true,] said Alden. [You don’t.]

“I’m focusing on Writher. Mental texting can wait until I’m—”

[Practicing in private so he never talks bad!] Haoyu proclaimed, nodding at Alden.

[That seems like a likely possibility,] Alden agreed.

Lexi rolled his eyes at them. “There’s nothing wrong with mastering it in a less confusing way.”

[Type word coward with cow part in angry font. Coward. COWard. There. Mooooo.]

Haolyu looked triumphant. Lexi looked unimpressed.

It’s okay here on Anesidora. Better than okay a lot of the time.

“Why were you guys shouting ‘pickled ginger’ at us?” Astrid called from up ahead.

“You were shouting wasabi at us!” Kon called back.

“Your favorite rice topping is ginger?”

“What? No. It’s spicy mayonnaise. Weren’t we shouting about sushi?”

I think it’s been a good day.

From talking with Porti-loth in the elevator to deciding Chicago couldn’t be a priority. From personal training at North of North to a kid with a can of peas to a spell cast correctly for the first time. To here. Now.

Alden still had that raw, clear feeling that had accompanied him since this morning. Like he’d cut something away and it hurt, but he was moving better for it.

Probably his time with Yenu-pezth and having a straightforward goal was contributing as well.

“Principal Saleh said gym today might be rowdy. Do you guys know why?”

“No,” said Haoyu, “but I will commit to being the rowdiest person in the whole...the...um, does anyone else see my mom swinging my dad around like she’s going to hammer throw him? Or is this a new version of that dream I had one time about...?”

They’d entered the gym to the sight of a few unexpected adults, but before those adults could be examined, Haoyu’s father was flying toward them, curling up like a human cannonball and then uncurling at the last second to smash his bare feet into the invisible barrier high over their heads that marked the boundary at the edge of the magic floor. He launched himself back toward his wife with his arms outstretched. He flew like a rocket, and they collided with a sound like boulders crashing together. Or maybe that was just Alden’s imagination.

Mrs. Zhang-Demir didn’t budge a centimeter, and they were both grinning so wide that Alden could tell even from this far away.

“Haoyu,” Kon whispered, nudging him with one elbow, “that’s how you were ma—”

“You can go there if you want to,” Haoyu whispered back, “but I would’t. Your own parents are basically circus performers.”

Kon looked like he was considering the risk versus the reward.

“Floor on!” Vandy announced.

In spite of the note of expectation in her voice, it took everyone else a few seconds to return the call, since they were all spreading out and surging forward to get a better view.

******

The battle between Haoyu’s parents only lasted a few minutes, just until the official start of class. It was too short for most viewers, but too long for Haoyu, who was trying to look unfazed while his father’s interface name tag shifted through a variety of increasingly interesting names.

From Omega Scorpii Zhang to things like Haoyu’s Favorite Superhero and Look, Son, I’m Upside Down. Alden’s personal favorite was I Could Kill a Tank Faster Than Anyone Else in This Room! because it prompted Big Snake to hurl a metal pole right at Mr. Zhang-Demir, and watching the pole bend around his raised forearm like the metal was soft modeling clay was a great visual aid to show the forces involved.

It also made Alden curious about the pile of junk Big Snake was standing beside. He was watching the Zhang-Demirs with Instructor Klein, Vandy’s mom, Galecourse, and an Indian woman who Ignacio had run over to talk to as soon as he spotted her. She was his grandmother, according to Febri.

When the demonstration was over, and it was time to join the instructors and visitors on the floor, they found out that the class was going to be a kind of obstacle course.

“But the obstacles,” Instructor Waker said, “will be all of us.”

Haoyu’s father and Ignacio’s grandmother looked convincingly murderous for a second before they both broke into broad smiles again.

“No time wasted today,” Instructor Klein said in a clipped voice. “Not even on instructions except for these few. Form teams of five. Make it from that end of the gym—”

He nodded toward the locker rooms, and Alden looked behind him to see a black starting line appearing at the edge of the white floor.

“—to that one.” Klein gestured toward the opposite side of the gym. “You can try anything you want to try and see where it gets you.”

“What’s the pain realism setting?” someone asked.

“Figure it out as you go.”

“Do we attack the other teams, or—?”

“Figure that out, too.”

“Tell them about the pizza party,” Instructor Waker said.

“You have today’s class and Friday’s to get across the floor one time,” said Klein. “This is thanks to the generosity of these current and former heroes. We’ve had a record number of family members and alumni volunteering their help since the disaster, and we’re getting organized to make sure none of you miss out on the benefits of their experience and support. Anyone who succeeds by the end of class Friday can have a personal lesson here in the gym with the volunteer of their choice. There’s a list of available heroes and faculty members, with their schedules...”

It was hard to hear what he was saying over the burst of excited voices and Marsha shouting, “How long do we get to fight them for, and do we get the whole gym or just a block?”

Klein was uncommonly patient with the outburst, but his tone was also amusingly severe as he added, “And regardless of your success, there will be a pizza party picnic at the track on Friday after class. Attendance is optional. We’re sorry your class dinner ended on such a bad note. Now...form your teams.”

******