BA 3 - Chapter 13

Mae woke me as morning broke and I sat up quietly. It was still dark in the small room, and no one else roused at my movement. The nip of fall was in the air despite the window being shuttered from the elements, and I shivered.

I breathed deeply and checked my energy reserves—low, of course. I could spare some for a little warmth, and cycled the muscle boosting zo through my first band. With a moment of quiet, I took a second to review the progress on the third, larger band.

My core came into view in my mind like a glowing gold hexahedron, the black crystal nestled in the rings at the center. The third band, held in place by tiny support beams to the second band, floated darkly. Without a connected ring, I couldn’t force energy through it. The third band was significantly larger than the second since it had to encompass the core and the two bands that preceded it.

I had high hopes I would be able to get it nearly completed by the end of the exchange, but if Ko-nah was going to interfere at every step, I would have to put special effort and attention into keeping him out of our business.

I spend a bit of energy on building the third band out a little farther. If I had the time now in the early mornings, that was when I would have to work on myself. The third band would open up a new world of spells. The triangular configuration that could be designed through the bands would create very stable munje that could travel long distances and stay in effect for weeks at a time.

‘Is Ko-nah awake?’ I asked Mae while I knitted the recycled zo munje into my third band.

“They all seem to be sleeping,” she reported.

I slipped out of the blankets and rolled up my bed, then changed into the Anbura provided uniform. It was heavier than I expected, but the material flowed and stretched with ease. The pants were tight, but flexible. I wiggled my legs around some to get the fitting waistband to sit comfortably on my hips.

The black shirt was also form fitting, highlighting Mae’s disc imbedded in my chest. The silky robes of silver and black felt like wrapping myself in luxury rather than a uniform. It tied at the waist and flowed past my hips to my shins. The sleeves were wide and short, ending at my elbows, but the form fitting shirt went all the way to my wrists.

I dropped into horse stance without the typical clothing restriction at the thighs. I dropped even lower, chuckling at the incredible flex in the material.

“Like wearing a second skin, isn’t it?” Ko-nah whispered from his bed and I spun toward him.

“It’s comfortable,” I replied flatly, trying not to appear startled. Once again, Ko-nah had outsmarted Mae’s detection, and I’d been unprepared.

“I hope you’re comfortable with butchering animals,” Ko-nah said. He rolled up his bed and placed it next to mine.

“What does that mean?” I asked. I smoothed out the folds of the new robes, then grabbed my Bastion pin and affixed it to the breast of the tight shirt.

“We’re one of the hunting teams today.”

Ko-nah turned away from me as he dressed. He was skinnier than I remembered, and there was a litany of fresh, pink scars across his back. I looked for the telltale signs of ry manipulation, but there were none. He’d been brutally beaten by someone, but who?

I scowled and dismissed the thought. I didn’t care who’d done this to him. He deserved worse.

Yen, Roku, and Koga roused and dressed without much conversation. We traveled together to the dining room where a small offering of rice porridge, eggs, remnants of last night’s dinner, and some fresh fruits were set out at each table.

When we sat, Roku and Koga went to work dishing out portions to each of us and brewing a fresh pot of tea that smelled of roasted rice and fresh herbs. It was savory, and potent. They explained more of the academy’s ways as we ate.

Anbura was one of six schools in Kokyu that still practiced the old ways of being completely self-sustaining. The only purchases they made were for rice, parchment, and metals. They earned enough money to do so by completing tasks and chores for the residents of Sonma—which was becoming sparse due to the Enjiho filling that need. Everything else was grown, foraged, or built by the students and instructors of the school.

They all spoke of the traditions with reverence. They felt lucky they’d been accepted into the school where they honored the ways of their fathers and mothers. Even Ko-nah seemed to be at peace in his new world—which I couldn’t trust for a second.

“I’ve hunted before, and butchered an animal,” I said, looking to Ko-nah.

Yen chuckled. “I wonder if there will be anything at all we can teach you.”

“Of that I’m certain,” Ko-nah said. “You’ve told me of your interest in machina. We have a very special method of connecting with our ma in Kokyu I know you’re sure to be intrigued by.”

I raised and eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You like machina?” Koga asked and refilled my tea. I noticed his eyes darting to my chest, then back to the teacup as he worked. It was going to come up eventually, especially if there was a group shower situation like Bastion—which reminded me I hadn’t seen showers anywhere.

I pulled the fitted shirt and robe aside to show off the disc imbedded in my chest. “I have an interesting relationship with machina. I also fight battle bots, so anything to give me an edge against my enemies would be greatly appreciated.”

Ko-nah’s lips flickered up to a smirk and the younger students pined over me.

“Did that hurt?” Koga asked.

“Immensely.”

“What happened?” Roku asked.

I told them the story that we’d told everyone at Bastion and watched Ko-nah from the corner of my eye. When I concluded the story, including the bits about my family, Hana’s involvement, and the coma, they all bowed.

Yen touched my shoulder, a pained look pinching his brow. “Sounds like you’ve had it rough.”

“Not as bad as some. I wasn’t poisoned last year like my friend Cho,” I said, gesturing across the room to the tall, golden-haired boy. When all the others looked, Ko-nah stared at me. His expression was unreadable, and still.\

“Well, it’s time for us to get under way,” Yen said and stood, leaving his empty dishes at the table.

Anbura was so different from Bastion. Each living unit like Long River was assigned rotating tasks. They employed no staff to help clean or cook and did everything on their own. It was not so unlike my own home when we’d lived on the farm, something I’d tried hard to get away from.

There was no time to feel sentimental as we geared up for the hunt. Yen was armed with a long bow and arrows while the rest of us were given ropes, nets, and packing equipment. We left on foot through the back gate and headed straight into the mountainous terrain.

The scent of industry was on the air from Dokun’s factory, and it took us nearly an hour to escape the smell. We stopped at a babbling stream and Yen paused for a quick break. He showed me the li spell for tracking to expose animal footprints and movements that have damaged branches or disturbed grasses.

We cycled a few breaths for li and I kept Sung-ki’s lesson in mind, focusing my attention on finding damaged plant matter. When I had enough li stored, Yen showed me the motion to cast the spell. He spun in a gentle circle with his arms out, releasing the yellowish-green munje from his fingertips as he did.

The munje fell and settled on the grass next to the river, and after a moment soaked into the ground. After another minute, teardrop shaped hoof-prints glowed up from the thick blades of grass.

Yen knelt at the lit-up tracks. “The munje gets into the root system, finds the broken blades, then activates the plants own munje to create the glow. This can keep the trail lit for many kilometers, as long as the roots aren’t interrupted.”

I nodded and thought back to the many times Se-hun and I had tracked wild metalmaw boars by hand and eye alone. It had been an arduous hunt, but we couldn’t have the boars chewing up the machina at the arborum. For the ones we hadn’t damaged too severely, their meat sold for a fair amount of guli.

We took a moment to refill our flasks at the stream, which was another lesson in water movement and purification for the younger students. After a single day I could see how this integrated way of learning was superior to Bastion’s narrowly focused classroom setting. I wondered why so many schools in Busa-nan followed that model?

When we were all well refreshed and prepared for the hunt, we hurried on our way. The Anbura students were silent as ghosts and lithe as cats as they navigated the rocky terrain of their home. I felt like someone had oil-slicked the sole of my shoes, and wasn’t representing Bastion very well to these foreign friends—who could turn enemy at any moment.

Yen called us to stop and whispered, “They’re close. Roku and Koga, you will take a wide birth west. Stay downwind of them. Prepare your nets and your ry glimmers to cage them in. Aki and Jiyong, follow them, then take to the north and do the same. I will be able to hit one or two before the group scares, then I’ll run them into your traps. Got it?”

I didn’t want to be paired with Ko-nah, but Yen was the elder of the group and gave the orders. If I had a problem with something he said, I’d need to have a good reason to oppose it, which I didn’t. It made me miss Mae’s presence.

If it’d been safe enough for Mae to speak more often, she would’ve had something smart to say that would get me away from Ko-nah. But we had to keep chatter to a minimum, just in case my shield failed.

We dispersed as ordered, casting ry dampening spells around us to quiet our footfalls. I hunched down, making my profile small among the tall grass and bushes. I tried to keep Yen and the highlighted tracks in my sights as we moved, but at some point, Yen disappeared. Likely getting ready to spring the trap.

Koga and Roku stopped and began setting up their nets, leaving Ko-nah and I to go on alone. After another minute of creeping through the forest, I lost sight of the younger boys too.

“I was trying to save my mother,” Ko-nah said.

I hushed him, then whispered, “You’ll scare our prey.”

Ko-nah tutted. “The ry dampening is so thick you could fart into the wind and not scare a badgermouse.”

I scowled, adopting a tactic of bluntness from Yuri. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Your father didn’t know it was you. I told him who you were.”

Heat burned up my chest into my cheeks. My heart pounded away and I glared daggers into the back of Ko-nah’s skull. That was what he wanted. He wanted me angry so I would act foolishly. Was Ko-nah going to turn on me out here?

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my calm. I considered all the weapons I had on hand: a good length of rope, a net, a large butchering knife, and a fair number of rocks close enough to snatch. I didn’t want it to come to that.

Ko-nah went on when I hadn’t replied. “My mother is my only family. Father died after my birth and in the words of Wansil Wong, I had ruined my mother’s womb. He wanted to marry again, but couldn’t bring himself the disgrace of divorce—nor did he want to risk losing any of his wealth, or having his secrets revealed.

“Wong had been selling drugs made from the Dragon’s Blood plant for years. It was his father’s business before him, and a Wong family tradition of being thugs and gangsters. But then Wong received an offer from Dokun Yamamotto that far exceeded any of his fathers’ successes, if he could pull it off. The power of his position, of the family’s wealth, was going to his head, and he started talking about alternatives to divorce.”

Ko-nah glanced over his shoulder, as if to confirm I was still listening. “He was going to murder my mother in cold blood, and likely me when I discovered the truth. That was when my only choice arrived. Hiro Kumiho needed to know who had found an activated an ancient ghost. I’d told him I’d investigate it. Then, I remembered I’d seen you going from being an average outer-city nobody to the best student in the class just last year. The timeline estimate Hiro gave me matched up with you accidentally merging with your schedule disc, and so I knew I needed to get into your circle to confirm it.”

“If you don’t want to die in this forest, I recommend adopting silence immediately,” I said through teeth clenched so hard I thought my jaw might break. I didn’t want to hear his story. I didn’t want to know his side. He was exactly who he’d proven himself to be when he decided to poison his brothers and sisters.

“I didn’t give you up right away, of course, you were my trump card. I waited for the moment Wong’s fist would close around my mother’s throat, when there was no other hope. I wouldn’t have done what I did if I’d had any other choice.”

“Enough.”

Ko-nah stopped and turned to me. “You would do anything for your mother—

“Not that,” I growled, my face burning. The zo infused in my muscles ached to be released, but I held it in. I took a deep breath and looked away, focusing on the orange and red of the fall trees.

But what if I would have? What if I had been Ko-nah, my mother—the only person I had in the world—was going to be murdered by some gangster on a power trip? No. I would’ve figured something out. I couldn’t have done that.

I had to stay calm. Ko-nah was trying to expose my true nature in Kokyu because he was still working for Dokun and Hiro. I had to protect my friends and complete the mission.

With one more deep breath, I turned my attention back to the task at hand: hunting. I walked past Ko-nah, following the angle of the sun to approximate my position.

“Is your family alright?” Ko-nah asked, his voice strained with false concern.

I held my tongue.

“I know, why should I care, right?” He asked. He set his pack down next to mine and moved to help me with the net.

I breathed slowly through my nose and released calming zo down my chest to slow my heart. I cleared my mind of the anger—or tried to—and kept working.

Ko-nah shrugged. “I did care. I do still care. I just needed to save my mother more back then.”

“We were expendable to you,” I snapped.

I brought myself up to my full height and bared down on him with a pointed finger. “You looked at the lives of thousands and decided your selfish need for your mother was more important than the needs of hundreds of children who needed theirs. Of brothers who needed their sisters, and wives who needed their husbands. You chose to sacrifice every and any other life—it didn’t matter how many—to save the one you loved. You’re evil, no different from Kumiho.”

“Stop,” Ko-nah whispered, his eyes round and full of fear.

I sneered. “Don’t pretend to be wounded. My words don’t affect you.”

Ko-nah trembled. “Shūspekta.”

It was a word I’d never heard before, but the low growl from behind me confirmed I had made a grave mistake. The underbrush snapped as something big—much bigger than me—stomped closer.

‘Mae, help me shield us.’ I twisted my fingers and released a thick plume of purple munje to further dampen our sound and scent.

“No, stop!” Ko-nah whispered and grabbed my hands. “They’re attracted to munje.”

I wished Woong-ji had taught me the recall spell in time, but it was so advanced that none of us had even recalled a speck of munje all summer. I tried anyway, aligning my bands for the double ry I just dumped. I imagined the munje flowing backwards through the crystal and into the bands. It was no use.

The purple drifted up on the gentle breeze. The creature inhaled hard through whistling nostrils. I turned very slowly, trying not to make a sound. The monster stood two meters tall on all fours and was at least twice the girth of a horse. It was covered in black fur that shimmered green and purple in the sunlight—no, the fur was pulsing at the scent of munje.

The shūspekta inhaled through a long slit of a nostril that ran most the length of its maw. Its eyes blazed purple and set its gaze on me. Its thick jaw opened wide, saliva dripping from dagger-like teeth, then it bellowed a roar that shook the bones in my chest.

And here I thought Ko-nah was the most dangerous thing in the forest.

There was no time to coordinate the plan with Mae, so I prayed to Jigu she was paying close attention to my thoughts. I shoved Ko-nah away, then flicked en munje onto the rocks at my feet.

The shūspekta leapt forward with a vicious snarl, one clawed paw reaching out to bat me down. I bent my knees and thrust my arms into the air, ripping the boulders from their earthly home to create a wall. The creature’s massive paw collided with the rocks, cracking them.

It yelped, retracting its paw. I sent enzo to my foot, then spun and kicked the boulders into the monster. The shūspekta reared up and a blue barrier of enzo rippled across its chest. The rocks burst into fine sand on impact and blew away on the wind.

“Tungpah,” I whispered.