The School of Swords and Serpents seemed smaller when I returned for my second year.

Three months of traveling around the world as the School’s champion had shown me towering skyscrapers and sprawling neon-lit cities. The Five Dragons Challenge had taken me to the overcities of Kyoto, Ulaanbaatar, Moscow, Dallas, London, and more in all their lavish glory. I’d also visited the undercities of New York, Cairo, and Paris. The world that had seemed so large when I was trapped in my work camp had become a tiny place, its far-flung cities connected by portal networks that let me cross continents with a single step.

It wasn’t just the School that had shrunk in my eyes.

Everything seemed smaller now.

“Thank you for your assistance, honored Officer Fezal.” I bowed low to the Portal Defense Force escort who’d overseen my speedy jaunt from the Atlantis overcity back to the school. “I am in your debt.”

“It was my pleasure, honored champion,” Fezal responded, with a low bow of his own. “It is not every day I provide transport to the undefeated warrior of the Five Dragons Challenge. Twenty-five cities and not a single loss. Most impressive.”

My bow went a little lower to hide the flush that rose in my cheeks at Fezal’s praise. I still hadn’t gotten used to all the changes that had come with my rise to champion. I wasn’t sure I’d ever adjust to being treated not as an outcast, but a treasured member of Empyreal society.

“Be well, Officer Fezal,” I said. “And thank you again.”

“Be well, Champion Warin.” Fezal stepped back through the dark gateway and his portal vanished.

Relieved to be alone, if even for a moment, I took a deep breath and cycled sea air through my recently advanced core. I’d gone from a child’s foundation-level core to the more advanced initiate-level core during my time on the tour. That had increased my core’s ability to store jinsei for later use and further refined my already advanced skills at purifying the sacred energy. I split the salt and water aspects from the sea jinsei, and the purified sacred energy settled easily into my eclipse core, as secure as water in a bottle.

My eyes burned with unshed tears at this simple miracle. I’d spent my whole life with a hollow core, unable to hold on to even the smallest wisps of sacred energy for longer than a handful of seconds. Then I’d gained an eclipse core, and everything changed. I’d become stronger than I’d ever imagined, more powerful than most of those who’d ridiculed me when I was weak.

Those memories stirred the coals of old anger, and my fists clenched into white-knuckled knots. I’d already beaten one of my tormentors, Hank Eli, during my first fight as champion. The duel had been a lopsided mess; the old champion had never had a chance against me. Neither would the others who’d stood against me.

Hagar.

Rafael.

Professor Ishigara.

Dark thoughts of revenge swirled out of my core and filled my head with dark images. This is what The Manual of the New Moon had called ‘the Eclipse nature’ and what I hoped to master during my second year at the School of Swords and Serpents. Because if I couldn’t control the dark urges that had haunted me throughout the Five Dragons Challenge, I was a terrifying danger to myself and everyone around me.

Serpents of light burst from my core and plunged into the sand at my feet. A patch of scrubby grass at the beach’s edge blackened and crumbled to ash. The sea breeze blew their dark remains away, leaving no trace there’d ever been anything there at all.

“Welcome back!” Niddhogg called from beneath the torii that framed the path up to the school. His stubby wings flapped excitedly and lifted him a few feet off the ground. He waved both his front claws at me, and I couldn’t help but grin.

I banished my hungry serpents and let the sea breeze wash through my core a final time. When I exhaled, I let go of the bad old memories and the rage they’d ignited. Experience during the tour had taught me the fires of that black rage would only burn me if left unchecked. Better to focus on the future and leave the past behind me.

Because the eclipse core had already claimed a high price for the power it had granted me. I didn’t ever want anyone to pay it again.

“Coming,” I called out to Niddhogg, and raced the first rays of dawn’s light up the path to meet him.

“How’s my favorite dragon doing?” I rubbed the ruff of bristly scales between the dragon’s nubs of horns.

“Not as good as you, apparently,” the black dragon said with a lopsided grin. “I’ve been stuck in this dump while you’ve been out showing off for the crowds. I must have watched you beat a hundred contenders.”

I blushed so hard I thought my cheeks had caught fire.

“You watched me fight?” I’d done my best to pretend the cameras and castcrystals weren’t there while I was in the ring. The only person I’d hoped would see me was my mom, and her only because I’d thought she might come to one of the fights. Niddhogg’s admission that he’d seen so many of those fights made me want to crawl into a hole and die.

“Everyone watched you fight.” The dragon chuckled and jerked his head toward the School. “Kitchen’s open. Let’s get you some breakfast before the initiates arrive for their induction. Anyway, after what happened in Singapore, your ratings went through the roof.”

Singapore.

My stomach tied itself into a knot at the memory. The contender with the jinsei weapons hidden in the folds of his gi. Those twin blade of pure sacred energy had stabbed straight for my heart.

I’d never been so scared.

Or so furious.

“There were some good contenders.” I pivoted the conversation away from that horrible day. “A couple of them almost took me down.”

“Bah,” the black dragon scoffed at the idea. “A few of them made you chase them around the ring. None of them really had a chance, champ.”

Champ.

I had something in my eye again.

“Who else is here?” It was time to talk about literally anyone else. My cheeks would burst into flames if the dragon said anything else nice about me.

“The Disciples of Jade Flame showed up a couple of days ago with their new initiates. Resplendent Suns showed up yesterday morning with the new headmaster. Most of the Shadow Phoenix upperclassmen came in last night,” Niddhogg said. “Including Hagar.”

That name made my blood run cold. She was the warden who’d nearly killed me, then exposed my misdeeds to the world. If Hagar had her way, I’d have been bounced out of the School and straight into prison. She, and the rest of the Shadow Phoenix clan, had hated me for refusing to bow down to the people who wanted me to fail.

Thinking about the warden and what she’d done threw me into a foul mood. A hunger took root inside me, and I knew the buffet wouldn’t satisfy it.

“Sorry, Nidd,” I said to the dragon. My voice was tight and sounded unnatural even to my ears. “I need to take a raincheck on breakfast. I’m not feeling great.”

“Ah, man,” the dragon pouted. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything about Hagar.”

“It’s okay,” I lied. “I never really adapted well to portal travel, and all the jumping around has me off my game.”

The miniature black dragon eyed me for a moment, then shrugged.

“Suit yourself, kid,” he said. “If you change your mind, I’ll be in there stuffing my belly with bacon.”

“Sure.” We’d reached the school. I gave the dragon another scratch on the head, then opened the heavy front doors. “We’ll catch up later.”

“Take it easy.” Niddhogg flapped its wings and floated past me toward the dining room. He glanced over his shoulder as he went, and I gave him a fake smile and a little wave to send him on his way.

I bolted out of the main entryway the instant the dragon had turned his attention away from me. My muscles cramped and my molars ground together. Reckless thoughts tumbled through my head, and it was a dark test of my self-control to resist them.

The urges had been coming closer together since Singapore.

Worse, they were getting stronger.

I willed myself to find a courtyard, and the School’s shifty architecture twisted around me. Instead of leading me outside, the hallway funneled me down a rickety set of stairs and into a narrow, stone corridor. The only light came from narrow slits of windows up near the ceiling, and most of that was obscured by thick blades of grass. I was underground, somewhere below the school. I’d never been there before, but there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of other places in the school’s sprawling campus that I’d never discovered.

A curious chittering sound plucked at my attention. A black rat, fat and juicy, emerged from a hole in the wall. It perked up on its haunches and stared at me.

My Eclipse nature surged to the fore of my thoughts. Its hunger made my jaws ache and my stomach growl. I knew what it wanted, and I struggled to refuse its demand.

“Go away,” I pleaded with the rodent. “Please, just go away.”

The creature had other ideas. It sensed something familiar about me, and scampered down the tunnel, sniffing the air as it bounded along. The little beast was so excited. It must have been one of the rats I’d bonded with last year. We’d been friends. Now it was coming to play.

I wanted to run away from the little guy before he got too close. My darker nature, however, had other ideas. The ache in my core cemented my feet in place.

When the rat was fifteen feet away, I crouched down and held my hand out to it. The urge was too strong for me to resist.

“Come here,” I whispered in a shaky voice.

The rat stopped and reared up on its hind legs, as if sensing danger. Its whiskers twitched, and it licked its paws nervously. The black marbles of its eyes were glued to mine.

For a moment, I hoped it saw the Eclipse nature that stirred within me. If the rat ran away, I could resist the urges. I could do that much. If it got any closer, though, I wasn’t sure my willpower would hold out against my core.

The rodent dropped back to all fours and rushed toward me. Its bounding steps carried it to me like a puppy, eager to beg treats from its master.

My Borrowed Core technique forged a connection to the curious rat in the blink of an eye. Our breaths fused before I was even aware of what had happened. My time in the arenas had honed my instincts and reflexes to a razor’s edge. For the first time, I regretted just how fluid my control over my techniques had become.

“I won’t hurt you,” I whispered to the rat. The promise was a plea to my Eclipse nature to please, please behave. A heavy pressure built behind my eyes, and I knew they’d turned as black as a shark’s.

Images of Singapore flashed through my mind again, as fresh and raw as if they’d happened just moments past, not two months ago.

His name had been Thomas N’gaori, a promising young martial artist from the work camps outside the overcity.

It had all happened so fast.

Thomas had lunged forward with a double palm strike aimed at my chest. Twin blades of jinsei had erupted from the simple cord bracelets around his wrists in the same instant he’d thrust a clumsy serpent strike from his palms.

My mind had registered the attack a split-second too late to defend against it

My Eclipse nature, however, was faster than the speed of thought and reacted to protect me before I could stop it. The truth I’d hidden from everyone, even myself when I could, was that I wouldn’t have stopped my core even if I’d been fast enough.

The contender come into that ring ready to kill me. And in the moment when he’d revealed that intent, I’d been beyond furious. If he’d only used a different tactic, some trick that would have immobilized or stunned me so he could score a point, it all would have worked out differently.

But that’s not what the contender had done. He’d elevated the stakes in a stupid attempt to defeat the School’s champion.

In the instant before his death, Thomas had looked at me with the same open, hopeless eyes as the rat crouched at my feet. He’d seen his death coming like a freight train and hadn’t been fast or strong enough to avoid it.

“I won’t hurt you,” I promised the rat.

My aura filled with the rat’s feral and animal aspects as our breaths cycled through my core. I licked my lips at the taste of the creature’s essence. It would be so easy to pluck out its core. No more than a moment’s thought.

Just like Thomas N’gaori.

Alive, vital, one moment.

A dead husk the next.

No.

Killing was too easy. I wouldn’t give in to that urge again. I was the master of my core, not the other way around.

I forced my body to obey my command, lowered my hand to my side, and stood up.

The rat squeaked and rushed off, frightened by the exuberant footsteps headed down the old passageway.

“What are you doing down here?” Clem called out.

Beams of light fell across my back and cast long, distorted shadows down the hall. I took a deep breath and pushed the urge down deep. That had been far too close. I waited until the pressure behind my eyes had retreated and then turned around.

“Looking for Hahen,” I said. “I thought the alchemy laboratory was this way, but I guess not.”

There was a kernel of truth in that. I wanted to see the ancient rat spirit again to thank him for the training he’d given me. There hadn’t been time to hunt him down at the end of last year, and I’d regretted it ever since.

“He’s definitely not down here,” Eric said. When he wrinkled his nose like that, the diagonal scar he’d earned in last year’s final challenge really stood out. “Let’s get out of here and find something to eat before the newbs arrive and get all the bacon.”

“Buffet’s open,” I offered as I headed toward my friends.

“We know that, silly,” Clem said. “When we didn’t find you there, we came looking for you. It’s a good thing you stopped moving around, or we’d have never found you.”

Clem passed through a shaft of early morning sunlight that highlighted all the ways she’d changed over the summer. She’d chopped her dark hair off short and dyed the remaining spikes neon pink. She still wore the sky-blue robes of the Thunder’s Children clan, though this year she’d added bold scrivenings that glowed with shifting white and pink patterns around her waist. Her robes’ style was also far from traditional, with no arms, and a skirt slit far up to the hip on both sides. She wore bright pink knee-length bike shorts under the robes, and a pair of rugged black jika-tabi with glowing white laces and chunky soles that added an inch to her height.

“You look awesome,” I said. She really did. The look suited her more than I would have expected.

“And how do I look?” Abi razzed me. He’d grown over the summer and seemed more like a full-grown man than the tall teenager he’d been the last time I’d seen him. His smile lit up his face when he spoke, even though it didn’t reach his probing eyes. His robes were far more utilitarian than Clem’s and didn’t look anything like the gear of the Titan’s of Majestic Stone he usually sported.

“You’re in the Portal Defense Force?” I asked when I recognized the white and gray uniform as the same style Fezal had worn. “I didn’t know they allowed students to sign up for that duty.”

“You made things very interesting when you discovered the emissary from the Locust Court,” Abi said. “And the anti-Flame protests have everyone on edge. The school staff and the Empyreal Council decided it was best to have a junior force here on campus until we were sure there were no other hungry spirits lurking about.”

My Eclipse nature stirred at his words, and I faked a cough to hide the darkness I knew had flickered across my eyes. I’d defeated the Locust Court spirit by pulling a part of it into my core. A part I still battled every day.

I was very close to being one of the hungry spirits they were all worried about.

“Let’s eat,” I said with a forced smile.

“Finally,” Eric let out a long, melodramatic sigh. He spun on his heel and headed for the stairs.

Clem snorted with laughter and followed after the Resplendent Sun, while Abi and I took up the rear of our little group.

The Titan eyed me as we headed back to the dining hall. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Something bothering you?” I asked, more sharply than intended.

“My friend is unhappy,” he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “And that bothers me.”

“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” I said. “Honestly, Abi, I’m doing great.”

My friend’s dark eyes probed mine as we walked, and I felt the weight of his attention fall across my aura like a damp towel. For a moment, I wondered if his senses had penetrated the veil wrapped around my core.

“Ah, Jace,” Abi said. He squeezed my shoulder firmly, offering his support. “No man can be truly happy until he is at peace with himself.”

We’d reached the main hall and were suddenly surrounded by other upperclassmen who’d arrived ahead of the new batch of initiates.

“I’m good, man,” I said to Abi. “Honest.”

“You are good,” Abi said, a strange emphasis on the middle word. He tapped his finger against my chest. “You are not, however, at peace. Those two things may be related. Tell the others I had to check in with my squad. I’ll catch you at lunch.”

He winked and backed away from me, swallowed by the crowd.

I was glad that Abi seemed to have forgiven me for what had happened last year. But something about his words chilled me, and I wasn’t sure what he meant.

I shook my head and headed to breakfast, glad to be back at the School and unsure of what the year would bring.