Chapter 23
Looking For Trouble Again
Over the next six days, my schedule fell into place just as Veda had laid out after our tour.
Wake up and breakfast.
Classes all morning.
A total feast for lunch.
Training all afternoon.
A fantastically-themed, billion-course dinner.
By the time I made it back to my room, I barely managed a shower before crashing into dreamless oblivion.
Veda wasn’t joking about getting answers. I got answers, alright.
Answers to questions I didn’t even know to ask.
Just as the letter had promised.
The classrooms at Chapel were far more creative than the ones at Babel.
Had to give them that. Each one mirrored the subject it covered.
The room for Ancient Texts was practically a second library, its walls stacked high with books and scrolls.
The class on the five elements was divided into five sections that highlighted the unique qualities of each type.
Lumos was all brightness and warmth, filled with puzzles and first-aid simulations.
Neko was the coolest, packed with weapons and obstacle courses.
But my favorite room was the one where our Charisms class met.
Spheres of frosted glass floated midair.
Inside each globe, a soft golden light shimmered and shifted like trapped trails of malfunctioning nanos.
When touched, they provided the student who’d made contact with an immersive demo of a Charism’s power.
We were limited to one demo per week because the experience was touted as addictive.
I’d only had one demo in total—the ability to see through walls—and wholeheartedly agreed with the dangers of frequent use. If given free rein, I’d be jonesing for a Charism hit every chance possible.
More answers only bred more questions.
Just as the orbs filled my veins with desire to experience power in increasing quantity, the answers I got for my questions only pumped oxygen into the fire of curiosity eating away at the pit inside of me. Every answer led to twenty more questions, and every question had more than one answer.
At least training was a fun distraction.
No room for questions in my head when I had to use every morsel of energy to focus on the physical task at hand.
I spent my afternoons in private combat lessons with Veda, holed up in an unused classroom for hours on end.
Mostly hand-to-hand combat. She insisted on drilling me in the basics before I could get anywhere near the armory or training grounds.
She claimed our bodies moved differently outside of the climate-controlled, gravity-monitored environment of The Tower.
I had to relearn how to move on this new planet.
But today? Today was the day.
With a pen I’d snatched from one of the classrooms, I scratched off the sixth box on my makeshift calendar. Six boxes down and twenty-four more to go.
After a month, I’d have the Jonathon bow. Then I’d kill Azazel (with or without Veda’s help). And maybe—if I was lucky—I’d find Zade and convince him to flee The Tower with me before all hell broke loose.
One of the most critical answers the guild handed me over the past week was their plans to bring down The Tower.
Some swore it had to be done through violence, while others hoped for a more peaceful resolution.
Regardless, The Tower as I knew it couldn’t continue. The Guild of Sharona wouldn’t allow it.
Veda swore she’d delivered my message to Zade, but I hadn’t heard anything in return. Maybe he was pissed. Or perhaps he was done. Maybe he was just fed up with me and no longer wanted his fantasy of running away together.
As for Astrid? I’d never convince her to leave The Tower. I already knew that.
So maybe it would just be me.
Like it always had been.
With the way Soren had talked before, I would have previously thought he’d try to follow me—his duty as my Guardian or some bull.
Considering I’d barely seen him these past six days, and never once had he been looking in my direction, that didn’t seem so likely anymore.
He must have realized there was nothing in me worth guarding after all.
For now, I was doing my thirty days of penance.
Making the most of it.
I capped the pen, tossed it on the bedside table, and yanked on my boots, double-knotting them tight.
Today, I was finally going to the armory.
Trying not to smile to myself like an idiot, I purposefully didn’t rush from my room to head toward D-Block.
If the twins saw me with even an ounce of cheer or somewhere to go, they’d be sure to snuff it out and make me late.
They had been torturing me every chance they got since I’d arrived at Chapel.
And there were a lot of chances, considering one of them was always in one of my classes.
I didn’t have time for their stupid games today.
So, slow and steady was my game as I clothed myself in nonchalance and sauntered down the hall.
A whoosh of air escaped me in my relief at seeing Veda by the Wall of Calling. Another thing I learned this past week was that the twins wouldn’t mess with me if Veda was around. And they kept it mostly civil if Soren was around, which was only during mealtimes.
Otherwise, I never saw him. Good or bad, he hadn’t even glanced in my direction after that kiss—bite—whatever it was.
Made it a lot easier to enforce my no-fraternizing-with-the-enemy policy.
“Let’s get you armed,” Veda said with a grin.
I returned the gesture as I followed her to the D-Block, then down past four metal doors.
The fifth one beeped softly when she swiped a keycard in front of the green sensor.
With the door sliding open, the massive armory sprawled out for us.
It stretched to twice the size of the cafeteria.
Weapons lined every inch of the walls, and towering shelves and cabinets formed a maze that climbed two stories high.
Every type of weapon imaginable gleamed from polished wood, dark iron, chrome, or some tech alloy I didn’t recognize.
I let out a low whistle. “Whoah.”
Veda chuckled and swept her hand out towards the space with a flourish. “Feel free to explore.”
Didn’t have to tell me twice.
“Bows are row E, near the back,” she shouted after me.
I hadn’t touched a bow since graduation. The longest I’d gone without one in years. My fingers burned with their need for that comfortable weight.
Call me dramatic, but my eyes glazed over when I hit row E. It was not a small section. I’d need the rest of the day and maybe the next to get a good look at all of them, get intimate with them.
Longbows, recurves, reflex bows, shortbows—all lined in neat rows with pristine glass cases and metallic labels.
I even spotted a graviton bow and a magbow, both of which I’d had the distinct privilege of using at Babel.
And there—near the far end—hung the Chrono Bow.
My jaw dropped an inch.
I’d seen it in darkmos articles. A prototype designed for Mods to stop threats before they even committed crimes. I’d spent nights obsessively researching it. Dreaming of the weight of it in my hands. The tension of the strings. The smell of the arrow’s shaft. The power.
And its ability to kill Azazel.
My fingers reached out.
Then stopped midair.
Two other bows caught the edge of my vision. My hand dropped, and my feet moved toward these peculiar strangers. I stood in front of a glass case with the devastating weapons taunting me from the other side of locked doors.
I had never even heard of them, much less laid eyes on them.
The first blazed with flame, burning endlessly without turning to ash. The second twisted with thorned vines, slithering and sprouting right there before my eyes. They weren’t bows as much as they were works of art or figments of my imagination.
My breath caught in lungs that had stopped working.
Veda’s footsteps warned me before she spoke.
“The Phoenix and The Vine,” she said.
I didn’t turn to her or reply. I couldn’t. I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
I stepped closer to The Phoenix. Even through the glass, its heat rolled off in waves, daring me to reach out. Daring me to burn with it.
“If you like these,” Veda said, voice already drifting away, “Wait till you see Merm’s collection. You can use them once you get approval.”
“How do I get approval?” I asked firmly, dragging my eyes away from my new treasure to find her.
“You’ll join group training as soon as Ezra and Winifred think you’re ready,” she said. “Should be any day now. Then you’ll have to convince Merm that your shooting skills are up to par.”
“That won’t be an issue,” I promised.
Veda clucked her tongue with a knowing smile. “Come on, there’s one more section I think you’ll like.”
Seven rows later, we landed in an aisle filled with glass globes resting on red velvet cushions, each nestled beneath a locked case. They glowed softly, warm light radiating from within like a pulse.
“How many are there?” I asked as I ran a finger along one of the cases near the end of the shelf.
“Thousands,” Veda replied, pausing halfway down the aisle. “And these are just the Charisms we’ve discovered. Ezra thinks there could be millions.”
I walked toward her and peered at the globe she’d stopped in front of. A brass nameplate was mounted at the base of the glass.
SACRIFICE
“It’s the greatest gift of all,” she said quietly.
I turned to Veda, but her eyes were fixed on the orb.
“It’s the one that I want most,” she added. “If I could have any Charism, I’d give up all the others for this one.”
“How many do you have?”
“Thirty-seven.”
“What?!” I choked on air and took a step back. “Some people don’t even have one. How do you have thirty-seven?”
Her grin started slow and spread like wildfire. “I collect them. I have the most out of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“And you get these by being a good person or something?” I asked, squinting at her. “Like credits for socials?”