Iron Inheritance (14 page)

“Oorah!” someone yelled in the back. Many others echoed the call.

I grinned, my heart thumping. Grandpa used to say that to me when he tucked me in at night, a sly smile on his face.

“Today, we move everyone up a level. If you haven’t already, you will learn to manifest your essence as weapons. Your talents
can
do more; we
need
them to do more.”

No one said a word, but my mind lit up with the blue of Grandpa’s sword, of Nate’s green whip.

“This is normally left to third year students or simply for Patrons to find in the course of their life, but with the threat looming, we can’t afford to wait any longer.”

I narrowed my eyes. The threat? Did she know something more about Kovac? His followers? There was obviously still something coming.

And I’ll be ready for it this time.

“You will run this course today.” She slapped her hand on the wall. “With the added stressor of enemy assailants stationed at random points with weapons in hand.”

Several pairs of heavy boots marched out, the sound bouncing off the hard, concrete floor. Each person was clad in brown, leather armor. Duke, Cheryl—the girl Duke had tried to tell me to look more like in my first class—and another guy with a tornado swirl of black hair and eyeliner stopped in front of the wall and looked straight ahead.

“Think of them as your motivators.” Denisov snapped her fingers.

The three soldiers stuck out their hands in front of them. Almost instantly, beams of light flashed to life in their tensed grips. Duke and Cheryl’s were almost identical golden spears, whereas Mr. Eyeliner held a purple, curved Katana blade.

My eyes lit up, and my pulse quickened. I could almost feel the power radiating off them.

“A true spiritual weapon is variable—active on either plane of existence.” Denisov extended her hand for Duke to turn to Cheryl, her blond hair tied in a tight ponytail.

“Is that his sister?” I looked at the similar golden spears. They were almost see-through, yet their points looked razor sharp.

Josh shook his head. “Girlfriend. Looks like it’s meant to be, huh?” He grinned.

I smiled, my mind washed in images of what Josh’s weapon was…what mine would be.

“The spiritual weapon, as part of your essence, is controlled by your mind. If you don’t wish it to harm someone, it won’t.”

Duke swung his spear around so it pointed at Cheryl and then stabbed it through her stomach.

I gasped and stuck out my hand to stop him.

Cheryl seemed to find it hilarious, laughing like she was being tickled.

I dropped my hand to my side and caught my breath. As I looked to the side, it seemed that many other people had reacted the same way.

Denisov stood off to the side with her back to the action, observing all of our expressions with a wry smile. “However, at its most focused and powerful, a spiritual weapon can cut through soul and body.
That
is what makes it powerful. Since I think Mr. Harding would like Ms. Dearborne’s soul to remain intact—”

Duke nodded politely, and Cheryl curtsied.

“Today, we’ll focus on the body.”

“Not too much.” Cheryl narrowed her eyes.

Duke’s dimples pressed into his cheeks, and he flicked the spear around behind her so fast that it left a streak of gold in the air.

The crowd gasped and pointed at the ground where a small pile of blond hairs lay. Several people applauded, but Denisov silenced them with a glance.

“This is not a game, and these are not toys. They are to defend, and for today, to help
persuade
you that essence is for more than making you all warm and fuzzy inside.” Her eyes scanned the crowd without her head turning. “With the added stressors of an actual threat, it’s my hope that a good few of you will produce a talent or at least part of a weapon by the end of the day.” Her eyes stopped and locked on me. “I’ve also informed Nurse Wright that amputation is a possibility today, though we all know she can get busy. Line up!”

The whole room forgot its military precision and jostled together in a lopsided line in front of the first obstacle. From this vantage point, we couldn’t see anything that would happen beyond the wall. The first person in line would have the same chance as the rest of us.

Josh stood in front of me, his shoulder blades even with my chin. I contemplated poking him in the back and talking to him, striking up a conversation like Ria could with any guy, but the closer my hand got, the more I hesitated.

Denisov blew a whistle, and the first person in line jumped halfway up the wall. Only five more people in front of us.

Josh glanced back at me. “How you doing?”

I swung my hand up like I was fixing my hair and nodded. “Peachy.”

He smirked. “Essence weapons are really useful. Great with demons, ghosts, zombies—”

“Zombies?” My eyes widened.

Another whistle.

He laughed, his chest a deep drum. “Kidding. You know that angels gave humans the design for the earliest weapons? Probably why we can create them with essence so easily.”

I rubbed my hands on my pants. “But what if I don’t even know what my talent is? How am I supposed to create a weapon if I don’t know the first thing about any of this?”

Another whistle.

“Talents show themselves when you’re least expecting it—mostly when you’re stressed.” Josh’s blue eyes stared down into mine softly. “You shouldn’t worry.”

If all it takes is stress, then why haven’t I shown something already?

Whistle.

“Excuse me a moment,” Josh said as he crouched down in front of the fifteen-foot wall, next in line.

Denisov’s whistle shrieked a few seconds later, and Josh jumped eight feet into the air. His hands caught two handholds near the top. A second later, he was gone, and I was left with the sounds of his progress.

I closed my eyes and tried to tune out the din of Miranda and Freddy’s jittery conversation behind me.

A pluck of metal wire.

The
thunk
of wood on wood.

A splash of water.

The whistle.

The tension in my limbs released all at once and shot me forward, my fingernails digging into the wood behind each handhold. I scrambled to the top and swung my whole body over without hesitation about what was on the other side.

The ground came quicker than I thought. My knees compressed and rolled me forward onto my shoulder to take the hit.

I came up on one knee and caught my breath. In front of me, a narrow path of tires led to a low, horizontal net of barbed wire. Beyond that, another wooden wall obstructed the view.

I pattered through the tires easily, building up enough momentum to slide halfway through the belly crawl area headfirst, but I didn’t stop. I struck out my elbows and pulled my body forward.

Then a patch of barbs pressed into my back as someone jumped on the wire.

I screamed and tried to flatten myself out, but it was no use.

A laugh echoed above me, and a flash of purple sliced through the taught wire. It sprang off my back, and I was able to get to my knees. Mr. Eyeliner looked down at me expectantly.

A stream of adrenaline expanded my veins to twice their normal size, but my head maintained control. This was all to get me to show a talent, to make a weapon. The pain had a purpose.

I blinked, and a rush of wind announced Mr. Eyeliner’s departure. I got up, stepped around the remaining wire, and climbed the next wall as drops of blood trickled down my back. At the top, I looked to the right and saw Nate’s red hair and khaki shirt bobbing closer to the obstacle course.

I jumped down to the next section and found a shallow pool with a series of oddly positioned posts sticking out of the surface. I managed to find the first post and spring myself toward a larger one about four feet away.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose in anticipation. Someone was watching me just like before. Would it be Duke or Cheryl? What would they do in this obstacle, drown me?

I looked down at the water. Maybe three feet deep, at best.

I hopped to another post. On the far side of the pool, ropes hung above a darker blue section. That was my goal.

My shoes squeaked on the surface of the next post.

My heels thumped into the one after that.

I was almost in the center now. My whole body was a piano wire ready to snap.

A tingle ran up my spine as she came, slower than my other opponent. I turned in time to see Cheryl’s body sail through the air with her spear pointed straight at me.

I dodged to the left at the last moment, and the spear stabbed down into the water. A flash of gold rippled through it like a wave.

My heart thumped wildly, but I didn’t feel any different. How would I even know what a talent
felt
like?

I sprang to a post several feet away and crouched for her next attack.

Cheryl grinned at the challenge and turned as if she was going to go around for a better position. Then she swung her arm forward and threw her spear straight at me.

I sucked in a breath and ducked to the left, the point of the spear grazing my shoulder.

It hurt more than it should have. Pain ignited something in me that sent the whole world ablaze. I convulsed, and my eyelids sprang apart as the whole room lit on fire with light.

The wood glowed with a faint, sparkling brown that doubled my vision. I swiped my hand through the outer layer and didn’t hit solid wood for another inch. The whole room glowed like this—an ethereal double-take of northern lights undulating, surrounding everything. Even my own skin burned with light blue flames.

I waited too long, and a foot collided with my back, catapulting me into the water.

I sucked in breaths out of rhythm as I flailed my arms around to find a post, the lights and water blurring everything so much that nearly every grasp met only blank air.

When I finally looked up and realized I wasn’t drowning, a woman in gold stood above me with her spear pulled back, sighted on my chest.

I recoiled until my back pressed into something solid, my senses overloaded. There was so much color, so much light. I could barely raise my arms.

The spear thrust forward, tiny golden waves modulating the air as it stabbed toward my heart.

I clenched my jaw as if that would do anything, as if that would save me from the pain I knew I needed to feel to see this world. I forced my eyes to stay open to the rainbow of colors that didn’t have a name, hoping the sight of them wouldn’t go away.

Then there was the crack of a whip.

A green strand of light curled around the spear and pulled it out of the air at the last second.

I blinked, and all the light was gone. Cheryl stood above me, her eyes, like mine, ablaze for the one who’d extinguished the light.

Nate stood to the side, his feet in the water, his arm stretched out like he was still holding on to something.

I couldn’t see what.

My pulse punched the side of my throat as I stood, and water poured off my yoga pants and blue shirt—the same color as the essence I’d seen around my body for that split second. I splashed the water aside as I made my way for him, my eyes burning anger so hot that my upper lip curled into a snarl. I’d been so close. I finally saw everything that they did, and he took it away.

I reached out to grab his arm like he had mine so many times, but Denisov beat me to it.

“What do you think you’re doing, Warder?” She practically lifted him off the ground.

He didn’t blink, his body loose enough to take the change in elevation, his eyes set on me. “She’s not ready.”

I grabbed his other arm and pulled him toward me. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Denisov released him, her narrow features razor sharp as she surveyed him again and turned away without another word.

“Eve, I—” Nate began, not even attempting to free his arm from my grip.

I marched him across the orange track without releasing his arm, my fingernails digging into his bicep past the point when any normal person would have cried out in pain.

But he wasn’t normal. He was a Guardian. He’d been watching me my whole life without me even knowing it. He’d lied to me to keep me from this place, from who I was, and now he was trying to do the same thing right at the moment when I was finally able to see the world for what it truly was. There was so much more to see.

I kicked the hallway doors open and threw him ahead of me. “What gives you the right?” I growled, still advancing as his back hit the wall. His khaki shirt matched the aging poster behind him. “I saw it. For the first time, I saw what they’ve all been talking about. What you and Grandpa have seen all along.” I held up my hand, willing the blue flame to come back into my field of vision, my mind second guessing whether it was ever there at all.

Nate looked at my hand, his eyes half closed under a weight of sadness. “I know.”

I stepped back, betrayal stretching disgust across my face. “You know? Then why—”

He tilted his head back, and the freckles on his cheeks unified as the skin underneath reddened. “Spiritual weapons force what should be natural. You can’t rush this process. I tried to warn Denisov, but she wouldn’t listen. Right now, your body isn’t ready. I’m trying to protect you.”

I almost shook with anger. “And yet you couldn’t even protect the one person who really mattered,” I said, each word bitter. No tears came, but my eyes burned.

Nate clenched his jaw before he nodded, accepting the blame he’d assigned to himself all along. He turned and disappeared with a gust of wind that stung my cheek.

I breathed heavily, the tunnel quiet. I couldn’t go back in the arena. Too many eyes. Too many questions. The showers called my name, and after that, my bed.

Hours later, I lay there looking up at the ceiling, playing through the whole thing over and over again.

We’d had fights before. I was usually the one who stormed off.

But I’d never said anything that mean.

I sighed and pushed my head deeper into the pillow, a mixture of embarrassment and justification pumping through my veins at competing speeds.

I rolled over and looked at the clock. Ria would be back soon. I wasn’t ready to face her, to explain what had happened. The library didn’t sound particularly inviting for once, nor did seeing anyone, actually. Maybe I’d roam the tunnels beneath the school. Get lost, curl up in one of those out-of-the-way courtyards until sleep took me. Maybe now that I felt another hole in my gut, the dreams would stop, Kovac’s smiling face would fade, and my heart would cease to pump molten fury through my veins so often that it was becoming normal for me to feel like this.