The Black Stars (17 page)

But the beast wasn't ready to give up.

The Fangborn spun, tearing up clods of dirt and grass with his claws. He leapt directly over Po, who had to duck to keep his head. The Fangborn took off for the tree line; electricity crackled around his body, scorching the grass around him.

“Don't let it escape!” Po said, clutching his chest where his robes were shredded.

The rhadjen took off as one, giving chase. The Fangborn was much faster under normal circumstances, Mason assumed, and even though it was running on all fours, it was weaving, slowed by their initial assault. They followed the Fangborn into the gloomy woods, taking care not to trip over the bulbous roots that rolled in and out of the forest floor like waves. Vines unfurled as before, but the rhadjen were moving too fast to get caught. The Fangborn's claws tore through the roots, peppering his pursuers with sharp wooden splinters. Mason and the others knew what was at stake: if the Fangborn escaped and happened across a student or even a teacher that was all alone …

Mason and his team chased the monster all the way back to the school. They lost it three times and had to split up, and Mason thought his lungs were going to catch fire, but none of them slowed. The Fangborn crossed into the school's clearing, and Mason put on a final burst of speed, willing his glove to make a whip like before. He swung it sideways, flicking his wrist, and it shot forward and curled around the Fangborn's trailing leg. Mason tugged as hard as he could, digging his heels into the grass, and the Fangborn tripped and rolled. The rhadjen converged around it, delivering more power with their gloves, until the Fangborn was twitching and jerking on his back, clawing at the air.

“Enough!” Mason shouted after another moment. The rhadjen stopped their attack. The air smelled acrid, like burnt plastic. The Fangborn's eyes rolled back in his head and then closed, but his breathing became slow and steady.

“At least we don't have to carry it the whole way,” Mason said.

Everyone looked at him.

Mason shrugged. “The Earth Space Command taught us to look on the bright side.”

“This was just one,” Risperdel said, her voice full of awe. “Does this mean they're already here? It has to.” She looked at each rhadjen, but they had no answers. “What does this
mean
?”

“Look,” Lore said. “The human was … Sorry.
Mason
was right, I mean. Look at the Fangborn's hands.”

Now that it wasn't moving and trying to kill them, it was clear the Fangborn had Rhadgast gloves underneath the skin.

“How could it
be
somebody? And who is it?” Risperdel said.

Po nudged it with the toe of his boot. The Fangborn twitched, and everyone took a step back.

Mason looked at the school: there was no commotion, no sign anyone was coming for them.

“So returning as heroes is out of the question,” Tom said. “If this is a rhadjen, we need to help him. But we need to do it quietly.”

“Absolutely,” Po said.

“No doubt,” Risperdel added.

Mason faced the group again. “I think we can turn him back to normal, but you'll have to trust me. Here's the plan.”

*   *   *

Five minutes later they had a hover-cart to transport the Fangborn. It took all of them to lift the creature onto the cart. They pushed it toward the school, Po and Lore running ahead to make sure the way was clear. They got the Fangborn into the school (Po did some smooth talking and told the two guards he saw a student entering a banned area), and Mason realized that this plan was either really smart or really stupid. If the Fangborn woke up, he was betting it would be the latter.

They guided the Fangborn into a supply closet.

“Now what?” Tom said. “This thing is going to wake up, and then we're toast.”

Mason found plastic sheeting rolled up in the back of the closet. “Help me with this,” he said. Risperdel and Lore were quick to cover the Fangborn in plastic, which auto-sealed a moment later. The Fangborn was now shrink-wrapped under opaque plastic. But it still looked a little too much like a giant monster hidden beneath a tarp.

“We need to change the shape,” Mason said. He looked around the closet for something to shove under the plastic, but everything was too large.

Tom looked at each of them. “How … how do you expect we do that?”

“You're not going to like it,” Mason said.

Tom threw his hands up. “No! Nope. Not going to happen.”

“Not it,” Lore said, smirking.

“Not it!” Risperdel followed with quickly.

“Also not it,” Mason said.

Tom swallowed. Then he lifted up the edge of the plastic and peered at the slumbering Fangborn within. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“We're running out of time,” Mason said. “It's going to wake up.”

“Next time, you're cuddling with the monster, okay?”

“Deal,” Mason said, though he was pretty sure this would be the only time.

Tom crawled under the tarp and nestled into the space between the Fangborn's legs and head. When they resealed the plastic, it looked like a bulky shape underneath, not something with arms and legs.

“It's going to get really hard to breathe pretty soon,” Tom said, his voice muffled by the cover.

“You'll be under there for a few minutes, tops,” Mason said. They pushed the cart out of the supply closet.

“This thing really smells…” Tom said after a moment. “Like its breathing smells. Or maybe it's just his face.”

“Shhh,” Mason said. “You're supposed to be an innocuous collection of inanimate objects. Or something like that.”

They rounded the first corner toward the stairwells that would eventually lead to his mother and what he hoped would be a safe place to store the Fangborn until the cure was finished.

But right then an alarm went off. Mason froze, and Tom shifted under the plastic. The Fangborn stirred as the alarm—an extremely loud
WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP
—got even louder.

They were caught.

 

Chapter Twenty-four

 

Students began to fill the hallways, all of them heading for an exit. And Mason was right in the middle of everyone, with a stolen hover-cart that contained his best friend and a monster.

“Got any more bright ideas?” Lore said, flicking her double braid over her shoulder.

“Um…” Mason replied.

They stood there while the students flowed around them, a few giving the cart cursory looks. Mason hoped the hallway would clear again, and they'd be able to move forward and ignore the alarm.

“I'll check it out,” Po said, sprinting ahead.

“What is that?” Mason whispered to Risperdel. “Is that a fire alarm?”

Risperdel's face was flushed violet. “Uh, no. I've never heard it before.”

The hallway cleared out some, and Mason thought they were home free.

But then Grubare strolled around the corner.

Mason froze, then forced himself to keep pushing the cart forward. “Play it cool,” Mason said.

“What does that mean?” Lore hissed, exasperated. “Is that like a human saying?”

“It means
act casual
. Pretend we're supposed to be here.”

“We are supposed to be here,” Risperdel said, sounding genuinely confused.

Grubare's eyes narrowed when he spotted Mason and his team. He started walking toward them. The gromsh galloped along at his heels.

“Stark,” he said. “What's under the plastic?”

“I'm not sure,” Mason said, not slowing down. “Broxnar asked for us to bring it to him.”

“Hold it!” Grubare said. Mason stopped. The cart hovered in place. Risperdel and Lore were trying to figure out what to do with their hands. Down the hallway, Po rounded the corner and pulled up short.

“Show me what's under the tarp,” Grubare said.

The gromsh plucked at the corner of the plastic with one paw, sniffing the air delicately, eyes closed. Then all four eyes snapped open, and it took a slow step backward, uttering a series of low chirps.
Stupid monkey thing!
Mason thought.

“Sir, we were asked not to unseal it,” Mason replied. “You'll have to get permission from Broxnar.”

Grubare's lip pulled back in a sneer. He looked down at the gromsh, which retreated behind the safety of Grubare's robes the way a frightened child would. “
Permission.
Interesting. A rhadjen saying I require permission. Do you know the punishment for disobeying a direct order from an instructor?”

“No,” Mason said.

“A day in detention,” Risperdel said.

“That's correct. You would know, Risperdel.” Grubare turned his dark gaze onto Mason again. “You have one more second to change your mind, Stark. Or you'll be coming with me to visit Master Zin.”

“Sir, what's the alarm for?” Risperdel said quickly. “Are we supposed to go somewhere?”

Grubare gave Mason more than one second to choose, but Mason didn't point that out. “It means two more students have gone missing. Their robes were found shredded.” He said this in a tone one would use to describe the weather. Mason wondered how the warmth had been driven out of Grubare's heart, and if there had ever been any there to begin with. Mason couldn't be sure, but he still suspected that Grubare kept him after class so Juneful and his friends could get Mason alone.

Without warning, Grubare moved for the corner of the cart, his slender fingers reaching for the edge. Mason didn't know what to do. He couldn't attack Grubare. And he had no idea how the surly instructor would react upon seeing a human nestled in the arms of a Fangborn. Maybe he'd drop dead from shock.

“What's going on?” The voice came from the left. Mason turned, and his heart dropped further into his stomach. It was Broxnar.

Grubare straightened. “Ah, Brox. These students were just on their way to deliver this cart of … whatever it is they're delivering. I was curious about what they are transporting. It must be very important for them to ignore the alarm.”

This was it; they were done for.

“Yes, that's right,” Broxnar said.

Mason fought hard to keep the surprise off his face. He made eye contact with Grubare, whose nose was now scrunched up. Mason had to close his mouth.

“It is?” Grubare said.

“Yes, thank you for checking on them.” Broxnar nodded to Mason. “You may proceed, young rhadjen.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mason said. They each grabbed a part of the cart and began to push it forward.

“Wait—” Grubare began, holding up a finger. A foot off the ground, the gromsh was doing the same thing, mimicking Grubare. Mason swallowed the urge to laugh.

“Now now, Grubare, they have to deliver that, and
then
make it back to the Inner Chamber in time for the assembly.”

Mason risked a final look over his shoulder: Grubare's eyes were on him. He was still suspicious, so much so that Mason half expected him to give chase at any moment. But Broxnar put a large arm around Grubare's shoulders and began to walk him away toward the Inner Chamber. The gromsh followed, the eye in the back of its head never leaving the cart.

Mason didn't know why Broxnar would lie for them, but he was incredibly grateful.

“Why would he do that?” Risperdel said, echoing Mason's thoughts. They were hurrying down the hallway, side by side. “That gromsh is going to be the end of us.”

“Maybe he has a soft spot for humans,” Lore said.

“Or finds us a little too fascinating,” Tom said. His voice was shaky. “How much longer?”

“Not much,” Mason said. “Can you breathe?”

“No,” Tom replied. “I mean, I can, but I don't want to.”

Po caught up to them as they neared the stairs that would lead them down to the secret lab.

Mason stopped walking. “Here's where we have to part ways. I'll tell you everything later, but for now you have to trust me. There's no time, and I have to do the next part on my own.”

“
Excuse
me?” Lore said. “We just risked our butts helping you sneak a
Fangborn
—”

“Shhh!” Po said.

“Sorry, a Fangborn,” she said, much quieter, “into
our
school. You don't even belong here.”

“Mason and Tom earned their robes,” Po said. “They are Bloods, period.”

“Even so,” Lore said. “Not so long ago we were enemies, and now you just want us to trust you?”

Risperdel didn't seem to have a problem with it.

“Po?” Mason said.

Po looked at each of them in turn. “I say we trust them. On the condition he fills us in later. There's no time to argue anyway, like he said.”

“Done,” Mason said. He held his hand out to shake, but the others didn't seem to know what to do with it. After a second, Po made a fist for Mason to bump.