“Nonsense,” said Leonis, squeezing Scorio’s shoulder with punishing strength before dropping his hand. “A hiccup on our journey. One day, years down the road, we’ll look back at these misfortunes and laugh.”
“Yes,” said Lianshi, nodding firmly. “We will.”
“Yeah,” said Scorio softly, unconvinced.
Leonis glanced around the basilica. “Well, it’s time we got moving. How about some training? We could claim a sparring circle in one of the basement levels and raise a sweat.”
“I think we’d be better off focusing on our meditation techniques,” said Lianshi. “We need to hit Emberling as quickly as possible, and I’ve yet to reach the limits of my ability to drink deep of mana.”
“You guys go ahead,” said Scorio, swinging his legs over the side of the bier to slide off. “I need to think.”
“Think?” Leonis frowned. “Perilous activity, coming from you. We shouldn’t let you out of our sight.”
Scorio laughed softly. “Right. But no, seriously. I need to figure this out. Just training, just meditating, that won’t set me on the path to beating Jova Spike. I need to come up with something completely new.”
“All right.” Lianshi considered him worriedly. “At least promise not to do anything stupid without checking in with us first?”
“Can’t promise that,” he said ruefully.
“And you should know better than to ask,” said Leonis. “Scorio is delightfully pig-headed when it comes to reckless courses of action. Haven’t you realized that yet?”
Lianshi scowled. “I won’t have him killing himself right after what I said. That would be cruel and unfair.”
Scorio raised both hands and laughed. “I’ve no intention of killing myself! Easy, relax. I’m just… going to go for a walk. To think things through. With a little luck, I’ll have a plan in place for tomorrow’s Eighthday, and I’ll tell it to you both over a delicious meal at some restaurant.”
“Fine,” said Lianshi, not sounding pleased at all. “At least promise to keep your suicidal behavior to a minimum.”
“Lianshi,” groaned Leonis. “Are you even listening to yourself?”
“I will.” He leaned in to give her a hug, then punched Leonis in the shoulder. “You guys go train. At the speed I’ll be progressing, you’ll be hard-pressed to keep up.”
“Right,” said Leonis, falling in with him and Lianshi as they began to make their way out from between the biers. “Because you’re a model of power and progress thus far.”
“You’ll see,” said Scorio. “I aim to hit Emberling before my next fight.”
“Means you’ve got a week,” said Leonis.
“You can do it,” said Lianshi.
“One way to find out,” said Scorio, and he turned left as they passed through the archway, just as his friends turned right, and left them behind.
Chapter 56
The following week passed in a daze. Scorio went through the motions. Ran at a slow jog, letting everyone lap him. Ate mechanically. Sparred with just enough proficiency to keep Feng from calling him out. During his classes he sat at the back, sunk deep in his seat, staring at the instructors but not hearing a thing.
Leonis and Lianshi were dogged in staying by his side. They tried different tactics: respecting his silence and trying to cheer him up indirectly; engaging in serious conversation about his predicament, brainstorming his best options; or just being silent and letting him know they were there. Eventually, they started giving him space, keeping close enough that he knew they were there, but no longer trying to jolt him out of his deep reverie.
And he was grateful. He just had trouble expressing it. He had trouble doing much of anything beyond drifting from one obligation to the next. House Chimera sent him a summons to come and sign his official paperwork, and he begged off, sending one excuse after another till he knew he was coming dangerously close to upsetting them. The other students eyed him warily, unable to understand why he was so morose when to all appearances he’d scored an incredible victory.
He lay awake late at night in his small room, fingers interlaced under his head, staring up into the darkness. Replayed his choices since he’d awoken in the Gauntlet, tried to tease out the moments where he could have shifted his fate with a different decision.
But each time it came down to his willingness to work for Dola. He spun up a hundred different excuses. He’d been hungry, alone, desperate, and broke. He’d had no friends, no means of providing for himself, and any misstep would have seen him brought to Praximar’s attention and consequent death.
But did desperation justify his theft? Had he truly been without options? Or had he been all too glad to strike back at the world that had treated him unfairly, been all too willing to give vent to his fury and bitterness?
In those long, dark hours of the night, he wrestled with his conscience. What should he do? At times he felt like simply giving up. Letting go of his determination to accumulate power, to discover the truth, to fight the injustices that had plagued him so. To fade away, drift into the shadows, and cease to be a player in the great game. But then he’d envision Praximar’s gloating face, his slight, smug smile, and sparks of fury would light up once more in his core.
Naomi didn’t show. Scorio kept watching for her, keeping an eye on the shadows, waiting, half-hoping, that she’d emerge at any moment with a caustic scowl on her face, ready to return and be part of their team, having changed her mind about the Academy and the ruins. But she never did.
It was Fifthday when he found himself standing outside the Chimera suite. He blinked, looked around. He’d walked there in a fugue, not knowing what he was doing till he’d seen the crest emblazoned upon the double doors.
What was he doing there? He’d miss lunch. He was wasting his time. He couldn’t sign the documents, for what was the point? To score a couple of pills before Praximar wrought his revenge?
Footsteps behind him. Scorio startled, turned, and saw Recruiter Gelegos walking up to him, a partially unrolled scroll in his hands, lips turned into a severe frown as he studied its contents.
Scorio froze, wishing he could step away, wondering if the recruiter were sufficiently distracted for him to do so, but then the man glanced up, the light flashing across his spectacles, and saw him.
“Ah! Our missing recruit! Your odd reluctance has been driving Selena mad.” He stopped before Scorio, smiling affably. “She’s convinced you’re being recruited by House Kraken behind our back. It’s taken all my efforts to keep her from hunting you down and confronting you.”
“I—thank you.” Scorio felt dull and stupid before Gelegos’s probing stare. Why had he come? “I’m, ah, not being recruited by anyone else.”
“So I thought. Come, no need to talk outside in the hallway.” And Gelegos stepped past him to open the door and disappear inside.
Scorio stared down the hallway, longing to just run, but then sighed and followed the man inside.
Gelegos led him across the expansive room, and for a moment Scorio thought they were heading back to the same conference chamber. Instead, the recruiter turned to the left at the last moment and entered a secluded spot, ringed on all sides by towering ferns and artfully arranged partitions of painted silk.
“Here we are,” said Gelegos, falling back gratefully onto a cushioned chair and propping his feet up on the round, central table. “Take a seat, Scorio. You look exhausted. A drink?”
“No, thank you.” Scorio sat on the edge of a stool and interlaced his fingers tightly.
Gelegos tilted his head to one side as he considered him. “Problems, hmm? Second thoughts? A fear, perhaps, that House Chimera will use you poorly, harness you to its needs, and then discard you if you object?”
“I—no. That’s not it at all.” Scorio stared down at his hands. “I’m still greatly honored by the offer. You know best of all what a wreck my Heart is. House Chimera’s offer was the lifeline I was praying for.”