“Take care, Scorio!” Lianshi waved, and then the pair of them left the chamber and were gone.
Heart pounding, feeling elated, Scorio passed through the indicated door and moved toward the kitchens, quickly joining the rest of the foot traffic. He pulled his hood down low over his face, clasped the golden chit in his free hand, and had to restrain himself from whistling.
The next Eighthday couldn’t come quickly enough.
Chapter 29
Naomi was awaiting him at the end of First Clay when Scorio returned from his run. Breathing lightly, brow damp with perspiration, he climbed in through his window and saw her leaning against the far wall, one of his last dawn apples in hand.
“Hey,” he gasped, swinging his legs over the sill and remaining seated, smiling at her. “Good to see you.”
“Don’t get too excited,” she said, taking a large bite out of the apple. “I’m of two minds about being here at all.”
“Oh yeah?” He wiped his forearm across his forehead. “How’s that?”
She chewed slowly, methodically, as if punishing the apple for numerous transgressions. “I was up late last night deliberating our arrangement. What the point of it was. Where it was going.”
“And?”
She took another bite. “I didn’t figure out any clear answers.”
He winced sympathetically. “Sorry about that.”
“But. One thing I did determine is that I’ve… enjoyed our training sessions these past few months. They give structure to my day. Have become something of a habit.” She considered the apple, its golden flecks gleaming in the gloom. “Before, I was… existing. Numb. Each day a tedious obstacle to be overcome. I wasn’t progressing, but nor was I giving up. I was in harmony with my small world. If I didn’t think too hard about the future, the present could be an endless series of similar days. I was… fine.”
Scorio carefully remained still, not allowing his face to betray his opinion.
“But then you showed up.” She stared accusingly at him. “Dared me. Provoked me. And somehow, against all the odds, trapped me into this arrangement. And I started feeling anger again, amusement. Both in equal measure. You’re infuriating and foolish, and I sincerely doubt you’ll live another couple of months, but I decided—well.”
She frowned down at the apple.
“Decided what?”
“That I might as well enjoy the diversion while it’s here. All too soon you’ll be gone, and then I’ll have to reconcile myself to tedium once more as I figure out my next step.”
“Glad to be of service,” he said with a grin. “Should have been one of my titles: Scorio the Abhorred, Destroyer of Tedium.”
Despite herself, the corner of her lips curled up. “You are such a fool.”
“You might be right.” He hopped down off the sill and padded over to where his pail of water sat. Dipped a ragged hand towel into the water and then washed off his face and the nape of his neck. “But I’m a fool that’s defied the odds thus far. Even managed to charm the Nightmare Lady into tolerating his presence.”
She scowled at him. “You have not charmed me.”
“Beguiled? Mesmerized? The alternatives sound far worse.” He flinched as she pretended to throw the apple at him, then laughed and took up the pail to drink several large gulps from it.
“Whatever the term, I’ll continue your training. It’s reminding me of things I’d forgotten. Opened avenues of exploration for my own development.” She sighed and bit another chunk from the apple.
“Excellent, thank you.” He wiped the smile from his face and bowed to her. “I don’t take even a moment of your time for granted.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, searching for a hint of mockery, but found none.
“Well,” she said, pushing off the wall. “You’ve so much to learn that I’m curious as to how much I can cram inside your brain before you die.”
“I love your motivation,” said Scorio, straightening. “Speaking of which, I got access to my locker last night.”
“You did?” She blinked at him. “How?”
“My friends helped me out. But it was all for naught. The locker was empty but for a name carved deep into the back wall. I think it’s a message from my previous self, telling me to check in with the Great Soul in question.”
Despite herself, she seemed intrigued. “What was the name?”
“Jova Spike. Which is as good as a dead end.”
“Jova Spike,” murmured Naomi pensively. “She’s a… Charnel Duke, isn’t she? Out at LastRock?”
“Was. She died a year or so ago and was reborn in my cohort. And, apparently, will turn me over to the authorities the moment I say hello. So, a dead-end for now.”
“You have my condolences,” said Naomi, her tone equivocal. “But at least you tried.”
“True.” He considered telling her of his plans to reach the Academy with his friends’ help, then decided not to tempt her ire. “So. Same training schedule as before?”
“Let’s change things up.” She took a final bite from the apple and then tossed it into the small pile of trash. “You can ignite your Heart, well and good. But you’ll often find yourself in a place that’s low on mana, or perhaps there’s plenty but it’s so thin that you’d need hours to draw in enough. How do you ignite then?”
Scorio hesitated. “Keep elixirs on me?”
“No.” Her frown was perfunctory. “You saturate your Heart and keep it saturated so that if later you need to ignite, you can do so immediately.”
“Oh,” said Scorio nodding. Then his face fell. “Oh.”
“Sit. Draw as much Coal into your Heart as you can.”
He dropped to a cross-legged position and did as he was bid; visualized his Heart, and then swept his will through the thin mana that suffused the room.
“Good. Now, holding the mana tight within your Heart, stand up.”
Scorio frowned and carefully, slowly, rose to his feet. It felt like trying to rise while balancing a glass of water atop a large sphere that he held in his palm. The mana within his Heart sloshed from side to side, seeping out here and there, but finally, he managed.
“There!” He focused on her, his smile immediate. “Did it!”
Naomi stepped forward and shoved him on the chest.
Scorio tripped backward, fought to regain his balance, and as he did the mana poured out of his Heart.
“Not as easy as it looks, is it?” asked Naomi.
“But when I was fighting that lobster monster—”
“Kitursk.”
“—I managed to draw mana into my Heart while running away from it. How come?”
“You weren’t trying to hold the mana in your Heart. You drew it in and ignited immediately. The act of saturating your Heart is like inhaling; anyone can do it under almost any condition. But holding the mana is like holding your breath; a babe can’t do so for more than a second or two, while a trained warrior can go minutes. As a Great Soul, you’ll train and improve until you can go days.”
“Days?” Scorio tried not to feel discouraged. “Very well. Again?”
“Yes. But pushing you is unfair. You need to learn to crawl before I start beating you about the neck and shoulders with a stick.”
“Beating—?”
“So first you’ll practice rising to your feet and walking from one end of the room to the other. When you can cross the room four times without losing a drop, we’ll make it a little more challenging.”
“Got it.” Scorio nodded decisively and dropped to the ground once more. “You want to meet up later when I’ve mastered it?”
“Mastered it?” She smiled in dark amusement. “Oh, no, I’m going to sit here and watch. Wouldn’t want to miss your moment of imminent ‘mastery’ for the world.”
Scorio snorted, closed his eyes, and got to work.
It was surprisingly difficult. The effort wasn’t one of will, but of balance. His Heart, which had always seemed so stable within its void, suddenly felt like a precarious vessel; the slightest distraction on his part, the merest loss of focus caused its hermetic walls to weaken and for mana to pour forth.