Chương 26: Chapter 25

"From the stupid looks on all your faces, I take it this isn't normal." Cal questioned the trio of boys staring at the same object he was.

"Ferg is a lot of things, but normal never was one of them," Rolland supplied, the trademark smile missing for the moment.

"No one who reached heights such as he may be classified as normal." Marcus made a valid point. The higher up the power ladder you went, the more crazies you ran into. There was a loud clang that reverberated from what held their attention. In the center of the worn-down training grounds was a conspicuously large rectangular object covered with a ratty-grey tarp. It did not take a genius to figure out what it contained.

"Weird that he's late." Cal flopped to the ground, legs stretched out. His hands propped himself up from behind. The spear lay discarded beside him.

"Doesn't he usually sleep here?"

"Less than usual. This place used to be his favorite spot. I suspect being made to run a class here has dampened the appeal," Rolland said rather shamelessly. Cal wouldn't be surprised if the man had a part to play in the venue selection.

"What's with you, Benny?" Cal asked the stone-faced man, who hadn't broken eye contact since his arrival.

"If I know my Benny, he's wondering if whatever's under there is edible." Rolland slapped the focused man's back. Benjamin blinked at the contact and looked around. Only now, realizing the center of attention had shifted to him. It didn't seem to bother him as he wordlessly resumed his focus.

"Eh, they're almost always edible. That includes the poisonous ones if you know where to cut them. The tricky part is whether you want to eat them. There are some nasty-looking ones out there." Cal mentally retched at the memory of some. Marcus raised a well-manicured eyebrow in his direction.

"How many have you fought?"

"Just a couple." Of thousand. Belatedly, he realized that wasn't a great response.

"But I lived on the frontier; people used to bring some back all the time." Cal didn't have an accurate tally. In the early years, when he was still trying to escape the cabin, he'd kept count. It had been a measure of his progress, something to prove he hadn't been wasting his time. Nowadays, even if he tried, it would be an exercise in futility. His monthly 'hunts' brought in a good number, but it was the waves where he racked up the real body count. Roughly twice a year he was called in to squash one.

They each had hundreds to potentially thousands of the things. He could never kill them all before they dispersed, but he always left satisfied. Thinking about it, one should be coming up soon. He wondered how they'd decide to deal with it. They'd probably send one of the others, and he found himself hoping it would be Oracle. The man had never admitted it, but Cal got the sense that it was a part of the job he really did not enjoy. Benjamin's voice brought him to the present.

"The meat is valuable; it would be wasteful to leave it. Regardless of its appearance." Cal didn't think he'd sing the same tune if he'd seen everything the Waste had to offer. Another thump sounded, from a different source this time. Ferguson landed, kicking up a cloud of dust. He walked out of it, staggering less than customary. He wore a variation of his usual outfit, the standout being the bag tied to his waist.

"You're all here, good." He grabbed the bag, reaching in and throwing a pair of objects at each of them.

"Put these on." Cal caught his pair, immediately noting their stickiness. They were bracelets? His magic brushed against it. Not a fashion statement.

"Presenting cuffs to your future regent?" Rolland held his pair up, and Cal now noticed how the pair would fit together. The chain meant to connect them was missing.

"My, how bold you've gotten."

"Shut your trap and wear them." Ferguson wasn't fazed by Rolland's words.

"I had them modified a bit. They'll still stop any of ya manifestations, but should also let your shell work."

"What are they," Marcus said, pausing as he held it at arm's length with the tips of his fingers, "coated with?"

"Don't worry about that. Just a little something to make our beasty extra friendly," Ferguson walked over and patted the tarp. Earning a few thuds in return. Cal inspected them. Suppression cuffs. They, on paper, made it impossible to use magic outside your body. The good ones even made internal magic troublesome to control. He clipped them on without hesitation. True to his word, Cal found no interference when forming a shell.

He tried doing a simple manifestation, and the magic slipped from his fingers, dissipating without fanfare. It was a familiar sensation; he'd gone through a phase where he'd regularly wear multiple sets. Albert had gently but firmly asked him to knock it off. Something about the optics of a child walking around covered in shackles being unideal. He'd been the first to don them. Benjamin followed, and Rolland shortly after him. Marcus, with a great reluctance, wore them last.

"Are we meant to defeat this mystery beast relying on our augmentation and weapon skills alone?" Marcus questioned, his dissatisfaction from being made to adorn the cuffs apparent.

"You better not," Ferguson grumbled while scratching his back.

"No killing or hurting the thing. I got it on loan. See, I got an idea after watching the kid." Ferguson pointed at Cal.

"You brats rely too much on fancy tricks. In here that may get a pass, but when you're out in the world, you can't be wasting your reserves taking every hit. You need to learn how to dodge, as your life depends on it." Ferguson gripped the tarp, yanking it off. Revealing the glowing box.

"Cause right now, I ain't as fast as I used to be." He hopped onto the cage, kicked open the latch, and a solid wall of metal collapsed forward. The glowing dimmed before snuffing out entirely. Signaling the deactivation of any wards.

"So it just well might." A stinger streaked through the air, extending all the way to the prince, who took rapid steps back and avoided the attack. It retracted, and the bulk of the creature clattered out. Aside from having too many legs and mandibles, it was a scorpion in appearance. Sand dripped from its carapace, indicating what type of magic it used. Its eyes darted around, and it skittered erratically. Cal supposed it was having trouble deciding which of them to make a meal out of.

It wasn't a runt like those he saw for the joust earlier. It was larger than a minivan, and while size did not directly correlate to strength, Cal could feel the thing wasn't weak. A piercing screech erupted. Without their shells, their eardrums would have easily ruptured. Others shifted their stances, growing more alert. Sound magic as well? Irksome. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Its front claws slammed against the ground, and a storm of sand materialized. Covering the arena in short order. Another screech resounded; it differed from the other in that the magic was directed to a single focal point. Cal could feel the ground rumble as the beast advanced with more speed than something that large ought to possess. He waited for the telltale sounds of battle or frantic evasion to meet his ears. Satisfied the beast's attention was elsewhere, Cal languidly rose.

His arm moved to shield his face from the sand as he moved at a sedate pace. He hadn't stayed seated during that entire exchange out of arrogance. Beasts had a variety; well, calling them personalities would be a stretch. Levels of aggression fit better. The point was that some would attack the weakest-looking thing around while others would target the largest threats and move down from there. It was difficult to predict which pattern a given beast would follow.

Cal had gambled in this case, relying on his instincts again and betting this beast would be more interested in the ones taking combat stances and cycling their magic. He made his way into the now-vacated cage. The three walls provided some cover from the outside, so he lowered his arm. He shook himself off, trying to dislodge all the sand that had accumulated on him. While his shell would have prevented this, it also could have attracted the beast's ire.

Dealing with sand seemed easier than a beast trying to gut you. He removed his blazer, wringing it out to get more of the sand out. In hindsight, he should have taken the risk. Other articles of clothing followed; he wasn't worried about being interrupted. Beasts weren't stupid. Well, they weren't ALL stupid. Odds were, the cage it had been trapped in for who knows how long would be the last place it wanted to be, despite Cal's cuffs being coated in this mystery goop.

The shouts and clashes from outdoors provided a relaxing backdrop as he finished cleaning out the last of his belongings. As best he could, that is. He settled down, leaning against one of the walls. —"I'm finding it difficult to avoid holding the slightest amount of resentment towards you right now." Rolland's voice carried over the divider.

"I agree with His Highness."

"I concur." Benjamin and Marcus's responses overlapped, joining Rolland's in displaying their irritation. His classmates were not enthused to find out Cal had ridden out the sandstorm and accompanying angry beast in the relative comfort of the cage.

"Don't blame me," Cal replied while adjusting the knob, the shower's water turning hotter.

"He never said we had to stick around and get whaled on."

"Be that as it may." From his tone, Cal could surmise Marcus was not convinced.

"The object of today's lesson was to better our skills in evasion." The group found themselves using the showers adjacent to the locker room. Cal hadn't been aware of their existence. He was thankful all the same, as it was far more effective than shaking out his clothes.

"Are you sure you're not missing the forest for the trees? The goal was to not get hit; I did that fine with minimal effort." Cal doubted his solution was what Ferguson had in mind. Even so, these guys seemed to respect the man more than they ought to. Cal figured he could pull the wool over their eyes and convince them there was some greater lesson here.

"Which is why the greater share of my resentment points inward; it's shameful for a future ruler to be narrow-minded." Hook, line, and sinker.

"Do not be too hard on yourself, your Highness; had we been allowed to butcher the creature, it would have proved no opponent." Cal could hear the soft sigh that came from Rolland's stall.

"In the future, we shall face many challenges. I can not predict what they may be. However, we will inevitably find ourselves facing unanticipated restrictions. I fear the mistakes of today may be replicated. Where we believe there may be one course of action when in fact a better path lay mere steps away." Tunnel vision could be a bitch like that. Cal had found himself guilty of that more often than not in the past. It was easy to see every problem as a nail when you had the mother of all hammers.

After finishing up in the shower, Cal redressed himself and made his way back to the field. There was a half-collapsed tunnel on the other side that he'd taken to using for his comings and goings. He was less likely to be seen using a back exit.

"A moment of your time," Marcus stopped him. He hadn't buttoned his coat yet, and his tie hung loose. Water dripped from his hair.

"I have a proposal for you."

"Go ahead," Cal said after a few moments, wondering what it was that couldn't seem to wait.

"You still wish to learn the art of spearmanship, yes?" Cal gave a slow nod.

"Then an arrangement can be made. I shall impart to you the essence of spearcraft, and in return, you will guide me in your brand of evasion." The request caught Cal by surprise. He'd never anticipated Marcus reaching out to him instead.

"Sounds good to me," Cal replied, not willing to pass up the opportunity.

"Let's swap numbers, and we can plan from there. I'm sure we're both pretty busy." Cal's schedule was mostly open outside of classes, but saying that would make him look desperate. Soon enough, Cal had a new contact on his phone and was happily sneaking away from the training grounds. Spy stuff was turning out easier than he thought. — Cal found it chucklesome how quickly the campus reverted to its normal behavior.

Like a switch had been flicked, everyone went back to their civilized state and pretended last week hadn't happened. Added to the unexpected success with Marcus and taco not-Tuesday, Cal's day had been going well. Ever since the revelation of the tunnels, he'd been scoping out for more passageways. Rather than be caught exploring them from the inside, he opted for checking them out above ground. Using the example he knew about, he grew better at recognizing them and formed a new sort of habit.

Periodically, he would send a tiny pulse of magic through the ground underneath his way to check for any abnormalities. This was the type of thing the Spirit could help with, but he didn't want to put his eggs all in one basket. He'd been on the way to his economics class when he'd noticed one and stopped to document it in his notebook. Or he was before being interrupted. The bench he'd chosen wasn't on a heavily trafficked path, but it did see some use.

Already he could see some students start to slow, sensing something was off and buying time for themselves to observe.

"You wanna say that again?" Cal finished typing into his phone and looked up.

"I wasn't paying attention." He had; he just thought it was funny to make the guy repeat himself.

"Very well." Petro addressed him with a poorly faked smile.

"I was asking if you had given any further consideration to a partnership between us." Partnership, what an interesting word. Not one he'd used before either.

"Can't say I have." Cal flippantly replied.

"Regrettable." Petro didn't show anger on the surface, perhaps expecting it.

"I fear you leave me with no alternative then." The man straightened his back and took a deep breath.

"I Petro Lucerna do hereby formally challenge Callum Ardere to an Academy sanctioned duel. Do you accept?" Huh, so it'd finally happened. Cal wasn't counting the bite-sized prince's challenge. Part of him, admittedly a large part, wanted to accept and have a good time at it. Unfortunately, his rational side was being a killjoy and saying it wasn't worth the attention.

"Pass." Cal got up, ready to head to class.

"It's well known what state the once vaunted House Ardere is in." Petro raised his voice, allowing all passersby to hear him.

"To think they are now such a penurious house that they allow spineless bastards to fill their ranks."

"I need my House's Heir's permission to fight. My hands are tied." Cal shrugged, displaying his helplessness in the matter. He could see some students nodding at his words, accepting his reasoning.

"Hiding behind that sister of yours?" Petro crossed his arms, his tone mocking.

"I suppose it's not a surprise given your parentage; cowardice runs strong in you." That dig would probably hurt a lot more if he had a single clue as to what he was talking about. Or if he were actually related to the family.

"You feeling okay, buddy?" Cal spoke in a patronizing fashion.

"Haven't had too much to drink again, have you? Did the stains ever come out from the last time you made a mess of yourself?" The man's lips tightened; however, he didn't retort right away. Probably because he sensed the same thing Cal did. Alice and Lily landed with little ceremony. That didn't dampen the peanut gallery's reaction, frantically typing and whispering among themselves. These girls were undeniably popular.

"Petro." Alice spoke as if addressing a pile of dung on the floor.

"Harassing a member of my house directly? Does House Lucerna forget its debts so readily?"

"Debts? I think you'll find none are owed. However, one may soon be. You see, in consideration of our familial ties, I was just assisting your house in rectifying an error. It seems you let in a craven miscreant."

"House Ardere's affairs are of no concern to you." Alice used a line from Claire's playbook.

"Au contraire, our lineages trace to the same origin. A stain on your line reflects poorly on ours. Or do you deny this bastard is a stain? In that case, will you allow him to prove it in the glory of battle?" The twitching of her hands was the only indication his words upset her.

"We haven't the time for this childishness. Some of us have studies to return to." Alice and Lily walked by him; Cal took the cue and fell in line between them. Petro was not satisfied with that conclusion and jeered from behind them.

"Truly astonishing that your father could pass such cowardice to both of his offspring. Was it only you two? I wonder how many commoners he had to bed before one granted him a bastard with the bare minimum amount of magic required to not be laughed out of the Academy." Cal could dimly hear gasps from the surroundings, dimly because he was focused on Alice, who'd stopped with her fist clenched. The ambient temperature rose, and he watched the ends of her hair closely.

"Alice," Lily said below a whisper, uncharacteristically serious. It broke the spell that had come over her, and she resumed her pace without a look back. They walked briskly, eyes forward, students shying away from their intensity. From the corner of his eye, Cal witnessed a single tear rolling down her cheek. It evaporated before anyone else took notice.