Taft got out of bed and stretched his arms. He may not need to sleep to switch bodies anymore, but he was still stiff when he awakened.
As he stood, he moved his knees up and down to get them awake. A couple of cracking sounds came from them as he moved. His cold feet were on the stone, and he quickly slipped on his boots.
Another cold day. Even worse this time. Exactly the opposite of Florida, which was getting hotter this time of year. Taft strolled to the door and saw a note nailed to it.
Kid, it read. As I told you yesterday, I will be attending a meeting at the palace to report on the progress of your training. I should be back before midday. In case of an emergency, hide in the cellar.
There is a hatch on the floor in the food stores. Burn this letter as soon as you finish reading it. As for your training, while I am gone, write a three page summary of the book you read yesterday and two…
Taft stopped reading the rest. Of course he had homework. He was surprised that The Council was leaving him at the house. He may know skills like Resistance and Spark, but it didn't seem to be enough to defend himself.
On top of that, he was having a lot of trouble learning Billow. He still wasn't sure how to increase heat when he was holding kovak. Yes, he knew some basic sword forms, but even those were slow and weak.
Sallion had stopped by a second time—a week after the first. He informed them of what was happening. There had been no sign of the Nasanites since Taft's kidnapping. The Council guessed that they were roaming the streets, maybe watching the palace for any comings and goings.
The Council decided it was safer to keep the Alma Ni where he was and be extra vigilant to not be followed when travelling to Sallion's house. They almost cancelled the meeting with Sairia entirely, but decided a direct report from her was necessary. They also limited Sallion's visits, which made Taft relieved.
Taft walked out of the room, clutching the letter in his hand. The main room was empty, as expected. The fireplace had been cleaned, but Taft loaded it up with firewood from a pile a few feet away.
He pulled off some shavings of bark and held them in his hand. With his other hand he snapped, sending sparks onto the wood shavings. It took a few tries before the bark actually lit, which was good practice for him.
When it finally did light, he placed the bark in the center of the wood pile and the note on top. The parchment lit and spread the fire even more. In a few minutes, the fireplace was roaring.
Taft walked to the table on the other side of the room and flipped through some of his writings. His penmanship might be atrocious, but he felt like he had made a lot of progress.
It had been nearly a month since entering Sallion's house, and almost two months since his awakening in The Heart. His ability to retain information had dulled greatly, but he felt like it was still better than Jackson's. He wondered if it would continue to dull, or if he had already reached the point where it would stay.
Taft had no desire to do homework. He had enough of that when he was Jackson. He looked at the books and then looked back at the grand staircase. If Sairia was in a meeting, so was Sallion.
This might be the only chance Taft had to do a little sneaking around. He paced the main room for a while, deciding whether he should go upstairs, but ultimately decided that no real harm could come of it. He tiptoed up the steps—though he knew he didn't need to—and made a right turn at the top of the grand staircase.
The upper level was dark. No torches were lit, but they were still hitched to the wall. There was no main room like on the lower level. Instead it was just a long hallway, with doors on both sides intermittently.
The floors were made of wood up here and sometimes creaked when Taft stepped. He wondered how Sairia had avoided that. He looked in both directions down the hallway and could see windows at the end of each side, providing just enough light for Taft to see.
He decided to search the rooms to the right first. He walked to the last door at the end of the hallway and went inside the room. The door wasn't locked, and it didn't seem there was a way to do so either.
Inside, the room was full of furniture, but the pieces of furniture were all covered with heavy white blankets. Taft saw a short piece and pulled the blanket off, expecting to get a dusty greeting, but his hand came away almost completely clean.
The piece he uncovered was a table, twice as long as it was tall. It only came up to Taft's knees. There was nothing special about it, though the carving did look to be fine—like it was made by an experienced craftsman.
Taft felt the table, which also had no dust on it. Did the servants clean up here before he and Sairia arrived? He didn't want to uncover too many pieces of furniture, because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to get the blankets back on.
He lifted some of them, just to see what lie beneath. Then he left the room.
Taft did the same with the other rooms, but just as Sairia said, there was nothing out of the ordinary. All of the rooms were furnished, but all had white blankets covering those furnishings.
The pieces didn't look like they were "stored" exactly. They were set up in such a way that, if uncovered, the room would be ready for use. Taft left disappointed. There was only one room left to search, at the other end of the hallway from where he had started.
Taft opened the door to the room. It looked like all the others, except for a map on the wall. The map was uncovered. It depicted a continent, in the shape of an upside-down pear. A bumpy pear. The top of the map was labeled "Rey Oben".
So this was what Rey Oben looked like. He had never seen a map of the country yet, which seemed strange considering the amount of books Sairia had him reading. One of them should have had a map—he would need to complain to Sairia about that oversight.
Taft put his hand on the map and swiped across to flatten the map against the wall. He felt some holes. Tiny holes. The map used to have pins in it on specific points.
He wondered what those were for. Possibly Sallion's work. The man was a thriving businessman and now in charge of the nation's distribution of resources. It made sense for him to have a charted map of Rey Oben.
Still, Taft was curious to see where those holes were marked—just in case it was important to his investigation.
He needed a light since he couldn't see clearly in the dark room. There was no window in this room, which was odd. All the other rooms had a window except for the one at the other end of the hall.
It might have been a design choice. What was extra strange was that there were no torches in the room. There were hinges on the wall for torches to be put, but the torches themselves were removed.
Maybe if he could find a spare paper, he could light it with Spark. He looked around the room and under the blankets. One of the pieces of furniture was a desk, which Taft thought might have some papers in the drawer.
He opened the drawer and found a small stack of parchment. It looked old, like it had been discarded and ripped. Taft reached in the pile and took out a few pieces. When he lifted them away he found a more interesting piece of paper.
It was a letter. A half-written letter with a large inkstain covering part of the writing and most of the bottom half of the page.
Attention all, it read. Considering the recent news, I remind you that our loyalty must remain unwavering. If what my father learns pleases Him, he will undoubtedly be made Anointed. There is a shifting of power in the Order. When the time comes we will…
The ink stain covered the rest. Taft looked at it front and back—he couldn't make out the rest of the letter. He folded the paper and put it in his pocket.
Taft heard a noise downstairs and jumped. He didn't move.
"Kid? You here?" said Sairia's voice.
Taft cursed. How long had he been up here? He tiptoed to the door, hoping that the floorboards wouldn't creak. They did.
He hoped Sairia didn't hear that. He went as fast as he could while tiptoeing, trying to get to the stairs. When he got there, he slowly took each step and turned to go down the grand staircase.
There was Sairia, standing with her arms folded. "Are you out of your mind?" She asked angrily.
"I found something," he said, trying to avoid a lecture.
"We agreed to leave the upstairs alone. It's too risky. Sallion was right outside, you're lucky he decided not to stay."
"But how? Sallion said he wasn't allowed to visit so much, and he was in The Council meeting with you, anyway!"
"I had to get back here somehow, kid. And that's not the point; he could have rigged a trap to catch anyone meddling."
"Well, I'm not trapped," Taft said, showing off sarcastically.
"Not a trap to confine you. The kind of trap that shows evidence that someone was there. Like sandstone under a rug. When it's stepped on, it breaks, and the one who stepped has no idea."
"Oh…," Taft said.
"Luckily, I didn't see anything up there when I searched, but now I have to confirm. Thanks a lot, kid."
"Okay, I'm sorry. But I found something!"
Sairia rolled her eyes. "Fine, show me."
Taft took the letter out of his pocket and unfolded it, then handed it to Sairia.
She looked at it for a moment. "Where did you find this?"
"In a desk drawer. In the room at the end of the hallway to the left."
She looked at the letter again. "His son was living here just before we arrived."
"How do you know?" Taft asked quizzically.
"The furniture was clean and hasn't been moved in years. Even the blankets up there were clean. The house looks lived-in… And then there's this letter directed talking about 'my father.'"
"Couldn't that have been written by Sallion?"
"It's unlikely. Sallion's father has been dead for eight years. There's a portrait of his father in the bedroom I sleep in. It has a year on the back, along with a eulogy."
"You've been doing plenty of sneaking yourself, it sounds like," Taft said wryly. "What do you think Sallion collected from upstairs when he was here?"
"I'm not sure, it may be he never found it," she said, holding the letter up.
"What should we do?" Taft asked.
"Just because he lied about his son living here, that doesn't really incriminate him. It's just suspicious. As for the contents of the letter… I have no idea what 'Anointed' is supposed to mean, nor any clue about this 'Order.' 'Our loyalty' may be referring to the people that work for Sallion. It just seems to have some unusual wording."
"Did you talk to Abshak today?" Taft asked.
"I did. He didn't want to hear it. He said he already mistrusted Sallion once, and he wasn't going to do it again," Sairia said. "He didn't seem right; he got angry when I brought it up."
"What do we do now?"
"Continue to exercise caution. Maybe I can collect enough evidence. Abshak is a reasonable man, plus he still trusts me… I think."
Taft frowned. It didn't seem anyone would listen to them. To be fair, they didn't even know what Sallion was hiding. Just the fact that he was hiding something didn't sit well with either of them.
"Did you eat yet? I left a plate on the kitchen table," Sairia said.
"No, I didn't even check," Taft said.
They went to the kitchen together. There was one plate on the table, so Taft assumed Sairia had already eaten. He sat down and started eating. The food had improved since Sallion visited the second time.
Although, it didn't improve by much. Taft suspected it was because Sairia was a bad cook, but he didn't say anything. He put a spoonful of mash in his mouth and chewed slowly. The flavor was especially bland.
"I assume you didn't do the homework I left for you," Sairia said.
Taft swallowed. "You would be right about that," he said, grabbing another spoonful.
"Well, I guess we can do it at the end of the day. First, I want to work on Billow a little more. I think we're close to a breakthrough."
"Hopefully," Taft said with his mouth full.
"I see you lit the fireplace in the main room. So you clearly know how to use Spark. Once Billow is done, we can move on to Swelter. I think your Resistance is already at an acceptable level. Only true kovakirs raise it any higher."
Taft swallowed again. "Yeah, I mean, I even use Resistance without realizing. This one time, I grabbed a hot casserole from the stove and my mom had to tell me it was hot. I didn't even notice! Then I accidentally dropped the thing. She was pissed," Taft said with a chuckle.
Sairia had a pale look on her face. Her eyes were wide in shock.
Taft started getting nervous and looked around. "What is it?" He whispered.
"Did you just say you used kovak in The World Apart?"
Taft blinked. "Yeah, isn't that normal?"
Sairia shook her head slowly. "No, it's not. I thought it was impossible except for…" She stopped and put a hand over her mouth before rushing out of the kitchen.
. . .
Sairia closed the door to her room. She was breathing erratically and feeling disoriented. How could it be? Did the kid know Donnes? It wasn't possible; she had to calm herself down.
She tried to take deeper breaths and count to ten, just as she learned to do in her confinement. It helped. She began seeing clearly, and her head stopped spinning.
It had been a while since her last panic attack. She heard the kid shuffling outside her door. It sounded like he was walking back and forth out there.
He knocked. "Are you okay, Sairia?" The voice was muffled.
Sairia just couldn't believe the boy could be involved. He was too innocent. Too naive. She tried to calm herself down more before answering.
"Yeah, kid," she said. "I'm sorry, I just… remembered something I would rather forget."
"Okay," he said. "If you want, I can go work on Billow by myself. Just to give you some time alone. You can come out whenever; though, I'll probably need your help in a minute."
"I'll be there soon," she said. He was a good kid. A good kid.
. . .
Jackson walked down the hall on his way to Science class. He was still thinking about what happened to Sairia. It really freaked him out.
She was always so calm and collected. Even when she came to rescue him, she looked completely in control. It scared him to see that side of her.
He wondered if it was the same side of her that Sallion was referring to. Sairia the Scorned. What did it mean?
Taft had practiced Billow by himself for a while before Sairia had finally come out of her room. Then she acted like nothing happened. He didn't want to bring it up either, so he was glad to move on.
Not much progress was made on Billow. He tried to think back to what Sairia told him about increasing the heat.
"When you breathe in, act like you're trying to swallow the air," she had said. It didn't make sense to him.
Jackson made it to the classroom before everyone else and sat down. He tried breathing in like he wanted to swallow the air—whatever that meant.
He breathed in slowly until his lungs were full. He made sure not to accidentally use kovak. Sairia's reaction had scared him away from that. He breathed out. It still didn't feel right.
The other students came into class and sat down. Ryan sat next to Jackson, then greeted him. After a few minutes, the teacher got up and talked. It was about mixing solutions to cause a chemical reaction. That's about all Jackson heard before he zoned out again.
Swallowing air. What did she mean? Like burping? He sat there in wonder for a while, then the teacher broke the class into their groups to do the day's project.
"I'll go get the solutions," Ryan said. He got up and walked to the line of students at the front of the class, where Mrs. Shilling was handing out vials.
"Okay, cool," Jackson said. When Ryan left, he zoned out again. He tried swallowing the air, and then he burped. He closed his mouth quickly, hoping no one heard it.
No one was paying attention to him, so Jackson tried the Billow steps again, swallowing the air. A burp came out. He slumped on his desk in disappointment.
Jackson could only try all the steps together when he was in The Interim. He was too nervous about using his skills here, given Sairia's reaction. All he could do here was practice the individual steps, but not put them together.
Taft directed kovak to his lungs, just for a moment. He had that part down—he could feel it there. Even Sairia said that his direction of kovak wasn't the problem.
Ryan was walking over with two vials of liquid. The boy sniffed one of them and wrinkled his nose. "Smell this," he said, putting the vial up to Jackson's face.
The stench filled Jackson's nostrils and tickled the inside. He breathed in deeply and quickly, preparing to sneeze. Then he realized—too late—that he was still holding kovak in his lungs. He couldn't stop what happened next.
He sneezed. Hard.
A thick cloud of black smoke billowed from his nostrils and filled the entire classroom within a second. The girls started screaming immediately, and then came the sound of coughing from all directions, including from Ryan.
Jackson was breathing just fine, thankfully. Then suddenly, he was hit with a spray of water.
The ceiling sprinklers had come on due to the smoke. Jackson tried to cover his back from the shower. He couldn't see anything, but tried to feel his way around, to get out of the classroom. He bumped into several classmates and tables before finding the door. He swung it open and leaped out.
In the hallway, there were several students and teachers poking their heads out of classrooms. Jackson could hear the fire alarm ringing loudly in his ears. The teachers were looking at him suspiciously. This wasn't good. He inched away and put his back to the wall.
By then, the evacuation began. Each classroom had a teacher leading a line of students out of their respective classrooms and to the nearest exit. It took a while for the students in the science classroom to come out of the smoke, but they eventually did.
They seemed relatively unharmed, except for their uncontrollable fits of coughing. Mrs. Shilling tried to keep everyone under control and formed into a single file line. She did a head count several times before leading them out of the building.
Outside, Jackson tried to blend in and look innocent. All of the classes were together and no longer in single file—just in giant groups. After a few minutes, a fire truck came blaring down the street and stopped in front of the middle school.
Some of the firemen ran into the building. Jackson sank back into the crowd, trying not to be seen. He noticed Ryan was looking at him, though, and tried to ignore it. Then he noticed some teachers were talking to a fireman and pointing in the direction of Jackson's class.
The principal joined them in the conversation. A moment later, they all walked up to Mrs. Shilling's group.
"Jackson," Mrs. Beldein said. "Step forward, please."
Jackson nervously emerged from the crowd.
"What did you do?"
"I swear I didn't," he started saying, but the principal wasn't having it.
"After this, I have grounds to expel you. Several teachers saw you leaving the smoking classroom, and you didn't look like the victim." She was angry. Very angry.
"I just happened to leave before everyone else," Jackson protested.
"You lying little—"
"He's not lying," Ryan said, emerging from the crowd of students. "This wasn't Jackson's fault. I was with him the whole time before it happened. He didn't do anything, I swear."
That shut the principal up. "I— Well… it seems I've misjudged you, Cooley. I might not be able to take your word for it, but an honor roll student like Ryan here, I can." She turned around in a huff and walked away.
Jackson turned around. "Thanks, Ryan," he said, relieved. He had just narrowly evaded summer school, and possibly, repeating the eighth grade.
"That's what friends are for. You stick up for me, I stick up for you," Ryan said proudly. "I should've been there for you the last time you got suspended. Sorry."
"No worries, you really saved my butt this time."
"Don't mention it," Ryan said with a grin on his face.
Jackson smiled back. It seemed he was in the clear. If even Ryan hadn't seen anything, Jackson didn't think anyone else had either.
"Though, I have to admit," Ryan said. "I could have sworn I saw smoke coming out of your nose when you sneezed." He laughed.
A nervous chuckle was the best Jackson could muster.