Chapter 45: Quiet Days

Chapter 45: Chapter 45: Quiet Days

Loran did not come back.

Not the next day.

Not the day after that.

Jason’s perception was at its maximum range for as long as he could manage without feeling a headache.

He peeked his head out the kitchen window looking for any signs that his father

"Stop doing that" Novaria said from the kitchen doorway.

"Doing what?"

"Checking the street like it owes you money."

"It might."

Over the past few days she had to have noticed his breakthrough to the second level.

Breaking through that quickly was terribly abnormal, but she’d never questioned Jason about it.

Not even once.

She’d probably figured that if he wasn’t telling her how then it was probably one of the secrets he couldn’t afford to tell her yet.

Jason spared another glance at her. Steeling his resolve to help her get better.

----

A week of nothing was somehow worse than if Loran had actually shown up again.

---

The days settled into a rhythm.

Mornings began with Jade Vein Soup and Novaria’s commentary on how the spoon was "a weapon of mass inefficiency."

"You could let me hold it," she said, on the third morning.

"You could," Jason agreed, lifting another spoonful. "But then you’d drop it, glare at me, and I’d have to pretend I wasn’t impressed by how well you glare."

"I do not glare."

"Right now you’re glaring."

"This is my regular face."

"Then your regular face is terrifying."

She opened her mouth to reply, and he slid the spoon in.

Her eyes narrowed over it.

Victory.

---

By midday he was in the backyard with the spear.

Thrust. Pull. Reset.

Thrust. Pull. Reset.

Darius had said the fundamentals were his, and that anything further had to come from real fights. Jason agreed.

But fundamentals rusted if you let them.

So he drilled them until his arms burned and his footwork stopped wasting motion. He drilled Crimson Blaze in small, controlled bursts, fire curling off the tip, then pulling it tight until it hissed.

Every so often he glanced up.

Novaria sat in the shade by the window, watching.

Sometimes she corrected him.

"Your back foot is drifting."

"No it’s not."

"It’s drifting."

He checked.

It was drifting.

"...Thank you."

"Of course," she said, with perfect innocence.

"Anything else?"

"Your shoulders are tense."

"You’re holding that spear like it insulted your mother."

He looked down. His knuckles had gone white.

"...Fine. Thank you again."

"I’m here all week."

The evenings belonged to the house.

Judith didn’t come over since Jason was around to take care of things.

Dinner got made. The neighbor’s dog kept barking at nothing, and the leak under the sink kept leaking, because Jason kept forgetting to fix it.

"You said you’d fix that," Novaria reminded him, nudging the bucket with her foot.

"I will."

"You said that Tuesday."

"I meant it Tuesday."

And at night, he cultivated.

The foundation for his fresh second stage Cultivation needed time to solidify, and he gave it time.

Slowly and patiently, one circulation after another, until the heavier essence stopped feeling like borrowed weight.

Veil stayed off during those hours.

He couldn’t use it while cultivating anyway.

But in the quiet moments between sessions, he poked at it.

Showing a different level. Showing the wrong damage. Showing nothing at all.

It answered every time.

’It still functioned as a curtain. But something about it’s mutation allowed him to paint whatever picture he wanted onto said curtain.

He still didn’t understand why.

He tucked that thought away next to all the others he didn’t understand

The pile was getting tall.

---

On the seventh day, his phone rang.

Reeve.

"Jason. You free this afternoon?"

"Depends. Is it dangerous?"

"It’s E-Rank."

"That doesn’t answer the question."

Reeve laughed. "Fair. We just got cleared for a Gate. It’s close to breaking, so we have to move today. Meeting is at four."

"Who’s on the team?"

"Same as before. Skyler, Wen, me.

I tried calling on Cassius but he mentioned being busy today, so you’ll have to survive without his laughing."

"I’ll cope."

Jason glanced at the clock.

Just past noon.

’An E-Rank Gate.

It’s easy money for only a few hours of work, and something to do besides stare at the ceiling and think about my father.’

And there was the other problem.

The one he’d been circling since the Labyrinth.

He needed a way into higher Gates.

Real ones.

’Until I figure that out, I’m just killing time. Might as well kill something else while I’m at it.’

"I’m in," Jason said.

"Four o’clock. I’ll send you the address. Don’t be late."

"I’m never late."

The line clicked.

He stared at the phone for a moment.

Then he dialed again.

---

Judith picked up on the second ring.

"Jason?"

"Hi, Judith. Sorry to call out of nowhere. I have a favor to ask."

"Of course."

"I have a raid at four. It’s going to run into the evening. Would you be able to stay with Novaria until I’m back?"

A pause.

"The evening," Judith said slowly.

"Yes."

"Jason, I usually go see my son after my shift. I’d have to move things around."

"I know."

"And I’m not sure..."

"I’ll pay overtime."

"That isn’t what I’m..."

"Double," Jason said.

Silence.

Then a sigh, soft and long suffering, the sigh of a woman who had spent twenty three years dealing with stubborn soldiers.

"You are impossible."

"I’ve been told."

"I’ll call him and let him know. He’ll understand."

"Thank you, Judith. Really."

"Don’t thank me yet," she said dryly. "You still haven’t told me when I’ll be released."

"Soon as I’m back. Promise."

"Take your phone with you," Judith said. "And eat something first."

"Yes, ma’am."

"Hm."

He hung up before she could change her mind.

---

At a quarter to four, Jason stood at the edge of a quiet suburban street, looking at a Gate.

It hovered between two buildings, a swirl of pale light, flickering unevenly like a dying lamp.

Behind it, across a wide field, stood a school.

A high school.

Jason’s eyes lingered on it a little too long.

"Don’t look so grim," Skyler said, stepping up beside him. "It’s a small Gate."

"It’s a Gate next to a school."

"A small Gate next to a school."

"That’s not the comforting part you think it is."

Reeve joined them, Wen right behind him, both with the look of people who had thought about this already.

"It’s the reading," Reeve said. "It’s low. Barely above F. The Association classified it E on a technicality."

"And the schools?"

"They’ve evacuated the nearby blocks, and some security will be posted. But nobody higher up wants to spend resources on a Gate this weak."

"They didn’t even send scouts," Wen said quietly.

Jason blinked.

"Seriously?"

"Not a single one," Reeve said. "They looked at the numbers, shrugged, and put it up on the board. Nobody wanted it. The payout is small, the risk looks small, and it’s close to breaking."

"So it’s the sort of Gate people ignore until it goes wrong," Skyler muttered.

"Exactly."

"And if it breaks while we’re inside?" Jason asked.

"Then we have a very bad afternoon," Skyler said.

"Comforting."

"I do my best."

Jason looked back at the school.

The bell would ring in about forty minutes.

’Perfect. So if we’re slow, a few hundred kids walk out into a monster stampede. No pressure.’

"Then let’s not be slow," he said.

Reeve nodded once.

"Everyone ready?"

They were.

They stepped through.

---

The air inside was damp and heavy.

A narrow cave stretched ahead, its walls glistening, the floor soft and uneven under their boots.

Jason’s Perception swept out.

Dozens of small signatures. Crowded together. Skittering.

"Ants," he said.

"Ants?" Skyler echoed.

"Big ones. Lots of them."

Wen grimaced.

"I hate ants."

"Everyone hates ants."

"I hate them more."

Click. Click. Click.

The sound rolled out of the tunnel ahead, hundreds of tiny legs against stone.

Then the first of them appeared.

It was about the size of a large dog, six legged, its body wrapped in a glossy black carapace that shone like wet oil.

Its mandibles opened.

Chk!