“Mr. Fulgen, how do you approach conflict?”

  “With my fists held high.”

  “I meant like interpersonal conflict. In the workplace.”

  “Oh. With my fists held low? Out of sight, but still clenched?”

  “All right, ladies and gentlemen,” said Chris Eisner. They were in the garage area of G-Tech’s workshop. Jessie stood beside her hovercycle, and Fu beside her mechsuit. The rest of Team Snowcrest waited nearby.

  Jessie, reflexively, stood at parade rest as her new leader addressed his team. Tessa, Chris’s Lieutenant, noticed her posture and nodded approvingly.

  “First off, before we get down to business, I would like to officially welcome Corporal Jessica Faxton to the team.”

  The team applauded, and the beast tamer with the glasses gasped in recognition.

  “She’s from the GPD Elite, a first for one of our liaisons, and she’s—sorry Corporal, do you want me to explain it?”

  Jessie pursed her lips, but she shrugged. “I’m an aetherjack.”

  “She don’t fight like it though,” said Fu.

  That garnered a few chuckles and a little more applause.

  “I dare say not,” said Chris. “As of now she’s our full time liaison and has agreed to be on call and on mission whenever we are. We look forward to her being a valuable contributor to the team.

  “And none too soon.” Chris held up a remote and clicked a button. A monitor descended from the ceiling and began to display footage of Brick and Mantis.

  “We’ve now seen three robberies in as many days,” Chris continued. “All somewhere between levels 8 and 10. All within ten cells of this very building. All perpetrated by sorcerers matching the descriptions of Brick and Mantis. And all—all with at least one fatality.”

  “Crazy bitch,” Fu muttered. “A serial killer sorcerer! This is extra even for the Garrison.”

  “They received a care package, then?” asked Junpei Lin.

  “It appears so,” said Chris.

  Jessie nodded solemnly. It was a known Garrison tactic, and it often produced devastating results.

  Kidane, the healer, scratched his beard. “That means they have the same objective as the night of the precinct attack, right? Kill Jett Fulgen or take his artifact? I’m unclear on which of those it was.”

  “Definitely the latter,” Jessie confirmed. “Both the sorcerers and grunts mentioned it specifically. Doesn’t much matter, since killing Jett would be the easiest way to accomplish that anyway.”

  “So they’re screwed,” said Junpei. At the others’ looks, he held out his hands. “What? Fulgen is here. Two sorcerers versus us. All of us. It doesn’t matter how many banks they rob.”

  “It means we’re all in danger,” said Tessa. “They’re desperate, and desperate sorcerers paint a bloody trail right up until they’re put down.”

  Jessie nodded. “A dead G-Tech sorcerer will be a step in the right direction as far as they’re concerned.”

  “And if we hang back,” said Kidane, understanding, “they’ll just keep killing other people. Every time Mantis kills will be a little bit our fault.”

  Tala’s monkey screeched, and she patted its head soothingly. But she spoke grimly. “We have to play right into their hands, don’t we?”

  “I’m afraid so,” said Chris. “That’s why we’re it. Until further notice, G-Tech’s best is on call to intercept Brick and Mantis wherever they show up. All other rotations and missions will be put on hold or covered by the other teams until then.”

  “Shit, they’ll love that,” said Junpei.

  Chris shot Junpei a glance, but ignored the comment. “Corporal Faxton, and Miss Tetsumi. Because you two confronted them last week, tell us what you can about their abilities.”

  They did. Fu focused on Brick, having fought him personally, and Jessie walked through the skills she’d seen Mantis use.

  “I assume her praying mantis claw attack is something she’s synthesized herself,” she concluded. “A variant of Ice Claw, or perhaps Ice Fist?”

  “She’s also learned Ice Beam recently,” said Tessa. “Responders to the robberies have reported it.”

  She thought for a moment, then turned to Chris. “Sir. Her skillset is oddly similar to yours. Not just the shared element. But the variety and the level of power.”

  “It had occurred to me,” said Chris, his face dark.

  “Wait,” said Fu. “You guys are thinking she’s another Ice Guardian? That’s impossible, right?”

  “As impossible as anything having to do with aether is.”

  “Oh.” Fu made a dismissive noise. “Come on Cornice, you trying for a movie line with that one? Save that for the next marketing video.”

  “Anyway,” said Chris, “That’s what we’re doing for the next few weeks. Take fifteen, then form up and we’re going out on patrol. Dismissed.”

  Tala immediately dashed over to Jessie. “Corporal Faxton, it’s an honor to meet you. Your father—”

  “—got you your artifact?” Jessie asked. Tala blushed. “Don’t worry. Actually it’s very strange. I had to look into it because I’ve distanced myself from my family holdings for a while, but if you follow the chain of subsidiaries high enough, well… turns out I own 15% of the company.”

  “Oh.” Tala’s eyes went wide. “Wow. Does that mean I… work for you?”

  “Not in the least. I have no voting rights or any other real control. G-Tech just happened to fit the criteria my dad set in his trusts for investing in the responsible gathering and use of artifacts and protecting the rights of ethical sorcerers.”

  “What a weird little world,” said Tessa.

  Jessie regarded the lean woman. “Tessa Vale, right? Ex-GPD?”

  She started. “Did you look me up? Or is it that obvious?”

  “Well, I mean—” Jessie put a hand on Fu’s shoulder. “—I already know one former Elite officer. You can always read the signs.”

  “Yep,” said Fu with mock stiffness. “I love discipline. Got a whip at home and everything.”

  At that both Jessie and Fu burst out laughing, earning looks from the remaining team members.

  Tessa looked annoyed, but then her face broke and she rolled her eyes. “Honored to have you on board, Corporal. Just uh… do more to rein Fu in than to encourage her, okay? We’d all appreciate it.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Jessie shrugged. “I can try, but you guys are really in trouble once Jett enters your ranks. No one can control him.”

  Tessa’s expression went blank. Jessie frowned. Then Chris cleared his throat, and she turned.

  “Corporal,” he said quietly, his expression strangely grim. “Can I speak to you for a moment about a slightly unhappy topic?”

  A month ticked by, and I fell into a new routine—a new normal that was decidedly abnormal. My mornings started with a grueling workout. Valery would crack the whip if Team Bulwark was at HQ. Otherwise I’d work with one of several non-sorcerer trainers on staff, or simply go through my prescribed routine on my own. I was surprised at how little I was tempted to slack when no one was looking.

  Afternoons were spent working on training room-friendly skills, which usually meant slowly reducing wooden dummies and targets to piles of ash. There would be one or two breaks for a sparring match with one of the other sorcerers, and I would usually lose. But my levels were creeping upward, along with my skill levels and my familiarity with my new powers. I could feel myself slowly catching up.

  However, my favorite time of day by far was just before lunch. That’s when I visited the roof.

  I had a large profile when I was skidding, which made it difficult for me to stay in even the wide lanes for the rooftop running tracks. So Valery had blocked off an hour a day for me, when one track would be reserved exclusively for my use. While the quarter pipes allowed me to change things up with tricks, it still wasn’t particularly exciting circling the oval or figure eight tracks over and over again. However, it did allow me to get up to speed. By the end of the month I’d also trained Torch Thruster up to tier 2 and was able to take a modifier called Imbued, which further increased its power when channeled through a weapon or armor. The Torch parent skill soon followed. That upgrade automatically allowed me to set parts of my body other than my hands as the source of the skill, so for the modifier I chose Sustained, increasing the efficiency of all torch skills over prolonged use. My speed on my aether powered skidstick was something approaching acceptable.

  More than that, my rooftop sessions gave me something I lacked everywhere else: A way to blow off steam without anyone watching or judging. I came out in sun and rain, just to feel the wind and forget about politicking and relationships and whatever the hell else was going on downstairs for a while. Forget about Brick and Mantis, still skulking around just close enough to the headquarters to keep Marin and the other execs on constant alert.

  Even when Tessa Vale or someone from Team Cyclone joined me, using the other track or running the obstacle course, we mostly did our own things. I got the sense they came up here for the same reason I did, so we shared the roof in companionable silence.

  Usually.

  “You still love it, huh?”

  I slid to a stop, looking around for the source of the voice. I found it at the top of the climbing/parkour tower. It was Lina Feng—the former skid podder, now a member of Team Cyclone. She was sitting on the top platform, idly dangling a leg.

  I shrugged. “It’s been with me through the best and worst. You ever miss it?”

  I’d only interacted with the slim dark-haired woman a couple of times, despite us sharing common threads both through skidding and through knowing Squid. She dropped twenty feet and landed with so little impact it was like she weighed nothing. I knew her class was a Grasshopper Dervish, combining wind aether with a speed-based physical build that included incredible jumping ability.

  “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But it’d only be a hobby now. My skills move me around a lot better. The way you managed to fuse skidding with your skills and power your equipment? It’s actually kind of genius.”

  “It was inspiration born of an indomitable spirit and a giant cat trying to eat me. One might have been a bigger factor than the other.” I held out Bullet Train. “You’re welcome to give it a shot if you ever get the urge. I can’t promise my shoes will fit you, though.”

  “Oh no!” Lina laughed. “I don’t know how you stickers do it. It took me over a year to feel stable with pods. Later I tried out a stick and felt like a baby learning to walk all over again. So, how are you settling in?”

  “Uh.” I couldn’t prevent a grimace. “Could be better. I dunno, I was hoping I’d hit it off with more people. I don’t know if I’m too much of a dick, or if I’m threatening, or if as a Guardian I’m too important or something, but it feels like some of the other sorcerers…” I trailed off as Lina suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Or is there something else going on?”

  She looked away and began nervously fiddling with an ear stud—which, I realized, was her artifact.

  “You’re not part of it,” I persisted. “But Dante. Junpei. Tessa, I think. Maybe the Shirogane twins. Who’s your teammate, Minho? Some of you have had a chip on your shoulder about me since day one. I thought Dante just didn’t like me because I’m another fire sorcerer stomping on his turf, but there’s more.”

  “I—I’m not sure I should talk about it.”

  I dismissed Bullet Train and crossed my arms. “Does it have anything to do with my dad? Alex Fulgen?”

  “Twelve years ago,” she said slowly. “I shouldn’t even be saying it. You were at the epicenter of it. It hurt you more than anyone.”

  “Ok, well, it’s still hurting me. Half the people in this company—the people I’m supposed to fight alongside someday—hate me, and I don’t know why.”

  “Your father’s actions. The events they set off. A lot of other people got hurt too, Jett. Not directly, but what he did scared a lot of very evil people. Those people cleaned house, taking out suspected moles. People like us—sorcerers, artifact hunters, people who are trying to use this power for good—they’re a close knit group.

  “So the short of it is, there are people here who lost friends, family, and loved ones during those events, or at least know someone who did. There’s a lot of resentment. It’s not your fault, but the name ‘Fulgen’ is sullied for some of the people here. I’m sorry. And I guess there’s some… well, your father had a reputation as a rebel too in some circles. Maybe there’s some overlap. Some familiar patterns.”

  “Oh. Wonderful.” Every bone in my body wanted to storm off at that moment. Break something. Shut myself in my room. Some kind of gesture or tantrum. But I checked myself. Relationships. “Thank you for telling me, Lina.”

  [You know, that Lina’s a little thin for my tastes, but–]

  ?Not in the mood right now, Habby. Every woman. Basically every one within a decade of my age. It’s really getting—?

  “Whoa!”

  I was so lost in my own head—with company—that I bumped right into someone while crossing the upper floor offices from the roof stairwell to the elevator.

  And of course, it was Marin.

  “Shit! Sorry, boss!”

  “Mr. Fulgen?”

  I stooped to help her pick up some papers I’d caused her to drop. I actually hadn’t seen much of the woman over the past week. “Sorry about that,” I repeated. “Got distracted.”

  “Is everything all right?” She snatched her golden fountain pen off the floor and placed it in her breast pocket.

  “I was just conferring with my lecti.”

  “Most sorcerers don’t look that angry when they’re speaking to their lecti.”

  “It’s… a little complicated.”

  “Is there anything you can tell me about it? A sorcerer’s relationship with their lecti is important, Mr. Fulgen. You already know how personal it is. I might be able to give you some advice.”

  “You?”

  Marin smirked. “Do you think I ended up in this position by chance, Mr. Fulgen?”

  Good point, though it hadn’t occurred to me that Marin might have once been a sorcerer. Or maybe still was. “Well, you’ve heard how he came with some stuff from Issa?”

  [Jett, what are you doing?]

  “Yes, I saw a report. Memories, and quite extensive ones I believe?”

  “And vivid enough that some of his personality rubbed off. Including his ah, wandering eyes, if you get what I’m saying.”

  “Ah.” Her expression was pointedly neutral.

  “Like, I don’t know if Tala has spoken about it, but one of the reasons she got so flustered during that exchange in the workshop is because he made some comments about her appearance. Mild ones, thankfully. Some of the things he says in private to me are… well, they’re borderline inappropriate.”

  I felt embarrassed saying it, but it felt good to tell someone. I expected sympathy from Marin, maybe even wry amusement at what I’d been saddled with. Instead, she looked downright alarmed.

  “Would you like to try a few sessions of lecti therapy?” she whispered.

  “No, I don’t think…” I paused as what Marin said truly registered. “Hold up, is that really a thing?”

  “Oh, yes. Even in normal cases a sorcerer doesn’t exactly choose their lecti’s personality, not like you would choose a skill modifier or milestone reward. But they can consciously will certain traits and patterns into their lecti. Sometimes people aim for a rigid, drill sergeant-like personality, hoping it will motivate them to train harder. Occasionally, people have even tried to recreate a lost or distant loved one, trying to fill some hole. Unfortunately, their memories often impose more than their imagination.”

  That gave me a chill. If my lecti were one of the more usual, blank-slate creatures without legacy influence, would I have felt that temptation? To try to shape it to be like my dad? Or my mom? What might have happened? Would I have told my lecti the same thing I told her?

  Marin continued, “The short of it is, we’ve had to deal with lecti who became aggressive, uncooperative, and even abusive. In extreme cases we’ve even had to banish the lecti and make the artifact locate a new one. A sorcerer doesn’t lose any power from that transition, but the loss of knowledge, rapport, and synchronization during battle can be felt. Still, if the relationship with the lecti is toxic…”

  [Jett? Jett?!]

  “I don’t think we’re to that point yet,” I said with a smile I couldn’t disguise. “But I’ll keep it in mind.”

  As I walked away, I had to fight not to laugh.

  [I have never felt so betrayed.]

  ?It’s early yet. You’ve been conscious for like two weeks. Don’t worry, I’m not thinking of dumping you at this point. But manboob jail is now a light sentence. You’d better shape up, or you’ll have to sit through lecti therapy.?

  [This era is hell.]