Shadowcroft Academy Year 2 - Chapter Fifty-Two

Inga slept through the rest of finals and through the graduation ceremony itself.

Logan missed her, as he Marko and Treacle sat in the Golden Serpent Hall with the rest of the school. Everyone was giddy with the end of the year festivities.

Yullis Rockheart was the MC, and he was dressed in scarlet velvet, complete with a ruby-tipped cane. The rest of the faculty sat in their clan robes on gorgeous thrones, with a smiling Skip Shadowcroft in the center seat, a conjured spotlight blazing down on him from above. Arketa the Hellgazer, the master of the Vermilion Phoenix clan sat in a matching red velvet dress, a crimson scarf, and dark sunglasses. Next to her was the vulture-headed Bartholomew Nekhbet wearing a boring brown suit and tie. He looked like he belonged at an actuary accountant firm for monsters.

Professor Ronnalg Crucible, the big mustached ogre, frowned and scowled through the entire ceremony. He just wanted the year to be over. Word had it, he was looking forward to really working with Treacle during the summer break. The grumpy professor found the AFS Core Improvement fascinating. And Treacle would really be able to flex his might since he’d jumped to C-Class Rank 1, thanks to the final battle against Billy.

The happiest professor up there was John Toothbyte, the master of the Onyx Tortoise Clan. Toothbyte was dressed in his everyday work robes with a flowery Hawaiian-print shirt underneath—though they called them Muneeb shirts. Then again, it was hard to match nice clothes with a rusty hook and anchor.

When Shadowcroft’s gem core cast the final score for the clan competition, the Golden Serpent Hall went crazy:

The Crystal Tiger = 2566

The Azure Dragon = 2509

The Vermilion Phoenix = 2499

The Onyx Tortoise = 2475

It had been close all year long, but the Crystal Tiger clan had managed to keep their lead.

Both Arketa’s and Toothbyte’s clans had once again lost but neither seemed to care.

Rockheart, though, was fuming. The Azure Dragon had come in second place. Second! A fact that was wholly unacceptable to the Rector Prime, who also happened to be the master of the Azure Dragon clan. Still, the grumpy gargoyle did seem rather pleased that the year was over. The outgoing seniors would leave for their dungeon assignments, while the four worst performing students in the school were sent one their way, doomed to be wandering monsters in the wild and wacky Ashvattha universe. As much as Rockheart hated losing, he loved seeing the school purged of anything he considered weakness.

As it turned out, Suresh the Terrible, Clan master of the Crystal Tiger of the West, was not a gracious winner. The tiger-headed professor spent at least twenty minutes at the podium bragging about how great he was, then embarked on a long-winded rant about why they should’ve won last year–if only that Logan Murray hadn’t ruined the curve. Then he growled about how Logan had almost ruined the curve again this year, along with “some moth girl”—his words—who’d both managed to advance to B-Class. Thankfully, they both had caused so many headaches for the staff they’d also lost their clan the leaderboard—as was only right.

Inga had advanced, her points had been tallied, and yet, she was still in her room, in her cocoon, and it wasn’t clear if she’d pull through. Not knowing what would happen with her was driving Logan crazy. He’d had to severe his Symbiotic bond with her when the entity had taken her core over and he hadn’t been able to reestablish the connection before she advanced.

Thoughts of Inga invariably led Logan to thoughts of Steve—though he still was quite sure what to call the thing. Steve? William? Billy? Whatever the name, Logan hoped it was gone for good. Or that the Dungeon Council would find a way to track it down and exterminate the threat for good. Logan just wanted to do school for a while. Even with the entity gone, there were still a bevy of unanswered questions that Logan was curious about. Foremost among them: How did it know so much about Earth? And how could it have accessed Inga’s, Marko’s, and Treacle’s cores? The entity hadn’t been a fungaloid, but it sure had an ability that seemed to function a heck of a lot like Logan’s Symbiotic bond.

Logan might be able to move on and let the mysteries remain mysteries, but he had the feeling that once Inga emerged from her cocoon, she’d demand answers.

Logan was glad that they’d survived their second year. Pushing through their last finals had been rough. They’d all done fairly well.

Logan’s and Tet’s Diverse Dungeon Environment’s class project made Toothbyte sniffle, it was so good. Totally aced that class. Then of course, Professor Zantho had no choice but to pass Logan. He’d literally saved Arborea. Professor Arketa was highly impressed both by his use of his suicide wargs and Mariah’s new form, and so he passed her Minion Management class with flying colors.

Professor Arketa liked Logan all right, but she adored Marko.

She gave him a special commendation for his work in her Dungeon Music and Sound Design class. It was touching. Marko also rounded off the year by hitting C-Class Rank 2. The boost from shattering the proto-gem had really pushed him up, which certainly helped with his overall grades. Marko also did fairly well in the rest of his classes, except of course, for Nekhbet’s History of Arborea class. But then, even Logan didn’t do that well in Nekhbet’s class—and he knew the literal, secret history of Arborea. Logan managed a solid C because he got a little too controversial with his cardinal dungeon theory.

Professor Moonbow Rainsap gave all his students gold stickers and X pluses, which seemed like some kind of uber-good grade. Logan wasn’t sure. Professor Rainsap was still weird, though Logan would forever be appreciative to the Snake Sage of Solitudefor showing him the path of the Radiant Serpent Under the Glowing Moon.

Treacle did well, of course, and the minotaur even seemed to enjoy all the testing. His near-death brush with Billy had really turned his overall disposition around.

Logan figured they’d all return to their summer jobs—Logan would find new synonyms for agony, slaving away for Rockheart. Treacle would go back to working for Professor Crucible, while Marko would be serving up hooch at the Wandering Inn. Having Chadrigoth around, helping out the Threshing Turtle, would be interesting. As for Inga, if she survived her transformation, Logan figured she’d be back in the Codex Athenaeum working for Madame Orry Gammy.

Their third year should be interesting because they would be competing in the inter-school competition, though there would be a ton of pressure for Shadowcroft to win. They hadn’t won in a decade. Nightfall University had dominated for the past fifty years, and while some other schools had won once or twice, everyone agreed that Nightfall University was the school to beat. Next year would be especially intense since the tournament rotated and it was Shadowcroft’s turn to host.

Logan clapped absently while the dungeon cores of the Crystal Tigers marched up to get their prizes. There was a lot of posturing, but Logan didn’t care much. He wished he had Melvin’s fedora to fiddle with, but it was in the cocoon with Inga.

During the graduation, Chadrigoth kept glancing over at Logan. The abyss lord wasn’t enjoying the First Cohort as much as he’d had when he’d been a bullying asshat. Now that he was more self-aware, the abyss lord was struggling to connect with his old friends, but he still wanted to try and save them from themselves. Those were Chadrigoth’s words.

Chadrigoth and Tet were closer, but the feline sandmaster wasn’t there—she was hunkered down with Inga in her room. Logan didn’t like the idea of Inga being alone for long periods of time, and the feline sandmaster seemed to enjoy the task.

The Gelatinous Knight and Nemoy were sitting with Fractilla the ice imp and the Ninth Circle.

There was some tension there. Larry the snow golem had demolished Toygee the gecko behemoth in their O.D.D. final. Both passed, of course, but Toygee was having a hard time dealing with his loss. The Ninth Circle should be happy, though. Fractilla had led them to the be second best cohort in the school. The First Cohort remained number one, while the Terrible Twelfth were still in third. It was a huge accomplishment for Logan’s cohort not to slip into fourth, considering those were school wide rankings.

Rockheart had said it directly—there was something special about the second years.

Once Suresh the Terrible finally finished his rambling victory tirade, Shadowcroft stood and gave a final rousing speech, which ended of course, with him raising his gnarled hands up high. “We’re alive, so we can do wonderful things!”

A lot of loud conversation, hugs, and congratulations followed. They’d leave the Golden Serpent Hall and go out to theBanquet tables, which had been set up in the northwestern fields, near the DIE Pavilion. There’d be a bonfire, torches, food, drinks, and dancing. Logan shuddered at the thought of Nemoy doing the worm across the dancefloor. Some things simply couldn’t be unseen. The Treegees were already running out there bearing trays of goodies.

GK and Nemoy were already on their way out the door.

Logan expected Marko to go chasing after them, but the satyr seemed so subdued. He put his hand on the seat next to him, where Steve would’ve been if he’d been around.

The satyr sighed. “This is just great. Logan charges past Inga and is basically knocking on A-Class—”

“I’m only Rank 4,” Logan said.

Marko rolled his eyes. “Please. Knowing you, you’ll beat Chadrigoth to Jade Leaf. And when Inga finally wakes up, she’ll be an Azure Branch cultivator too. Treacle will probably advance over summer break, while I’m probably going to get stuck forever at Iron-Trunk Rank 2. Heck, if it wasn’t for Steve, I wouldn’t even be that high. And I know I shouldn’t… but I miss Steve.”

Treacle snorted, but that snort quickly turned into a chuckle and soon was honest-to-goodness guffawing. Tears of laugher rolled down his hairy cheeks. He was crying so much that little automatons came out with miniature mops to clean up the mess.

Marko never missed out on joke, and soon he was laughing so hard that Logan started laughing. The sound was just infectious.

Logan felt tears tumble from his eyes. The little moppers took care of them. “Why are we laughing?” he asked between wheezes.

Marko laughed harder. “I don’t know!”

All around, dungeon cores were staring at them.

Chadrigoth finally came over to give Logan’s shoulder a squeeze. It was clear that big, blue demon thought they were all weeping. “Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll make sure the Azure Dragon clan wins next year. And Inga will come out of that cocoon better than ever. Just you wait and see.” He moved off, throwing his arms around Lady Elesiel and Jimi. “Life is so great when you’re not with your family!”

Chadrigoth offered Logan one more smile—which sent him into another gale of laughter—and then the First Cohort moved outside.

Treacle wiped his face. “I’m glad you are worrying about your rank, Marko. You and I will get to Azure Branch, don’t worry. It’s only a matter of time. More than that, I’m just glad none of us died. I’m so glad we made it through another year at this bloodthirsty school. And lastly, I’m so glad Steve is gone, Marko. I know you don’t want to hear this, but he was so negative. He had no purpose. But us? We have a purpose. We’re alive, and so we can do wonderful things.”

Marko squinted and tilted his head. “Who says that? That sounds so familiar. Is that an Inga thing?”

Logan was about to lay into the satyr for messing with him when Tet Akhat slipped into the Golden Serpent Hall.

Tet had a dizzy smile on her face as she walked over.  “Are you ready to see her? Are you ready to see Inga Thosa Therian, Azure Branch Cultivator, B-Class Rank 10?”

Logan felt his eyes widen and a lopsided grin split his face.

Marko let out a hoot, then jumped onto the table and threw his hands in the air. “I knew she could do it! Nothing can keep Inga down! Not block head professors. Not ancient dungeoneers hellbent on universal domination. Not even silverware! We have our Inga back!”

Treacle’s smile was so bright his goggles snapped out of the side of his face to cover his eyes. His horns also burst out with a spotlight, so Inga was perfectly lit as she stepped out of the hallway.

She was taller, thicker, wearing her blue school robes draped over her shoulders—there was something strange about the sleeves, though. Were here arms bigger? Her skin had transformed into deep, burnished silver and her hair was a bright freshly fallen snow. Her oversized eyes glowed liked moonlight. Her antennae were no longer slender stalks but bushy and covered with dark delicate tendrils. Melvin’s hat fit perfectly behind them. Her wings opened, flawless white with large black skulls staring out at the world. Beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.

She took to the air and fluttered over, touching down lightly in front of them. With a soft smile, she spread her arms—she now had four of them.

Marko counted, just to be sure he wasn’t seeing double from the Liverkill. “One, two, three, four arms! Tell me you can do your chrysalis sword thing with all four arms!”

“Of course, Marko Laskarelis!” She grabbed Marko with one hand and yanked him to his feet. Another hand seized Treacle by a horn and hauled him upward. Those last two hands were for Logan. She pulled them all into a crushing hug and wrapped them in her silky wings. There was a sweet smell to her. A halo of silvery dust glowed all around them.

Tet stood back, arms crossed, tail flicking, smiling at the Terrible Twelfth.

Logan’s cap touched Inga’s hat, and he smiled as he looked into her silvery eyes. “You’ve been out of it, but the History of Arborea final is awful. You’ll do fine. As for your Cutlery of Eritreus class, when I told Professor Nekhbet about how I messed up your table setting and that broke Billy’s spell on you, he decided right then and there to pass you. He’s so impressed, he said he’s going to give you his signed copy of Eliza P. Perfect’s first book, The Dinner Party of the Polite God. We did it, Inga, we passed our sophomore year.”

The smile slipped from Inga’s face. She was suddenly as serious as a heart attack. “Do not talk to me of silverware or school, Logan Murray. In the end, this school business is silly. It’s our cohort that matters. Our family.”

Inga opened up her wings and gestured for Tet to join them.

With her extra arms, Inga could hold them all.

It had been one helluva year, but Logan had grown, they’d protected the school, and they’d survive. Logan couldn’t forget that he was at the Shadowcroft Academy for Dungeons so he could go back to Earth and nurture the dwindling Apothos there. Without a doubt, he’d made some serious progress—both he and Inga were Azure Branch Cultivators.

The Terrible Twelfth had so many choices to make about their abilities, so many new things they could do to protect their dungeons, and they could spend the summer practicing and getting ready for their third year.

Right then, though, Inga was right. It was a time to celebrate.

Logan pulled Marko and Treacle closer to him. “You know what, Treacle? You’re right. I don’t miss Steve at all.”

Marko looked confused. “Who’s Steve?” Then he laughed right before Inga about lost it.

Yep. They were together. And the esprit de corps never felt so sweet.