The Iron-Jawed Boy

  “A banshee knows only the names of those who are soon fated to die,” the ghost repeated, colder this time. Ion bared his teeth, but before he could return her to the table, she opened her mouth once more. “And your name is Ionikus Reaves.”

  Ion’s breath escaped him, and the banshee threw her head back, letting out a hair-raising scream so loud, Ion had to drop her so he could shield his ears.

  The screaming stopped, and the room grew silent, save for Ion’s heavy breathing.

  A woman’s voice sounded in the hall. “Did you hear that, Esereez?” Vinya asked.

  “Again?” Esereez growled. “This is the third time tonight, Vinya—now you’re just hearing things.”

  “No,” she said, her voice growing near. “I think it came from in here—”

  The door to the War Room gave an exhausted groan as Vinya and her brother slowly entered. The ends of Vinya’s pink gown swept the floor as she walked; Esereez stayed beneath the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest. Vinya surveyed the room: up the towering windows, over the mosaic floors and painted ceiling. Esereez’s eyes fell upon the Gods and Guts table...and the spot where Ion had stood only moments ago.

  “That cursed automaton!” Esereez said, barreling into the room. He turned the dial on the Gods and Guts table, and the Dark Descendants sunk into the pool of blood. “Hispoticus never cleans up his forsaken messes!”

  Ion watched from under the table, through the white curtains draping its lower half, as Vinya patrolled the room.

  “I know I heard something in here,” she said softly.

  “Stop being so paranoid, or I’ll tell Father,” said Esereez. “How could you honestly believe this place is haunted?”

  Ion listened much closer now.

  “Of course it’s haunted,” she said through her teeth. “The Shroud is ever thinning, Esereez. You can’t expect those poor Callers to charge it for very much longer, can you? The idea was ridiculous to begin with! That such a small race of humans could power such an important barrier like the Shroud. I’ve never seen the council make such a horrible mistake.”

  “The majority was in favor,” said Esereez, seething now. “While the male Callers power the Shroud, the females fight in the war. The Detainment killed two six-winged crows with one stone, and you know it.”

  “The rights of lesser creatures, no matter how much lesser, should never be up for a vote,” Vinya snapped. “It isn’t right, Esereez—I knew it, and so did half the pantheon. Make no mistake about it, the Shroud will crumble, brother. Soon. And when it does, all those spirits it’s been holding back will come spilling out into our world. Which race will we detain then to stop the destruction?”

  Esereez knotted his fingers and held them against his stomach. “Sounds like a bunch of rubbish to me. The Callers are doing a fine job! I have yet to see one spirit. Next week you’ll tell me you have an imaginary friend.”

  Vinya cackled. “Oh, they’re here, brother. I can hear their whispers, feel their eyes following me. It’s only a matter of time.”

  Esereez made his way to the door. “I’m leaving, Vinya. You’re more than welcome to join me if you think this particular room is clear of any zombies.”

  Vinya approached the Gods and Guts table, and Ion held his breath, her feet now at the tip of his nose.

  “Very well,” Vinya said.

  She followed her brother out into the hall, and when the door slammed shut behind them, Ion exhaled and rolled over onto his back. Though he hadn’t yet fully processed what was going on, he was sure of one thing: he was not supposed to hear that conversation.

  So the Callers hadn’t all been shipped away to fight in the Outerworld, he thought. That was just a cover for the truth.

  Half of them—Father included—weren’t drafted for war. They were drafted to support the Shroud.

  “Now,” he whispered, chewing on the inside of his lip, “if only I knew what the Shroud was.”

  It held back spirits—that was certain. And if it was thinning like Vinya had said, then the banshee’s appearance now made sense. Ion cringed as he recalled the words of the banshee’s figurine. Even the fake one knew his name. But I’m only twelve! And I want to see thirteen!

  Ion had had enough. Yes, the banshee had spoken his name...but now to find out what else she had to say.

  After a few days of searching, Ion decided that ghosts were harder to find than he previously thought.

  At first, he wandered through the darkest halls of the academy, stalking the slightest of noises and the shadows they had come from. Ion quickly learned he hated dark halls, and the slightest of noises in dark halls, and most especially, the slightest of noises that came from shadows in said dark halls. He knew he should have been studying instead, but he also knew Father would understand why he wasn’t—this was literally a matter of life and death!

  When he wasn’t busy chasing unseen mice around the academy, Ion spent hours in the Borean Study, searching through dusty books for anything that had to do with the banshee or the Shroud. But finding this anything proved to be difficult as well, especially when the books you’re reading have everything to do with something, but certainly nothing to do with your anything. And in trying to find this anything, Ion forgot about a very important, specific thing, which would quickly ruin his Wednesday.

  After Esereez finished up his lecture on modern human architecture (and how “very drab” it was), Ion and his sister headed off to Relics class. Once everyone had found their anvils, Vinya, who was bright and shiny in a tunic hued like a ripened lemon, smiled down from her podium.

  “Today is the day, my dears,” she said. “Please take out your very first relics,” where then Ion started choking on his tongue.

  Ion coughed, then squealed for air, then coughed some more, which was followed by Oceanus wailing on his back with her hand, screaming at him to “Breathe!” Finally, Ion’s tongue remembered what it was supposed to be doing, and his watering eyes cleared. He could now see all the dwarves and giants staring at him in horror. His cheeks went warm, and he placed a hand over his iron jaw, as though it would somehow make him disappear.

  “Are you okay, my dear?” Vinya asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Yup,” Ion croaked, feeling like he was going to be sick. “Just fine.” He snapped a glance over at Oceanus and whispered out the side of his mouth, “I forgot to do my homework.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course you did. When have you ever remembered?”

  Her necklace sat on the anvil, so clean and shiny and inviting. A bit of light twinkled off its sapphire and the tiny pair of glasses trapped within it. Ion moved his hand over the necklace, and Oceanus smacked it away.

  “Can’t we just share?”

  “I have never shared homework, and I’m certainly not going to start now!”

  “But I’m your brother!” he said. “I’d share with you!”

  “No you wouldn’t!”

  “Fine, no I wouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean you should be like me! Everyone knows you’re the nice one!”

  “Can it, oinker!” she said. “It’s my relic. Now go find someone else’s homework to steal.”

  Ion looked about the class. But there’s no one else’s to steal! A shadow fell upon him, and when he turned to his right, he stared, wide-eyed, at Vinya towering over him.

  “Is there something the matter, children?” she asked quite nicely.

  “No,” Ion said. “Nothing at all. Everything’s just fine—all good here—perfect and such—having a great time.”

  She glanced down at the anvil, where Ion’s necklace was supposed to be. “Where is your relic, Ionikus?”

  “Well,”—what do I do, what do I do—“I was”—lie, lie—“I forgot to fill it! I forgot to fill my necklace, and I’m so sorry, Lady Vinya! I really am! I really, really am! Please don’t give me detention!”

  Her smile loosened a bit. “Well,” she sighed, “I can’t say I’m pleased with this bit of news, but the world hasn’
t ended. I suppose you’ll just have to watch as the others present their relics. Perhaps next time you’ll listen a bit more closely to the instructions?”

  Ion swallowed and gave a nod. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

  All throughout class, Ion watched miserably from his anvil as the other students revealed what special abilities their relics possessed. Gertrude Stoneheaver’s toe ring gave her foot an extra dose of strength, which she explained was great for kickball sessions after lunch. The other giants erupted in a wave of excited whispers (they loved kickball), but because they were giants it sounded more like a wave of falling trees.

  The Thwart brothers came next, parading their silver bracelets around class, insisting that not only could the rings boost your ability to attract others, but they also doubled as true pieces of fashion—silver was “very much in, at the moment.”

  Oceanus presented her necklace afterward, explaining the sapphire could act as a microscope, magnifying to any degree. “It’s perfect for reading small-print books like Ezra and Eos’s Assertions and Predictions of the World in Thirty Volumes.”

  There was silence. A very unimpressed silence.

  But then Stryker presented his ring, which could shoot fire, and the class returned to its normal, excited self.

  At the end of the hour, after Vinya congratulated everyone on “doing as they were supposed to” in making “such amazing relics,” the Illyrian dismissed the students from class. Ion swung his satchel over his shoulder, and sluggishly made his way for the exit with everyone else, amazed at how heavy he felt.

  Is this what being irresponsible feels like? he wondered. After all, forgetting to do your homework wasn’t the biggest deal in the world, and certainly wasn’t a first for Ion, but Vinya expected more from him, and he could feel it.

  “Ionikus Reaves,” Vinya called over the chaos of leaving children. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

  Ion stood there, unmoving, while the last of the students filed out of the classroom.

  “Don’t be afraid,” said Vinya, her voice lower than usual. “There are certain things that need to be discussed. Things of great importance.”

  There were no other students around, but still Ion felt like a hundred eyes were watching him. Being alone with a teacher was just weird.

  “I’m very sorry about today, Lady Vinya,” he said.

  She smiled. “My dear, I fully understand. Everyone makes mistakes.” The goddess shooed away her bluebird friend and stepped down from her podium. “Care for a walk? Just through the fields?”

  “S-sure.”

  And so, for the first time, Ion strolled through the Jovian Fields. The sun felt lighter today, what with summer waning into autumn. Sunlight broke sparsely through the canopy of purple and pink leaves overhead, dotting the landscape in columns of radiant light. Ion passed under one, and the warmth washed over him.

  “The necklace you received in my class,” Vinya said, “do you have it with you now?”

  “Yes,” he replied, rifling through the guts of his satchel until the jewel was in his hand.

  He presented the necklace to her, but she kindly rejected it. “It’s not mine to bear. That necklace is yours now, my dear. And if I were you, I’d give it more attention than you’ve been willing to give.”

  “I know,” he said with a sigh. “I can’t even imagine what I’ll fill it with, though.”

  “That will come later,” she said. “I’m talking about how you care for that necklace. You can’t go about shoving it into your satchel with all those books! Future relics must be treated with kindness, Ion. Otherwise, when the time comes for them to be filled, they’ll reject what ingredients you give them. That rule applies most especially to your necklace.”

  Ion rubbed the cold face of the emerald, so unimpressed. “Is it special or something?”

  “You could say that, yes,” she replied. “For before that necklace was yours, it belonged to someone else. Someone you knew.”

  “Someone I knew?”

  “Very much so,” said Vinya. “And because of this, your necklace is considered to be an heirloom. If treated properly, an heirloom can be one of the most powerful types of relics.”

  Ion paused. “Who-who owned it last?”

  She looked thoughtfully up at the trees. They passed beneath another column of light, and the rays twinkled upon her shiny black hair. “I will only tell you if you can convince me that Ionikus Reaves is the best secret keeper on all of the island.”

  “I’m an excellent secret keeper!” he said. “The best! Seriously. I’m so good at keeping secrets I could be a professional secret keeper. It really could be a part-time job for me! Maybe even full-time…”

  “Good,” said Vinya. “Because that necklace was your mother’s.”

  The words came so fast and were spoken so plainly that Ion didn’t exactly know what to do with them. For a moment, he just kept walking alongside the goddess, listening to the grass crunch under his sandals, thinking about what she had just said to him. He stopped and cradled the necklace to his chest as though he wished it was a part of his skin.

  “My mother’s?”

  Vinya turned around and nodded. “It had been given to her long ago. After she died, I visited your house and retrieved it. Once I got word that you and your sister were going to be staying on the Acropolis, I knew it was my job to pass it down to one of its heirs. And it seems the necklace has chosen you.”

  “I’m not sure it chose me,” said Ion. “The other necklace had a sapphire and since Oceanus loves blue I sort of got stuck with this one.”

  “Fate is subtle, my dear. That’s a truth we all discover at some point in our lives.”

  “But wait,” said Ion, his eyebrows scrunched together, “how’d you know about the necklace? Did you...know my mother?”

  “Oh, absolutely!” said Vinya. “No mortal has ever impacted me the way your mother did. Why, before I met her, I was turning men into deer at least every day. But thankfully, she let me see how atrocious and selfish my behavior really was. Now I barely do it once a month.”

  “Where did you meet her?” Ion asked. “I mean, you’re an Illyrian—how did she even have access to you?”

  Vinya sighed. “Put quite simply: I had a mid-life crisis, where I just didn’t like being me. My three-thousandth birthday was around the corner, and I couldn’t have been more bored with my life. In search of a way out, I transformed into a human and lived amongst them, here on Eldanar, for a good fifteen years. I worked as a street sweeper—yes, a street sweeper—for most of those years, and on one of my worst days, after a thief stole four years of my savings, your mother appeared at my side and offered me a place to stay until I had worked back what had been taken from me.”

  Vinya’s eyes welled with tears. “She was such a great woman! So thoughtful, so endearing. She loved like no one else loved, Ion, and it was the truest, most powerful type of love. When I got word of her death…I…I cried for days! I don’t believe I’ve ever received such horrible news.”

  Ion swiftly wiped his eyes with the long sleeve of his tunic. He hadn’t talked about Mother to anyone besides Oceanus. “Wow,” he sniffed through tears. “I can’t believe she never told me about you.”

  “Well, she wasn’t allowed,” Vinya said. “When I revealed my true form to her, I made her swear to keep it a secret, even from her husband. For my appreciation of her love and kindness, I rewarded her with the necklace you have in your hands. It shields its bearer from a multitude of evils. I only wish she had been wearing it that day…”

  “Would she have survived?” Ion asked breathlessly, staring into the emerald of the necklace.

  “Well, I would like to think that. But fate is as curious a thing as it is subtle. Why else do you think Oceanus took the other necklace, leaving you with this one? I believe fate has tied this heirloom to you in quite a mysterious way, which one day might not be so mysterious.”

  She closed Ion’s fingers around the necklace in his hands. ?
??I’m glad you didn’t do your homework, my dear,” she said, smiling. “Filling a relic such as this should either be thought about for many, many years…or done as spontaneously as possible. I’d keep it close to you for whenever that opportunity presents itself.”

  The four-winged bluebird Vinya had shooed away after class came flapping into view and landed with a chirp on her shoulder. It leaned into her ear, and Vinya listened intently.

  “Yes…yes…oh my…” Gently, she placed her hand on Ion’s shoulder and said, “I must be off now, my dear. Can you find your way back to the fortress?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Now remember,” said Vinya, “there are many people who would love to get their hands on a necklace like that, so it’s imperative you keep its history under wraps, understand? Since you’re such a master of secret keeping, I’m sure we’ll have no issues?”

  Ion nodded, and with a wink, Vinya headed back to her classroom.

  “Keep it close to your heart,” she said, disappearing beyond a squall of maples. “At all times!”

  Ion left the Jovian Fields with a smile perched quite perfectly on his face. He ran his hand over the metal of his jaw. It had never felt so warm and light. With Mother’s necklace cradled in his other hand, Ion thanked Vinya.

  But for the few minutes he had forgotten about the Shroud, the banshee, the evil glares from Spike, and the Detainment, it all came shrieking back to him when he reached the top of the stairs to the Dorms. There he stood, unblinking, taking in the disaster that lay before him. The couches had been flipped across the room and impaled by hundreds of icicles. The chandelier hung slanted from the ceiling, and the head of the Othum statue had been cut clean off its neck.

  Ion heard a whimper, and there was Oceanus, doubled over beneath a small table across the room. Ion rushed to her side, and forced her hands away from her tear stained face.

  “W-what happened?” he asked.

  She was shaking with fear, but her face was frozen.

  “Come on!” he said. “What happened, Oceanus?”

  “Y-you were right,” she whispered. “It was no trick of the candlelight.”