The Shadow Prince

“What’s with all the stuff?” I ask him, trying to turn the topic off my ineptitude.

 

“Oh yes. I come bearing gifts. Every Champion needs his special tools,” Dax says, pulling several things out of the bags and placing them on the table. There’s more strange clothing, like what I was made to change into before passing through the gate, plus belts and a couple of pairs of shoes.

 

“New wardrobe makes the man,” Dax says. “These clothes are more up-to-date with current fashion than what you’re wearing. You’ll fit in just right around here. Well, at least in appearance.”

 

I nod. Blending in would be good for recon. I need to study Daphne’s movements, just like I did with that hydra I hunted down last year for the Feast of Return. I stalked its movements for days. I knew its favorite places to go. Where it ate and slept. Where it was most vulnerable … before I made my move.

 

Dax reaches down into the depths of the last bag. “Now don’t lose these,” he says, handing me three small cards made out of a thin, hard material. Two have my picture on them, and the other has a long set of numbers. “Two IDs and a credit card. This ID says you’re sixteen; the other one says you’re twenty-one. You’ll never know when which age will benefit you more. The credit card is how you pay for things. Simon set up the account and will handle the bills—which means he’ll know about everything you spend money on. Got that?”

 

I nod.

 

“Now, this,” he says, “is going to be your most important weapon of all.” I expect maybe he is going to bestow on me some kind of enchanted sword or maybe even some poison-tipped arrows, but instead he pulls out a thin, black rectangle with a reflective screen. It looks almost identical to the white communication device I’d found in Daphne’s bag.

 

“What is that thing?” I ask, pretending that I have never seen anything like it.

 

“It’s an iPhone,” he says. “And it’s the most important tool you’ll need in the mortal world.” He slides his finger across the screen and the thing comes to life. He presses on the different icons, and shows me the functions of the device. “They’ve improved since the last time I was here. It’s so fast. And so thin.” He almost sounds as giddy as Simon. “Its primary function is communication. Somewhat like the talismans the Court uses, except it only transports your voice, not an astral projection of yourself.”

 

I nod. I’ve heard the Heirs speak of their communication talismans but I’ve never actually seen one. I doubt they look anything like this iPhone object.

 

Dax hits a few icons and then scrolls through what looks like a list of names. He finds his own name and then a few seconds later, a ringing noise comes from his pocket. He pulls another iPhone out and shows it to me. “See, you need anything and all you’ve got to do is hit my name and it’ll call me. We can talk, no matter how far away, through these.

 

“However, this next feature is the most important.” He clicks on an icon that says YouTube and holds the phone up in front of me. “You know how we are taught to learn? Someone demonstrates and then we repeat his movements?”

 

“Yes.” The Underlords are natural mimics. We learn by repeating what we see or hear, absorbing the ability to do just about anything in a matter of hours. Some of us—including myself—can master any new skill in a matter of minutes. It’s how I’ve excelled in my lessons. Humans don’t have the same accelerated ability, I recall, according to Master Crue’s many lectures.

 

“Well, the same watch, absorb, repeat method also applies to recorded videos.”

 

“Videos?”

 

“I’ll show you.” Dax taps icons of letters, spelling out the words how to juggle. “We’ll start with something easy.”

 

I watch as a prepubescent boy with a face full of pus-filled lesions appears on the screen. He holds three round objects in his hands. I listen and absorb as the boy demonstrates how to juggle the objects. When the demonstration ends, Dax hands me three apples from the bowl on the table.

 

“Try it,” he says.

 

I picture what I have just watched in my mind, and mimic the boy’s actions, movement for movement, and juggle the apples perfectly on the first try.

 

Dax nods in approval.

 

“Child’s play,” I say, placing the apples on the table. “How will this help me?”

 

“Juggling won’t help you much. Not unless Daphne has a thing for clowns, but you can pretty much learn how to do anything using this application.” He picks up one of the apples and takes a bite. “There are many gaps in your education.”

 

“I’ve noticed,” I say under my breath.

 

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