by Laurie McKay
Caden looked up at him—in his suit and vest, he could pass for a well-dressed giant. “You’ve said you don’t always speak the truth,” he said.
As Ward was Manglor’s son, he turned and glared at Caden.
Tonya said, “He’s not a liar, Caden.”
“He once told me he was.”
“But if he was a liar,” Tonya said, “that wouldn’t be t-true.”
Tonya made a confusing case. Caden felt his brow crease. “But if he told the truth to me, the truth is, he’s a liar.”
Manglor motioned for them to quiet. His gaze settled on Ward. “About your safety,” he said, “I am sincere.”
That, Caden did believe, and Jasan considered Manglor an ally, one loyal enough to inform of the morning’s events.
Suddenly, the school intercom beeped. “Mr. Rathis,” Mr. Creedly hissed, “has an announcement.”
Caden and the others looked at the speaker.
Rath Dunn’s voice came on a moment later. “Dear students and faculty,” he said. “It’s my solemn job to inform you of the loss of one of our teachers. Mr. McDonald is gone, dead, lost to the river. But don’t let his death be in vain. Let us continue his work, our work.” He rattled on in a dramatic fashion. “Let’s get through this together. Those not with us will surely suffer alone.”
Just as he finished, someone knocked on the classroom door. Then Ms. Jackson glided around the room like a beautiful, aging wraith. “I’ve come to pay my condolences,” she said.
“Noted,” Manglor said. “Now leave.”
Ms. Jackson didn’t seem intimidated. She sashayed toward Mr. McDonald’s corner. “I’ve also come to collect his personal items.”
“That doesn’t seem like your duty,” Caden said.
“He has no one else. I do it as a last favor to my lost colleague,” Ms. Jackson said. “Isn’t it best that his belongings be useful to someone else? Hmm.” She picked up one of Mr. McDonald’s books. “Dead man’s tome.” She cackled. “Always a good find.”
The way she said it, it sounded like a spell ingredient. Caden felt his face heat. He clenched his fist. Mr. McDonald wasn’t a full day gone. Even a coward like him deserved some respect.
Manglor seemed to agree. “You should leave, witch.”
Why was she here, anyway? It seemed unlikely it was only to get Mr. McDonald’s book. She strolled back over and stopped in front of Manglor. “Careful, Summerlands Conqueror,” she said. Her gaze shifted from Manglor to Ward. “Get involved and you’ll risk losing something more precious to you than your life or your old kingdom.”
One thing Caden would never do was threaten Manglor. Even more foolish was to threaten his son. And Manglor had already chosen to be involved. Everyone in the room knew it. He stared down at Ms. Jackson like he wanted to crush her.
Ms. Jackson backed away, but she seemed unafraid. She paused bedside Caden. With flared nostrils, she sniffed the air. “I smell magic on you.”
When Rath Dunn had first suspected Caden was cursed, she’d sniffed Caden and said something similar. He held her gaze. “My coat is enchanted.”
Ward and Tonya watched. Manglor glowered at Ms. Jackson and stepped toward them.
Quickly, she leaned down and whispered in his ear. “No,” she said. “The scent is stronger at certain times of the month. Soon, I think, it will be at its most pungent.”
Had she figured out the timing of Caden’s curse? From how he smelled? Caden sniffed. Surely he smelled like nothing but royalty and the lilac bath soaps Rosa bought.
Manglor stood over them. “Leave the boy alone,” he said. “Or deal with me.”
She stepped toward the door. “Local lamb-and-turnip puree today for lunch,” she said, and she glided out the door. After she’d disappeared from view, her shrill cackle echoed in the halls.
In his mind, Caden counted the days until he was cursed again. The last time was the week between summer session and regular school. That had been the very end of August. A little over three weeks had passed since. The next cycle would be Wednesday of next week.
Had Ms. Jackson figured out the timing of his curse? If so, would she tell Rath Dunn? Caden hoped not, but she and Rath Dunn were allies. Then again, if she didn’t tell Rath Dunn, what would she do with the information? She blamed Caden for her siblings’ deaths. It made sense that she would want revenge.
“What was that about?” Manglor asked.
Brynne, Tito, and Jane knew of Caden’s curse. Ms. Primrose knew, too. Caden also had told Jasan. Beyond them, only Rath Dunn and Ms. Jackson suspected anything. Manglor didn’t know, nor did Tonya or Ward; and Caden’s forced compliance for three days of the moon cycle was one aspect of his life he didn’t want to share.
“Nothing I wish to discuss,” Caden said.
Caden learned more that morning in his literacy class than he had all last year. Manglor was a much better teacher than poor, dead, cowardly Mr. McDonald. Yet Mr. McDonald had been Caden’s teacher for a while. Coward or not, Mr. McDonald had yelled for help, and Caden hadn’t been able to save him. Caden hadn’t been able to save Scribe Trevor either. A cold, empty feeling settled in his stomach.
He pushed those thoughts from his mind and wrote an entire English paragraph about Sir Horace jumping a gate. He was so impressed with it that for a fleeting moment, his worried stomach settled, and he showed the paragraph to Tonya.
“That’s good,” she said.
“It is,” Caden agreed. “I’m going to take it and show Rosa.”
Tonya smiled. Ward and Manglor seemed not to care. Caden explained. “It’s rare I do something that makes her happy.”
Maybe if Caden pleased Rosa more, he would be allowed to stay with her. Then again, Jasan was Caden’s brother. Would it be better for everyone if Caden lived with his brother? His gut twisted again, and he cursed it. He shouldn’t be worried about living arrangements when dark spells were amuck.
As he switched from his literacy class to physical education class, Caden replayed the events of the morning. Maden had mentioned that all would be completed on his side. He said to be ready at dusk in three days. What was happening in the Greater Realm? How did what was happening there and what was happening here connect?
Caden didn’t know.
He felt a cold realization overtake him. There was someone at the school who could answer all his questions. The Elderdragon. She was one of the Elderkind. She knew all there was to know about spells and magic. Her knowledge far outshined Brynne’s, and Brynne’s magic sense was impressive. Last time he’d spoken to Ms. Primrose, however, she’d threatened him. But she would know. He was certain.
Caden hurried to the gymnasium. He needed to talk to Jasan before class started. A few strides before the entrance, he came face-to-face with Mr. Bellows, the sallow-skinned English teacher. He was the necromancer who’d stood on Rath Dunn’s right during the assembly.
“Caden,” Mr. Bellows said. “Too bad about McDonald. I heard you were there.”
Mr. McDonald had also stood beside Rath Dunn at the assembly. Now he was drowned. Caden raised a brow. “You should be cautious,” Caden said, “lest you be sacrificed next.”
Mrs. Belle, the science teacher, rushed by them on her way to class. “See you soon, Caden,” she said, and smiled. Of all Caden’s teachers, she was the nicest to him. Caden suspected that she and Mr. Creedly were allied against Rath Dunn.
After she’d hurried past, Mr. Bellows turned in her direction. “I’m not too worried. There’s plenty of useless prattle to feed that fire.”
Most of Caden’s eighth-grade class was already in the gymnasium and lined up. He saw Olivia and Tamera. Derek, Tyrone, and Jake stood in the back. Brynne was in the front. He didn’t see Tito or Jane.
Jasan stood under the basketball hoop. A portable whiteboard with intricate and precise drawings of exercises was positioned beside him. Since he was teaching with drawings, Brynne’s magic had worn off. His English was limited to what he’d learned.
One of the girls, Kali, raised her hand. Jasan pointed at her.
She read the whiteboard with a troubled expression. “Mr. Prince, is that what we’re doing today?”
Jasan seemed to understand. “Yes.” The resulting groans and disheartened pleas from the class seemed to please him.
Caden wasn’t sure why his classmates didn’t like Jasan’s lessons. They were challenging even for Caden and always provided a thorough workout fit for an Elite Paladin-in-training. He didn’t want to miss it, but needed to speak to Ms. Primrose. And as a teacher, Jasan could send him to her office.
“Hey.” Tito walked up beside him. Jane wasn’t with him.
“Where’s Jane?” Caden said.
“Rosa had to come get her. Something’s wrong with her eyes.”
Suddenly, a basketball zoomed between them. It hit the door frame—thunk—and fell to the wooden floor with a sad hiss. Tito glanced at the ball, then Caden, then across the gym to Jasan.
“Jasan doesn’t like it when people don’t fall in line,” Caden said. “He makes no exceptions for friends or brothers.”
“Yeah,” Tito said. “I got that. Let’s join everyone.”
“I have to talk to Jasan,” Caden said. He took a deep breath. “I need him to send me to Ms. Primrose.”
Tito shook his head. “Why? She hates you now, remember?”
“We had a disagreement.” Caden regarded Tito carefully. “She can help. And of all of us, I’m best at dealing with her.”
“I’m not sure that’s still the case,” Tito said. “She seems really mad at you, bro.”
Another basketball. This one grazed Caden’s cheek. Thunk. It plopped to the floor and flattened. “He’s going to hit us with the next basketball,” Caden said.
While Tito got in line, Caden went to Jasan, who regarded Caden coolly. “Join the others,” Jasan said.
Caden stood firm. “I want to talk to Ms. Primrose. She could help us stop them. It’s to her benefit.” He squared his shoulders. “I can convince her.”
Jasan considered him. “I don’t think she cares, Caden.”
How could she not? “She does. This is her school. Her treasure.”
“It’s Rath Dunn’s school.” Jasan pushed his hand though his hair. “Once taken, some things can never be returned the same.”
Was Jasan still talking about Ms. Primrose, or was he talking about himself and how his reputation and birthright had been tarnished? Caden concentrated. “But they can be returned.”
Jasan pushed the whiteboard to the front of the gym.
Caden kept talking. “She will know how to stop the spell. We just have to convince her to tell us. And she won’t eat me because of our pact.” He spoke quickly. Jasan always responded better to words spoken fast. “This is something I can do. She’s an Elderdragon. Her help might make the difference.”
If Jasan had known about Caden and Tito’s encounter with her, he’d never have agreed. But only Caden and Tito knew of that. Jasan peered at him. “You’ll be careful?”
“I will.”
Jasan grabbed a pink notepad and scribbled something on it. “Don’t make our situation worse,” he said quietly. Then louder and in thickly accented English, he added, “Report to . . . the . . .” Jasan seemed to have to think hard to bring out the words. “Vice principal’s office.” He signaled to Brynne, who had left the line to gather the basketballs Jasan had thrown. “You. Also.”
Brynne twisted her mouth into a pretty frown. “Me? Why?” She dropped the balls and rested her hands on her hips. Truly, she looked hurt. “I’ve never gotten sent to the office before.”
Jasan either didn’t care or didn’t understand. He gave her the pink note and switched to Royal Razzon. “After you speak with Ms. Primrose,” he said, “return here immediately.” He looked at Brynne and added in a lower voice, “Don’t do anything foolish.”
“We will act with courage and intelligence.”
“And not be foolish like you were this morning,” Jasan said.
As Caden and Brynne walked down the hall, she turned on him. “Why did you want to visit Ms. Primrose’s office?” It was cold enough that he saw her breath fog as she spoke. Her silvery eyes sparkled in the strange blue light. “She ate your scribe. I thought you decided you and she were enemies.”
That was all true, but with Caden’s curse set to recur once again, he’d begun to wonder if Ms. Primrose was also a victim. “Rath Dunn forced her to eat Scribe Trevor. Had she been in control, she might have chosen differently.” Besides, was it fair for Caden to judge her for acting like an Elderdragon when she was one? “We can’t expect thunder cattle not to charge.”
Brynne stared at him, mouth agape. “She’s not one of your pets, Caden. She’s not Sir Horace.”
“Sir Horace isn’t a pet.” But that wasn’t the point. This wasn’t about noble Sir Horace; this was about dragony Ms. Primrose. “We can’t expect her to act human. She’s not. But she’ll know about the spell. She probably even knows how to stop it. We just have to convince her to help us.”
“How?” Brynne said.
Caden crossed his arms. “By speaking to her like she’s a dragon, not an old lady.”
“Do you know how to do that?”
Caden shifted. “I hope so.”
“I hope so, too, prince.” Then her silvery eyes twinkled. “You know what occurs to me?” She didn’t give Caden time to answer. Instead, she started pulling items out of her sleeve: a piece of red candy, her magical hairpin/lock pick, a woolen Springlands concentration square, a pearl button, and a smooth purple quartz stone. “Dragons like treasures.” Everything but the button and the stone she magicked away somehow. “I think we should bribe her, prince. With something shiny.”
Ms. Primrose’s new office was a small room near the east side of the school. Unlike the principal’s office, there was no window. If there had been, it would no doubt have been covered in ice. The room was as cold as a Winterlands night.
The walls were blue, and it was probably the only room left in the school that hadn’t been painted red. The wooden desk was small. Half the room was filled with tall, neat stacks of boxes. They towered like the downtown skyline of Asheville at twilight.
Ms. Primrose stood beside her desk. Her arms were crossed. “Why are you here, dears?” Her tone was frosty. “You belong in class.”
Brynne was wide-eyed and shivering. She held out their note. “From Prince Jasan.” She opened her palm and held out the stone. “And from me.” She fidgeted. “I thought you might like it.”
Ms. Primrose took the note first. She let it hang from her fingers as if it were goblin snot. “It says you’re here to propose an alliance.” Ms. Primrose flapped the note in the air. “What have you done for me that I’d want an alliance? This is no reason to come and bother me.”
Brynne bit at her lower lip. “I didn’t want to come bother you,” she said.
Caden turned to Brynne and glared. Then he returned his attention to Ms. Primrose. If there was one thing Caden had learned from his and Tito’s earlier encounter, it was to remain sincere and flattering when speaking. He cleared his throat. “You are smart beyond measure.” Instead of seeming pleased, her expression turned from frost to ice. Caden plodded on. “We request your advice, ma’am. We wish to help the school, and the city. We wish to help you.” For a moment, he thought he saw a crack in her icy expression. He continued. “But first, we need to stop the villains.”
The moment passed.
Caden continued. “Rath Dunn and the others have begun the spell that will rip the city apart. We believe the second part is to be cast on Monday. We need to know how to stop them. And we need to contact our families in the Greater Realm to warn them. It seems dark deeds are happening there also.”
Ms. Primrose narrowed her strange pale eyes and took the stone from Brynne. She sniffed it. With a gnarled hand and nails like claws, she crushed it into a fine powder. “The time when you could gain my favor with flattering words and
pretty stones has passed.”
Her stare looked like it could have turned them to grave dust. Her skin looked like it was made of blue scales; her eyes turned reptilian. She smacked her lips.
“The more I eat, the more I grow accustomed to this . . . portly . . . figure.” It seemed she was still angry about that. “And the more I must feed.”
And she looked plumper still. Caden hadn’t seen any banishment lightning lately. But, now that he thought about it, the teachers’ lunch table seemed to have fewer members. Was Rath Dunn feeding her teachers? If he found reason to fire them from their jobs, he could do so.
Blue scales seemed to cover Ms. Primrose’s face. The silver one he’d seen near her ear was now as blue as the rest.
“With a pathway to your world open, there would be many I could devour. Those without contracts, agreements. Those not protected by ancient order and local birth.”
“The spell would likely destroy the school and the city,” Caden said.
“The locals gave my school to Mr. Rathis. They stole it from me. Why should I help those who steal my treasures?”
Caden couldn’t stay quiet. “Rath Dunn stole it.”
“They allowed it.” She stepped closer. “You allowed it.” Her gaze strayed from Caden to Brynne and back again like they were the finest of Autumnlands harvest dinners. “If the city falls, I could feast. I’ve been good for so long. I’ve had enough with moderation.”
Brynne’s eyes were saucers. Shakily, she produced the button. She offered it to Ms. Primrose as she had the stone before it. “Maybe you’d prefer a button,” Brynne said in a small voice. “It would match your dress.”
It did seem smarter to talk about Ms. Primrose’s collections and not all the people she believed she’d get to eat if the barrier between worlds fell.
Brynne kept her arm outstretched.
Ms. Primrose didn’t take the button. She huffed and gestured to the side of the room. Some of the scales on her arm were still silver. “What use is a button to me? My collections are in boxes.” She spat out the next word. “Boxes.”
