The Villain Keeper

by Laurie McKay

  He’d seen the face in a portrait—a portrait his father had shown him that hung in the Hall of Infamy in the Greater Realm’s council halls. But the man had not been painted wearing a simple wool sweater and dark pants like he wore now. His body had been draped in the red war velvets of the armies of Crimsen and the Autumnlands.

  He bore a striking resemblance to Rath Dunn, tyrant of the Greater Realm and bringer of the red war, exiled to the vile Land of Shadow fifteen years prior, a sacrifice to the Gray Lady and her flesh eaters, doomed to fight each day for the barest of food and safety until he perished weak, alone, and humbled. His image was immortalized in the portraits so no man or woman in the whole of the Greater Realm would forget his horrible deeds or horrible fate. His image in the Hall of Infamy had looked cruel and mocking as it gazed from the portrait.

  If this man was Rath Dunn, he did not look weak or humbled. Yet he was dressed in the colors of Crimsen. He had the same scar, the same wolfish grin. His voice made Caden’s blood run cold.

  Regardless, Caden had enough sense to know that he needed to establish he was unafraid, deserved respect, and—like all the Ashevillian boys and girls in the room—in no way suspected that the man teaching math might be a monster.

  The bell tolled; the class ended.

  Alive and confused, Caden moved as fast as possible to the door. He needed to think about everything. He needed to find Brynne, throttle her for the curse, and tell her of the strange Rath Dunn look-alike at the school.

  “Caden. Stop,” Mr. Rathis said.

  Caden stopped, frozen in place, his compliance unbreakable.

  Mr. Rathis settled his large hand on Caden’s shoulder. “Glad to have you,” he said. “You’re a surprise, but I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  The other students hurried away. Only Tito remained, standing by the door and looking impatient.

  Caden had stopped long enough to satisfy the curse. “I should leave now,” he said. He did not know if this man was the villainous Rath Dunn or a mild-mannered impostor, but he preferred not to take any chances.

  He had one boot in the hall when Mr. Rathis called to him again. “One last thing.”

  Caden raised a brow and turned back.

  Mr. Rathis smiled like a wolf. “I like your coat.”

  With those words, Caden knew this man was no look-alike. This man was the great enemy of Caden’s family and kingdom. He hadn’t been banished to the Land of Shadow where he should have been; he was here, teaching math in Asheville, where Caden was stranded.

  The math teacher was Rath Dunn.

  Cowards fled; brave men made strategic retreats. Caden hurried from the school. Rosa’s orders “Come here” and “Get in the pickup,” however, kept him from fleeing to the hills.

  He climbed into the pickup’s backseat. He told her that Mr. Rathis was not as he seemed. He was to be feared. “He’s Rath Dunn, the tyrant of the Greater Realm.” He gave an abbreviated history of the man and his vile acts—the plague he’d unleashed on the land, the many dead by his hand, the rivers that ran red from the battles fought against him. “He must be stopped.”

  Beside him, Tito snapped his seat belt and looked confused. “From teaching math?”

  “From whatever terrible deeds he has planned,” Caden said.

  Caden’s seat rumbled as Rosa turned the truck’s key and the transport engine came to life. “Mr. Rathis is a good teacher,” she said. “Unorthodox, but good.”

  “He’s a monster—his skill with math does not excuse that.” He looked between Rosa in the front and Tito beside him. “We’re all in danger.”

  Instead of pulling out onto the road and away from the terror within the school, Rosa turned back and looked at him. “Why would you say that?”

  “His hands drip with the blood of good men and women.”

  “Math’s not that dangerous,” she said, a smile pulling at her mouth. She turned front, and finally drove onto the steep road. “Tomorrow will be better.”

  Tito shrugged. “I can help you with your homework.”

  Caden didn’t know what “homework” was and he had no inclination to find out. He cared that he’d been taken from his land and deposited in this place; he cared that a threat walked among the backward people of Asheville; he cared his life might end far from home long before he had slain a dragon and completed his quest.

  Caden’s father and brothers had defeated Rath Dunn fifteen years ago, after eight years of war. Caden would study, train, and fight until he was as good a man as them, until he was strong enough to face men like Rath Dunn. He wasn’t strong enough yet; he wasn’t even an Elite Paladin yet. Rath Dunn—Mr. Rathis as he was calling himself—would destroy him.

  With a thunk, Caden leaned his forehead against the window. “I can’t stay here,” he muttered.

  Sadly, that Rosa took seriously. “You will stay,” she said. “And you’ll go to math class tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow, then, Caden would die. His father would never be proud of him. Without Caden to slay a dragon, one more would prowl Razzon, devouring hapless villagers, stealing jewels and trinkets of value, and burning thatched homes.

  When they got back to the house, Caden went to the attic room and barricaded the door. He sat on the floor and watched as the light from the windows faded from afternoon to evening. He and Brynne became stranded in the land at the same time Jane disappeared. Now, it seemed, Rath Dunn—the Greater Realm tyrant—had been Jane’s math teacher. Was there a connection?

  At nightfall, Tito pounded on the door. “You done sulking?”

  Sulking? Caden was most certainly not sulking. These were his last hours of life. He was trying to make sense of why he was here while preparing for death. He would die bravely. He hoped.

  The doorframe shook. “It’s my room, too,” Tito said.

  Across the black tape, the purple bed was unmade. Books were scattered on the floor. The rugs were covered with wrinkled clothes. Caden stood and brushed off his jeans. He turned his nose at the mess. “Then you should be able to break the defenses. And clean it up.”

  “Let me in before I get Rosa.”

  Caden wanted to say no. He wanted to say something snide about the quality of Tito’s training, but it was an order. Frowning, he walked over, unblocked the door, and opened it.

  Tito was a picture of steely irritation. “Rosa’s decided to keep you,” he said, pushing past Caden into the room. “Despite the crazy.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ll likely die tomorrow,” Caden said.

  “Well,” Tito said, and flopped down on his bed. “I guess we’re stuck together until then.”

  “You mock me,” Caden said. He settled on his neatly made pink and orange bed and crossed his arms. “I’d prefer to prepare for my death in silence.”

  “Look,” Tito said. “We need to make nice. We’re stuck here together until you manage to get committed or Rosa kicks us out.”

  “Or we die,” Caden said.

  Tito threw his arms out. “All right, fine, or that. So tell me, your craziness, why do you think you’re going to die tomorrow?”

  “Rath Dunn—your Mr. Rathis—is the enemy of my family, my kingdom, and all the good peoples of the Greater Realm. I’m the youngest son of the man who banished him. He’s killed for much less.”

  Caden waited for Tito to brush off his concern, but he seemed to be listening this time. Listening, however, didn’t necessarily mean believing. Tito raised his brows and wrinkled his nose. “Well, he didn’t kill you today.”

  Caden had not considered that. His heart still beat; his blood still pumped. “Your point?”

  “So, maybe he won’t kill you tomorrow.”

  It was a good point. Why had Rath Dunn let Caden walk away? When the most evil of the Greater Realm were banished, they were often sent to their deaths with a token of their deeds. According to council record, Rath Dunn had been banished with his blood dagger, magic item number forty-three. It was an evil blade. A wound made with it would neve
r fully heal, and would reopen in its presence. He could have sliced him to wriggling prince bits where he’d sat.

  Was he that flippant about Caden’s abilities? Caden wasn’t a match for Rath Dunn yet, but he was capable. To leave Caden with air in his lungs and fight in his heart was the worst of mistakes. From what Caden knew of Rath Dunn, he didn’t make mistakes. Although, Rath Dunn was also supposed to have died horribly after banishment to the land of shadow, and not to have been in the odd land of Asheville teaching math, so perhaps what Caden knew wasn’t exactly correct.

  Did Rath Dunn have something to do with why Caden and Brynne were stranded? Perhaps he wanted revenge against their parents? Though, why would he grab Caden, youngest son, and not one of the others? Their loss would hurt the kingdom more. Why Brynne? As far as Caden knew, Rath Dunn knew nothing of Brynne’s parents’ role in bringing him to justice and banishment.

  Caden shifted, uncomfortable with his thoughts. “I don’t know why he let me live.”

  “Don’t sound so disappointed,” Tito said, and cocked his head. “Bro,” he said, “are you upset he didn’t kill you?” He sat beside him. The pink and orange quilt pulled from its tuck, and Caden tried not to let it annoy him. “He’s just following school policy.” Tito’s face twitched like he was trying not to quake with laughter. “No killing allowed.”

  As long as Caden lived, he would fight. He would warn those at risk. He reached across to fix the quilt and caught Tito’s gaze. “He’s the enemy.” Jane Chan had also been in Rath Dunn’s math class. All these things could be connected. “Before she went missing, did Jane seem suspicious of him?”

  Tito’s mirth fell away. “Leave Jane out of your delusions.”

  Jane might be their best chance to find out why Caden and Brynne had been trapped in Asheville and why Rath Dunn was alive and teaching math. She was a connection to both. “Perhaps she ran away because she learned who he was?”

  Like Tito couldn’t contain the words, he blurted, “Jane wouldn’t run away!”

  The fierceness of Tito’s words caught Caden off guard. He studied his new foster brother. “When I was captured, the policeman Jenkins called her a runaway.”

  Tito fidgeted, and the quilt came untucked again. “Her clothes and backpack are gone. The police think she ran away. Rosa does, too.”

  This was why Tito was angry.

  “But you don’t believe it.”

  Tito looked to the floor. “I don’t know what I believe.” Caden recognized the pained waver of his words and the heaviness of his tone. His father and brothers sounded that way whenever the first queen was mentioned.

  Jane was Tito’s friend. Tito needed to know what Caden knew. He needed to be part of the quest to find her. If Caden perished, Tito could fight the dark happenings that seemed to be going on and could protect his dragonless people.

  “Mr. Rathis is Rath Dunn. He is a monster.” Caden stood and nodded to the window. Maybe Jane had run away; maybe her disappearance was more sinister. He thought of the strange whispering in the woods and the trap where Brynne had gotten stuck. There seemed to be some magic in Asheville, after all. “There’s a nature trap set on the mountain,” Caden said. “Maybe it is related to her disappearance. That’s where we should look for clues.”

  Tito scrunched up his face. “A nature trap?”

  “An ensnaring magical clearing,” Caden explained.

  “Right, the math teacher’s evil and magic took Jane.” Tito shook his head. “Come on, bro. It’s hopeless.”

  “Magic brought me here at the same time she disappeared. The enemy of my people was her math teacher and now is mine. You don’t find that significant?”

  Tito’s expression became defeated, his lopsided face more asymmetrical. “I don’t really believe magic brought you here or that Mr. Rathis is evil.”

  Caden peered out the window. It wasn’t too far a climb to the ground. “You have no other leads,” he said, and opened the window. “I’m right and I can prove it.”

  Maybe Caden’s quest hadn’t stalled the moment he found himself in Asheville. Maybe it was gaining meaning, gaining momentum.

  They climbed out the window on the left of the room, the one with the sturdy-looking drainpipe near to it. The night was dark sky and bright half-moon. The drainpipe was cold in Caden’s grasp and groaned under his and Tito’s combined weights. Full water bottles hung at Caden’s hip, poor Ashevillian “plastic” replacements for his sword.

  “We should’ve snuck out through the house,” Tito whispered.

  “No, this is more challenging.” Caden tapped the pipe. It dinged like a bell.

  “Shhh!” Tito said. “If Rosa finds out about this, she’ll flip. I’m supposed to be helping you adjust, not feeding your delusions.”

  “You risk banishment to save your friend,” Caden said. “That’s honorable.”

  Tito’s huff fogged the air. “Or stupid,” he said. “I don’t want to get sent away.” Then more quietly, “I like it here.”

  Caden slid down the pipe. Tito careened into him a second later. They tumbled into the grass, side by side, dirt and stray brown blades of grass stuck to their arms and faces. Again, the drainpipe groaned. Then there was a pop, pop, pop—like arrows hitting a wall. The pipe tipped like a downed tree and hit the earth between them with a muted squish.

  Caden stared at the pipe. Tito stared at the pipe. Around them, the night was quiet.

  “I never should have agreed to this,” Tito muttered.

  Caden stood and reached across to help Tito to his feet. “I doubt we’ve been compromised. It didn’t make much noise.”

  Brown leaves nested in Tito’s hair. He toed the pipe with his foot. “We get caught, you’re taking the blame.”

  Caden had no choice—not when Tito said it like that—but he cared not. He pulled a piece of wet brown grass from his cheek. “Follow me,” he said.

  As they hiked up the dark trail, Caden pointed out the large hoofprints near where the forest began. “He runs with the winds. He’ll return soon enough.” Caden then explained about his horse, the quest his father had sent him on, and the mischief that had trapped him there.

  “So you have to slay a dragon?” Tito said.

  “Yes,” said Caden.

  “There are no dragons, bro.”

  Caden peered at the dark woods around him. “Not here, no.”

  “Not anywhere.”

  Caden had no time to argue the obvious. “There’s another thing,” he said.

  “There’s more?”

  It was a risk to trust Tito with this information, but they did share a common goal—to find out what had happened to Jane. And a room. The social workers had proclaimed them brothers, even. “Brynne cursed me. With compliance.”

  Tito shone his flashlight at Caden’s face. “Brynne. The magical girl who comes out of nowhere and can’t be trusted. Right.”

  Caden frowned. “For two days,” he explained, “I must follow any order given to me.”

  Tito cocked his head. “Anything?”

  “That’s right,” Caden said.

  “So if I ordered you to be my personal slave you’d do it?”

  “Not if you want to survive once the curse breaks.”

  Tito was far too quiet for a moment. “Bark like a dog.”

  Caden was going to throttle him. He opened his mouth to say as much and a deep-throated growl emerged, followed by a high-pitched “woof, woof” that echoed in the hills.

  Tito laughed.

  If forced to sound like a dog, Caden would attack like one. He bared his teeth and pounced. Tito dodged. He was quick for a peasant.

  “Hey, man, you can’t blame me for testing it out. Once you’re medicated I doubt you’ll be any fun. Now, meow like a cat.”

  Caden lunged for him, fists clenched, hissing low and mad. “Meow, meow. Meow!”

  “Stop.”

  Caden stopped, his fist mere inches from Tito’s smiling, moonlit face. “This will wear off in a few days�
��you should consider that,” he said. Suddenly, Caden had an idea. “You could order me not to go to school tomorrow.”

  “Rosa’s gonna make you go.”

  “Order me not to.”

  Tito sighed, and his breath fogged the dark air. “Um. Okay. I order you not to go to school tomorrow. Feel better?”

  “I still feel like I’m going to go.”

  “Sorry, man. I tried.”

  Understanding the rules of his curse meant Caden could better handle it. “Her order was first,” he mused, “so it must stand.”

  “Yeah,” Tito said. “And she’s in charge, too.”

  They continued up the mountain. It was good to talk to Tito, even if Tito lacked faith in Caden’s sanity. Since embarking on his quest, most of Caden’s conversations had been with Sir Horace or Brynne.

  While Sir Horace was a great steed, his replies mainly involved neighing, stomping, and, on one notable occasion, wriggling on his back in a field of magical happy flowers.

  Conversations with Brynne tended to end in curses. There was something to be said for two-way conversations without the threats of tails, wings, horns, or, most recently, compliance.

  Truth be told, he preferred a disbelieving ally to one who cursed him. Brynne, though, was much easier on the eyes.

  Despite the earlier rain, the strange sand of the clearing remained bright under the half-moon; the firs, pines, and bare oaks were a dark fortress around it. Magic was always easier to see under moonlight, easier to avoid. Jane had disappeared when the moon was brighter and fuller. If she’d encountered the sand trap, she’d likely have noticed something was strange. Although being Ashevillian, perhaps she didn’t understand the danger.

  “It’s weird here,” Tito said, and pulled his arms to his chest. “I’ll give you that.”

  Brynne was nowhere in sight. “Be on guard. Brynne will be here soon,” Caden said.

  Caden squatted at the trap’s edge, noted the lack of hoofprints, and sighed in relief. Sir Horace was too wily for such a trap. He reached out and ran his hand through the dry sand. It stuck to his skin like crumbled brick.