by Laurie McKay
Caden jumped up. Brynne was already in a fighting stance. The dragon’s nostrils flared and it cocked its head like it was deciding who to eat first—Caden, Brynne, or Sir Horace.
The chance to devour someone of royal blood seemed one the dragon could not resist. With a loud scream, it rushed Caden.
He deflected the brunt of the attack with the broken shovel handle. The wood splintered. Air whizzed by his face, cold and dry, and he flew over the sloping ground like a poorly aimed arrow.
Caden rolled head over feet. Sharp rock and icy shards scraped his elbows and knees until he stopped, sprawled in the snow and facing the heavens.
Stunned, he lay still. Sir Horace was at his side in an instant. He nudged Caden’s cheek with his soft muzzle. From uphill, the dragon screamed.
Brynne.
Caden scrambled to his feet. Sir Horace looked ready to charge, but his side twitched near the gash. Caden patted Sir Horace’s neck. “Stay back, friend,” he said, and grabbed what was left of his splintered shovel handle.
He ran back to the fray. Brynne stood in front of the dragon, wielding a large stick from the ground. The dragon’s head was down. Its tail twitched left to right, left to right as it prepared to strike.
With broken shovel handle raised, Caden dashed behind it and jabbed the splintered wood into its tail. It did no damage, but the dragon loosed a terrible screech and spun around, its mouth a sword’s length from Caden’s head. Its breath was cold—colder than the mountain—and smelled of blood.
“Get back! Get back!” Brynne ordered.
Caden had no choice but to obey just as the dragon lunged for him, its jaw tearing part of his pink shirt, its teeth coming so close to ripping his flesh that he felt the cold of dragon’s breath against the skin of his belly. He wished he hadn’t given Brynne his enchanted coat.
Suddenly he heard a roar, and the silvery half-light around them turned warm orange. The trees erupted with flame. The forest was on fire.
The dragon thrashed. It screamed at the flames. Caden dodged its tail and then its claws as it spun in frantic circles.
Brynne ran to him. Her large stick was alight.
“What did you do?” Caden cried.
“Pyrokinesis,” she said proudly. “Fire magic of the mind.”
A burning tree crashed down, and the dragon jumped farther away. It lifted its head, howled, and turned. With a flick of white scales and a spiked tail, it disappeared downhill into safety.
From the distance came an answering howl.
Caden felt his eyes grow wide, and he met Brynne’s equally shocked look. There were more of them.
Sir Horace whinnied, and Caden’s boots squelched in the slush as he and Brynne sprinted to him. The fire burned hot at Caden’s back and roared like a beast. “Stop the flames,” Caden yelled.
Brynne pursed her lips. She tightened her face in concentration. The large stick smoldered out, the tip dark with ash. She glanced to the red-flamed woods and jutted out her chin. “I put the stick out,” she said, like it was an accomplishment. “But I don’t think . . .” Her voice wavered.
“What about the rest of it?”
“Look,” she said. “I can’t do anything about the rest.”
Around them, the fire exploded. The smoke tasted acrid and thick. Sweat trickled down Caden’s brow.
Sir Horace pawed the mud and snorted. Caden’s horse was of the Galvanian Mountains, a stallion born to the snow, to the cold winters and ice of the Greater Realm. Fire upset him and now it surrounded them.
Neither Brynne nor Caden were gifted with speed and they needed to escape fast before the smoke overcame them. Caden patted Sir Horace’s neck. “Can you take riders?”
“Just get on the horse—don’t ask him,” Brynne said.
An order. Caden swung his leg over. Sir Horace stumbled but held strong. Brynne mounted behind Caden.
A second later, they galloped up the mountain. Sir Horace dodged and jumped burning branches, his hooves steady like a heartbeat on the slushy ground. They escaped the flames growing on the downward slope and rode toward the relative safety of higher ground. Above the smoke, the world returned to ice and snow. They stopped and turned back.
“The entire mountain’s afire,” Caden said.
Behind him, he felt Brynne tense. “I got rid of the dragon,” she said, and let go of him to wave at the flames below. “This was an accident. I meant it to be contained.”
Sir Horace took the opportunity to rear up and knock her off. Brynne glared from where she was dumped on the snow. Caden also got down. Sir Horace had been injured. He need not carry Caden’s weight now that they were beyond the fire.
Caden motioned down the other side of the hill, up and down the small slopes, and toward Rosa’s house. Despite his sore arm and scraped elbows, he felt a slow, hopeful smile spread across his face. “Dragons,” he said. What if instead of slaying one dragon, Caden slew two? Certainly that would impress his father and brothers.
Brynne scowled at him. “Do not go after those dragons. And why did Rath Dunn say they would stay outside the city limits? There’s no reason. They shouldn’t understand things like city limits.”
She was right, of course, but the dragons’ odd behavior didn’t change the fact that they were dragons. “They are a danger to all who might venture into the hills. It’s my duty to stop them. I just need my sword back.”
“Leave the dragons alone.”
The quest was important. It meant everything. “No,” Caden said.
Brynne blinked at him. “No?”
“No,” Caden said again. His eyes widened. He looked to the sky. The half-moon was waning, the night halfway through, and the compliance curse had broken. He grabbed Brynne and spun her around, laughing. “I’m free of your orders!”
“Until next month,” said Brynne, the destroyer of happiness and mountains.
A shrill screech sounded from the north. Caden grabbed Brynne’s hand and Sir Horace’s mane. “We must hurry.”
The first thing Caden saw when they stepped from the woods into Rosa’s yard was the flash of red and blue lights. Caden saw Tito watching from the attic window.
Despite the trouble, Caden felt lighter than he had in days. He could complete his quest, even while stranded in this strange land. He waved to Tito, but Tito seemed not to see him and didn’t wave back. In the yard, two figures stood with Rosa, one tall and skinny, the other short and stout—Jenkins and Officer Levine.
There was no reason to hide. They needed to get warm and it was unlikely they’d sneak into the house unseen. Even if they did, Caden’s absence seemed to have been noticed already. He called out to the policemen and Rosa. They turned toward him, Brynne, and Sir Horace.
Sir Horace neighed low and mean at Jenkins. Officer Levine shone his light on Brynne, then Sir Horace, and finally Caden. A moment later, the policemen and Rosa were running to them. Rosa stopped and stared at Brynne. Jenkins stared at Sir Horace. Sir Horace kept his suspicious glower on Jenkins.
The gash on Sir Horace’s side looked stark and bloody in the flashing lights. Caden squared his shoulders. His horse was brave and tough. He’d recover, but he needed care. Caden peered into the concerned face of Officer Levine. “My horse requires aid,” he said.
Officer Levine frowned like he didn’t know what to think. Caden pulled Sir Horace into better view and pointed to the wound. “We need a medic,” he said. The cold was biting, and Caden could not stop shivering. Beside them, Brynne grumbled something about injuries of her own, but she was the one warm in his magical coat. While Rosa and the police fussed and led them toward the warmth of the house, Caden felt his gaze drift back toward the hills. There were dragons in the mountains, and Caden would return to slay them.
From the living room window, Caden could see Sir Horace tethered to the porch. Jenkins stood back while the medic—Rosa had called her a veterinarian—approached his steed. She was young for a healer, tall and skinny, and had a long reddish braid trailing ou
t from her hat.
Officer Levine looked out over Caden’s shoulder. “Jenkins’s sister, Dr. Clara Jenkins,” he said. “She works with equine rescue. She’s good. Got a way with animals.”
The snow called to Sir Horace; the wind pulled him. He was a blizzard incarnate. She needed to be better than good.
She sat a black bag on the porch, pulled out an apple, and set it on the planks. Sir Horace licked his lips. By the time she’d produced a third apple, he was nuzzling her palm.
“Her way is bribery,” Caden said.
“A way’s a way. Now drink your cocoa. We need to talk.”
Caden didn’t drink his cocoa. He set it on the windowsill. “About what?”
“You snuck out, set a mountain on fire, and showed up with a pretty girl. About that.” Officer Levine sipped from a chipped brown mug. He nodded toward the kitchen where Rosa had taken Brynne. “I take it that other shelter was hers.”
“Yes.”
“You’re a little young to be running off with your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Caden’s shirt was ripped, his elbows scraped. Outside, the sky and snow glowed dull orange from the fire on the nearby mountain. “We are allies; we went to rescue Sir Horace and were attacked on the mountain.”
“Attacked?” Rosa came from the kitchen trailed by Brynne. “By what?”
“Maybe it was a bear,” Brynne said before Caden could say “dragon.” “You do have bears here?”
Rosa arched a brow. “Yes, we have bears. They don’t tend to do much this time of year, though.”
Brynne waved her off. “Obviously the creature was crazed. But it could have been a bear. Right, Caden?”
Neither Caden nor Sir Horace would have sustained injury fighting some Ashevillian bear. But he acquiesced. “Perhaps,” he said. “And in the mayhem, the mountain caught fire.”
Officer Levine looked between them. His gaze seemed to linger on Caden’s singed shirt sleeves and Brynne’s ash-covered face. “And how did the fire begin, exactly?”
In some lands, the punishment for burning down a mountain would be death by flame. From what Caden knew of Asheville, it was more likely fire safety training, but he didn’t want to risk either of them being tied to a pyre and burned to death.
“We defended ourselves,” Caden said. “You would have found our bodies ripped and bloody had we not. Look at what happened to Sir Horace.”
“What exactly did happen?” Officer Levine said, narrowing his eyes.
Caden opened his mouth to tell him. They’d battled bravely. There was no shame in that and very little in the out-of-control fire. Before he could speak, Rosa stopped him. “That’s enough,” she said. “I don’t want you talking to Caden right now, and she’s not answering any questions without her parents present.”
“Rosa, there’s a forest fire. I need to know—”
“They’re in no condition.” Rosa pulled Brynne closer and looked at Officer Levine with a glower that would make brave men waver. “Come back tomorrow. They need their rest.”
Officer Levine, to his credit, stayed his ground. “She’ll have to come with me while we get this sorted. We’ll need to call her parents—”
“Please,” Brynne said suddenly, widening her eyes and appearing an innocent girl in every way. She was a mistress of deception. “Please can I stay with Caden? My parents are away.”
“Away? Where?” Officer Levine said.
“I don’t . . . know!” Brynne said, and pretended to sob.
Rosa put her arm around Brynne. “That’s it,” said Rosa. “She’s staying here.”
“The side of a mountain burned,” Officer Levine said. “And she’s not one of yours.”
“There’s no evidence that she’s more than a victim.”
Officer Levine looked conflicted—like he wanted to give Rosa all she asked but couldn’t. He turned to Brynne. “I need the name and address of at least one of your parents, young lady.”
Brynne’s sobs got louder. Officer Levine asked her again. Still, she cried. It seemed to Caden that this was a poor attempt to avoid the question, but after a moment, it worked. Officer Levine placed his mug on the table and turned to Caden. “Do you know her parents’ names?”
Caden wouldn’t pretend to sob. Also, he’d speak the truth. “They are the famed spellcasters Madrol and Lyn. They travel, but most often they stay in the Springlands.”
Officer Levine rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighed, then grabbed his coat. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
“Bring my sword,” Caden said.
Neither Officer Levine nor Rosa acknowledged him. Rosa let out a deep breath. “Thank you.”
Caden followed Officer Levine to the porch. Caden spoke louder. “Return my sword.”
Officer Levine turned and pulled the keys to his cruiser from his pocket. “Sorry, son, not until a parent or guardian comes to claim it.”
Actually, that made things simple. “Rosa can claim it.”
Rosa called from the living room. “No swords allowed.”
There were dragons in the hills and villains at his school. Rath Dunn taught math and had possibly stolen Jane Chan. And Caden wasn’t properly outfitted. He felt his body vibrate with frustration. “I need it to fight the bears.”
“Too bad.”
Officer Levine got in his car and drove off. Rosa refused to do anything about the sword. Only the horse medic showed sympathy for Caden’s plight. Then Dr. Jenkins, sister of Officer Jenkins, explained to Caden that she wanted to send Sir Horace to a rescue center. “For rehabilitation.”
It sounded like a prison. “Sir Horace will not stay fenced,” he told her.
She brushed red wispy hair from her face. “They give the animals lots of apples.” Her smile was kind. “He’ll be in good hands, Caden.”
Caden hesitated. “This center, it’s in the city limits?”
“Yes, tucked away near the Biltmore Estate.”
Sir Horace leaned down and nuzzled Caden’s ear. He wouldn’t be safe running the mountains, not until the dragons were destroyed. Caden wasn’t certain Sir Horace would stay in a rescue center, though. “You’ll have to let him run each day.”
“I’ll make certain.”
As Caden reached to pat Sir Horace’s neck, the wound on his arm hurt, and he flinched. Dr. Clara Jenkins abruptly looked at Caden like she had been looking at Sir Horace. “I can check that for you.”
The next morning, Sir Horace had been taken to the horse prison, and Caden spent the hour before school answering Officer Levine’s questions with Brynne. Afterward, Rosa took him and Tito to school and sent Brynne back to bed to rest.
Frustrated, Caden wiped his pink locker, cursed number 12-4, with paper towels from the bathroom. He’d had no chance to train or track the ice dragons. After the mountain battle, he missed his sword almost as much as he missed his home. He inspected the locker and polished one corner. The number might be unlucky, but there was no reason for it to be unclean.
Tito watched and frowned. “I’m surprised you let them take your horse.”
“The medic recognizes Sir Horace for the fine stallion he is.” He caught Tito’s gaze. “Although, no Ashevillian horse prison will hold Sir Horace long.”
“You sure about that?”
Caden wiped down the door. “I know my horse. Adventure calls him.”
Tito rocked on his feet. “So. A bear, huh?”
Caden stopped cleaning and turned to him. Tito had been asleep when Caden was sent to bed, and Rosa had been hovering over them that morning. “Ice dragons. Two of them.” He was hesitant to admit the next part, but credit should be given where credit was due. “We might not have escaped them without the untrustworthy sorceress.”
“Right,” Tito said. “So, let me get this straight. Mr. Rathis—the math teacher and evil tyrant of your fantasy world—sent two ice dragons to kill you and your horse, and Brynne saved you by setting the mountain on fire?”
�
��She lacks control.”
Tito narrowed his eyes at Caden. “Okay. Let’s say whatever’s made you loco is catching, and I believe you. Why are we here where Mr. Rathis can find some new way to kill you instead of at home with the beautiful and powerful sorceress? Rosa would’ve let you stay home.”
“No one becomes an Elite Paladin by hiding in his or her guardian’s prison, and I don’t think he can hurt us in the city. He said it wasn’t allowed.”
“That vet put fifteen stitches in your arm. That looks like it hurt.”
Caden waved it off. “A minor injury.”
“Yeah, right,” Tito said. “So what do you really want?”
Caden looked at him. “I want to find out where Jane is, what Rath Dunn is up to, and who the she is that he’s afraid of. I want to slay a dragon and find my way home.” He slammed his locker. “And I want him to know he failed.”
“Or maybe, you just want to gloat.” The bell rang. Tito adjusted his backpack and shook his head. “Look, just stay out of trouble. I’ll see you in science.”
Caden placed his hand on Tito’s shoulder. “Stay brave. Don’t trust Rath Dunn. We will find your Jane.”
Like the day before, Caden attended his first class with Ward and Tonya. He put on his green earmuffs and waited. A symbol flashed onto the screen. The mystical voice said “A.” Another symbol flashed onto the screen. The voice said “B.” Then another and another.
Caden pushed back from his keyboard. He had a tyrant to outwit, an enchantress to save, and ice dragons to find and slay. He’d no time for this nonsense. This information wasn’t even different from the day before. He should be in the halls exploring. He should be questioning student and teacher alike. “What good is it to learn to read this language?” He said out loud. “There’s evil in this school.”
Tonya froze. Her fingers trembled on her computer keys. Like she felt a crypt devil’s burning breath on her neck, she glanced back. Caden followed her gaze. Mr. McDonald sat, tucked behind his book.
