The Villain Keeper

by Laurie McKay

  Caden ignored him and pulled away. “Two,” he continued and raised the middle finger plus one. “He’s agreed to investigate the school.”

  “He didn’t agree to investigate,” Tito said.

  “He’ll investigate,” Caden said. He tried to think back to the phrase Jenkins had used in the park. “No stone unturned.”

  “He won’t tell us what he finds out.”

  “True,” Caden said, “but he might rattle whoever is involved. If nothing else, Brynne with all her wicked ways makes for an excellent spy. We can ask her to snoop about. She would be thrilled to do so.”

  At her mention, Tito glanced around the room. “Where is Brynne?” he said.

  Caden heard knocking upstairs, as if someone was tapping their foot against the floor. He headed for the stairs and toward the direction of the sound, toward where he suspected he’d find Brynne. “Up to no good, no doubt,” he said.

  The girls’ bedroom was now unlocked, and Brynne was staying in it. The walls were sunny yellow, the ceiling was high, and the large window was framed with billowy curtains. A bunk bed was pushed against the side wall, and both the top and bottom beds were covered in pink and white quilts.

  Brynne was hunched over a small desk. Her long dark hair hid the top. She turned when they walked in. “Did you discover anything about Jane?” she said.

  She still looked like a sorceress, although her clothes were Ashevillian—dark jeans and a long silvery sweater. She’d thrown a steel-gray coat over the armchair. Surrounded by the rustic charm of the room she looked like a sleek dagger lost among the kitchen knives.

  Suddenly, Caden’s moss-green shirt felt scratchy. His jeans seemed thin. He was certain Brynne’s expensive-looking clothes came from the same market as his colorful yet cheap ones. “You’ve magicked yourself,” he said.

  Beside him, Tito was frowning, but he wasn’t looking at Brynne and her magically enhanced clothing. He was staring at the walls like he expected to see another person in the room. Quietly, he said, “Mr. Rathis says Jane will be dead by the new moon.”

  Brynne looked alarmed. “So it is Rath Dunn who took her?”

  Caden shook his head. “He claims he only knows something about who did.” He inspected the room more closely. There wasn’t much in it other than the furniture and Brynne’s things. He ran his hand along the bed frame. There, carved in the wood, was another tree. Truly, it looked like the Walking Oak; and the room had a comforting feel. He pointed it out to Brynne.

  “I saw it,” she said. “And she is an enchantress. For answers, we need to find her.”

  Caden nodded. “There’s more,” he said. “Rath Dunn called Asheville the Land of Shadow and said the other twenty-four teachers are those banished like him.”

  Brynne drew her brows together and frowned. “This is no realm of eternal torture and death.”

  “Yet Rath Dunn is here.” Caden continued and explained the events of the day—the encounter with Ms. Primrose and later with Rath Dunn. “Ms. Primrose controls him, and the other teachers, too, I think.”

  Brynne turned to Tito. “Could she have taken your Jane?” she said.

  It was a good question, and Caden didn’t know the answer. What type of being would make Rath Dunn teach children math? His reputation for malice was unequaled. Caden sat on the bottom bunk and sighed. The same type of being that would put witches in charge of school lunch, he supposed.

  “She didn’t seem interested in Jane’s disappearance. I’d have thought a kidnapper would have behaved differently, but I don’t know.” Caden smoothed the pink quilt. “I don’t know what she even is.”

  Brynne scrunched up her face. “Maybe she’s a sorceress?”

  “I don’t think so.” Caden shook his head. “You’re a sorceress, and it’s clear you do magic all the time. I didn’t get that from her.” Caden thought hard. “When she got irritated the room turned cold. She felt bigger than she looked. I don’t think she’s human.”

  Brynne stood and walked over to him. “But she looks human? She can take human form?” Her eyes grew wide with worry. “Maybe she’s a swamp doppelgänger? Or a fright demon. Cold follows them.”

  “She smells of roses, not sulfur. She’s not a swamp doppelgänger. And fright demons don’t talk. She talks like a stern old lady and collects trinkets.” He paused. “Sometimes, I think she has silver and blue scales.”

  Brynne frowned. “So, maybe she’s one of the lizard people?”

  “The lizard people look like people-sized lizards. And they live near fire and flatlands.”

  Tito had been quiet, solemnly lurking around the room and staring at the bed, then the window, then the desk. Suddenly, he froze.

  “Have you found something?” Caden said, and stood up.

  Tito nodded. He reached behind the desk lamp and reverently pulled out a blue device Caden recognized as a cell phone.

  “Oh,” Brynne said, and she sounded proud. “That’s mine.”

  Tito gaped. “Rosa let you get a phone?”

  “Not exactly.” Brynne picked up her coat and reached into pockets hidden within and pulled out two more cell phones. “I got three.”

  “Rosa let you get three?” Tito seemed to be growing rightly suspicious.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Caden said with a sigh. “She stole them.”

  Brynne beamed and looked from Caden to Tito. “Indeed, and it was no easy feat. Your guardian is of strong mind and sharp eye. I swiped them from the market while she spoke to the shopkeeper.”

  Tito went still like he awaited a lashing. “Did you cast a spell on her?”

  “I wouldn’t do that to Rosa.”

  Tito motioned at Caden. “You did it to him.”

  She looked away for a second as if hit with a wave of guilt, but when she turned back she said, “He deserved it.”

  Tito looked pensive. “Yeah,” he said, “I can see that.”

  Did they not understand what such a curse meant to someone like Caden? It could ruin his life. It could end it. He felt his face flush, and his musings on lizard people and powerful old women faded away. He clenched his fist at his side so as not to hit either of them.

  With much control, he stood and turned to Tito. “Perhaps I should have pulled Brynne from the trap sooner, but I deserved no such curse. If Rath Dunn finds out . . .”

  Caden shook the words away. Rath Dunn wouldn’t find out. Then something else occurred to him that made his stomach churn and his heart sink. If the teachers were all villains, what would happen if any of them found out? Or Ms. Primrose? She seemed to like to keep villains as schoolteachers, and that didn’t bode well for her morals.

  He jabbed Brynne’s shoulder. “You will find a way to break the curse.”

  For a moment, he thought she would again say it was impossible, or tell him she was about to break his jabbing finger. Instead, she held out one of the phones—the pink one—like a peace offering. “Of course, I will,” she said with a dazzling smile. “Besides, I brought you a phone, prince. It’s like a communication spell without all the blood and phoenix feathers.” She pointed to one of the buttons. “Hit this one and you and I can talk.”

  Instead of taking the phone, he stepped back. “I know what it does.”

  “Take it,” she said.

  “It’s stolen,” he said.

  Tito held up the blue phone and peered at it. “You have to pay to activate and use these.”

  “They’re prepaid, peasant,” she said.

  Caden could stand no more. What did Brynne mean by “prepaid”? He waved his hands around the room to capture the extent of the strange land, strange people, and strange tech, to emphasize that Brynne was as much a foreigner as him. “What do you know of prepaid phones?”

  “Bro, relax,” Tito said. “You look like a helicopter.”

  Caden didn’t know what a helicopter was but he was certain he looked nothing but regal and appropriate. Also, he would not relax. “No,” he said, and pointed to Brynne. “Tell me ho
w you know about these things.”

  She put her hand on her hip like she actually found him frustrating. “I’m starting to regret stealing you a phone, Caden.” She attached her phone to a white cord and plugged it into the wall. “Listen,” she said. “Sorcery takes study and training; understanding the tech of this world takes study and training. Sorcery takes inner power.” She motioned to the wall outlet. “This technology requires outer power.”

  Caden saw little resemblance between the sorceress and the square phone. “You claim this tech is similar to your magic?”

  “The tech is the magic of Asheville, and I’m good at magic.” With a snotty tone, she added, “If you had any magic at all, you’d understand.”

  Caden couldn’t do magic, but he had studied it. “I understand that magic drains, and you’ve cast a lot of spells lately.”

  Even the most practiced sorcerer or sorceress would fall if he or she used too much magic at once or without proper rest. He peered at his wicked friend for a moment. She’d set the mountain ablaze the night prior. Her spells to understand seemed to work well, but they weren’t curses. He had no idea how often she had to cast them. Weekly? Daily? More than that? Under the beauty and attitude, she looked a bit thin, a bit frailer than usual.

  “Don’t overdo it,” he ordered with all the authority that came with his birthright.

  The words seemed to echo in the tall room. Her silvery eyes shone with outrage, but she said nothing. It was possible magic overuse already affected her.

  “I mean it,” Caden said. “You’ll make yourself ill.”

  She looked down, tapped on her phone, and smoothed her sweater. When she finally finished fixing her perfect clothing—and she certainly should not be using magic to enhance her appearance—she’d mustered up enough indignation to project only that.

  “If you don’t want the phone, don’t take it,” she said. “If I need to contact you at school, I’ll text Tito.” With a shrug, she added, “You wouldn’t be able to read it anyway.”

  Tito glanced between them, then at the phone in his hand. “You know, Brynne,” he said, “Rosa’s going to make you go to school, too.”

  “No one’s going to make me do anything,” she said, and gave Caden a piercing look to make sure he understood that included him.

  Tito looked doubtful and stuck the stolen phone in his back pocket. “We’ll be able to communicate better this way. The phones aren’t ideal, bro, but they might help.”

  Caden did not take a phone. An Elite Paladin shouldn’t condone stealing. An Elite Paladin’s allies shouldn’t include thieves. Above all else, Elite Paladins were honorable. He stomped out, slammed the door, and tried not to think about how disappointed his father would be with his choice of friends.

  Annoyed, he went to search the house for a Korvan battle staff. He needed to practice and focus. He needed to lead Tito on the path of the Elite Paladin before he was further corrupted by Brynne. Soon, he suspected, she was going to try to teach Tito some magic. Yes, Tito’s Paladin training needed to start right away. Rummaging in the kitchen pantry, he found a good-weighted broom.

  The broom needed to be cleaned, but he took it to his attic room. He didn’t even bother to remove the broom’s bristles before he swung it around in battle formation four. When he’d worked his way up to formation eleven, Tito sulked into the room. He sat on his bed between his piles of books. “Hey, thanks,” Tito said, and didn’t sound grateful at all.

  Caden paused. “For what?”

  “Rosa spent the last hour telling me how striking and handsome I am.”

  “She believes that.” Caden returned to his practice.

  He was annoyed at Tito for taking the phone, and he missed his brothers and father. They’d know what to do in this situation. They’d know the honorable way to act. He turned away so he could see out the window and twirled the broom above his head. The mountain looked cold, the ice on the trees sharp. Jane had been kidnapped out there; she remained missing among the snow and dragons. She was an enchantress lost among villains.

  “You know,” Tito said, “Brynne said there’s no way your father sent you on a quest alone.”

  Caden flipped the broom back into the air. Brynne knew nothing about Caden’s father. She and Tito had no right to talk about him. He executed a forward strike with the broom and ran his pillow through. The pillow mushed in defeat. “She’s wrong.”

  Tito made some small talk, but Caden ignored him. Finally, he heard Tito sigh—a loud and exasperated sigh. “So,” Tito said, and motioned to Caden as he performed attack formation eight, “you gonna teach me to do that or what?”

  Caden felt some of his anger drain. Of course, he’d known that Tito would agree to train. He turned and nodded. “Your journey begins here,” he said. “One day, you will become a great Elite Paladin.”

  “Uh-huh,” Tito said. “Just teach me to twirl the broom.”

  He reached for it, but Caden pulled it away.

  “I have to knight you first,” Caden said. “Those who choose the path are given a title.”

  Tito scrunched up his face. “So you’re a knight already? I thought that’s why you wanted to slay dragons.”

  For one so smart, Tito could be quite dense. Caden spoke slowly. “I’m a prince. That’s my title. The honor of Elite Paladin can only be earned.” Caden readied the broom. “Now, kneel, peasant, so I may knight you.”

  Tito looked skeptical. “You’re going to use that?”

  “The police stole my sword,” Caden said. Tito remained standing. He squinted at the bristly end of the broom. Caden was doing his best here. He raised the broom like a ceremonial sword. “Stop being fussy and let me proclaim you Sir Tito of Asheville.”

  “I’m not fussy, bro, you’re fussy,” Tito said.

  Caden pointed to the floor. “Kneel,” he said.

  Tito glanced to the floor like it was a giant fanged mucus slug. “You know,” he said, “if you can use a broom to knight me, you can knight me while I’m standing up.”

  If Caden needed to practice with his gift of speech, this seemed the time. There were many reasons for Tito to kneel. But they only had four days. Chadwin couldn’t be saved, but Jane could. Caden touched the broomstick to Tito’s shoulder while Tito stood and looked uncomfortable. “You will make a noble Paladin,” Caden said. “And for your first task on that path, we will save your Jane.”

  “Darn straight,” Tito said. “And then we’ll find out why you’re stuck here.”

  With the broom’s handle, Caden tapped Tito’s left shoulder, then right. “We will, indeed”—Caden lifted his chin and smiled— “Sir Tito of Asheville.”

  Caden awoke and dressed in his boots and training clothes—the sweatshirt Rosa loaned him and the worn pants and shirt Tito had given him. Out the window, the trees dripped with melting ice. The sun was rising into a cold, clear sky. He used the broom handle to poke Tito. “Time to train,” he said.

  Tito groaned and mumbled something that sounded like “No.”

  “You did it the other day.”

  “Rosa gave me today off. So.” He turned over and pulled the covers over his head. “Sleep.” Tito didn’t move.

  Caden poked him harder. “We must train.”

  With a huff, Tito sat up. His hair stuck out at odd angles. He threw off the covers and pointed at Caden with the exact middle finger he had advised Caden not to use.

  They practiced fighting forms three and five before adjourning for breakfast. Rosa plunked a bowl of suspiciously round grain in front of Caden and patted Tito on the back like she was especially proud of him. “Eat your cereal,” she said. “We leave in twenty.”

  Tito motioned to an empty chair at the kitchen table. “Where’s Brynne?”

  “Asleep,” Rosa said.

  “Not getting ready for school?”

  “She’s not feeling well.” Rosa’s tone was soft. It wasn’t one Caden had ever imagined her using, and it wasn’t one he suspected was used much by anyone wi
th regard to Brynne. “The police can’t find any record of her or her family. She needs to rest. I’ll enroll her Monday. Now, hurry it up. I want you there on time,” she said, and went outside to deice her truck.

  Tito pointed his spoon toward the ceiling, milk dripping from the handle to the table. “Your sorceress won’t get away with playing sick for long,” he said. “Rosa will see straight through that soon enough.”

  Caden raised a brow. It was true. Brynne’s deceptions were easy to discern. Caden glanced at the ceiling with a slight feeling of worry. Rosa seemed sincerely concerned. “There is another possibility.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Outside, the truck revved. Caden picked up his spoon and made a point of avoiding the floating grains as he spooned up milk. “Maybe the magic has finally gotten to her.”

  In Caden’s first class, the mysterious voice in the computer taught him to read “cat,” “hat,” and “bat.” Ward seemed to be playing a computer game. Tonya peered without blinking at her computer and mouthed words.

  On the other side of the room, Mr. McDonald leaned back, entranced by another of his thick books. Caden cataloged his face, his mannerisms. Nothing about him seemed familiar. Caden didn’t remember a portrait looking like Mr. McDonald in the Hall of Infamy, but many had been banished over the years, and not all the portraits were as impressive as Rath Dunn’s.

  Suddenly, music blared. Mr. McDonald jumped. His book fell to the ground and flopped open. To Caden’s left, Tonya’s eyes were wide behind her glasses. To his right, Ward scowled at Caden’s backpack. Caden was confused. He took off his earmuffs and the music was even louder.

  Ward pushed back his red earmuffs and said in his soft, strong voice, “Your backpack is ringing.”

  Mr. McDonald stomped over, stooping to pick up his book on the way, and said, “No cell phones.”

  Caden pulled his backpack to his lap. “I have no cell phone.” The front pocket of his pack seemed to pulse with each music beat.

  Mr. McDonald’s snow-white hair glowed against the ceiling lights. He reached into the front pocket of Caden’s pack, pulled his brows into a deep furrow, and dragged out a pink-bejeweled cell phone. The music stopped.