by Laurie McKay
Brynne staggered down the hill. “That’s right, prince. We are mighty, Sir Tito and I.” When he shone the light on her, her skin and lips looked blue, and as expected her coat was gone. Her fuzzy white sweater was the color of muck. She looked far too cold, sounded far too weak.
Caden gave the light back to Tito, took off his coat, and gave it to Brynne. Without it, the magnitude of the cold became apparent to him. Both Brynne and Tito had been in the snow far too long. He shielded Brynne from the stinging snow as best he could and helped her down the hill. “Jane Chan appears well, but she has not awoken,” he said. “It’s warm in the structure; we should get inside it.”
Tito was already running toward the shed. “You left her alone in there?”
Caden bristled. “Sir Horace is with her,” he said. As he watched Tito sprint, he felt a warmth in his belly despite the snow. They’d done it. Jane hadn’t died like his brother. They’d saved her. Caden was almost speechless. Almost. “She’s alive,” he said, and in spite of everything, it seemed hard to believe. He turned to Brynne and felt his lips crack from the cold as he smiled. “She’s alive,” he said, “and we saved her.”
Caden and Brynne trudged into the metal structure. The storm’s winds rushed through the doorway. Overhead, the lanterns flickered and the dead animals swayed.
Tito knelt beside Jane. His hands shook as he checked her; he seemed shocked they’d found her alive, shocked at the dead animals above and the evil lunch lady and lunch man huddled in the opposite corner. Jane’s eyes remained closed.
Beside Caden, Brynne shivered. He tugged his coat snugly around her and helped her ease down and sit near Tito.
“I don’t require your aid,” she said.
“You’re frozen, sorceress.”
“As are you, prince.”
True, Caden’s face tingled and his hands were cold, but he doubted he was the same bluish color as her. “I had my coat.”
Brynne reached in his coat pocket and pulled out his pink phone. Some of the sparkly stones were missing. The screen was cracked and it fell off as she held it out. “The ice dragon hit you hard, though.” As she gazed at his phone, she looked sad. “Mine is lost to the snow.”
“Mine’s in my pack,” Tito said. He opened his backpack and took out the first aid kit, and the blanket, then wrapped the latter around Jane’s shoulders. “I’ll call for help.”
For someone who’d spent dusk battling an ice dragon with a broom, he looked amazingly unscathed. His hair endured in the same slick ponytail. His dark clothes were neither torn nor tattered.
Tito seemed to sense Caden’s scrutiny. “What?”
“You look well.”
Tito fussed between Jane and his backpack but stopped to spare them a glance. “Well, you two look like crap.” He looked again and frowned. “Cold crap. You okay?”
“We’re not as good as you,” Caden said.
“Whatever that’s supposed to mean,” Tito said. “Here.” He pulled his outermost sweatshirt off and tossed it to Caden. “Since you’re so delicate and all.”
Caden was an eighth-born prince, trained by the Elite Guard and his seven noble brothers, trained even by his father, the king. He was the opposite of delicate. Without his coat, however, he was cold. He pulled the sweatshirt on over his sweater. It was warmer than nothing.
Tito pointed at him. “Just don’t tell anyone at school I gave you my shirt.”
“Why would I do that?”
“You do all sorts of weird things.”
Brynne laughed at that. She looked around, but her gaze seemed to set on Tito for a long moment. Caden peered, too. Tito was leaning over his bag, hunting for his phone; the half elf’s necklace of protection glittered near his neck. Brynne nodded to it.
Tito slew the dragon with his bravery, wit, and fortitude. None could deny that. He had been brave and smart. His natural skill was unquestionable.
His quality of character, however, didn’t explain his neat appearance. It was too cold outside, Tito was too new to battle, and the ice dragons too vile of opponents for him to escape without as much as a rip in his clothes. That was the work of something else, something powerful.
It seemed Rath Dunn was wrong. Tito’s necklace was more than a mere trinket, Jane Chan’s skills more than a novelty.
Tito found his phone and dialed 911. “The signal’s breaking up.”
From the back corner, Mr. Andre banged what was left of his cane against the wall. Without their youth and Ms. Jackson, without their magic traps, Mr. Andre and Ms. Aggie seemed weak and pitiful.
“Let us talk about this; no need to call the police,” Mr. Andre called out. “We should work together—we have much to offer.” Cautiously, he peered around Sir Horace, hands out as he darted his gaze worriedly from Sir Horace to Tito and back again. He inched toward them. As he got close to Sir Horace, Sir Horace forced him back to the corner.
Brynne snorted and turned away. She bundled up like a ball in Caden’s coat. “They have nothing to offer.” She leaned her head against the metal wall and rested her eyes.
Caden used his foot to nudge her. “Don’t sleep,” he said. “You’re too cold.”
“I’m fine.” The strength of her glare showed returning health and renewed vigor. “Caden, eighth-born prince of Razzon,” she said. “You forget. I’m not your subject.”
Caden glanced to the back of the shed. Mr. Andre and Ms. Aggie remained cornered by Sir Horace. “I suppose you sound strong enough,” he said.
“Strong,” Tito said. “That girl’s a dragon slayer.”
Caden crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. “I’m well aware that everyone’s a dragon slayer but me.”
Tito looked from Caden to Jane Chan and back. “You saved Jane,” he said as if it was worthy of greater acclaim.
“Dragons.” Brynne snorted. Then she glanced up at Caden. “Tito and I have slain ice dragons, but you faced and charmed an Elderdragon.” She snuggled under his coat and raised a brow. “That is a feat of renown. Much more impressive than destroying a bundle of mindless chaos like an ice dragon.”
Caden wasn’t sure if his father would agree with Brynne on that or not. He looked away. His gift of speech was one he needed to better understand, that was certain. And the forgotten languages tugged at his curiosity. Beside him, Tito held his phone toward the rafters and tried 911 again.
“There’s no need to call, no need for that,” Ms. Aggie called out. She and her brother remained at Sir Horace’s mercy. “No harm done. The girl’s fine.”
Tito’s face turned red, and he clenched his fists. He’d been bound to explode or weep at some point and it seemed anger had won out. “Stop talking!”
His shout echoed against the metal walls. As if his voice broke the last shards of the spell, Jane Chan’s eyelids fluttered. She looked at Tito with a slight frown.
The fury drained from Tito’s face, and he dropped to his knees beside her, his phone held loosely in his hand. “Jane? Hey, you okay?”
“Tito?” She blinked at him. “Where . . . ? I’ve had bad dreams.” She glanced to the rafters, to the animal carcasses hanging down. “The deer were screaming.”
The animals probably did scream, and if anyone could sense wildlife’s cries, it would be an elf. “Elves are close to nature,” Caden said.
Jane turned to Caden. Her eyes were warm and kind, her skin pale. She was pretty in a regular way, like a daisy in the Springlands. She scrunched her face and looked back to Tito. “Did Rosa bring home another one?” she said.
“Sort of. Don’t worry, he’s, uh . . . ,” Tito said. “He’s cool, I guess.”
“Actually, I’m cold,” Caden said, and Jane laughed. She’d been a long time kept in sand and nightmares. Recovery would take time. “She seems confused.”
“She’s been missing well over a week,” Tito said.
“What? I haven’t . . .” Jane struggled to sit up. Tito tried to help her, but she froze when she was eye level with his shirt. She
reached for the glinting chain around his neck. “You’re wearing my necklace.”
“Oh, yeah. We found it on the mountain,” Tito said. He blushed and reached to take it off. “I was just—”
“No,” Jane said. She settled back and closed her eyes. “No, you keep it. I want you to wear it.”
“You do?” Tito said, but she was back asleep.
Brynne opened her eyes. With an arch of the brow, she turned toward the lunch witches. “What of them?”
Tito also looked to the back corner.
Sir Horace pranced and nipped. Ms. Aggie and Mr. Andre trembled under his guard. Sir Horace, however, deserved a chance to run with the blizzard, to prance in the snow.
Caden stood and brushed dirt from his jeans. “Tell me, Sir Tito, have you rope among your supplies?”
Tito pulled a spool of strong thin twine from his pack and tossed it to Caden. “Have at it.”
Mr. Andre’s eyes were full of hatred, Ms. Aggie’s full of fury. As Caden reached down to tie her hands, Ms. Aggie whispered to him.
“Dear little prince,” she said, and her voice was like the dead, “let us go and we can help you.”
Caden tightened the knot. “How so?”
“We know how you and the girl came to be here.”
Caden snapped his gaze to hers. “Tell me.”
She shushed him. “Now, now. Let us go, leave the ropes loose, and keep the horse away, and we’ll tell you, we will.”
He moved to tighten Mr. Andre’s ropes. “You know nothing.”
Mr. Andre wheezed as he spoke. “We know everything.”
“Everything,” echoed Ms. Aggie.
They claimed to have answers. All he had to do was get them to tell him. If he could charm Ms. Primrose into liking him, certainly he could make these lunch witches tell him what he wanted to know. Besides, they were desperate. “If you can tell me how Brynne and I were brought here, and I believe you, I’ll consider letting you go.”
“Let us go, then we’ll talk,” Ms. Aggie said.
This wasn’t like Caden’s chat with Rath Dunn. With Jane rescued and his friends safe at the opposite corner near the paints, he had the bargaining power. “No,” he said. “Tell me first.”
They turned and whispered to each other. Ms. Aggie spoke. “One year ago, our sister was ailing. She needed another’s life force to sustain her—and a powerful one at that. Rath Dunn knew of an elf trapped in this land and delivered the elf to her. She took her life force, was cured, and what’s more, she regained her youth. Our sister owed Rath Dunn a debt.”
Caden felt a sick turn to his stomach. “The elf your sister drained,” he said. “That was Jane’s mother. That’s why she lived with Rosa.”
Mr. Andre and Ms. Aggie cackled. Mr. Andre said, “As repayment, Rath Dunn asked us to aid him in collecting a list of strange items. He required tears of an elf, and so we lured the elf’s daughter past the city limits during the night. The promise of seeing her mother made her reckless, and she went willingly into the woods,” he said. “And in the woods, we set a trap.”
Ms. Aggie leaned forward. “If we collected her tears for his use, he said we could do with her as we pleased. And on that same night, our sister, a master of ritual magic, retrieved for him two more items he was unable to procure on his own. Now, release us.”
“No.” The other vials had all been empty. “Tell me what they were?” Caden asked.
Ms. Aggie scowled but continued. “He asked her to bring a great sorcerer and the seventh son of his enemy King Axel to this land. As a favor, he let us keep the young elf, so that we might regain some of our youth, too. The spell takes days to steep. It keeps those trapped alive and fresh and unconcious until it can be finished on the new moon.”
“You’ve ruined it,” Mr. Andre said, but Caden’s thoughts were stuck on his sister’s words.
A great sorcerer. A son of King Axel.
He looked between them. “Ms. Jackson cast the spell that brought us here?” Caden said. “But I’m not my father’s seventh-born son.”
“The spell doesn’t make mistakes,” Ms. Aggie said.
“Nor does our sister,” Mr. Andre said.
Caden considered. The lunch witches allied with Rath Dunn. He’d befriended practioneers of ritual magic. In his desk, he’d had elf tears and vials for other things. He’d taken Caden’s blood and seemed disappointed. The spell might not make mistakes, but Rath Dunn had.
Caden was eighth-born, and Jasan was seventh-born. But then Chadwin had been killed. Of the sons of Axel left, Caden was now number seven. “He asked for the seventh son, not the seventh-born son, just assuming the spell would bring Jasan,” he said out loud. “He didn’t know he needed to specify.”
“Yes, yes,” said Ms. Aggie.
Rath Dunn wanted Jasan, not Caden. Caden was a mistake. Brynne wasn’t, though. What she lacked in control, she made up for in power. She set the woods on fire and made a door explode through a phone. And one vial in Rath Dunn’s drawer was for “magical locks.” That was likely why he was interested in meeting Brynne. He wanted something from her for that vial. Knowing him, it would put her life in peril.
Ms. Aggie smiled in poor imitation of a kind old woman. “Now, let us go.”
“Yes, let us go,” echoed Mr. Andre. “No harm was done.”
Caden glanced to his friends, to Tito and Jane. He looked at Brynne dozing and beaten up near the wall. Up in the rafters, the animals hung down lifeless and stiff. Jane’s mother had met a fate similar to the poor animals; she hadn’t been saved like Jane.
The witches were wrong. Great harm had been done.
“I need to know more.” Caden crossed his arms and felt his stitches pull. “Rath Dunn is gathering ingredients,” he said. “For what?”
They looked at each other.
“We don’t know,” Mr. Andre said.
“But,” Ms. Aggie said, “our sister knows. Let us go and she’ll tell you, she will.”
Caden was certain she’d tell him nothing. He bent toward the ancient lunch people, inspected the ropes to make sure they were tight, then stood and straightened Tito’s smelly sweatshirt. “As promised, I’ve considered letting you go,” he said. “And decided against it.”
Their eyes widened in surprise and darkened with fury. Mr. Andre cursed. Ms. Aggie spat at him and said, “You wouldn’t want to anger our sister.”
Ms. Jackson was the least of Caden’s concerns. He had other enemies at the school—Rath Dunn and quite possibly the creepy secretary. Ms. Primrose switched from enemy to friend with the winds. If he were to have more enemies, let there be more. Besides, he had figured out how to save Jane on his own. He didn’t need the witches to tell him what Rath Dunn was planning. He, Tito, and Brynne could figure it out. “I’ll take my chances,” he said.
Later, after the heaters had stopped heating, and the lanterns flickered with low fuel, the emergency people arrived. Officer Levine was the first in the doorway. When he saw Jane, he turned up his mouth in a soft smile. He nodded back to a fur- and-leather-bundled Jenkins. “Tell Rosa we’ve found them. All of them.”
Outside, the blizzard had finally stopped. It remained cold, but the wind no longer howled; the snow no longer stung. Behind the ambulance, Caden saw Sir Horace watching the flickering red and blue lights and signaled him to return to the horse jail. He deserved all the apples he could eat.
After that there were lots of blankets and hot drinks, prodding medics, and questions with difficult answers. Jane claimed not to remember much from her days missing, but she named her captors with confidence. The police handcuffed a disgruntled and fearful Ms. Aggie and Mr. Andre. As they were loaded into the police car, Caden heard Ms. Aggie hiss, “She won’t be happy . . .”
“I thought my mom was in the woods,” Jane said as the four of them, Officer Levine, Rosa, and an on-duty social worker huddled in the warm and overly bright emergency room. “At school lunch they’d told me she was alive and living in the woods.” She sat
next to Tito on an orange-cushioned bench and leaned closer to him as she spoke. “I should’ve told someone. I should’ve told Tito at least. I knew she wasn’t there. I mean, I know she’s gone, but I had to see.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “But it was them.” She shivered, but Caden couldn’t tell if it was from chill or memory. “They stole my tears. They were going to kill me like they killed those animals.”
Brynne sat in a nearby chair, feigning sleep. It was a transparent ploy to avoid answering questions, but it seemed to be working for her. Caden, however, had no desire to be quiet. He added the information Jane left out; he told them of the magic sand trap and the lunch people’s youth-stealing motive.
Officer Levine, Rosa, and the on-duty social worker stopped and stared at him. Caden squared his shoulders. “You should know the truth,” he said.
Tito looked away; Brynne faked a snore.
Rosa put her arm around Caden’s shoulder. “He’s been through a lot. He’s confused,” she said. She cleared her throat. “He’s starting counseling next Thursday.”
Caden most certainly was not confused. He was quite the opposite. If not for him, Jane would have been devoured, hung from the rafters, and left empty like one of those unfortunate woodland creatures. He was about to argue his point, but Officer Levine’s signals to stay quiet and Rosa’s strong shoulder squeeze gave him pause. For once, he kept quiet.
Jane jumped in. “They did believe that,” she said. “They were evil and they were wrong.”
“How are you feeling, Jane?” the social worker said.
“Lost,” Jane Chan said. “But found, too.”
The questions continued, and sulkily Caden let Jane and Tito answer them. Eventually Officer Levine, Rosa, and the social worker started talking to one another and not them. Jane caught Caden’s gaze then and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Between the snow and the scandal, school was closed for several days. It finally reopened on the following Tuesday. Caden took time to measure and trim his hair. It had grown half a length too long since he’d left the castle. He dressed in a red plaid shirt with a collar and a pair of his too-long jeans. As always, he wore his coat.
