by Laurie McKay
For a moment she stared at him with her too-small pupils and pale-blue eyes. Then her icy expression broke. The sides of her mouth tipped up. She noticed the drool, pulled a flowery handkerchief from her pocket, and dabbed at it. “Oh my,” she said, and the entire room seemed to warm up. “How terrifying, dear.”
His threat was by no means trivial. Truly, Caden was insulted. He pointed at her. “I still have a dragon to slay. I’d prefer it not be you.” Likely he was saying things he shouldn’t, but he felt no need to stay quiet. He was too wound up from the events of the last two days. Besides, his words seemed to only better her mood. “So don’t eat my brother or my friends, else I reconsider.”
“I quake in my scales, dear.” Then she laughed and wiped her eyes. The icicles hanging from the shelves started to melt. “This is why I’m glad I haven’t eaten you. In my foulest moods, you cheer me.”
If this was why he was here, he’d rather be in reading class. “Is that why you summoned me?” he said. “To amuse you?”
“Oh pish. Don’t get huffy.” She leaned back and flapped her handkerchief at him. “You said you had pride in my school. You meant that.”
With Ms. Primrose, Caden was always sincere. “I did.”
She puffed up. “It’s my jewel. My greatest treasure.” She’d appreciated his pride in the school more than he’d realized. “Yet someone dares tarnish it. Not everyone shares our love. Yesterday’s incident—” On the word “incident” her voice became sharp again. The cold returned. “The police deemed it an accident.”
It seemed Ms. Primrose didn’t share the opinion that it was an accident. “You disagree with the police,” he said.
“It’s not my job to agree or disagree with them. It’s my job to follow my rules.” She was getting irritated again. It seemed he’d charmed her for but a moment. He would get better as he continued to practice. “I’ve gotten calls from parents.” The temperature in the room plummeted. “Derek’s mother has called five times.”
Ms. Primrose disliked Derek’s mother. Derek’s mother was a lawyer and a local, though, and it seemed the combination made her less appetizing.
“Oh, they’ll stop soon, but my school is getting bad press. All the magical work to make them forget is making me irritable. I haven’t the time to polish my buttons or rearrange my treasures.” Then she leaned forward. “Now, if I was brought proof someone caused that accident . . .” She blinked—a slow unnatural movement. “Then I’d have someone to eat.” She paused. “Oh my, pardon me, someone to blame. That’s what I meant. Yes. Blame.” She nodded as if to agree with herself. “Then eat.”
Caden wasn’t to blame for the smelly green gas, and she didn’t seem overly inclined to eat him just yet. So it seemed she was asking him for help. “What is it you want from me?”
“You’re a prince, aren’t you?” She leaned forward and clasped her gnarled hands together like she was about to deliver the most exciting of news. “Well, dear, I’ve got a quest for you,” she said.
Caden perked up. A quest? Elite Paladins were often sent on quests. Technically, he wasn’t fully an Elite Paladin, and he was already on a quest to slay a dragon, but he was confident he could handle another quest. “What type of quest?”
“One to unmask a saboteur. Find out who released the gas. If you succeed, I’ll grant your brother’s life, regardless of that temper of his. Don’t get me wrong, he’ll still have to work at the school. He’ll serve me, but I’ll overlook his disrespectful attitude.”
When she next spoke, her words had a guttural sound. The room seemed to vibrate. Each syllable felt like a physical blow, like something hard and unyielding striking his temple. When Caden heard a new language, sometimes, fleetingly, the words had a strange cadence. Then his gift of speech would fix the foreign words into something familiar.
She spoke another language now. It wasn’t a regular language, though. It was a forgotten tongue, a language of power. It took a moment for the meaning to register.
Her sentences started to unscramble in his mind.
“Find the one responsible. Bring me Ashevillian evidence of their misdeeds. Give me something I can act upon. Do these three things and Prince Jasan will be spared.”
Unlike other languages, Caden didn’t retain the forgotten ones. When he concentrated, he could understand and reply to her. But afterward the powerful words vanished like stabbing pains. He couldn’t retrieve the language at will. She’d spoken a forgotten tongue to him two other times. Like those other times, Caden now felt like his head might break open. He brought his palm to his temple. It was important that he answer in the same harsh language. When she spoke to him, she expected that. He dreaded forming the words, though. They made his tongue feel split at the seams, and his mouth taste of blood.
He forced out the next words.
“Jasan will be spared, and you agree not to eat Brynne.”
He thought about Ms. Primrose’s recent behavior, about how she seemed short on control. He also thought about how she’d told him she rarely ate locals. Not never. He added:
“And you agree not to eat any of the students or parents.”
His vision was blurring, but he thought she smiled, and her skin and eyes and hair all shone silver. “Are you negotiating in a tongue of power?” she said in the Ashevillian tongue. He heard something that might have been a laugh. “That is a dangerous thing to do, but I must say I am impressed. Very well.” She returned to speaking the earsplitting forgotten tongue.
“If you succeed, I’ll spare him. I’ll spare your friends and the others.
“Though, really,” she added in normal Ashevillian, her tone huffy. “You needn’t worry. I don’t eat locals that often.”
Caden’s head felt like it was being crushed. He took a deep breath. Through the pain, something occurred to him, something he should have said earlier. He forced his hand back to his side.
He forced out the painful forgotten language again. “And if I fail?”
Ms. Primrose spoke it with ease. “Then I eat him. And you.”
“Why me, too?” His tongue hurt more with each word.
“As you’ve added to the reward the safety of your friends and classmates, I must add punishment. That is negotiation in a tongue of power. I’m being quite generous only adding you to my dinner plans. Would you rather I add your friends instead?”
Caden hunched over.
“No.”
“I thought not. It wouldn’t be in your nature.”
He grew dizzy from the pounding in his head and the pain in his tongue. Ms. Primrose seemed unaffected. She spoke to him as if she spoke in English or Spanish.
“Do you accept?”
Even with his aching head, he felt pride bubble deep within him. This was an honorable quest. He would be bringing a villain to justice and protecting his brother. And, truth be told, he didn’t think he had a choice. Refusing the quest seemed the same as failing it.
He tried to focus on her and forced the guttural language out once more.
“I accept.”
As soon as he’d uttered the words, the air suffocated him. He felt as if his soul was being branded. He couldn’t breathe and fell to his knees. A moment later, he felt his cheek hit the cold tile floor.
The pressure soon let up. He blinked at the sideways room and realized he was lying on the floor. With a silent curse, he pushed up to his knees.
Ms. Primrose was now standing. When she spoke, she mercifully did so in English. “Get off the floor, dear.”
Caden tottered to his feet. “What was that?”
She looked nostalgic. “Contracts made in a tongue of power are unbreakable. They’re powerful. Once an agreement is made, nothing can breach it. Not even I can stop how it concludes.”
“I see,” Caden said.
She let out a soft sigh. “There are so few capable of the words, so few. None I know of in the last millennia but you.” She frowned at him. “The fainting was a bit dramatic, though.”
&nb
sp; “It wasn’t intentional,” he said.
She waggled her finger at him. “Well, don’t do it next time.”
It seemed the exchange had mostly returned her old lady persona. Then her phone rang. Any amusement Caden had brought her seemed to fly away. With a gnarled hand that shimmered with blue scales, she reached for the phone. Before she picked it up her gaze skittered back to him. “Now, chop, chop, back to class. Don’t neglect your studies.” She put the phone to her ear. “That will be tantamount to failure, dear.”
Times such as these were times for confidence. “I’ll master reading and unmask the saboteur.”
“For your sake and your brother’s, I hope so.”
Caden bowed to her. With time and effort, he would find the ones responsible. He would save Jasan and his friends would be protected. “I take this quest with honor and good intent.”
“Find out who’s embarrassing my school.” She picked up the phone and the room was again bathed in blue light. She kept her hand over the receiver. “You have seven days.”
Wait. What? Caden’s confidence faded. “You said nothing about a time limit.”
“Don’t take that tone with me. What did you expect? Such quests have rules.” She shook her head. “Princes these days,” she said. “Seven days is standard. Those are the rules.”
They stared at each other. The silence of the room was broken by a low, hungry growl. Her pupils narrowed until they seemed to disappear in the icy blue of her eyes. Caden felt cold, damp breath on his neck; he felt like he was near jagged, tearing teeth. He dared not move; he dared not look away.
“Fail and I’ll gobble you up.”
At that moment, she sounded like she wanted to eat him. Caden uttered a respectful farewell. Then he bolted out the door.
Seven days. That’s all. Next Tuesday, Caden and Jasan would either be saved or be dead.
Caden composed his royal self as he walked. When he stepped from the blue-tinted long hall into the main corridor, it was like emerging from the Winter Castle catacombs to the bustle of the grand floor. There was sun and color. There was life. Once he was standing outside his literacy classroom, he inhaled deeply. He needed to investigate. At lunch, he’d sneak to the science room.
Mr. McDonald, his teacher, opened the door. His hair was thick and white. His shoulders had a constant downtrodden slump. “You have a note?” Mr. McDonald said.
In his dash to get away from the hungry Elderdragon, Caden hadn’t asked for a note. He crossed his arms. “No, but she wanted to see me.”
“You still need a note.”
“I still have none.”
Mr. McDonald shook his head. “Then you’ll have to stay with me after school today.” He fiddled with some papers on a nearby desk and pulled out a pink detention slip. “That’s her policy.”
The class consisted of two other students. The first was Tonya. She was pale and pudgy, with pretty blond hair and glasses. “B-but,” she said, “Caden was excused.” She was also a good, respectable ally.
Beside her sat Ward. He was small with brown skin and brown eyes. He nodded. Ward, too, was a good ally, though a quieter one. As Caden was in seventh grade, they were also his eyes and ears in the sixth grade.
Mr. McDonald started to fill in the form. “You don’t have a note, though.” He kept glancing at Caden like he expected a debate.
Well, it would be wrong to deny him one. “I see,” Caden said, and smiled. “Then I’ll return to Ms. Primrose during the break and tell her you demanded a note.”
He turned a ghostly white. “That’s not necessary—”
“Of course it is,” Caden said. “You don’t trust that she summoned me. I’ll tell her you require proof. She’ll understand.” With a smile, he added, “Probably.”
Mr. McDonald stared for a moment. Then he crumpled up the slip. “Forget it,” he said. “But if you’re late again, it’s detention.”
“Agreed.”
With a huff, Mr. McDonald trudged to his chair on the other side of the room. Caden took his computer seat between Tonya and Ward. In a lower voice, he said, “The gas incident was no accident.”
Neither Tonya nor Ward seemed surprised.
Tonya and Ward were excused at the normal time for first lunch. Normally, Caden would go to science. Sadly, the science room was locked and class was cancelled. Today, he had to spend an extra session in the literacy class. Caden’s attention wandered back to Mr. McDonald. Caden raised his hand and asked him who caused the gas explosion.
Mr. McDonald’s eyes went wide. “I don’t know anything about anything,” he said. Caden couldn’t argue with that. “Why don’t you ask the science teacher?”
Caden intended to ask everyone. “I will.” And he needed to look inside the science classroom. His and Jasan’s lives depended on it. “Anyone else I should ask?”
Mr. McDonald stomped to the other side of the classroom. “I wouldn’t know,” he said as he plopped into his chair. “Don’t meddle,” he warned.
“I’m not meddling,” Caden said, and turned to his computer. “I’m on a quest.”
When the bell finally tolled, Caden hurried to unlucky locker twelve-four. He returned his reading book. Tito walked up to him and leaned against less unlucky locker twelve-three. “Found Speedy yet?”
“No, Jasan is shopping with Ward’s father.”
Tito looked confused. “Shopping?”
“It means he’s alive.” Caden closed the locker door, wiped it down, and threw away the cleaning cloth. “We need to get inside the science classroom. Let’s go.”
Tito didn’t go. “Bro, it’s lunchtime. Best time of the day. For an evil guy I hate, Mr. Rathis makes really good food.”
Rath Dunn helped in the cafeteria only so that he had permission to leave the city limits for farm-fresh food, to go beyond Ms. Primrose’s territory even if only for a moment. Tito knew this. Was he trying to aggravate Caden? Yes. Probably so. “There’s no time for discussion. Come with me, now.”
“You know, you shouldn’t order people around so much,” Tito said, but he fell in step beside Caden. He dropped his voice so no one else could hear. “On Sunday, you’ll be following orders, and payback is a—”
Caden cut him off. “What will happen on Sunday isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
Caden had seven days to complete his quest. But for three of them, he’d be cursed with compliance. And he still hadn’t asked Jasan about that dagger. Suddenly, he felt sick. He stopped walking and brought his arm to his middle. A group of eighth-grade girls passed them and bumped him. It was possible he might throw up.
“Hey.” Tito pulled him from the middle of the hall. “Um . . . Brynne will fix that. And until she figures out how, Jane and I will help you when it happens.”
“Now you sound worried,” Caden said. “As you should.”
“Well, you turned green.”
Caden looked at his hands. They were the usual fleshy color.
“It’s a figure of speech, your bossiness.” The hall was starting to empty. Tito nodded in the direction of the science room. “Check it out.” Mr. Creedly stood guard in front of it like a Summerlands prison attendant.
Behind Mr. Creedly, there were several splintered cracks in the door’s oak frame. The small window in it must have shattered, for it had been replaced with a rough wooden plank.
Mr. Bellows, the skeletal English instructor, walked past from the other side of the hall. He had a key in his hand. He slowed as he approached Mr. Creedly.
“This is not your room,” Mr. Creedly said.
Mr. Bellows looked ready to argue, but stepped back. “I just need to enter for a moment.”
Mr. Creedly raised his spindly arms. The shadows stretched across the door and wall behind him. “She is angry. You’ve angered her.”
Mr. Creedly was right about that. Ms. Primrose was angry. And hungry. Both. They seemed to be interwoven. The angrier she got, the hungrier she was.
Mr
. Bellows snickered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but he looked at Mr. Creedly’s outstretched arms and stepped back. “I’ll come back after lunch.” As Mr. Bellows passed Caden and Tito, he turned to Tito. “Win the spelling bee Thursday, and you’ll definitely get the English award next week.”
“Awesome,” Tito said. “A-W-E-S-O-M-E.”
“Nicely done, Tito. Smart,” Mr. Bellows said. “S-M-A-R-T.”
Caden was feeling sick once more.
Then Mr. Bellows shifted his attention to Caden. “And you.” Mr. Bellows and Caden had never before spoken. “You, young Razzonian prince, enjoy my spelling contest as well.”
What was there to enjoy about that? “Doubtful,” Caden said.
After Mr. Bellows left, Tito turned to Caden. “Everyone really does seem to know about you.”
“My family is famous in the Greater Realm. All know of us.” He nodded to Mr. Bellows’s retreating figure. “He’s evil, you understand that?”
“I still need him to give me an A.” Tito grinned, the left side of his mouth higher than the right. “It’s better to lull them into a false sense of friendliness. Keeps them off guard.”
“Perhaps,” Caden said. Mr. Creedly remained stationed at the classroom door. Now he watched Caden and Tito like he wanted to sink poisonous fangs into them. “He doesn’t look lulled,” Caden said.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to let us in that room either.” Tito leaned back against the wall. “That room blew up, and if your brother is out shopping, he’s not inside it. Why do you need to get in there?”
Caden needed to get inside because his and Jasan’s lives depended on him finding out what had happened. Seven days would be up in the flap of a fairy wing. “Because there is something new I must tell you,” Caden said. He also needed to tell the sorceress and enchantress. “Brynne and Jane must know, too.”
“Okay. Then tell us over delicious, evil-people-prepared food.”
The cafeteria was noisier than usual. Caden waited at the middle table for Brynne, Tito, and Jane. Near the front, Derek and his group laughed and pointed at him. No matter. Caden was certain he could flatten them if he wanted.
