Quest Maker

by Laurie McKay

  Caden looked at him. “I’m not crazy.”

  “Yeah, but they don’t know that.”

  Caden leaned against the wall. “No matter what I say, they don’t believe the truth.”

  “Then tell them what they want to hear.”

  What they wanted to hear wasn’t true. Caden had little of his homeland—just his coat and Sir Horace, a troublemaking sorceress, and a brother who wanted him to stay away. And his honor. He wouldn’t compromise it for comfort and the easy way out. All future Elite Paladins were tested. He wouldn’t fail in his noble path because Rosa wanted to get rid of him.

  “I’ll prove I’m sane. I’ll unmask the villains for what they are.”

  Tito shook his head. “I got an idea,” he said. “Just pretend you’re a normal messed-up kid until you can do that. Tell Rosa you’re sorry, and you won’t say weird stuff anymore.”

  “I don’t say weird stuff. I point out facts.”

  Tito’s frown was lopsided, his eyes concerned. “Bro, this is a good place. You don’t want to be sent somewhere else. Trust me on that. I’ll help.” His voice cracked. He was truly worried. “I’ll tell her it’s a game, and . . . I don’t know. We’ll figure something out.”

  Tito rattled on.

  So Rosa was sending Caden away. To protect everyone else. That was what she’d said. It wasn’t her fault she knew nothing of the Greater Realm. She was doing her best. He wouldn’t hold any ill will toward her. He thought of his family. His father had sent him away. An inner voice added, “To protect you,” but it wasn’t so convincing. Jasan wanted him to go away, and Chadwin apparently had never considered him truly a brother.

  Tito was saying something about “abandonment issues.” “You can play that up. My old case worker always went straight for that when I got upset and . . .”

  Outside, the sun was low. Tonight, the half-moon would rise and he’d be cursed once more. If he was ordered to go away, to go somewhere where they would lock him up far from his friends, from the school, he’d have to go. He’d not be there to unmask the saboteur and save his brother, nor be around to find a way to help his family. Ms. Primrose would find him and eat him.

  “You’ve got to be smart here, you understand?” Tito said.

  Caden sat on his bed and put his chin in his hands. He understood. Most people liked him. Of this there was no doubt. The ones he loved just didn’t want him around.

  Caden awoke early the next day. He sat up and swung his legs to the floor. At once, his arms felt tingly and his limbs strange. It was the curse. His will was no longer his own. Until the half-moon waned on Tuesday night, he was bound to do as told.

  Likely, he’d be eaten by then.

  Outside the window, thunderclouds hung low near the mountaintops. It was supposed to rain today. The weather in Asheville was like that—always changing.

  In the Greater Realm, the weather shifted some, but not like it did here. The Winterlands were always cold and snowy, although sometimes they were colder and snowier. It was the same with the Summerlands. They were hot and dry or hotter and drier. The Springlands were warm and pleasant, and the Autumnlands cool and crisp.

  Across the taped line that divided the room, Tito sat up in his bed. He had dark circles under his eyes. His face looked pinched. Caden didn’t mention the weirdness of the weather to him. Tito thought the weird weather was normal the way Caden thought nonweird nonchanging weather was normal.

  Instead, Caden said, “I’m the one who needs to convince them to let me stay. You needn’t worry.”

  Tito picked at his purple quilt. “Bro, I’m going to worry.”

  It was Tito’s nature to fear for things that had not yet passed. Caden was still here. They still had villains to draw from the shadows and plots to uncover. “Sir Tito,” Caden said, “they haven’t sent me away yet.”

  Tito wiped his arm against his face. “It just blows, man.”

  Caden didn’t understand that phrasing, but it wasn’t always necessary to understand someone’s words to get their meaning. Caden knew what Tito meant. “We will overcome, no matter what happens.”

  If he collected Ashevillian proof of sabotage, his quest would be completed and he could show Rosa and Officer Levine the true natures of the villainous teachers. Then they would have to accept he wasn’t crazy. The not-accidents would be shown for what they were. Ms. Primrose wouldn’t eat Jasan. Rosa wouldn’t send him away. That would solve his problems. But how could he prove something magical in a way that someone nonmagical would understand?

  He’d find a way. “I’ll prove to them I’m not crazy.”

  Tito forced a smile. “Yeah, that sounds like what a crazy person might say.” He shrugged. “I know you’re telling the truth, and I think you’re a little loco. Maybe we should come up with a better plan.”

  If it came to it, Caden was trained in survival. “If I have to, I can always return to living in the woods.”

  “The woods, huh?” Tito stood up and grabbed one of his black T-shirts. “You know, I think that cements it.” He cleared his throat. “You’re a werewolf.”

  “A what?”

  Tito explained.

  Caden was nothing like a werewolf. “I’m no man-beast that feasts on flesh.”

  “You’re bound by the lunar cycle,” Tito said. “Admit it, you’re a werewolf.”

  What did this have to do with anything? Still, that was an order. Caden was under the power of the curse. He admitted it. “Because of my unrelated lunar issues, I’m a werewolf,” he said. “Although I don’t fit the werewolf description at all.”

  “I knew you’d agree,” Tito said.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “Yeah, I guess it’s not,” Tito said. When he looked up, he seemed determined. “I could order you to tell Rosa you made up everything.”

  “No,” Caden said. His honor was the one thing that was truly his. “That would be a lie.”

  “But if I ordered you,” Tito said, “it wouldn’t be your fault.”

  Would Tito do something like that? Nothing was more important to Caden than becoming an Elite Paladin, nothing. To do that, he needed to slay a dragon, fight evil, and always act with honor. It was terrifying enough that the villains might find out and order him to do something that would jeopardize his honor, his life, or the lives of others. He shouldn’t have the same worry about his friend.

  One thing about Tito, he didn’t do well with disappointing people. Mostly Rosa. But Caden suspected those feelings also filtered down to others—Jane, Brynne, even Caden.

  “If you order me to lie,” Caden said, “we’ll never be friends again.”

  Tito frowned. “Never is a bit harsh, don’t you think? Especially if I do it to help you.”

  Maybe. Caden stood up, but suddenly felt conflicted. Had Jasan vowed something similar to their brothers, their father, when they wrongly banished him? Didn’t Caden want Jasan to find a way for them to be family again one day?

  Caden changed into his daytime T-shirt. This one sadly had no magnificent horse or soaring bird; hence, he saved it for nonschool days. It did, however, have interesting blue-and-green stripes, and was better than the black T-shirt Tito was wearing. “Don’t make me lie, Sir Tito. Please.”

  Tito frowned at Caden as if Caden were the unreasonable one. “Whatever.” His brow creased. “Yeah. Okay. I won’t order you to lie. You’d just go all freaky on me, anyway.” He bent over and laced up his sneakers.

  “Good, then we can stay friends.”

  “Don’t forget that,” Tito said.

  That was an order. Combined with the guilty look falling over Tito’s face, it was also one that worried Caden. He stood at alert. “Why not?”

  “’Cause I got an idea,” Tito said. “Listen, until your curse is done, don’t say anything to Rosa or Officer Levine about the Greater Realm. And don’t say anything to anyone else when they can hear.”

  Caden was taken aback. “What?”

  “Bro, you won’t have to
lie.” Tito looked like he wanted Caden to agree badly. “This way, you’re less likely to say something too crazy.”

  “Sir Tito,” Caden said, and he felt fury building. “You shouldn’t give me orders at all. I should get to choose what I say. No one else.”

  “Yeah. I know. I’m sorry,” Tito said, but he didn’t take back his words.

  And an order was an order.

  At breakfast, Caden sat between Jane and Brynne, and not beside Tito like usual.

  Rosa watched him with the same sad expression she’d had the night before. “Why have you changed seats, Caden?”

  “I’m not talking to Tito until Tuesday.”

  When Caden said nothing more, Rosa looked to Tito, but Tito stared at his eggs like he was under a hypnoturtle’s thrall. With a slow exhale, Rosa looked back to Caden. “Will you tell me why?”

  Not an order. “It depends.”

  Tito looked up. Brynne and Jane watched as well. Rosa kept her expression even. “On what, Caden?” Rosa said.

  Suddenly, Caden wasn’t hungry. He pushed away his whole-grain toast. He needed to stay with Rosa—if not forever, at least for two more days. What could he say? He took a deep breath. “It depends,” he said, “on if you’re sending me away like everyone else has. I trusted you.”

  He was trying for matter-of-fact, or maybe angry. Perhaps he’d not attained either, for Rosa looked as though she might cry, and he felt the same way. “Please keep me another two days. That’s all I’m asking.”

  Jane and Brynne looked at each other, then at Rosa. They seemed to be waiting for Rosa to deny it. Rosa was quiet. Likely, she was shocked that Caden knew her plans, and more so that he’d confronted her.

  After an awkward silence, Brynne started fidgeting. “Caden needs to stay with me,” she said. “We’re allies. We came here together.”

  “He’s not really a bad influence,” Tito said.

  Caden wasn’t talking to Tito currently, so he didn’t acknowledge him. Tito was right, though. “I’m not a bad influence at all,” he said. “I’m the opposite.”

  Rosa’s expression went weary. “You overheard,” she said.

  “I did.”

  Jane set her fork down, though she looked at it thoughtfully before doing so, then frowned at Rosa. “Rosa,” she said in the calm way of hers, “he’s the one who saved me.”

  Rosa glanced at Jane, then back at Caden and held his gaze. Well, he deserved the brunt of her attention. He was the one she was giving away. He squared his shoulders.

  “I want what’s best for all of you,” she said, and kept her gaze on Caden. “No one’s being sent anywhere today.”

  “What about tomorrow?” he said.

  “Monday you have school. And Tuesday afternoon we’re talking to your social worker. That’s all. It doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere. But you have to start behaving. Another incident, and I’ll have to do what I think is best for you. Even if what I think is that you need more than I can give you.”

  Caden wanted to explain his quest again, but he had been ordered not to tell stories of his dragons, villains, or homeland. “I see.”

  With that, she started clearing the table. “I want what’s best for you. Don’t ever question that.” An order. “Let’s just enjoy Sunday together.”

  She didn’t push the matter more and pardoned them from their punishment chores for the day. Brynne, of course, took the pardon as an opportunity. “Can we get back our phones?”

  Rosa must have felt particularly guilty because she returned them.

  That afternoon, Rosa spent most of her time outside tinkering with her sculptures. The drizzle didn’t seem to bother her. Tito fell asleep in the attic room while Caden was ignoring him. Caden went downstairs to visit the girls’ room.

  The sunny yellow walls looked dull against the gray light from the window. The billowy white curtains seemed to sag. Brynne was sitting cross-legged on the bottom bunk. Her hair hung long over her shoulders. Jane was at her desk.

  As soon as he closed the door, Brynne ordered him not to be mad at Tito.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” Caden told her. “That’s why Tito shouldn’t have ordered me not to talk about the Greater Realm. No curse can control how I feel. Just what I say and do.”

  “Too bad,” Brynne said.

  “No, it’s not.”

  It seemed Jane had decided her breakfast fork unworthy of enchantment, for she had a large metal spoon—no, not a spoon, a soup ladle—on the desktop. She smiled. “Tito is trying to help,” she said. She held up the ladle. “This one’s new.”

  Outside, thunder cracked on the mountain. Caden crossed his arms. He pointed at Brynne, then the ladle. “You shouldn’t encourage these enchantments.”

  “As long as Jane does small enchantments, she gains better control, and doesn’t use so much life force. And she’s part elf, so she has more life force to practice with. If the enchantments get small enough, the life force loss will be minimal,” Brynne said. “It’s a good plan.”

  “It is,” Jane said. “The ladle is special, though. It deserves a lot of power.”

  Brynne creased her brow in worry. Caden shook his head. The ladle would be magic item number one hundred thirty-four, the Enchanted Ladle of Power.

  Caden wanted to believe she and Brynne had a good plan, but if she hadn’t held back on a ladle, would she really hold back on everything else? Wouldn’t it be safer to concentrate on enchanting as few things as possible?

  Caden couldn’t hide his concern. “Don’t enchant it, Jane.”

  Jane and Brynne exchanged a look. They were getting good at communicating like that. He considered them. “I see,” he said, and sighed. “You’ve already enchanted it.”

  Jane didn’t offer him the ladle as she had the paper clips that held things together, or the whisk that mixed things. He almost didn’t ask. Still. “What does it do?”

  He was expecting her to say “It ladles things,” but she didn’t. “It’s complicated.”

  That made him more curious. “How so?”

  Jane smiled, and it was a devious smile, indeed. “You’ll see,” she said. “And don’t worry, Caden. It’ll help us, and it’s the last large enchantment I plan to do.”

  Caden opened his mouth to ask exactly how an enchanted ladle would help, but before he could, Brynne said, “Quiet, prince.” She pointed at the floor and grinned. “Sit.”

  An order. He fidgeted. With a huff, he sat on the floor. Tito, at least, had the decency to feel guilty about the orders. Brynne looked amused. He crossed his arms and glowered up at her.

  “Fine, you don’t have to be quiet. But stop badgering Jane.”

  “He’s not badgering me,” Jane said.

  Exactly. “I shouldn’t have to sit, either,” he said. Truth be told, he could get up now. She hadn’t specified a time limit and Caden had satisfied her order already. The floor, however, was surprisingly comfortable.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Jane said. “Worry about everything else.” She moved away from the desk and sat on the floor beside him. “I’ve been thinking, There’s no way to easily skip class. The teachers are getting wise to the bathroom excuse, and they’ll be watching us after the vandalism incident. Lunch period is when we should snoop around the cafeteria. We’re supposed to be there then.”

  “We’ve only got two days left,” Caden said. Time was as much their enemy as the villains.

  “That’s why we have to be smart and get into the school kitchen,” Jane said.

  “I agree,” he said, but he felt unnerved. Something was wrong, and he wasn’t seeing it.

  On Monday, the sky was a deep blue. Sunday’s drizzle seemed to have washed and polished the city. The roads looked clean. The trees on the mountains were shades of green.

  When they drove up to the school, there were no police or paramedics, no screeching alarm bells, but something wasn’t right. The grass on the front lawn looked sickly. The blooms on the rhododendron had turned a slimy bla
ck. The trees looked burned. The just-planted roses that surrounded the building were brown and dry as if the weekend’s rainstorm had never happened.

  A few local students pointed at a tree, or mumbled sadly about the flowers. But none really seemed to understand what the dead plants meant. They were connected to plots against the school, Asheville, and the Greater Realm. And they were a bad omen.

  Caden went to the side of the building, bent down, and picked a flower. It crumbled in his hand. The bloom reminded him of the dead rats in the science room, drained of life. He turned to Brynne.

  “What do you think?”

  Brynne crouched beside him, her brow creased, her eyes narrowed. “Definitely ritual magic,” she said. “Odd to sacrifice flowers and trees, though.” She narrowed her eyes. “The Great Walking Oak is protector of the Springlands and spellcasters. To kill a tree is sacrilege.”

  Jane looked at the tree and clenched at something hidden in her coat. “This has to stop.”

  She’d never walked among the flower fields of the Springlands, nor climbed the great mountains of the Winterlands. Her skin had never felt the burning heat of the Summerlands deserts, nor seen the red, yellow, and orange fire forests of the Autumnlands. Yet Jane was half elf. Her mother was from the Springlands. The Walking Oak was as sacred to her as the Winterbird was to him.

  “Then the three of us will stop it,” Caden said.

  Beside him, Tito sighed. “Are you really going to ignore me until Tuesday?”

  Caden refused to look at him. “Why don’t you order me to stop?”

  “If I did, I don’t think I’d ever hear the end of it.”

  Brynne stood up and took Caden’s hand. “I will break the curse. Please believe me.” She squeezed his hand. A passing group of girls pointed at their clasped hands and giggled. Brynne pulled away. “And I’m sorrier than even you know.”

  She sounded so sincere, so contrite, Caden believed her. “I know you will.”

  “Good,” she said. Then her eyes glinted, and her brow arched. “But for now, stop ignoring Tito.”

  “Fine,” Caden said. “I’ll ignore you instead.”

  “I’ll order you not to.” She brushed off her jeans. “I’ve no qualms about using any advantage at my disposal.”