by Laurie McKay
He considered the criteria of his quest. Ms. Primrose had said three things:
“Find the one responsible.” Caden knew those responsible.
“Bring me Ashevillian evidence of their misdeeds.” This was a misdeed and it was by one of those responsible for the science accident.
“Give me something I can act upon.” Ms. Primrose could act on dead rodents in the school refrigerator. It might not have been her intent, she might not even care about the bugs and birds on the shelves, but it would satisfy the criteria she’d set. At least, Caden hoped it would.
He felt rising pride. This might work. Caden pulled out his phone. He took pictures of the gross things. When he opened the freezer, the light inside was off and the phone’s camera flashed.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Wait.” Jane grabbed his wrist. “Do that again.”
As it was an order, Caden waited and took another picture. Then he saw what Jane had seen. There was writing on the inside of the refrigerator. It was only visible under the white light of the flash. So there were runes here, hidden just like those in the science room.
The more evidence, the better. Caden turned, set the flash to on, and took pictures everywhere he could. The flash also illuminated runes on the shiny counters and floors that they hadn’t seen before.
He froze. There, in the middle of the counter, he saw something that wasn’t a rune. It was a word, written in Ashevillian letters. This could be Ashevillian proof. Carefully, he put the letters together in his head. He sounded out the word. And then his blood went cold.
It was a name.
Maden.
He reached out and traced the counter. Like the auditorium wall, there was a strange heat emanating from it. He felt frozen.
“Caden,” Jane said. “We have to go.”
He blinked at her. “Yes.” They could decipher everything later.
“No more time,” she said, and pulled him toward the doorway.
They collided with Ms. Jackson at the edge of the cafeteria proper. She had clumps of rice and squash in her hair. It seemed Brynne’s distraction had worked. “What are you doing?” she said. “Get out of my kitchen.”
An order. Caden stepped out.
Jane followed him. “Sorry, Ms. Jackson,” she said, though she didn’t sound it.
The cafeteria was not the orderly eating area he’d left. Half the tables were flipped over. Rice oozed down the rock wall. Mr. Bellows still had a bird on his head. Perhaps he was considering reanimating it. Mrs. Belle was a risotto-covered lump with bloodred fingernails. Derek had squash sticking out of his ear. For her part, Brynne was sitting in the middle of it all, spotless and smiling. She winked at Caden.
Rath Dunn was in the middle of the chaos like a red wolf in a field of cooked bird and white rice. His voice boomed through the cafeteria. “What is this school coming to these days?” There was a gleeful edge to his voice. “Students, get to your tables. Turn them upright. Sit. Now, people. I’ve had enough.”
Both orders. Caden hurried to his usual table, sliding on squashed squash. Jane followed close behind.
Rath Dunn stalked over toward them. He leaned over Brynne. “This, young lady,” he said as he waved over the destruction, “might help me. Throwing food is still against the rules, though. I’m going to have to give you detention. Good thing, too. I’ve been needing to see you alone.”
Her smile faltered. “I was sitting here the whole time,” Brynne squeaked out. “I threw no food.”
“It was magic,” Rath Dunn growled. “Mind magic, the magic of a sorceress. Don’t play dumb with me,” he said. “I’ll teach you a lesson come this afternoon.” Then a slow smile crept across his face. “Or we could see what Ms. Primrose says. She might have tougher, toothier consequences in mind.” He leaned down and spoke right in Brynne’s ear. “First I need that hair, though. If you’re good, I’ll leave you your scalp.”
Brynne turned the color of day-old snow. She smoothed her hair over her shoulder and clenched her fist around it. “Stay away from my hair,” she said.
But she needn’t be scared, Caden realized. He cleared his throat. “You’re mistaken.”
Slowly, Rath Dunn turned toward him. “You’ll get your lesson soon enough, boy. And it will be painful.”
No. It would be Rath Dunn who would learn a lesson. His ritual magic master would soon be on Ms. Primrose’s dragon-sized plate. Also, the quest had taught Caden something. Ms. Primrose could only punish those who broke the school rules. He doubted there were school rules against telekinesis magic. Magic was myth to the locals.
“She’s done nothing punishable,” he said. “There are no rules against magic here. Magic is as unknown as ritual science sabotage. Ms. Primrose can’t do anything if there is no Ashevillian evidence that Brynne’s done something wrong.”
Rath Dunn stroked his beard, then laughed as if it were the funniest thing he’d heard all day. Truly, he seemed in an alarmingly good mood. “I suppose I’ll let it slide this time. I’ll catch you four in class.”
Jane made sure Rath Dunn was out of earshot before she spoke. “We found something.”
Caden snuck his phone from his pocket and held it under the table between him and Brynne. He showed her the pictures of the refrigerator contents. Then the runes.
“What do you think?” he said.
“Ritual magic.”
“I know.”
“More than one spell.”
“I know,” Caden said. “I’ll use the pictures to prove misdeeds.”
Jane and Tito leaned forward. Brynne glanced around to make sure none of the teachers were looking, then took his phone and held it near her lap. She flipped through the pictures again, pausing on the one of refrigerator ingredients and again on the one with the name.
Caden’s heart was in his throat. “What do you think it means?” he said.
Brynne frowned at the phone, then snuck it back to him. “There’s a name,” she said. She twisted her hands together under the table. “Maden.”
Caden fidgeted. If his brother’s name was part of a spell, that meant he was in danger. Maybe Maden was the next member of his family to be pulled from the Greater Realm to the happy Land of Shadow. Maybe they needed something from him for Rath Dunn’s spell. Or maybe they’d curse or kill him. His name in the kitchen could mean many things. “Is my brother Maden being targeted?”
Jane and Tito exchanged a glance.
Brynne took a deep breath. “I don’t know that much about ritual magic. It’s not my specialty, prince.”
“You know enough,” Caden said. “Tell me.”
“On the counter, there are runes for ‘roots.’ Roots in the Greater Realm are thought to grow from one land to another. They are said to connect distant places. And it seems likely the dead plants were used to fuel the spell. Combined with the ingredients in the refrigerator, it could be a spell of complicity.” She looked down. “We’ve suspected Rath Dunn was in contact with someone. This could be how. Dark magic for a dark goal.”
Caden felt strangely numb. “You think he is communicating with someone about Maden?”
“No, prince. I think it is Maden he is communicating with.”
Caden stared at her. “Maybe you’re wrong,” he said.
“Maybe,” she said softly. “But it’s a rare occurrence.”
Caden wanted to argue. He stared at a cooked hen on the floor and resisted the urge to start cleaning.
Once, while teaching, Rath Dunn had spoken of Occam’s razor. It wasn’t an enchanted shaving device. It was the idea that the simple answer was often the best. Or worst, it seemed to Caden, in the case of his brother.
Maden was second born. Unlike eighth-born Caden, he was only one brother away from the throne. Maybe sixth-born Chadwin, agile of body and mind, had suspected Maden had ambitions and had gotten in the way of them? And if Maden was communicating with Rath Dunn, first-born Valon, all of Caden’s brothers, and his father would be in great danger.
But why? Rath Dunn had tried to subjugate Razzon, subjugate the Greater Realm as a whole. His campaign left scars on the Springlands and Winterlands, his terror stretched as far as the turning deserts of the Summerlands. Maden had fought against Rath Dunn in that war. He’d fought with their brothers. Why would he now work with Rath Dunn? And how could he have blamed Jasan, who, while surly, had done nothing wrong?
Did they want to conquer the realm together, then try to kill each other for the throne? Was Maden capable of that? Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe the name and spell didn’t mean what they suspected. Ritual magic, after all, wasn’t Brynne’s specialty.
Could Maden truly be the traitor?
Before long, the villainous teachers ordered everyone to clean up and prepare for their afternoon classes. Caden told his friends he’d meet them in math. He ducked between two rows of pale pink lockers. When he was certain no one was watching, he pulled his phone from his pocket, shielded it, and looked at the name on the counter once more.
Once, when Caden was very small, Maden had carried him on his shoulders. Neither Jasan nor Valon nor any of the others had done that. Not even Chadwin had done that. Even then, Caden could tell Maden was strong. Gifts were said to emphasize and reflect a person’s natural predilections.
Caden reconsidered his family’s gifts. His father was gifted in resolution. His will was iron; he was determined and steadfast. If Caden was honest, and he always was, his father was also unyielding when there was no reason for him to be so. He could be relentless. Not always in a good way.
First-born Valon, gifted with leadership, could be unbearably domineering.
Second-born Maden, gifted in strength, was strong of body, strong of will. He was ambitious. Had he also become power mad?
Perhaps the gifts reflected not only virtues but also vices.
Third-born Lucian was stealthy but also sneaky, fourth-born Martin had accuracy but was a terrible perfectionist, fifth-born Landon was gifted with fortitude yet was stubborn. Sixth-born Chadwin had been agile in mind and body. He’d also been indecisive. And Jasan was quick in all things, including his temper.
Caden, eighth born, was gifted in speech. As far as he knew, it had no dark side.
He put the phone in his pocket and pushed away thoughts of Maden and the Greater Realm. If he gave Ms. Primrose the evidence, it would surely put his brother Maden in danger. It would implicate him in Rath Dunn’s evil plans.
But a prince must always complete his quest.
Before the math bell rang, he needed to see Ms. Primrose. She’d not been in the halls lately, but the school had been colder than usual. Students kept hearing rumbling like thunder, but they’d heard it when there were no storm clouds. He feared she would eat someone, anyone, soon. He hurried down the long hall.
Despite his despair, he also felt a glimmer of pride. Not only was he going to complete the quest, he was going to do it a day early. At the end of the hall, Mr. Creedly sat behind his mahogany desk. When he saw Caden, he stretched up and sneered.
“You are foolish, young one, to venture near me,” he said.
Caden stayed beyond his reach. He stayed beyond the reach of the shadows on the walls behind him also. Mr. Creedly and his swarm wouldn’t attack during school hours. At least, Caden didn’t think he would. The oak door to Ms. Primrose’s office was closed. “I must speak to her,” Caden said. “She’s waiting for me.”
“She isn’t.”
“She is. Let me in.”
Mr. Creedly cocked his head. “She’s not here today,” he hissed. “She’s talking to parents. Away. Downtown.” He took a step closer to Caden. “You can’t see her.”
Perhaps it was time for Caden to smartly run away. He moved back. “When will she return?”
Mr. Creedly slunk closer. The shadows behind him lengthened. He paused to check the planner on his desk. “Tomorrow,” he said, and stretched ever closer.
With a nod, Caden turned and sprinted back down the long hall.
He made it safely to unlucky locker twelve-four. As he reached for his math book, the blood-dagger wound on his arm started to throb. A moment later, Rath Dunn grabbed his arm and pushed him back against his locker. It made a noticeable bang.
Two girls from Caden’s science class stood nearby. One, Victoria, with blond hair and tanned skin, gasped. The second, Tamera, with chin-length dark hair and medium brown skin, reached into her pocket as if to pull out a cell phone.
Rath Dunn peered at them. “Nothing to see here, ladies,” he said in a low growl. “And if that’s a cell phone, Tamera, it’ll mean detention.”
Caden smiled at them. “I’m okay,” he said.
They inched away and whispered to themselves.
“For now,” Rath Dunn said. He spoke harshly in his ear. “I need to speak with you alone. You see, boy, I’ve decided to make you one more offer. Well,” he said, and sighed dramatically. “Your brother insisted. He wants me to woo you to our side. Thinks you’re malleable.”
“I belong to the side of the righteous.”
“Yes, you’re hopeless. That’s been established.” He raised his other arm and put it over his heart. “But a deal is a deal. And I agreed to try. You should be happy. He only wants you dead if necessary.” He leaned closer. “Now, listen, son of Axel.”
It was an order. Caden had no choice but to listen, his heart pounding.
“Here’s the deal.” He knew Caden would not agree to any deal. “I still need that sorceress’s hair. She trusts you. Tell no one.” An order. “Bring me the sorceress’s braid. Cut it near her neck.”
A weird tingling shot through Caden’s arms and fingers. Oh, no. Those were orders, too.
“That is, unless you want me to do it. I can’t promise not to take her scalp with her hair, however. Or even the head with the scalp.” Rath Dunn raised his brows. “You look terrified,” he said. “Finally. As you should.” He released Caden and stepped away. “But do that, and I’ll consider you useful. Maybe I’ll even spare you some pain, once I’m in power.” He leaned closer. “If not, well, you can’t say I didn’t offer, can you?” he said, and laughed as he let Caden go and walked away.
Caden stood stunned. Rath Dunn knew not what he’d just done. Truly, Caden was cursed. Three orders:
Tell no one.
Cut her hair near her neck.
Bring it to Rath Dunn.
If Rath Dunn didn’t kill him, Brynne certainly would.
But even as he panicked, he knew he would obey.
Caden tried to force himself to cut Brynne’s hair in the middle of class and, later, at the kitchen table—both at times he expected someone would stop him. But he couldn’t do it. It was as if doing so with assured failure was the same as disobeying. He tried to tell them, but found that the orders prevented him from doing that, too.
Rosa had made him his favorite Ashevillian meal: trout tacos. It had the uncomfortable feel of a last meal.
“You’re not eating,” she said.
“I’m not hungry.”
Likely, Rosa thought his lack of appetite was because of his impending visit to the caseworker the next day. It was true that he was nervous about that. Now, however, he was more worried about what he might do to Brynne—and what Brynne would do to him if he succeeded and cut her hair. He looked across the table at her. He needed to warn her somehow.
Her hair hung loose around her shoulders. Here with Rosa and her friends, Brynne seemed to feel safe. But she wasn’t, not tonight. When Caden kept staring, she arched her brows.
“Is my beauty blinding you?”
“Take care of your hair,” he said.
Rosa’s frown deepened. Likely, he was doing nothing to persuade her that he was sane. But the curse gave him no choice.
Caden leaned forward. “You must be careful, Brynne.”
Tito was on taco number five. He leaned over and whispered, “Stop saying weird stuff.”
“As you wish,” Caden said.
“Caden,
” Rosa said gently, “is something wrong? You can tell me. I do want to help.”
But he couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t tell any of them. “A kind offer. But I can’t say what’s wrong.” His friends didn’t even seem suspicious. They probably thought he couldn’t speak because of Tito’s order. He turned to his taco. A future Elite Paladin needed to keep a healthy diet, and he hadn’t eaten much this week. Rosa wouldn’t believe him anyway.
After dinner, while Rosa tinkered with her art, they sat on the porch. The air was cool, and there was an earthy smell in the evening mist. The half-moon hung low in the sky. Caden scowled at it.
He had to make the others understand. He tried mimicking something like hair cutting, but it seemed the closest he could do was sword form number three.
“It’s too late to practice,” Tito said.
It was never too late to practice, but that wasn’t Caden’s aim. “No,” Caden said. He pointed to Brynne, then spelled out “C-A-R-E-F-U-L” on his phone. He showed the others.
Jane looked at it and smiled. “You spelled a word,” she said.
He sat a little straighter. Perhaps spelling contests had some value after all. “Careful,” he said.
Brynne seemed less impressed. “Careful? You’re making even less sense than usual.”
Caden couldn’t say “I’m going to cut off your hair tonight and take it to Rath Dunn” although he felt most certainly that he was going to do so. “Rath Dunn still wants your hair. It’s an ingredient in his spell.”
“We already know that,” Brynne said.
“You’re in danger.”
“I know. But you know who will be in real danger. The person who tries to cut my hair.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Anyone trying will regret it.”
Caden already regretted it. He got a paper and pen, but all he could write was “be vigilant” in the common tongue. It seemed writing and speaking both counted as telling.
Tito leaned forward. “Okay, weirdo, I order you to tell me what’s wrong.”
An order. But Rath Dunn had given him the order first, and as he had learned, the order given to him first was the one he must obey. The clearest Caden could communicate was “I’m worried for tomorrow.”
