The Schism (The Broken Prism Book 4)

by V. St. Clair

  “You don’t see any servants lurking around, do you?” Oliver sneered.

  Hayden scowled. “This is going to be the worst winter holiday I’ve ever had, and that includes being at the orphanage in Merina.”

  “It’s no picnic for Lorn and I either, having you here,” the older boy retorted. “If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.”

  “Not until I get my stuff back.” Hayden assured him defiantly. “I’ll play whatever games I have to play, and learn whatever I have to learn, no matter how many times your mother smacks me for it.”

  “Then you might stand a chance at winning,” Oliver conceded.

  “I’m beginning to understand why you and Lorn are such snots. I used to think my mom was strict when she sent me to bed without dessert, but she never punched me in the head for simple breaches of etiquette.”

  Oliver shrugged, unoffended. “My mother is powerful and influential in the magical community, and your mother was as common as they come. You don’t get to be where we are by being common; you get there by being fantastic at everything you do and playing the game better than everyone else.”

  Hayden momentarily considered punching him for insulting his mother, but then considered that he had kind of insulted Magdalene Trout, and that punching Oliver would likely be considered a breach of etiquette worthy of getting him slapped again.

  “Fine, then let’s put on our friendly faces and you can tour me around this small city before dinner.”

  Oliver nodded and opened the door, unconsciously straightening his posture and leading Hayden back into the hall. Bonk took flight and soared above them, obviously keen on touring the place for himself, which didn’t appear to bother Oliver because he didn’t comment on it as they walked.

  Hayden straightened his own posture as well, determined not to give anyone reason to criticize him if he could avoid it.

  I’ll show the entire Trout family how fast a Frost can learn.

  They wandered idly through the house, moving from room to room while Oliver pointed out all the things of interest and the household staff came and went. They were nothing but pleasant to each other on the surface, which felt odd but also entertaining, because there was an art form to conveying one’s dislike for another while being as overtly friendly as possible. It gave him a whole new perspective on how adults dealt with each other, and he wondered how many of the Council members actually liked each other, or how many of the teachers at Mizzenwald for that matter, and how much was just posturing for others.

  Hayden’s stomach was growling by the time Oliver led him to the formal dining hall for dinner. Hayden was pleased to note that it was considerably smaller than the formal dining room at the Frost estate, which was intended to seat at least forty.

  Magdalene and Lorn were already there, seated at one end of the table for twenty, where there were four plates and sets of silverware laid out. Hayden was a little daunted by how many forks, knives, spoons, and plates of different sizes were spread out for each of them.

  The dish washers must cry every time they say they’re expecting guests.

  “We’re eating in the formal dining room because I seem to recall your struggle with table manners the last time we met in Kargath,” Magdalene explained before he could ask.

  Hayden felt his face burn at the memory of his second year at school, when the Council had decided to check up on him over breakfast and he had violated nearly every law of etiquette that existed in front of the most important mages in the Nine Lands.

  “I wasn’t aware that the trial would be held over dinner,” he answered carefully, taking a seat across from her and beside Lorn, wondering if sarcasm was still allowed.

  At least she can’t reach me easily from over there.

  “It won’t, but staging it right after a meal is the sort of thing they might do to throw you off balance. If you’re embarrassed or flustered you will be easier to beat, and I don’t yet know how Calahan will play things during your trial, so we must prepare for everything.”

  A servant in blue entered the room and placed a bowl of thin soup in front of each of them before departing.

  “The spoon on your far right is for the soup. You’ll note that it is shorter and deeper than the others,” Mrs. Trout continued effortlessly, while Hayden examined the spoon in his hand and tried to commit it to memory. “It’s important not to begin eating until everyone has been served and the staff have left the room. It’s considered to be in poor taste to consume the entirety of any one course, though it’s not an unforgivable offense and is sometimes done. Still, when eating the soup, you should stop before you can see the bottom of the bowl, as a general rule. You should also pace yourself with the other diners at the table, so as not to finish too rapidly or too slowly, which also serves to moderate the amount of talking any one person at the table can do before they’re forced to shut up and eat.”

  Hayden had no idea that there was so much effort involved in eating a bowl of soup, and tried to be mindful of everything he was told while darting glances at Oliver and Lorn for cues. Mrs. Trout eventually had to take her own advice and stop lecturing long enough to finish her soup—though of course, she left a little at the bottom of the bowl so as to be proper.

  “Pat your mouth with your napkin,” she informed him upon finishing.

  “But I didn’t get any soup on my face,” Hayden pointed out cautiously.

  “That doesn’t really matter, it’s considered polite.”

  What have I gotten myself into?

  The bread course followed the soup, during which Hayden learned the function of the butter knife, the drizzling spoon, and the aptly-named bread fork. Next there was a fish stew, which involved some of the already-used plates and cutlery being removed from the table while new ones of different sizes and functionality were put down. It felt like a giant game of shuffle, but with dishes, all played to the tune of Mrs. Trout explaining the rules behind using each and every one of them.

  By the end of dinner, Hayden was fairly certain his brain was going to explode if he had to retain another ounce of new knowledge tonight. He rose when Lorn did, and was preparing to head back to his room to rest when Magdalene informed him that she would send along his reading assignment for the night.

  I’ve got homework?!

  He was utterly exhausted from continuous nightmares and the strange day he’d had, and all he wanted to do was collapse into bed and pray for dreamless sleep.

  Instead, when she knocked on his door fifteen minutes later carrying a six-hundred page tome about estate law and informed him that she wanted him to read the first four chapters tonight, he said, “Thank you for the opportunity to increase my knowledge.”

  She smirked and said, “Not quite convincing in the sincerity department, but at least you’re a quick learner.”

  And she left him to his reading.

  It was quite possibly the most tedious, boring book Hayden had ever tried to sift through in his entire life. He yawned widely and struggled to stay awake, only two chapters into the material in the same number of hours. Bonk was rolling around on top of the bed sheets, clearly enjoying the luxurious fabrics, while Hayden sat cross-legged in bed and re-read the same paragraph about a law that was established three-hundred years ago and the case it was based on for the fourth time.

  He blinked and must have fallen asleep, because when he snapped awake it was much later at night, and his neck ached from being slumped over awkwardly for so long. He cursed the nightmare that had woken him up, in which the Magistra came back to life and murdered Tess in front of him, though he supposed he should be thankful that he could finish his reading for the night. The last thing he needed was to get in trouble for not finishing his homework on his first day here.

  Thinking that a glass of water might be nice, he climbed out of bed without disturbing Bonk (who refused to sleep on any perch) and crept quietly from the room.

  The house looked strange with most of the lights out and the people gone, large
and eerie. His footsteps sounded loud to him as he padded down the hallway, trying to remember the path to the kitchen or one of the bathrooms for a sink. He must have taken a wrong turn at some point, because he found himself back in the library without knowing how he got there.

  He was about to turn and leave, but then noticed a gas lamp that was on near a reading alcove, and he approached it curiously, wondering who else was awake at this hour.

  It was Magdalene Trout. He tried to back away before she could see him but didn’t move fast enough, and with a snap she shut her book and said, “Hayden, what are you doing out here at this hour?”

  Caught, he stepped into the light and said, “Sorry, I was going to get a glass of water but I got turned around, and then I saw a light on over here so I came to investigate.”

  To his surprise, she motioned for him to sit in a down-stuffed chair opposite her. He wondered if she was about to chew him out for being nosy.

  “Have you finished the reading I assigned you?”

  “Half of it, but then I fell asleep. I just woke up from a nightmare and was going to get a drink before I tackled the rest of it.” He frowned.

  “How do you find it so far?” she asked with polite interest.

  Hayden made a face and said, “Truthfully? It’s the most boring thing my eyes have ever attempted to scan, and I only understand half of what it’s telling me.”

  Magdalene chuckled, looking much more human than the crisp, stern appearance she kept up during the day.

  “Yes, it can be very boring. It will set the groundwork for our discussions tomorrow though, so it is important to wade through it as best you can.” She paused for a moment and then added, “Why are you having nightmares?”

  Surprised by the change of subject, Hayden said, “I only mentioned the one.”

  Mrs. Trout waved a dismissive hand at this. “You looked exhausted when I came to get you from your friend’s house, in a way that suggests you’ve lost more than a single night of rest.”

  Annoyed that it was so obvious, Hayden muttered something about the Forest of Illusions and having a lot on his mind.

  “Don’t tell me you’re upset because you fought in a war and won.” The stern look from earlier was on her face once more. “You’re being hailed as a hero; I’m told you received a Medal of Heroism from the High Mayor, even after all that trouble with the Fias at Mizzenwald.”

  “The medal is half the problem,” Hayden blurted out. “I don’t deserve such a high honor for taking down those Suppressors. I didn’t even know what I was doing at the time, or that there was a chance I’d be horribly killed by magical backlash for even trying it. If I had, I might not have been brave enough to even attempt it. I was just running around the Forest, making things up as I went, and I got lucky.”

  “I agree,” Mrs. Trout nodded. “You don’t deserve a medal for dumb luck. You could have been replaced by any magically-inclined idiot who happened to have three-inch Focus-correctors and we probably would have gotten the same result.”

  Stunned at having someone finally agree with him when everyone else insisted on telling him what a great mage he was, Hayden said, “Well, yeah. So every time I look at the stupid thing, I feel like a fraud.”

  “Unless you stole the medal, you aren’t a fraud. Whether you deserved it or not, you won it, and there’s no point feeling apologetic over it. Most of us got some kind of recognition from that skirmish in the Forest of Illusions, and some of those people did nothing but lie around moaning in their cages while the rest of us scraped up the Source power to keep fighting.” She spared the unknown mages in her mind a brief look of disdain. “My point is that it doesn’t matter. If they hadn’t rewarded you, it would have gone to someone else who likely deserved it even less.”

  Hayden considered this for a moment and felt oddly reassured.

  There must be something wrong with me if all it takes is someone telling me how useless I am to make me feel better.

  “I know this is going to sound stupid, but in some ways my life was simpler when everyone shunned me for being the Dark Prism’s son,” Hayden continued, not sure why he was confiding these thoughts to his enemies’ mother when he hadn’t even shared them with his closest friends. “At least then I knew who my real friends were. Now I’m suddenly popular, and every time someone new wants to be buddies, I have to try and figure out whether they actually like me or they’re just trying to suck up because they think I’m going to be famous and powerful someday.”

  To his surprise, Magdalene Trout smiled at him and said, “That is a feeling that the famous and powerful know very well.” Her smile took on a biting edge. “After my late husband’s involvement with your father’s schemes was discovered, I found out who my real friends were, as the Trouts rapidly fell out of favor in society. When I resolved the issue with my husband and fought tooth-and-nail to climb back to the top of the food chain, suddenly I became much more popular and all my old friends came hurrying back.”

  Oliver had told Hayden during the last school year that his mother had killed his father after his role as a conspirator with the Dark Prism was discovered. He was a little surprised that Mrs. Trout could talk about such a sensitive issue without flinching.

  “Didn’t that make you furious?”

  She gave that a moment of thought before answering. “Not really. It actually proved quite informative, as it let me know who my true allies were. It’s important to classify the people in your life when you have the kind of wealth and power that we possess, Hayden. Even false friends and—occasionally—enemies can be useful when they serve their purpose.”

  “How so?”

  “Take Oliver, for instance.” Mrs. Trout smirked at the look on his face. “I know you have despised each other since the moment you met, and that will likely never change. Still, you took him with you when you left school last year to come to the Forest of Illusions on a fool’s mission. Why?”

  Hayden frowned. “Well, mostly because he volunteered, and even though I think he’s an arrogant snot, I’ve seen what he can do in a fight and I knew he wouldn’t change his mind and bail on us halfway there.”

  She nodded encouragingly and said, “In essence, because even though you dislike him, there are things about him you admire and can rely on. And even though my son insists that you’re a waste of Source power and have no proper familial pride, he still asked to go with you, because he knew that if anyone could find a way to get it done, it would be you.”

  Beginning to understand, Hayden asked, “So that’s why you guys spend so much time smiling and charming people you don’t even like in public, and then secretly wishing them to an early grave in private?” He had thought it was a ridiculous waste of energy when he first arrived today and was told he had to play nice for the benefit of others.

  “Civilities do matter,” she confirmed with a shrug. “You never know when you’ll find yourself needing a temporary alliance with someone who you previously had no interest in. Besides, we mages are a fairly tight-knit community. If word gets out that you’re openly hostile with someone, others can use that against you when they’re formulating their own plans.”

  “So all of us Great Houses and other powerful people spend our time at parties with dozens of people we don’t even like, being as friendly as possible, just so no one else can get the advantage of us by knowing who we’re actually close to?”

  “In a nutshell, yes.”

  For some reason it didn’t sound as stupid as it had earlier today, perhaps because he was finally beginning to wrap his head around what it took to survive as an adult mage in the world.

  “You should get back to bed and finish your reading,” Mrs. Trout changed the subject abruptly. “I won’t go easy on you tomorrow just because you’re tired; we simply don’t have time for it.”

  Hayden nodded and stood up to leave.

  “There is a bathroom down the hallway to your left, if you’re still looking for a glass of water.” She pointed.

>   “Thanks.” He walked to the threshold of the library before he turned and added, “Thanks for talking to me too.”

  She waved a dismissive hand in acknowledgement, not looking up from her book, and Hayden went to get a drink of water.

  He spent the next hour in bed finishing his assigned reading, which was nearly as dull as the first two chapters had been, careful not to wake Bonk with his page-turning. Finally he shut the book and slid under the covers, falling asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

  For the first time in weeks, he had no nightmares.

  Hayden sprang awake at the knock on his door and hastened to answer it, still dressed in his clothes from the day before. A startled-looking woman informed him that breakfast would be ready in fifteen minutes in the casual dining room, taking in his disheveled appearance with raised eyebrows. Hayden thanked her and closed the door, still blinking to focus his eyes.

  Given that he was up so late last night, he felt surprisingly energetic as he changed clothing and attempted to flatten his hair, prodding a sleeping Bonk as he passed the bed to wake his familiar.

  Probably because this is the first time in weeks I haven’t been woken every few minutes by bad dreams.

  “Come on, you lazy dragon, we’ve got breakfast,” he insisted on his second pass of the room, examining himself in front of the mirror to make sure he didn’t look too rumpled.

  Nothing could wake Bonk faster than the promise of food, and the dragon hopped to his feet and flapped his wings a few times to stretch them for flight while Hayden fastened the prism circlet around his forehead and put on his belt of other magical instruments.

  Bonk perched on his shoulder as Hayden left the bedroom and made his way down the hall, mentally calling up the path to the casual dining room from his tour the day before as he went. He was pleasantly surprised when he found the right room without making any wrong turns, and entered just behind Lorn.

  The casual dining room was much smaller than the formal one from the night before, and Hayden took his place at a table designed to seat six. The room faced the gardens on the west side of the manor, with the entire western wall made of paneled glass to allow the sunlight in. He immediately liked this room better than any of the others he’d been in so far, because it felt open and airy and not oppressively large.