by V. St. Clair
“Well, um…it was one of the things I brought to you at the beginning of the year…” he said to Master Asher, looking for some sign that it was alright to divulge their secret to the others.
The Prism Master waved a hand in resignation and said, “Hayden found a treasure or two at his father’s old estate last winter. One of them was a scrap of cloth with a sorcerer’s sigla drawn on it.”
Kilgore and Willow stared at their colleague as though he was speaking a different language. Finally the former said, “And I don’t suppose you saw fit to turn over these treasures to the Council of Mages?”
“Totally slipped my mind,” Asher said with a hint of his usual humor. “The boy told me that his blood was capable of opening hidden doors in the Frost estate; what do you think the Council would have done with that knowledge?”
Master Willow winced minutely and Kilgore merely shrugged.
“So you’ve been running around all year with your father’s old weapons in your possession?” the former asked in a dangerous tone.
“Give me a little credit,” Asher interrupted before Hayden could answer. “I took the prism from him for further study. I only left him the sigla because it looked like nothing more than a drawing on a scrap of fabric. I didn’t feel any magic coming from it at all.”
Willow waved a hand in concession and motioned for Hayden to continue his story.
“Well, anyway, I had the siglas on my hands and the sorcerers kind of panicked and went to find someone who speaks our language. Oliver and I didn’t know who the sigla belonged to at that point, but when Mikesh showed up and told us to come with him we thought maybe we could get some scouting done and then find a way to escape and warn the next wave of reinforcements about the magic-dampeners before they walked into a trap.”
“So you were brought to the Magistra,” Master Willow sighed. “Oliver told us that neither of you knew who she was until you’d nearly talked your way into an impossible situation.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t really expecting her to be a young lady…” Hayden admitted. “But she thought my father was still alive, so I put on my best ‘Great House’ voice like Oliver’s been teaching me, and tried to convince her that we were there on his behalf.”
Master Asher gave him a wry smile and said, “At some point I want to hear about how you and Oliver Trout survived weeks of travel together without maiming each other, and why he was teaching you to be snotty.”
Hayden made a face at him and the Master laughed, looking more like his normal self than before.
“Anyway, she was touring us around the camp, and she explained about the Suppressor crystals. I told Oliver to start arming people out of our bag of weapons, because I knew we couldn’t just leave you all there to suffer any longer, and I was working up to doing something really stupid.”
Master Kilgore snorted in amusement at his willingness to admit his own idiocy.
“We’d been there for months; we could have lasted a while longer while you went to warn the reinforcements,” he insisted dryly.
“Those of us who had Mastery Charms were particularly fortunate,” Asher explained to him. “The sorcerers didn’t think to take them from us, either because they thought they were decorative or because they just didn’t care if we kept them.” He shrugged. “We were able to channel some of our magic through them to bypass those damnable golden taps they stuck into our chests. It let us slip into an almost sleeplike state and allowed us some reserve power in case we were ever freed and needed to fight.”
Hayden brightened in understanding. “I was wondering why you all seemed to bounce back faster than the others once you were free.”
“Us and the Council members were fortunate, yes. It’s lucky that there were so many of us with Mastery Charms available or we would have been annihilated as soon as we were freed from our cages.”
“How did they trap you, anyway?” Hayden frowned.
Master Willow made a face as though recalling something distasteful. “When we crossed the barriers of the Suppressors and realized our magic was useless, they sprang a trap from behind us and drove us further into the woods. It wasn’t terribly difficult to overwhelm us at that point, though we did manage to whittle down a few of their number before we were all caged and chained.”
“Cinder actually escaped captivity for a while, being at his strongest and also able to fly out of reach,” Asher pointed out. “He kept coming back to try and free me and Horace, though he also picked off a few sorcerers before they managed to ensnare him as well.”
The Prism Master fell silent for a moment before adding, “I wish he’d succeeded. Horace died soon after Cinder was caught.”
Hayden gasped in horror and reflexively squeezed Bonk for reassurance that his familiar was still there with him. He could think of few things that would be worse than to lose his trusted companion, even if that companion liked to eat all of his food and make him look like an idiot in front of important members of society.
“Anyway, back to what you were doing,” Asher pointedly changed the subject. “You were getting ready to commit to suicidal idiocy…”
“Oh, right.” Hayden shook his head to clear it and immediately regretted it. “Since the Magistra said the main invasion force was due in that day, I didn’t think we could afford to run away and come back later. But before I could really plan anything, Felix showed up and started drawing the sorcerers’ attention, and then Zane and Tess charged in and started fighting. Oliver was wrestling the Magistra, so I decided to start taking down the Suppressors so we could use magic again.”
“Didn’t you hear me call out to you before you went to the first one?” Asher raised an eyebrow at him.
“I heard you yell something but I didn’t hear what it was.” Hayden shrugged. “Why? What did you say?”
Asher pursed his lips and said, “I told you not to attack the crystals—though in retrospect I’m glad you ignored me.” He sighed. “Didn’t you wonder why you were the only one who was going for them?”
Hayden’s eyes widened in surprise and he slowly said, “Well, yes…I had wondered, but there wasn’t a lot of time to think about it. Why?”
“Because we’re not stupid, Hayden. As we were being driven into their camp, a few of us recognized the crystals and knew what they must be for. Two of our companions tried to break them, and they were both killed hideously by the magical backlash—it was like the worst case of tangential magical spillage I’ve ever seen.”
Master Kilgore frowned gravely and added, “I’d never seen such horrible internal burns that they were visible from the outside.” He shuddered. “The best thing that could be said is that they died quickly and didn’t have to suffer for long—the poor things were cooked through.”
Hayden’s face felt bloodless as the significance of this washed over him. If he had any idea that he was going to get his Foci cooked to death, he never would have been brave enough to attempt to break the crystals with magic.
“Fortunately, your Focus-correctors seem to be what saved you,” Master Willow conceded. “They must have absorbed an enormous amount of magic to shield you from the worst of the backlash.”
Hayden nodded dumbly and said, “When the first one broke I felt my wrists burning. It was worse with the second, and I had to take one of my healing elixirs. Then the third cracked my correctors, and the last one shattered them completely and my skin was all blistered and bleeding. I used the last of my elixirs to keep from passing out from the pain.”
He stared down at his bandaged arms for a long moment and then said, “That must be why the sorcerers didn’t really start coming for me until I’d taken down the first one—because they thought it would burn me alive. After that it felt like everyone in the camp was coming after me. I had to shield myself constantly or I never would have made it.”
“You weren’t imagining it, Hayden: they were all coming after you,” Master Asher frowned. “They knew that if they lost the crystals they’d lose the upper-hand,
since we had superior numbers at that point. Why do you think so many mages and animals sacrificed themselves to get between you and the enemy?”
“What do you mean?” Hayden demanded, his mouth feeling oddly dry again.
Master Willow looked surprised that he didn’t already know, and when he spoke his tone was very gentle.
“Once Asher saw the first crystal go down he yelled at everyone to shield you. You were being hit with dozens of spells at a time—your own charms and shielding attempts would never have been enough to defend against them all. Everyone who wasn’t attacking a sorcerer directly was casting protection spells at you while you ran, because you were our only hope for victory. Many mages fell because they weren’t able to defend themselves and shield you at the same time, and they knew you were more important.”
Hayden felt strangely hollow inside, his throat constricting with emotion. He remembered Asher yelling something, though he hadn’t heard what it was because he’d been too busy destroying crystals. He even vaguely remembered seeing a mage get overwhelmed because he was busy protecting him, but he had no idea that people had given their lives to save him without him even knowing it, people he had never met before in his life.
The Masters let the silence spiral horribly while Hayden digested this new information. Bonk nudged him gently with his head, and Hayden patted him absentmindedly.
Finally, Asher broke the silence before it could become unbearable and said, “Bonk and Slasher returned to the fight once they’d gotten Cinder to safety. I must say, I’ve never seen Bonk so angry in all the years I’ve known him. They tore through the camp in a fury, unleashing their magic on anyone who was unlucky enough to cross their path. Dragons are hideously proud creatures, and even Bonk can become fantastically arrogant when one of his kind has been brought low.”
“Good,” Hayden said bitterly, hating the sorcerers for invading their territory and bringing all of this nastiness upon them.
“What happened after the last crystal went down?”
“This stupid monkey kept trying to get my attention, wanting me to follow it into the woods. I was completely exhausted—even my Source was mostly drained—and all I wanted to do was rest for a few minutes, but I finally let it lead me away.” He frowned thoughtfully. “It brought me to the beach, and I saw the Magistra in the water, bringing her three warships full of sorcerers in faster.”
“It figures that the reinforcements were due in that day,” Kilgore grimaced. “How many did she have?”
“I guessed somewhere between three-and-six-hundred,” Hayden shrugged. “Enough to destroy us all and wreck the mainland if they docked, at least. There was no time to get anyone, and even though my correctors were gone I wanted to try starting a fire on the boats to sink them and slow down the sorcerers until I could go get help.”
“There wasn’t a lot of help to be had at that point,” Kilgore grunted. “Fresh troops outnumbering us ten-to-one, we’d have been lucky to escape with our lives.”
Hayden shrugged and said, “The first two times I tried casting nothing happened. Then the Magistra saw me, and she was furious. I knew she was going to kill me, and she raised her hand to cast something so I panicked and tried to burn the middle boat again.”
“Let me guess, third time was the charm?” Asher asked dryly.
“There was a huge surge from my Source, and then the whole boat just exploded. It deafened me and blinded me, and then the two boats beside it got caught up in it and they blew up too. Then I don’t remember much, except for a reindeer and an otter dragging me through some foul water and trying to drown me…”
“Foul water?” Asher cocked a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Why would magical creatures be trying to drown you? They hate the sorcerers as much as we do for invading their home and torturing them to death for their magic.”
“I don’t know, but it made all my wounds burn except for my hands. They just felt cold.”
“Ah, clever.” Asher tilted his head in admiration. “They must have been dragging you through Mystkelp, a rare but powerful substance that is probably one of the only things that would remove the siglas from your hands. If they hadn’t done that for you, you’d likely be branded with them forever.”
Hayden shuddered and looked down at his unblemished hands, suddenly okay with the near-drowning experience.
“Well, now we know who caused the Forest to move locations,” Kilgore sighed. “I believe Reede owes me fifty credits for betting against it.”
“You think it was me that made the whole Forest of Illusions move?” Hayden asked incredulously.
Asher snorted. “Hayden, the Forest isn’t stable on the best of days—you’ve seen how time and space are fluid inside of it. It moves every ten years or so just as a matter of practice.” He focused his gaze on him. “You created an enormous magical explosion, inside of a magically-unstable forest, full of magical creatures and beings who were dueling with magic at the time…and you’re surprised that you rendered the place unstable enough to jump locations?”
Hayden reddened in embarrassment.
“Well, that certainly clears that up.” Kilgore pushed away from the wall. “I’m going to collect my money from Reede before we get back to Mizzenwald and he can claim he’s forgotten our bet.”
“Oh, right, speaking of Mizzenwald…” Hayden brightened suddenly. “Am I still expelled and under arrest?”
The three Masters looked collectively alarmed and Asher said, “Sorry, what was that about being expelled and arrested?”
“Um…didn’t you hear about that?” Hayden winced. “My face has been all over wanted posters throughout at least Junir and Amvale; I’m not sure about the other lands.”
“What in the world are you under arrest for?” Asher demanded.
“Let’s see…I think theft, destruction of school property, punching a Fia in the face, attempted murder on another Fia, and fleeing arrest…” he caught the aghast looks on their faces and said, “It sounds worse than it really was.”
“It sounds pretty bad…” Master Willow countered dryly.
Asher rubbed his temples and said, “Didn’t I specifically tell you not to start trouble with the Fias? And you strike one and attempt to murder another?”
“I wasn’t trying to kill him!” Hayden protested loudly. “I didn’t mean to blow up that part of the school while he was standing there, but luckily he ducked…”
“You blew up part of the school?” Master Willow said through clenched teeth, face reddening.
“Never mind that, which Fia were you foolish enough to hit in the face?” Kilgore interrupted.
“Um, Eldridge, sir.”
Asher closed his eyes like he was praying for strength and Master Kilgore leaned back against the wall and said, “When you decide to start trouble, you really go for the grand effect.”
“Are you sure you couldn’t think of any worse crimes to commit?” Asher asked sardonically. “I suppose it’s lucky you weren’t standing near the hearth or you might have lit him on fire, or perhaps burgled his house, drowned some local orphans…”
“He was—”
Master Willow raised a hand to cut off Hayden’s furious protests and said, “I suppose you’d better go back to the beginning on that as well, so we know just how big of a hole you’ve dug yourself into and whether it’s possibly to pry you back out of it.”
Hayden scowled.
“The Fias showed up and immediately put a ban on materials unless you filled out their stupid forms. They took all the fun out of Mizzenwald, but I was following your orders and being good—until Bonk fell ill. He started having nightmares and stopped eating properly; he never wanted to play anymore. I took him to Torin but he didn’t know what was wrong—he said a lot of familiars were feeling off because of the war in the Forest of Illusions. The Fias started telling us how there’d been word from the front, and that you all were winning again, and everyone was cheering up at school.”
Master Willow raised his eye
brows and said, “That’s a bold move on the part of the High Mayor. He must have been hoping to buy time until he figured out for certain whether the war was won or lost.”
“We all believed them, but then Bonk got even sicker and one day he fell out of the sky. I rushed him to Torin again and he realized that Bonk was feeling Cinder’s pain through some shared magical bond they have because they’re friends. He said Cinder must be in agony if Bonk was feeling it clear back at Mizzenwald. I thought…Cinder’s much stronger than any of us, and if he was suffering, then you all must be dead.”
“There were times I felt dead,” Kilgore grumbled.
“I knew Bonk would die of exhaustion if things kept up the way they were, and that the Fias had been lying to us, so I confronted them in the middle of dinner.”
Asher rolled his eyes and said, “Of course you did, in front of a maximum number of witnesses. I believe I can see why this went downhill fast…”
“Didn’t you make a resolution this year to be less volatile towards authority figures?” Master Willow reminded him dryly.
“Well yeah, but I mostly meant with you all, and apparently I’m a work in progress.” He shrugged unrepentantly.
“I suppose you strolled into the dining hall and called them bold-faced liars?” Asher sighed in exasperation when Hayden nodded agreement. “I need to talk to my father about when he tells you bad news. He should know better than to let you run off after you learn all your teachers are dead.”
“He was a wreck because he thought you were dead too,” Hayden argued, which shut Asher up and made him look somber once more. “Anyway, I yelled at them until Eldridge had his friends put me in Binders and drag me off.”
“I’m surprised you let them Bind you again,” Willow commented. “I would think you’d be much more likely to fight at that point.”
Hayden stared down at his hands and said, “I would have, but Sark yelled at me not to, and for some reason I listened to him. They dragged me off into a room on the ground floor with no furniture or windows and left me alone to stew for a while. If it makes you feel any better, I had time to think through all of the lectures each of you would have given me if you had been there.”
