by V. St. Clair
“I expect so, given the way your mother was grumbling about you when I was asked to come find you,” the Master said with perfect cheer.
Zane’s face blanched alarmingly.
“My mom is here? Now?”
“In the Pentagon, yes. I offered her one of our guest quarters until the end of term, since it seems pointless to send her home without you with only a couple days left.”
Zane rose slowly, looking like a man who was being sent to the gallows to die. Hayden laughed, glad to have his revenge for the being mocked over losing his meal to Bonk.
“Don’t look so cheerful, Frost. She wants you too.”
“HA!” Zane pointed at him, suddenly mollified. “Good, then she’s going to yell at us both.”
Hayden suddenly felt a lot less hungry, and he released Tess’s hand reluctantly and joined Zane on the death-march towards the Pentagon. The walk never felt longer or more nerve-wracking.
“If she starts hitting me, I’m going to hide behind you,” Zane explained hurriedly.
“You wimp—why would you do that?”
Zane scowled and said, “Obviously she’s not going to hit you…you’re not family. So if she’s beating me and I hide behind you then she’ll have to stop.”
“Zane, I doubt your mom is going to whip you. She’s actually a really nice lady, so we’re probably just overreacting to this entire thing…”
“Yeah, hold that thought,” Zane mumbled mutinously as they entered the Pentagon.
Mrs. Laraby was standing in the center of the foyer with her arms folded across her chest, wearing a thick woolen dress with flowers stitched onto it and carrying a long overcoat and mittens. It reminded Hayden that it was actually winter outside of the boundaries of the school.
It took her a moment to hear their approach—she had her back to them and was studying the murals of the major arcana on the walls with interest—but as soon as their footsteps stopped she turned to face them.
“There you two are,” she narrowed her gaze on them like a cat who spotted a nice fat mouse.
Zane tried to affect an air of nonchalance and waved. “Hi, Mom.”
That seemed to be all she needed to get started on her rant.
“How DARE you two run away from school in the middle of the year without telling anyone!” her voice echoed around the five walls of the foyer, magnifying the noise and making it sound like many angry mothers were yelling the words. “Do you have any idea how much the rest of us worried when you never came home for summer holiday and no one could tell us why? How do you think we felt when those horrible posters went up that you were wanted fugitives on the run?” she was switching her gaze between Zane and Hayden, and neither one of them was stupid enough to answer her.
Fortunately she didn’t require one.
“Flory and Victoria cried their eyes out, thinking you were both dead! Then we heard rumors that you were seen in Amvale, that you were in jail awaiting trial in Kargath—only we went to Kargath and heard that you’d escaped and were likely headed to the Forest of Illusions to fight in a war you had no business involving yourselves in!”
She paused and glared at them both with her hands on her hips, apparently waiting for one of them to answer. Zane tried to keep his voice steady as he said, “Well, yeah…”
Mrs. Laraby smacked her son in the face, not hard enough to really hurt, but enough to startle him. The sound reverberated oddly around the foyer.
“But Mrs. Laraby,” Hayden interjected, “the Masters and Council members were being tortured and dying…we had to do something.”
She leaned over and smacked him too, and Hayden felt the light sting in his cheek as his mouth dropped open dumbly in shock.
“I thought you only hit family,” he blurted out, and Zane’s mother frowned.
“Well your mother isn’t here to knock some sense into you, so I’m willing to do it in her stead,” she snapped. “You two are fourteen-years old and undertrained, and you thought you’d waltz into a battle zone after knowing that much more talented mages than you had been overpowered? You’re lucky I don’t bend you over my knee and spank you both like the children you are!”
Hayden took a step back, aghast at the thought of being spanked in the middle of Mizzenwald by a woman who looked more than capable of overpowering him right now, magic or not. Zane looked similarly horrified, obviously reliving some unpleasant childhood memories.
“If you two idiots ever pull a stunt like that again, you’d better hope you die in the process, because if you survive, I’m going to have you chopping firewood until you reach your majority or your arms fall off.”
And with that she seemed to deflate, the anger washing out of her.
“Chopping wood would doubtless be good for both of them,” Master Reede startled them all by speaking up from behind them. Hayden turned and saw him leaning casually against the open window frame, apparently having watched the entire spectacle.
The Master stood upright and moved forward to shake Mrs. Laraby’s hand.
“I’m Reede, by the way, Master of Conjury. It’s a pleasure to meet such a level-headed person in this madhouse.” He smirked. “Pity that none of it rubbed off on your son or young Frost. Still, they did manage to save us in the end, against inconceivable odds, so I suppose their lack of foresight occasionally has its merits.”
Mrs. Laraby was still looking a bit flustered at having an audience to her ranting, though she shook the Master’s hand and recovered nicely.
“You’re Zane’s mentor here?”
Reede shrugged and said, “I’m technically supposed to be mentoring quite a few students—all of the Conjury majors, really—though some of them get more of my attention than others.”
“The Masters only bother with the really powerful, really smart ones,” Zane put in ruefully. “You practically have to streak through the dining hall naked to get their attention otherwise.”
Master Reede grimaced and said, “Don’t try it, it’s been done. Ruined my appetite for days.” He smirked at the look on Hayden’s face. “I don’t know why you’re complaining, Laraby; you’re one of the youngest students I’ve ever favored with extra attention.”
Zane got a strange look on his face and said, “Since when? I hardly see you outside of classes.”
Master Reede looked around and said, “I’m here now, aren’t I?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Mrs. Laraby, a room is being set up for you on the second floor in the guest area. Allow me to show you to it, and we can share stories about your son along the way that will horrify him to think of for years to come.”
Zane looked like he’d just been told he’d have to live in the Forest of Illusions, but Mrs. Laraby brightened slightly and said, “Thank you, that sounds lovely.” To Hayden and Zane she added, “You two had better stay out of trouble and focus on your exams.”
And with that they walked off.
Zane turned to Hayden and said, “Well, that was awful.”
Hayden chuckled darkly. “What does she think we were planning to do in the next two days, start a riot and burn down the school? Of course we’ll be focused on our exams.”
“Yeah, well at least Reede showed up before she could make good on her threats to spank us. Believe me, it’s not an experience you want to have etched into your memory. I haven’t been spanked since I was about seven, and I still remember it vividly.”
Hayden shuddered just as the noise from the dining hall picked up, signaling the end of lunch.
At least the entire school didn’t get to watch us being chewed out by Zane’s mom.
“Well, on to our next exam I guess,” Zane sighed.
“Yeah, good luck. See you later,” Hayden replied, still feeling off-balance from the confrontation in the Pentagon. There was really nothing for him to do at this point but go to Charms and try to focus his mind back on schoolwork.
His Charms final went better than expected, and he finished the day in relatively high spirits. When Zane’s mother jo
ined them for dinner that night she was her normal cheerful self and didn’t attempt to strike either one of them again, for which they were both grateful.
The following day began with Hayden’s Prisms final. This was his easiest class by far, and when he entered the classroom with Bonk it was to find Master Asher standing impatiently by the door.
“Uh, good morning, sir. Don’t I have an exam today?” he asked in greeting.
The Prism Master rolled his eyes and said, “You’re a natural prism-user. What in the world am I going to test you on? You think I bothered writing an exam for only one student to take this year?” He waved a dismissive hand without pausing for Hayden to answer. “Let’s go outside and enjoy the last bit of nice weather we’re going to see before we leave Mizzenwald.”
Surprised but relieved at the prospect of skipping a two-hour test, Hayden followed Master Asher and Cinder out of the newly-repaired back exit. They ended up at the edges of the large black stone floor where Hayden used to have Conjury lessons, and Asher pulled up a down-stuffed cushion and flopped onto it. Hayden secured a cushion of his own, while the Master told Cinder and Bonk to go play.
The two dragonlings took flight and hovered above the center of the black flooring, eyeing each other for a moment before launching into a friendly game of attacking the snot out of each other. Hayden had no idea how the dragons found this restful and entertaining, but they seemed to get some joy out of biting, clawing, and spitting poison at each other, occasionally blowing small jets of fire to heal themselves.
“I’ve never understood why this counts as ‘fun’ for them,” Hayden said to the Prism Master to break the silence.
Asher smiled and answered without looking away from the dragons. “It’s good to keep their skills sharp—gives them practice in case they ever fight other magical creatures.”
Cinder had Bonk pinned to the ground with his jaws around the other dragon’s neck, shaking him vigorously until Bonk screeched in defeat. They both got back to their feet and spit fire at each other before taking flight for round two. Hayden was trying to get up the courage to ask his mentor when he was going to get a new familiar, since Horace was gone and Cinder would never really belong to anyone except the Dark Prism, who was now dead.
“So, where are you headed for the winter? Back to Zane’s house, or are you going to brave a visit to Tess?” Asher changed the subject before Hayden could ask his question.
Hayden grimaced at the thought of showing up at Tess’s house over the winter holiday. Her father may like him slightly more than Lorn Trout for the moment, but he didn’t think it was a good time to push his luck with the man.
“Probably Zane’s, though if Oliver’s mom manages to come through on getting my estate back for me then I might stop by there for a bit.”
Asher brightened.
“Ah, excellent. Perhaps I’ll visit you there and help you check some old hiding places of your father’s I know about—make sure they’re empty and not booby-trapped in any way.”
Hayden raised an eyebrow and said, “You know about my father’s old hiding places and you didn’t tell the Council of Mages?”
Asher rolled his eyes and said, “They didn’t ask. Besides, I offered to help them with their search of the house, but many of them still don’t trust that I wasn’t in league with him and they weren’t eager to let me back near the place.”
“They’re idiots,” Hayden said flatly.
“In general, I agree, though they get really touchy if you say that to their faces for some reason.” Asher smirked.
Hayden frowned and changed the subject.
“Are the Schisms I accidentally created by moving the Forest of Illusions all closing on their own?”
Asher turned away from the sight of Bonk biting Cinder’s tail and using it to whip the purple dragon around in circles like he was about to be launched into the air. Now he faced Hayden directly.
“It’s too soon to say. Some of them are closing, but others are opening. It seems the world is still in flux, trying to balance out such a large magical shock. Hopefully everything rights itself soon enough, before too many Schism-creatures find their way through to our side.”
Hayden sighed. “Guess I know what I’ll be doing next year—fighting Schism-wargs and such.”
“I hadn’t really planned on nominating you for that task if it should prove necessary,” Asher frowned at him.
Now it was Hayden’s turn to roll his eyes. “Come on, sir, what are the odds that scary, unnatural creatures would find their way into this world and I wouldn’t run into them at some point?” He paused momentarily. “Everything deadly seems to find its way to me eventually.”
Master Asher snorted and said, “Fair point; your track-record of avoiding danger is pretty terrible so far. Even Bonk can only eat so many of your enemies at a time before he gets indigestion.”
At that moment, Hayden’s familiar gave a cry of delight and streaked off after a squirrel on the lawns, completely sidetracked from his fight, only to be attacked from behind and flattened by Cinder.
“Some dragon,” Hayden grumbled to himself.
His last two finals were in Wands and Healing, and when he put down his pencil for the last time it was with a sense of relief at having survived another year at Mizzenwald. He was fairly sure he at least passed all of his classes, and there was nothing to do but spend time with his friends while they waited for their grades to come out.
Hayden spent his last morning at Mizzenwald sitting with Tess in the main courtyard, beneath the branches of a cherry-blossom tree. He liked watching petals fall down into Tess’s hair while she batted them away, opening the envelope containing her final scores and scanning the paper within briefly.
She exhaled in relief.
“I passed everything well enough to move on to the next level. I wasn’t sure about Herbalism, but I managed a Good.”
“Nice, I knew you’d do fine.” Hayden smiled, before turning to his own grades.
He tore the envelope and withdrew the paper from within, less worried this year than he had been in any previous one but still anxious.
Final Exam Results – Frost, Hayden
E- Excellent, G- Good, M-Mediocre, U- Unsatisfactory, D-Disgraceful
Next term qualifications in ( )
Elixirs: G (L-4)
Abnormal Magic: E (L-2 Comment: You’re as abnormal as they come! --Laurren)
Charms: G (L-3)
Prisms: E (L-M Comment: Great job on the final. --Asher)
Wands: E (L-5)
Healing: G (L-5)
Hayden stared at the paper for a long moment with his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Eventually he turned to Tess and said, “Does level ‘M’ mean mastery?”
She lifted her eyebrows and leaned over to look at his paper.
“I think so. I’m not sure what else it would mean, unless Master Asher is just messing around with you. But since you’re a Prism major it makes sense that he’s bumping you up…”
“But I haven’t done the fifth or sixth year classes yet—if he even teaches those.” Hayden said in awe.
“You’ve already used mastery-level prisms before without your brain exploding though, so maybe he thinks there’s no point in slowing things down for you if you’re ready for it.”
“Yeah, well…cool,” Hayden concluded lamely, smiling to himself when Tess leaned her head against his shoulder and stared out at the grounds.
“Maybe it’s because you did so well on your final,” she added, reading his comment.
Hayden snorted in amusement and said, “He was being sarcastic. There was no final.”
Tess giggled in surprise and tossed a cherry-blossom to Mittens, who batted at it enthusiastically for a few moments before losing interest and streaking off after a vole.
“We’ll have to catch our translocation circles soon or we’ll be stuck walking home through the snow,” she pointed out softly.
“Yeah, I know. Let’s just sit out here for
a few more minutes and enjoy the weather though.”
She didn’t protest, and so she and Hayden sat in companionable silence, staring out across the grounds and watching groups of students beginning to form in front of the area where the mastery students would draw their translocation circles to send them home.
He knew that there were still plenty of things to worry about: Schisms opening and closing all around the continent, whether or not the northern mages had been truly defeated, if the Magistra was still alive in the Forest of Illusions, plotting revenge on him at this very moment…
Despite all of that, he found himself relaxed and happy, enjoying the last bit of warm weather before next term, his good grades, and Tess’s head rested on his shoulder. Even the sound of Bonk choking violently on a cherry blossom, only to clear his airways and attempt to eat another one, couldn’t dampen his spirits.
Well, Mizzenwald, let’s see what new and exciting ways you’ll try to get me killed next year. Keep it coming, I’m ready.
