Hayden sat on a stool near the black soapstone countertop and ate his food while the cook cooed over Bonk.
“Where are all the other cooks and cleaners right now?” Hayden assumed it was safe to ask questions now that he had his food in hand.
The young woman answered him without looking away from Bonk, “Dinner ended an hour ago so they’ve all gone. It’s my night to work late in case anyone needs something before lights-out.”
She began to offer his familiar tiny bits of raw lamb meat while Hayden downed his sandwich, attempting to unstick the peanut butter from the roof of his mouth with his tongue.
“How come you’re so interested in Bonk? He’s not the first or only dragon here at Mizzenwald…” Hayden began again, turning to the soup. “You must’ve seen Slasher or Cinder by now.”
The cook pursed her lips at the mention of the others.
“Well of course I’ve seen them, from a distance, but dragons are such proud, stuck-up creatures that they usually only let their masters touch them. Slasher hisses and gets mean when anyone else comes near him and Cinder shoots fire at people he doesn’t like. Yours is the only dragon who lets other people handle him.”
Hayden was absolutely stunned by that bit of news, since Bonk loved to be fawned over by anyone who was interested. Now that he thought about it more closely, he couldn’t remember ever seeing Oliver’s dragon allow anyone else near him, and Cinder didn’t seem to like being touched in general, because he rarely saw the dark-purple dragonling interact with anyone, preferring the company of other magical creatures or solitude.
“Oh, then I guess Bonk is just very sociable for a dragon…” Hayden conceded. “Torin told me from the beginning that he was pretty odd for his kind, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Bonk licked her face and the cook broke out in peals of girlish laughter and insisted on fixing Hayden some dessert as well.
He was halfway through his ice cream sundae when he felt the reassuring weight of a dragon perching on his shoulder. Hayden, who was busy trying to cram half a brownie into his mouth in one bite, reached up with his free hand and patted his familiar out of habit. The cook was still hugging Bonk like he was a stuffed animal, though the latter didn’t seem to mind.
Wait a minute…
It took Hayden a few seconds to realize that something was off.
If Bonk is over there…what just landed on my shoulder?
He twisted his neck and startled at the sight of Cinder there, looking haughty and regal on Hayden’s shoulder while he surveyed his counterpart with mild distaste.
“Cinder? What are you doing here?” Hayden had no idea why he was asking the dragon for an answer he didn’t expect to receive. Cinder surveyed him imperiously but was otherwise unresponsive, and Bonk escaped the cook’s arms and took flight to perch on Hayden’s other shoulder as soon as he realized he had competition.
Feeling extremely crowded by tiny magical dragons, Hayden turned towards the door just as Master Asher walked into the kitchen.
“Oh good, Cinder found you,” the Prism Master greeted him. “Shoulders feeling a bit heavy?”
Hayden smiled helplessly and Asher snapped his fingers to summon Cinder back to him. Hayden felt a moment of pressure as the dragon took flight and soared over to his master.
“I don’t know why he perched on me, but I think it made Bonk jealous because he came back as soon as he saw.”
Master Asher smirked in amusement. “Cinder must be fond of you, a rarity as he’s fairly choosy about people.” He glanced at the cook and his expression brightened. “Ah, Marisa, lovely to see you.”
The cook colored slightly and pursed her lips at the Prism Master before promptly ignoring him and turning to Hayden. “If you’re done eating then you’d best be on your way.”
Hayden hadn’t quite finished his brownie sundae but decided it was best not to overstay his welcome, so he followed Master Asher out of the kitchen and back into the dining hall.
“What in the world did you do to make all the cooks hate you?” Hayden asked once they were out of earshot of the kitchen.
Master Asher chuckled. “Marisa doesn’t hate me, she’s just annoyed with me at the moment.” He abruptly changed the subject before Hayden could comment. “I didn’t see you at dinner and wanted to make sure you weren’t lying in an unconscious heap somewhere in need of help. It can be easy to overexert yourself and you looked dead on your feet the last time I saw you.”
“Oh, I’m alright. I was just really tired after tryouts and didn’t wake up until a few minutes ago.”
“I assume you had a chance to check out the posted scores in the Pentagon?”
Hayden nodded. “Why did you give me an eleven on the endurance? I know I lasted longer than anyone else, but elevens are supposed to be impossible to achieve.”
The Prism Master gave him a measured look.
“I am beginning to see that there are many impossible things about you, Hayden,” he explained slowly. “I don’t know anyone else who would be capable of casting at full strength for fifteen minutes straight at your age, much less with such heavy correction on your Foci.”
“But you’re much more powerful than me…” Hayden insisted.
“That’s because I’m thirty-one years old and you’re thirteen. Sure, I can cast at full power for close to an hour before I’m over-fatigued, but I’ve been practicing for many years and didn’t have any Focus-correction for most of it. That being said, I’ve also got a fairly impressive Source even compared to other mages my age.”
“So what are you saying?” Hayden frowned, “That I’m a freak?”
“You are not a freak, Hayden,” Master Asher chided him, stopping him in the pentagonal foyer and pulling him to the side. “But I am beginning to think it’s no coincidence that you survived Aleric’s attack against you. I believe you have more raw power than anyone else in the Nine Lands, maybe even more power than your father had at the height of his reign of terror.”
Hayden’s heart began racing at the very idea. The Prism Master’s blue eyes were unusually intense and serious, and Hayden couldn’t break eye contact with him for a long moment.
“But if I’m so powerful even with Focus-correctors, why didn’t anyone notice me until after my father came and blew up my mom’s house?”
Master Asher blinked and released him from his gaze, now looking pensive.
“A question I have asked myself numerous times but have not yet found an answer for,” he sighed in defeat. “If your Source was always as big as I suspect it now is, you should have been displaying signs of magic since infancy. It would leak out of you, uncontrolled; even your mother would not have been able to hide you from the attention of mages. To have been dormant for ten years is…very strange.”
Hayden mulled that over in silence.
“The only thing that comes to mind,” Master Asher continued, seemingly against his will, “is that for some reason Aleric may have stumbled upon a spell for increasing one’s Source power. Do you remember what you told me last year when you had that confused tangle of memories about the day he attacked you at home?”
Hayden would never forget the horrible sensations he felt during one of the arena challenges the year before, vague feelings and memories about his father trying to kill him and eventually blowing up the house with Hayden’s mother inside of it. The shadow of those memories had driven him completely nuts and he had to be pulled out of the arena by Kilgore and Asher that night; people spread rumors about him for weeks because of it.
“Yes…?” he answered hesitantly.
“You said that your father had his palms pressed against yours, that he was channeling so much power through your Foci that it warped and nearly destroyed them…that it gave you a hideous case of light-sickness in the aftermath.”
Hayden nodded, swallowing a surge of nausea at the very memory of it.
Master Asher looked both frustrated and confused when he said, “Perhaps he was trying to e
mpower your Source.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he recanted them. “But it makes no sense at all why he would want to make you stronger, unless he thought you would be an ally to him in his campaign. No, even then, I’m certain he would not want to make anyone more powerful than him, even his own son. If he possessed such a spell he would have used it on himself and no one else.”
The Prism Master actually punched the marble wall in frustration. “The problem is that so much of his work was with imperfect prisms that I can’t figure out what he knew and what he didn’t,” he continued wearily. “I spent the better part of the last year trying to discover spells that he doubtless stumbled upon ages ago, ever since you told me that he was forcing magic through your Foci that day, because for the life of me I can’t figure out what would compel him to act like that.”
Hayden was stunned to hear that Master Asher had been trying to figure out what happened to him for a year without telling him, whether because he wanted to give Hayden closure or because he was just interested as a fellow prism-user.
“Well, um, let me know if you find anything…” Hayden was dying to offer his assistance, but knew better than to ever bring up doing research with Master Asher again, who for some reason was horrified and repulsed by the very idea.
The Prism Master regained control of himself and glanced around the foyer as though just realizing who he was talking to and where they were. For a moment it had almost felt like he was airing his frustrations to a trusted friend instead of a third-year student.
“I will,” he assured Hayden, running a hand through his unkempt brown curls. “You’d better get upstairs and get some more rest. You’ve got the second phase of the tryouts tomorrow morning.”
Hayden walked back up the stairs with Bonk, his mind still turning over everything that Asher gave him to consider. He normally avoided thinking about his father as much as possible, but had never before considered that maybe the Dark Prism was trying to recruit him to his cause on that day he showed up at his house. Master Asher had declared it impossible, but the thought continued to haunt Hayden as he sat down to begin his Charms homework.
Even though Aleric Frost was deranged, psychotic, and plainly evil, Hayden had spent his entire childhood yearning for a father. The idea that even at his worst, the Dark Prism might have wanted Hayden on his side—that he might have valued his son even in madness—made Hayden’s heart hurt. Everyone else would tell him it didn’t matter either way, but to Hayden it made all the difference in the world.
***
The prism-users were the first to begin the second day of tryouts, and if possible, the crowd of other students who showed up to watch was even larger than the day before. The only good thing was that Hayden was going into today with a substantial lead in the rankings, so even if he was mediocre in the strength and efficiency tests, his overall score should still be decent.
The five Masters were sitting on the same stone benches as yesterday, and as soon as Hayden and his four classmates arrived in the courtyard, Master Asher hopped lithely to his feet to join them.
A hush fell over the crowd in ripples as Asher began speaking.
“Good morning, prism-users,” he spoke to them as though the six of them were alone in the courtyard. “The first trial of today will be related to strength of will, to see which of you can muster up the most focused willpower on command.” He passed each of them a level-three rose-tinted prism.
“This test is fairly straightforward,” Asher continued. “I will put you in pairs and you will both stand in front of these black lines.” He took out an ordinary piece of black drawing chalk and put two straight lines on the pavement as he spoke. “When I say ‘go’, you will each cast Push at your opponent. The first person who is pushed backwards across their black line loses. We will go until there is one victor.”
Master Asher made eye contact with each of them to ensure they understood before pairing them off.
“Good, now I know there are an uneven number of you, so you’ll just have to take it in turns.” He moved among them, pulling them together in twos until only Hayden was left without a partner. “You’ll take whoever wins between Andric and Cindy. If you lose, you’ll compete against the other in order to rank you. If you win, you’ll advance to the next round.”
With that he stepped back to give the others space. Andric and Cindy lined themselves up in front of the black chalk lines Master Asher had drawn on the ground, and Oliver and Kevin did the same, equipping their rose prisms.
“Alright, everyone ready?” Asher gave them one last glance. “And…go!”
Oliver immediately overpowered Kevin with his willpower and the latter stumbled backwards over his black line and swore. Cindy and Andric were more evenly-matched, both of them edging each other backwards until, at last, Andric’s heel crossed over the line.
“Hayden and Cindy, you’re up. Andric and Kevin, you as well; I want to know how each of your wills rank comparatively.” Master Asher motioned them back into groups, and now Oliver stepped aside to watch as Hayden took his place, feeling nervous.
His nerves made him a little overzealous, because as soon as Asher said, “Go”, he thought, Push! with all his might, knocking Cindy flat on her back as she skidded across the black line.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he hurried forward to help her up, but she smacked his hand away and got to her feet with flushed cheeks.
The laughter from the crowd made him feel like an idiot, and he turned to face Oliver now, forcibly reminded of the last time he had matched wills against the older boy. Judging by the look on his opponent’s face, Oliver clearly hadn’t forgotten being made to run through the halls in his underwear either.
The crowd quieted once more.
“Ready…set…go!” Master Asher had barely finished the last word when Hayden felt Oliver’s spell slam into him like a brick wall. He kept his feet firmly on the ground even as he was pushed backwards, which resulted in him bending his back so far that he nearly toppled over.
Push! he thought back at Oliver, repelling the spell from himself so that he was able to stand upright again. Oliver frowned in concentration as his feet slid backwards an inch.
It took Hayden a moment to realize that he wasn’t really exerting much energy at all against Oliver, simply matching his opponent. Oliver was beginning to sweat, muscles tensed from strain, but Hayden could have stood here like this all day. The last thing he wanted was another spectacle like what had happened with Cindy, and just as he was deciding to slowly ramp up his power to nudge Oliver over the line, Master Asher said, “Finish it Hayden; stop toying with him.”
Frowning at being caught metering his strength, Hayden channeled his focus and sent Oliver toppling backwards over the line. Master Asher looked distinctly annoyed with him.
“I told you not to hedge your power while I’m testing you. The next time you do that I’ll put you in a detention so unpleasant that you’ll have nightmares about it for weeks.”
Hayden grimaced, because he absolutely believed Master Asher’s sincerity.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, and the Prism Master gave him a curt nod and immediately brightened to address the crowd.
“The final test for my Prisms will be efficiency, to determine how well they use the resources they are given.”
He walked over to Master Kilgore, who Hayden just noticed was holding a small pile of nearly-spent prisms, which he now passed to Asher.
“You will each be given a clear, amber, blue, and rose prism with only enough charge left for one good spell each. You will then be given four small tasks to complete with only the materials provided, so use them wisely or you may not be able to finish the test at all, and I will dock your score accordingly.”
The prism fragments were small enough that Hayden could hold all four of them in the palm of one hand. The larger the prism, the more slowly it was consumed. Master Asher had once explained that this was because prisms close to their ideal size we
re inherently more efficient, and the smaller they became, the more unstable. The prisms he currently held would be hard-pressed to complete even basic spells.
“May I reiterate that speed is irrelevant in this particular challenge, though there may be some incentive provided to move quickly during these mini-tasks,” Master Asher continued. “And with that, let’s begin.”
He nodded to Master Willow, who stood up, withdrew a short elder wand from his belt, and gave it a purposeful wave in their general direction. Hayden had no idea what was going to happen until he saw a wave of magic so powerful that it was visible to the naked eye sweeping slowly towards them, rising up to engulf them like a heat wave. He had no idea what the spell would do to him, but knew instinctively that he didn’t want to be hit by it under any circumstance. Panicking, he held up the rose-tinted prism in front of his eye and thought, Repel!
The prism was entirely consumed by the spell and vanished from his hand, though it worked as desired and pushed part of the magical ripple askew so that it narrowly missed him. His classmates all used some spell that he didn’t know, because they had used their blue prisms and the magic simply passed over them without issue. Now they were smirking at him like he was an idiot.
Great, I used the wrong prism right at the outset. I’m doomed when I get to the part that requires the rose prism.
There wasn’t much time for him to stew over it, because Master Asher was already motioning to Master Reede to begin the next test. The Master of Conjury took hold of his Mastery Charm and used it to conjure five identical harpies. The harpies each had the body of a vulture and the face of a woman, their wings flapping idly as they hovered in front of the challengers.
Hayden belatedly remembered that the most important thing to know about harpies was that they were insatiably hungry, which was probably why the one nearest him was flying towards him with that beady look in her eye…
Without pausing to check what the others were doing, Hayden held up his blue-tinted prism and cast Banish, intending to send the harpy back to whatever miserable place it came from.
The Other Prism (The Broken Prism) Page 6
