Hayden’s blood boiled at the way Oliver carelessly mentioned his dead mother, and before he knew what he was doing he was on his feet. Oliver looked like he was dying for Hayden to give him a chance to annihilate him, and Hayden was too angry to care that he was probably about to get his butt kicked.
“Don’t you ever talk about my mother again, you son of a—”
Hayden drew back his fist and swung as hard as he could at Oliver’s face, but someone stuck their hand in the way and the blow made a meaty smack as it landed on the meddler’s palm. He looked up into the eyes of the Master Mandra, who had returned to the platform and was preparing to begin the Wand trial.
Hayden felt his face blanch in horror; he’d punched a Master at a school he was guesting at.
“Well now, we don’t typically see members of the same team throwing punches at each other during the Championship,” the Master glanced between Hayden and Oliver in amusement, shaking out the hand that had caught the former’s hit.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Hayden sat back down immediately. “We just don’t like each other very much.”
“Understatement of the year.” Oliver rolled his eyes. “The next time you throw a punch at me I’ll rearrange your face.”
“Feel free to fight to your hearts’ content, but don’t do it at Valhalla. Your own Masters can sort you two out when you return to Mizzenwald,” Master Mandra said with finality, turning away from them to face the crowd and begin the Wand trial.
Hayden was careful to keep his eyes focused on the competition in front of him, but he was still seething with anger at Oliver and didn’t take in most of what was happening in the arena until the first person was out. The challengers were supposed to hit each other with a simple freezing spell, which sounded easy enough except that the arena was constantly changing the environment around them.
The ground looked solid, but it was constantly in flux. Rocks, trees, or shards of crystal would shoot out of it at random, which the competitors took advantage of for hiding places, but the formations could disappear as suddenly as they came. Occasionally something would shoot out of the ground right where a person was standing and would push them up into the air unless they jumped off in time. The boy from Isenfall was unlucky enough to have a rock formation materialize beneath him, and a jutting piece of stone snapped his ankle as it sprang upwards from the ground.
The crowd groaned in sympathy and the competitor from Creston hurried forward and hit him with the freezing spell, taking him out of the competition for good. The ground began to change progressively faster and produced more dangerous things as time progressed, including jagged shards of glass and obsidian, one of which came so close to Reya that it ripped her robes as it shot out of the ground.
In the end a girl from Branx won the wand round, with Reya in second place. The crowd applauded and began discussing the results, while the others who were watching the Conjury trials began to filter into the arena. Hayden was suddenly aware of the fact that it was his turn to compete in front of the entire school, and he wasn’t looking forward to it one bit.
He quickly located the Prism Master of Valhalla and made his way down the steps of the arena to join the others, heart pounding with every step he took. The floor flipped over once more, and had now become a uniform, non-threatening layer of dried dirt. Hayden joined the other prism-users around the Master, who was giving them final instructions.
“Your goal in this task is to avoid being hit with the orbs of colored pigment for as long as possible,” he explained once Hayden arrived. “They’ll come from the walls in increasing numbers as time progresses, so the faster you can knock your opponents into them the better. You may use any spells that you know within your four prisms to accomplish this. Understood?”
He waited until they all nodded before turning to walk up the stairs and join the other Masters on the floating platforms, both of which were now hovering around the arena.
Hayden stumbled a little on the hem of his robes as he stepped out into the arena, his ears burning as the laughter from the crowd reached him. Frustrated, he bent down and tore the bottom three inches off of his robes with a loud rip, leaving the edges frayed and uneven as he continued towards the middle of the combat space.
At least now I won’t trip over my own feet.
It was strange how, as an observer, there hadn’t seemed to be a lot of people watching. Now, on this end of the spectrum, Hayden felt like it was the largest crowd he had ever seen amassed in one place, and was beginning to wonder whether students from the other schools had snuck into the stands to augment the crowd.
The Prism Master was standing on the floating platform nearest them, explaining the process to the observers while Hayden and the other competitors spaced themselves out as much as possible.
“Prisms…begin!”
Hayden equipped his clear prism just as the first three fist-sized balls of pigment burst out of the low wall that circled the arena, looking like giant balls of candy. The pigment was obviously magicked to remain in the air, because the balls zoomed around the arena without any visible means of propulsion, and Hayden had to dodge out of the way when Davis from Isenfall cast Pull and sent one of the orbs flying at him.
It took everyone a minute or two to get their bearings, and by then more balls of pigment had launched and were chasing them around. Hayden cast Slow on one just before it could smack him in the face and ducked beneath it, switching to his rose-tinted prism and casting Push to send it at one of his opponents, who dodged in the nick of time.
It was impossible to keep track of what everyone else was doing, especially as more and more balls of pigment entered the arena. By the time there were twenty orbs in play it was all Hayden could do to avoid them, like one giant magical game of dodge-ball. Something cast a shadow over him and he looked up in time to see a ball of green pigment the size of a boulder hurtling down at him from above. Panicking, he cast Break and it exploded before it could hit him, and he looked around and saw the boy from Isenfall grinning at him in a maniacal, terrifying way as he advanced.
“What’s the matter, Frost?” his opponent called out as he cast Grow on another ball of pigment—pink this time—and sent it flying towards him. “Daddy didn’t teach you any magic?”
Furious, Hayden cast Repel and sent the ball hurtling back at Davis, sucking in his stomach to avoid a purple one that zoomed past him, launched by another of the competitors. It was getting hard to take more than two steps without running into anything by now, and he dodged two more orbs by the time Davis recovered and came after him again.
It seemed that the older boy was determined to take him out of the running as soon as possible, because he had the perfect opportunity to eliminate the boy from Creston and passed it up in favor of pursuing Hayden. Of all the people to hunt him, the only other natural prism in the competition—who happened to have years more experience than him—would not be his first choice.
Davis jumped over four projectiles at once and cast Suspend on himself to catch up to Hayden, who was now trying to run and dodge as fast as possible to put some distance between them. It was nearly impossible to watch where he was going and keep track of all the objects zooming around the arena and the other contestants, who were all still in the running as well.
I’m the worst at this. The others are all holding their own, and I’m just running away…why did anyone think I could do this?
He held up his blue prism and cast Sleep as Davis touched down to the ground, but the older boy repelled it with lightning speed and Hayden was forced to duck to avoid being hit by his own spell. Davis seemed to be casting a spell Hayden didn’t know yet, because the orbs nearest him were drawn to him like magnets, until there were a dozen of them circling Davis like planets orbiting the sun. Hayden had no idea what he was doing until the older boy gave him a crazy grin, compounded his rose and clear prisms, and cast Push at him.
Hayden didn’t have time to equip his rose prism and instead just held it in front of his right e
ye and thought, Push! as hard as he could. It felt like a wall of bricks had slammed into him as the force of Davis’s magic met his, and the twenty orbs of pigment came to a halt halfway between them. He had never been on the receiving end of a compounded spell before, and it knocked the air from his lungs as he fought it with every ounce of will he possessed. The rose-tinted prism was actually shaking in his hand from the strain of his casting, but he was determined not to back off for even a second or he would get hammered with all those different pigments and lose.
Davis frowned and gripped the charm around his neck, and the wall of magic pushing against Hayden’s Foci was amplified painfully. Hayden didn’t know much about charms yet, but since Davis’s emblem was an axe he had a pretty good idea that it was an offensive amplifying charm of some kind.
Hayden was barely holding out now, and the balls of pigment were inching slowly closer to him, forcing him to take a step backwards so that his back was pressed against the wall of the arena. Davis looked both stunned and furious that his compounded spell and amplified power wasn’t annihilating him, but Hayden knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. His rose prism was being rapidly consumed as he forced more and more power through it, and Davis was still compounding against him through his own quickly-diminishing prisms.
The rose-tinted prism reached its smallest, least-stable form and then turned to gritty dust. Hayden closed his eyes and covered his head as twenty solid orbs of pigment slammed into his body at high speed, exploding upon impact and knocking the breath from his lungs as they covered him in multi-colored splatters of dust, bruising his skin upon impact.
I lost.
The realization almost hit him harder than all the balls of pigment combined. He would have to return to Mizzenwald tonight and explain to Master Asher how he’d failed at the outset for the first time in thirty years, would have to endure the ridicule of his peers, Oliver pummeling him, and the disappointed look on Zane and Tess’s faces…
He walked moodily along the edge of the arena, departing through the first exit he saw and ignoring everyone he passed as he stalked across the grass and left the sounds of cheering and roaring behind. He was so thoroughly covered in pigment that he couldn’t tell what color his robes were anymore, and kept walking until he was all the way back at the lake.
There didn’t seem to be any point in trying to clean himself up, so he simply sat down at the edge of the water and looked at his own brooding reflection. His face was covered in violet dust on one side and his hair was a mixture of pink and yellow. It seemed impossible that he would meet a boy he hated as much as Oliver Trout during the course of the I.S.C., but then again he had terrible luck, so maybe it wasn’t that surprising after all.
Hayden had no idea how long he sat there thinking morose thoughts, interrupted only when Master Mandra approached him from behind. Hayden saw his face and bright yellow robes reflected in the water behind him and turned around.
“The trials at Valhalla are over,” the Master greeted him neutrally. “The losers from each team have had their Resonance bracelets snapped off, and you’ll all be returning to school soon.”
Hayden nodded mutely and looked down at the thin band of red crystal on his left arm for the last time, since clearly Mandra had come here to remove it from his wrist.
“Davis from Isenfall won the prism round, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” Hayden answered dully, getting to his feet and holding out his wrist. “There, go ahead. Take it.”
Master Mandra gave him a strange look and said, “What are you talking about?”
“The Resonance thing on my wrist. I lost, so you’re here to remove it.”
Mandra raised an eyebrow in surprise and said, “Hayden, you didn’t lose.”
“What do you mean?” Hayden demanded loudly, surprised by how sharp his voice sounded.
“Ceres from Branx saw you and Davis deadlocked and got distracted watching you. She got taken out about five seconds before you did.”
“You—you mean I’m still in?” Hayden’s insides were rapidly inflating with elation; his hands and feet actually tingled with the sensation.
“Of course, though you’re at the bottom of the rankings at present. Don’t tell me you spent all this time thinking you were out of the competition?”
Hayden laughed weakly and covered his face with his hands.
It’s not over…I’m not going back in disgrace….
Of course, he was only in by the skin of his teeth, but there was time to recover. At least he would be able to say in years to come that he made it through the first round of trials.
“Davis seems to have taken a disliking to you,” Mandra observed casually as he led the way back to the winding stone path that Team Mizzenwald had walked down only this morning. It felt like a lifetime ago.
“I noticed,” Hayden mumbled. “I don’t know why, other than he probably hates me for being related to the Dark Prism, just like everyone else who hates me for no reason.”
Master Mandra gave him a strange look and said, “I think it’s more likely that he’s trying to remove his biggest competition as soon as possible to avoid facing you in the finals.” He smirked at the look on Hayden’s face. “You’re the only two natural prisms in the competition; if he can beat you, who is left to challenge him?”
Hayden hadn’t quite thought of it like that before, and he frowned as he considered the possibilities.
“Well, he nearly had me. I’m sure by round two he’s going to have a solid plan for taking me out; he’s much stronger than me.”
Master Mandra snorted. “I doubt that. You were able to hold him off for a surprisingly long time, given that he was compounding and amplifying his power and you were doing neither. No,” the Master of Wands continued, “I believe he’s going to be very careful before he challenges you directly again. If you were compounding, he would have lost.”
They arrived at the clearing where Hayden’s teammates were waiting for him. Collectively they looked a lot worse for wear than they did upon entering: Oliver still covered in paste and scriptures, Reya with her robes torn, Griff with bandages around both hands, and Hayden covered head-to-toe in a riot of colored pigments. Only Darren, their conjurer, was unharmed.
“This is where I leave you,” Master Mandra stopped walking and motioned for Hayden to join his teammates on the circle of black stone that would transport them back to Mizzenwald. “I’m glad we met. This has been a most…illuminating experience.”
Hayden wasn’t sure what the Master meant by that, but before he could ask any questions the circle was activated and Team Mizzenwald was transported home.
9
All is Lost
The first thing Master Asher said upon seeing them was, “What the devil did they do to you people at Valhalla?”
Hayden and his teammates took turns sharing an account of the day, though Griff left the room as soon as he was done detailing his defeat for the Masters and didn’t return. Kilgore frowned thoughtfully but made no move to go after him.
When it was his turn, Hayden explained why he looked like the victim of a dye-mill explosion and Master Asher attempted (unsuccessfully) to dust him off with a conjured shoe-brush.
“Elias probably needs to put some solvent on that or your skin will be dyed for weeks,” he put in cheerfully, and Master Kilgore nodded and told Hayden to see him after he showered and changed clothing.
Hayden left the room when dismissed and wasn’t entirely surprised when the Prism Master followed him, because they hadn’t had a chance to talk privately yet since his return.
“Seems like this Davis kid has it out for you,” Asher said without breaking stride, holding up one hand over his head just as Horace the hawk alit upon it, transferring his familiar to his shoulder with practiced ease.
“Yes, he does,” Hayden agreed darkly. “He’s like Oliver, but crazier.”
Master Asher snorted in amusement as something small and winged slammed
into Hayden and nearly knocked him to the ground. It was Bonk, who was furious at being left alone all day and repeatedly head-butted Hayden angrily to convey the sentiment, which resulted in the little dragon’s head being stained the same violet has Hayden’s face.
“Next time you skip town be sure and warn Bonk in advance; he almost burned down Torin’s cabin when we wouldn’t take him to you,” Asher pointed out conversationally. “But back to the competition. You did a bit worse than I expected—to be perfectly frank—placing second-to-last.” He didn’t attempt to sugar-coat his thoughts at all for Hayden’s benefit. “It sounds like you’re only still in the running at all by virtue of luck.”
Hayden hadn’t gone into an extensive detailing of the Prism challenge, merely saying that he was the second one out and that Davis from Isenfall had been stalking him relentlessly the entire time.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, ashamed of his poor performance. Asher didn’t respond, but was giving Hayden a contemplative stare as though unable to figure him out. They passed a tide of students leaving the dining hall on their way to the Pentagon, most of them gawking at Hayden’s multi-colored visage.
“There was a spell Davis used that I don’t know,” Hayden changed the subject abruptly, because Master Asher stopped at the base of the stairwell; clearly he had no intention of climbing the stairs.
“Oh? Which prism was he using?”
“His blue-tinted, I think. He did something that made a whole bunch of those orbs come to him and circle around him, then he switched to his rose-tinted and used Push to send them at me.”
Master Asher frowned thoughtfully and motioned for Hayden to lend him a blue prism, twisting it slowly in front of his left eye as he squinted through it.
“Ah, yes, he must have been using Draw, with an inversion to attract likes. I rarely use that spell, so it never occurred to me to teach it to you.”
Hayden was attempting to wipe the purple dust off of Bonk’s forehead while he listened, but only succeeded in smearing it even worse. Zane passed him on his way up the stairs and goggled openly, but Hayden simply waved to say that he’d be right up and continued talking to Master Asher.
The Other Prism (The Broken Prism) Page 13
