by Laurie McKay
Ms. Primrose sighed. “I suppose the tree would have liked you.”
Caden stood straighter, and Ms. Primrose would like him again, too. She couldn’t be manipulated with anger or greed or jealousy. Truly, she had to be charmed. “Most do like me,” Caden said. “Even trees.” But it wasn’t the tree’s portrait Ms. Primrose had hung over her fireplace. It was the Red and Gold Elderdragon. Caden felt confident now there were only two Elderdragons: Ms. Primrose, the Blue and Silver. And the mighty Red and Gold in the portrait on the wall. “The Red and Gold Elderdragon would have liked me, too.”
“Well,” Ms. Primrose said, her eyes clear and blue. “He did enjoy eating princes.”
“I meant he would have enjoyed speaking to me.”
She relaxed back into her comfy chair. While she looked interested, she honestly didn’t looked charmed. Caden wasn’t sure what else to say until Ms. Primrose said, “He didn’t deign to speak lowly human tongues.”
Oh. She wanted him to speak the forgotten tongue, to charm her in a language of power. Well, he would just do it then. Caden concentrated. He tried to draw the forgotten language into his mind. His head began to throb. He tried to say something, anything, but no words tickled his tongue. Caden brought his hand to his forehead.
Ms. Primrose stared at him with a stern expression. “You can’t do it unless prompted, can you, dear?”
Caden swallowed. “Not yet,” he said.
In some ways, he needed prompting to speak any language. The main difference was that with normal, non-forgotten tongues, he could summon them to his mind after hearing them only once. He’d heard the forgotten languages on several occasions. Those mystical languages, he’d never produced on demand. Although, he hadn’t tried to speak them much. They were painful, powerful things—words that literally hurt.
“You should practice more,” she said. “If you want to please me.”
“I will,” Caden said. If Caden couldn’t ask for her help in the forgotten tongue, he’d do so in the local English. “Help us now, and one day I’ll speak the forgotten language first.”
Ms. Primrose narrowed her eyes. “It’s not that easy.”
Caden held her gaze. “You gave me a quest last spring; I completed it,” he said. “You had no lair”—he motioned to the room—“I found you a new one. Have I not earned the privilege of being taken at my word?”
“I wasn’t pleased with the outcome of your quest.” With a loud sigh, Ms. Primrose laid her head back. “But you have proved yourself reliable. And you amused me with your talk of trees. One question.” She lifted her head and waggled a finger at him. “No more.”
What should he ask? The emblem in his pocket was cool to the touch, but it blazed in Caden’s mind. It had fallen from the sky. It was from the Greater Realm. What was happening there? If only Caden could talk to his father. The king would know what to do.
Ms. Primrose tapped her wrist. “Ticktock, young prince,” she said. “I haven’t got all night. I’ve beads to sort.”
It was simple, really—they needed to know how to stop the spells in Asheville and Razzon. Caden focused back on Ms. Primrose. “How do we stop the next part of the spells? Both here and in the Greater Realm. Certainly you know.”
“I suppose that counts as one question.” She peered at him, her eyes intense and inhuman. “To stop the spell here, you must prevent the sacrifice. For at midnight tomorrow, blood will be spilled in Biltmore Forest. To stop the spell there, you must warn those there; you must use life force to make the connection.”
They couldn’t sacrifice life to dark magic. Caden started to object.
Ms. Primrose held up her palm to quiet him. “You can’t contact anyone in any other realm without sacrificing life force, dear. That’s just how it works.”
“Huh,” Tito said.
Ms. Primrose pointed a long fingernail at bird-Jasan. Caden reached up to keep Jasan from snapping at her. “If he learns to behave, I’ll leave him human. Tell him not to test me again. Tell Mr. Manglor the same.”
Ms. Primrose stretched and stood. Her shadow began to lengthen. Her fingernails turned sharper and longer. She looked from Caden to Jasan on his shoulder to Officer Levine in the corner, then to Tito and Jane by the silver bead table. “It’s time you leave my lair.” She pointed to the perch. “Leave my roommate, and I’ll transform him back. In time.” Caden felt reluctant, and it must have shown on his face, because she added, “Are you doubting me?”
Caden couldn’t lie. “I apologize,” he said, and placed Jasan on the perch. One thing about Ms. Primrose, she would do as she said.
There was nothing more to say, no more questions to ask. Caden hated leaving Jasan, but he didn’t know if she’d change him back if Caden took him. He bowed, tugged Officer Levine by the sleeve, and they, Jane, and Tito hurried out the doorway.
They got into the patrol car. Caden was quiet. Despite popular opinion, he didn’t talk constantly. Two parts of the spell remained. Blood would be spilled, she’d said. The third vial used would be Jasan’s blood, then, blood of son, and it would occur at midnight tomorrow in Biltmore Forest. The day after that, Caden would be cursed.
When Caden and the others returned, Rosa and Brynne were back from the hospital. Officer Levine took Rosa aside, and they spoke quietly. Caden joined Brynne, Jane, and Tito in the living room.
He kept his hand in his coat pocket and rubbed his thumb across the emblem’s wing. Five sapphires. Landon’s birth number. What had happened? Could Landon have been the sacrifice there like Mr. Bellows had been here? No, that couldn’t be true. His brothers would look after one another.
Yet Maden was with them. He’d killed Chadwin. Could he have killed Landon as well?
Brynne sat on the living-room coffee table. Her head was bare and her expression a cross between fury and shock. A black-and-silver knit cap was beside her. “The doctor didn’t believe all my hair flew away,” she said. “He said I have nonworking follicles.” Then she glanced up at Caden. “I think now Rosa better understands how you feel when she doesn’t believe you.”
Tito plopped down on the green punishment couch. He motioned to her head. “It doesn’t look so bad.”
Brynne shot him a withering look.
Jane sat on the table on the other side of the cap. “Are you okay?”
Brynne crossed her arms. “I’m fine. Perfectly healthy. Just bald.”
Caden didn’t want to sit on the punishment couch unless being punished—that was often enough. The table wasn’t a proper seat either. He stood beside the table and considered Brynne. A prince should say something to make his ally feel better. “You have a mostly round head.”
Brynne turned some of her fury on him.
But better she was angry than upset. Truly, though, Brynne was pretty with or without hair. Caden simply needed to emphasize the splendor of baldness. “Your head looks like a ripe moon melon.”
“I don’t know if you’re helping there, bro,” Tito said.
“Obviously, you’ve never seen a ripe moon melon,” Caden said.
“Obviously,” Tito said.
Brynne reached down, picked up the knit cap, and pulled it on her head. “Because I’m cold,” she said. “Not because I lost my hair and feel bad about it.”
“I see,” Caden said.
“Good.” She stared at him for a moment, then scrunched up her nose. “You look weird.”
It was Caden’s turn to raise a brow.
“I mean, you look worried,” Brynne said.
“I am worried,” Caden said. He ticked off items with his fingers. “About your hair, about Jane’s eyes. About Jasan. About Ms. Primrose. About Asheville.” He swallowed and brought the emblem out from his pocket. “About this.” Caden showed it to her. “Five sapphires,” he said quietly. “It belongs to my fifth-born brother, Landon.”
“What does it mean?” Jane asked.
“It might not mean anything,” Brynne said, but she wasn’t convincing.
“It migh
t mean something terrible,” Caden said, and looked away. Something terrible was actually much more likely. He took a breath to calm himself and turned back. “The only way to stop the spell there is to warn my family. Then they will know what is happening. They will fight.” Caden felt helpless. “But Ms. Primrose said there was no way to contact home without sacrificing life.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Outside, the wind blew, and Caden heard the screen door knocking against the frame. Tito seemed thoughtful.
“Why not just sacrifice some plants and do the ritual spell thing,” Tito said. Caden was taken aback. Brynne looked shocked. Jane shook her head no. Tito seemed confused. “What?”
“Ritual magic is dark magic, Sir Tito,” Brynne said. “We can’t sacrifice plants.”
Tito pointed at his mouth. “We eat plants, but we can’t sacrifice a few? Not even some grass?” He pointed at Caden. “Or spinach? How about mushrooms? Mushrooms seem all right. No one cares about fungi.”
Brynne pulled her hat lower on her ripe moon melon head. Despite what she said, she seemed self-conscious about her lost hair. “Ritual magic corrupts the soul,” she said.
“Although,” Caden said, “one could say the same about sorcery.”
Her sad expression froze. “One could,” she said, and narrowed her eyes, “but he’d be wrong. And he might find himself stuck with a fluffy tail and fox ears for a few days.”
Now Caden was also annoyed. It was her fault that Caden was forced to obey any order for three days of every month. “You’ve cursed me enough, sorceress.”
Tito lay back and put his feet on the edge of the coffee table. His brow furrowed. After a moment, he said, “So no ritual magic? Got it. But you know, Ms. Primrose only said life force had to be used. She didn’t say anything about ritual magic.”
“Your point?” Caden said.
“Do you have to use ritual magic?” Tito said. “Is there another way to use life force?”
Brynne’s face lit up. She and Jane exchanged a look. With talk of magic and spells, it was as if they were in perfect sync—a sorceress and an enchantress teamed up to protect their homes. A slow smile spread across Jane’s face.
Caden, however, didn’t know what they were thinking. “I don’t understand.”
Brynne’s eyes were bright. “Maybe it is possible to sacrifice life force without sacrificing a life.” Her voice couldn’t contain her rising excitement. “Sir Tito, you’re brilliant.” Her gaze darted to Caden. She arched a brow. “Unlike some people.”
Perhaps Caden shouldn’t annoy her. Also. “How can you sacrifice life force without sacrificing a life?”
Jane squinted at him. “Enchantments contain life force. That includes those I’ve made.” She pulled her eyedrops from her pocket. “Maybe we can fuel the magic with items I’ve already enchanted.”
“Jane and I can work together,” Brynne said. “We can make something similar to a Razzonian communication pool. Only not. A spell like ritual magic, but sorcery, and fueled by enchantments.”
“I see,” Caden said.
“It will work,” Brynne said. “And we will warn the Greater Realm.”
Officer Levine and Rosa returned from the kitchen. Apparently, he needed to go back downtown when his shift started. Before he left, he patted Brynne on the shoulder. “You kids be good. Stay in and stay safe.” He bent down and spoke to them in a hushed tone. “Just give Rosa a little time. She’s trying to come to grips with the fact that I believe you kids and that Brynne just lost all her hair in the windstorm. I’ve had all summer to take it in. It’s not easy to accept. Magic and villains and all.”
After Officer Levine left and Rosa checked that everyone was all right, they headed upstairs.
“Call me if you need anything,” Rosa called after them.
Caden stopped midstep just before the stairs and turned back. “You believe me now, don’t you?”
Rosa furrowed her brow. “It’s a lot to believe, Caden.”
“You’ll believe soon. And once you do,” Caden said, and he offered his most charming smile, “you’ll see my actions are only courageous and good like the Elite Paladins.”
“I already know you’re courageous and good whether I believe you or not, Caden.”
Upstairs, Caden, Tito, Brynne, and Jane gathered in the girls’ room. Tito brought his green binder, and they wrote down all the details of the downtown spell. The girls huddled together on the floor. In front of them they set out the Enchanted Stapler of Stapling, a hammer, and a cup of water.
The stapler shimmered, its enchantment obvious close-up. The hammer, however, also glinted under the lamplight. The rubber handle looked smooth and finely molded.
Jane held up the hammer. “I enchanted it also.”
“I thought you were going to stop,” Tito said.
“I stopped doing big enchantments. This isn’t a big enchantment,” Jane said.
“What does it do?” Caden said.
“It smashes things,” Jane said, as if this should have been obvious. Caden dubbed it enchanted item one hundred thirty-five, the Enchanted Hammer of Smashing.
“But why?” Caden asked.
Brynne’s voice hummed with excitement. “We’re going to sacrifice life force in order to communicate with the Greater Realm, right? Jane and I talked, and we think the best way to do it is to break an item that’s already been enchanted. And our guess is that an enchanted item can only be broken by another enchanted item—an object with some sort of magic attached to it.”
“Hence, the Enchanted Hammer of Smashing,” Jane said. “We’re going to smash the stapler.”
“Only Rath Dunn’s enchanted dagger could tear Caden’s magical coat,” Brynne said. “And Tito’s magical necklace was only destroyed when a wall inscribed with ritual magic runes fell on him. We just need something to be the conduit from here to there.” She pursed her lips. “In the Greater Realm, we use specially forged pools or mirrors.”
“Then why not use a mirror?” Caden said.
“Tech is the magic of this world,” Brynne said. “If we want to connect this world to the magic of our world, I think technology needs to be part of it.”
Jane sat back on her heels, and she held up her phone. “What about my cell.”
“It needs to be flat with a larger surface area,” Brynne said.
Tito grumbled something and left the room. When he came back, he had his tablet. The one he cradled at night sometimes like a child’s precious toy. “I saved up all summer for this,” he said. “Will it work? I don’t want it smashed.”
Brynne and Jane exchanged looks. Then Jane said, “It’s perfect.”
Tito seemed reluctant to release it. “I don’t want it smashed,” he said again.
“Of course not, Sir Tito.” Brynne reached up and took it from him. “The screen must be flat and undamaged for communication. We must connect it to the other realm like it would connect to another device.”
“There are no computer tablets in the Greater Realm,” Caden said.
“But there are reflecting disks, mirrors, and all forms of reflective surfaces,” Brynne said, as if both Greater Realm magic and the local tech made perfect sense to her.
Caden remained skeptical. “I don’t believe you understand all this tech.”
She arched a brow. “You don’t have to believe me to make it so.”
Caden leaned over the tablet screen. He saw his royal self looking back. When he waved, his royal self waved, too. “We need to see the other realm, not ourselves.”
“It’s the camera function,” Brynne said. “There’s no life force in it yet. We haven’t smashed the stapler.”
He glanced up. “And how will releasing the life force of the stapler help us contact home?”
It was like she’d been waiting for the question. Her eyes were bright with magic and mischief. “Razzonian communication pools use telepathy sorcery—the mind magic of communication. The water and mirror of the pool enhance the connec
tion, and help to visualize the person to contact. So we’re making our version of a Razzonian communication pool. Sort of. But not. You see?”
There was a finite limit to the reach of such magic. Caden didn’t see. “In the Greater Realm, such magic barely reaches the Summerlands.”
Tito looked worriedly at his tablet, like he was regretting bringing it to the girls. “You’ve lost me, too.”
“We’re combining our magics with technology,” Jane said. “It’s cool.”
Brynne nodded; she seemed lost in the wonder of magic and technology. “And my magic will be combined with the life force from the enchantments, too.”
“And that’s stronger?” Caden said.
“Yes,” Brynne said, and held up the cup of water. “Now you two, move back, watch, and learn.”
Looking troubled, Tito scooted against the yellow wall. He patted the spot beside him like he expected Caden to sit there. Royalty didn’t usually sit on floors, but Caden supposed he could do so this once.
Jane made sure the tablet was secure. Brynne readied the water and hammer.
Tito covered his eyes. “I can’t watch this.”
“You give up your tablet for the good of all peoples. This is the action of an Elite Paladin.” Caden reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll watch for you, Sir Tito.”
Brynne poured a small amount of water over the lit tablet surface. The water sat like a thin film atop the device. Truth be told, it did somewhat resemble a small, square Razzonian communication pool.
Tito peeked through his fingers. “I’m not all that wild about the fact you’re pouring water over it.” Tito was protective of his Ashevillian tech pieces. “I’m going to have to stick it in a sack of rice for a week.” He brought his hands down and looked at Caden. “You know, to—”
“To draw out the moisture,” Caden said.
Tito raised his brows. Brynne seemed surprised. Jane nodded.
“I know things,” Caden said. He learned them watching television.
Brynne and Jane turned back to their work. It seemed their plan ended with water on the screen.