by Laurie McKay
Did their father think Jasan had done something to Caden? That made no sense. Caden frowned and felt his brows draw close. “Father sent me away. He knows that. Why would he think—”
“You didn’t come back.” Jasan clenched and unclenched his fists as if wanting to hit a memory. “And there was proof,” he said, his voice low. “Bloody clothes and ashes. Your favorite sword was broken. They found it in my room.”
“No,” Caden said. “My sword is here, in Asheville. The police have it. It fell to this land with Brynne and me.”
“Then a copy,” Jasan said, and for a moment, he seemed to look sad, “and a good one.”
Proof or not, how could their father believe Jasan would hurt Chadwin? Hurt Caden? Jasan was an Elite Paladin. He was noble and brave. “Why would they think that you’d hurt me?”
“They all know I don’t like you.” His words echoed against the bleachers. Anyone in fifty strides or a nearby classroom would have heard.
Caden felt the color drain from his face.
It wasn’t the first time Jasan had said something like that. When they were younger, when Jasan was about Caden’s age, he’d even said it in front of the castle staff. Caden’s own anger began to build, but he fought it down. People usually grew to like Caden, and Jasan did like him, even if he didn’t realize it.
Besides, it annoyed Jasan more when Caden didn’t get upset. He squared his shoulders. “I know you didn’t kill Chadwin or me.” He glanced down at himself. “Especially me. I’m obviously not dead.”
“But Chadwin is dead,” Jasan said.
It was said like a challenge. It was said in anger. Caden wasn’t sure why Jasan would say something like that, but Caden needed to reply thoughtfully.
That was when three things happened all at once.
One, Caden felt his phone buzz with a new call.
Two, the emergency lights started flashing.
Three, a loud scream echoed from the front of the school.
Banished or not, Jasan was a trained Elite Paladin. He ran toward the scream so fast he was a blur. Caden chased after him. After all, Caden was a future Elite Paladin.
More screams echoed down the hall, followed by cursing in the common tongue. And cursing in Spanish and English. Caden dodged students exiting to the lawn (no doubt they were worried about more smelly gas) and ran to the classroom where Brynne, Tito, and Jane had their honors English while he was in his literacy class. The hall alarm outside it had been pulled.
From inside, he heard Jane say, “Get away from her!” Jane didn’t normally shout. Caden burst into the room.
Brynne was hunched by a desk, her neck at an awkward angle, her long dark hair glued to the back of the chair where Caden assumed she’d been sitting. Jane was beside her, a small figure of fury with her cell phone out. It seemed it was Jane who had called him. Tito was near the door. Likely, it was he who had pulled the alarm. Caden had to admit he was proud that his friends knew how to take action in an emergency.
The English teacher, Mr. Bellows, stood near the front with gleaming silver scissors raised like a weapon. His gray skin looked dull under the yellow light. His pointed features were pulled into a sneer. Jasan stood between Mr. Bellows and the girls.
“Move,” Mr. Bellows said. “My student’s hair is stuck to the chair.” The scissors glinted in the light. “I must cut it free.”
That was a very unwise thing to say. Brynne’s eyes narrowed. She struggled like a frost lynx caught in a bowman’s pit. “No one’s cutting my hair,” she growled.
Caden hurried to his brother’s side. The blood-dagger wound on his arm started to ache and he heard someone else enter the room. Caden knew who it was without turning. Rath Dunn. And Caden hadn’t yet warned Jasan of the danger awaiting him.
When Jasan turned and saw Rath Dunn, his face lost all expression, and his chest moved with slow breaths. Never had Caden seen his brother react like this. Caden was certain Jasan would attack. However, Caden wasn’t certain Jasan would win. Even if Jasan prevailed, Ms. Primrose would devour him for it. Killing was against the rules in her contract. She would have to be extremely distracted not to notice an attack.
Caden locked his arm around his brother’s and turned sideways so that he could see everyone in the room. Rath Dunn was dressed in a bloodred vest, dark shirt, and brown slacks. As fast as Jasan was, it would be difficult for him to fight with Caden latched on to him. “Not here, brother,” Caden said in Royal Razzon.
Rath Dunn spoke in the same language. “Listen to the boy,” he said, and grinned. The scar splitting his face tugged at his mouth. “You don’t want to get hurt.”
Caden felt the bandage he kept wrapped around his wound dampen, and blood dripped down his arm. “Don’t let him bait you,” he said. “He wants your blood.”
“And I want his,” Jasan said.
Caden’s gaze flickered back to Mr. Bellows’s scissors. Mr. Bellows and Rath Dunn had seemed friendly on the lawn. Lest Caden forget, it wasn’t only Jasan’s blood Rath Dunn sought. He also wanted magical locks. Caden understood. He wanted Brynne’s hair.
At this moment, it wasn’t Jasan who was in danger. It was Brynne. Caden gripped his brother tighter. “We must keep them from getting Brynne’s hair.”
Mr. Bellows had stepped closer to her. Tito stepped beside Jane. There they faced each other—Tito, the future Elite Paladin; Jane, the enchantress and future Elite Paladin; and Brynne, the sorceress—against the evil English teacher with the scissors.
Brynne looked livid and terrified. She glowered at Mr. Bellows. “Touch my hair and I’ll make you regret it, necromancer,” she said, and none of the fear in her eyes could be heard in her voice. It didn’t quaver; it didn’t shake.
At that moment, Caden truly believed she was the most dangerous person in the room.
It seemed Tito agreed. “Dude, don’t come closer. She means it.”
Jasan glanced to where his and Caden’s arms were locked, at the small bit of blood dribbling from under Caden’s sleeve. He said nothing, then pulled Caden nearer to Brynne and her chair. He raised his arm. “Be still,” he told her.
Brynne’s eyes widened. Then, with an incredibly fast and tight blow, he knocked the back off the chair. Tito dived and caught it, then raised it so Brynne could straighten her head. She grabbed it from him and tucked it to her chest protectively, hair still glued to it.
Jane looked between them. “I’ll call Rosa.”
Rath Dunn didn’t move. Then, with a smile and a shrug, he stepped back. “Best be careful,” he told Brynne. “Sometimes girls lose their heads when they lose their hair.”
Rath Dunn guffawed and disappeared out the door. Mr. Bellows hurried after him, scissors tight in hand and gaze never leaving Jasan. It seemed the chair display had made an impression on him.
It seemed it had also made an impression on Brynne. Her snarl at Mr. Bellows morphed into a dopey smile when she turned to Jasan, her cheeks turning rosy. Which made no sense. She’d met Jasan many times before. Jane and Tito watched Jasan, too. Truth be told, they’d gone a bit rosy cheeked as well.
Jasan, of course, stared after Rath Dunn like he was about to chase him down and attack.
Brynne stepped closer to Jasan and cradled the chair seat to her chest. “Thank you, Your Highness,” she said in the common tongue, and in a sincere, annoying manner she never used when addressing Caden.
Jasan glanced back at her. He kept to the royal tongue. “Be more careful.” Then he pulled Caden to the side of the classroom, near the window, and spoke in quiet, quick words. “Rath Dunn, the tyrant, is the same as me, trapped by this Ms. Primrose?”
That’s right. It wasn’t time for Caden to be annoyed. Quickly, he explained about the vials. “And he moves against her,” Caden whispered. “And he wants Brynne’s hair, and Ms. Primrose’s perfume. And your blood. You must be careful, too.”
Jasan didn’t look careful. He looked reckless and ready to challenge Rath Dunn to a fight to the death. He
looked like he’d discovered new purpose in the middle school.
“Don’t fight him. Even if you win, Ms. Primrose will devour you for killing her favorite teacher.”
“I don’t care,” Jasan said, and sounded like he meant it.
“You should care,” Caden said. “I care.”
Jasan let go of him and moved away. “Until you can get home, just stay safe. Keep away from me, and keep away from Rath Dunn.”
That wasn’t possible. “The tyrant teaches my math class. I’ve got a quest and—” Caden started, but Jasan was gone in an instant. The alarm stopped flashing. There were the sounds of doors opening and students returning to the building.
Tito leaned against the doorframe. He, of course, spoke in the local tongue. “I don’t know what he said, but he didn’t sound happy.”
“He’s never happy,” Caden said.
Brynne walked up beside him. “He’s just intense.” She’d tucked the seat back under her arm. The soft smile remained on her face. “And you’re right. We must save him. And you.” She glowered down to where her hair was stuck to the seat back. “I hope Rath Dunn and Mr. Bellows are connected to that gas accident. They deserve to be eaten.”
“And Ms. Jackson,” Jane said.
“Certainly,” Brynne said. “That goes without saying.”
Rosa picked up Brynne early and promised to find something to unstick her hair from the seat back. She took Jane home, too, as Brynne claimed to need her for support, and Rosa had a soft spot for Brynne. Tito and Caden were left at school, each with detention slips, Tito for pulling the fire alarm—which apparently could have brought him much worse trouble than detention—and Caden for being late to his morning class a second time. Once again, he’d forgotten to get a note.
Mrs. Belle’s science class had been relocated to a corner of the cafeteria. Caden, Tito, and the rest of her students crowded around two lunch tables. Scents of roasting ham and apricot crumble wafted from the kitchen. Caden leaned over to Tito. “Let’s question Mrs. Belle.”
“After class, bro,” Tito said, and arranged his colorful pens. “I need these notes.” He held up his thumb and first finger. “I’m this close to the seventh-grade science award at the end-of-year ceremony. I need it to win the overall.”
“These awards aren’t as important as my quest,” Caden said.
“Bro, these awards are my quest. They’re important to me,” Tito said. “I’ve worked all year for them.”
It was true Tito worked hard. But no one would get eaten if Tito failed to get his awards. Caden left that unsaid. Although Caden found it challenging, he was beginning to learn when not to say things. Truly, his skills in speech were growing.
Halfway through the cafeteria science class, Mr. Bellows walked in. On the far wall, he taped up a poster for the spelling bee, then another.
Mrs. Belle stopped her lesson on the moons, stars, and the once-and-future planet Pluto. “Five minute break, ladies and gentlemen.” She tapped her bloodred-painted nails against the table. “Then we’ll have a quiz.”
Derek groaned and asked Olivia to share her notes with him. Tito turned to his notebook. He would “cram,” as he called it, until the quiz was in front of him. Caden doubted there was much any of them could learn in five minutes. He got up and walked over to Mrs. Belle.
It was from her room that the gas had originated, and Mr. Bellows had been skulking near the locked door yesterday. Caden motioned to Mr. Bellows. “He tried to steal my friend’s hair,” he said. “What’s the reason for your anger?”
Mrs. Belle turned. Her scowl disappeared, and she smiled. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re glaring at Mr. Bellows,” Caden said. “Why?”
“I dislike the distractions.”
“Is that all?” he said. “Do you suspect he was involved in the gas explosion? I saw him trying to get into your room.”
Mrs. Belle’s fingers froze midtap. Carefully, she said, “The police said that was an accident, Caden.”
The police could call it that, but Caden wouldn’t. He was certain it was a not-accident. An incident. An act of sabotage. “I don’t think so.”
Mrs. Belle’s smile faltered. “Don’t spread that type of rumor,” she said. “I might get blamed.” She lowered her voice. “You’d be smart, prince, to stop attracting notice. Now wait, quietly.” She shuffled a stack of papers on the cafeteria table and called to the class. “Three more minutes.”
Caden stepped from the corner area to the empty cafeteria. Mr. Bellows moved near the serving area. From the kitchen, Ms. Jackson, the lunch witch, strode out toward him.
Her lush brown hair, smooth skin, and sparkling eyes were beautiful. Her chef’s uniform was sleek and midnight black. Two red bands were wrapped around her upper arms—symbols of her vows to avenge her lost brother and sister. Beside her, Mr. Bellows looked like a gray-skinned, dull-eyed, talking corpse.
They were whispering.
Caden moved closer, but Ms. Jackson took notice of him. She left Mr. Bellows to his posters and stalked Caden’s way, straightening chairs and tables as she approached. Once she was within an arm’s distance, she said, “You destroyed my family, young prince.”
Caden saw Tito and Mrs. Belle watching from the back corner. “They took Jane,” Caden said.
Ms. Jackson brushed a pencil shaving from his coat. So close, she smelled like baking bread and sweet spices. “Well, now I’m going to destroy yours.”
With the exception of Jasan, Caden’s family was a realm away. They were noble and powerful Elite Paladins. But her threat sounded real. And Jasan was banished. “I see,” he said. “And how are you going to do that?”
“It’s a surprise.” She started to laugh. “Maybe your brother will help me.”
“None of my brothers would help you.”
She leaned closer. “Don’t be so certain.”
“Caden!” Mrs. Belle waved to him from the converted classroom area.
Caden turned away, but Ms. Jackson grabbed his arm. Her gaze skidded to the other students. “After your family breaks into shambles, I’ll drain all you brats. You, dear prince, second to last. Right after Tito and right before Jane. I’m saving Jane for last.”
“All you’ll do,” he said, “is continue to serve cafeteria food.”
He walked back to the converted classroom area. Behind him, he heard Ms. Jackson laugh. It started as a pleasant giggle but devolved into a cackle. The sixth graders who had first lunch began to arrive. Caden pushed through them, passing by Ward and Tonya in the crowd. He nodded at his allies, then took his seat beside Tito.
Tito pointed his blue pen toward Ms. Jackson. “What was that?”
“An empty threat.”
Mrs. Belle walked over and motioned for him and Tito to sit farther apart. She placed a quiz in front of Tito, then Caden. She’d written out Caden’s in the common tongue. No other teacher did that for him. “Be careful of Ms. Jackson,” she said quietly. “She’s very old. And very cruel.”
At second lunch, Caden and Tito were released from the converted classroom area into the cafeteria proper. Ms. Jackson served roasted ham and apricot crumble to a long line of salivating students. Tito returned from the serving line with a double helping.
“Mr. Rathis is on ham-carving duty back there,” Tito said. He dropped his voice. “He and Ms. Jackson seemed pretty happy with themselves. No idea why, though.” He held up a piece of ham. “Maybe because the food is so darn good today. I mean it—it’s like heaven.”
“The witch probably cooked someone. For all you know, you’re eating a classmate,” Caden said.
“A delicious classmate,” Tito said. He scanned the lunchroom. “Too bad. Derek’s over at the front table. Guess it’s not him.”
In the Greater Realm, there were beings that would cook and eat people. Especially children. It was hardly a joking matter. Caden sighed. “Why do you take Rath Dunn and the lunch witch’s food, Sir Tito?”
“Why shouldn’t I? It tastes
good. I see what they’re up to. And it bugs them that they can’t get inside my head.”
Caden wasn’t so sure about that. “They could get inside it if they had an ax,” he said.
Tito peered at him for a moment, like he was considering explaining something. Finally, he said, “Good point,” and ate a forkful of the crumble. “But they’re messing with you. You’ve got to pretend like they’re not getting to you. You’ve got to relax. Like me.”
Caden leaned back in his chair. “I don’t pretend,” he said. “Or relax.”
“That’s your whole problem, bro.”
“My problem is an Elderdragon is going to eat me and my brother if we don’t find evidence that the gas incident was sabotage,” Caden said, and crossed his arms.
“Yeah,” Tito said. “That, too.”
In math class, Rath Dunn seemed to be in good spirits as he boomed out a lecture on death rates and decimals. Caden’s attention wandered from the board to Rath Dunn’s desk. To the drawer where Caden had found the vials labeled “Tear of Elf,” “Magical Locks,” “Blood of Son,” and “Essence of Dragon.” Why was he collecting such things? For that matter, why would anyone sabotage the science room?
When the class finished, Caden gathered his things. He and Tito had detention—he for his second tardy, Tito for his alarm pull. Caden felt sure he could talk Mr. McDonald into letting them walk the halls. They would make detention useful and search the school.
Rath Dunn, however, blocked Caden from the door. “You and Tito stay,” he said.
The other students rushed out.
Tito stepped up beside Caden. “We have detention,” he said.
“I know. With me.”
“With Mr. McDonald,” Caden corrected.
The three of them were now alone in the room. Rath Dunn reached to the door and locked it. His smile could have chilled a flame spirit.
“I switched weeks with him,” Rath Dunn said. “You should be grateful. He doesn’t know much about punishment. Or math.”
As school was over, Tito pulled his blue sparkly cell phone from his bag. “I’m calling Rosa.”