Quest Maker

by Laurie McKay

  “Maybe the plants were sacrifices, too.” The wound on his arm was really stinging now.

  “Possibly,” said Brynne. Her fingers moved surely as she sent Jane a message. “We should check the auditorium again. And the cafeteria, as it is the lunch witch’s domain.”

  Caden wasn’t really listening though. Dead rats and runes weren’t proof enough. He doubted proof of ritual magic or reanimation would be useful by Ashevillian standards. Maybe he should try to get those responsible to confess? After all, he was gifted in speech.

  Suddenly, the ache in his arm turned to a slashing pain. It bled. It felt like it did when he walked into math class and Rath Dunn sat behind his desk. It felt as it did when the blood dagger was close. As he stood there, the pain got bad. His realization was worse. His stomach dropped.

  They weren’t alone.

  If the blood dagger was near, so was Rath Dunn. Caden signaled to the others.

  Tito shone his light at Caden. “Bro, what’s wrong—”

  Caden mouthed, “Quiet.” He flipped off his light. Tito did the same. In the dim glow from her phone, Brynne looked wide-eyed and worried. Then she turned it off, too, and the room went black.

  The darkness felt like a solid weight pressing in on Caden. The only sounds were the quiet rasps of his, Brynne’s, and Tito’s breaths. None of them moved.

  Between breaths, Caden heard the shuffle of footsteps, the sounds of feet outside the door. He felt blood pool around his bandage. Brynne sucked in a quick breath. He reached out and grabbed her hand, then reached out with the other to grab Tito’s.

  Someone turned a key. Then the jiggling of the key stopped abruptly—as if the person was surprised the door was unlocked. Caden heard the doorknob turn slowly.

  He, Brynne, and Tito crouched in the dark. They weren’t hidden per se, but they weren’t standing up. It was too late to move to better cover. All they had was the dark and the desks.

  Two figures entered. A glow came from the larger one’s hand—a cell phone—but the light didn’t reach the back of the room. The ache in Caden’s arm intensified. The figure moved the cell phone near some of the rubble, then to the flasks lined up on the counter, like he was interested in the destruction. When he chuckled, there was no doubt it was Rath Dunn.

  Caden kept as still as the dead. If the tyrant found them alone, he’d hurt them. Likely kill them. Then he would hide their bodies, and they’d be labeled runaways like Jane had been before they’d saved her. Or worse, he’d give their bodies to Mr. Bellows to be reanimated.

  The second figure stood near him. “One of my more interesting spells.” It was Ms. Jackson, the lunch witch, the mistress of ritual magic. She was a criminal returning to the scene of her crime. She held a box under her arm. “They’ll suffer for taking my brother and sister.”

  “Patience, beautiful.” His voice was like velvet. “Take whatever you like.” With great care, Rath Dunn picked up the large flask on the counter, one of the few surviving pieces of Mrs. Belle’s glassware, and offered it to her. “From me to you, with my utmost admiration.”

  She took it. Under his phone’s dim light, her skin seemed to glow. Her hair looked soft and thick. Her eyes were bright. Her terrible beauty was the reason Jane’s mother was lost. “What I truly want is the little half elf.”

  Tito pulled his hand away. At first Caden feared he’d attack or do something else foolish. Then Caden saw a soft, shielded glow from Tito’s direction. He’d taken his cell phone from his pocket. Caden glanced to the front worriedly. This was a bad time for a text message.

  Brynne squeezed Caden’s hand tighter. Tito’s breaths became faster.

  Ms. Jackson strolled toward the back of the room. Rath Dunn held up his phone to light the way. The dim light stretched across the floor inches from Caden’s boot. It was lucky that they’d moved away from the rat cabinet. Ms. Jackson opened it. She grabbed two of the dead rats by the tails and set them in a box. “For my porridge,” she said, and cackled. She sauntered back to the front. “I want that chatty prince, too,” she said. “He’s the reason my siblings are gone.”

  “That’s not part of our deal,” Rath Dunn said. He pulled something from his vest—an envelope—and left it on the front counter. “And I’ve already promised him to his brother.”

  Had Brynne not been holding his hand, Caden would have sprawled over. What did that mean? But Rath Dunn and Ms. Jackson had grown quiet, like they sensed another presence, like the math tyrant and the lunch witch knew they were not alone.

  Brynne was squeezing hard enough to hurt his hand now. Tito was breathing far too loud. Caden held his breath. They would soon be discovered. In the middle of the night, in this dark school, who knew what these two villains would do to them.

  Rath Dunn didn’t shine his phone toward them, though. He shone it toward the door he and Ms. Jackson had left open, then turned the light upward by the ceiling. Near the top of the doorframe, two eyes flashed green—the type of eyes that could see in darkness. Whatever creature possessed them watched Rath Dunn. In the glow of phone light, it looked like it had long, spidery limbs stretched out on all sides.

  Rath Dunn chuckled. “Stop creeping around,” he said to the shadowy figure. “It’s uncouth. And you wonder why the students call you Creepy Creedly.”

  As Rath Dunn spoke, Brynne whispered in his ear, “Breathe, prince.”

  Caden inhaled, though his heart was pounding. There were now three villains in the front of the room, villains he feared would hear his heart beating and attack them. Elite Paladins didn’t panic, though. They slayed dragons and fought evil, and they did so bravely. Caden would also be brave as soon as he caught his breath.

  If his great father, King Axel, were here, he’d say, “Rely on your training. Don’t let emotion hinder you,” and he’d be right. Caden breathed slower. He peered to the front of the room, to the figures visible from the soft glow of Rath Dunn’s phone.

  The creature on the ceiling seemed to rotate so that it was standing on the floor. It spoke in a hiss. “You don’t belong here.” Now Caden could see that it was, in fact, Mr. Creedly. “This isn’t your room.”

  “We came to pay our respects,” he said. “Nothing more.” He grabbed another flask and gave it to Ms. Jackson. “For your special brew,” he said.

  Mr. Creedly crept closer, his green eyes set on Ms. Jackson. She cradled a flask in each hand, the box closed and tucked beneath her arm. The shadow of Mr. Creedly’s limbs looked like a net. “This isn’t your room,” he repeated. “Or your flasks, old one.”

  Ms. Jackson seemed to bristle at the “old.” “They’re my flasks now.” There was something cold and cruel in her words. “And it’s not your room either.”

  “Now, now, Ms. Jackson,” Rath Dunn said. “Mr. Creedly and Mrs. Belle are friends. He’s trying to look out for her.” He sidestepped Mr. Creedly. “Besides, you’d be better served worrying about that Elite Paladin who is going to teach gym than getting in our way. I’d bet that one knows your kind, and like me, knows how to kill you.”

  “You and the necromancer destroyed this room, old one,” Mr. Creedly said.

  “Oh, you think so? And you caused the bee swarm,” Ms. Jackson said.

  “Yes,” Rath Dunn said. “Thank you for that.”

  Mr. Creedly cocked his head. “I’ll destroy you. I’ll destroy those who aren’t loyal to her. Those who annoy her. I serve her. No one is as devoted as me.”

  “Is that why you attacked those she favors more than you?” Rath Dunn said. “You’ll have to do better than insects next time. Well, Bellows was upset about his spelling bee getting interrupted. He’d planned it for weeks,” Rath Dunn said, and chuckled. “But your little stunt was helpful. I’ve collected several complaints.” He leaned nearer to Mr. Creedly. “Now move.”

  “This isn’t your—”

  “I go where I please,” Rath Dunn said, and it was a threat.

  Rath Dunn seemed to stare into Mr. Creedly’s shining green eyes for a
long moment. Then he held the door for Ms. Jackson as if she was merely a beautiful lunch lady, and not an evil youth-stealing lunch witch, and strode out after her. The door slammed shut behind them. Their footfalls faded down the hall in the direction of the cafeteria. The pain in Caden’s arm began to wane. Without Rath Dunn’s phone, and with Tito’s hidden by his hand, the science room returned to stifling darkness.

  Still, Caden, Brynne, and Tito stayed crouched. The smell of necromancy irritated Caden’s nose. The darkness pressed down on him. The muscles in his thighs began to ache. He dared not move. He dared not think of what he’d just heard. Mr. Creedly was still in the room.

  An eternity seemed to pass. Then: “I hear your heartbeats,” Mr. Creedly said.

  There was a skittering above, like tapping on the ceiling. Caden glanced up. In the black above, he felt something looking down.

  “I see you, young ones.”

  There was no more hiding. Caden flipped on his flashlight and shone it at the ceiling. Shiny green eyes stared back down at him. Brynne gasped. Tito jumped up. In one hand, he held his cell phone, in the other, he brandished his unlit flashlight like a club.

  “And we see you,” Caden said as calmly as he could.

  Sometimes, it was important to feign bravery.

  Mr. Creedly’s strange green eyes glowered down at Caden. His lips were set in a snarl, his teeth fanglike. The rest of him seemed devoured in shadow.

  Then the shadows shifted, and soon Mr. Creedly was standing—feet on the floor—in front of Caden. In the closed room, with only the flashlights to see by, it looked almost as if there were spider legs crawling under his skin. He seemed the embodiment of swarming bees and skittering rodents, like something that would nest with the auditorium roaches.

  Tito kept his flashlight at the ready. He had his phone in his other hand. Brynne was as motionless as the darkness and looked ready to flick Mr. Creedly away with her telekinesis magic or incinerate him with her pyrokinesis. Truth be told, her magic was likely too strong for an enclosed space like the wood-windowed science room. Better she unleash her power as a last resort.

  “You don’t belong here,” Mr. Creedly hissed.

  “We’ll go,” Tito said, and took a step toward the door.

  Mr. Creedly held out a long arm and blocked his way. His eyes flashed green as they caught the light. “You’ll stay, young one. You’re trapped in my shadow.”

  Caden was unsure what that meant, but it couldn’t mean anything good. All Caden knew was that the long-limbed creature was possessive of Ms. Primrose and seemed oddly friendly with Mrs. Belle. He couldn’t think of two more opposite people than Creepy Creedly and sweet Mrs. Belle. Caden cleared his throat. “She”—he emphasized the “she” so he knew he spoke of the Elderdragon—“won’t be happy if we aren’t in class Monday. If three students go missing from her school, it will be an embarrassment. Someone will get eaten.”

  “She understands my kind. It’s in our nature. We will envelop you.” Mr. Creedly folded his arms in and out and twisted until his strange eyes locked on Caden. “She likes you,” he hissed.

  That Caden couldn’t deny. It seemed Mr. Creedly loathed anyone who was competition for her favor. And the longer Caden kept Mr. Creedly talking, the longer Mr. Creedly wasn’t attacking, and Caden would much prefer if his enemies fought among themselves and left him and his friends alone.

  Caden took a deep breath. “It’s true. I amuse her,” he said, and Mr. Creedly crept closer to him. Caden spoke slowly and clearly. “But it’s Rath Dunn who is her favorite.”

  “Rathis,” Mr. Creedly hissed, but he kept his eyes focused on Caden. “First you, young one, then him.” As his anger seemed to grow, so did the sounds around them. The quiet was replaced with squeaks and the sounds of tiny feet in the hall. Dark shapes squeezed under the gap between door and floor.

  Tito stepped toward the front counter. “Bro, those are rats. And not dead ones.”

  Brynne lifted her hands. She pushed like she was using all her power to drive Mr. Creedly into the whiteboard behind the front counter. Caden had seen her use telekinesis magic to move men and women who were more solid than Mr. Creedly. “Get away from us!”

  Nothing happened, but Brynne was breathing hard from the effort. Mr. Creedly turned to her. “Magic affects but one,” he said, and he extended one of his long arms out and around her. “And I am many.”

  So Mr. Creedly was more shadow and swarm than man. He was too many pieces and places for Brynne’s magic to target, and whatever small speck she flung away was replaced with more darkness and insects.

  Brynne looked ready to light the room on fire. Tito was about to charge with his flashlight. Tonight, they would fight. But how would they win against an enemy made of shadows and darkness, an enemy whose weakness—and powers—they didn’t know?

  One of Mr. Creedly’s spidery shadow arms snaked itself around Tito’s calf. Another crept along the floor toward Caden’s boots. Brynne dodged a dark shape slithering toward her neck.

  Caden didn’t know exactly what Mr. Creedly was, but he seemed to be made of insects, spiders, and vermin—a sentient swarm whose true form could only be seen at night. Caden, Brynne, and Tito needed to get away from him. To do that, they needed a distraction. And Mr. Creedly hadn’t seen what was in Ms. Jackson’s box.

  Caden squared his shoulders. He kicked open the rat cabinet. Five still remained. “Your kind have suffered here,” he said, “but not by our hands.”

  Mr. Creedly widened his eyes. His web of shadows drew inward, then moved toward the dead creatures. He gathered them to him. They absorbed into his chest. Ants scampered down his cheeks like meandering tears.

  Then Mr. Creedly turned his focus to Caden. His jaw seemed to dislocate and unhitch from his skull, and he let out an unearthly scream. It was a loud, hollow, high-pitched sound. The last intact glass beaker shattered. Vermin squeezed under the plywood window.

  They had their chance.

  “Run!” Caden yelled.

  Tito and Brynne darted for the door. Brynne waved her hand. The door flew from the hinges and slammed up and into the ceiling. Caden plowed through the rats and ran after them for the hall. As he did, Mr. Creedly’s screams stopped, and Caden heard skittering footsteps following. Mr. Creedly hunted them.

  They ran down the hall for the side door that led outside. Caden glimpsed back and saw Mr. Creedly running across the ceiling. He reached for Caden with his shadowy arms. Caden ran faster, but Mr. Creedly latched on to his wrist. It knocked Caden off balance and—clank—he crashed face-first into an open locker door.

  His left cheek stung. It felt as if hundreds of small, sharp needles pierced the skin by his wrist. Without thinking, he brought the flashlight down and smashed Mr. Creedly’s arm. It dissolved into a fluttering mass of termites, ants, and wasps. Mr. Creedly screamed. He lunged at Caden with five long shadows.

  Brynne turned. “Caden!” She looked like she was going to run back.

  Tito was at the side door. He had opened it. He turned back as well.

  “Keep running!” Caden yelled. “Don’t stop!”

  The flashlight was no sword, but it was heavy. It had smashed the one arm well enough. Caden dropped into attack stance seven. Attack stance seven was for multiple opponents, and Mr. Creedly claimed to be many.

  Caden had to be fast—fast and sure like his brothers and father had trained him. He smashed the next arm with a downward strike. Insects screeched out. Then he spun around. He kicked through arm three and drove the flashlight through arm four. Arm one was starting to reform. He slammed the light into arm five. He was left in a cloud of insects, but already the insects were morphing back into shadow.

  Caden dashed for the door.

  Brynne and Tito were running back toward him.

  “I told you to run away!” Caden said.

  Tito skidded to a stop and switched directions. Brynne did the same. They zoomed through the side door to outside. The spring air felt soft on Caden’
s skin.

  Tito slammed the door shut behind them. They ran down the drive, and Caden whistled for Sir Horace. His mighty horse charged from the night like a cavalry of one and knelt before them. They were galloping away when Caden heard the side door crash open. The night was filled with Mr. Creedly’s high-pitched, terrifying screech. When Caden chanced a look back, he saw a spidery form with long limbs and reflective green eyes watching from the side of the school.

  Caden turned and faced forward. Instead of directing Sir Horace through the creature-filled forests, he let his steed run on the empty night roads, cautious to look for cars and to stop at the colorful intersection lights. Soon they were in Rosa’s sculpture-filled yard.

  Caden and Brynne climbed down from Sir Horace. Tito fell off.

  Caden petted Sir Horace’s mane. For now, they were safe.

  “So,” Tito said. He brushed off his jeans, got to his feet, and reached into his pack. “Look what I grabbed out of the drawer.” He waved an envelope in the air, the one Rath Dunn had planted in the room.

  Brynne beamed in the moonlight. “Sir Tito, you’re becoming a regular thief!”

  While Caden was glad Tito had grabbed the envelope, he didn’t think thieving skills were such a good thing. He pointed at Brynne. “You’ve been training him.”

  “So?” Brynne said. “You’ve been training him, too. Why can’t I?”

  “I’m training him to become an Elite Paladin, not a thief.”

  “Actually, I’m going to be an architect,” Tito said. He fiddled with the envelope. “It’s already been opened.”

  The back door creaked open. They all held their breaths. A moment later, Jane stepped out. She was dressed in her nightclothes and her feet were bare. “Did you find anything?”

  “Loads of creepy crap,” Tito said. He held up the envelope. “And whatever this is. Mr. Rathis put it in the science room.”

  “How do you know?”