Cave of Nightmares

by V. St. Clair

  “Master Asher,” he tried to recover from his surprise. “I’m sorry; I didn’t tell Bonk to attack your dragon. We were just playing ‘fetch’ and he got away from me.”

  Torin patted a spot on the ground beside him and Hayden took a seat, feeling awkward for interrupting the Prism Master and his father during their free time. Side by side, the resemblance between them was even more pronounced.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Asher waved a dismissive hand. “It’s not the first time Bonk has dive-bombed Cinder. Actually, we were just playing ‘fetch’ as well; dragons do seem to be terribly fond of the game, for whatever reason.”

  A hawk landed lightly on his shoulder just then, and Asher reached up to stroke its head affectionately.

  “How come you have two familiars?” Hayden asked, watching Bonk’s continued attempts to incinerate the other dragon.

  “Because I’m that awesome,” the Prism Master smiled, earning an eye-roll from Torin. “In fact, Horace here is my familiar.” He gestured to the hawk on his shoulder. “But Cinder is fond of me so I take care of him as well. He even consents to help me out from time to time, magically-speaking.”

  The two dragons finally stopped rolling around in the grass, and Bonk retrieved his red rubber mouse and waddled over to Torin with it.

  “Guess it’s my turn to entertain him,” the older man chuckled, drawing a wand from his pocket and waving it carelessly. The toy vanished from thin air, and Bonk took flight and flew towards Torin’s log cabin.

  “What did you do with it?” Hayden frowned.

  “I hid it. You said you were playing ‘fetch’ with him earlier, didn’t you?”

  Asher pulled his eyepiece down so that his prism was in place, vanishing a fake weasel and watching Cinder fly towards the nearby woods.

  “But how does the dragon know where to look?” Hayden asked, confused.

  “Dragons are powerfully magical, son. Finding a rubber chew toy is well within their capabilities.” Torin watched him. “How were you playing ‘fetch’, if you weren’t hiding things?”

  Hayden felt his face burn in embarrassment when he answered.

  “I was just throwing it and letting him bring it back to me.”

  Master Asher chuckled in amusement.

  “I suspect that’s the best you’ll be able to do until you learn more magic.” He held out his hand as Cinder returned to him with the fake weasel. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Bonk appreciates the activity either way.”

  Hayden’s familiar returned a moment later and deposited the toy at Torin’s feet.

  “I didn’t even want to come outside this morning, but he wouldn’t leave me alone long enough to do my homework.”

  Asher raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Already got your nose to the grindstone? You’re the studious sort, aren’t you?”

  Hayden frowned.

  “Not really, I just wanted to get everything done today so I could enjoy tomorrow. I don’t like having things looming over my head.”

  “Good for you, lad.” Torin clapped him on the shoulder. “You go on and finish your work. We’ll keep Bonk occupied for a while.”

  “Thanks,” Hayden got to his feet and brushed the grass off his pants. “Um, Master Asher…I was also wondering if I could have permission to own a prism so that my challenge group can start practicing.”

  The Prism Master gave him an appraising look.

  “Have I not already cleared you?” He frowned thoughtfully. “I’ll take care of it before lunch.”

  Hayden thanked him and collected his things, heading back to the main courtyard to continue his homework on the off-chance that Asher and Torin would get tired of playing with Bonk and send him back.

  He pulled out the cup of dirt from Wands and poured it out carefully on the pavement, covering the seed completely and drawing his birch wand from his belt. He closed his eyes and tried to do as Master Willow had instructed, imagining every detail about the seed and the dirt that he could think of.

  He waved his wand and said, “Grow.”

  Nothing happened.

  After six more attempts without any success, he was beginning to suspect he’d gotten a defective seed. Frustrated, he swept the entire mess into the grass beside the courtyard, not caring that he’d have to ask for another seed to practice with on Gerin when he next had class.

  Maybe that stupid seed will grow properly now that it’s in the ground, he thought mulishly.

  As he contemplated the prospect of beginning his conjury practice, a new idea occurred to him.

  Hayden glanced back at the seed, barely visible amongst the grass. He knelt down and pushed it into the ground, which was soft from last night’s rain. Not really expecting anything to happen, he withdrew his birch wand once more, pointed it at the ground and said, “Grow.”

  A daisy shot out of the grass, unfolding its petals as though to shake off the dirt. Stunned, Hayden scooted backwards and looked around to see if anyone was nearby and watching. A few older students were sitting on a bench on the other side of the courtyard, but they didn’t pay him any attention.

  He had no idea why his spell had worked this time when he’d had no success before, but he felt a little better about his magical prowess with a wand as he turned to his next assignment.

  Master Asher was true to his word, and when Hayden entered the shop called Pounds of Prisms before lunch the shopkeeper didn’t shoo him away, though he didn’t look pleased to see him either. Of the different supply stores at Mizzenwald, this was by far the smallest. Shelves of prisms lined the walls, glittering like so many diamonds in the deliberately-bright lighting. They were categorized by level, material, and functionality; there were even boxes of prisms that were tinted different colors.

  Colored slivers of light were thrown against the walls, the effect of having so many prisms in a well-lit room, and Hayden stared around in fascination at the patterns of light, surprising himself by identifying a prime trifecta without even thinking about it.

  There was a jeweler’s counter at the opposite end of the room, cluttered with half-cut prisms and bottles of smelly liquid. There were also boxes of parts for repairing the circlets and eyepieces that prism-users wore.

  “So, you’re the Frost boy, are you?” The owner was a man in his forties, a large bald spot on the crown of his head that he tried to conceal by letting the greying hair around it grow longer.

  Hayden tried not to sound resentful when he said, “Yes, I am.”

  “Hmph,” The man narrowed his eyebrows unpleasantly. “I hear you’re eager to follow in his footsteps.”

  No need to ask who “he” was. Hayden clenched his hands into fists at his side.

  “Then you were lied to.”

  The man still looked noticeably unfriendly.

  “Yet here you are, at his old school, looking to buy a prism.”

  Hayden’s fingers were beginning to hurt, but he couldn’t seem to unclench his fists.

  “I’m a Prism major. If you want to tell me how I can manage that without ever using one, I’d love to hear it.”

  “Don’t you sass me, boy!” the man snapped at him. “You’ve clearly inherited your father’s arrogance along with his dark intentions.”

  Hayden was tempted to turn around and walk out, and would have done so if not for the knowledge that he would only have to come back another time to get a prism.

  “I don’t like people being rude to me for no reason,” he answered slowly, suddenly aware that his jaw was clenched and aching.

  “Well then forgive me, Great Prism Master…” the owner gave him a mocking bow. “Asher may think the sun shines out of your arse, but the rest of us aren’t so keen on arming the blood of Aleric Frost.”

  Hayden’s face was burning in anger and embarrassment; he could hear the blood pounding in his ears.

  “Does that mean you are refusing to give me a prism?”

  The man looked like he was swallowing something extremely unpleasant when he sa
id, “No, unfortunately I don’t have the authority to deny you my wares. But that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

  Hayden answered in a voice of forced-calm, “Your displeasure is noted. Now tell me what prisms I am cleared to own.”

  The jeweler pointed at a shelf that came about waist-high against the wall without looking at it.

  “Level-one glass prisms: clear and amber.” He walked away, clearly unable to look at Hayden for a moment longer.

  That was just fine with him. Hayden took a calming breath and tried not to focus on the sound of blood raging between his ears as he approached the fullest boxes on the shelf.

  The boxes were well-labeled and he quickly located the ones he needed. The clear and the amber looked almost identical, and only by holding them side-by-side could he see the slight tint of color to the latter. Using the silk cloths that were provided, he picked a couple up and held them to the light, trying to determine if there was any variation from prism to prism, but they looked identical. He grudgingly admired the jeweler for being able to cut them so precisely.

  When Hayden had one of each tint he brought them to the jeweler’s desk so that he could write a receipt to bill the school, which the man did without speaking or looking at him. As soon as he was finished, Hayden tucked the prisms into the first two vacant slots on his belt and hurried out of the shop.

  His stomach was growling, so he jogged towards the main entrance, more to relieve some of his pent-up frustration than because he wanted to eat. He could still feel his ears burning as he threw his things down beside Zane and began loading up a lunch plate, trying desperately to put the encounter in Pounds of Prisms to the back of his mind.

  Bonk sidled over to him and hopped up on his shoulder, cuffing him affectionately with his wing. Hayden appreciated the gesture.

  “How’s the homework coming along?” Zane, apparently not sensing his sour mood, started in cheerfully.

  “Not bad,” he answered truthfully.

  “Did you ever figure out what Bonk wanted you to do?”

  Hayden speared a cube of beef on his fork and held it up for Bonk to nibble.

  “He wanted to play ‘fetch’ with a red rubber mouse.”

  Zane snorted in amusement, and Hayden began to calm down. It was refreshing to know that there were still some people who enjoyed his company.

  “Oh, hey, you got cleared to buy prisms!” Zane pointed to his belt, grinning. “I’m not even allowed inside the store, but Oliver’s always telling anyone who will listen how awesome it is.” He rolled his eyes. “So, what’s the official verdict?”

  Hayden barely suppressed a grimace when he responded.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome.”

  8

  An Abundance of Calm

  Hayden spent the rest of the weekend relaxing with Zane and Conner, except for during their challenge group meetings. Since Tucker was the only one who had actually been in a challenge arena before, he spent most of their first two meetings telling them about past encounters of his and what sort of things they would be scored on.

  “—and using really impressive magic doesn’t always get you points,” he told them on the night before Gerin. “It’s all about efficiency and conserving the materials you’ve got so you don’t run out. Sometimes they take points away from you if they think you were extravagant with your use of magic.”

  Later that night they were informed that the challenge group schedules had been posted in the main foyer, and Zane and Hayden hurried downstairs in their pajamas to push through the crowd and see when their first arena was.

  “Oh man, we’re up for our first challenge in a week,” Zane said, nervous. Given the number of challenge groups in the school, it was fairly bad luck for them to come up so early in the schedule.

  Hayden felt a flutter of panic in his stomach, because he still hadn’t proven adept at anything except for prisms, and Master Asher’s class focused heavily on theory so he hadn’t actually been trained on using a prism yet.

  When he voiced his worries to Zane, his friend smirked and said, “Don’t worry, I’m ace at Healing.”

  Hayden frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Zane grinned. “If we do too badly, at least I’ll be able to patch us all up afterwards.”

  Hayden was not reassured.

  He was one of the first people to arrive at Wands the next morning, determined to work his hardest so that he had at least some kind of magical capability before he went into his first group challenge.

  Master Willow started class by asking them to take out their birch wands and cups of dirt from last week so they could begin a fresh attempt at growing flowers. Hayden wasn’t the only one who didn’t have his materials—having already used them—though the other three people had simply forgotten to bring theirs.

  The Master of Wands looked mildly reproachful as he passed out more dirt and seeds, though he stopped in front of Hayden’s desk with a curious look on his face.

  “Hold up your wand.”

  Not sure where this was going, Hayden did as he was told. Master Willow narrowed his eyebrows suspiciously.

  “Your wand is the wrong length,” he stated bluntly. “If you had completed the Growing spell successfully it would be half a centimeter shorter, but yours is only a quarter centimeter less than full-length.” He was eyeing Hayden carefully, “Which begs the question of what spell you performed instead.”

  Hayden thought it was incredible that Master Willow could tell that his wand was a quarter centimeter too short just from a casual glance, because he hadn’t noticed the change at all. Nervous at being called out in front of the class, Hayden answered quietly.

  “I was practicing the Growing spell like you asked us to, but it wouldn’t work for me with the pile of dirt I had, so I put the seed in the ground instead.”

  Master Willow’s expression cleared immediately, and he walked back to the front of the room before addressing him again.

  “I see. And did that work for you?”

  “Yes, a daisy grew on my first try after that.” He glanced around at his classmates, most of who looked like they were waiting to hear him get chewed out.

  “And why do you suppose that was?”

  Hayden really had no idea why it had worked better to put the seed in the ground; he hadn’t given it much thought at the time. Now he racked his brains for a likely reason while Willow stared at him.

  “Umm…maybe because the dirt in the ground is better?”

  There were a few chuckles at that. Master Willow just smirked.

  “You could say that, I suppose.” He faced the class. “In actuality, there is nothing special about the dirt in the ground, aside from the fact that it is in the ground. Your previous attempts at the spell were done on a surface where flowers do not naturally grow: the desk, the floor, and so forth.”

  He was pacing the front of the room again. Hayden considered the Master’s words, remembering how much he had struggled when he set his pile of dirt on the pavement in the courtyard for his first attempts.

  “When that didn’t work, you made an intelligent decision and put the seed in a place where it does naturally grow. Effectively, you lessened the skill required to complete the spell, which is why you were successful on your next attempt. Since you were performing less complex magic, the material loss from your wand was reduced as well. Good thinking.”

  Hayden, who was expecting criticism, felt buoyed. True, he hadn’t been consciously trying to make the problem easier when he was practicing, but that didn’t change the fact that he was the only one in his class who even thought to try it.

  “Of course,” Master Willow continued, “that was only a partial fix, as you will need to demonstrate the capability to perform spells with whatever materials I allow you, but not a bad start.”

  With that, he told them all to continue practicing for the next fifteen minutes, while he walked around the room and offered advice to the class. Hayden was di
sappointed after he called for them to stop, because he was still having no luck with his seed now that he was back indoors.

  “Eight of you have managed to perform the spell successfully, about what I would expect at this point.” Master Willow swept back to the front of the room to face them. “The rest of you, continue practicing for homework. For now we will begin learning about the complement to the Growing spell: Shrink.”

  Hayden spent the rest of the period taking notes on the Shrinking spell, which apparently only made things smaller. If he had wanted to return his flower to a seed, he would need the Reversion spell, and Master Willow spent a long time explaining the difference between the two because they could be easy to confuse.

  Hayden was packing his bag to go to Conjury when the Master of Wands called his name.

  “Hayden, stay after for a moment.”

  Wondering what he had done wrong, he waited for the rest of the class to clear out of the room, one or two of them shooting him disdainful looks as they passed. When they were alone, Master Willow leaned against the edge of his desk and studied him thoughtfully.

  “You show a fair amount of skill with wands.”

  Hayden’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, because he felt like a complete novice for failing to successfully complete a single spell thus far.

  “But I couldn’t make the spell work without cheating.”

  Master Willow made a negating gesture with one hand.

  “Creative problem solving is not necessarily tantamount to cheating,” he countered. “In fact, it shows good instinct.”

  “I’m still not powerful enough to do the spell properly,” Hayden mumbled.

  “Intuition is no less important than power, in my experience,” the Master said delicately. “I suspect you are going to be quite adept at using a wand once you get the basics sorted out, though you need to work on your patience. You haven’t even been in class for a week yet, and you’re already growing restless.”