Cave of Nightmares (15 page)

My team,
he amended, remembering that he was supposed to be the leader.

In the end they agreed to Tucker’s proposed schedule, and as soon as they finished eating, he and
Zane made their way back upstairs to get a start on their homework.

The Masters had given them plenty to work on
this weekend, and Hayden sat down at his desk and decided to start with Prisms. He tossed a spare piece of toast onto his bed and heard the telltale signs of Bonk munching on it as he set to work.

Asher had assigned them a chapter on the light array for slowing something down, as well as a drawing. Hayden found the wording difficult to understand, and wondered if the author had been paid by the syllable.

“—can be utilized in a multitude of applications, though it is most efficacious when imposed upon an animate species or classification…”

He read the sentence three times before he could puzzle out its meaning.

Why couldn’t the author just say, “It works best on things that are alive?”

It took him the better part of an hour to get through the reading assignment, and then he was supposed to copy the pattern of light for Slow onto a sheet of paper and begin labeling the major alignments.

He got out his colored pencils and copied the book’s picture of the Slow array without too much difficulty, but then he had to read the chapter on major and minor alignments to figure out what he was supposed to be labeling. Apparently there were different combinations of light arrays that recurred across similar types of spells, and there was an entire science behind mapping the alignments and using them to discover new magical combinations.

At first it made his head spin just thinking abo
ut it, but after another half hour he began to make sense of it, and carefully picked out the groupings of color that formed the prime trifecta: a trio of red, blue, and yellow bands of the same thickness that abutted each other.

Consulting his book, he
was able to identify a minor alignment as well, and labeled it in pencil, leaning back to examine his finished product.

Bonk hopped down from the bed and landed on Hayden’s shoulder, head-butting him in the side of the face until he
put his Prisms homework away and acknowledged him.

“What do you want?” H
ayden asked, annoyed.

Zane
looked up from his desk and raised an eyebrow.

“He probably wants you to play with him.”

Hayden scowled.

“I’ve got lots of work to do, Bonk. We’ll go outside later.”

Bonk was apparently not moved by his plight, because he continued to nudge him with his head to get his attention. When that didn’t work he took to shrieking piteously until Hayden slammed his hands on the desk and stood up.

“FINE.”
He moved so quickly that he nearly dislodged Bonk from his shoulder. “I’ll take you outside, so stop screaming like you’re being murdered.”

Zane
chuckled sympathetically.

“I’ll be out with Fel
ix later if you’re still there. We usually run the obstacle course on the weekend to make sure he stays in shape.”

Hayden grabbed his book bag and brought it with him, hoping he’d have time to work on his assignment for
Wands while Bonk did whatever the little dragon wanted to do.

He was thankful for the climate control when he remembered that it was actually the middle of winter, walking past the main courtyard and towards the obstacle courses, most of which already had familiars navigating them.

“Alright, Bonk. Hop down and—um…go through that tube.” He motioned towards a large tube made of plastic that Hayden himself could have climbed through if he’d wanted to.

Bonk
gave him a decidedly haughty look and remained on his arm.

“Oh no you don’t,”
Hayden narrowed his eyebrows at him. “You dragged me out here to play, now you go and play.”

Bonk still didn’t move, even when Hayden tried to grab him around the middle and remove him from his shoulder.

The dragon eventually started shrieking again, and Hayden hastily stopped trying to dislodge him before people began staring.

“What do you want from me?” h
e snapped, irritated.

I’ll bet
Slasher doesn’t give Oliver this much trouble.

In response, Bonk took flight and soared gracefully over to a red rubber mouse
that was lying in the grass, picking it up with his teeth and returning it to Hayden.

“
Uhh…” Hayden held out his hand for it, not sure what to do with it now. Bonk was looking expectant.

On a whim, Hayden drew back and lobbed it away from him, and Bonk immediately took flight and went to pursue it.

Finally understanding the game, he set his bag down in the grass and waited for the dragon to return with the mouse, which he threw again, even farther away this time.

It went on like that until his arm hurt, about fifteen minutes later.
He had tried throwing the rubber toy in all directions to challenge his familiar, and had nearly hit Lorn Trout in the head with it by sheer coincidence. After nearly being mistaken for a chew-toy by Bonk, Lorn had shouted a stream of obscenities at him before taking his familiar—a mink—to a different obstacle course.

Hayden drew back for one last toss and hurled the mouse towards the mai
n courtyard. Bonk flew after it as usual, but upon reclaiming it he turned away from Hayden and disappeared around the eastern wall of the castle.

“Hey, come back!” Hayden grabbed his bag and hurried after him, his books banging uncomfortably against his legs as he ran
, dodging groups of students in his way and ignoring the looks he received. He was winded by the time he rounded the side of the castle and saw Bonk collide with a dark purple dragon in mid-air. The pair of them went down together, flapping their wings at each other and shooting little jets of fire from their mouths.

“Bonk!” Hayden sprinted towards where they’d fallen. The owner of the other dragon was sitting in the grass with
a friend, and as Hayden tossed his bag to the ground and tried to approach the wrestling dragons to pull them apart, he heard a familiar voice say, “Let them be, they’re just playing.”

Hayden turned his attention to the two men sitting in the grass and was stunned to see that they were Torin and Asher. He hadn’t recognized the
Prism Master without his bright red robes. Hayden didn’t imagine him owning any normal clothing until now.

“Master Asher,” he tried to recove
r 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 awkw
ard 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 ru
bber 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 i
f 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, “G
row.”

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 se
ed 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 calle
d 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.