The Other Prism (The Broken Prism) (10 page)

“That’s right,” someone else interjected. “I overheard a couple of seventh-years saying that the other Masters are all terrified that Frost and Asher are going to team up and take over where the Dark Prism left off
, and in a few years the world will be back in the same hole it was when he was powerful.”

Hayden was frozen in place
just beyond the line of sight from the opening to the common area. His face felt strangely bloodless as he listened to the things his peers were saying about him, wondering if they were true. He had always known that Sark hated him, but he thought the others were alright…

“—don’t really think Master Asher would do anything like that,” the girl was arguing softly. “He seems like a nice person…”

“A
nice
person
?” the first voice answered, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? Everyone knows he’s the next-worst thing to the Dark Prism himself! You know that’s the only reason they hired him here, to keep an eye on him…”

Hayden couldn’t take it anymore. He took a step back
wards and stormed into the common area, forgetting about Bonk completely until he felt the dragon squeeze his hair tighter to maintain balance. His appearance was met by four identical looks of fear, and Hayden now recognized the ones who were talking about him—he had classes with most of them.

“
Why don’t you keep your stupid mouths shut about things you don’t understand?” Hayden snapped in greeting, his face burning with anger. “Don’t you people have anything better to talk about than whether or not I’m evil? Get a life!”

A blond-ha
ired boy named Ian answered him. “It’s a free land—we can talk about whatever we want. Don’t
you
have anything better to do than eavesdrop?”

Hayden balled his hands into fists, keeping them resolutely at his side to avoid the temptation of using them. Bonk cuffed him purposefully with one wing but Hayden ignored him.

“If I ever hear you talking badly about Master Asher again, so help me…”

He was so angry that he didn’t know how to finis
h his own sentence. Fortunately he looked menacing enough that he didn’t need to, because the others flinched slightly and leaned further away from him. Without another word, Hayden turned around and stormed out of the common area, knocking over a tray of cookies from the snack table as he went and not bothering to stop and clean up.

There was
an unpleasant ringing in his ears as he stomped down the stairs, avoiding everyone else’s eyes and their questions about what was wrong. It was hard to believe that he had been in a good mood only a few minutes ago.

It took a monumental effort to control his anger enough to go outside and look for a clear sp
ace of grass to play ‘fetch’ with Bonk on.

5

Winning and Losing

Hayden’s bad mood persisted well into
the evening, and he spent most of the day alone on the grounds with Bonk to avoid inflicting his anger on his friends. The only place he could find that was free of others was near the cliffs that overlooked the Gawain Sea, beside the circle of lights that they used to enter arena challenges.

Overall he thought he was to be commended on his choice of location. The cliffs added some interest to his games with Bonk, and Hayden vented his frustrations for a long while by throwing the fake weasel as hard as he could over the edge and watching his familiar soar after it
, because for some reason ‘fetch’ was the preferred game of magically-inclined dragons (Torin had told him so last year).

At one point
Hayden threw the toy over the cliff and was surprised when it was Cinder who returned it to him instead of Bonk. He looked all around but didn’t see Master Asher anywhere nearby, though that wasn’t entirely surprising since the purple dragon frequently flew off on his own. Cinder was definitely the most reclusive familiar that Hayden had ever met, which was perhaps why he was pleased to see him right now, as Hayden was feeling a bit reclusive himself.

“You want to play too?” Hayden asked the
dragonling, who picked up the weasel and deposited it at Hayden’s feet in response. Cinder was the only dragon Hayden had ever seen who could look dignified even with a rubber weasel in his mouth.

Hayden picked
up the toy and launched it over the edge of the rocks, admiring the gracefulness of Cinder’s movements as the dragon entered a perfectly-controlled dive, wings tucked neatly behind his back to streamline him. Bonk had apparently had enough playing for now, because he waddled over to where Hayden was sitting and perched in the grass beside him, cleaning his wings with his tongue.

Hayden threw the weasel for Cinder until his arm began to ache, and then both dragons joined him in the grass, sitting so that the three of them formed a triangle. The dragons were watching him like they expected him to say something, and Hayden eventually felt compelled to break the silence.

“Thanks for sitting out here with me for so long; sorry my arm got tired from throwing.”

Neither dragon responded—not that he had really expected them to.

“I wish people would stop talking bad about me every time I blow my nose,” he continued, scowling. “Those idiots were just making up rumors back there because they have nothing better to do, saying I’m going to turn out like
him
.”

Bonk sidled over to him and hopped onto his lap, curling up so that his warm belly was heating Hayden’s legs. Hayden patted his head absent-mindedly.

“I’m not stupid enough to go using broken prisms, so there’s no way I would ever turn out like my dad,” he continued, because voicing his frustrations out loud made him feel better. “Do you really think the other Masters don’t like teaching me?”

Bonk let out what was unmistakably a snort of d
erision, which cheered Hayden slightly. Cinder was still watching him attentively, as though he was soaking in every word that Hayden spoke. It was a little unnerving.

“You’re right, Bonk. It’s stupid to think that the others are afraid of me. Almost as stupid as what they said about Asher
being nearly as bad as the Dark Prism.” He fumed again at the very thought of it, because the Prism Master had been Hayden’s mentor for over a year now, and he didn’t like people making up horrible lies about him.

Cinder flapped his wings gently to get airborne and settled on Hayden’s shoulder. Once again, Hayden was beginning to feel crowded by miniature dragons, and his rumbling stomach cued him to go back inside.

“Come on, the sun’s already starting to go down. It must be time for dinner.” He gently nudged Bonk off of his lap, and his familiar took flight and perched on top of his head, making him feel oddly lopsided with the weight of Cinder on his left shoulder.

All I need is for
Slasher to show up, and I’ll have every dragon at Mizzenwald on me at one time.

Chuckling at the thought, he made his way back towards the rear entrance of the castle in the fading sunlight, walking around the smooth expanse of black stone that he had Conjury classes on. He passed a few people in the halls who gave him strange looks—probably because of the abundance of magical creatures on him—
and ignored the attention as he wound his way towards the pentagonal foyer that led to the dining hall.

Remembering that the final scores were supposed to be posted by now, he detoured to the eastern wall to check the rosters.

Prisms

Speed
             
   
Endurance
               
Efficiency
   
Will
     
Total

Hayden Frost
              9                   11                                 8                        9              37

Oliver Trout
                            6                    7                                 7                        8              28

Kevin
Serilla                            5                    6                                 4                        5              20

Andric Scott
                            5                    5                                 5                        4              19

C
indy Olterra           4                    5                                 7                        6              22

Hayden stared at the numbers for almost a full minute, attempting to sort out his mixed feelings. He had clearly won the tryouts, which meant that he would be
representing Mizzenwald as the school’s prism-user. This was good news, but it also forced him to acknowledge that he was about to be thrust into a series of challenges in front of complete strangers, against prism-users that were years older than him and had much more experience. Unless he was the only natural prism in the entire competition, he might end up returning to Mizzenwald in last place, and would never hear the end of it from the other students who thought he was an attention-seeking showoff.

Hayden continued
to the dining hall, looking around for his friends. Cinder caught sight of Master Asher and took flight, abandoning Hayden at the door. Bonk hopped from Hayden’s head onto his newly-vacant shoulder, and Hayden attempted to flatten his tousled hair as he spotted his friends at a table in the corner.

He was a little surpris
ed to see Tess sitting with the others—she didn’t eat meals with them last year—and he sat down directly beside her. Bonk hopped off of his shoulder and immediately began eating Hayden’s food.

“Hey, we were wondering where you
ran off to after the tryouts,” Tamon greeted him, holding up a chicken leg for Conner’s owl to nibble on.

“
I was playing ‘fetch’ with Bonk and Cinder and lost track of time,” Hayden answered, shuffling Bonk out of the way so he could get some chicken.

“Well y
ou should have come back sooner—maybe
you
could have talked some sanity into the Masters before they screwed up our challenge group this year,” Zane grumbled somberly.

“What are you talking about?”

Conner looked surprised that he didn’t already know. “What, did you forget that today was the last day to register challenge group teams?”

Hayden’s mouth fell open. He had completely forgotten about the pre-registra
tion process for challenge arenas in the excitement over preparing for his prism tryouts.

“Please tell me one of you put our names down before this
morning…” he looked frantically from Tess to Zane. The former answered.

“Yes, I did, but I didn’t know who our fourth was going to be so we had to go down to the lawns after all the tryouts were finished to get another person,” she explained quietly. “Since you’re our leader and you didn’t show up, the Masters decided to get…creative…
.”

“
Creative?
” Zane interjected. “Evil, is more like it.” He scowled. “You’ll never guess who they gave us for a fourth—and laughed about it as they were doing it.”

Hayden shook his head.

“Who? Kayce?”

“I wish,” Zane snorted. “They paired us with Lorn Trout.”

It took an unusually long time for those words to register in Hayden’s brain. In fact, his initial response was to search his mind for a second Lorn Trout who was currently attending Mizzenwald, since he couldn’t even conceive of being paired with the first.

“Are you joking?” Hayden said at last. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No joke.” Zane stabbed moodily at a potato. “We’re supposed to manage all our arena challenges this year with that useless lump alongside us. There goes our reigning championship on top of the rankings.”

“They did this to us just because I forgot to show up for the selection this morning?” Hayden fumed, glaring around the hall at the Masters, none of whom were looking at him right now.

“Well, that’s not what they said, but I think some of the other Masters are eager to knock you down a few rungs, especially after you killed everyone else in the Prism tryouts.”

Hayden frowned, forcibly reminded of the people he overheard earlier in the third-year common area. Maybe the Masters really
did
think he was a freak…

He stood up as soon as he saw Master
Asher leave the dining hall, metallic red robes billowing behind him as he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, Cinder and Horace flying above him. Hayden was only halfway through his first plate of food, but he was too desperate for answers to focus on eating right now.

“Hayden, where are you—”

“I’ll see you later,” he interrupted Conner, leaving his friends without another word and taking long strides to catch up to the Prism Master.

Asher was at the other end of the corridor by the time he got out of the dining hall, turning out of sight in the pentagonal foyer. Hayden broke into a run to close the distance between them, racing around the
corner just in time to see Master Asher enter a room down the hallway from where he had Prisms lessons.

Hayden slowed to a walk and followed, stopping in front of the unfamiliar door and knocking loudly. Asher answered the door wearing black pants and a
grey shirt, having already discarded his Masters robes for the day. He looked surprised to see Hayden on the other side of the doorway, his blue eyes widening slightly as they took in the sight of him.

“Hayden, what brings you to see me
at this time of night?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Master Asher narrowed his eyebrows in interest and opened the door wider, motioning Hayden inside. Hayden, who had been expecting a classroom, was startled at having walked directly into a living room.

A few mismatched armchairs and a couch were clustered together around an oak coffee table, and a potted plant that had long since died stood in the corner. There was a dining table on the opposite end of the room, though it looked like it had never been used for its intended purpose; it was presently covered in sheets of paper that were inked with complicated diagrams of light arrays and notes on prisms. There were other doors leading off down a narrow hallway, presumably to the bathroom and Master Asher’s bedroom.

“I—didn’t know you lived here,” Hayden said dumbly, standing awkwardly near the door.

“What, you thought I slept outside?” The Prism Master gave him a strange look and then motioned for him to sit down in one of the armchairs.

“No, I just…never thought about where the Masters actually stayed before,” he admitted, taking a seat and glancing at a bookshelf that was overflowing with books, trying to read the titles on the spines. He didn’t recognize any of them.

“Well, now you know.
” Master Asher shrugged and took a seat in the armchair opposite him. “I don’t expect that’s why you came to see me tonight?”

“No, sir.”
Hayden shook himself mentally and focused.

“I suppose I should congratulate you on becoming the official Prism of Team Mizzenwald this year,” Asher leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I assume you saw the scores in the Pentagon?”

“Yeah, just before dinner,” Hayden said.

“You don’t seem excited.”

“I am…” Hayden hesitated. “But I’m also nervous about what I’m going to have to do now. I still haven’t had much training with actual prisms yet; your class is mostly theory.”

Asher smirked. “It’s highly theoretical for good reason, though of course I’ll be spending some time with you one-on-one to help you prepare for your upcoming challe
nges.”