Secrets of Yden (30 page)

****

Early the next morning, the Dragon Clan contingent arrived outside the Executive Council Chamber, where two cygards stood in front of the large double doors. Before they could blink, Jon put both to sleep, not anticipating they would collapse in a noisy clatter of armor.

"Ramp it back, Sparky," Max exclaimed.

Jon winced. "Sorry."
Nothing like making an entrance.

"I suppose the commotion has rather destroyed the element of surprise," Dorsit said.

Quixoran blew the doors open and the Dragon Clan contingent strode into the chamber as if they owned the place. Jon entered last, having lingered a moment in the doorway to undo the suspension of magic spell.
I bet Chairman Lux will lie awake at night, wondering how we managed it.
Nevertheless, Jon hoped none of the Executive Council wizards would notice until it was too late. Otherwise the chamber would explode into a free-for-all.

When he entered the room, Jon was pleased to see the shattered stained glass window had been magically repaired. The only thing he'd regretted about his escape had been destroying it.

Lux was on his feet, sputtering and indignant. "Quixoran, this intrusion is an outrage, particularly since it follows your unwarranted intimidation of Executive Council wizards on official business yesterday. You force me to take steps!"

"I'm forcing more than that, you dried-out old husk of a wizard," Quixoran said. "I'm here to issue a Mortal Challenge to you and the remaining members of the Executive Council."

He removed a heavy scroll from inside the formal robes he'd worn for the occasion and tossed it on the table in front of Lux. The scroll was sealed by a glob of black wax into which the Dragon Clan seal had been pressed, and it landed with a satisfying
thunk
. It was a nice effect on Quixoran's part, in Jon's opinion, and was met with a collective gasp around the chamber.

Lux swelled up, offended. "You've always been fond of drama, but we need not resort to such archaic methods of working out our differences. Withdraw your Challenge and I will schedule a hearing on your grievances three days from now."

"The Challenge has been made and cannot be withdrawn. I require an answer from each and every one of you," Quixoran said.

"You may have my answer." Homa stared directly at Jon. "I accept."

"This is r-ridiculous," Lux stammered, glancing at the other Executive Council wizards for support. Except for Homa and Lux, none seemed to be taking the Challenge seriously. The Scorpion Clan wizard, Resa, was even laughing.

"I refuse to listen to this," Resa scoffed. "Chairman, can you not summon cygards to escort these people out?"

"Refusal of a Mortal Challenge has consequences," Quixoran warned.

Resa pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "Enough of this. Of
course
we refuse, and since we are under a suspension of magic spell here, you can do nothing about it."

"You are sadly mistaken on both counts," Dorsit said.

"The Mortal Challenge is refused," Quixoran said. "Therefore I invoke the ancient magic." He whispered a word Jon couldn't quite catch, but it raised goose bumps on his skin. By Jon's side, Kira shuddered.

Resa suddenly shook his right hand violently, as if he were trying to dislodge a wasp. He was finally forced to remove his clan ring, which was now glowing red-hot. Blisters had formed on his skin from the heat. One-by-one, the same fate befell each Executive Council wizard except for Homa. Lux was last, and when he was forced to take off his clan ring, he hurled it at Quixoran. Jon's father diverted the Spider Clan ring midair, and it flew into the palm of his hand. Jon gasped until he realized the ring's heat seemed to have no effect. When Dorsit collected the remaining clan rings from the table, they were cool to his touch as well.

"We cannot travel or use magic without our clan rings," Lux protested. "You cannot
do
this, Quixoran."

"I didn't do anything, Lux —
you
did," Quixoran replied. "If wizards don't possess honor or integrity, they don't deserve to be wizards. We've turned our backs on the ways of ancient magic for far too long. It's time for a rebirth."

The former Executive Council wizards were stunned.

"The Mortal Challenge has been issued and accepted," Homa said. "As you have brought your contingent, it's now my right to choose an opponent from among them." His eyes riveted on Jon. "I choose Jon Hansen."

This time, the gasps came from the Dragon Clan contingent. Jon didn't think this new development was what Quixoran had planned, but he, for one, was jazzed.

"Done," Jon said before anyone could stop him. "And now I have the right to choose the forum."

Homa's eyes narrowed. "Dragon Isle, I suppose?"

Jon's mouth quirked up at one corner. "Pytch."

****

Quixoran, Dorsit, and Dr. Hansen stayed behind to arrange transport tokens for the stranded wizards. As soon as the remaining Dragon Clan contingent materialized underneath the tree house, Kira slugged Jon, hitting him so hard he fell sideways across one of the heavy wooden dining tables.

"Why couldn't you let Quixoran handle things?" she yelled. "Why can't I have a boyfriend who doesn't wish to die?"

Trembling with fury, Kira stomped off. As Jon rubbed his jaw, he glanced at Max and Lady Marla. "What's her problem? Homa's just an old wizard. I can take him, easy."

Lady Marla shook her head and sighed. "While it's true Quixoran was Extreme Wizardry Competition Champion, six turns straight, Homa was a five-time Champion. And if Homa does not kill you, young wizard, Pytch will."

Blazes.

Lady Marla dissolved into mist as she headed to her home on the far side of the island, leaving Max and Jon alone. "I'm
so
glad I'm not you," Max said.

"After my battle with Efysian, I was looking forward to the rest of my life again," Jon said, aghast. "Maybe my optimism was premature."

****

Kira was sitting on Quixoran's stone dragon sculpture, using the dragon's long neck as a backrest. As Jon drew closer, he noticed her eyes were red from crying. He made sure she wasn't going to hit him again before he put his arms around her.

"Don't be mad," Jon said. "You want me to draw you a picture to cheer you up?"

She managed a feeble smile. "The portal was closed. Efysian is gone forever. You and I are together at last. Instead of enjoying this time, you must hurtle into danger once more. What's wrong with you?"

He wiped her tears away and kissed her on the forehead. "I don't know, but I'm sure you'll tell me. After this is over, I'll try to stay out of trouble for a while, I swear."

"Don't say that. We both know it isn't true. I am now slapping myself for overlooking your last lie."

"I've never lied to you!"

"Davy Thyssen," she retorted.

"I wasn't trying to deceive you, exactly. I just didn't want you to fall for me out of gratitude."

"I knew it! So you
admit
you healed Davy. Now we're getting somewhere. You must promise always to be honest with me from now on."

Jon took her hand. "I promise, Kira Szul, never to lie to you… for the rest of my life. If you'll let me hang around that long."

Kira searched his face before resting her head against his shoulder. "Let's hope your life extends beyond the duel."

Jon sighed. "I can't believe you said that."

****

When Dr. Hansen, Dorsit, and Quixoran returned to Dragon Isle, Jon could tell none of them were happy, but they didn't say anything to him at all. Their cool attitude had him so wound up, however, he had a hard time choking down his lunch. Afterward, his father broke the silence.

"You and I are going to Dragonhenge to spar, Jon."

Over the summer most of the apprentices had sparred with Dr. Hansen — known to them as Dr. Greg — and Jon received more than one glance of sympathy. He accompanied his father to Dragonhenge, the atmosphere between them heavy with tension. When they reached the center of the outdoor classroom, Jon became confrontational.

"Okay, you want to take a swing at me, or what?"

Dr. Hansen tapped his jaw at the same place where Jon was sporting a fresh bruise, courtesy of Kira. "Looks like someone already beat me to it."

"Sort of."

"Your grandfather, Dorsit, and I discussed the matter and we realize being angry with you at this point isn't going to solve anything. The best we can do is to get you ready for the match."

"What was I supposed to do, Dad, weasel out of the fight?"

"You were played. Homa claimed he had the right to choose his opponent, but that wasn't true."

"It wasn't?"

"Having issued the Mortal Challenge, Quixoran had the right to battle. Homa knew Quixoran would have beaten him easily, so he called you out. He guessed correctly your cocky arrogance would rise to the surface. You were under no obligation to accept. Having done so, however, the match cannot now be avoided by either one of you."

"I-If I hadn't accepted, I would have looked spineless."

"Frankly, you didn't give a flip about looking spineless. You took on this challenge because you wanted to." Despite his stated resolve not to be angry with Jon, his father looked like he was close to boiling over.

Suddenly, Jon was, too. "Yes, sir, I
did
."

His feet left the ground as an unseen force slammed him into the grass. Winded, Jon rolled over onto all fours, struggling to breathe. His father had somehow managed to school him without moving an inch.

"Get up." His father's voice sounded foreign — icy and pitiless. "You don't think Homa is capable of that and worse? We've got two weeks to teach you how to survive this duel, and there's something else you should know about Homa. He cheats."

That's just great.