The Schism (The Broken Prism Book 4) (22 page)

Hayden reviewed his notes for Abnormal Magic during breakfast the following morning, because Master Laurren had joked about springing a test on them as soon as they came back from summer holiday. Hayden knew the Master well enough by now to suspect that he probably wasn’t joking, so it seemed prudent to review his notes during breakfast just in case he was right.

He was on his way to the basement where Abnormal Magic was held when Oliver Trout stopped him in the Pentagon.

“Hey, Frost,” he grabbed Hayden’s arm roughly, pulling him out of the main flow of traffic as students hurried off to their first period class.

“Ow—let go of me,” Hayden jerked his arm back, preparing for a confrontation.

“I’m in a hurry so I’ll make this quick,” Oliver ignored his pique. “Don’t show up to lunch today,” he said bluntly, glancing at his chrono.

“What?” Hayden asked, taken aback by the random request. “Why not?”

“I have to go,” Oliver took a step away without answering, and this time Hayden was the one grabbing his arm to stop him.

“You can’t just tell me something random and not explain yourself,” he insisted angrily. “How am I supposed to make it to dinner without eating all day? All I had for breakfast was toast.”

“Not my problem,” Oliver shrugged him off. “Do whatever you want.” And with that he walked away.

Hayden looked at his chrono and saw that he was almost late for class. Cursing under his breath, he hurried through the stream of other stragglers who were trying to make it to their lessons on time, taking the stairs down to the basement three at a time and barely making it to his seat before Master Laurren began speaking.

“Welcome back, everyone, and I hope you enjoyed your break,” he greeted them pleasantly, holding up a large stack of papers in one hand. “To celebrate your return, I thought we’d start with a test to see how much knowledge you managed to forget during the last few weeks.”

There were surprised, angry mutters all through the class, but Hayden just smiled grimly, thankful for his earlier foresight. As the Master passed out their tests, Hayden mulled over his conversation with Oliver.

Why in the world does he want me to skip lunch today?

Maybe there was something really tasty on the menu, and Oliver simply wanted to deny him the pleasure of eating it? No, that didn’t seem terribly likely, or he surely would have tried it before now. As much as he still disliked the elder Trout, Hayden had thought they were beginning to develop some sort of mutual respect for each other recently, especially since living under the same roof all winter. Heck, he had toured Oliver through his estate just a week ago, and they’d been perfectly civil to each other.

He didn’t have much more time to ruminate on the older boy’s motives when Laurren handed him a packet of papers with six essay questions to answer by the end of the class period. Grimacing at how sore his hand was soon going to be, Hayden pushed all other thoughts from his head and got to work.

He thought he did alright on the test—at least he was able to answer all the questions to some extent, unlike Harrison, who panicked halfway through, burst into tears, and ran from the room screaming.

“There’s one every year,” was all Master Laurren had said in response to the outburst, without even looking up from the book he was reading.

Unfortunately, Hayden didn’t do nearly as well in Elixirs, which was so difficult this year that he suspected he was going to have to repeat the level-four class next year if he decided to stick with it. Master Kilgore confirmed his suspicions when he held up the phial of Hayden’s Elixir of Warding at the end of class and said, “This looks like urine.”

Not sure what to say, Hayden answered, “Well, it isn’t, sir.”

Kilgore snorted and set the phial on his desk. “Might as well be—I doubt this is any more useful.”

“Feel free not to tell me my grade on this assignment for a few days,” Hayden volunteered dryly, “I’d like to stay in a good mood for as long as I can this week.”

The Master of Elixirs chuckled and said, “I’ll miss having you in my class next year, Frost. You’re a pleasure to teach, even if you accidentally made distilled urine instead of an Elixir of Warding.”

Frowning, Hayden said, “You’re kicking me out next year?”

The Master looked surprised at being asked.

“I can’t kick you out unless I can prove it’s dangerous to leave you in my class. I just assumed you would drop Elixirs at the end of the year, seeing as you likely won’t be able to progress further in it, and focus on your other strengths.”

Hayden tilted his head thoughtfully and said, “I could use a free period next year—what with all my homework, mastery assignments, research, and running my estate, I barely have time to sleep as is.”

“The price of excellence,” Kilgore nodded solemnly. “We Masters typically get one night off a month, and recently not even that.” He sighed. “Run along to your next class so I can dump this mess down the drain when you’re gone.” He gestured to Hayden’s elixir.

Hayden grimaced and excused himself, hurrying off to his level-five Healing class, where he was confident he would have a much easier time.

At least I’m pretty sure I won’t accidentally make urine in this lesson.

While Mistress Razelle didn’t recommend that he drop her class, it was not one of Hayden’s better days in Healing. By the time the lesson was over, he was grumpy and ravenously hungry. He had forgotten Oliver’s warning entirely until he entered the dining hall and sat down to eat with his usual group of friends. Only then did he remember the older boy’s strange request that morning, and he glanced around the room until he caught sight of him. Oliver met his gaze and shrugged as though to say,
It’s not my problem
, his face inscrutable.

“What’s up?” Zane asked, following Hayden’s line of sight until Oliver turned back to his friends and resumed eating.

“I’m not sure,” Hayden admitted. “Oliver told me not to come to lunch today, but he wouldn’t say why.” He glanced around the room, but everything seemed normal. Even the food was unexceptional today. “I guess he was just playing a prank on me or something.” He shrugged and began eating.

“You think he’d be over that by now, especially since you two fought in a war together.” Zane rolled his eyes.

“Well, apparently he isn’t.” Hayden waved a dismissive hand, changing the subject by telling them about how he probably wouldn’t be continuing in Elixirs next year after the fiasco with his Elixir of Warding this morning.

The others laughed and offered condolences at the same time, and Hayden was rather enjoying himself until Master Willow called for everyone’s attention from the front of the room.

Surprised by the interruption, Hayden and everyone else fell silent and turned to the Master of Wands, who was looking unusually grim for some reason. When the room was quiet, he addressed them collectively.

“We have some unexpected guests who will be joining us for the remainder of lunch today,” he explained tonelessly, gesturing towards the door. As if on cue, a large group of people filed into the room and walked down the center aisle to join Master Willow at the back of the hall on the slightly raised platform. Master Graus moved among them, throwing down several hastily-drawn scriptures, which transformed into long wooden tables and chairs for each of the newcomers to sit at.

Hayden’s stomach felt like it was full of lead as he watched the visitors enter the room. There was the High Mayor of Junir and Fia Valay, a family that Hayden had never seen before—at least, he assumed the woman and man were married and that the nine-year old girl was their daughter—following behind, two men carrying enough knives and swords to raid a small village, and every single member of the Council of Mages.

He met Oliver’s gaze again, though the older boy still looked neutral.

Uh oh, this can’t be good…

12

The Opalline Medallion

The Council members were wearing their formal robes, and their presence caused quite a stir amongst the student population, most of whom had never seen its members in person before.

“What the heck is going on?” Tamon asked quietly under the low-level sounds of other students whispering excitedly about this turn of events.

“No idea,” Hayden answered truthfully, watching the strange group closely as they settled themselves on the raised platform at the back of the hall. He looked to the other Masters, most of whom seemed as surprised by this visit as everyone else, though few of them looked pleased by it.

The Chief Mage, Calahan, said something to Master Graus, who was still attempting to produce furniture to accommodate the new group, and the Master drew another scripture and created a podium for Calahan to stand behind before moving out of the way to lean against the wall and watch.

“Hello, students and faculty of Mizzenwald,” the Chief Mage addressed them, looking around the room with a warm smile. “I’m sorry for this sudden interruption in your normal schedule, but it’s been a very busy year for my colleagues and I, and we’ve been running behind on some of the more rewarding aspects of our jobs. Today I hope to rectify this lapse, and I ask all of you to join us in formally recognizing a very talented mage who sits among you.” He paused only for a moment before adding, “Hayden Frost, would you come up here please?”

All heads turned in his direction, but Hayden felt like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. If he had eaten more food, he would have probably vomited from the sudden force of it. For a moment he sat there in stunned silence, trying to puzzle out the meaning of this.

“It’s alright, Hayden, come on up here…” Calahan reassured him gently, giving him a fond smile that Hayden had never seen on the man’s face before.

Swallowing a lump of unease, Hayden got to his feet and walked slowly to the join him on the platform, not knowing what else to do. His body felt strangely numb as he moved, like he was disconnected from his limbs and they were simply acting on their own accord. He kept his expression neutral, not wanting to react visibly until he understood what was happening and why.

When he made the step up onto the elevated platform and turned to face the room, he felt his face reddening at all of the eyes that were focused on him. Still silently trying to figure out what was going on, he looked to Masters Asher and Laurren, who were standing beside each other against one wall; both of them were frowning.

Calahan spoke again.

“We’re here today to recognize your excellent work and heroism, Hayden—to honor you for all you have done for Junir and the rest of the Nine Lands—” Calahan told him, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“I already got a Medal of Heroism,” Hayden interrupted, growing more and more uneasy by the minute.

This is all wrong….Why is he smiling like he’s happy to see me? Calahan hates me…

“Yes, but that came from the High Mayor,” Calahan explained patiently. “The Council has its own symbol of recognition.” He and most of the other Council members were still smiling, though Hayden noticed that Magdalene Trout was wearing the same neutral expression as her oldest son.

Oliver knew this was coming. His mother must have warned him, and he was trying to do me a favor by keeping me away from this…

Before he could even figure out how he felt about that, Calahan continued.

“So young, and yet you’ve already accomplished more than most mages manage in their entire lives. You slew a fully-grown dragon at the age of twelve and saved the town of Calypso from losing any more of its citizens.”

“Bonk and Zane—” Hayden tried to interject, but Calahan spoke over him.

“You won the Golden Prism at the age of thirteen in the Inter-School Championship—against other natural prism-users with vastly more experience with their craft. You’ve slain a number of monsters since then to defend the people of Junir, without asking for any form of compensation or recognition. You single-handedly turned the war in our favor just last year, saving countless lives and preventing a full-scale invasion of the Nine Lands.”

He was listing everything Hayden had ever done that could be even remotely construed as noble, and for some reason it terrified him more than if Calahan had been shouting threats at him. The family Hayden had never seen before looked more and more awed by him with every word, and the little girl was almost crying with joy.

Who
are
those people?

Conversely, the Masters were looking progressively more grim as Calahan continued his speech. Kilgore was scowling openly, Willow and Reede looked completely expressionless, and Asher could have been carved from marble he was standing so still.

“Now you help guard the entrance to one of the largest schisms on the continent, and while under attack by a seven-headed hydra, you managed to rescue your teammate while slaying the monster—”

“Master Graus—” Hayden tried to interrupt again, and once again he was ignored.

Of course, we have always known you would be great—your illustrious bloodlines demand it,” Calahan acknowledged, still smiling at Hayden like he had never been prouder of anything in his entire life.

Hayden was terrified.

“The Frost family has traditionally produced outstanding mages, and you—the last scion of one of our oldest Great Houses—are clearly continuing that trend.”

This is the man who has hated and feared me for being related to Aleric Frost for the last five years…and now he’s proud of my bloodlines?

Something was definitely wrong, but still he had no idea what was happening or what he could possibly do to stop it, so Hayden continued to stand there like a wax statue and watch things unfold.

“And now, even with three-inch Focus-correctors on each arm, you are widely known to have one of the most powerful Sources we have seen in this generation. For all of this, it is my very great pleasure to present you with the first Opalline Medallion to be awarded in thirty years.”

He withdrew a long golden chain from his robes amidst gasps from the crowd. At the end of the thick, heavy-looking necklace was a polished opal the size of Hayden’s fist, set on a gold backing with thin bands of wire that held the opal in place. Master Laurren exchanged a glance with Master Willow during the sudden outburst of noise, though Hayden couldn’t read anything from their expressions except that they were quite unhappy with whatever was happening.

Hayden was stricken with the sudden, overwhelming knowledge that he didn’t want this rare honor, and that if he let them put the stupid thing around his neck, something bad was going to happen.

Panicking, he blurted out, “Please, sir—I really don’t deserve this kind of recognition,” as the room fell silent again. “I had help on most of the things you’re rewarding me for, so really
those
people are the ones who—”

“So humble and modest,” Calahan cut him off, resting a hand on his shoulder that squeezed him a little too tightly, as though to say,
Stop ruining my evil plans!
“But there is no question of you deserving the Opalline Medallion—it was a unanimous decision amongst the Council, seconded by the High Mayor himself.”

Hayden looked briefly at the High Mayor, who inclined his head slightly when mentioned, but otherwise remained neutral.

Unable to think of a good way to stop it—short of running from the room screaming like a lunatic—Hayden was forced to stand there and let Calahan drape the chain around his neck, feeling the enormous opal rest against his chest. He was right—it was heavy.

“You have always acted for the good of mage-kind, Hayden, even when we have had our personal disagreements,” Calahan said it like they were old friends who occasionally argued over minutia. “For that you have my everlasting respect and admiration. And now, I hope you will help us once again.”

Finally understanding, Hayden’s heart began racing in his chest as he thought,
No!

He should have run out of the room screaming like a lunatic when he had the chance—maybe that would spoil the whole ‘hero’ thing and prevent Calahan from continuing.

“The last team we sent into the schism to seal it was led by a brave young lady named Delauria Hersh. It grieves me to say that Delauria and her escorts have not been seen since, though her family and we Council members continue to hold onto the hope that she is still alive somewhere inside the other realm.”

Oh no…please tell me that family behind us isn’t—

“We’ve found two more brave non-magic users who are willing to enter the schism and do their duty to Junir by guarding the mage who will seal the aperture and save us from what is on the other side. All we need is a leader, a mage with incredible power and bravery, who is willing to venture into the aperture and do what no one else has been able to—and to recover DeLauria and her team if at all possible.”

They had set him up, outmaneuvered him so that there was no possible way for him to turn them down without looking like a selfish jerk in front of everyone he knew: the entire student body of Mizzenwald, the Masters he respected, the High Mayor himself and the Council of Mages, and poor Delauria’s family. And still, Hayden would have turned him down flat and shamed himself publicly if the nine-year old girl hadn’t taken that moment to stand up and say, “Please, sir—will you please save my sister?”

Master Asher closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, the first sign of movement Hayden had seen from his mentor during this entire spectacle. When he opened his eyes and met Hayden’s gaze, it was with the look of a man who was preparing to say goodbye.

He knows I can’t say no, that they’ve finally cornered me, and that I’m probably going to die in that schism.

Tess had her hands over her mouth and tears in her eyes, and Zane looked oddly colorless. They knew what he was going to do, and that they would probably never see him again.

Swallowing a lump of emotion, Hayden kept his expression calm and composed when he said, “I’ll do my best.”

The little girl ran up and hugged him as the room burst into applause. Most of the school clearly believed he was larger than life and could find a way through any challenge that came his way.

I’m being sent to my death, and they’re all clapping…

Not everyone was applauding, of course. Tess, Zane, Tamon, and Conner looked miserable. Oliver and Lorn Trout also refrained from cheering—for whatever reason, and most of the Masters looked like they were contemplating murder.

“Excellent!” Calahan exclaimed, obviously relieved. “I knew we could count on you once again, Hayden. You and your team will leave tonight, after we hold a magnificent feast to send you off properly.”

Hayden couldn’t help but take an ominous view of the words ‘send you off’. It sounded very final to him.

I could very well die tonight.

He’d had the thought a few times before, but the only time he had really and truly believed it was likely was right before he and Oliver entered the Forest of Illusions last year to join the war. Even then, he had Oliver to help him, as well as Bonk and Slasher, and the entirety of his magical prowess at his disposal. Now he would be venturing into a place full of monsters, where no one could help him except for two strangers wielding knives; he didn’t even know if they were any good at using them. Not to mention that he wouldn’t be able to use a drop of magic except for the Closing spell—if he got that far—and he would be racing against time while rapidly going insane.

Lunch was dismissed soon after that, and the rest of the school was sent off to their fourth-period class. Hayden had no intention of spending his last hours of freedom taking notes, and instead went out to the front lawns to play ‘fetch’ with Bonk, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do with his last hours of spare time.

Bonk flew after the rubber chew toy for a few minutes, but Hayden could tell that his familiar’s heart wasn’t in it, and soon the dragonling perched in his lap and made little whimpering noises, nuzzling Hayden with his head.

“It’ll be okay, Bonk. I’ve done loads of stupid, dangerous things before and I always make it out somehow. Besides, this is one instance where having the worst Foci in the history of mage-kind will actually be helpful. I should be able to withstand the distortion inside there for a long time—longer than anyone else who’s tried.”

Whether that’s twenty minutes or twenty hours remains to be seen…

He patted his familiar gently, wishing he could take him along. He would feel immeasurably better having Bonk with him, because even though he might be the weirdest magical creature in existence, there was no denying that the dragonling had freakishly powerful magic when the occasion called for it. But he knew he’d have to leave his familiar behind—he’d asked Asher months ago whether familiars could enter the schism and had been told that the place had even more terrifying effects on their magic than on a human’s. Also, Bonk wouldn’t be moping around right now if he knew he could come along and protect Hayden.

They weren’t outside for more than fifteen minutes when Fia Valay, of all people, joined them. Standing to prevent his suit from getting dirty, the Fia looked down at him with strange pity in his eyes and said, “I came along for a reason, you know.”