Frost Prisms (The Broken Prism Book 5) (5 page)

“If you’re certain,” Asher sighed like it was a real shame. “Some people’s dispositions improve greatly by being unconscious.”

Master Willow let out a quiet chuckle of agreement before closing the door on the three mages once more, as though to lock away the problem for another time.

“Am I free to leave the infirmary, or should I plan on staying the night there?” Hayden asked during a lull in the conversation.

The two Masters exchanged a glance and then Asher said, “I suppose you’re free to go. Most of the others have returned to the school, and the Council surely knows that we’ve intercepted their people by now. With my colleagues back, I doubt they’ll be quick to send more kidnappers.”

“Think you can at least hold off my enemies long enough for me to put some clothes on?” Hayden gestured at the infirmary robe he still wore.

Master Willow gave him a flat stare and said, “I daresay we can,” in his driest tone.

“Thanks,” Hayden turned to his friends and added, “see you all in a bit.”

He walked off before anyone could answer, looking forward to having a few minutes alone with his thoughts. He hadn’t really been alone—and conscious—since he returned from the schism with his father in tow.

Unfortunately, with classes cancelled due to the Masters’ unplanned absence from the school, there were plenty of people walking around the corridors as Hayden strode purposefully towards the pentagonal foyer. People gawked at him openly as he walked past in a robe, many of them calling out to him, shouting praises for successfully closing the schism for good, or bursting into tumultuous applause. Hayden couldn’t really decide how he should react to all the attention: it seemed churlish not to wave or smile or something, but it also felt wrong to bask in the praise, knowing that few of these people would be so pleased if they knew who he brought back from the other realm with him.

The different emotions warred for dominance of his face, which resulted in a half-smile, half-grimace that probably just made it look like he had to use the bathroom. Annoyed, he sped up his pace so that he was nearly jogging by the time he hit the main stairwell that led up to the dormitories.

He hurried down the third-floor hallway, blowing past the common area without slowing down at the sound of more cheers in his general direction, finally finding refuge inside the room he shared with Zane, Tamon, and Conner, though all three were elsewhere at the moment.

Bonk paced back and forth in front of the doorway, as though guarding the entrance for him, while Hayden shucked off his robe and donned fresh clothing, slipping his Focus-correctors back onto each wrist.

After dressing, Hayden sat down at his desk and rested his chin on his folded hands, staring absently out the window and trying to collect his thoughts. The view from his room showed the eastern side of the castle, with the stables and Torin’s cabin visible below. The pen full of animals who were destined to become familiars was partially obscured by the log cabin, and Hayden watched a few monkeys swing around the little wooden posts that marked the boundaries of the pen. He found himself remembering the time that he had entered the pen in search of a familiar and ended up with Bonk, back in his first year.

I didn’t know anything about magic back then. I thought my life was difficult; I was an idiot.

It felt like such a long time ago. What he wouldn’t give to have things be simple again, with nothing to worry about except for people disliking him for being the son of a dead villain. He hadn’t appreciated how uncomplicated things were back then, despite the difficulty of making friends in a new place where people were inclined to be suspicious of him.

Now all I have to worry about is trying to stop the monster I accidentally unleashed on the world for a second time—after narrowly being killed inside an alternate plane of reality— while hiding from the ten most powerful mages on the continent, who are all screaming for my head at the moment.

Should be simple.

He had no idea how long he sat there, staring out the window and watching the sun set. Occasionally he glanced down at the homework on his desk, sketching a few alignments idly in the margins with colored pencil while he let his thoughts wander.

I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to finish the last few weeks of school this year.

It seemed trivial to be worry about his education right now, but he couldn’t help but rue the lost opportunity. He just wanted to take his final exams and move on to the next level in all his classes, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to abide hiding out at Mizzenwald forever, playing at school while the world at large was plunged into chaos. Even if he was permitted to remain here by the Council of Mages, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself for not doing his part to stop his father—or die trying.

With a sigh, he got up and rubbed his eyes tiredly, wincing because his back hurt from sitting for so long. He turned to find Bonk still watching the door for him.

“Come on, let’s go get some dinner,” he said to his familiar, who perked up immediately at the promise of food.

Now that Hayden thought about it, they had probably missed dinner entirely, but surely he could talk someone in the kitchens into making him up a plate. He and Bonk left the dormitory and were walking past the fifth-year common area when Zane called out to him from inside, saying, “In here.”

Pausing at the threshold, Hayden was surprised to see that the common area was much fuller than usual. Zane, Tess, Conner, and Tamon were waiting for him inside, along with what looked like half the students in their year, all crammed into the space around the fireplace or lining the walls. Oliver was leaning against the wall nearest the door, chatting quietly with his brother; both boys looked up as Hayden entered the room.

“I hope that’s for me,” Hayden pointed to a plate of cold-cuts and cheese that was sitting in front of the fire. “I was just headed to the kitchen to beg some scraps.”

“I thought you might be hungry,” Tess smiled lightly, gesturing to the food.

Hayden took the only open seat, a high-backed red velvet armchair directly in front of the fireplace—though it was turned around to face the rest of the room so that it felt like a throne.

Apparently this is question-and-answer time.

He settled down in the chair and watched Bonk hop gleefully into the flames, rolling around amongst the burnt logs and using them to scratch his back while Hayden took a few bites of food and tossed some ham to him in the fire. It was a little eerie how quiet everyone was while they stared at him.

After a minute or two the silence became unbearable, and Hayden set down his mostly-full plate of food and said, “So, I assume there was some kind of announcement at dinner?”

Conner nodded, looking pale and rattled.

“The Masters said the Dark Prism is back—that you saw him inside the schism and didn’t know who he was, and that he came back with you.”

The collective room seemed to hold their breath as Hayden nodded.

“Yeah, that’s more or less what happened.”

He waited for one of the Trouts to begin hurling accusations at him, insisting that he dragged his father back into their world on purpose, but to his mild surprise they both remained silent and watchful. Lorn’s doughy face looked young and frightened.

“What happens now?” a girl Hayden had never spoken to before asked from the back of the room, looking hesitant.

Toying idly with a piece of turkey, Hayden said, “Now I try to figure out a way to stop him before he wrecks the world again. If anyone has any ideas, feel free to send them my way,” he added with a smile that was anything but amused.

“So you really didn’t bring him back on purpose?” a boy named Richard from his Elixirs class asked softly.

The silence in the room thickened into something oppressive. Meeting Richard’s gaze unblinkingly, Hayden said, “I never met my father until the day he killed my mother, and I didn’t even remember what he looked like. All he’s ever given me is two years in lead-Binders, a lot of negative attention I never wanted, and the chance to live in Merina’s finest orphanage. What do
you
think?”

Richard relented and said, “The Masters said it wasn’t your fault, but people will talk.”

“If by ‘people’ you mean the Council of Mages, then yes, they already are.” He sighed and nibbled on a piece of cheese, contemplating what Master Asher had told him about needing all the allies he could get. His brain kicked into gear and he began planning.

“I don’t intend to sit here at school while he roams the countryside, slaughtering people wholesale—not for any longer than necessary to come up with a good plan of attack, at least. People say I’ve got the strongest Source they’ve ever seen—stronger than his. It’s hard to say what kind of shape he’s in now, but if that’s still true, then I’ve probably got the best chance of anyone at going up against him, and I’ve got Bonk on my side to help out.”

Though my father will have Cinder…

“What do you need us to do?” Conner asked heavily.

“Huh?” Hayden looked up in surprise.

“We all know you’re the real deal,” Tamon piped up. “You’re the best hope we’ve got, and we want to help. Tell us what we can do.”

Hayden frowned thoughtfully as he considered this unexpected boon, glancing briefly at Tess and Zane, who had both remained silent so far.

Finally, he answered, “Right now I need time, and I need information. The Council is already trying to take me from Mizzenwald so they can keep me under their thumb, either to arrest me or throw me up against my father before I’m ready—or to use me as bait for all I know.” There were a few gasps at this. “The Masters are trying to watch my back right now, but they’ve got a lot to do to get us ready to fight, and they can’t see everything. If you should encounter strangers roaming the school, looking for me, do me a favor and send them off in the wrong direction.”

There were a few chuckles at that.

“I also need information. A lot of you have parents and siblings who are part of the magical community in Junir—and even a few in the other lands. I expect my father to return to the Frost estate at some point to set up base again, but I need to know if he goes somewhere else, or what he’s doing. If you all can tap your resources and get me anything on what he’s working on, it will go a long way towards helping me plan. And of course, if anyone happens to have a brilliant idea for overpowering one of the fastest, strongest magic-users of the century, feel free to let me know.”

That earned a few dark snickers from the assembled group.

“Also…” Hayden added, suddenly hesitant. “If you all could just do me the simple favor of believing that I didn’t bring my father back to this realm on purpose, I would appreciate it. It may seem like a small thing, but just knowing that there are people who believe me would be a huge relief.”

“Of course we believe you,” Tamon scoffed, as though the very thought of the alternative was ridiculous. “You don’t have anything to gain from the Dark Prism coming back, and everything to lose.”

Hayden smiled humorlessly and said, “Be a dear and tell that to the Council of Mages, will you?”

He couldn’t resist the urge to glance at the Trouts as he said this. Lorn looked mulish, but Oliver’s expression was carefully neutral.

“So…” Conner began, looking timid. “What was he
like?
”

“My father?” Hayden asked with a raised eyebrow, frowning at the memory. “He was actually kind of awesome,” he admitted to general astonishment. “He clearly didn’t remember anything about his life before getting knocked into the other realm, and he saved my life about a dozen times before we made it back to Mizzenwald. I watched him wrestle schism-monsters bare-handed without breaking a sweat, not that that’s particularly good news right now.”

His peers continued peppering him with questions for as long as he was willing to answer them. By the time he finished the plate of food his friends had brought for him, he was getting tired and thought it would probably be a good idea to get a full night’s rest before facing whatever horrors tomorrow had in store.

Mercifully, the assembled group began leaving the common area ahead of him when he begged for an end to the questioning, and most of them still seemed to respect and like him at the end of it. Acting on sudden inspiration, Hayden waved his friends on without him and cornered Oliver and Lorn before they could slip out of the room.

“Not so fast,” he blocked their path. “I need a favor.”

3

A Sympathetic Link

“I believe it’s
you
who owes
our
family a favor, if memory serves me correctly,” Oliver pointed out casually. “We did help you reacquire your estate at the beginning of the year.”

“I remember it clearly, and I know I’m still in your debt—but I can hardly return the favor if I’m dead or in prison,” Hayden explained patiently.

Oliver shrugged to concede the point and said, “I’m listening.”

Lorn was being uncharacteristically silent, perhaps waiting to see whether Hayden’s request was going to be impertinent before opening hostilities.

“The Council of Mages is my biggest immediate problem,” Hayden stated bluntly.

Which is pretty impressive, given that the most infamous murderer of the century is running free again.

Oliver frowned and said, “If you’re thinking I can persuade them that you’re a wholesome young man who’s tragically misunderstood then you’re wasting your breath. I imagine Calahan isn’t going to rest until he has you publicly discredited and your image destroyed; he was already plotting out ways to bring you low on the off-chance you survived the schism.”

“I know Cal’s a lost cause, but some of the others on the Council might not be, and you have their ear.”

“Not really,” Oliver answered blandly. “I’m not the ruling member of my House, nor am I on the Council.”

“But your mother is,” Hayden countered flatly.

“So you want our mom to go out on a limb for you again, and never mind the cost to her career,” Lorn snapped hotly.

“I’m not asking her to preach my virtues to the Council, but she is one of the savviest people I know. Don’t tell me there’s nothing she can do to slow her colleagues down or divert them away from me and onto the real problem. Heck, they probably wouldn’t even realize she was manipulating them she’s so crafty.”

Oliver smirked.

“I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” Hayden assured him, relieved that he didn’t have to stand here all night trying to convince Oliver to have a word with his mother on his behalf. If he’d asked either Trout for a favor during his first year at Mizzenwald he’d probably have gotten punched in the face.

A testament to how far our relationship has progressed since then,
he thought ruefully.

“Frost,” Oliver called out to Hayden when he had nearly rounded the corner. Hayden stopped at the threshold without turning. Oliver seemed to wrestle internally with his question for a few moments before finally asking, “Do you think you’re stronger than him—honestly? Can you win?”

Hayden closed his eyes and reflected on all the things he had seen his father do before he realized that the man he’d known as Hunter was also the Dark Prism. He’d defeated schism-monsters for five years with nothing but his bare hands and homemade weapons, was an expert rock climber, and carried Hayden out of the schism on his back while fending off a dragon. All of that, without a drop of magic.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” Hayden admitted. “Probably not. But I have to try.”

Oliver didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, and Hayden walked back to his room alone.

It came as no surprise that classes were cancelled the following day. With the threat of the Dark Prism and the Council of Mages looming over them, the Masters of Mizzenwald had better things to do than teach. It was close enough to the end of the year that some students had already returned home, terrified at the thought of staying in a place that might soon be attacked by the most evil mage in the Nine Lands. Popular opinion was that Hayden’s father would be returning for him any day now, as soon as he established a base of operations and tuned up his powers.

“Can’t blame them for thinking it,” Zane offered mildly as they watched Master Reede drawing translocation circles in the front courtyard to send home anyone who didn’t want to remain at school. “All anyone knows is that the last thing your crazy dad did before disappearing for five years was show up at your mother’s house demanding to see you. Makes sense that he might go back to whatever his original purpose was once he gets set up again.”

Hayden shrugged, not able to disagree with his friend’s logic.

“Wish I knew what he wanted from me back then.”

“Shame you didn’t know who he was when you were in the schism together or you could’ve asked him,” Zane added, watching another small group of people vanish from the main courtyard. “I actually think I could draw those translocation circles now if I tried,” he switched subjects abruptly.

“Even if I had asked him, he wouldn’t have been able to answer,” Hayden frowned. “That’s the whole problem—he didn’t know who he was either. This would be a lot simpler if I
had
known he was the Dark Prism; I would have just left him in the other realm. And why wouldn’t you be able to draw those translocation circles? You’re a Conjury major…”

Zane shrugged.

“But you said you only made it out of there because your old man carried you out on his back. So if he stayed behind then you would have been stuck too.” He scowled at the thought. “And anyway, I know I’m a Conjury major, but it’s not like you could use all your crazy, quadruple-inverted, kajillion-alignment spells when you first walked in the door here. I was just harkening back to my first year, and of how proud I was when I mastered the single crosshatch. It’s weird being on this side of things.”

Hayden rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t say I wish I was stuck in the schism-world with my father, just that it would make things simpler out here. And a quadruple-inversion would just make things look normal, since you can only invert something once…” he grinned.

“You know what I mean,” Zane made a face at him.

“I know. And it does feel strange being mastery students, when I remember not even knowing what the five major arcana were on my first day here.” Hayden grimaced at the memory. “I kept mentally calling Powders ‘piles of sand’ until someone told me what it was actually called.”

Zane snorted so loudly it sounded painful.

Hayden was unsurprised by the whispers and stares that trailed in his wake in the following days. In fact, he was so accustomed to it by now that the attention didn’t even bother him. He was more surprised at breakfast one day when the Masters announced that school would be continuing on as normal, with one small adjustment.

“As you all know, final exams were not scheduled to occur for another three weeks,” Master Willow explained to the assembled students before classes started. “Due to the pressing demands on our time, and the threat of the Dark Prism, we have advanced that timeline significantly. As a result, your exams will begin tomorrow.”

He stopped speaking against a torrent of protests and exclamations throughout the room, people panicking over the reduced studying time. Hayden just couldn’t believe there were people who cared more about their exam grades than the threat of his father.

Wait until he starts killing again; I’m sure their priorities will change once that happens.

He frowned at the dark thought and turned back to his bacon and eggs, offering his leftovers to Bonk, who gulped them down enthusiastically.

When the room quieted down once more, the Master of Wands continued. “A revised schedule will be handed out in your third-period lessons today. I realize that many of you were counting on the extra time to prepare, but with the situation our land is in right now, we need to end the school year early so that we may better assist the Council of Mages with addressing this new threat. If the danger isn’t neutralized soon, we will likely cancel the next term as well.”

More muttering broke out at the idea of not being able to return to Mizzenwald. Hayden frowned and ignored the renewed glances in his direction from all of his peers. He supposed he could see the Masters’ logic in not reopening the school; collecting magically-gifted children in one convenient place might just provoke the Dark Prism to attack the school for a fresh supply of victims anytime he was feeling bored. Still, the thought of possibly never returning here was horrible enough on its own.

He knew he should be focusing in his lessons, as his teachers were now rapidly trying to review exam material with them, but Hayden’s mind kept drifting to darker matters instead.

I wonder where my father is right now.

Would he already be back at his childhood home—the place that Hayden had fought to get control of so recently? Was he already beginning to plan his next campaign of terror, or was he still adjusting to the sudden return of his memories and powers? Did he still have his memories from the day he blew up Hayden’s first home, and if so, would he ever circle back to visit Hayden for whatever it was he wanted that day?

The only class he paid attention to that day was Prisms, and that was only because Master Asher made it impossible to slack off. For one, Hayden was still the only student in the mastery-level class, so it would have been a bit obvious if he was asleep on his feet, but Asher had also decided to stuff his head full of new material rather than reviewing for exams.

“Focus, Hayden. That’s the second time I’ve had to repeat an alignment for you,” the Prism Master chided, somewhat snappishly.

“I’m trying, but that’s about the twentieth new complex, compounded alignment you’ve thrown at me in the last hour, and it’s a little hard to absorb so much information so quickly.”

Asher frowned and said, “There is no time for a casual learning environment, not anymore.”

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Hayden mumbled, “Everyone else is just reviewing for exams. I’m getting a year’s worth of prism lessons from you in a single day.”

“Exams are useless to you and you know it,” Asher snapped with uncharacteristic annoyance. “Do you really think Aleric is going to care if you got question thirteen right on your finals when he’s snuffing the life out of you?”

Hayden grimaced at the mental image.

“No, of course not, but I can only absorb information so quickly. Snapping at me for being slow isn’t going to make me any faster.”

Asher sighed and leaned back in his chair, making a visible effort to unclench his muscles and relax.

“I know, but time really is of the essence for you. We have no idea where Aleric is or what he is doing, but at some point you’re going to have to go up against him in battle. Ideally, you would have about fifteen of us alongside you, but your father would hardly let himself get caught against such bad odds. I have no idea what spells his Black Prism is capable of, which puts you at an enormous disadvantage; the only thing I
can
do to try and keep you alive is to cram every alignment that might be even vaguely useful down your throat before you meet him.”

“That one for trimming toenails seemed a little far-fetched,” Hayden commented with a faint smile. “Though if I survive my encounter with him I’ll never have to search for nail-clippers again.”

Asher snorted in weary amusement and leaned forward once more, gesturing to the hand-held chalk board that sat on the desk between them, currently marked up with the most recent alignment.

“Do we need to review Cloning again, or do you have it?”

Rather than answer, Hayden lowered his eyepiece and looked through his clear prism, holding a violet one in front of him to compound. He located the alignment quickly and cast the spell immediately, wincing and touching his head as it took hold. Compounding mastery-level prisms was difficult enough that it still gave him a headache to do it, though Asher said this would improve with practice.

An exact copy of himself stepped away from his body and stood there looking bored. It was eerie sitting next to himself—the copy looked very solid.

“Good, now make it do something more than stand around looking vacant,” Asher prompted without complimenting his achievement.

Guess we’re past the stage where he tells me what a good job I’m doing.

“How?” Hayden asked uncertainly. The clone-Hayden mirrored his confused expression.

Do I really look that stupid when I’m asking a question?

“The magic is still active for as long as the clone exists—you should feel it slowly pulling through your Foci,” Asher explained. “Seek out the magical connection between your Source and the clone—find it and command it.”

Hayden almost made a sarcastic comment about how much he loved vague instructions, but didn’t think it would be well received just now. Instead he closed his eyes and tried to look inside himself, feeling out the threads of magic that were open between his mind and the prisms. It wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be, and soon he discovered the link to the clone; it felt almost like holding the strings of a puppet.

Tap Asher on the shoulder,
he commanded mentally, opening his eyes.

The clone obeyed, though he jabbed the Prism Master a little harder than Hayden had intended—or maybe he was subliminally taking out his frustration on his mentor. Asher looked mildly amused, though he massaged the spot on his shoulder with one hand.