Cave of Nightmares (28 page)

“I don’t know what happened,” he answered, still staring at his hands. “I just saw myself in the mirror and it reminded me of something…like I was supposed to remember something important.” He frowned, closing his eyes. “Something about the way I looked…with that prism…”

He touched his forehead and realized that his circlet was missing. He opened his eyes and turned to Master Asher.

“Where’s my circlet?”

The Prism Master was still uncharacteristically grim-faced when he answered.

“In the arena. I’ll recover it later and have it sent to your room.”

“Co
ntinue your explanation, Hayden,” Master Willow redirected his focus, and Hayden frowned and went on.

“I don’t know why, but I put my hands against the mirror, and it made me think of…” He fell silent, unable to wrap
his mind around what he felt and saw in that moment.

“Go on…” Master Kilgore prodded gently.

“There were hands pressing against mine, hard…so hard that it hurt, and someone looking at me through a prism,” he tried to explain, closing his eyes in the hopes of capturing an image.

“That was you, looking at your reflection in th
e mirror and pushing against it,” Master Sark sounded mildly annoyed with him, like he was being deliberately obtuse.

“No, it
wasn’t me, it was someone else,” Hayden snapped, nettled. “Someone was pushing down on my hands and watching me through a prism, and there was screaming…then there were lights exploding inside of my head, thousands of them.” He glanced at Master Asher, who was stone-faced. “There were so many arrays and alignments I couldn’t see any of them properly. It was like a hundred prisms got compounded inside of my head, and it sort of blew up inside of me and ripped me to pieces.

“I panicked
because it hurt so badly and I thought I was going to die, and that if I looked through my prism my mom was going to die too…but she’s already dead so I don’t know why I was worrying about that.” Hayden clenched his hands into fists and stared down at them. “I don’t remember much after that, just panicking because I was afraid of being ripped apart by all those lights again, and thinking that I needed to break all the mirrors so my reflection wouldn’t hurt me.”

He continued to stare down at the sheets on his bed, afraid to meet anyone else’s eyes.

“So that’s it…I’m crazy, aren’t I?” He felt tears coming to his eyes and fought them with every ounce of effort he possessed, determined not to cry in front of the Masters and his only friends.

“You are not crazy,” Master Asher said softly at the same time that Master Sark said, “He’s lost his mind.”

The former gave the latter a glare that could kill.

“I’m not?” Hayden looked up at the Prism Master hopefully, desperate for an explanation. Master Asher looked surprisingly sad when he spoke next.

“No, you are not,” he sighed. “What you described sounds like a severe case of light-sickness.”

“And how w
ould you know the boy had light-sickness?” Master Sark grumbled.

“B
ecause I experienced it when my Focus was damaged,” he held up his left arm and the robes fell back to reveal his crystalline Focus-corrector. “My case was probably much milder than Hayden’s, but I remember hundreds of arrays forcing their way into my mind, burning and warping my Focus as they went.”

Hayden’s mouth opened in shock. “Is that the ripping feeling I had, like I was being torn apart from
the inside?”

“It sounds like it.” Master Asher was looking at him as though they were the only two people in the room. “I believe your memory was triggered when you saw yourself standing there in the mirror, with that prism over your eye. You were remembering the day that your house exploded and your Foci were damaged.”

His words were met with a resounding silence. Even Sark looked floored by the idea of it.

“So I was remembering…my father? He was really there
that day, and he attacked me?” Hayden asked quietly, wishing he could remember pictures instead of random feelings about the event.

“Apparently so,
” Master Asher frowned.

“Then the pressure I felt on my hands…it was him, pushing down on them with his own, him
staring at me through his prism,” Hayden reasoned out, trying to put together a sequence of events from that horrible day. “And it must have been my mother screaming…” he swallowed a lump of emotion.

“But why
would Aleric use a prism on his own son? What could he hope to accomplish by grabbing the boy’s hands?” Master Sark looked incredulous, and Hayden’s temper snapped.

“Why don’t
you
tell
me
? You’re the one who used to do research with him.”

The Powder Master’s face looked like it was filling with boiling water, and even Master Reede winced at the effect. Tess and
Zane gasped, Master Willow frowned, and Kilgore stepped between the two of them before Master Sark could say anything more than, “You have no—”

“Enough,” Master Kilgore commande
d in a firm voice, looking at both Hayden and his colleague. “Let’s leave the past where it belongs and get on with the present. We still have to award points, and then I say we call it a night.”

The tension in the room relaxed
marginally, though Sark gave Hayden a venomous stare before turning away from him and addressing Tess.

“When your teammate contracted gangrene, you
displayed an admirable use of powders by—”

Hayden tuned out the noise and returned to his private thoughts, not caring about the scores or the criticism. He was still dwelling on the things he had just learned about the horrible day when his life changed forever, the day he hadn’t been able to remember anything about for the last two years.

Why did looking into that mirror trigger my memory like that?

He had been told before that he resembled his father, though some people said they looked nothing alike. Maybe he looked like him just enough that it cued his memory when he saw himself in the mirror with his hands pressed against the glass.

He would ask Master Asher about it once everyone else was gone, because the Prism Master seemed to know a bit about light-sickness and magical damage, and besides, Hayden had always been able to confide in him without being made fun of.

He heard
his name and returned his focus to the present. Master Kilgore was just praising his use of elixirs in the arena and especially for the combined effect of casting the Obscuration spell with his cherry wand.

“Your fina
l score tallies to eight points,” he added, surprising Hayden, who had been expecting to get reamed for going nuts and losing points for it.

“Well, let’s be off now. I’m sure the four of you have homework to finish.” Master Willow stood up, casting Hayden one last concerned look before leading the group out of the infirmary.

“Master Asher, wait…” Hayden called out gently, feeling awkward. “Um, could I talk to you for a minute?”

The Prism Master nodded as though expecting this, and Hayden turned to his friends, who had remained behind with him.

“You guys go on…I’ll be fine. I’ll be back in the room in a few minutes,” he added to Zane, who frowned but stood up with his teammates.

“Sure, see you in a bit
…” The three of them left, giving Hayden a worried look before shutting the door behind them.

Master Asher sat down on the edge of the bed, examining a stray strand of metallic thread on his robes without interest.

“You have questions, I assume?” he asked softly, and Hayden was suddenly struck with the impression of how young the Prism Master was. He had an aura of authority and experience about him so it was easy to forget that he was only thirty years old, the youngest Master Mizzenwald had hired in hundreds of years.

He was just twenty-five when he started teaching here…he’s younger than my mom
would be if she was still alive.

“I
was wondering…what is light-sickness, exactly? How does it happen?”

Master Asher frowned thoughtfully, still toying with the loose strand of thread around his cuff.

“There aren’t very many accountings of it since it’s a very rare illness, typically only affecting prism-users, which are rare to begin with.” He sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair. “From what I’ve read and experienced, light-sickness occurs when you try to force way too much power through your Foci, more than your mind can process. The result of trying to exert so much will against the world can sometimes be that the world pushes back, hard, and you get a blast of light and raw power channeled into your body.”

“And that broke my Foci?”

“Almost certainly,” he nodded. “It would make sense, given that you said Aleric was pushing against your hands.”

“What do you mean?”

“The hands are the only thing between our magical Foci and the world around us. If your father was pressing his palms against yours while casting with a prism, then he was trying to force a tremendous amount of power through you, directly from his Foci to yours. Unsurprisingly, it overwhelmed you and gave you light-sickness, not to mention shattered your magical conduits. Given the extent of the damage, you’re lucky to be alive at all.”

Hayden frowned thoughtfully.

“But why would my father be trying to channel magic through me at all? What would that gain him?”

Master Asher looked truly confused and frustrated when he answered.

“I honestly have no idea, Hayden. I can’t think of a single way that it would benefit a person to force magic through someone else’s Foci.” He frowned. “Perhaps he was just trying to kill you, though there are certainly much simpler and less painful ways of going about it than that…”

They sat in silence for a moment, until the Prism Master got to his feet and straightened his robes.

“Come on, you’d best get back to your room before Zane panics. I’ll go retrieve your circlet from the arena.”

Hayden stood up and followed him out of the infirmary, not able to come up with any more questions just now. His brain felt saturated with information, and all he wanted to do was go to sleep and pretend that today never happened.

They parted ways at the main stairwell and Hayden made the long trek up to the sixth floor, exhausted by the time he entered the dormitory. Fortunately it was still fairly early and Conner and Kayce weren’t in the room, because he didn’t feel like dealing with anyone else right now. Zane was sitting up in bed with Felix the fox, looking relieved to see him.

“Sorry I scared you back the
re. I’m fine now though, really,” Hayden assured his friend, pleased but surprised when Bonk flew over to him and nudged him affectionately with his head.

“Yeah, wel
l you scared the snot out of us,” Zane said. “The way you were screaming, I thought you were being murdered for real.” He grimaced. “Then Kilgore and Asher busted into the arena and hauled us all out…terrified the mastery students waiting at the translocation circle.”

“Why were they terrified?”

Zane gave him a look that indicated he was plainly missing some common piece of knowledge about the workings of Mizzenwald.

“The Masters
never
enter the arenas during a challenge. They possess animals or objects with the charms they have so they can see us, but that’s it,” Zane sounded awed and impressed. “It makes sense, because even if we die in the arena we’re fine in real life…so they just sit there and watch it happen. Asher and Kilgore must have been really scared for you if they came in to drag you out. We never even made it to the trigger, so you can imagine how the summoners felt when we just appeared in their translocation circle with two of the Masters, one of them carrying the lifeless body of our prism-user.”

Hayden grimaced at the thought.

“Any chance of this not getting out around school?” The last thing he needed right now was for everyone to know he had gone insane inside an arena. Oliver and Lorn Trout would throw a party; Jasper would sing.

“Are you kidding? I’ll be shocked and amazed if the whole school
doesn’t know within the hour,” Zane gave him a commiserating look.

Just then
the door flew open and Conner hurried inside, struggling to catch his breath and looking wild-eyed.

“There you are!” He acted as though he’d been searching for them for days. “Hayden, you won’t
believe
what people are saying about you!”

13

The Broken Prism

Unfortunately for Hayden, Zane’s prediction was proven correct the next morning. As soon as they entered the dining hall for breakfast all eyes turned to Hayden and the room fell eerily silent. He did his best to ignore it and was almost relieved when the chatter resumed, though he could tell from the excited whispers that it was mostly about him.

He sat
down beside Mira, who was eyeing him with a strange sort of pent-up concern. Tamon was directly across from him and broached the awkward subject by saying, “What the heck happened during your arena last night?”

Hayden was uncomfortably aware of the ne
arby tables trying to listen in and lowered his voice carefully before answering, so that the others had to lean forward to hear him.

“I had a fl
ashback from the day I got light-sickness and it made me ill, so Kilgore and Asher brought us out of the arena before we could get to the trigger to make sure I was alright.”

Zane
tried to keep his features neutral upon hearing this colossal understatement and mercifully said nothing to correct him. The last thing Hayden wanted to do right now was confide the scant details he could remember about his mother’s death to the entire school.

“Oh wow,
” Mira frowned. “Well, that doesn’t sound fun, but it’s a lot better than what other people have been saying…so that’s good, I suppose.”

“What have other people bee
n saying?” Hayden wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know, but figured it was best to get it out of the way sooner rather than later.

“
One of the mastery-level students at the translocation circle must have run his mouth, because people were saying that the Masters had to carry you out of the arena unconscious,” she explained uneasily, twirling a strand of red hair around her finger. “Since then all sorts of rumors have been going around.”

“Jasper
Dout has been telling anyone who will listen that you got so scared you passed out for an hour and the Masters went in to get you because they didn’t think you’d ever wake up and make it to the trigger.” Tamon rolled his eyes, glancing over at the table of older boys, who looked positively gleeful about Hayden’s embarrassment.

“
Jeena said that the Masters were feeling cross with you and put you in an arena with a construct of the Dark Prism, and that you two dueled with prisms and he killed you…” Mira scowled down the table at her classmate, who blushed and looked away.

“Definitely not,
” Hayden replied as calmly as possible, trying to force down some breakfast despite the fact that he was not at all hungry.

“Do you remember what happened to…
hi
m
on the day he disappeared?” Mira asked softly, her lips parted in a frightened sort of awe.

The others became unusually silent as they waited for him to answer.

“Not really. I just remembered some strange feelings about the entire thing…like him pressing his hands against mine, forcing so much magic through me that it warped my Foci,” Hayden frowned. “I don’t even remember what he looked like.”

Tamon looked confused.

“Why in the world would he be trying to force magic through your channels?”

“No idea,” Hayden shrugged. “That’s just what Master Asher guessed, but he didn’t know why my father would do it either.”

Zane mercifully changed the subject after that by asking them if anyone could explain the chapter on bellicana berries to him from their Healing homework. Hayden knew he was just doing this on his behalf, because Zane had completed their homework several nights ago.

He was thankful for the start
of classes that day because it took his mind off of the fact that everyone else was talking about him. He was concentrating so hard that he was the third person in Wands to successfully complete the Boil spell, and steam swirled upwards in front of him and made his hair curl at the ends while he watched his classmates struggling.

Conjury passed
entirely without incident, and he enjoyed his free period before lunch in the main courtyard with Bonk, thrilled to be out of Powders class for the remainder of the year. His dragon was flying in large circles above the ornamental pear and cherry trees while Hayden unpacked his Wands textbook and sat down on a stone bench to begin his reading assignment. He was three pages in when a shadow fell over him and he looked up in surprise.

“Master Kilgore?” The Elixirs Master was standing in front of him, his bright red robes gleaming in the sunlight.

“May I sit down?”

Hayden raised his
eyebrows in surprise. “Uh, sure,” he closed his book and slid over on the bench to make room, trying to imagine what he had done that was bad enough to bring one of the Masters out of the castle to find him. “I thought you had a class during third period.”

“I do, but it’s time for some of my mastery-level students to do their teaching rotations as part of their apprenticeship requirements.” He ran a hand through his red-grey hair. “I’m happy enough for the break; gives me more time for research.”

Hayden said nothing to this, because he wasn’t sure that sitting on a park bench with him counted as research.
Unless he’s studying crazy people who were nearly murdered by their evil fathers.

“How are you holding up?” Master Kilgore changed the subject abruptly. “I imagine al
l the chatter about you has made today a bit unpleasant.”

Hayden chuckled darkly. “You can
say that again. But I’m alright; I’m used to people talking about me by now.”

Master Kilgore frowned slightly.

“I expect you are,” he exhaled heavily. “It’s a damn shame that you’ve been tarred by Aleric’s reputation.”

Hayden said nothing to this.

“I see Asher got your circlet returned to you,” Master Kilgore nodded towards it, resting in its usual place around Hayden’s head. “Good, I hoped he wouldn’t forget. He can be a bit scatterbrained sometimes.”

“Master Asher’s a genius,
” Hayden said, a little defensively.

“Of course he’s brilliant
, or he wouldn’t be here. He’s still a bit scatterbrained.” Kilgore chuckled.

“Yeah
, I guess.” Hayden focused on his hands to avoid meeting the Master’s eyes. “Um…thanks for coming to get me out of the arena last night.”

Kilgore made an acknowledging noise and they sat in silence for a moment longer before Hayden got up the nerve to ask his next question.

“Sir? Can I ask you something about Master Sark?”

Kilgore’s expression became carefully neutral. “You may, but I reserve the right not to answer if it is inappropriate or offensive.”

Hayden nodded. “I was just wondering…well, Tess showed me her Powders book a while ago, and one of the chapters about the Law of Trans-something cited Master Sark and my father as discoverers.”

“Yes?” Master Kilgore looked like he didn’t understand what the question was yet.

“Um…I guess I was just surprised to learn that they worked together. Were they…friends?”

Master Kilgore frowned thoughtfully before answering. “They were research students at the same time, though Sark was much older than Aleric. H
e’d left Mizzenwald years earlier after graduating the mastery-level to travel the world, and returned afterwards to continue his studies. That was when he met your father, who was only then in his sixth year of school.”

Hayden listened in fascination, trying to imagine it.

“Aleric was best-known for his skill with prisms, as you well know, but he was also quite good with powders.” He must have caught the look on Hayden’s face, because he let out a chuckle and said, “You are not like your father in all ways.” Then, more seriously, “Rejoice in those differences, for without them you would not be here today.”

Hayden frowned and nodded agreement.

“Anyway, he and Kirius did some research together and won several awards for their groundbreaking work. It seemed like Kirius was on the fast-track to joining the Council of Mages—possibly as its leader—due in no small part to his work with your father. I believe he thought very highly of Aleric during those short years of their acquaintance.”

Again
Hayden tried to imagine it, his father being well-liked and admired. It was hard to conceive of.

“Then—we
ll, you know what happened then,” Master Kilgore sighed regretfully. “Aleric gave in to the temptations of the broken prism in his quest to pioneer even more impressive groundbreaking magic. It warped and corrupted him, until he could no longer tell friends from enemies and left Mizzenwald entirely to begin his reign of terror.”

“So that was it? Master Sark just
forgot about their friendship after that and pretended he’d always hated him?”

Master Kilgore shook his head.
“Not exactly. You have to understand, Hayden, as your father became more and more notorious it became a very bad thing to claim an association with him—past or present. All of his old friends began to feel the backlash and hatred of the magical community—of the world, really. Everyone wanted to point fingers and say that they should have known what Aleric was becoming, that he was secretly a monster all this time and they should have stopped him before he got so far.”

“But he
wasn’t
a monster all that time…” Hayden interrupted, alarmed by the unfairness of it all. “Everyone has said he was normal until he started messing with imperfect prisms, so how can anyone else be blamed for his choices after that?”

“I didn’t say it was fair, I
said it’s what happened,” Master Kilgore countered gently. “Well, Kirius was no exception. There he was, on the cusp of becoming the youngest member of the Council of Mages in a century, and suddenly he was blacklisted because of his association with your father. He lost the nomination, most of his friends, and the woman he had been courting before it was all said and done. No one wanted to claim ties to the man who had done so much research with the monster your father became.”

Hayden frowned, surprised to find that he felt sorry for Master Sark.

“In the end he did manage to salvage enough of his reputation to secure the teaching post here, mostly for the perks of acquiring a Mastery Charm. And I don’t think he minds being at Mizzenwald, per se, but he’s still trying to shake off the remnants of those years with your father in the hopes of ascending to the Council someday.”

“I guess that explains why
he can’t stand the sight of me.” Hayden frowned, not happy about it but at least understanding Master Sark’s perspective now.

“No, I expect
he’s determined to dislike you no matter what; hedging his bets, I wager.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he was friends with your father and look at what happened,” Master Kilgore explained lightly. “I imagine he’s expecting you to go the same way in the end, and he wants to be able to show that he wasn’t fooled by you even in the beginning if that happens.”

Hayden’s insides squirmed unpleasantly at the thought.

“Do you think I’m going to grow up to be like my father?”

Master Kilgore was watching him neutrally. “As long as you avoid the te
mptation of the imperfect prism I don’t see why you would.” He shrugged. “Me—and most of the others—are giving you a chance, Frost. Just keep up like you have been, and you’ll be fine.”

“Really?”

Master Kilgore stood up and patted him on the shoulder. “You’re not a bad kid, Frost. You’ll be alright.”

And with that he walked off, leaving Hayden alone to his confusing thoughts. He wasn’t
sure if he felt better or worse—maybe a bit of both—after hearing about Master Sark’s experience with his father.

He managed to complete his reading assignment for Wands after that, despite Bonk’s best efforts to distract him by chasing down a squirrel and eating it noisily next to where he was sitting.

He returned to the school just in time for lunch, hurrying up the stairs to his room so he could exchange his books for the ones he would need this afternoon and drop Bonk off.

“Are you going to be a
lright here for the afternoon? Because I won’t be back until dinner,” Hayden asked the dragon, who belched in response, causing a small jet of fire to shoot out of his mouth.

“I’ll take that as a yes,
” Hayden mumbled, and Bonk flopped onto his back on top of Hayden’s bed with his legs sticking straight up in the air. It made him look dead.

Hayden packed his things for Healing, Elixirs, and Prisms, and made his way back down the hallway for lunch. He passed the common area about halfway down the hall and peeked inside; it was entirely empty right now. He’d never spent much time in the communal space, which was filled with couches and bean-bag chairs so the second-year students could enjoy their free time together. There were boxes of games and cards lying around, and a snack cart in one corner with refreshments.
Kayce spent a lot of time here with his friends, typically only returning to their dorm room to sleep.