Frost Prisms (The Broken Prism Book 5) (25 page)

A little surprised by the topic, Hayden forced his expression to remain neutral, focusing on the feel of the breeze across his face. Having a connection with the outside world helped remind him that there was actually something worth living for outside of this ornate dungeon.

“That makes sense,” he conceded. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to apologize for struggling to stay alive.”

The Dark Prism ignored the jab completely, as though he hadn’t even registered the words. For all Hayden knew, he hadn’t.
It was hard to tell when his father was actually paying attention to him and when he was simply talking out loud to himself while Hayden happened to be present in the room.

“Your physical struggles I had planned for, but your magical opposition—”

“I didn’t fight you with magic,” Hayden interrupted. “I didn’t even know I could use magic.”

“—posed an unexpected problem,” his father continued speaking despite the interruption, with the result that they ended up talking over each other and Hayden could barely hear the last part of his father’s sentence.

I might as well be a cactus for all the respect he shows me.

Biting back frustration, Hayden tried again.

“But I didn’t have a weapon, so how could I have resisted you magically?”

His father selected a blue colored pencil, still not honoring him by paying proper attention, adjusting his magnifying glass and glancing through the Black Prism to confirm something before he returned to coloring.

“You had an affinity for prisms even then, whether you were aware of it or not,” he answered at last, exchanging his blue pencil for a black one without looking up. Hayden grimaced as he saw the large black band that his father filled in on the sheet of paper in front of him, suppressing the urge to hurl at the memory of that unnatural hue.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I was prism-less at the time,” Hayden countered lightly, still watching the man carefully. Normally he would love to treat his father to the same contemptuous treatment that he himself was receiving, but in this case he couldn’t afford the luxury of petty revenge. He needed to know everything he could about the way his father thought, worked, and conducted himself, which meant studying him as closely as possible at all times.

“But
I
was not,” Aleric answered simply, still shading in an area of black in his notes.

It took a second for the implication to set in, and then Hayden didn’t have to feign surprise when he blurted out, “You think I used
your
prism to fight you off? I had never attempted magic in my life, and I somehow managed to look through the Black Prism—inverted, I might add—and find some alignment to stop you from leeching out my Source without my brain exploding?”

Well, I suppose my brain
did
nearly explode, come to think of it.

He had always assumed that the light-sickness that gave him amnesia and nearly killed him was a side effect of whatever magic his father had been using on him at the time, but what if it wasn’t? What if Hayden himself had caused it by using a distorted prism?

That would mean that I’ve already used a broken prism, even before I started school! Even inverted, it’s a miracle that it didn’t screw me up completely or alter my mind!

Then a more sinister thought.

But what if it
did?
How do I know that it didn’t have some effect on my mind, and it was just so subtle that I didn’t notice? Does that mean there’s something evil inside of me, festering, waiting to come out? Or is it like Asher said…sometimes people don’t start to change until they’ve been dabbling with broken prisms for a while, so maybe I was lucky…

His father didn’t seem to be aware of the internal debate raging inside of him, or perhaps he just didn’t care, because he kept speaking under the assumption that Hayden was hanging onto his every word, so he was forced out of his dark thoughts to avoid missing anything.

“—not a conscious decision,” he explained coolly, still focused on his research. “Under threat of death, your mind likely reached out and found a successful pathway without any intent on your part. It has been known to happen when magic-users are under extreme pressure.”

Hayden thought about that for a minute. It was true that he had discovered alignments that even Asher had never seen before, during moments of intense stress or when he was about to die. He thought back to his second year at school, during the I.S.C., when he had managed to bend light around him and repel all magical attacks. He had been trying to escape the horrible burns of that violet web, and had no idea what spell his mind latched onto. And only recently, when fighting Kilgore for information about Tess, he had panicked and found some spell that nearly made his skin turn to diamond.

“Huh,” Hayden said out loud, having new respect for his ten-year old self. “That’s good to know.”

“When I am finished making adjustments to the spell itself, your opposition may still create difficulties—though not of the magnitude we experienced previously.” His father said this as though it was bad news for Hayden in some way.

“You mean because if I was able to shut you out when I was ten and uneducated, I’m almost certainly able to do so now that I know what I’m on about?” He smiled to himself. “Seems like a valid concern.”

“I thought you would make the childish, insolent decision, and you have proven me correct.”

Unnervingly, his father didn’t look upset when he said this. Hayden could see no reason why he should still be cool and collected right now, knowing that Hayden could muck up his plans time and again.

“Look at this from my point of view,” Hayden explained. “There’s really no reason for me
not
to resist you. You want to drain the very life from me and leave me dead for the carrion birds to pick at, while you boost your own power immensely. Why would I want to go along with this plan?”

Aleric set down his colored pencils and closed his eyes pensively. He looked like he was searching his memory for something, though Hayden had no idea what that might be. Still, he was worried when his father finally opened his eyes and leveled his gaze at him, because nothing good ever happened when he had the man’s full attention.

“Tess?” he asked softly, as though plucking the name from thin air.

Hayden felt his face blanch, as all the blood in his body seemed to drain towards his feet. The sensation was so abrupt that he swayed a little and had to lean against the window ledge for support.

Of all things he could remember from the schism…

He wanted to kick himself for telling Hunter his life’s story, especially all about Tess.

“Yes, that was her name,” Aleric confirmed after seeing the look on Hayden’s face. “I seem to recall you speaking about her…at length. One might infer that she has special value to you.”

I’ll kill him, I have to kill him, he cannot leave this house alive,
Hayden chanted inside his head, seeing red.

“Leave her out of this,” he said out loud, voice shaking with barely-controlled rage.

“Someone
very
special, then,” his father continued. “Perhaps I should bring her here as a means of encouraging your good behavior. If you become insolent, I could punish her instead of you—you know that I need you intact until I’ve removed your Source and the part of mine that you hold. If you attack me, she would be punished accordingly. Were you to resist my attempts to reclaim what is mine, well…” he let that thought trail off, the silence spiraling horribly between them.

Hayden clenched his fists and his jaw so hard that his teeth hurt. He knew he was not in a position to fling himself at his father and beat the man to death, but that’s exactly what his back-brain was screaming at him to do at this very moment.

“You’ve already killed her mother, and if you so much as glance sideways at her, I will make you wish you had never threatened me with her,” Hayden informed him, scarily calm.

“You are not in a position to make good on that threat,” his father explained, looking unimpressed. He turned back to his work. “I believe I will go to her tonight.”

Hayden punched the glass of the open window pane beside him, wincing as his hand scraped against the broken fragments and began to bleed. He grabbed a particularly large shard and held it up triumphantly.

His father looked mildly annoyed.

“You think I care that you broke a window? Glass can be replaced.”

“Try again,” Hayden held the shard of glass against his own throat, over the spot where only a few months ago, his father had pressed a knife. The irony wasn’t lost on him now.

The Dark Prism’s eyebrows lifted.

I’ve finally managed to surprise the man.

“If you go anywhere near Tess, I’ll end my own life and rob you of both my Source and yours. Study all you want, but you will
never
be able to recover what I took from you.”

His father gave him a look of grudging respect, which was both annoying and gratifying.

“But you will be dead.”

“I’ll be dead whether you get my Source or I end things myself,” Hayden shrugged, still clutching the shard of glass.

“I could stun you while your guard is down and keep you immobilized until I am ready to recover my Source from you.”

Hayden called his bluff.

“You need me awake and my Foci clear to work your magic. You can’t leave me immobilized, and I’ll only make trouble for you the moment I can move again.”

His father continued to stare at him.

“What do you propose?” he asked lightly.

“You leave Tess and all my other friends out of this, and I’ll give you what you want. When the time comes, I won’t struggle at all, and then I’ll be dead and you’ll have your power back and I won’t care what happens to the world anymore.”

He wondered if his father knew him well enough to realize that he was lying. Hayden’s entire threat hinged on the fact that he didn’t.

The Dark Prism considered him thoughtfully for a moment, and Hayden tried not to show any visible sign of emotion. If this didn’t work, he would have to take his life now, because that was the only thing he could do to deprive his father of the extra power. Besides, Aleric would have no reason to pursue Tess or any of the others once he was dead.

After a tense moment, his father said, “We have an agreement.”

Hayden exhaled and lowered the shard of glass, dropping it to the floor and finally acknowledging that his hand hurt really badly; there were still bits of glass poking out of the skin in three places, and he began working to extract them.

The deal struck, the Dark Prism immediately lost interest in him once more, and was about to turn back to his work when suddenly he whirled around to stare at Hayden once more. He was completely alert and focused, and Hayden had no idea what he’d done to rivet the man’s attention just now.

Then he realized that his father wasn’t staring at him. He was staring out the window that was just behind him.

“What is it?” Hayden asked curiously, wondering what could command so much of his father’s attention as to make him seem almost human again.

“Something is coming,” Aleric answered simply.

Intrigued, Hayden raised an eyebrow and asked, “What kind of something?”

“Something powerful.”

Powerful enough to get my father’s attention from a distance? Maybe Asher and the others are about to storm the place…but they don’t know the details of the defensive wards!

“Powerful enough to get through your barriers?” Hayden solicited mildly, heart hammering with fear and hope.

“Yes.”

Hayden tried not to let the relief show on his face.

They’ve found a way through and they’re coming to rescue me! Together we’ll take down my father while he’s still comparatively weak and this nightmare will all be over with.

But then Hayden saw the small figure that soared over the gates and through a ripple of magic as though it wasn’t even there, approaching the window at speed, and he understood.

Bonk perched on the window ledge and looked at Hayden’s bleeding hand as though to say,
What am I going to do with you?

14

Masters and Companions

Hayden had never been happier to see Bonk in his entire life. His familiar looked him over as though checking for signs of damage, before perching on Hayden’s shoulder. The weight of the dragonling was a welcome relief; he hadn’t realized just how badly he’d missed his familiar until they were parted at the Trout estate. He also noticed a scrap of paper tied to the dragonling’s leg, but for the moment he left it alone.

The Dark Prism was watching the scene with a mildly interested look on his face. Hayden didn’t think the man was faking surprise when he said, “Bonk?” as though greeting an old colleague. Then, looking at Hayden, he added, “Bonk is your familiar?”

Not seeing what the big deal was, Hayden said, “Yeah, why?”

His father and Bonk seemed to be in some sort of battle of wills, each staring the other down and refusing to blink or look away. Hayden knew that Bonk had been at Mizzenwald for fifty years before choosing to become his familiar, and that that meant he knew Hayden’s father on some level from his old school days, but that was also true of nearly every student to pass through Mizzenwald in the last fifty years as far as Hayden knew.

It was Aleric who finally broke the silence and said, “All that time, and you were waiting for him?”

He seemed to be speaking to the dragon, not Hayden, and by the slight emphasis he placed on the word ‘him’, Hayden finally understood that his father was jealous.

My father wanted
Bonk
to be his familiar?

He had no idea why the Dark Prism would have been after such an oddball dragonling, even before he corrupted himself. Cinder was the very definition of a proper dragon: regal, haughty, a slick killer, mighty hunter, and generally not a creature to be trifled with. Bonk was pretty much the opposite of all of those things except in very rare circumstances, in which case he could drum up some dragonish pride. Even his name was dumb.

Then it hit him.
Bonk is powerful. How many people have said he’s the me of dragons—that he’s extremely powerful for no apparent reason.

Of course his father would have learned about that while at school, and since he’d already proven that power was his weakness, naturally he would want such a creature to become his ally.

The Dark Prism is actually jealous of me.

That probably didn’t bode well for him, but since Hayden already knew that his father was planning to kill him in the most painful way possible, the thought didn’t frighten him nearly as much as it might normally. What was his father going to do, kill him twice?

Bonk turned away from Aleric—a feat few humans could survive—and looked instead at Cinder, who returned his gaze steadily. Hayden felt uncomfortable on their behalf, knowing that they were now enemies by virtue of their alliances. If either dragon felt awkward, they didn’t show it, though the only emotion Cinder usually showed was contempt, and Bonk was being unusually stern right now.

“Where has he been all this time?” Hayden’s father drew his attention once more. “He was not with you in the Crystal Tower.”

“He was out hunting when I got nabbed from where I was staying,” Hayden explained.

“And he did not follow on to assist you during your captivity?” his father asked with some surprise. Hayden couldn’t entirely blame him, as he had—more than once—had the same thought.

“He must not have thought I was in any real danger, or that him being there would only make things worse,” Hayden defended his familiar out of habit, and because he didn’t need to annoy his one ally at a time like this. “Familiars always serve the best interest of their companion.”

The look his father bestowed upon him was laced with derision. “You don’t think of yourself as his master?”

“I think of us as partners. Only a fool would forget that his familiar is more powerful than him.”

His father tilted his head in acknowledgment of this without conceding the point.

“Then as your partner, he has a choice to make.” It didn’t escape Hayden’s notice that his father was now looking at Bonk through the Black Prism. He had no idea what would happen if his father attacked, or whether Bonk was more powerful than the Black Prism.

“Oh?” Hayden asked mildly, shifting his body weight so that he would be in a position to tackle his father if he needed to buy Bonk time. The movement didn’t escape Cinder’s notice, and his father’s dragonling fixed his eyes on Hayden and tensed.

“I have no personal objection to him keeping you company—creatures of power will always be honored guests of the Frost estate—but neither can I have him coming and going, running letters to my enemies.” He gestured to the scrap of paper still tied to Bonk’s leg, calling attention to it for the first time since Bonk’s arrival. “Nor do I underestimate the power your familiar commands; as you said, only a fool would be so blind.”

And sadly, you are no fool, Father.

“What are you saying?” Hayden felt his muscles go taut, preparing to pounce. The moment seemed very close now; he could see his father’s prism-eye idly scanning for alignments while he spoke.

“He can leave now and resolve to stay away, or he can accept Binders and be deprived of all magical power.” He looked almost uneasy as he said, “An embarrassment, I realize, for such a distinguished creature, but the alternative is even less unpleasant for all parties involved.”

Hayden could see the alternative clearly enough.
My father and Cinder against me and Bonk. Normally that might be even odds, but I’m completely unarmed. I’d be battling the Dark Prism with my fists and whatever blunt objects I can grab onto before he slays me.

But the choice wasn’t Hayden’s, it was Bonk’s, and if his familiar decided that he would rather fight than suffer the indignity of being cut off from his magic, then Hayden would do his best to occupy his father long enough for Bonk to bring down Cinder.

All three of them seemed to wait with bated breath until Bonk stuck out one leg in surrender. Hayden exhaled heavily, feeling a little lightheaded and unsure of how long he was actually holding his breath. His father and Cinder both relaxed marginally.

The Dark Prism turned his back on them and crossed to the other side of the library, stopping at the end of a seemingly random bookshelf and drawing a knife from a sheath at his waist. He nicked his thumb and smeared the drop of blood against the grain of the wood, and Hayden heard the sound of a latch release as a square panel opened up. The wood of the bookshelf didn’t seem thick enough to contain anything—it was less than an inch thick—but the compartment his father reached into seemed much deeper so he assumed it was magically-enhanced.

His father withdrew a set of Binders that were large enough to fit on Hayden’s wrists and shut the compartment. As the panel swung shut, Hayden noticed that the blood on the outside of it was gone.

I’ll bet you haven’t realized that I can access all your little hidey-holes too,
Hayden thought with grim satisfaction.
By all means, keep showing me your secrets.

The Binders were much too large for Bonk’s legs—nearly large enough to circle his chest—but his father approached anyway and Hayden watched silently. The Dark Prism detached the scrap of paper from Bonk’s leg and set it aside without looking at it, before fastening one of the ridiculously-oversized Binders around each of Bonk’s legs.

As soon as the second one was closed, the lead contracted until the miniature cuffs fit snugly just above Bonk’s feet.

I’m an idiot,
Hayden shook himself out of his stupor.
Why did I let Bonk sacrifice his magic just to stay with me? Now we’re both useless and we’ll never be able to fight!

Well, Bonk still had his poison glands, but Cinder could cure the effects so it seemed like a useless tactic to employ.

Still, Hayden couldn’t bring himself to be upset with his familiar. He was ashamed by his cowardice, but mostly he was just glad to have company during his final days of life. He didn’t want to spend his remaining time alone and friendless in his father’s house.

Finally, his father picked up the scrap of paper, unfolded it, and briefly scanned the words on it. Hayden had no idea who it was from or what it said, and his father’s face gave no clue beyond a slight compression of the lips.

“What does it say?” Hayden asked when he thought his father was finished reading, wondering if the man would tell him.

In response, the Dark Prism tossed the scrap carelessly at him and turned back to his worktable, apparently finished with him for the evening. Curious, Hayden looked down at the note, written in the instantly-recognizable handwriting of Master Asher.

Let Hayden go, or I’ll bring the fight to you. This time I will win.

Hayden clenched the piece of paper in his fist, crumpling it in his hand. The last thing he wanted was for any of his friends or allies to die trying to save him, especially now that he knew that he wasn’t just here for his father’s amusement. The Dark Prism would never let him walk out of here alive; even if Hayden escaped, his father would hunt him down to the ends of the earth, because he was bound and determined to recover his Source.

“Are you going to write back and tell him ‘no?’ ” Hayden asked hopefully. Maybe if his father explained why he wouldn’t let him go, Asher would see the futility in trying to rescue him and would do the sensible thing.

Right,
Hayden almost snorted in amusement,
because Asher always does the sensible thing.

“He knows I will not,” his father replied without turning around. “Leave me.”

Deciding not to push his luck, Hayden backed out of the library, mostly because he didn’t like the idea of turning his back on a man who intended to kill him, even if he didn’t expect it to happen for some days or weeks—possibly months, if he got really lucky.

Bonk remained on his shoulder, looking around the house without interest as Hayden returned to the room he had claimed for himself, shutting and locking the door behind him. He knew that a locked door wasn’t going to stop his father from getting in if he decided to do so, but it still made him feel more secure.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said to Bonk, “even if it was dumb to give up your magic just so you can sit around and wait for me to die.” He began changing into some borrowed pajamas, climbing into bed and propping a few pillows beneath his head so he was semi-reclined.

Bonk hopped onto the other side of the bed and examined his Binders with obvious distaste.

“I guess I should tell you about my father’s plan for me…and why he tried to kill me when I was ten. I’ve learned a lot since I came here, which is about the only good thing that can be said about this whole ordeal.”

Bonk listened patiently as Hayden relayed everything that had happened since encountering his father at the Crystal Tower. It was nice to have someone to share it all with, even if Bonk couldn’t really answer back or ask any follow-up questions. On the other hand, he couldn’t be entirely sorry that none of his friends were here to talk to. At least he had managed to keep them out of this—especially Tess.

Despite his inability to speak, Bonk let his sentiments be known, looking angry or pacing from one end of the bed to the other whenever Hayden described his various near-death encounters with his father over the last couple days.

“Even Hattie and the others are counting on me to finish off my father so that they can go home free—assuming I can find a way past the barriers around this place once he’s gone,” Hayden frowned as a new thought struck him. “Hang on—what happens to a person’s spells when they die? Will his defenses still be active around the house or will they end too?”

Bonk didn’t answer, not that he really expected his familiar to have the answer. He couldn’t believe that in four years of magical education he had never thought to ask the question, but he hadn’t really planned on encountering this sort of thing until now.

I’m getting ahead of myself.

“Of course, none of this will matter unless I can overcome the minor problem of defeating the most powerful prism-user in the Nine Lands with nothing but my wit.” Hayden sighed. “At least if I had a decent prism I’d stand a chance—not a good one, mind you, but it would be better than trying to smother the man in his sleep with a pillow.”

Now it was Hayden’s turn to get out of bed and pace the room, burning off his pent-up energy, though he knew that as soon as he stopped moving he would probably collapse; exhaustion was hovering just behind the manic energy that was keeping him animated.

“Because I
will
die fighting, even if the only thing I can do is take my own life before he can pull my Source out of me,” Hayden continued, fueled with the conviction of someone who knew that his death was inevitable and necessary. “I won’t sit there like a scared little boy while he reclaims the rest of his power and all of mine. If my Foci weren’t damaged beyond imagination, I would be terrifyingly powerful as is. I can’t imagine what kind of horror the Dark Prism would be capable of with all of that power added to his own—and without warped Foci.”