The Other Prism (The Broken Prism) (30 page)

“Yes, we’ll need to heighten our security until the northern threat is subdued,” Master Willow sighed. “It seems that war is imminent, little though we need it right now.”

“That portal thing…” Hayden raised his hand as though in class.

“The oculus,” Asher corrected him calmly.

“Right. How does it work, and why did it bring those weird wargs to us?”

It was Master Kilgore who answered.
“An oculus allows you to create a window from one place to another, and is typically used for spying, though it sounds as though the sorcerer you encountered was attempting to enter the grounds through it. It’s very difficult to accomplish that, but not impossible.”

“We’re very lucky that Frost happened to be outside and equipped with a mastery-level prism when it appeared. If it
had been anyone with less willpower facing the sorcerer they would have lost,” Master Reede said.

“But how did the schism-
wargs come to us?” Tess asked quietly. “There shouldn’t be any schisms open around here.”

She clearly knew more about it than Hayden, who had no idea what a schism even was. His ignorance must have shown on his face, because Zane leaned over and whispered, “
Schisms are like cracks in our world, cracks that let you pass through to the other side.”

Alarmed, Hayden asked, “What’s on the other side of the world?”

“Magic has a price, you know this by now,” Master Asher said evenly. “The Law of Equivalence, our guiding principle. It also applies to the world itself. Every time you exert your will on the world, the inverse plane pays a price. Schisms occur when phenomenal amounts of magic collide at one point in space and the atmosphere can’t absorb it all. The one you opened was thankfully closed as soon as the schism-wargs jumped through. A stable schism can only be closed from the interior, which makes it much more difficult, so we got lucky.”

“So that’s why they looked so…wrong?” Hayden frowned thoughtfully.

“Yes, because they come from a world of anti-magic, a place that is constantly being plagued by the effects of our casting.”

Hayden shuddered at the thought of a place that could breed things like the schism-
warg. Every time he thought he understood magic and the way things worked, something came along to rattle him all over again.

Maybe I should stop assuming that I know anything.

“Well, we’d best get on with shielding the school. The Council will need to be informed as well.” Master Willow rose to his feet. “Thank you all for fighting for the school and making sure we weren’t caught defenseless. You’ll each be awarded a badge of valor to add to your collection of spoils.”

That seemed to be their dismissal
, so Hayden followed his friends upstairs to the third-year floor, his head still thumping painfully in time with his heartbeat. Tess bade them goodnight and turned into her room, while Zane and Hayden continued down the hall. Hayden settled his familiar onto his pillow and said, “Thanks, Bonk. I owe you again.”

Bonk flopped over onto his back and promptly fell asleep.

Zane glanced at Hayden and said, “Next time I suggest practicing conjury on the lawns, go ahead and remind me why it’s a bad idea.
On the bright side, we got loot to add to our collection of spoils.”

Hayden snorted and instantly regretted it, because it made his head hurt worse.

“I’m going to take a nap until my brain stops trying to explode. Wake me up if any more deadly killers or monsters show up.”

“You and Bonk will be first on my list of people to notify,” Zane agreed readily, and that was the last thing Hayden remembered before falling asleep.

16

Master
Kiresa

By the time school started the next morning, everyone seemed to know about the incident with the oculus and the schism-
wargs, as well as the fact that Zane, Tess, and Hayden were the three students who fought them. Hayden, who was used to all the attention by now, took it in stride whenever someone asked him to explain the battle for the umpteenth time, but Zane developed a horrible habit of grinning like an idiot when he was nervous, which was kind of unsettling.

“You k
now it scares people when you smile while talking about how horrible the attack was, right?” Hayden couldn’t resist the urge to tease him over lunch, since Zane almost always had the upper-hand on him at school.

“Shut up, I can’t help it,” he grumbled mutinously, mashing his turnips with vigor. “I don’t know why I keep grinning about it—it was terrifying! But you have to admit, I’m doing better than poor Tess.”

Hayden frowned and scanned the dining hall for her, but she wasn’t there. Unfortunately, Zane was correct. Tess, who was shy by nature, had reacted to all the attention by turning bright red, stammering incoherently, and then running away. Hayden hadn’t seen her since breakfast, which annoyed him for some reason.

Zane read his frustration and said, “You could go look for her. She’s probably sitting in her room, waiting for classes to resume. I’ll bet you co
uld talk her out of there.”

“Why would I have better luck than her three roommates did? I wouldn’t even know what to say,” Hayden frowned.

He could have sworn he heard Zane snort in amusement, but when he looked over his friend was coughing into a napkin, claiming to have choked on his turnips.

“You’re right,” Zane set the
napkin down, looking oddly entertained given that he’d just choked on his food. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Things didn’t die down for nearly two weeks. It was only as the penultimate round of the I.S.C. approached that the subject of gossip and speculation switched over to the trials at Isenfall, and what they were likely to entail.

Hayden began to get nervous once again at the thought of facing Davis in battle, and felt a little queasy anytime someone brought up the subject of the up
coming competition. He supposed if he lost too badly that he could use the same excuse as everyone else and claim that his powers had abandoned him by some sort of magical interference.

The night before the
third trial brought him no sleep at all. He rose from bed before the sun came up, walked calmly into the hallway, and vomited all over the floor. Even Bonk pulled a face at the sight of it, and flew away from him to go hunting on his own while Hayden looked for something to clean up the puddle of sick.

He had no idea why he was so nervous this time around, other than dreading the prospect of facing off against Davis in his home territory.
He knew he should be comforted by the thought that even if he failed out of the competition before the finals, at least he had made it this far and people probably wouldn’t laugh at him, but even that made him feel queasy right now.

He donned his Team Mizzenwald robes and joined his remaining three teammates in the dining hall for a quick breakfast before they left. He was mildly comforted by the fact that they still had four of their five team members in the competition, so at least he wouldn’t be at
Isenfall alone. Even Oliver’s presence was a relief at this point.

Isenfall
was located in the center of the southern continent, near the border of Minir and Hazenvale. Being accustomed to mountains and forests in the eastern lands, Hayden was stunned when they were translocated to a flat expanse of grass that looked endless.

The cas
tle wasn’t terribly different than Mizzenwald, other than being several levels taller to accommodate the larger population of students. The other main difference between the castle at Isenfall and the one at Mizzenwald was that this one was made of black obsidian. The grounds seemed to stretch on endlessly in all directions, not a road or a town in sight, which also seemed weird to Hayden.

Fortunately they had
translocated near the school itself, saving them a long walk, and Reya voiced the question Hayden was thinking and asked, “Does all of this land belong to the school?”

Oliver glanced around for a moment and then said, “I don’t think so, but I’m not sure where the b
oundaries are. My mother said that Isenfall has a lot more land than the other schools, which is why they can have horseback riding and games of hand-ball without all bumping into each other.”

They entered the castle through the front door and were surprised to find the Prism Master of Isenfall waiting to greet them. A tall man in his late thirties, he wore the circlet that Master Asher said was used primarily for combat: three prisms were loaded into it, with a fourth stacked on the second tier, all of which were currently pointed upwards at the ceiling as they rested on top of his head. Remembering what Asher said about how heavy the entire thing was, Hayden had no idea why the Prism Master would choose to wear it casually.

His dark brown eyes took in Hayden at a glance, and then the others.

He’s a natural Prism; he has the six slots on his belt for them.

“Team Mizzenwald, here at last,” he greeted them, folding his arms across his chest like he was preparing to scold them all.

“Are we late? We just got our translocation about five minutes ago,” Oliver raised an eyebrow in surprise.

The Prism Master
ignored his question and led them away from the main entrance and around to a much less conspicuous door on one side of the foyer. Hayden couldn’t help but feel like they were being kept deliberately out of the main part of the school. The corridor was narrow and dark, more like a utility passage than a hallway, and they stopped in front of a nondescript wooden door after only a few dozen steps.

“Powders, in here.”
The Prism Master pointed without enthusiasm, eyes flickering towards Hayden ever-so-briefly as he spoke.

“Excuse me, Master…” Oliver started.

“Kiresa,” the Prism Master supplied.

“
…Master Kiresa, why are we being segregated by major before the opening feast has begun?”

The Prism Master looked genuinely surprised by the question, and said, “This is the penultimate trial. We all know who you are by now. The trials will commence shortly.”

And with that, he waited for Oliver to disappear into the room before shutting and locking the door behind him with the use of his green prism. None of them commented on the strange behavior, though the three of them exchanged glances behind the Prism Master’s back. Hayden’s heart beat harder as they continued in what felt like a wide, sweeping circle around the interior of the school, never leaving the service passage. They dropped off Reya and then Darren, until Hayden found himself alone with the Prism Master of Isenfall, mentor of one of his least favorite people in the Nine Lands. He had the feeling that this wasn’t a coincidence.

They walked in silence for a minute before Hayden said, “Why aren’t you taking us through the school? This can’t be the quickest way to get to all of the assembly rooms, sir.”

Master Kiresa spared him a fleeting glance before responding. “We go to great lengths to protect the secrets of our castle from outsiders, and Mizzenwald has been known to send spies.”

That was news to Hayden, who couldn’t imagine any of his teachers asking him to spy on the mages of
Isenfall during a challenge.

“You’re a natural P
rism,” Hayden changed the subject.

“As are you, Hayden Frost.”
The Prism Master fell silent for a moment before adding, “I assume that Asher Masters is mentoring you?”

“That’s right. I suppose
you’re mentoring Davis?”

“That would be a safe assumption.”

“Have you been training him to be a ruthless jerk, or does he come by that naturally?” He couldn’t entirely suppress his irritation.

“I suppose you want him to roll over and concede defeat before the trial even starts? Coddle you, as Asher surely does, so that you can feel good about yourself?” The man stopped walking and turned to face him. “It may surprise you to hear this, but the
world doesn’t exist to serve the whims of the Frosts. That was a lesson your father could have stood to remember as well.”

“Wait, you mean you’re prejudiced against me because you hated my father? Shocking, you’re the first one to ever say that,” he answered sarcastically
, his jitters getting the better of him. “And I’m not saying that Davis should just give up, but he could at least fight fair.”

Kiresa
ignored his sarcasm and said, “There is no fairness in combat. You use any and all means necessary to win against an opponent, and if you succeed, then you are worthy of the victory.”

“Even at the cost of your self-respect?”
Hayden asked in surprise. “What does that make you when it’s all said and done, and you’re sitting around with your hollow victory?”

“It makes you the winner,”
Kiresa answered simply. “History always hails the winners as heroes, while the losers are condemned or forgotten. Consider it a free lesson, one you’re not likely to hear from your own mentor.”

“Thank heavens for that,” Hayden mumbled, reachi
ng for the doorknob that led to the holding room for the prism-users. Before he opened it, he turned back to the Prism Master and added, “If you really believe what you said, then you should have been great pals with my father. After all, he was winning for ten years.”

Master
Kiresa looked intrigued, betraying the first hint of a smile since Hayden had met him.

“Perhaps I
was
friends with him, once.”

That took Hayden by surprise;
few people admitted an acquaintance with the Dark Prism so casually.

“Then what changed?”

“He lost his war, thanks to you.” The man’s dark eyes seemed to burn holes into him, alight with interest. “Now you are the one everyone is waiting to see dethroned. It will be interesting to see who finally manages it.”

Hayden suppressed a shudder and opened the wooden door, eager to escape this ominous conversation with
the Prism Master. Unfortunately he followed Hayden inside to address them as a group.

As there were only three of them left in the competition, it was hard to avoid sitting near Davis without looking like he was intimidated. For the first time in Hayden’s memory, his nemesis didn’t look smug or confident. He looked high-strung and a bit queasy.

Is Davis actually nervous?

After meeting the Prism Master of
Isenfall, Hayden could guess why. If Davis lost to Hayden in front of his mentor, the man was likely to torment him relentlessly. Hayden had never appreciated Master Asher more than in this moment, because while he had certainly been uncomfortable or unsure around his mentor before, he had never feared him.

“The three o
f you will be competing in the third competition of the day, following Elixirs and Wands. Hand over your prisms for inspection, and once I’ve verified that they are acceptable, we will go outside.”

He inspected Davis and Marc’s prisms very quickly, but spent much longer on Hayden’s, as though determined to find a defect. Finally, he handed them back and pronounced himself satisfied, opening the door and motioning for them to follow him back into the service corridor.

“Are we allowed to watch the other trials?” Hayden thought it best to ask permission, since the Masters of Isenfall seemed really twitchy about outsiders being in their school.

“You may, but you must remain in the designated viewing areas at all times,” Master
Kiresa answered, passing through a door that led directly outside. Most of the school was already assembling in a large circle around part of the lawn, which was currently filled with cauldrons and flasks. There was a row of chairs right in the front that were clearly reserved for the Masters and foreign competitors.

The Prism Master moved closer to Davis as the g
roup cut a path through the crowd to reach the designated seating area. Hayden heard Kiresa’s quiet voice ask, “Are you still feeling ill?”

Trying to look as though he couldn’t hear, Hayden did his best to tune out the sounds of the crowd and focus on what Davis and his mentor were saying to each other.

“Yes,” the former admitted. “I don’t know what it is, but I can’t seem to shake it. It’s been nearly a week now.” He sounded unnerved.

“It can’t possibly be nerves at the prospect of fighting the Frost boy?” The Prism Master sounded almost sardonic.

“I’m not nervous about fighting
him
,” Davis snapped, sounding disgusted by the implication. “I’m just not feeling well, that’s all.”

“Then I trust you will not allow something as trifling as an autumn cold to interfere with your magic,” Master
Kiresa said dangerously. “If you were to repeat the embarrassing lack of control you displayed yesterday in class, it would reflect most poorly on the both of us.”