The Other Prism (The Broken Prism) (7 page)

Hayden couldn’t believe it had only been fifteen minutes; it had felt like hours. He also felt strangely cold and anxious at the thought of being such an anomaly, because he didn’t want all the attention he was constantly getting
, and now he’d gone and invited more of it. He shivered convulsively as they turned onto the fifth-floor landing.

“I didn’t know how long the others would hold out
, and I couldn’t look without dropping my weight. If I had known the average would be four or five minutes, I would have stopped sooner.” His mind was processing things slower than usual and he just recalled an earlier point of Zane’s. “And what do you mean the Masters were getting freaked out?”

Zane was half-carrying him past the common area and towards their room when he answered.

“Because you’re wearing three-inch Focus-correctors, the biggest in the documented history of magic, and you’ve still got triple the endurance of fully-trained wizards without even trying.” He marveled at Hayden. “Your Source must be ridiculously huge, and by huge I mean legendary.”

Hayden felt a strange mixture of pride and shame, because it was just one more thing that made him an outcast, even as accomplished as it made him feel. There would be time to mull over his feelings in more detail
later, but right now all he wanted was to sleep for a week or two until he regained some energy.

He collapsed face-first onto his bed, hearing Bonk squawk as the
dragonling was crushed beneath him, but too tired to roll off of him. He was asleep before Zane could even shut the door.

4

Strength of Will

It was after dinner when Hayden woke up feeling warm and comfortable. He yawned drowsily and rolled onto his back, slightly alarmed to find that Bonk had been squished beneath him this entire time, though the
dragonling couldn’t have been too bothered by it because he was sound asleep. Bonk stirred and flapped his wings once or twice while Hayden attempted to massage a kink out of his own neck from lying in one position for so long.

Upon discovering that he was alone in the room
, Hayden realized that he had just blown an entire day worth of downtime by sleeping. Thinking grimly of how much homework he still had to do before Gerin, he forced himself out of bed in the pursuit of food. He caught his sleepy reflection in passing and scowled at the creases etched into his face from the bed sheets.

Bonk was clearly itching to get some exercise
, opting to fly rather than sit on Hayden’s shoulder for a change. He soared overhead near the upper floors as Hayden went downstairs and turned into the main foyer. Hayden stopped here, because the familiar walls of the pentagonal foyer now bore five official-looking sheets of golden paper near the entrance to the grounds. He had a feeling that he knew what those papers were…

Sure enough, as he moved closer he could read the heading of the major arcana on each one, his eyes scann
ing quickly to find the only list that mattered to him. There it was, the Prisms roster, the last sheet of paper on the right. His name headed a short list:

Prisms

Speed             
             
Endurance
                  
Total

Hayden Frost
                       9                                          11                            20

Oliver Trout
                                     6                                          7                            13

Kevin
Serilla                                     5                                          6                            11

Andric Scott
                                     5                                          5                            10

Cindy
Olterra                    4                                          5                            9

Hayden read the scores several times until he was confident that he’d memorized them. Zane hadn’t been joking when he said that Hayden was crushing the others; for the second time in two years he had managed to score an eleven on a ten-point scale, which was previously unheard of. Cindy and Andric wouldn’t be able to beat him at this point unless they got perfect scores tomorrow and he put up zeroes.

Feeling a competitive streak that he hadn’t been aware of before, Hayden smiled and turned towards the dining hall, tilting his head back to look for Bonk in the high-ceilinged foyer. The
dragonling was perched at the edge of the crown-molding almost three stories above him, looking like a gargoyle. Hayden whistled and the dragon came floating down to him, though he continued to fly around the corridors instead of perching.

I’ve just got to stay ahead of Oliver and I’ll have this thing in the bag.

He wasn’t sure when his attitude towards the Inter-School Championship had changed, but Master Asher’s advice to him about making valuable connections and earning his own reputation had struck a chord in him at some point, and now he was determined to do his best.

He opened the double doors and was confronted with the sight of an empty
dining hall. The lack of people made the space seem much larger, and Hayden’s footsteps echoed eerily off of the wooden floor as he walked around the tables and knocked on the door to the kitchens.

A
young woman in her thirties with short, curly brown hair and bright green eyes answered, a cooking apron still tied over her dress.

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Um, yes please. I missed dinner and I was hoping there was still something to eat.”

She eyed Hayden skeptically and opened the door a little wider so that she could lean against the frame.

“And how will you earn it?”

Hayden’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Uh…what do you mean?”

“Why should I go to special effort to feed you for no reason?” She looked at him like he was being stupid.

“Because I’m hungry and you’re a cook?”

The lady scowled. “It’s not my fault you missed dinner. If you want me to go out of my way to make you something to eat you’ve got to earn it, or else you can just wait until breakfast like everyone else.”

Hayden’s stomach growled mutinously.

“What do I have to do?”

She shrugged. “Something interesting. You’re a prism-user, surely you can make something pretty and dazzle me with magic.”

Hayden tried to think through his list of spells for something that looked “interesting”. Unfor
tunately the only ones he knew were functional, not dazzling; he doubted she’d been impressed if he tried to suspend her in mid-air. Master Asher could probably make one of his crystal butterflies in the blink of an eye, but he hadn’t taught Hayden anything flashy like that yet.

“I don’t really know any magic that’s fun to watch…” he frowned, his stomach growling again.

“How about poetry? I like poems.”

Hayden answered this with a resounding silence.

“Are you any good at making up poetry?” she tried again, obviously under the impression he hadn’t understood her the first time.

Why in the world would I be good at poetry?!

Hayden clenched his jaw to prevent himself from saying that out loud and getting in trouble. All he wanted was something to eat, was that so much to ask?

“I’
ve never tried before,” he admitted.

“Well
, try now,” she pressed him, smirking at his discomfort.

Closing his eyes and praying for inspiration
, he began:

“There once was a boy named Frost,

Who was hungry enough to eat an
ox.

The cook wanted to see magic,

But his poem was tragic,

And now he fears all is lost.”

The cook suppressed a snort with difficulty.

“That was really awful,” she agreed cheerfully. “Not even worth a loaf of stale bread.”

Before Hayden could resort to begging, Bonk grew tired of flying around the dining hall and alit upon his shoulder. The cook’s eyes immediately went to the dragon and widened with obvious delight.

“Is that your familiar?” She was eyeing him approvingly.

“Yes, this is Bonk,” Hayden said calmly, sensing a new opportunity. “Would you like to hold him?”

“Ooh yes,” she beamed at him.

“Promise to feed us and you can,” he countered, expecting resistance. To his surprise
, she agreed immediately and went off to get him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and some soup.

I should have thought of Bonk sooner.
Hayden had yet to encounter a girl of any age who could resist the urge to fawn over his familiar.

Hayden sat on a stool near the black soapstone countertop and ate his food while the cook cooed over Bonk.

“Where are all the other cooks and cleaners right now?” Hayden assumed it was safe to ask questions now that he had his food in hand.

The young woman answered him without looking away from Bonk, “Dinner ended an hour ago so they’ve all gone. It’s my night to work late in case anyone needs something before lights-out.”

She began to offer his familiar tiny bits of raw lamb meat while Hayden downed his sandwich, attempting to unstick the peanut butter from the roof of his mouth with his tongue.

“How come you’re so interested in Bonk? He’s not the first or only dragon here at Mizzenwald…” Hayden began again, turning to the soup. “You must’ve seen
Slasher or Cinder by now.”

The cook pursed her lips at the mention of the others.

“Well of
course
I’ve seen them, from a distance, but dragons are such proud, stuck-up creatures that they usually only let their masters touch them. Slasher hisses and gets mean when anyone else comes near him and Cinder shoots fire at people he doesn’t like. Yours is the only dragon who lets other people handle him.”

Hayden was absolutely stunned by that bit of news
, since Bonk loved to be fawned over by anyone who was interested. Now that he thought about it more closely, he couldn’t remember ever seeing Oliver’s dragon allow anyone else near him, and Cinder didn’t seem to like being touched in general, because he rarely saw the dark-purple dragonling interact with anyone, preferring the company of other magical creatures or solitude.

“Oh, then I guess Bonk is just very socia
ble for a dragon…” Hayden conceded. “Torin told me from the beginning that he was pretty odd for his kind, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Bonk licked her
face and the cook broke out in peals of girlish laughter and insisted on fixing Hayden some dessert as well.

He was halfway through his ice cream sundae when he fe
lt the reassuring weight of a dragon perching on his shoulder. Hayden, who was busy trying to cram half a brownie into his mouth in one bite, reached up with his free hand and patted his familiar out of habit. The cook was still hugging Bonk like he was a stuffed animal, though the latter didn’t seem to mind.

Wait a minute…

It took Hayden a few seconds to realize that something was off.

If Bonk is over there…
what just landed on my shoulder?

He twisted his neck and startled at the sight of Cinder there, looking haughty and regal on Hayden’s shoulder while he surveyed his counterpart with mild distaste.

“Cinder? What are you doing here?” Hayden had no idea why he was asking the dragon for an answer he didn’t expect to receive. Cinder surveyed him imperiously but was otherwise unresponsive, and Bonk escaped the cook’s arms and took flight to perch on Hayden’s other shoulder as soon as he realized he had competition.

Feeling extremely crowded by tiny magical dragons, Hayden turned towards the door just as Master Asher walked into the kitchen.

“Oh good, Cinder found you,” the Prism Master greeted him. “Shoulders feeling a bit heavy?”

Hayden smiled helplessly and Asher snapped his fingers to summon Cinder back to him. Hayden felt a moment of pressure as the dragon took flight and soared over to his master.

“I don’t know why he perched on me, but I think it made Bonk jealous because he came back as soon as he saw.”

Master Asher smirked in amuseme
nt. “Cinder must be fond of you, a rarity as he’s fairly choosy about people.” He glanced at the cook and his expression brightened. “Ah, Marisa, lovely to see you.”

The cook colored slightly and pursed her lips at the Prism Master before promptly ignoring him and turning to Hayden. “If you’re done eating
then you’d best be on your way.”

Hayden hadn’t quite finished his brownie sundae but decided it was best not to overstay his welcome
, so he followed Master Asher out of the kitchen and back into the dining hall.

“What in the world did you do to make all the
cooks hate you?” Hayden asked once they were out of earshot of the kitchen.

Master Asher chuckled. “Marisa doesn’t hate
me, she’s just annoyed with me at the moment.” He abruptly changed the subject before Hayden could comment. “I didn’t see you at dinner and wanted to make sure you weren’t lying in an unconscious heap somewhere in need of help. It can be easy to overexert yourself and you looked dead on your feet the last time I saw you.”

“Oh, I’m alright. I was just really tired after tryouts and didn’t wake up until a few minutes ago.”

“I assume you had a chance to check out the posted scores in the Pentagon?”

Hayden nodded. “Why did you give me an eleven on the endurance? I know I lasted longer than anyone else
, but elevens are supposed to be impossible to achieve.”

The Prism Master gave him a measured look.

“I am beginning to see that there are many impossible things about you, Hayden,” he explained slowly. “I don’t know anyone else who would be capable of casting at full strength for fifteen minutes straight at your age, much less with such heavy correction on your Foci.”

“But
you’re
much more powerful than me…” Hayden insisted.

“That’s because I’m thirty-one years old and you’re thirteen. Sure, I can cast at f
ull power for close to an hour before I’m over-fatigued, but I’ve been practicing for many years and didn’t have any Focus-correction for most of it. That being said, I’ve also got a fairly impressive Source even compared to other mages my age.”