Quest Maker (16 page)

Caden was aware. “He's already explained that to me.”

Jasan's face darkened. “Has he, now?”

He pulled up his sleeve. “See for yourself.”

Jasan inspected the wound and set his mouth into a tight line. Likely, he was planning Rath Dunn's demise. “He did this with that dagger of his?”

At least Caden now had his attention. He needed to convince Jasan they had to be unified against Rath Dunn. He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket. “There is something I need to ask you. It's about Rath Dunn. He knows details about our family that I didn't tell him.” Caden took a deep breath. “And I overheard him say something else troubling.” He explained about Tito's recording. “Listen.”

He played the audio file just as Tito had showed him. Jasan wouldn't understand the words—the villains tended to keep to English in Asheville—but he'd recognize Rath Dunn's voice. “He speaks to the lunch witch. She's a master of ritual magic.”

Jasan peered at the phone. “What are they saying?”

Caden translated. He hesitated as he got to the part about himself. “He said he already promised me to my
brother.” His voice cracked. “Who is he talking about?”

Jasan's face was turning red. He gripped the counter behind him so tightly Caden expected it to crumble under his touch. But it didn't. “Maybe he's talking about me. Did you consider that?”

“I did,” Caden said truthfully. Jasan had saved Tonya. He'd been surprised to discover Rath Dunn in this happy Land of Shadow. Jasan wouldn't kill Chadwin. Sir Horace wouldn't visit a traitor. Wherever Rath Dunn was getting information, it wasn't from Jasan. Nor was it Caden or Brynne. Caden held his brother's gaze. He had to sound sure. “I know it's not you.”

Jasan gritted his teeth, then pushed away from him. He clenched and unclenched his fists as if wanting to hit a memory. “You're the only one who thinks that.”

Caden could tell Jasan's control of his temper was reaching its limit. “Then we'll have to show the others they are wrong,” Caden said. “If it takes years, so be it. I'm alive, that's proof enough.” In the following silence, Caden heard the rumble of engines as cars parked in the spaces out front. The refrigerator hummed. What was it his counselor had said? “People make mistakes. Father will realize that soon. The Greater Realm Council will—”

Jasan released a harsh, hurt-sounding laugh, and his quick temper seemed to spike like a raging kiln fire. He grabbed Caden's shoulders and pushed him against the refrigerator. The door was cold against his back. “I don't
care what Father realizes now, Caden. And the Greater Realm Council doesn't admit mistakes. My portrait will hang in the Hall of Infamy beside the likes of Rath Dunn. Do you understand at all? There is no going back for me.”

Jasan was hurt. He was lashing out. He'd no real gift with words, other than to spew them out quickly and without much thought.

“You're wrong,” Caden said.

Whatever was happening was part of something terrible, something that was interconnecting in horrible and unknown ways.

Caden pulled away. “Rath Dunn wants your blood. Maybe he's communicating somehow with the Greater Realm.” He shifted on his feet. The words came out shaky. “If you didn't . . .” Caden couldn't say “Kill Chadwin.” Not out loud. He just couldn't. He looked back up. “If you didn't do what they said, and you're not the brother he promised me to . . . who is?”

Jasan turned back to him. He looked troubled.

“I'm unsure.”

The night before Chadwin was killed, Caden and his brothers had gathered with their father in the Great Hall. The table was forged from giant bluebirch, one large and smooth piece of wood that stretched across the room. The imperial Winterbird was engraved into the tabletop and inlaid in gold and silver metals. The table legs looked like wings.

King Axel sat at the table's head in a chair finished in dark velvets, at the place of honor. Valon, Caden's first-born brother, sat to the king's right. Second-born Maden to his left. Then sixth-born Chadwin beside Valon, and seventh-born Jasan beside Maden. The others, third-born Lucian, fourth-born Martin, and fifth-born Landon, were on a diplomatic mission to the Summerlands. Caden sat beside Jasan.

They were quiet, so Caden told them of how he'd spoken to a rock spirit in the garden.

Maden, the size of a small frost giant and with hair the color of straw, chuckled. “Rock spirits don't speak.”

He was wrong, of course. “Rock spirits don't speak the common or royal tongues. But they do speak, they are sentient.” Caden kept Maden's gaze. “The one in the garden wanted to be chipped into two.”

“It doesn't sound so bright,” Maden said.

“It wanted a twin.”

Valon, first born, peered at Caden. Of all Caden's brothers, he looked most like their father. His hair was dark blond, his build powerful. His brow always seemed creased with worry. Caden had never seen him laugh, and Caden caught his attention even less than he caught their father's. Now Valon looked at him with a calculating expression. “His gift seems particularly strong.” Then he looked at the king. “We should utilize all our assets, Father.”

It was rare that any of Caden's brothers did more than tease him about his gift of speech, and his gift seemed to
make their father uncomfortable. Caden sat up straighter. True, he could translate anything spoken to him.

Maden chuckled. “Hmm,” he said, “we may wish to talk to the garden rocks.”

Caden frowned. That was a more typical response.

Valon seemed unperturbed. “Such an ability has its uses.”

The king raised his hand. They quieted immediately. “Caden's your brother; he's not an asset,” he said. “Remember that.”

Caden, however, had no qualms with being a useful asset. His life goal was to be an Elite Paladin like his older brothers, to slay dragons and defend the king and kingdom. Being useful would only help him with that goal. “I can be both,” Caden said.

Valon nodded. “I agree.”

Jasan leaned forward. “I don't.”

Chadwin looked at Valon and Maden and Jasan with a strange expression. He'd been watching them like that often in recent days. “Nor do I,” Chadwin said. “He's barely twelve turns.”

“He's sitting here,” Caden said, “and he's capable enough.”

Chadwin turned to him and smiled. “Of course,” he said. “And when you are older we can serve the kingdom together. But for now, you are still too young, little brother.”

Only Chadwin ever called him little brother. It always
caught Caden off guard, and made his cheeks flush and his heart twist. All he wanted was to be useful. To be an Elite Paladin, like his heroic brothers.

Chadwin turned toward the king. “Don't you agree, Father?”

King Axel surveyed the group. “Caden will concentrate on his studies and his riding,” their father said. Then he turned to Caden. “And he'll also stop talking to rocks.”

That had been the last night all his brothers had been alive. The next morning, Chadwin was dead. And Caden would never serve with him.

Caden looked at Jasan. In Rath Dunn's taunts about a traitorous brother, he'd never specified Jasan. Caden had five more surviving brothers. Chadwin had trusted them all. No matter what he'd suspected, it wouldn't have been a dagger in the back.

If Jasan was innocent, and if Rath Dunn were to be believed, one of Caden's other brothers was guilty. But that night, Caden's three middle brothers had been away. The only ones who could've turned traitor were Valon, first born, or Maden, second born.

Caden heard a bird happily chirping outside the window. Slowly, Caden gathered his courage. He said what he didn't want to say. “Valon and Maden were there that night. They were there that morning. And they've both seen my favorite sword enough times to have a similar one made.”

Jasan said nothing. He never made anything easy.

Caden couldn't bring himself to ask if Valon or Maden had killed Chadwin. Instead, he asked something that likely meant the same thing. “Could one of them have framed you?”

“I don't know,” Jasan said.

Caden raised a brow. Jasan did know. Caden knew it. It was time to accept that one of their loved ones was a traitor, was capable of
fratricide
. It was time to say it aloud.

“It is no accident it was you who was framed,” he said slowly. “It is your blood Rath Dunn needs—the blood of the seventh-born son—and someone made sure you were sent here so he could get it. Someone was communicating with him. There is a traitor in our family.”

“And?” Jasan said.

This wasn't so hard to understand. Caden threw up his palms. “And we need to warn Father, and Lucian, and Martin, and Landon, and whoever else doesn't know.”

Jasan leaned forward. “Lucian, Martin, and Landon aren't my concern. Nor is the king.”

“It's your duty to protect them and to protect the kingdom,” Caden said.

“Not anymore.” He grabbed one of his candy bars from the counter like he was going to eat it. “Don't ask me to protect those who sentenced me to death for killing my own brother.”

“They've been tricked,” Caden insisted. Their father
would have never banished Jasan otherwise. “Do you want Lucian or Martin or Landon to die like Chadwin? Do you want Father to die?” If Jasan wouldn't protect the kingdom, he'd still protect them. “We're family.”

“Again—not anymore.”

That wasn't true. Jasan couldn't say that. Caden felt his insides knot. “Always.”

When Jasan looked mad enough to punch someone, he often hit the wall. There were holes throughout the Winter Castle's lower training room—fist marks that crushed right into the stone. He looked that angry now.

The punches came with words, not fists. “No one considers you family except Father,” Jasan said.

Caden felt his body start to shake. “Chadwin did.”

“Not really.”

It was as if Caden really had been hit in the eye with a sparring mop. He reeled back. Some of Jasan's anger seemed to drain. “I didn't mean . . .”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Someone was at the door. Like Ward had said, Jasan made no move to open it. At the castle, a servant or guard would have done so. Maybe Jasan didn't understand how doors worked since there had always been someone to open them for him.

Caden remained against the refrigerator. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and he felt acid drip on his tongue. “But they know I'd never betray them.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The knocker was at the window now. It was Rosa. She stood outside among the flowers, peering inside at him. She looked a little worried, a lot furious, and was at least two hours early to pick them up. That couldn't be good. Caden wasn't sure he could take anyone else being upset with him today. But he didn't want to be in this kitchen any longer.

Caden hadn't told Jasan of the quest. How would Jasan respond if he did? Maybe he'd say he didn't care if they both died. Maybe he'd lock Caden away and attack Ms. Primrose. If Jasan did that, he'd be devoured. They'd both be. Caden wasn't sure which scenario was worse. He turned away.

“I've got to go,” Caden said.

Jasan started to reach out to stop him but then didn't. “I don't care about any rules. I don't care if I'm eaten. Stay away from me.”

Caden almost said, “I don't care if you're eaten either” and “I also don't consider you family.” He wanted to say that. He wanted to say many things. But he didn't. He couldn't. A future Elite Paladin was always honest.

R
osa trampled a yellow daisy as she came to meet Caden on the front step. Her pickup was parked in the space in front of Ward's house. Brynne, Tito, and Jane were in the truck's backseat. Jane and Brynne were watching. Both looked shamed, although he guessed Brynne was faking it. Tito was between them with his hands pressed to his cheeks. Ward's mother stood on the sidewalk.

“You're early,” Caden said.

At that point, Jasan came outside. Rosa looked at Jasan. She stared for an instant. Then she reached for Caden's arm and nodded to Jasan. “Who's this?” she said in English at the same time Jasan said it in Royal Razzon.

Desirae spoke up. “He's a new teacher at the school.”

Maybe she did know Manglor was from another realm. Maybe she knew Caden, Brynne, and Jasan were as well.
From the way she'd jumped into the conversation, he suspected it.

Rosa looked between Caden and Jasan. Was there any family resemblance? Jasan looked like the first queen. Caden had a different mother, but there were similarities—same nose, same-shaped eyes.

Caden pulled away and glared back at Jasan. He should say Jasan was his half brother. But what did it matter? Jasan wouldn't understand his words anyway. Looking back at Rosa, he said, “He's my brother. He's been banished for crimes he didn't commit.”

Instead of grimacing or telling Caden to stop with his stories, Rosa seemed sad. “Get in the truck, Caden,” she said.

He started to move forward, but Jasan grabbed the back of his horse T-shirt and stopped him. “I asked you a question,” Jasan said in Royal Razzon. “Who is this person?”

Caden jerked from his grasp and answered in the royal tongue. “Someone who does consider me family,” he said.

Rosa reached out and pulled Caden to her. “Don't grab him like that.” She looked at Jasan with blatant suspicion. “What language is that? How do you know Caden?”

“He doesn't understand English,” Caden said to Rosa. To Jasan, he said, “She's my guardian in this strange land.” Then, in English, he added, “He's speaking Royal Razzon.”

Jasan glared at her. Rosa glared back but didn't seem to know what to think.

Desirae laughed nervously.

It seemed Jasan had had enough. “Just go, Caden.” His voice seemed to crack on the name. “Keep away from me.” He went inside. A moment later, the front door of his picturesque yellow town house locked with a click. It seemed he did know how to work the door after all.

“What did he say?” Rosa said.

“He said to leave.”

Caden looked at the pickup. In the backseat, Brynne pointed at Rosa, then made a face like she was screaming in fear. As if Rosa sensed it, she turned. Immediately, Brynne closed her mouth, closed her eyes, and sank back into her seat. Caden began to think they were in great trouble with their foster mother, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go home with her.

“Then let's leave,” Rosa said. “Now.”

Maybe this wasn't a time to be rebellious. Although not cursed for another day, Caden complied. “As you wish,” he said, trudging to the pickup and climbing in the passenger seat.

Rosa remained outside for a moment. She seemed to be apologizing to Ward's mother and kept motioning to the truck. By the yellow town house's front window, Jasan peeked through his curtains, eating a candy bar, his gaze moving from Rosa to Caden to Brynne in the backseat.

Brynne leaned forward. “He looks upset.”

“You took his chocolate.” Caden buckled his seat belt.
“And he's been banished.” Although he was as upset as he'd ever been with his brother, Brynne should know Jasan wasn't a traitor. In a small voice, he added, “They think he killed Chadwin. He's innocent, though.”

“Of course,” she said. “Rath Dunn wants his blood. That's why he's here. Prince Jasan is honorable and brave.” Then she smiled. “He's looking at me, too.”

Caden was tired of her talking about Jasan. He didn't want to hear it.

Having the gift of speech wasn't all about speaking languages and charming people. It was about knowing what to say to get the desired response. Right now, Caden wanted Brynne to stop talking about his brother. He turned to her. “If he finds out you cursed me, he'll be furious.”

Her smile faded. “Don't tell him, then,” she said. Brynne was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “He's especially protective of you.”

“Not really.”

Jane had been looking out the window. “Rosa's coming back,” she warned.

Brynne glanced out, biting her bottom lip as she saw Jasan. “It's just—” She twisted her hands together. “Look, prince, he might get really angry if he finds out. . . .”

“I suspect so.”

She took a deep breath. “Don't tell him. He'll never forgive me, Caden,” Brynne said. “For doing that to you.”

“I suspect he won't.”

Rosa was standing beside the driver's door. She had her head down like she was breathing deeply and counting.

“Please,” Brynne said.

Rosa was opening the door.

Brynne quickly added, “Don't tell him. Not until I've fixed it. I'll break the curse or destroy the moon. I'll figure something out. I promise. Please.”

Rosa didn't say much when she got in the car. Nor did she look at them. When Caden opened his mouth to speak, she held up her hand. “I don't want to hear a word until we're home.”

Caden wasn't sure why she was so mad. People would often answer a question when asked even if they didn't want to do so. “Why?” he said.

Rosa, however, was of strong mind. She didn't answer. Someone in the back kicked his seat. From the arrangement of people behind him, it was likely Jane this time. Which meant the kick was a warning, not an idle tease.

When they pulled up to Rosa's house, Officer Levine's patrol car was parked in the drive. He and Jenkins stood on the porch. They were in full uniform. An official visit, it seemed.

Rosa put the truck into park. “Inside. On the couch. All of you.”

This was a bad development.

They squeezed on the green interrogation couch—Jane on the flank, Tito and Caden in the middle, then Brynne
on the other side. Brynne was leaning back and closing her eyes. Feigning sleep was her typical strategy when in trouble.

Jane looked worried, and she grabbed Tito's hand. Tito was bouncing his leg up and down, up and down, in an unconscious tic. He looked like he might be sick at any moment.

They should worry less. Rosa's punishments consisted of long talks and reduced computer and phone privileges. Her punishments were nothing like the fiery flogging of the Autumnlands, or the hard and often bloody labor of the elvish ruby mines. Her punishments were unpleasant, not torture.

Well, Rosa's disappointment might amount to torture for Tito. Tito didn't seem to understand Rosa would never send him away. Caden believed Rosa loved Tito most of all of them. Not that Tito could see it.

Rosa stood in front of them. She wore a green camouflage top and a long yellow skirt. There was nothing happy in her expression. Officer Levine stood beside her, but his expression had more compassion. Jenkins stood to the right with a tablet.

Officer Levine sighed. “There was a break-in at your school last night.”

Tito flinched, and Caden saw Jane squeeze his hand.

Rosa peered at them, each in turn. Her gaze paused on Brynne. “Eyes open, young lady.”

Brynne squirmed but did as told.

“There was a considerable mess made in the hall.”

Caden raised his brows. “We caused none of it. And I don't like messes.”

Officer Levine nodded. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

He peered at Caden. “All right.”

Jenkins looked up. His red hair looked dark indoors. “The secretary reported seeing three kids running from the school.” He pointed his pen at Caden, then Tito. “Two boys,” he said, then flip-flopped his pen slowly to each end of the couch. “One girl.”

Rosa was fuming. Caden could imagine steam rising from the floor on which she stood. She zeroed in on Tito. “Did you go to the school last night?”

“No,” Jane said.

Rosa made a motion to indicate she wanted everyone silent. “I'm asking Tito,” she said.

She was a skilled interrogator, indeed. Neither Jane nor Brynne looked ready to break. Caden was an eighth-born prince. He was solid as a stone. Also, he didn't care too much. His mind kept wandering back to Jasan, to the accidents, to other things of importance. Tito, however, was close to talking. Disappointing Rosa was his weak spot.

Tito didn't look at her. His hand looked limp in Jane's. “Yes, Rosa,” he said.

“You lied to me,” she said.

Tito, who had stood tall while threatened by villain and vermin, looked terrified.

“We vandalized nothing. Matter of point,” Caden said, “we were attacked by Mr. Creedly and his rats.”

Officer Levine frowned at him. “Uh-huh,” he said. “Was it your bright idea to break into the school?”

The others might keep silent, might keep their intent and motives close. Caden wouldn't. He would tell them the truth until they believed him. “Ms. Primrose ordered me to find the cause of the gas accident. She's going to eat my brother and me on Tuesday if I fail.”

“That's pretty specific, son,” Officer Levine said.

“It is.”

Rosa was looking at him now, too. Some of her anger seemed to have dimmed. “Phones on the table.”

Tito and Jane immediately put their phones on the coffee table. Caden tossed his down as well. Brynne hesitated. Truly, she loved her phone. She seemed to love all Ashevillian tech.

“You have until the count of five,” Rosa said. “One.”

With a huff, and a defiant expression that meant she'd just steal it back later, Brynne complied.

“You three,” she said, and motioned to Jane, Tito, and Brynne. “Upstairs. Now. You can stay in your rooms until I decide what to do with you.” She pointed to Caden. “You, don't move.”

It seemed Caden was in the most trouble. Once Caden
heard the girls walk into their room and Tito's slow footfalls on the creaky attic steps, Rosa sat down next to him. “This is serious, Caden,” she said.

“The school may press charges, son,” Officer Levine said. “Against all of you.”

Caden looked from her to Officer Levine. That sounded different from Rosa's grounding. A good leader protected his people. “Jane wasn't there.”

Jenkins scribbled on his tablet. “You sure about that, kid?”

“I tell the truth,” Caden said.

They were speaking softly. It was an odd shift, as Rosa was obviously furious with the others. If anything, she should be most angry at him. It made his stomach twitch. He still didn't understand the strange culture here, and “press charges” was an odd phrase.

In Caden's mind, charges brought up images of Sir Horace barreling down a mountain, but it must have had another meaning. Many English words had multiple meanings, and sometimes Caden's gift of speech only helped him with the literal one.

Would he be crushed by a stone, or charged by a horde of beasts? Punishments like those seemed rare in this land. Besides, he didn't need to know what it meant. “Ms. Primrose won't press charges.” Of this, he was certain. “She gave me my quest.”

Officer Levine stared at him a moment, then said, “Son,
you were seen at the school last night, and last night the school was vandalized.”

“I damaged nothing,” he told them. “You think too lowly of me.”

“Kid,” Jenkins said, “you've got to learn to shut it.”

Caden most certainly did not need to learn to shut it. He turned back to Officer Levine. “Mr. Creedly was there. He caused the bees to swarm during the spelling bee.” He thought back to the dark science classroom. “Rath Dunn and Ms. Jackson were there, too, skulking around in the dark. They are the ones you should question.”

Rosa took his hand. “Why do you think that, Caden?”

Caden looked down at their hands and raised a brow. “I don't think that. I know that.”

Officer Levine and Rosa exchanged a look. It was a sad, concerned look that Caden didn't at all appreciate. “Caden,” Rosa began.

“I have proof,” Caden said. “Hand me my phone.” Reluctantly, Rosa handed it back to him. He played the audio file. “Can you tell me that wasn't threatening?”

For a moment, she seemed lost for words. “No,” she said finally, “I can't. But that doesn't mean he's a tyrant from another realm. And I don't know when you recorded that, or in what context.”

“I just told you when and where.” He held her gaze. “And Rath Dunn is a tyrant, and he is from the Greater Realm.”

“I know you believe that, Caden,” Rosa said, but it didn't sound as if she did.

Officer Levine sat down on his other side. “Son, we are trying to help you.”