Quest Maker (9 page)

Bad things were about to happen. Caden felt it deep in his gut. Bad things were about to happen, and the crimson-dressed despot in front of him was the reason.

R
ath Dunn dragged them to the parking lot. There was only one car left. It gleamed red like an elfish ruby, and looked as fast as an Autumnlands firefox.

Near the car, Rath Dunn released Tito but kept Caden gripped tightly and pulled out a key. Tito stepped back. The red car's lights flashed, and the car door clicked and unlocked. “My Audi,” Rath Dunn said, and Caden could tell he liked the car. “Get in.”

Caden pulled against him. “We won't get in that car with you.”

Tito stepped farther away. “Give us back our phones.”

The long spring shadows stretched between the school and the mountain and over the asphalt. Rath Dunn laughed and began to drag Caden toward the car. “You can stop fight—”

Caden punched him in the gut. Hard enough that he loosened his hold. Caden pulled free and kicked at Rath Dunn's knee. The kick, Rath Dunn blocked. Mostly. He grimaced, though, and Caden jumped two strides back.

Rath Dunn straightened up. He motioned for them to come back. “Don't make me run you boys down.”

Caden was fairly certain Rath Dunn could catch one of them. His skill in battle was great. Yet Caden would rather run than surrender. He nodded to Tito and they dashed in opposite directions.

Rath Dunn grabbed Caden before he'd run a stride. He whacked him in the temple, which made Caden a bit dizzy, and dragged him to the car. “Behave,” he said, and tossed him into the passenger seat. “I'm taking you home. That's all.” He paused and turned back to the parking lot and spoke in a loud voice. “That is, I'll take you home if Tito gets in the car. Otherwise, I'll toss you down the rocky side of the mountain.”

“And if I get in, you won't hurt us?” Tito sounded like he was halfway across the parking lot. “Why should I believe you?”

Rath Dunn sounded offended. “I don't lie, boy.”

In some ways, it made Rath Dunn more treacherous. It gave people confidence when striking deals with him. Even Caden had once fallen prey to his honesty. It seemed now Tito had as well, as he was throwing his backpack in the backseat and slowly getting into the car. Honesty and
honor, Caden was beginning to believe, weren't always the same thing.

Before Caden fully regained his senses, Tito was in the backseat, the doors were locked, and Rath Dunn was zooming from the parking lot. Caden hurried to buckle his seat belt. Rosa insisted they always wear seat belts. He rubbed his temple. His arm throbbed. He felt a bit carsick from the twisting, turning road.

“You boys should be grateful,” Rath Dunn said in his pedantic teacher's voice. “I'm teaching you a lesson today.”

Tito leaned forward. He, too, looked pale. “What lesson is that? How to be a maniac?”

Rath Dunn grinned. He took a sharp turn, and the force slammed Caden against the door and Tito back. “That when I decide to kill you, I can.” He shrugged. “And will.”

Caden felt his heart racing, his stomach turning. “That's against Ms. Primrose's rules.”

Rath Dunn turned to look at him. “For now,” he said. Truly, he should keep his eyes on the twisting road before them and not on Caden. “You'd be wise to be useful,” Rath Dunn added, “but it seems you're too foolish for that.”

Caden rested back against the leather seat. Though not the appropriate reaction of an eighth-born prince nor a future Elite Paladin, he felt like he was going to throw up. The thought of how his father would crinkle his brow in disappointment if he did so helped him keep down his lunch. “You'd be wise to slow down,” he managed to say.

Rath Dunn growled at him in such a way that Caden worried he might change his mind and kill him in the passenger seat of the red Audi. “Next time I get you alone, son of Axel, you'll suffer. Tell your brother that for me.”

Caden wouldn't tell Jasan that. Tito, however, was also his brother. Mostly to irritate Rath Dunn, he turned and said, “I'll suffer next time. Did you get that, Sir Tito?”

“Huh?” Tito said. “Oh yeah, sure.” He sounded distracted. With Caden's life being threatened, he could pay a bit more attention. Also, “yeah, sure” was hardly an appropriate response to Caden's future torture.

Rath Dunn took another sharp turn. His eyes flashed, and he glanced into his rearview mirror. “What are you doing back there?”

“I'm going to tell Rosa you threatened us.”

Rath Dunn returned his gaze to the road. His scar tugged at his mouth, and a slow grin spread across his face. What type of game was he playing to want Rosa's fury? Surely, he wasn't so foolish. “Go ahead.” He chuckled. “From what I've heard, Caden has already complained many times.”

“Yeah, but she thinks I'm sane,” Tito said.

“Does she now? You're her foster kid, right? What does she really care?” Before Caden could challenge those words, Rath Dunn slammed the brakes.

Caden lurched forward, the seat belt pinching his neck. Tito cursed. Rath Dunn began to drive carefully. Slowly, he
turned into Rosa's drive. The door locks flipped up. Caden doubled over and promptly threw up on the red floor mat. He certainly wasn't telling Jasan about any of this.

Tito scrambled out the back door.

Rath Dunn stared at the mat. He seemed unable to comprehend.

Perhaps Caden's nervous stomach wasn't so bad. Rath Dunn might kill him one day, and Caden's fathers and brothers might be embarrassed by his mess on the mat, but the action had distracted his enemy. Caden used the moment to jump out.

Rath Dunn rolled down the window. He spoke near a whisper. “Who knows, though? Maybe your brother won't care. Maybe he'll want to kill you himself.”

“Jasan wouldn't hurt me.”

Rath Dunn reached in his pocket and tossed Caden's and Tito's cell phones to them. “We'll see who hurts who,” Rath Dunn said. He slowly pulled down the drive, turned, then sped down the road like a spray of red blood.

Caden stared after him partly in shock, partly still nauseous. He felt unnerved that the tyrant knew of Rosa and her house, worried he could hurt her as well as Tito, Brynne, and Jane. At least Caden had thrown up on his floor mat. It wasn't the noblest of things, but it would require Rath Dunn to clean.

Suddenly, Caden couldn't catch his breath.

Tito patted Caden's back. “Bro, you okay?” He also sounded a bit shaky.

Caden wasn't okay. Rath Dunn was going to kill him. Also Tito. The math problem about the brother replayed in his head, as did Ms. Primrose's words: “Heroes aren't sent here, dear.” The royal Winterbird had been stripped from Jasan's uniform. How could he have been banished? How could anyone believe Jasan would hurt Chadwin? Unlike Jasan's feelings for Caden, Jasan liked Chadwin. Certainly, the king knew that. He had to know that. How could their father let this happen?

A gentle hand on his shoulder startled him. It was Rosa. “Are you all right? How was the tutoring?”

“He drove like a madman,” Tito said. “Caden's right. He's crazy.”

She looked at Caden with something between concern and sorrow in her expression. “Go inside and get something to eat.”

Caden's hands felt shaky so he put them in his pockets. “I've told you, Rath Dunn is my enemy, he's the enemy of all good peoples.” Rosa looked skeptical, like usual. “He is also a danger to Brynne and Jane.”

Rosa crossed her arms. Her face was iron. “He's not your enemy, Caden. He's your math teacher.”

“He's both,” Caden said. “You shouldn't have given him permission to drive us home.”

She frowned at that. “I'm sorry, Caden. I didn't realize it would upset you so much. Go inside and calm down.” Her voice was kind but stern. “We'll discuss this later,” she said, and went to tinker with her metal flowers.

In the living room, the girls sat on the green couch. Jane was dressed in her pink training clothes. Brynne had a yellow towel around her neck. Her hair hung in long, dark strands past her shoulders.

Caden reached out and touched a strand. “Rosa has saved your magical locks.”

“For now,” Jane said.

Brynne's face turned red. “For always. No one better touch my hair.”

Smartly, Caden let go of it. “He'll try again,” he said. His head and stomach still felt as if they were spinning. “At least we know what he wants from you. We must plan to protect both you and your hair.”

Brynne started to braid her damp hair. “I'll protect me,” she said. “He comes near my hair and I'll fling him against the wall. I got rid of those assassins that way.” She looked at Caden. “Remember?”

Caden did remember. Telekinesis mind magic. Brynne rarely talked about that day when they were just children. But people had died. Caden's guard Luna had fallen. If not for Brynne, Caden would likely have also.

However powerful Brynne was, though, Rath Dunn was a tyrant. He'd easily caught Caden. He was fast, and he was their math teacher. He had power over them. And Rosa, as protective as she was, didn't see it. Even if Rosa wanted to keep them from school, Caden had a sinking feeling Ms. Primrose had ways of stopping her.

Jane scooted over so Tito could sit beside her. “If Brynne can fling him against the wall, I'm in favor of that.” She smiled at Brynne. “Or just take out Ms. Jackson. She's the master of ritual magic. Rath Dunn needs her to do the spell. The ingredients won't matter without her.”

“If he had to, he could cast it himself,” Caden said. “He seems meticulous enough. And he's conniving enough to have alternate options.”

“But it would make it more difficult, right?” Jane said.

“Ritual magic takes time, even after all the ingredients are collected,” Brynne said. “What might take a master weeks or months to set up could take a novice years or decades to do.”

“So it would be smart to get rid of her.”

Tito nudged Jane with his elbow. “You've got a bit of a dark streak, you know that,” he said, then glanced at Brynne. “No wonder you and Miss Destructive get along. You're both beautiful and scary.”

Jane blushed, but this wasn't the appropriate time for what Tito had explained to him was flirting.

“It would be foolish for us not to prepare for Rath Dunn's next attack,” Caden said. “But flinging him against a wall would likely end in Ms. Primrose eating Brynne.” He glanced at Jane. “And ‘taking out' Ms. Jackson would be just as difficult and yield a similar result.”

Tito looked over at the door as if checking for Rosa. Then he leaned farther over and peeked out the window.

Jane's blush had faded, and she seemed to be thinking seriously. “We need to do something.”

Tito shrugged. “If you want to prepare, then we need to know why Rath Dunn wants Brynne's hair and Caden's brother's blood.”

“Does evil need a reason?” Caden said.

“Usually,” Tito said. “It's called motive.” He reached for his pack. “I found something interesting in his backseat. These mean something.” Tito handed a paper to Jane and one to Brynne. The third he kept. “Mr. Rathis had a box full of them. They slid from under the car seat when he took one of the curves.”

Caden held out his hand.

“You can't read it, bro,” Tito said.

True, but Caden didn't like feeling left out.

Brynne crinkled the paper in her hand. “It's a complaint against the school. Signed, Anonymous.”

“Mine claims the buildings aren't properly cleaned,” Jane said.

“This one says Ms. Primrose is too harsh on students,” Tito said. “It's signed by Ms. Elise Hicks, esquire.”

That name sounded familiar. Well, not the esquire. The Elise Hicks.

Tito handed Caden the paper. “That's Derek's mother. The scary lawyer.”

Caden scrunched up his brow. “What does Rath Dunn gain from that?”

“How would I know?”

There were steps on the porch. The door creaked. Caden turned and hid the paper behind his back. It rumpled behind him. Jane stuffed hers between the sofa cushions. Caden had no idea what Brynne had done with her letter, but it was hidden.

Rosa looked at them for a long moment. Finally, she said, “Time for dinner.”

T
he next day was Thursday. On Sunday, Caden would be cursed. On Tuesday, he and Jasan would be eaten if he failed his quest. As each day passed, Caden's troubles increased.

The weather seemed unaware of their impending fate. The sky was bright, the sun warm. The air smelled of cut grass.

Caden rode in the front of Rosa's pickup. He was royalty. Until he was dead, it was his proper place. He'd explained this many times to the three nonroyals in the backseat, and still they kicked the back of his seat. He turned around sharply.

Brynne, Tito, and Jane smiled at him.

“This isn't the behavior of future Elite Paladins,” he informed them.

Brynne looked over at Jane and Tito. “No future Elite Paladin did that, prince.”

“It was you, then.”

“Maybe,” she said, and Tito and Jane laughed.

When they arrived at school, Rosa had them wait a moment. “Be good. Work hard. Bring home that spelling trophy.” She reached out to Tito, then Brynne. “I'd be there if I could, but the sculpture installation has been scheduled for months.”

“Yeah,” Tito said, and shrugged. “It's okay.”

Brynne opened the rear door. “Don't worry, Rosa. I'll certainly win.”

“Dream on,” Tito said.

Caden unbuckled his seat belt. “If there were weapons involved, I'd be more impressed.” He had a quest to complete, a saboteur to unmask, and an Elderdragon to please. A sword would help with all those things. “When can I have my sword returned?”

Rosa's cheek twitched. “I've told you,” she said. “No swords in the house.”

“One day you'll reconsider.”

“Go to school, Caden.”

Once in the building, Tito and Brynne went to prepare for the spelling contest, but Jane walked with Caden to his locker. Unlucky twelve-four was smudged. Truly, it was cursed with muck. There was another note inside—a pink one, not one from his brother. The locker was also cursed
with pink notes. He put the note with the stack.

Beside him, Jane rummaged in her backpack. She was dressed in the colors of spring—pale yellows and greens. Her hair was combed over her ears as if she wanted to hide their slight elfish points. She pulled a small kitchen whisk from her pack. It looked suspiciously like the one Rosa used to make her eggs. “I enchanted it.”

He grabbed his reading book from his locker. “So you've moved from the office to the kitchen?”

She handed the whisk to him. In his left hand he held his reading book, in his right, the enchanted whisk. His right fingers started to tingle.

“It's who I am,” she said.

True, enchanters enchanted. That was why they never lived long. Caden had hoped the discipline and rigor of the Elite Paladin path might help Jane control it, but that hope was dimming.

“Don't worry,” Jane said. “The smaller the enchantment, the less life force required.” She looked proud. “Brynne and I figured it out.”

If anyone knew about lack of control, Caden supposed it was Brynne. Still, Brynne's magic worked differently from Jane's. “You don't know that for certain,” he said.

“I'm mostly certain,” she said. “And this way it's measured. I won't accidentally enchant something like Tito's necklace again. I won't burn myself out.”

The power in the whisk felt more intense than Caden's
magical chain of paper clips, more intense than Tito's necklace of protection. He frowned and offered it back to her.

“Keep it for now,” she said. “The enchantments work better when I give them away.”

“Are you certain it's a small enchantment?”

“More powerful ones are harder to detect.”

He swished it in the air. Nothing happened. “What does it do?”

“It mixes things.”

Jane seemed more impressed by the item than he was. Still, it was enchanted. Caden deemed it magic item one hundred and thirty-one, the Enchanted Whisk of Mixing, and stuck it in his inside pocket. Now he had three magical items. No one had three magical items. He stood up a little straighter.

A group of eighth graders walked by them. He heard a girl say, “Did you see the new gym teacher?” One of the boys added, “He keeps killing the basketballs.” They broke into giggles and whispers.

Caden looked down at the floor. The tiles looked gritty and needed to be mopped. How could Jasan have been banished? Rath Dunn said his brother was a traitor. The dagger that had killed Chadwin was here, and Jasan had denied nothing.

Jane touched his arm. She seemed to have guessed his thoughts. “The lunch witches used my memory of my mother against me,” she said. “Don't let Mr. Rathis make
you doubt your brother, Caden. Mr. Rathis is the villain.” She glared at a short, stout teacher opening a classroom door. “Don't trust any of them.”

“I don't,” Caden said. He got out his cleaning cloth and wiped the fingerprints from the locker door. When he next spoke, he kept his voice low. “I don't understand how Jasan could have been banished.”

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Then talk to him. He could help us with the quest.”

If Jasan knew Caden had taken such a quest, he'd be furious. He might lock Caden away and try to fight Ms. Primrose. “Perhaps,” he said.

“If it'll help, you can give the whisk to him.”

So that was why she'd handed it to Caden. It was a present, possibly a peace offering, for Caden to give Jasan. “A kind offer,” he said.

Although Jane was intent on revenge against the lunch witch, she was often kind and brave. Truly, Caden should have knighted her. It was a terrible oversight. With Jasan in Asheville, however, Jasan was the topmost Razzonian royal. Jasan would have to do it and Caden wasn't sure if he would. He wasn't sure of much these days.

“Let's find him,” Caden said.

When they turned the corner, however, Ms. Primrose stood in front of them, a stern expression etched into her features. She shifted her gaze from Caden to Jane, and her stomach rumbled. She didn't laugh it off.

“You know the rules, dears,” she said.

Jane shivered as if cold breath had touched her neck. “We know,” Jane said.

Ms. Primrose tapped a timepiece on her wrist. “Don't be late. Punctuality is important.”

Well, Caden could only agree with that. Still. “We're not late yet.”

“But you will be in ninety-four seconds.”

That seemed somewhat exact.

“Ninety-three,” she said. As she said it, her teeth looked bright white, pointed, and like they could rip flesh. She noticed him looking and covered her mouth. “It's impolite to stare.” She narrowed her cold, pale eyes. “Ninety-two.”

She pointed Jane toward the English classroom, and Jane smartly hurried to it. Then Ms. Primrose grabbed Caden by the elbow—he was tired of people and old dragons doing that—and led him to the reading room.

The light in the hall turned as blue as a snow tortoise shell. Ms. Primrose stopped in front of the classroom door. Her skin shimmered with scales. Her hair, her shadow, everything about her seemed reptilian. Her gaze lingered on Caden like he was a tasty bit of roasted rabbit.

“Dear,” she said, and her tone had an edginess that was unfamiliar. “Have you completed my quest yet? Do you have proof? Two days have passed.”

“I have five more,” he said. For the first time since he'd taken the quest, he wondered if it helped Ms. Primrose
keep herself under control. After all, she'd said even she was bound by the agreements made in forgotten tongues. “Until my time is up, you can't eat me, Jasan, or any other student or parent.” He spoke softly, the way he talked to Sir Horace when Sir Horace was spooked. “This was our contract.”

“If you neglect your studies and break my rules, I can still punish you,” she said. “I can turn you into a cat, keep you in my office, and eat you when your time runs out.”

Could she turn him into a cat? Well, she'd turned herself into an old lady, so it seemed possible. He eyed her. There was something he'd often wondered. “May I ask you a question?”

She huffed a bit and checked her watch. “Thirty-three seconds. I suppose I can answer one question,” she said.

In the legends about the Elderdragons, they were described as young and beautiful. But Ms. Primrose always appeared as an old lady. “If you can transform yourself into anything you wish,” Caden said, “why an old lady?”

She bristled, but she had given him permission to ask. “I can appear as a human, but I transform into my version of a human. I'm old in any form I take. If I were to turn you into a cat, you'd certainly be a loud, yowling kitten. Another question like that, and you'll see firsthand.”

“I understand,” Caden said.

“You had better. And you had better find who dares embarrass me, so I can have someone for dinner. If not,
I'll eat you and your brother.” Some of her power seemed to pull back. She ran a gnarled hand over the door and knocked. “Above all else, my school is my most precious treasure.”

Mr. McDonald opened the door just as the late bell rang. Ward and Tonya sat at their computers. When Mr. McDonald saw Ms. Primrose, he blanched. Truth be told, he'd been acting odd recently. Some days, although not many, he'd actively taught Caden reading. He'd been working with Tonya on her stuttering, and he'd tried to engage Ward in conversation at least twice. His fear of Ms. Primrose seemed to be exponentially increased.

“His reading is improving,” Mr. McDonald said, and it sounded like a plea for mercy.

“It better be,” Ms. Primrose said, and Caden saw the sharp glint of her teeth again. “You need to start doing your job. My school's reputation is everything to me.” Her stomach rumbled. “Otherwise, I'll eat you.”

Ward and Tonya both looked up at that.

Mr. McDonald seemed ready to cower behind the nearest computer. “Yes, ma'am.”

After she left, Mr. McDonald remained shaky. “We're going to watch the spelling bee today.” He was taking deep breaths. “It's required.” He looked from Caden to Tonya to Ward. “If you have any questions, ask me.”

The auditorium was a large space. Two aisles divided thirty rows of creaky wooden seats into three sections. Mr.
McDonald directed Caden, Tonya, and Ward to a middle row on the left side.

The ceiling was high. Exposed oak beams stretched from side to side like the giant growth limbs of wood elementals. In the rear, exits led into the school's back hallway. In the front, there was a podium and stage. On each side of the stage, exits opened to outdoors. Future Elite Paladins always noted exits.

A few parents sat in reserved seats in the rear. Students fidgeted in the rest of the rows. As Mr. Bellows was moderating, his English class—including Jane—sat with Mrs. Belle and her morning science students. Caden leaned back.

A spelling contest was a waste of his royal time. He didn't understand the purpose of a competition that included no swords, spears, or horses. And he had a quest to complete.

At the podium, Brynne ran fingers through her long hair and glared at Mr. Bellows. It was as if she was daring him to try to cut it again. Her clothes were shades of purple, and her eyes shone silver under the stage lights.

A slight smirk tipped Mr. Bellows's thin lips. He hissed the first word. “Fratricide.”

Caden felt his face heat. He knew the word. He was gifted in speech; he knew most words. “Fratricide” meant brother killing brother, but he'd no idea how to spell it. The word seemed to hang like a dagger from the beams above.

Three rows up, Rath Dunn turned, caught Caden's gaze, and smiled.

One day, Caden would bring them to justice. He looked away. When he did, his breath left him. Jasan sat in a back left seat. It seemed he'd also been told to watch the spelling bee.

The other teachers had been in Asheville longer than Caden. They'd had time to learn the language, and Caden suspected had used charms, tricks, and magic to speak and read it. Jasan had been here mere days. And he wouldn't use tricks to learn the language. Elite Paladins didn't deceive. As Ms. Primrose would say, it wasn't in their natures.

As such, Jasan didn't react to the word—he didn't understand it—but his gaze slid from Rath Dunn to Caden and turned as cold as ice-covered rock. Jasan was being taunted in a language he didn't understand, and in a land in which he didn't belong. There was nothing fair or just about that.

Then again, maybe it wasn't Jasan being taunted. Maybe it was Caden. After all, Caden understood the hard-to-spell words.

On stage, Brynne looked caught between terrified and livid. She twisted her hands together. Her gaze darted from Jasan to Rath Dunn to Caden, and finally to Mr. Bellows at the front. “Fratricide,” she said, and it sounded like the word tasted foul on her tongue. “F-R-A-T-R-I-C-I-D-E, fratricide.”

In contrast to Brynne's sleek beauty, Mr. Bellows was worn looking. “Correct,” he said, but there was nothing correct about fratricide.