The Schism (The Broken Prism Book 4) (25 page)

With a last look at the school Hayden had come to regard as home, Hayden gestured to his two partners, took a deep breath, and stepped into the schism.

He drew a knife as soon as he crossed over, half expecting the area around the opening to be teeming with monsters, but to his relief there were none in sight. Harold and Tanner appeared behind him a moment later—seemingly out of thin air, as the aperture had vanished as soon as Hayden passed through it. It felt weird knowing that there was an opening there but not being able to see it or step through it from this side.

For a minute or two the three of them simply stood there, taking in the scenery. The sky was dark and overcast in the way that Hayden associated with really bad lightning storms, though currently there was no rain or thunder. The area around where they were standing looked barren, dull brown and black dirt blowing around near their feet in the light breeze, though Hayden thought he could see foliage of some sort in the distance. There was a muffled quality to the air that dampened sound and made Hayden feel stuffy, despite the lack of humidity. Almost immediately, his hands began to feel stopped-up where the magic met his warped Foci; it was an unsettling sensation, and Hayden tried waving his hands back and forth a few times to shake it, with no success.

His attention was diverted by the sight of the prism in his belt, the only magical weapon he had on him. If he had brought any other prisms with him, he wouldn’t believe that this was the onyx one, because it was now completely transparent, as though made of crystal. Stranger still, it radiated a faint light from itself, glowing brightly in the dimness like a beacon in the night. He did his best to cover it with his shirt so he didn’t draw unwanted attention from monsters any sooner than necessary.

Directly overhead were the ley lines, which just looked like faint threads of light all bunched up and streaking off into the distance, allegedly in the direction they needed to follow to find the door from this side of the schism. Hayden frowned as he realized that a smaller cluster of ley lines veered off in another direction almost immediately.

Is this what Master Laurren meant when he said I need to go left?

Hayden often wished that things could just be clear and logical in the world of magic, but he rarely got so lucky. If he made a decision now and chose wrong, there was a very good possibility that none of them would make it out of here alive, and Hayden’s damaged Foci would only hold back the distortion effect of this place for so long.

We need to get moving—I don’t have time to second-guess myself.

“There’s something about this place, isn’t there?” Tanner spoke before Hayden could open his mouth. “I mean, it isn’t the scariest-looking place I’ve ever been, but something about the air gives me the heebie jeebies.”

Harold nodded and said, “I feel it too,” with a little shudder. Other than being generally dark and bleak, there was nothing identifiably terrifying about the world here, and yet the feeling seemed to seep through their pores.

“We need to get going,” Hayden informed them, mastering his fear. “We follow the ley lines over here to the right,” he added, deciding on the spot.

“But what about those lines over there?” Harold pointed to the left, frowning. “We were told to follow the lines, but no one ever said there’d be more than one set to follow. How do you know that’s the right way?”

I don’t. I’m just taking a gamble that this isn’t the ‘left’ that Laurren was talking about, but if I’m wrong then certain death awaits us.

What he said out loud was, “Asher told me to follow the biggest grouping, which are these right here.” He pointed again, feeling slightly guilty for telling the lie but not wanting to stand here and have a debate about it until he went insane.

The others looked relieved to have a clear direction and nodded agreement, and the three of them set off.

“Keep your eyes sharp. I don’t know the laws of this place—magically, I mean—so we have to assume we could be attacked at any time by monsters,” Hayden instructed, keeping a hand near one of his knives as they followed the overhead ley lines, occasionally glancing up to make sure they stayed directly beneath them.

The others nodded and Harold said, “I can’t imagine where we’re going to find to camp for the night in a place like this. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep a wink, even if we find some decent shelter.”

“That’s good,” Hayden said without looking at the man, “because I don’t intend to stop and sleep until we get out of here. I don’t know how long it will take for the magic in this place to affect my mind, and I don’t intend to find out.”

The others looked mildly alarmed at being told they wouldn’t get any rest until they made it through the schism, but no one was arguing with him.

Yet,
Hayden couldn’t help but add mentally.

“So, uh, tell me about yourselves” he continued, because the silence of the place was oppressive and it was easier to ignore it if they were talking.

Tanner answered first.

“I grew up in Serina; dad kept chickens. I didn’t want to run the farm when I reached my majority, so they gave it to my little sister and I trained in the local regiment there.”

Serina wasn’t too far from Merina, where Hayden had grown up. Surprised, Hayden asked, “Was there much to do in the militia? I didn’t think there were any big wars in the last couple decades…”

Tanner shrugged and said, “There’s always people who need to hire protection; that’s mostly what I ended up doing, guarding cargo and the like. Of course, during the Dark Prism’s days…” he trailed off uneasily, giving Hayden an embarrassed look.

“I know my father was evil, there’s no sense in dancing around it,” he assured the others. “Trust me, I’m not offended by your mentioning it. I never even met the man until the day he died, and I don’t even remember what he looked like.”

Looking visibly relieved, Tanner continued.

“So, I did that for a long time, then I got tired of the life and wanted to settle down, so I started apprenticing with a blacksmith to try and learn the trade.”

Harold raised his eyebrows in surprise and said, “You started apprenticing that late in life? You know you’ll never be a full smith, right?”

Tanner shrugged again, unbothered by that fact.

“I know, but I don’t mind the work, and it lets me stay in one place and bring home decent wages. I’ve been courting this lady, you see…”

And you threw it all away to come here?
Hayden almost asked out loud.

After a moment of silence he said, “What about you, Harold?”

“I’m from Merina,” the stout man replied, his gaze continuously shifting left and right to look for monsters, though the dusty plain they were crossing made the element of surprise almost impossible.

“Oh, wow, me too,” Hayden interjected.

“I know,” Harold interrupted, not sounding impressed. “The space all around your old house is still junked up with magic; no one can rebuild there.”

Oh, right, forgot about that…

Hayden had visited the site of his childhood home during his second summer at Mizzenwald, and had stupidly walked into the dense cloud of magic that still blanketed the place and prevented animals and humans from returning there. He would have died had it not been for Bonk turning full-sized and carrying him out of the area. He wondered if the magic would ever dissipate from around his old home, or whether it would be a scar on the land forever—a gruesome monument to his loss.

Passing over the awkward moment, Hayden said, “So what do you do for a living when you aren’t braving schisms?”

“I run a butcher shop in the east end of town.” Knowing that this didn’t really sound impressive given their current assignment he added, “I’ve been hunting my own food since I was eight years old. I’ll kill anything we run into.”

Hayden nodded and for a few minutes they were silent, as the ground sloped upwards and they had to strain to climb the hill without slipping in the dirt, which was packed so tightly that it provided no traction whatsoever.

Finally, Tanner said, “What about you?” to Hayden.

“What do you mean, what about me?” he asked, panting slightly as they crested the hill.

“What do you do when you’re not busy being all heroic?” There was a slightly sarcastic edge to his voice that let him know his companions didn’t entirely buy Calahan’s spiel about how awesome he was.

“Uh, I guess there’s not much to say. I was a nobody who lived with my mother until I was ten, then the Dark Prism showed up, blew up my house, and killed my mom. After that I spent two years in the orphanage in Merina while the Council of Mages decided what to do with me, and eventually they decided I should come to Mizzenwald and learn magic.”

A decision that Calahan has likely been kicking himself over ever since.

“Did you really do all those things your Chief was rattling on about?” Harold asked with narrowed eyebrows.

“Would you have come along with me if I hadn’t?” Hayden asked curiously.

“Maybe…” the butcher said with serious deliberation. “We’re being paid a fortune to do this—enough to live off of for the rest of our lives.”

Well at least you signed up for this voluntarily. I’m not even being paid,
Hayden thought grimly.

What he said out loud was, “My good friend Cal speaks in half-truths. I was involved with all of the things he said, and at least partially responsible for the success. Honestly though, I had help on a lot of it, help I probably would have been dead without.”

He waited to see what they’d make of that, whether they were getting ready to try and overthrow him and declare themselves in charge from here on out. To his surprise, Tanner merely nodded and said, “Fair enough. I can respect your honesty.” Harold said nothing.

They walked for a long while, though it was hard to have any concept of time inside this realm because the sky never changed; it was as overcast and dark as it had been when they first arrived. The wind didn’t seem to reach the clouds, because Hayden could swear they hadn’t moved a bit, simply sitting static overhead. His stomach growled and he felt tired, which was the only real indicator of time passing at all to him.

He began to relax and think that maybe they would avoid being attacked by monsters during this journey after all. It had been hours (or so he guessed), and they hadn’t seen any sign of life yet. Maybe all the monsters were sleeping, or they were avoiding the trail along the ley lines, or…

An enormous shadow passed overhead, though it took a moment for the thought to register in Hayden’s mind because the sky was so dark to begin with. As it grew larger, the warning bells in Hayden’s brain went off and he said, “Look out!” and dove to the ground, rolling without knowing what he was diving away from.

Harold was just as quick to react and had veered off in the other direction, but Tanner hadn’t moved fast enough and was now bleeding from a long gash along the entirety of one arm. Looking up, Hayden saw the cockatrice regaining altitude, preparing to turn around and dive for them again.

Hayden had only seen one cockatrice before, and it was a fictitious replica inside of the challenge arena at Mizzenwald last year. That one had been small—hardly larger than Bonk—which according to Lorn Trout made it even more dangerous. If that was the case then this one should be a wuss, because it was easily six feet tall, its wingspan nearly double that as it soared overhead.

The cockatrice spun around and dove towards them again. Panicking, Hayden fumbled around his belt for a prism before realizing that he didn’t have any magical weapons on hand, and had to scramble to his feet and run to avoid being ripped in half. He frantically felt around his belt for anything that might be helpful and came up with a knife and his buckler, which suddenly seemed very small and insignificant against such a formidable enemy.

The cockatrice let out a huge gout of flame and Hayden thrust the buckler in front of him without a second thought. The shield wasn’t nearly large enough to protect his entire body, but it did at least cover his face and chest, which was where the hottest part of the flame hit. He could feel the heat blistering the treated wood and steel frame from the other side, nearly dropping it as the handhold grew hot.

He heard some kind of battle cry from behind the cockatrice, which had landed on the ground and was focusing on Hayden, and soon Harold could be seen climbing on the thing’s back, sword in hand. Harold plunged the blade into the creature’s back, which seemed like it should have killed it instantly but only succeeded in making it really angry.

The cockatrice shook Harold free, launching the stout butcher off of its back with an impressive shriek. Hayden heard the man’s body slam against the ground but couldn’t see it behind the massive wingspan of the monster that stood between them. The cockatrice made a noise that sounded like it was getting ready to spit on him, and knowing what to anticipate, Hayden dropped his shield and ran towards it as fast as possible, seeking refuge up against its body just as it spat poison all over the place he had been moments before.

The cockatrice looked down at Hayden there and spread its wings as though to take flight—probably just long enough to get airborne so it could stomp on him—and Hayden drew the first knife that came to hand and plunged it into the beast’s gut. It just so happened that he stuck the knife in right as the cockatrice launched itself into the air, which resulted in the blade slicing through its stomach as it moved. The knife was ripped out of Hayden’s hand as the monster lifted off with the blade still inside it, and the resulting shriek from his foe forced him to cover his ears for fear of going deaf. The cockatrice returned to the ground with a loud thud, nearly squashing him, stomping around in pain as Tanner reappeared to its left, loaded a crossbow and shot a shaft right between its eyes.