The Schism (The Broken Prism Book 4) (3 page)

“Stop gawking like a tourist and act as though you have some sense of pride and entitlement,” Magdalene chivvied him quietly.

Hayden bristled at the unsolicited advice and said, “I don’t suppose I can get the lessons I need without all the snide commentary?”

Mrs. Trout spared him another glance as she led him down the corridor and said, “This is all part of the lessons you need in order to win your case with the Council of Mages. You will need to look and act like the scion of a Great House if you want to be taken seriously, otherwise they will bully you and steamroll over your childish protests without blinking.”

Surprised by her candor, Hayden asked, “But Oliver said that the law is on my side.”

“Why in the world do you think that matters?” She shook her head as though the very idea was ridiculous. “Do you really think that being
right
is enough?” She answered her own question. “It’s only the first step—albeit an important one. You’ll be receiving a crash-course in estate and inheritance laws so that you will understand your rights, because anything you can’t prove you’re entitled to, you can be talked out of.”

“So you’re telling me that the Council of Mages is in the business of cheating people who aren’t smart enough or old enough to know how to defend themselves,” Hayden said bluntly, as they turned in to a library that was nearly as large as the one at Mizzenwald.

“The Council’s business is to do what is best for mage-kind. If they believe that using your money enables them to do that, then that is what they will do, up and until the point that you are able to convince them to stop.”

Hayden frowned and said, “I’m surprised you’re admitting how immoral the Council is…seeing as how you’re on it, and pretty high-ranking from what I can tell.”

Magdalene stopped walking and turned to face him.

“What fool told you that the law is concerned with morality? The law deals in justice for the wronged, and promises only equal treatment to all people, which means that anyone who can do the research to argue their case is entitled to present it and win if their argument is valid. The law cares nothing for morality.”

That was a new and somewhat alarming take on things. Hayden had never given it too much thought before, but had always imagined that things were very simple: right or wrong, good or bad. It hadn’t really occurred to him that one could be right and still lose.

Mentally shifting his perspective to absorb this new information, he asked, “If it’s in the Council’s best interest to keep my money and my house, then they can’t be happy with you telling me all of these things and helping foil their plans.”

She narrowed her eyebrows and replied, “I wasn’t planning on discussing my involvement in your case with my colleagues, and nor should you—unless you want to make a permanent enemy of the Trouts.” There was nothing threatening in her tone, but Hayden could read the intent plainly enough.

“Ah, so this is all a big secret?”

“Yes. You were never here, as far as anyone else is concerned. My staff are loyal and will not speak of this outside of the gates.”

Hayden nodded in understanding, and was about to ask why they were still standing in the library when Oliver and Lorn approached them from the other side of the room.

He prepared himself for snide insults out of sheer habit, though when Oliver came close enough he simply offered his hand and said, “Welcome to our home, Hayden. I hope you find it to your liking,” as though they were old friends.

Confused, Hayden shook his hand and said, “Uh, yeah…it’s cool.”

Magdalene smacked him in the back of the head hard enough to sting, and Hayden almost fell forward from the unexpected blow.

“What in the—”

“When you are in public areas in a formal setting, you will act appropriately,” Mrs. Trout cut him off before he could finish protesting. “The word ‘uh’ should not leave your mouth at any time, and you should comport yourself with dignity and professional courtesy.”

“I didn’t know that your house counted as a formal setting,” Hayden grumbled, wondering why Bonk was being so docile and not coming to his defense. “I also didn’t know I’d be getting hit for my mistakes.”

“It is the fastest way to make an impression with boys, and time is of the essence,” she continued without apology.

“So you’re saying that I have to pretend to like your sons for the next five weeks, even though all of us know that we can’t stand each other?”

“Yes, because that is the nature of the game. Any place where someone might see or hear you requires professionalism. You three can feel free to hate each other in private to your hearts’ content,” she explained dispassionately. “You can’t possibly think that I like or get along with half of the people that I invite into my home for parties or business meetings.”

Hayden opened his mouth and almost said, ‘Uh…’ before he caught himself and changed it quickly to, “I hadn’t given it much thought before now.”

“It is one of the many lessons you’ll learn over the next few weeks. You will have to be a fast learner in all areas of study if you have a hope of winning your case against the Council, and you can expect to be punished for your failures here in light of that fact.”

Lorn shot him a smug look at the thought of watching him get smacked repeatedly for weeks on end. Hayden was privately delighted when Magdalene leaned over and struck her youngest son on the back of the head for gloating publicly.

Well, at least she’s consistent.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Hayden acknowledged.

“Good. Oliver, show our guest around the estate and see that his basic needs are met. Lorn, get back to your training. Dinner will be held the formal dining room in one hour.”

She walked away from the three of them without another word, and suddenly Hayden found himself standing awkwardly in the library of a strange place with people who hated him, wondering how his day had gone downhill so quickly. When he woke up this morning, he’d had no idea that fighting a yeti would be the highlight of his afternoon.

Lorn slouched off, looking mulish about being reprimanded by his mother, while Oliver turned back to him and said, “Would you like to leave your things in your room before we continue your tour?”

There was something stuffed and forced about his politeness, but it was still disarming and kind of creepy to have Oliver treat him like a human being.

“Sure, thanks.”

“Try to sound less casual, or my mother will probably hit you again the next time she hears it.” There was something in his tone that made it obvious that he could receive no greater pleasure than watching Hayden get the snot smacked out of him, though he was resigned to doing his best to warn him in advance.

Feeling like he’d stepped into an alternate universe, Hayden took a deep breath and said, “Thank you, Oliver. Please, lead on.”

2

A New Kind of Lesson

Unlike his father’s manor, all of the bedrooms in the Trout estate were on the ground floor, and Hayden was led to a richly-furnished guest bedroom that afforded a nice view of the back yard, which he hadn’t seen on the way in. Looking out the window he could spot an area for hand-to-hand combat, fencing, and a dirt-floored place with targets and obstacles for practicing magic.

When the door shut behind them, Oliver relaxed and became more like his usual self.

“Is that all the stuff you brought with you?”

“I travel light,” Hayden replied with a frown, setting his bag on the edge of his bed and watching Bonk regard the slender, T-shaped post that he was meant to perch on with disdain. “I suppose we’re allowed to speak freely in here?”

“You don’t see any servants lurking around, do you?” Oliver sneered.

Hayden scowled. “This is going to be the worst winter holiday I’ve ever had, and that includes being at the orphanage in Merina.”

“It’s no picnic for Lorn and I either, having you here,” the older boy retorted. “If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.”

“Not until I get my stuff back.” Hayden assured him defiantly. “I’ll play whatever games I have to play, and learn whatever I have to learn, no matter how many times your mother smacks me for it.”

“Then you might stand a chance at winning,” Oliver conceded.

“I’m beginning to understand why you and Lorn are such snots. I used to think my mom was strict when she sent me to bed without dessert, but she never punched me in the head for simple breaches of etiquette.”

Oliver shrugged, unoffended. “My mother is powerful and influential in the magical community, and your mother was as common as they come. You don’t get to be where we are by being common; you get there by being fantastic at everything you do and playing the game better than everyone else.”

Hayden momentarily considered punching him for insulting his mother, but then considered that he
had
kind of insulted Magdalene Trout, and that punching Oliver would likely be considered a breach of etiquette worthy of getting him slapped again.

“Fine, then let’s put on our friendly faces and you can tour me around this small city before dinner.”

Oliver nodded and opened the door, unconsciously straightening his posture and leading Hayden back into the hall. Bonk took flight and soared above them, obviously keen on touring the place for himself, which didn’t appear to bother Oliver because he didn’t comment on it as they walked.

Hayden straightened his own posture as well, determined not to give anyone reason to criticize him if he could avoid it.

I’ll show the entire Trout family how fast a Frost can learn.

They wandered idly through the house, moving from room to room while Oliver pointed out all the things of interest and the household staff came and went. They were nothing but pleasant to each other on the surface, which felt odd but also entertaining, because there was an art form to conveying one’s dislike for another while being as overtly friendly as possible. It gave him a whole new perspective on how adults dealt with each other, and he wondered how many of the Council members actually liked each other, or how many of the teachers at Mizzenwald for that matter, and how much was just posturing for others.

Hayden’s stomach was growling by the time Oliver led him to the formal dining hall for dinner. Hayden was pleased to note that it was considerably smaller than the formal dining room at the Frost estate, which was intended to seat at least forty.

Magdalene and Lorn were already there, seated at one end of the table for twenty, where there were four plates and sets of silverware laid out. Hayden was a little daunted by how many forks, knives, spoons, and plates of different sizes were spread out for each of them.

The dish washers must cry every time they say they’re expecting guests.

“We’re eating in the formal dining room because I seem to recall your struggle with table manners the last time we met in Kargath,” Magdalene explained before he could ask.

Hayden felt his face burn at the memory of his second year at school, when the Council had decided to check up on him over breakfast and he had violated nearly every law of etiquette that existed in front of the most important mages in the Nine Lands.

“I wasn’t aware that the trial would be held over dinner,” he answered carefully, taking a seat across from her and beside Lorn, wondering if sarcasm was still allowed.

At least she can’t reach me easily from over there.

“It won’t, but staging it right after a meal is the sort of thing they might do to throw you off balance. If you’re embarrassed or flustered you will be easier to beat, and I don’t yet know how Calahan will play things during your trial, so we must prepare for everything.”

A servant in blue entered the room and placed a bowl of thin soup in front of each of them before departing.

“The spoon on your far right is for the soup. You’ll note that it is shorter and deeper than the others,” Mrs. Trout continued effortlessly, while Hayden examined the spoon in his hand and tried to commit it to memory. “It’s important not to begin eating until everyone has been served and the staff have left the room. It’s considered to be in poor taste to consume the entirety of any one course, though it’s not an unforgivable offense and is sometimes done. Still, when eating the soup, you should stop before you can see the bottom of the bowl, as a general rule. You should also pace yourself with the other diners at the table, so as not to finish too rapidly or too slowly, which also serves to moderate the amount of talking any one person at the table can do before they’re forced to shut up and eat.”

Hayden had no idea that there was so much effort involved in eating a bowl of soup, and tried to be mindful of everything he was told while darting glances at Oliver and Lorn for cues. Mrs. Trout eventually had to take her own advice and stop lecturing long enough to finish her soup—though of course, she left a little at the bottom of the bowl so as to be proper.

“Pat your mouth with your napkin,” she informed him upon finishing.

“But I didn’t get any soup on my face,” Hayden pointed out cautiously.

“That doesn’t really matter, it’s considered polite.”

What have I gotten myself into?

The bread course followed the soup, during which Hayden learned the function of the butter knife, the drizzling spoon, and the aptly-named bread fork. Next there was a fish stew, which involved some of the already-used plates and cutlery being removed from the table while new ones of different sizes and functionality were put down. It felt like a giant game of shuffle, but with dishes, all played to the tune of Mrs. Trout explaining the rules behind using each and every one of them.

By the end of dinner, Hayden was fairly certain his brain was going to explode if he had to retain another ounce of new knowledge tonight. He rose when Lorn did, and was preparing to head back to his room to rest when Magdalene informed him that she would send along his reading assignment for the night.

I’ve got homework?!

He was utterly exhausted from continuous nightmares and the strange day he’d had, and all he wanted to do was collapse into bed and pray for dreamless sleep.

Instead, when she knocked on his door fifteen minutes later carrying a six-hundred page tome about estate law and informed him that she wanted him to read the first four chapters tonight, he said, “Thank you for the opportunity to increase my knowledge.”

She smirked and said, “Not quite convincing in the sincerity department, but at least you’re a quick learner.”

And she left him to his reading.

It was quite possibly the most tedious, boring book Hayden had ever tried to sift through in his entire life. He yawned widely and struggled to stay awake, only two chapters into the material in the same number of hours. Bonk was rolling around on top of the bed sheets, clearly enjoying the luxurious fabrics, while Hayden sat cross-legged in bed and re-read the same paragraph about a law that was established three-hundred years ago and the case it was based on for the fourth time.

He blinked and must have fallen asleep, because when he snapped awake it was much later at night, and his neck ached from being slumped over awkwardly for so long. He cursed the nightmare that had woken him up, in which the Magistra came back to life and murdered Tess in front of him, though he supposed he should be thankful that he could finish his reading for the night. The last thing he needed was to get in trouble for not finishing his homework on his first day here.

Thinking that a glass of water might be nice, he climbed out of bed without disturbing Bonk (who refused to sleep on any perch) and crept quietly from the room.

The house looked strange with most of the lights out and the people gone, large and eerie. His footsteps sounded loud to him as he padded down the hallway, trying to remember the path to the kitchen or one of the bathrooms for a sink. He must have taken a wrong turn at some point, because he found himself back in the library without knowing how he got there.

He was about to turn and leave, but then noticed a gas lamp that was on near a reading alcove, and he approached it curiously, wondering who else was awake at this hour.

It was Magdalene Trout. He tried to back away before she could see him but didn’t move fast enough, and with a snap she shut her book and said, “Hayden, what are you doing out here at this hour?”

Caught, he stepped into the light and said, “Sorry, I was going to get a glass of water but I got turned around, and then I saw a light on over here so I came to investigate.”

To his surprise, she motioned for him to sit in a down-stuffed chair opposite her. He wondered if she was about to chew him out for being nosy.

“Have you finished the reading I assigned you?”

“Half of it, but then I fell asleep. I just woke up from a nightmare and was going to get a drink before I tackled the rest of it.” He frowned.

“How do you find it so far?” she asked with polite interest.

Hayden made a face and said, “Truthfully? It’s the most boring thing my eyes have ever attempted to scan, and I only understand half of what it’s telling me.”

Magdalene chuckled, looking much more human than the crisp, stern appearance she kept up during the day.

“Yes, it can be very boring. It will set the groundwork for our discussions tomorrow though, so it is important to wade through it as best you can.” She paused for a moment and then added, “Why are you having nightmares?”

Surprised by the change of subject, Hayden said, “I only mentioned the one.”

Mrs. Trout waved a dismissive hand at this. “You looked exhausted when I came to get you from your friend’s house, in a way that suggests you’ve lost more than a single night of rest.”

Annoyed that it was so obvious, Hayden muttered something about the Forest of Illusions and having a lot on his mind.

“Don’t tell me you’re upset because you fought in a war and won.” The stern look from earlier was on her face once more. “You’re being hailed as a hero; I’m told you received a Medal of Heroism from the High Mayor, even after all that trouble with the Fias at Mizzenwald.”

“The medal is half the problem,” Hayden blurted out. “I don’t deserve such a high honor for taking down those Suppressors. I didn’t even know what I was doing at the time, or that there was a chance I’d be horribly killed by magical backlash for even trying it. If I had, I might not have been brave enough to even attempt it. I was just running around the Forest, making things up as I went, and I got lucky.”

“I agree,” Mrs. Trout nodded. “You don’t deserve a medal for dumb luck. You could have been replaced by any magically-inclined idiot who happened to have three-inch Focus-correctors and we probably would have gotten the same result.”

Stunned at having someone finally agree with him when everyone else insisted on telling him what a great mage he was, Hayden said, “Well, yeah. So every time I look at the stupid thing, I feel like a fraud.”

“Unless you stole the medal, you aren’t a fraud. Whether you deserved it or not, you won it, and there’s no point feeling apologetic over it. Most of us got some kind of recognition from that skirmish in the Forest of Illusions, and some of those people did nothing but lie around moaning in their cages while the rest of us scraped up the Source power to keep fighting.” She spared the unknown mages in her mind a brief look of disdain. “My point is that it doesn’t matter. If they hadn’t rewarded
you
, it would have gone to someone else who likely deserved it even less.”

Hayden considered this for a moment and felt oddly reassured.

There must be something wrong with me if all it takes is someone telling me how useless I am to make me feel better.

“I know this is going to sound stupid, but in some ways my life was simpler when everyone shunned me for being the Dark Prism’s son,” Hayden continued, not sure why he was confiding these thoughts to his enemies’ mother when he hadn’t even shared them with his closest friends. “At least then I knew who my real friends were. Now I’m suddenly popular, and every time someone new wants to be buddies, I have to try and figure out whether they actually like me or they’re just trying to suck up because they think I’m going to be famous and powerful someday.”