The Villain Keeper (30 page)

The same sickly red color as the magic that had
stranded Caden in Asheville.

Ms. Aggie and Mr. Andre hobbled toward Jane and reached for her. “You're too late,” Ms. Aggie said.

The new moon had risen.

Caden jumped down from Sir Horace. His boots kicked up glowing red sand and snow. Ms. Aggie and Mr. Andre were still old, Jane Chan still a sand statue, so he wasn't too late. Besides, he knew something of this magic. He'd counteracted it at the trap. “Chase them away from her,” he told Sir Horace.

Sir Horace put his head down and moved toward them. Ms. Aggie tried to shoo him away like some sort of insect. Sir Horace bared his teeth and nipped. Mr. Andre swung his cane in attack, but Sir Horace bit it in half.

Caden ran to the doorway, dropped down, and filled his arms with snow. The room was warm and the snow would melt fast inside it. He dashed across the room and tossed it on sand-covered Jane Chan. She would be saved this night. She wouldn't die like Chadwin. He ran out and repeated the process. He had to save her.

On his third run for snow, he heard a terrible, inhuman screech from the dark mountainside. A huge flash of fire exploded in the storm, lit the sky, and went out. Caden felt his stomach flip, his jaw tighten. His friends still battled in the snow, and now the mountain was a wall of night. He had to hurry.

By the fourth armful, the snow on Jane was melting, the
sand beginning to fall away. She would not die alone and with tears on her cheeks like Chadwin. The glow from the sand began to change. From bloodred it turned to shining gold. The sand flaked off her body like petals on a wind. Her pale skin felt warm and she was breathing. Her dark hair fanned out around her shoulders. But she didn't wake.

Satisfied she was at least alive, Caden dragged her to the relative safety of the far corner.

Sir Horace had Ms. Aggie and Mr. Andre cowering in the back. “She'll get you,” Mr. Andre said, but Caden did not fear little old lunch people.

“Keep them there,” Caden told Sir Horace. Sir Horace put his ears back, bared his teeth, and neighed. Caden turned and ran out to the mountain, into the snow and darkness, into the battle.

Two steps out the door, though, he stopped. Tito stood uphill with his broom. Brynne's hat was draped on the charred bristles and it burned like a sun. One of the ice-dragons came into sight. It attacked with open mouth and ferocious speed.

Caden yelled to Tito and ran to help him, but the snow was thick. His boots sank deep with each step. His intended dash was slow and difficult. “It attacks!” he said.

If Tito heard him, he showed no sign. He stood motionless. Caden scrambled up the slope, but the dragon was closer to Tito and faster than Caden. Just as its muzzle made contact, Tito jammed the flaming broom right between its teeth.

Caden sank down almost knee-deep in the snow.

The dragon swallowed the fire. It lit up from inside, and blew up like a fireball. The wail was earsplitting, the flash blinding. Then all went dark and quiet. He didn't see Tito anywhere.

Caden feared for Tito's life. He sprinted uphill as best he could and called out in alarm. “Sir Tito! Sir Tito!”

The mountain was black and slick. Caden could hear coughing. He tracked Tito's voice and found him moments later, lying in the snow. “Are you well, friend?” he said, and patted Tito's arms. Tito still had two, so that was something.

“Yeah,” Tito said.

He seemed dazed, but he recovered quickly and pushed Caden's helpful royal hands away. “Get off me.”

As Caden's panic for his friend dimmed, something occurred to him. While he'd been threatening the elderly, Sir Tito, the Elite Paladin in training of Asheville, had slain a dragon.

Caden heard Tito rummaging in his backpack. A second later, the bright light of Tito's flashlight shone in Caden's face.

“Extinguish the light,” Caden said. “The other dragon—”

“Your girl set her coat on fire and took out the other one with her bare hands. She's crazy, bro.”

It was horrible. It was unfair. It couldn't be. Caden grabbed Tito's flashlight and shone it on him as he struggled to his feet. “Each of you has slain a dragon?”

Brynne staggered down the hill. “That's right, prince. We are mighty, Sir Tito and I.” When he shone the light on her, her skin and lips looked blue, and as expected her coat was gone. Her fuzzy white sweater was the color of muck. She looked far too cold, sounded far too weak.

Caden gave the light back to Tito, took off his coat, and gave it to Brynne. Without it, the magnitude of the cold became apparent to him. Both Brynne and Tito had been in the snow far too long. He shielded Brynne from the stinging snow as best he could and helped her down the hill. “Jane Chan appears well, but she has not awoken,” he said. “It's warm in the structure; we should get inside it.”

Tito was already running toward the shed. “You left her alone in there?”

Caden bristled. “Sir Horace is with her,” he said. As he watched Tito sprint, he felt a warmth in his belly despite the snow. They'd done it. Jane hadn't died like his brother. They'd saved her. Caden was almost speechless. Almost. “She's alive,” he said, and in spite of everything, it seemed hard to believe. He turned to Brynne and felt his lips crack from the cold as he smiled. “She's alive,” he said, “and we saved her.”

C
aden and Brynne trudged into the metal structure. The storm's winds rushed through the doorway. Overhead, the lanterns flickered and the dead animals swayed.

Tito knelt beside Jane. His hands shook as he checked her; he seemed shocked they'd found her alive, shocked at the dead animals above and the evil lunch lady and lunch man huddled in the opposite corner. Jane's eyes remained closed.

Beside Caden, Brynne shivered. He tugged his coat snugly around her and helped her ease down and sit near Tito.

“I don't require your aid,” she said.

“You're frozen, sorceress.”

“As are you, prince.”

True, Caden's face tingled and his hands were cold, but he doubted he was the same bluish color as her. “I had my coat.”

Brynne reached in his coat pocket and pulled out his pink phone. Some of the sparkly stones were missing. The screen was cracked and it fell off as she held it out. “The ice dragon hit you hard, though.” As she gazed at his phone, she looked sad. “Mine is lost to the snow.”

“Mine's in my pack,” Tito said. He opened his backpack and took out the first aid kit, and the blanket, then wrapped the latter around Jane's shoulders. “I'll call for help.”

For someone who'd spent dusk battling an ice dragon with a broom, he looked amazingly unscathed. His hair endured in the same slick ponytail. His dark clothes were neither torn nor tattered.

Tito seemed to sense Caden's scrutiny. “What?”

“You look well.”

Tito fussed between Jane and his backpack but stopped to spare them a glance. “Well, you two look like crap.” He looked again and frowned. “Cold crap. You okay?”

“We're not as good as you,” Caden said.

“Whatever that's supposed to mean,” Tito said. “Here.” He pulled his outermost sweatshirt off and tossed it to Caden. “Since you're so delicate and all.”

Caden was an eighth-born prince, trained by the Elite Guard and his seven noble brothers, trained even by his father, the king. He was the opposite of delicate. Without
his coat, however, he was cold. He pulled the sweatshirt on over his sweater. It was warmer than nothing.

Tito pointed at him. “Just don't tell anyone at school I gave you my shirt.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You do all sorts of weird things.”

Brynne laughed at that. She looked around, but her gaze seemed to set on Tito for a long moment. Caden peered, too. Tito was leaning over his bag, hunting for his phone; the half elf's necklace of protection glittered near his neck. Brynne nodded to it.

Tito slew the dragon with his bravery, wit, and fortitude. None could deny that. He had been brave and smart. His natural skill was unquestionable.

His quality of character, however, didn't explain his neat appearance. It was too cold outside, Tito was too new to battle, and the ice dragons too vile of opponents for him to escape without as much as a rip in his clothes. That was the work of something else, something powerful.

It seemed Rath Dunn was wrong. Tito's necklace was more than a mere trinket, Jane Chan's skills more than a novelty.

Tito found his phone and dialed 911. “The signal's breaking up.”

From the back corner, Mr. Andre banged what was left of his cane against the wall. Without their youth and Ms. Jackson, without their magic traps, Mr. Andre and Ms.
Aggie seemed weak and pitiful.

“Let us talk about this; no need to call the police,” Mr. Andre called out. “We should work together—we have much to offer.” Cautiously, he peered around Sir Horace, hands out as he darted his gaze worriedly from Sir Horace to Tito and back again. He inched toward them. As he got close to Sir Horace, Sir Horace forced him back to the corner.

Brynne snorted and turned away. She bundled up like a ball in Caden's coat. “They have nothing to offer.” She leaned her head against the metal wall and rested her eyes.

Caden used his foot to nudge her. “Don't sleep,” he said. “You're too cold.”

“I'm fine.” The strength of her glare showed returning health and renewed vigor. “Caden, eighth-born prince of Razzon,” she said. “You forget. I'm not your subject.”

Caden glanced to the back of the shed. Mr. Andre and Ms. Aggie remained cornered by Sir Horace. “I suppose you sound strong enough,” he said.

“Strong,” Tito said. “That girl's a dragon slayer.”

Caden crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. “I'm well aware that everyone's a dragon slayer but me.”

Tito looked from Caden to Jane Chan and back. “You saved Jane,” he said as if it was worthy of greater acclaim.

“Dragons.” Brynne snorted. Then she glanced up at Caden. “Tito and I have slain ice dragons, but you faced and charmed an Elderdragon.” She snuggled under his
coat and raised a brow. “That is a feat of renown. Much more impressive than destroying a bundle of mindless chaos like an ice dragon.”

Caden wasn't sure if his father would agree with Brynne on that or not. He looked away. His gift of speech was one he needed to better understand, that was certain. And the forgotten languages tugged at his curiosity. Beside him, Tito held his phone toward the rafters and tried 911 again.

“There's no need to call, no need for that,” Ms. Aggie called out. She and her brother remained at Sir Horace's mercy. “No harm done. The girl's fine.”

Tito's face turned red, and he clenched his fists. He'd been bound to explode or weep at some point and it seemed anger had won out. “Stop talking!”

His shout echoed against the metal walls. As if his voice broke the last shards of the spell, Jane Chan's eyelids fluttered. She looked at Tito with a slight frown.

The fury drained from Tito's face, and he dropped to his knees beside her, his phone held loosely in his hand. “Jane? Hey, you okay?”

“Tito?” She blinked at him. “Where . . . ? I've had bad dreams.” She glanced to the rafters, to the animal carcasses hanging down. “The deer were screaming.”

The animals probably did scream, and if anyone could sense wildlife's cries, it would be an elf. “Elves are close to nature,” Caden said.

Jane turned to Caden. Her eyes were warm and kind,
her skin pale. She was pretty in a regular way, like a daisy in the Springlands. She scrunched her face and looked back to Tito. “Did Rosa bring home another one?” she said.

“Sort of. Don't worry, he's, uh . . . ,” Tito said. “He's cool, I guess.”

“Actually, I'm cold,” Caden said, and Jane laughed. She'd been a long time kept in sand and nightmares. Recovery would take time. “She seems confused.”

“She's been missing well over a week,” Tito said.

“What? I haven't . . .” Jane struggled to sit up. Tito tried to help her, but she froze when she was eye level with his shirt. She reached for the glinting chain around his neck. “You're wearing my necklace.”

“Oh, yeah. We found it on the mountain,” Tito said. He blushed and reached to take it off. “I was just—”

“No,” Jane said. She settled back and closed her eyes. “No, you keep it. I want you to wear it.”

“You do?” Tito said, but she was back asleep.

Brynne opened her eyes. With an arch of the brow, she turned toward the lunch witches. “What of them?”

Tito also looked to the back corner.

Sir Horace pranced and nipped. Ms. Aggie and Mr. Andre trembled under his guard. Sir Horace, however, deserved a chance to run with the blizzard, to prance in the snow.

Caden stood and brushed dirt from his jeans. “Tell me,
Sir Tito, have you rope among your supplies?”