Caden's Comet Page 7

  Collapsing on the nearest cushion, I rubbed the sweat out of my eyes.

  “Believe me now?” I asked.

  “I believe that you don’t know how to harness your power yet, but I’m not giving up.”

  Only then did I notice that I’d fallen right against his chest, my shoulder nuzzled into the space between arm and ribs. Moving would have drawn attention to our position; not moving would mean cuddling, a level of intimacy I wasn’t sure either of us was comfortable with yet.

  “So we’re soulmates, huh?” Caden asked, probably trying to break the silence. “That’s pretty weird, right?”

  “Really weird.”

  “So what’s supposed to happen now?” he asked.

  “I have no idea. We’re supposed to reunite the dragon clans, but no one ever mentioned how we’re supposed to do that.”

  “Oh.”

  More awkward silence.

  “The good news is we don’t need to go our whole lives searching for the perfect match like other people do,” he said optimistically. “All the work was done before we were born.”

  That did not make me feel better either.

  “We should take it slow,” Caden suggested. “Find some things in common first so our whole relationship isn’t based on physical attraction.”

  Now that was new. All of the boys I’d dated on Draman had been interested in only one thing, and it wasn’t finding shared interests. His suggestion also meant he was already physically attracted to me, which was a relief; I wasn’t sure I could handle another Blair situation, even if I wasn’t the one in the destiny dilemma.

  “Are you always this logical?” I asked, repeating his favorite word.

  “Always. It’s not that I don’t have emotions. I just prefer not to let them control me. In prison, logic was what kept me alive.”

  I saw his point. But what could an overly rational Earth Dragon and an alien prince possibly have in common? My world was about as far from Caden’s as Merlin’s medieval life was from New York City. I hadn’t grown up with TV or diners or even strawberries. I had no siblings, no experience with magic, and no real trials besides Sara Lee’s disappearance and the feeling of being a Sun Dragon outcast among Bone Dragons.

  Wait a minute. My mind reversed to the part about Sara Lee, and I took a deep breath to prepare myself.

  “Caden, did you happen to meet a woman named Sara Lee on the planet where Shull kept you prisoner? She has short hair, or at least she did before, and always wore a Dramanian uniform.”

  He thought for a minute.

  “Actually, now that I think about it, yes. We called her General—no one there used their real name—and she stayed in the work camp for a few days before they took her away.”

  “Away? To where?”

  “The place where everyone went when they disappeared. People went in, but they never came out.”

  “Was it a prison?”

  “No clue. The ships landed on the other side of the building, so for all I know, they stuck her in one and took her away. Why? Did you know her?”

  “She was my mother.”

  I got up to pace the room, but on my way across, something—or rather, someone—appeared. I crashed right into the newcomer, and we both fell into the glass table in the middle of the living room.

  On closer inspection I found the person was a young boy of about thirteen. He wore a blue suit with the wizard Council’s C beneath his breast pocket, which he adjusted immediately upon standing. Out of his pocket came a blue slip of paper with quill ink scrawled across it, and he read from this with a careful monotone.

  “On behalf of the Council, I extend my warmest welcomes to Prince Grian, who—”

  “Arty?” Caden asked. “Is that you?”

  “Cousin Caden?” Arty looked uncertainly down at the slip, as though trying to decide if he would be disobeying his orders by saying words of his own. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s a long story. Why don’t you tell us what you’re doing here first?”

  “Right.” He returned to the slip of paper. “Where was I? Oh, yes. Prince Grian, who has traveled across the universe to challenge Shull’s rule—”

  “Now wait a minute,” I said, “who said anything about me challenging his rule? I was merely finding my soulmate, which I did, and then—”

  “—in an epic battle,” Arty hurried on, “to decide the fate of Earth once and for all. The wizards, though impartial in dragon matters, would like to meet Prince Grian to determine if he has magical powers that could sway their opinion. If Grian says yes, take him to—oh, my apologies, that was not meant to be read out loud.”

  Blair came into the living room at that moment.

  “What’s little wizard man doing here?” she asked as she ruffled Arty’s hair. He smoothed the locks and scowled at her. Arty looked much more like Blair than Caden, with his wide hazel eyes and curly hair. Then again, maybe Caden’s hair would have been curly too if he hadn’t been buzzed.

  “Apparently he’s summoning us to the Council,” Caden said. He playfully grabbed me by the neck and shook me. “They’re bringing out the big Egg for our new friend.”

  “Right now?” Blair looked down at her borrowed pajamas. “I’m not dressed….”

  “Don’t worry, Cousin. The wizards will dress you in their new line of Council-approved suits upon arrival. Now come—there’s no time to waste.”

  I knew I should listen to Merlin and stay put, especially because I had no idea how the Council had found us, but the prospect of finally holding the famous Egg in my hands and letting it test me in front of everyone was too great to pass up. I could practically hear the whispers as I broke open the shell and flooded the bowl with diamonds, or even better, a light dragon like Allanah. Plus, Merlin was probably with the Council, and our cover was blown anyway.

  “Okay,” I agreed without thinking further. “We’ll go.”

  “But Grian—”

  “No arguments. Merlin trusts the Council, and therefore so do we.”

  I’d heard stories, passed down the line from Merlin to Skelly or Allanah to my mothers, about the Council’s Mobile Mustangs, so imagine my disappointment when we walked out the front door and found no vintage car waiting on the dusty road. We didn’t have cars on Draman, and because Merlin had been teleporting me around the United States, I still hadn’t had the chance to ride in one.

  “No Mobile Mustang?” I asked, trying to keep the regret out of my voice.

  “Not to worry, Your Highness. Our Mobile Mustangs are just a little more mobile now than they were before.”

  Arty removed a keychain from his suit pocket and clicked the center button. Within seconds, a beautiful new car with the word Mustang across the back appeared right in front of us. It was electric blue with two dark blue racing stripes down the center, leather seats, and a drop-down COUNCIL license plate. The car was everything I could have asked for.

  “Enjoy this,” Arty said as we piled in the back. “It’s going to be a quick ride.”

  The next thing I knew, we were inside the Council garage.

  Chapter Ten

  TRUE TO his word, Arty led Blair to the women’s dorms in the Council’s Level Five skyscraper and then Caden and I to the men’s dorms. Apparently Caden had not been inside the Mansion—still called that despite now being four skyscrapers—since his initial Egg test.

  “I’m only a Level Two,” Caden explained. “Fixing a few TVs was never going to get me back in this building. But you—you have a real shot.”

  His optimism was contagious. As he filled me in on the Egg system—a phoenix for Level Five, diamonds for Level Four, water for Level Three, sand for Level Two, and plain yolk for Level One—I couldn’t help hoping I produced one of the top levels’ symbols from the Egg. Imagine being the first Bone Dragon born as a Sun Dragon, plus having magical powers.

  Arty brought us two suits, which he explained the Council had switched to because their robes, and then later the uniforms, we
re from a time before Merlin’s rescue. Though their memories had been wiped, the wizards were unsettled by the alternate timeline Merlin had described, and they apparently wanted a fresh start.

  The suits were dark blue corduroy but enchanted to stay cool in the spring and warm in the winter, making an additional coat unnecessary. The tufted cords were of the highest quality, and the C was sewn onto the breast with actual gold thread. In addition to the jacket and pants, Arty gave us two dark blue button-up shirts, gold cufflinks, and dark blue shoes that, to my amazement, fitted themselves perfectly to my feet.

  “Looking good,” Caden teased when he caught me looking at myself in the mirror. “If you get yolk, you could always ask them to hire you as a model.”

  “Oh, the Council already has official models,” Arty said, missing the joke. “The process is quite arduous and involves magic of the shapeshifting kind, which is surprisingly advanced for…. What are you laughing at? Oh.”

  “It’s okay, cuz,” Caden said as he locked an arm around Arty’s neck and pretended to wrestle with him. “A sense of humor isn’t part of a page’s job description.”

  Arty got a text on his cell phone, interrupting the raucousness.

  “They’re ready for you,” Arty said, his voice instantly grave. “It’s time to be tested.”

  As we made our way down the hallway, wizards stopped to stare at us and whisper. Earth Dragon. Grian and Caden. Shull. Their eyes followed us, burrowing into my back as we passed.

  “It’s okay,” Caden said as he touched my elbow. “They’re just curious.”

  But I was used to being stared at, and it didn’t bother me. I was a prince, after all, as well as the only Sun Dragon on my planet. Being stared at was basically what I did all day unless I chose to stay in the castle and hide. Nimue and I even went on outings to the villages specifically for this purpose. Let the people see you, she always said. They fear leaders they cannot see but fight for the leaders they can.

  Downstairs, the gathering hall was packed. Not only did wizards and witches fill every row of the risers, but a crowd stood behind the risers and in the hallway hoping for a glimpse of the action or a chance to hear the outcome. Unlike previous Egg tests I’d heard of, there were no other students eagerly awaiting their chance at the Egg; it was just me.

  “Good luck,” Caden whispered before taking his assigned seat in the front row next to Blair. Arty approached the two wizards and the one witch who sat in the Council seats up front, and then they motioned me forward.

  “Council members, may I introduce Prince Grian, leader of Draman and first Sun Dragon born on his planet.”

  “We are very pleased to meet you,” the youngest member, probably in her early twenties by the look of her fresh face and ponytail, said in a low voice. “Shull has become more than a pest over the past year, and we worry that he is amassing an army to expand his rule to not just Earth but every planet in the universe. Naturally, he does not take kindly to our requests to observe his facilities on a routine basis, and just last week one of our monitors went missing. After the ceremony, we hope to question your friend Caden about his capture. Perhaps he will offer leads on our monitor’s whereabouts. It is possible Shull has found a way to stop wizards from using their magic, which would make him unstoppable.”

  The desperation on their faces was evident. Shull scared them, and after one trip to his office, I could understand why. “Let him break the Egg first,” the man on her left said. He had a beard and was probably in his forties, while the second man was clean-shaven but around the same age. “Then we’ll talk.”

  “Of course. Prince Grian, please stand at the front of the stage, and a page will bring the Egg to you.”

  I did as she said. Arty brought the Egg on a cushion, and a second page held the bowl into which I would break the Egg to determine my level. The white orb was warm and heavy, though any of the materials could make it feel that way.

  Please change, I whispered to the Egg in my head. Show them who I really am.

  In one swift motion, I cracked the Egg on the side of the bowl and pried the two sides open. There, in the middle of the golden disc, was a result I had never heard of before:

  Nothing.

  The chatter started immediately. I looked at Arty for assistance, but he looked as confused as me.

  “What does it mean?” I asked the Council, who were deep in deliberation. “I don’t have magic?”

  “This has never been seen before,” the girl, who seemed to be the leader of the Council, said finally. “The Egg always contains yolk, so to make it disappear is magic in itself… but not magic that translates into a grade in our assignment system.”

  New magic, the crowd whispered to those in the back who could not hear. Never been done.

  Pride surged through me. Sure, an empty Egg wasn’t quite the same as producing a dragon like Allanah, but it was still pretty special.

  “Of course it doesn’t translate,” a voice said from the back of the room. Then Merlin appeared, looking quite displeased as he used his walking stick to make his way to the stage. “It’s not wizard magic.”

  “I TOLD you to find a safe place and wait for me,” Merlin said sternly once the spectators had disappeared. “And instead, I find you here, showing the world your powers.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized again. “Arty came for us, and—”

  “And you couldn’t resist finding out if you had magical abilities,” he finished. “Being a prince and a Sun Dragon wasn’t enough; you wanted to be a wizard too?”

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out. What he said was true; I had been tempted by the thought of more power.

  “And you,” Merlin said, turning to the Council. “You know Shull has wizard spies working for him. What if they were in the crowd and are now spilling Grian’s secret as we speak? Sure, you’ve given the wizards hope when the future looks so bleak, but at what cost?”

  The leaders looked down at their hands.

  “I trust that from now on, my advice will be heeded,” Merlin continued. “For not just Grian’s safety, but the safety of the whole Mansion.”

  “Yes, Merlin,” we all answered in unison.

  “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to the important business I was in the middle of when this hullabaloo drew my attention: forming a plan to break Shull’s prisoners out of their confinements.”

  This news startled me. “How did you hear about that so quickly?” I asked, curious how Merlin had found out about the prison without meeting with Caden, the only known survivor and escapee.

  “I was summoned to the place by an old friend, who was told about the planet by an even older friend,” he said before pressing his lips together. Skelly, I realized, had been the one to call him. “I’ve learned that almost all of the political prisoners missing in the last fifteen years, wizard and dragon alike, are being kept—”

  “Outside the solar system?” I interrupted.

  “Outside the solar system?” Merlin, uninvited, took the empty seat next to the Council chairs and leaned his stick at his side against the armrest. “Don’t be ridiculous. Travel times would be a nightmare, and plus, with all of the technology humans have now, ‘outside the solar system’ is just their backyard. Shull is much cleverer than that. Using whatever magical allies the Earth Dragon has cultivated, he’s created a secret base in the center of Jupiter to house his enemies.”

  “Jupiter?” I thought back to the brief description of this solar system I had received as a young boy. “The gaseous planet made mostly of hydrogen and helium?”

  “With a rocky core. Perfect for hiding things inside that you don’t want to risk losing, since they would have no option of escape.”

  “You believe you could free these prisoners?” the head of the Council asked.

  “I do indeed. But I’ll need—” Suddenly, Merlin cocked his head as though listening to something only he could hear. Then he waved his hand, and when he stopped, we were all in a new
place.

  From my recent trip to the state, I knew the desert in front of us was New Mexico. Merlin had dropped the Council, chairs included, onto the very top of a mountain, while Blair, Caden, and I stood with Merlin on the next ledge, so close to the edge that my toes peeked over.

  “What happened?” Blair asked, but Merlin shushed her. He looked to the west, where smoke drifted through the air, and pointed to a spot that looked just like the rest of the desert. Now that I had my bearings, using my army training, I knew what I was looking for: Allanah and Dena’s house.

  Under the duress of fire, the protection spell finally broke. Smoke puffed out from the roof and mushroomed outward, and the smell of charred wood reached all the way to the mountain. The smoke had a greenish blue tint, most likely the remains of the Igreefee spells on the plants and the wizard spells on the house, which faded into red as flames leaped.

  No one spoke for a long time, not until the house had burned all the way to the ground.

  “Who could have done this?” Blair finally asked. She had grabbed for my arm during transport and had not let go.

  “There is only one suspect,” Merlin said. His eyes narrowed, and his mouth became one thin line of red within his beard. “And he will pay for this.”

  After the fire subsided and the Council had been returned to the Mansion with the promise that we would meet them there, Merlin, Caden, Blair, and I traveled down to what was left of the house. Some of the bones remained—a crossbeam here, a half sheet of drywall there—but all of Allanah and Dena’s things were gone.

  “The greatest loss is the trees,” Merlin said as he pressed a palm to the few charred feet of tree trunk. “These were my mother’s other children, and they have stood in this backyard for many years, even after her death. They were strong, like her, and their roots went deep.”

  Even though I had never met Allanah and Dena, the burning touched me deeper than I could explain. Perhaps the loss reminded me of my own mother, whom I had not seen in many years; perhaps it reminded me of the loss of Earth, and the decline I could not possibly remember and yet did, in some unexplainable way. Tears filled my eyes, and I did not brush them from my cheeks.