The Chrysalis Key, page 33
“Aiden. Aiden Chan,” said Aiden.
Henry glanced at him in surprise but he just shrugged in return. If he was coming to Morktalis, he wanted it to be a new start under his mother’s name.
They both spelled their names for the man, and he wrote it down in an untidy black scrawl under a long list of names.
“Entry pass!” Gulp held out a broad, pudgy hand.
Aiden and Henry glanced at each other. “We…don’t have one,” said Henry slowly.
Gulp’s green eyebrows shot up. “You must have a pass to get through the smog.” And when the boys returned him blank looks, he threw his hands up in the air. With eyes bulging, he said, “It’s poison? It’ll kill you on impact?”
Aiden turned to look back through the doorway where the black smoke curled in a sinister way. They had just walked through dark magic and not realised it. Memory shot through Aiden like a bullet through flesh. He swore, swinging his duffle bag around. He rummaged behind Deagon’s books until found the metal tin he kept his important things in.
“Is this it?” he asked, bringing out the matte-black card Roland White had given him back at Chrysalis.
“Yes,” said Gulp, sighing loudly in relief.
He took it and stared at it. Aiden tried to see what he was looking at because, as far as he knew, the card was blank. Gulp looked up at Aiden, a deep frown on his face. “You are here for the headmaster?”
“Um, not today,” said Aiden quickly, taking the card back. “For the Curse Master, actually. Ramos Gulthair?”
Gulp nodded and turned to Henry. “And yours?”
“My what?” asked Henry.
“Your pass.”
“This is it,” said Aiden, holding up the card before putting it back into the tin.
Gulp’s brown eyes bore into Henry’s grey ones before he looked down at the pad where he had written their names. He looked back up at Henry and stared. Aiden looked between the two of them, trying to gauge what this meant.
“Very well,” said Gulp, in a considerably softer voice. Then he boomed formally, “Please declare your weapons!”
“Uh—” Aiden shrugged, and Henry shook his head. “We don’t have any.”
Gulp’s head recoiled into his enormous neck, and he frowned deeply at them. “No w—” Then, he shook himself and cleared his throat. “Through the gate then.”
Aiden walked first through the stone archway and cast his eyes around the black hall. So, this was Morktalis. Something jumped in his belly, and he knew at that moment he was making the right decision. The place had a dark aura around it, certainly, but there was so much more. The sweet swoosh of Power filled the air so densely here that Aiden could’ve choked on it. It was brilliant. He turned back to Gulp as Henry strode through the security arch.
From his desk, Gulp pursed his lips then pointed behind Aiden down the left of the entrance hall. “Curse Master’s that way,” he called. “Follow the signs.”
Aiden thanked the guy, and the two of them hurried across the black marble to the wide-opened doorway off to the side of the staircase. Behind it was a long, dark corridor lit only by naked flames on sconces on the wall.
“Do they not have electricity here?” Aiden wondered out loud.
A tiny voice called out from the air behind them. “Incoming!”
Aiden turned and ducked, pulling a stunned Henry with him. Over them zoomed a shiny red miniature aeroplane with rotating blades at its nose. In the cockpit was a tiny toad-like creature wearing huge round, plastic goggles, cackling madly as he zoomed down the corridor.
“What the—” exclaimed Henry.
Aiden let out a short laugh. “Let’s go.”
This place is going to be awesome, he thought. It had already thoroughly exceeded his expectations.
They walked down the corridor, with wide oak doors lining both sides, each with a nameplate nailed into it. Henry read the names on the left while Aiden read the names on the right. They hadn’t walked three steps before Henry grabbed Aiden’s arm, inhaling sharply. “Aiden, look,” he whispered.
Aiden turned to find the only set of wooden double-doors in the corridor. The gold plate on the door read “Giblet Horn—CORONER.”
“What kind of school has a coroner?” asked Henry, disgusted. “And look, there!”
Aiden bit his lip, shaking his head as he read “Yama Ichigai—DEATH MASTER” on the adjacent door. “I don’t know,” he murmured, “but I’m going to find out.”
They continued walking down the corridor, their sneakers soundless against the marble, reading more disturbing name plates as they passed.
“Fester Woodlen—TRAUMA MASTER”
“Calder Fairbarrow—DEMONOLOGIST”
“Leif Sinjin—DEMON HIGH PRIEST”
“Chastity Marama—DEMON HIGH PREISTESS”
Finally, Aiden murmured to Henry when he read “Ramos Gulthair—CURSE MASTER”
The boys stood in front of the door, staring at the dark grain. Then, Henry stepped forward and knocked on the door.
After a moment, a deep voice called. “Enter.”
Henry breathed in deeply and turned the bronze handle, pushing the door open. The first thing Aiden saw were books. All the same size and grouped into colours on floor-to-ceiling shelves on all four walls of the room, interrupted by the door and a space on the wall opposite where it opened up to another room beyond, lined with even more full shelves. The second thing Aiden saw was a child-sized desk of black wood. Sitting behind it on a grand, similarly sized regal chair was a small man, no more than five feet tall. He wore a long black robe buttoned from floor to collar with blood-red buttons. His hair was long and black, tied in a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. On the front of his neck was an angry red scar in the shape of some symbol that Aiden did not recognise from any of Deagon’s books. His only other marking was a series of tiny tattoos on his bottom lip. He was writing in a tomb-sized ledger with thick, harsh strokes.
“Good afternoon,” said Henry politely.
“How can I help you?” said Ramos Gulthair in an unexpectedly deep, deadpan voice. He didn’t look up from his writing.
Henry took a deep breath. “I’m here to find out about how to break a curse.”
“Indeed,” Ramos said in the same bored voice.
“Yes,” said Henry politely. “Um…a family curse between the Jolt and Malhaven family.”
The pen ceased its movement, and Ramos raised his head slowly. So slowly, in fact, that Aiden shifted awkwardly on the spot.
“Ah,” said Ramos, studying Henry with assessing green eyes. He slid off his chair and abruptly turned into the corridor at the back of the room, shifting a wooden ladder down the row of shelves and proceeding to climb up it.
“Fifty years ago, wasn’t it—no...fifty-five,” he muttered to himself. Aiden craned his neck to see the Curse Master riffling through a book he’d selected off the shelf.
“What are all these?” Aiden asked, half expecting not to get an answer.
“The Ledger of Curses,” Ramos said, snapping the book shut and climbing down the ladder. He came back to his desk and levelled Aiden a look as if disgusted he hadn’t already known that.
“So you record curses here?” asked Aiden, not caring and continuing to stare in wonder, turning to see the enormous number of ledgers.
Ramos ignored him. Placing the ledger open on the desk, he ran a finger across the text written there, murmuring, “Yes. Yes. Yes. I see.”
Aiden had the strongest urge to stand next to Ramos and read the book, too, but an equally strong urge made him want to stay as far away as possible from the man.
Ramos then looked up at Henry and frowned. He strode over to the boys and stood in front of Henry, the top of his head barely reaching Henry’s chest. He held his hands up and closed his eyes for a moment. Henry’s hands suddenly reached for his temples.
“Ouch!”
Ramos leaned in towards Henry, eyes searching. “No,” he breathed.
“What?” asked Henry, recoiling from the man.
Ramos shook himself, flapping his hands as if getting rid of bad energy. He narrowed his eyes at Henry. “Your Power is pure. There is no colour to it. It is unable to be corrupted. How did you do it?”
“I haven’t done anything,” said Henry, defensively. “It was done to me.”
Ramos Gulthair growled low in his throat. “That is ridiculous.”
“You’re telling me,” said Henry.
Ramos looked over his nose at Henry, tilting his forehead towards him as if seeing him for the first time. “There is something more here we are missing. Your curse, on the other hand, has been corrupted.”
“By the Red General,” said Henry dully. “Well, actually a guy called the Architect did it for him.”
Ramos stepped back and looked between Henry and Aiden. His face taking on a sudden stony expression. “Are you servants of the Red?”
“No!” said Henry loudly.
“Definitely not,” assured Aiden, rolling his eyes. “The guy is trying to murder Henry.”
“Oh,” breathed Ramos, his eyes brightening. “I see. Yes, I see.”
“What is it?” asked Henry, teetering on his feet.
“The Red General is weakening, isn’t he?” Ramos excitedly. He began pacing the room. “This is interesting. You see…he has redirected your family energy towards himself. But the Jolt Power is pure and uncorruptible, and the Red General is a creature of darkness. In order to use Power, he must corrupt it towards the dark. But with your Power, he cannot do that. So he is funnelling pure Power against his choice, and it is weakening the darkness in him. Hm.”
Aiden gaped at the Curse Master. Things had gotten even more complicated, but at least they made sense now. That was why the Red General looked unwell when Hugh saw him. Perhaps they had a chance at saving the kids after all.
“Can you help me?” asked Henry quickly. “My brother is dying, and the Red General is after me. The professors at Chrysalis couldn’t help me—”
“Them!” Ramos spat, stopping his pacing. “Don’t know the difference between a curse and hex, do they?” He held his chin. “But they knew your answer, young Jolt, oh yes… They knew how to break the curse. They just wouldn’t tell you.” His eyes sparkled and Aiden didn’t like his look at all.
Henry stepped backwards. “What do you mean?”
A sinking feeling curled in Aiden’s belly as he eyed the now smirking Ramos Gulthair, the tattoos on his lower lip stretching.
“The formula is simple,” Ramos said lightly. “From death the curse was made. Only death will break it.”
“What—”
“A Malhaven died to start the curse,” Ramos continued. “A Jolt must die to break it. Simple neutralisation. Do they not teach you algebra where you come from?” He looked at both boys up and down.
Aiden glanced at Henry, who stared, chalky white and unblinking, at the Curse Master. But Ramos didn’t seem to notice, because he abruptly turned and went back to his desk, bending swiftly to open a drawer. He straightened, bringing out a navy crystal bottle with a skull on the stopper. He brandished it nonchalantly. “This’ll do the job.”
“Do what exactly?” Asked Aiden, glancing at the white-faced Henry and realising he needed to carry the conversation now.
“Kill a man,” said Ramos.
“Right,” said Aiden, matching the Curse Master’s simple tone. “So nothing else will break it?”
“No, you silly boy.”
Aiden fought the urge to make a face and clenched his jaw instead.
“Well actually,” said Ramos, mildly, “The Red General has inserted himself into the curse. He now forms a triad with the Jolt and Malhaven family. So logically, you could also kill him to break the curse.”
Aiden’s heart sank. “But…he’s mad powerful, right? All the Generals are supposedly unfightable.”
Ramos pushed out his bottom lip and tilted his head from one side to the other. “Not quite true. They exist in a hierarchy of Power for a reason.”
When Aiden gave him a frown, Ramos continued patiently. “They are impenetrable most of the time, yes, but all they have their weaknesses. I believe the current Headmaster of Chrysalis dispatched the Green General at the last battle of Chrysalis and the Bronze was…incapacitated. And now…” Ramos nodded to Henry, “We seem to have found the Red General’s weakness.”
“Impossible,” murmured Henry. “I can’t—I don’t even know—"
“Not impossible,” said Ramos. “It’s just…mostly impossible. He’s grown far too powerful with all that child force in him. Given your inexperience, your best bet is to poison a Jolt.” Ramos held up the navy vial. “Lucky for you, suicide means ‘self-murder.’”
Henry gaped but Aiden’s thoughts were racing in other directions. He stepped forward and reached out for the blue vial, but Ramos pulled it back. “I have not named my price.”
Aiden’s mouth twisted. They had no money. He told Ramos so. But the little man shook his head. “Be on your way then. Bad luck to you.”
Aiden scoffed, but Henry was clearly not in any mood to argue. Still white as chalk, Aiden watched the younger boy open the wooden door and head straight out. Aiden chanced a look at the Curse Master who was now seating himself back in his chair and taking back up his pen, not bothering to look up. Aiden clenched his fists and headed out after Henry. A life for a life. That was what the curse needed to break it. There was no way around it. One of the Jolts had to die. And it didn’t need to be Henry.
Aiden watched Henry’s hunched back, his green jacket moving with each stiff stride. And Aiden stopped mid-step. There was no other way. This was Henry’s one chance. Aiden swung back around and lurched for the Curse Master’s door. He pushed it open roughly. Ramos was in the same position at his desk, but this time he looked up with raised brows.
Aiden took a deep breath. “I’m going to start here in next year. Name your price for the potion. I don’t have whatever currency you use here, but I’m sure there’s something else I can do for you. As payment.”
Ramos’ eyebrows raised even further. “Be very careful what you offer in Morktalis,” he said, clasping his hands together and regarding Aiden. “But…I sense no Power in you.”
“I’m going to awaken my Power. I have a protocol—” Aiden waved his hand. “But that’s besides the point. The point is, I can pay you back after I start. If you give me that”—he nodded to the navy bottle still on the table—“like on laybuy, I’ll pay you back. I can’t hide from you if I’m studying here, so you know I’m good for it.”
Ramos went deathly still. “Except for the fact that you will not awaken your Power…on your own.”
Aiden shook his head. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to do the Bernstein-Woolf Protocol.”
Ramos narrowed his eyes. “You are aware that is a joke?”
Aiden felt the blood run from his face. “What?”
“It was a joke invented by some humoured Morktalis students. If you could read High Demonin, you might’ve realised that.”
Aiden’s heart shot into his mouth, and he swore at his own stupidity. So that was what the black symbols were. High Demonin. But that meant that Roland White had let him believe he could do a joke protocol. The headmaster hadn’t tried to correct him. Aiden simmered.
“But—” said Ramos, holding up a finger. Aiden stilled. Ramos leaned down to open a drawer. It rattled as he opened then shut it. He palmed a metallic test tube with a stopper. “If you take this, it’ll awaken your Power.”
Aiden’s heart did a flip in his chest. “Really?”
“How far are you willing to go?”
“I’ll do anything.”
Ramos leaned back in his chair. “Then it’ll either awaken your Power or make you go insane. Either way, I will come to you for payment of both.” He placed one hand on Henry’s navy vial and one hand on the silver test tube.
Aiden blew the air from his cheeks. “And I want assured admission into this school. What type of payment are we talking?”
“You will work for me.” Ramos said, shrugging. “I…will assign you tasks.”
Aiden watched Ramos Gulthair, and Ramos Gulthair watched Aiden. In his spirit, Aiden knew that the Curse Master did not, in any way, mean administration tasks. But Aiden thought of Henry. And he thought of his Power and coming to Morktalis. And he thought of his father and his mother and his brother. This was his one chance.
“Done.”
A slow smile spread across Ramos’ tattooed lips, and the Curse Master offered Aiden his hand.
* * *
Aiden met Henry out in the corridor, rubbing his index finger where Ramos Gulthair had just poked it with a white-hot needle.
“What were you doing?” asked Henry.
“Getting this,” said Aiden, bringing out the navy vial with skull stopper.
“Aiden—”
“Your grandad,” said Aiden with a definiteness that he felt muscle deep. “Your grandad’s gonna be the one to take this, Henry.”
40
Melanie
That night, in Melanie’s dream that was not a dream, she returned to the dank cavern for the third time. She found herself seated on the same long, narrow bench next to Angel and the other girls in their matching white dresses.
Sister Barron awaited them on the dais, but this time she was joined by a group of four other grey-robed women, all with the same shaved heads.
“Welcome to your first day in the school of the White Lady,” said Sister Barron, her eyes boring into them all, the tips of her fingers pressed together in front of her. “You will address me only as Sister Barron. Those of us who stand in these grey robes are your dedicated teachers, and you will address us with due respect. First, you will be divided into groups based upon your level of mastery over your Power.”
Melanie’s stomach did a little flip. She had no Power. What were they going to do about that? She was distracted by more movements from the dais. Their teachers had spaced themselves out around the cavern, two to a side. Sister Barron walked to a blue-skinned girl in a front row. She placed her hands to hover around the girl’s temples and closed her eyes. After a minute, she directed the girl to one of the teachers. One by one, Sister Barron assessed each girl the same way, and then each girl joined a group as directed. The girls who had taken their oaths first, the ones who didn’t look human, were all placed into one of two groups by the door. These girls stood in their groups with steely, proud expressions. Melanie eyed their confident gazes and knew they would have the highest level of skill over not only their Power but their physical selves, too. The human girls were spread out between the other two groups. Finally, sister Barron assessed the fierce girl Angel, standing next to Melanie.
