Caelum knew his face was turning red. He knew his breath was hitching. He swallowed down the scream that wanted to leave his lips, choking on it. He knew his eyes were too wet. Heknew if he made a sound, this would go much, much worse very quickly.
“Answer the question,” his father commanded.
“Y-yes.” Caelum forced out the word. “I’m sure.”
“Interesting.”
His father slapped the gold Anubis head at the end of his cane lightly on a gloved hand.
“Do you know why I find that interesting, Caelum?”
Caelum didn’t move.
He knew better than to answer.
“Hmm. Well.” His father took a step back, as if to survey the entirety of his son. His voice now sounded bored, indifferent. “If you don’t know why I find that interesting, then I really think you should come with me to the gardens. There’s something I would like to show you. I believe it will be instructive.”
Caelum blinked, confused.
He fought to keep it off his face.
At least one of his fingers was definitely not working right. A sharp piece of it stuck out, the angle wrong, and it hurt so badly he didn’t want to look at it, or touch it. He gripped his wrist tightly in his other hand. He tried to ignore the wet feeling running down his forearm.
“Outside,” his father said, his voice harder. “Now, you ungrateful suckling. And don’t snivel. Or I’ll break more than a few digits.”
Caelum turned his head to find his father standing by the glass doors.
He trotted faster, moving silently, still clutching his wrist in his good fingers, wincing and hissing softly as his steps jostled his hurt hand.
He followed his father all the way out to the small lawn where his mother had a wrought iron table and chairs positioned under a striped awning, then out further, past the roses andsnapdragons, then out further still to the greenhouse filled with orchids. His father twisted him to the left, instead of out to the meadow. He led Caelum past the clearing with the precisely-lined labyrinth made of black and white crystals, interspersed with amethyst and emerald.
Caelum had been fascinated by the labyrinth for as long as he could remember. It looked like magic, felt like magic, but Caelum didn’t understand how it worked. His father made him walk it sometimes, over and over, training him to keep his mind blank. He explained it as a method of improving Caelum’s concentration, which would help him with the seeing arts, and, more importantly, with his ability to control his magic.
Caelum had no idea if it worked.
Today, his father didn’t stop him at the labyrinth.
He kept walking.
He took Caelum to the very center of the gardens, where a tall fountain stood, made of white marble and surrounded by a thin bed of lavender. A flock of dragons took up the stone centerpiece, their wings spread, half of them spouting flames. The statue and fountain had been charmed so that the wings and the mouths appeared to burst out with green flames at night, lighting the centerpiece and illuminating the clearing between the high hedgerows.
Even now, in late afternoon, Caelum could see shimmers of red and orange in the leathery stone wings and between their gaping maws. Their sharp teeth glowed bright even under the sunlight. But he could only look up at the fountain, confused.
His father never took him out here.
This was where he brought guests.
Adults.
His father tapped the bottom of his cane sharply against the stone.
“Other side, Caelum. Pay attention.”
Caelum obeyed. He walked around the fountain to join his father behind another dense hedge in another clearing just behind the central one.
He walked around the tall hedgerow––
He came to a dead stop. He smelled it, before all else.
