Chapter 10- I Meet the World's Worst Dad

I awoke on a hard stone floor. I slowly sat up, my shoulders and back aching. Looking around, I saw that I was in a small cell. Three of the walls were made of crude red and purple stone I had never seen before, and the other wall was made of thick iron bars. I walked up to the bars, and then a thought slipped into my mind. Where was my wand? I checked my robes, but my wand, spell deck, backpack, and spell book were all missing. Whoever had imprisoned me had to have my things. Panic bubbled within me.

I scanned the hallway in front of my cell for guards, putting a hand on one of the bars. Frost began to spread up the bar, and I got an idea. I froze the bar solid, stepped back, and kicked it with the sole of my shoe. The bar shattered, spraying pieces of cold iron everywhere. A small shard nicked my cheek, but I just wiped the blood off with my sleeve and ignored it. I had more pressing matters to attend to.

I stormed down the hallway, frost following me in my footsteps. Icy tendrils crept up the walls, leaving a frosty trail in my path. I just kept walking through the halls, up the stairs, and around corners, not seeming to get anywhere. I never changed my pace, and my calm demeanor shocked me. I was as cool as ice.

Finally, I came to a stop in a large round room. The air simmered, leaving me out of breath. "Welcome." A cold voice echoed through the room. It was dark, and I couldn't find the source of the voice.

"Who are you?" I shouted, as bravely as I could manage. "Show yourself!"

"What?" The voice said, in mock surprise. A tall man with long black hair and dark piercing eyes stepped forward. "You don't recognize your own father?" he sneered.

I stared at the man for a moment, frozen in time. This man, who claimed to be my father. This man, who didn't even know me. This man, that looked nothing like me. He had to be lying. I knew he was. I had blond hair, his was black. I had blue eyes, his were dark. I was short, he was tall. I was Ice, and he most certainly wasn't. And I was good. And he was bad.

I shook my head at his little joke. "Tell me the truth." I demanded.

He threw his head back and laughed at me. "Oh, silly child, I have. I am Malistaire," he glared at me, "And I am your father." He examined me for a minute, as if I were on display. "What school are you anyways?" he droned, his eyes lingering on my blue robes. "Death?" he asked, "Or Life, like your mother?"

I certainly did not intend to answer him, Malistaire, the master of lies. I still didn't believe him. I wasn't sure what game he was playing, but I knew he was playing it. The air around me grew cold.

"Ice, then." He chuckled. "I have to say, I am a tad disappointed. I had hoped that you would be Life…" Malistaire gave me a sad look, and started pacing around the room. "You see, my wife, your mother, Sylvia… She passed away of a terrible illness not long ago." He sighed and stopped to look at me. "I'm trying to bring her back. And I need your help."

This was the man who had let loose evil creatures in Wizard City. This was the man who was tormenting the Spiral. And this man just wanted to bring his wife back? "How…" I gasped, astonished, "Well how do you expect to bring her back. She's… She's dead…"

He grimaced. "If I raise the dragon titan under my power, I am confident that he can bring my Sylvia back." Raise the dragon titan… This guy was a loon. He was absolutely bonkers, and I certainly wasn't going to help him. I shook my head and started backing away towards the way I had come. "Wait!" He shouted. "Sixteen years ago, upon this very day, my Sylvia gave birth to a beautiful baby girl in Wizard City. Our child looked just like my Sylvia, just like you. Mere minutes afterwards, our baby vanished. That baby was you, Grace."

His voice echoed in my head, and I felt like clasping my hands over my ears to get rid of the ringing. That was impossible. Today wasn't even my birthday, when I had gone through the Spiral door it had been mid-November, it couldn't possibly be the thirteenth of December already. How long had I been asleep in that cell? "That's impossible…" I shuddered, with less confidence than I would have liked. If it was in fact the thirteenth of December, then it would all add up. But that's impossible, I reassured myself.

"My, dear," Malistaire said with a sly grin on his face. "It's December thirteenth…" It was as if he had read my mind, as if he was a step ahead of me, and he knew all of my secrets. But… He couldn't possibly be my father… Malistaire took a few steps closer to me. "My child- "

"NO!" I screamed, shutting my eyes. He was not my father. A father is someone who raises his child, someone who's always there. He hadn't done that. He had no right to call himself my father. And I most certainly was not going to refer to myself as… Malistaire's daughter… I shuddered at the thought.

"Grace?" a soft voice said, full of concern. I opened my eyes, the snowy Commons swirling in my vision. My head throbbed, and I felt the world tilt. The last thing I remembered was Digby's eyes, staring down at me.