by Sever Bronny
“Anyway, looks like the traitorous fools don’t even have the power to fine us yet,” Leera said, ripping off a leaf of lettuce. “Oh and Katrina doesn’t know we got the money.” But there was no joy in her voice, only anxiety. The same anxiety fluttered around in Augum’s stomach. Katrina was dangerous. Carp was dangerous. Darby was dangerous. The Von Edgeworths were dangerous. All of this was dangerous. And that reminded him of how much danger Leera was in.
His thoughts must have shown on his face because she perked up. “What is it?”
Bridget was looking at her in the same manner.
“What is it?” Leera repeated, this time at her.
“You shouldn’t have said that to her,” Bridget said.
“Spare me, I’m not afraid of her.”
“Maybe you should be.”
“Are you serious? Come on, what’s with you two?”
Augum wanted to reply but was afraid for her and didn’t know how to explain it without her saying she could damn well take care of herself.
Another nagging thought ate away at Augum’s soul. After beating death one gained an appreciation for life, for it then became a life worth living. There was as much value in the small as in the large. Friendship and love became that much more fleeting, that much more precious.
He shook his head at his own contradictions, for he searched out death in the form of the assassins. And what the hell had he been thinking acting so recklessly anyway?
Leera stabbed a piece of asparagus as she chewed on a piece of pork. With a full mouth, she pointed her forked asparagus first at Bridget and then at Augum. “You know what?” She chewed while the asparagus wiggled. “You two worry too much. Have some faith in us, will you?”
They finished their meal in silence.
Into the Mysterious
As planned, the girls left first, one at a time, pretending to go to the bathing room. Augum cleared their dishes, aware that everyone in the hall watched him. He could feel them looking upon him as the changer of destinies. It was an odd thing, reminding him of when he and the girls had first entered the academy and everyone wanted to get a glimpse of them and talk to them and ask them questions about how they had vanquished the Lord of the Legion. These days he felt more at ease with their attention. Perhaps it was part of becoming a man. Or perhaps it was because his ambition to become a full-fledged Arcaner meant accepting that his purpose was to protect others, and that meant putting aside certain vanities. When he was younger, having everyone’s eyes on him was a mortifying—and often, painful—experience. He would have rather gone unnoticed. Now he was learning how to use that attention like a sword.
Despite his growing confidence in himself and in the Arcaner path, melancholy plagued him. It was like a swamp, its fetor permeating his thoughts. His decisions had not always been sound, making him question himself. Part of him wished things would return to normal, that the Canterrans would simply vanish. He wished he had taken more time and care in searching for a wise king to support. He wished Cobb was still alive and he still had his castle. And he wished he could attend Arcane Element of Lightning class instead of skipping it. But they had to act fast and carefully, for who knew what would happen next. And wishful thinking was nothing more than a waste of time and energy anyway. What was done was done—there was no changing any of it.
Augum returned the trio’s dishes to the counter, avoiding eye contact with everyone lest it invite conversation. The overseers trailed him like his own personal guard. As he strolled to the exit, to keep his arcanery limber and strong, he mentally ran through the long list of spells he knew, including off-the-book spells and the Shield rune. He adjusted the satchel on his shoulder, then levitated it slightly, maintaining the practice he was so committed to. He exited the Supper Hall and strode down the dimly lit castle-like halls of the Student Wing.
“Lord Stone.”
Augum turned and saw Iguyin standing in a door alcove. The boy ceremonially lowered his head and placed a hand over his heart—the old way of showing gratitude. The gesture could also be interpreted as asking for forgiveness. In this case, the meaning was clear.
Augum smiled, glad for the boy. “Take good care, Iguyin,” and he continued on, knowing nothing more need be said. The boy maintained his posture even as Augum disappeared around a corner.
The overseers stayed about twenty feet behind. Augum increased his pace each time he turned a corner, until they were around forty feet behind and struggling to catch up. Timing it right, he entered a pinwheel corridor and hid inside the same janitorial closet the trio had when Katrina had followed them. Then he paused and listened.
“Where did he go?” asked a boyish voice with a thick Canterran accent, almost a country drawl.
“Don’t know,” said a deeper male voice. “Told you we should have tracked ’im somehow. Fates have mercy, His Highness will lop our heads off if we don’t find ’im.”
“Let’s go this way. Hurry, who knows what he be up to. What if he be after the dig?”
When the sound of their feet died, Augum breathed a sigh of relief.
“Did you hear that?” Leera asked from the darkness of the closet. “There’s some sort of ‘dig’ happening right here at the academy.”
“Shyneo.” Augum’s hand burst with bright lightning, revealing the cramped quarters of the closet and the tense faces of Bridget and Leera. “This morning we saw two people being taken inside. And then in my Theory of Elemental Spellcraft class I noticed that two of the overseers with Darby had muddy boots and dusty robes. They must be searching for something under the academy.”
A single arcane bell gonged in the halls.
“First afternoon bell,” Leera said. “Gives us two hours of quality class-skipping time. Hopefully we’ll find Archives and what this dig business is all about.”
“Not much time,” Bridget said. “Let’s go.” She glanced out of the closet and, finding the coast clear, scooted out, followed by Leera and Augum, who extinguished his palm light.
The trio hurried down the halls. But just as they turned a corner, Bridget veered and shoved the two of them back.
“Shoot, did they see me?” she whispered, cringing as she peeked around the corner. “Nope, they’re practically asleep.”
“Who?” Leera asked. “Who’s over there?”
“Overseers. Two of them. They’re guarding the doors to the secondary entrance.”
“Must have started guarding them yesterday after Katrina chased us down there.”
Bridget peeked around the corner again. “Question is, how do we get by them?”
“Wait, you said they are half asleep?” Augum asked.
“Yeah, they’re just sitting there, backs to the wall, bored out of their minds.”
“Then let’s help them along by actually putting them to sleep.”
“I don’t know, that has risks.”
“Hear me out. The Sleep spell works best on people who are already drowsy, and because they’re lowly guards, I guarantee they’re low degree too.”
Leera pointed at Augum. “Not to mention they won’t even notice if we do it carefully. Perfect.”
She and Augum looked imploringly at Bridget.
Bridget inhaled and slowly exhaled. “All right, but I’ll do the first casting.”
“Definitely,” Leera agreed.
“You’re more adept with the spell than both of us,” Augum added, nodding.
Bridget glanced out again. “Follow me. I think we can sneak up on them using that hallway there. And don’t look in their direction.” She casually walked off, Augum and Leera following. She led them across the hall and into another corridor. Then she took a right turn and then another right turn, so that they were in a hall perpendicular to the one where the two guards sat. She placed a finger to her lips, tiptoed to the corner and, after a moment’s hesitation, whispered something into her left sleeve while soothingly gliding her right hand across her chest. Sleep was an 8th degree spell, and as a stealth attack,
difficult to perform because it required overpowering the subconscious of the subject without alerting them. It was possible, but mighty difficult.
Augum took her place when she withdrew, for it was best to have a new caster rather than having her cast twice. He peeked around the corner in time to see one young overseer’s head slump, then focused his mind and energies on casting the spell and carefully extended his palm—just as the first overseer snored, startling the second. “Senna dormo coma torpos,” Augum whispered into his left sleeve while gently sliding his right palm across the air, as if petting a cat. It worked. The other overseer slumped where he sat, and soon both were rhythmically snoring.
Augum waved the girls over and the three of them snuck up to the door, carefully opened it, and darted through.
“They’ll think they simply fell asleep at their post,” Leera said a ways down the tunnel.
“Now the trick will be getting back out,” Augum replied.
“We’ll worry about that later. Besides, we can always put them back to sleep. I’d guess they’re only 2nd or 3rd degree.”
They relit their palms and hurried into the dark depths, finding themselves at the same crossroad as before, with the long row of twenty-foot statues going left. They went straight this time, leaving the corridor on the right unexplored.
The trio spoke little. Bridget was preoccupied with her thoughts while Leera squinted at everything that caught her eye.
They soon reached two giant portcullis gates on opposite sides of the corridor.
“Spooky,” Leera whispered, shining her palm through the iron bars. “Tombs. Countless numbers of them.”
They stretched on into the darkness. The shadows of tall pillars and stone sarcophagi moved with the light of their palms. It reminded Augum of the crypt in Castle Arinthian and had the same ancient musty whiff of decay.
“Locked as well,” Augum noted. “What kinds of people do you think are buried in there?”
“Students,” Bridget whispered. She was standing before a plaque. She pointed to the other gate. “And unidentified bodies and invaders from armies.”
After a respectful silence, they moved on, taking with them the solemn historical air of the ancient crypts.
“You know, I probably should have had the foresight to ask The Grizzly where Archives is located,” Augum said.
“And I should have had the foresight to scrounge around for a map,” Bridget added.
“Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve,” Leera said. “No sense worrying about it now.”
They soon came upon an intersection, choosing to go straight again and down a long series of shallow steps, at the bottom of which they found a vast, high-ceilinged room filled with the ruins of an ancient castle. Frayed rope surrounded the entire area, beyond which was a dry moat and the ruins of a curtain wall. An arched stone bridge crossed the moat, connecting to the rusted portcullis gate of a primitive keep.
Augum wiped the dust off a plaque and read the inscription aloud. “ ‘This small castle, known as Oakenfield Keep, is thought to have been built around eight hundred years prior to The Founding and likely belonged to a reputable Arcaner. Note the dragon motif on the shield above the entranceway. Please keep off grounds.’ ”
“That’s four thousand years ago,” Augum whispered in awe. “Back when arcanery was still wild.”
“That’s Rivican old,” Bridget said.
He raised his palm, brightening it. Sure enough, there was an ancient shield carved into the stone above the portcullis. It was so worn that he could barely make out the dragon insignia.
“Oakenfield Keep,” he whispered, wondering if one of the Arcaner legends once dwelt within these walls.
Leera bit her lip and flashed a mischievous look. “Want to explore the ruins? We could climb that wall like kids.”
“There’s no point,” Bridget replied. “Generations of students and arcaneologists have already combed over the place. Besides, it’s out of bounds.”
“Well, you’re just a ball of fun,” Leera muttered.
They walked around the roped-off moat and saw the dim outline of other ruins through gaping holes in the curtain wall. Plaques placed along the rope described a stable, a granary, ovens, a well, an armory, barracks, housing, and a slew of other buildings.
“It’s an ancient village,” Leera said. She nodded at huge gouge marks. “Took a beating from something, didn’t it?” She elbowed Augum. “Bet you think that’s the mark of a dragon claw, eh?”
“Actually I do.” And he found other evidence the more he searched. He pointed at black splotches on the wall. “Those are heavy char marks. Could be dragon breath.”
Leera had a hard time keeping a straight face. “That happens when something gets burned.”
He playfully narrowed his eyes at her. She retaliated with a quirky head bob, one sharp brow arched in a How do you like that? manner.
“Dragon breath is just more fiction,” Bridget said. “Even if dragons had existed, how could they breathe fire? It’s ridiculous. The history books say they were likely giant lizards brought from distant lands and trained to be monsters, like the banyan beast, and so on.” She noticed Augum’s disheartened look and added, “Look, it’s better to be practical about these things. Dragons are woven into Solian lore in the same vein as other myths. There’s really no evidence they existed. It’s all circumstantial.”
Leera flipped her palm at her. “Do you ever leave class behind?”
Bridget flashed her an annoyed look. “I’m trying to keep my mind off things. Is that all right with you?”
“Sorry. Of course it is. I’m such a jerk sometimes.”
“Yes, you really are.”
Leera sighed and stared at the ruins. After a while, she glanced over her shoulder at Bridget, who was preoccupied with another plaque.
Bridget looked up. “Don’t even think about it—hey, what are you doing? Get back here!” But Leera had ducked under the rope and was skipping merrily across the moat basin.
Augum shrugged. “You only live once,” and ran after her. He stopped halfway across and turned back to Bridget. “You coming?”
Bridget glanced around at the deep darkness and swallowed. “Suppose I have to follow lest you two fall down a well … or start making out in some ruin,” and she ducked under the rope and daintily made her way down the moat’s steep embankment.
Augum waited for her and took up the rear. They climbed over a destroyed portion of the curtain wall and stepped onto hard-packed dirt, then hurried to catch up with Leera, who was examining everything with her lit palm.
“This is so cool,” she said, circling a dreary-looking tower with barred windows. “It’s a prison tower!” She found the beat-up oaken door and pushed. “Shut tight. Hold on.” She extinguished her hand.
“We’re not going into that creepy thing,” Bridget said firmly.
Leera ignored her and opened her palm before the door. “Un vun asperio aurum enchantus,” she said, and immediately yelped. “Whoa, there’s a neat ancient Seal enchantment on it that’s long sunk to permanence. We’d have a better chance of walking through a stone wall than getting inside.” She glanced up. “Guess we could always climb it.” She shoved Bridget playfully. “Hey, remember when we had to climb the outside of Evergray Tower and how deathly afraid of heights you used to be?”
“Can we please just move on?” Bridget said, glancing around nervously. “We don’t want to get caught here.”
“Look at that,” Augum said, shining his electrified palm toward a collapsed structure. Something about it drew him over.
“Careful, that looks dangerous,” Bridget called from behind.
The structure was large and rested at the back of the bailey and near the ruined curtain wall. It looked like it had collapsed in the last few decades as opposed to millennia ago. There remained the dried detritus of countless flowers—roses, by the look of them.
Augum gaped at the huge blocks that had smashed through the floor, causi
ng a rectangular cavity, as if a large tomb had collapsed in on itself.
“What is it?” Leera asked as the girls walked over.
“Something big happened here,” Augum whispered. “Something important.”
The trio stared at the rubble pit before exchanging the same awed look.
“Do you think—?
“No, it couldn’t be. Here?”
“Here.”
“There’s a plaque—” Augum ran through a hole in the curtain wall and over the moat, until he stood before the plaque. His voice was solemn as he read the inscription.
“ ‘On the twenty-second day of the fourth month in the year 3324, inside this structure, believed to be a large underground storage cellar, was the location where Headmistress Anna Atticus Stone faced Narsus the Necromancer, vanquishing him and freeing Solia from the grip of a tyrant and ending the Narsinian War. Mysteriously, her remains were never found.’ ”
The girls joined him by the plaque.
Bridget brushed the engraving with her fingertips. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her.”
“Same.”
“Same …”
“I wonder what she would have done about the Canterrans,” Augum said.
Leera snorted. “Grab them by the scruff and unceremoniously kick them out is what she would have done, kind of like Brandon—” But she didn’t utter what she had been thinking after seeing Bridget’s face flush. “It would have been epic.”
Bridget said nothing. For a time the trio allowed the history to permeate their thoughts. Augum’s melancholy grew heavier, like a gray cloud filled with rain. He missed Mrs. Stone’s wisdom and the way she took charge, always doing the right thing. He missed her lessons and her eternal belief in him and the girls and in their friendship. Above all, he missed spending quiet time with her before a fire, reading or studying. Like so many times before, he wondered if she was all right, if she was meditating in Ley, young again, or if she had moved on to greater and more important things as a Leyan.
