Honor's Price

by Sever Bronny

  Pouch Eyes retreated. “Unnameables help us, she’s a true witch. These two have been doing unholy work. Seize them. Seize them both! We must purify them in the flames!”

  Augum’s blood flash-boiled at those words. But he was acutely conscious of how little arcane stamina he had left. He had to be smart, or all would be lost.

  The overseers flared their arm rings—the blotchy old man had five and the big-eared younger man four. Both were of the fire element. Augum had lucked out. Had one of them had ten or more, he would have been in serious trouble in his low-stamina state.

  Seven lightning rings leapt to life around Augum’s arm. His battle instincts kicked in and he chose a reactive approach, waiting to see what his adversaries would do.

  Blotchy shoved at the air before him, roaring, “Baka!” while Big Ears slammed his wrists together, shouting, “Annihilo!”

  Augum was more than ready. He summoned his black lightning shield on his left forearm and leaned into both strikes. There was a double thump as a rather weak Push spell and a First Offensive spell smacked into his shield. Flame licked the edges of the crusted lightning. It was the wrong move. They should have attacked with mind spells.

  Augum disappeared the shield before he shot his hand out and made as if to grip Blotchy’s head, twisting his wrist and hissing, “Dreadus terrablus.” His battle-honed Fear spell blew through the 5th degree’s Mind Armor like a battering ram through glass. The man’s eyes widened as he began frantically patting himself down. “Gods help me, they’re eating me alive!”

  Augum pivoted to Big Ears, who was in the midst of casting his own Fear spell. Augum was quicker, however, shoving the air before him. “Baka!” The young man was sent flying. He crashed into the wall, breaking tiles, and fell to the ground in a heap, unconscious.

  Pouch Eyes yelped like a scolded pup, turned on his heel and bolted for the portal.

  Augum reached out. “No,” and grabbed the man’s neck with an iron telekinetic grip, stopping him in place, the momentum making his arms flail forward.

  “You’ll both burn for this—” was all the disciple could wheeze before Augum yanked so violently the man slithered and tumbled along the floor as if hit by a rampaging ox, coming to a stop at Augum’s feet. But Augum wasn’t done. He drew the outline of the man’s body. “Paralizo carcusa cemente,” paralyzing him in place.

  Kiwi ran to his side, ashen. “They will hang us all for this,” she squeaked.

  Augum, blood streaming from his nose and dripping off his chin, only glanced at her. “I had no cho—”

  But Blotchy abruptly stopped screaming and snapped, “Flustrato!”

  A wave of nauseous confusion swept over Augum like a tidal wave. He had enough sense to realize Blotchy had fought off his Fear spell, which must not have been as strong as he had thought, perhaps due to his stamina exhaustion. And it was that profound arcane exhaustion that had allowed the 5th degree to penetrate Augum’s Mind Armor.

  Augum stumbled, dazed. Was he in the castle? Who was this man tracing his outline? What was he saying?

  The blotchy-skinned man stopped speaking and Augum’s body froze. Just then a bronze-skinned girl flew by, and a raven-haired girl appeared from the portal. Both lunged at the blotchy-skinned man.

  But the chaotic scene that followed was far too confusing for Augum’s enfeebled mind to comprehend. Instead, his thoughts wandered like a child lost in a forest of confusion.

  * * *

  Augum soon came around from the Confusion spell. By then, everything had settled down. Leera and Kiwi loomed over two unconscious overseers, while Pouch Eyes The Path Disciple squirmed on the ground, hands and feet tied with linen bandages.

  Augum hauled himself up as he rubbed the side of his head.

  “Good, you’re clear in thinking again,” Leera said, breathing rapidly from the fight. “All right?”

  “Angry with myself for succumbing to his spell. Should have conserved my stamina better.” That’s all it took in combat to lose. One lapse in judgment, one mistimed spell, one moment of weakness. But he was happy to see she had caught up with them, and just in time too.

  “Well, you did carry Bridget all that way.”

  He glanced over to see Bridget being attended to by the senior healer, Arcanist Sam Ordrid, who had one hand on Bridget’s forehead and the other on her stomach and was murmuring the tail end of an incantation. When he finished, a glow traveled from Bridget’s head to her feet.

  “I’ve put her in a deep healing slumber,” Arcanist Ordrid said. “You brought Lady Burns before the worst of the fever could take hold. Had you hesitated even a few heartbeats more, she would have slipped into a coma and been in for the fight of her life for the next tenday. As it is, she might recover by tomorrow.”

  “Thank the Fates,” Leera said, clutching her chest. “See, Aug, had you dawdled or taken it easy, our Bridget would have been in serious trouble.”

  “Fair point.” Augum beat back the self-recrimination with a stick. She was right. Some sacrifices were more than worth it.

  Ordrid strode past the bed to stand beside Augum. He had a bent back and sun-ripened wrinkles. Tufts of silver hair sprouted from a wispy scalp. He nodded at the captives while withdrawing a cloth from his robe pocket. “We must securely hide them.” He handed the cloth to Augum and double-tapped his own nose.

  Augum numbly took the cloth and cleaned the blood from his nose and chin. He didn’t know what to say. His mind raced with the implications. Two overseers and a Path Disciple taken captive. And how many students had seen him running through the halls with Bridget? He recalled seeing at least five, but there could have been more. If even one of them told …

  Ordrid looked upon Augum with pride. “I will never forget how you saved my life in the war, Lord Stone.”

  Augum wouldn’t either. A tribe of Henawa had wanted to burn him alive for his service to the Legion. But like so many others, the man had been forced into service, blaming himself for being too cowardly to rebel. Augum had intervened to save the man’s life. After the war, the man joined the ranks of academy teachers as high-degree healers were in short supply.

  “I told you then I would be proud to take up your banner should the occasion warrant it,” Ordrid went on. “Let me help. It is the least I can do.”

  “Arcanist Ordrid, we will gladly take any assistance you offer as we are in a desperate situation.”

  Ordrid turned to Kiwi. “We’ll put them into one of the old mania rooms.”

  “Yes, Arcanist Ordrid,” Kiwi replied.

  “You will all burn in the fires of purity!” Pouch Eyes wheezed.

  Ordrid lifted an arm to cast an incapacitating spell.

  “Wait—” Augum said.

  “We must act quickly, Lord Stone. Before others inquire as to their whereabouts.”

  “I know, sir, this’ll only take a moment.” Augum crouched before The Path Disciple. “What are they digging up down there?”

  “I don’t know nothing about it, boy.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “And you’re a fool. They only tell us what we need to know.”

  “The rules are meant to be broken, aren’t they? The Path is an elaborate plan to enslave people, isn’t it?”

  “How dare you blaspheme in such a manner! You will burn in the fires of purification—”

  “Your fellow Canterrans are using you,” Leera interrupted. “Using you and your cult to blind Solian citizens. The question is, are you involved or a hapless sheep?”

  Pouch Eyes was shouting himself hoarse, eyes popping out of his head. “What are you talking about, you vile witch! I’ll have your guts sizzling in the fires for your blasph—”

  Ordrid crushed a hand into a fist and spat, “Voidus lingua,” silencing the man.

  “He really has no idea,” Augum said as the man’s neck veins bulged from his silent shouting. “I don’t think any of The Path Disciples do. I think the Canterrans selected them because they’re true believers, ot
herwise we’d be able to get the truth out of them.”

  “And that’s why the overseers have been commanded to stay silent,” Leera added. “That’s why there’s a woman among them too, possibly more. They don’t care about Path rules at all because those rules are nothing more than a cover. Wow, this is heavy stuff.”

  Augum turned to Arcanist Ordrid. “Sir, The Grizzly mentioned something about locking the academy down. Is that actually possible?”

  “Only by the headmaster or, in case of emergency, collectively by the Academy High Committee.”

  “Who’s on that committee?”

  “Arcanist Gonzalez, Arcanist Brewerson, Arcanist Flagon, Arcanist Jaheem, Arcanist Pedworth, Arcanist Rowan and myself. Should even one be missing during the closing ritual, it will not work. And if an arcanist passes away, their replacement needs to be sworn in first in a time-consuming arcane ceremony before a closing ritual can be completed.”

  “I understand, sir. Do the Canterrans know the academy can be locked down?”

  “That is likely why they have taken Headmaster Byron’s family hostage. But they will not do anything as long as they do not suspect a reprisal.”

  Augum and Leera exchanged an ominous look. So it indeed was as they had suspected. Byron was compromised.

  “Tell him about Dreadnought suits?” Leera mouthed.

  Augum subtly shook his head. The fewer people who knew of the plan to capture the Dreadnought suits the better. Ordrid was already helping them enough, and should the overseers capture him and put him to the question …

  Leera gave a slight nod and turned to Ordrid. “What’s a mania room, sir?”

  “A secure room intended for crazed warlocks who have succumbed to dangerous spells.” Ordrid looked to Kiwi. “Now come, Pupil Kaisan, we have much work to do. Lord Stone and Lady Jones—I could use your help as well.”

  “Yes, Arcanist Ordrid,” the three of them chorused.

  Ordrid was efficient. He got them to help hide the captives in the farthest, most isolated mania room deep in the bowels of the healing ward, which was much larger than it appeared—a sprawling complex of dimly-lit white marble rooms and hallways.

  “Now you two better go and attend the worship ceremony,” Ordrid told Augum and Leera when they had returned to Bridget’s bedside. “You can safely leave those men to me. Kiwi will help as she is serving as one of my assistants and thus has an exemption from attending.”

  “Thank you, Arcanist Ordrid,” Augum said.

  Ordrid looked to Bridget, who peacefully slept, face slowly regaining its color. “As for Lady Burns, we’ll say she succumbed to exhaustion due to arcane stress and lack of nutrition. I’ll keep her overnight. And to be sure of her safety, I and my loyal attendants will watch over her. Does she have enough gold to pay for tomorrow morning’s quota?”

  “She does in her satchel,” Leera said. “But we’ll pay for her if she doesn’t make it in time.”

  “And do you two have enough?”

  “We do.”

  “Good, because I’m rapidly running out of funds. I’ve been handing out crowns left and right to all my students.”

  “We’re trying to secure funding from rich nobles, sir,” Augum said. “I only hope there are some left who have not taken too much offense to our pursuing the Arcaner path.”

  “Most rich people are not corrupt, Augum.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Besides, I am not entirely sure money will get us out of this.”

  “What if they come for Bridget?” Leera asked.

  Ordrid dabbed at his sweaty brow with a linen cloth. “Leave that to me.”

  The bell gonged three times throughout the academy. To Augum, it was an ominous sound, like impending doom.

  “You better hurry. And good luck.”

  “You too, Arcanist Ordrid.” Augum nodded at Kiwi. “Kiwi,” and he and Leera hurried out of there.

  The Scroll

  “Where the hell have you two been?” Haylee whispered as they lined up outside the theater. “I overheard a student say that she saw you running with an unconscious Bridget in your arms.”

  “We’ll explain inside,” Augum whispered back. He noted that the same stout Path Disciple with the unkempt beard was there again, the one he called Gray Beard. The man’s face was drawn and creased with annoyance, perhaps because his partner hadn’t shown up for duty. He was checking students off a list and asking them to flare their stripes, and because he was doing it alone, he was running behind schedule. A line of students waited to get in, with the women keeping their eyes low. Other students were still rushing to return from the city, huffing as they skidded to a stop at the back of the line. Augum wondered how they had fared in raising funds. He dreaded raising money tomorrow. But at this rate, he wondered if he’d even see tomorrow. He was sure the other overseers would seize him and Leera at any moment.

  Augum’s turn soon came up. Gray Beard ran a hand over his shaved pate before rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Name?”

  “Augum Stone.”

  The man looked up from his sheet.

  “And I’d like to report that my friend Bridget Burns took ill, sir. She’s in the healing ward in a healing slumber.”

  The man motioned at one of five nearby overseers. “This one here is telling me that one of the three is sick in the healing ward. Look into it, will you? Confirm she isn’t faking it.”

  “As you wish, Path Disciple Watson,” the overseer said, though Augum thought he heard a mocking twist to the name. Could it be that The Path Disciples thought themselves in charge but the overseers resented it? It wouldn’t surprise him.

  Gray Beard placed cold eyes on Augum. “Flare them.”

  Augum flashed seven lightning rings. He wanted to ask what the point was, but decided better of it.

  Gray Beard put a tick next to Augum’s name. “Next.”

  After Haylee and Leera were processed, Augum spotted The Grizzly sitting alone. He poked Leera. “Hey, pass me that key.”

  Leera glanced over his shoulder and dug through her satchel. Then she surreptitiously handed it over.

  “I’ll join you in a moment,” he said, and went to sit beside The Grizzly while Leera went to find their friends.

  “Stone,” the man said without glancing over.

  “Sir. Just wanted to return this to you.” He covertly placed the key onto The Grizzly’s lap.

  The man put the key away. “Did you find what you needed to find, Stone?” he asked dully.

  “I think so, sir, thank you.”

  “And do you think you can revive the course?”

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “I hope you don’t get everyone killed.”

  Augum’s innards thrummed from the blow. The Grizzly’s faith in him was precariously low. It hurt his feelings to hear the man he so respected talk this way.

  “I’ve always loved this kingdom, Stone. Almost everything about it. And this academy. Its history. The sacrifices. You can almost hear the echo of pupils from ages past, pupils oblivious to a brutal future. It’s a shame, really.”

  Augum recalled the distant cry of floating pines. “Sir?”

  “A real shame.”

  “Please don’t give up hope, sir. We can take them.”

  “Go on and join your friends, Stone.”

  “Sir, we’ll need to lock down the academy when—”

  “I’m not interested in a bloodbath, Stone. Go to your friends.”

  “Sir, The Path is a fraud. It’s all so the Canterrans can snag more workers to dig—”

  The Grizzly turned his head, coal eyes flat. “I said, go.”

  Augum gaped, but the man did not yield. There was such a dearth of hope in his eyes that Augum suspected the man would yell at him if he informed him about the plan to snatch the Dreadnought suits of armor.

  “Yes, sir.” Augum got up, feeling like he should say something more, something optimistic. But the words did not come. Instead, he turned his back on the sullen m
an and looked around for his friends, finding them sitting in a small cluster spanning two rows in a dark part of the theater. He walked over and took a seat between Leera and Haylee just as Leera finished telling their friends what they had gone through and overheard.

  “… a total sham. They’re making up rigid rules knowing how easily those rules can be broken, all so they can snatch the rule breakers to use as slaves.”

  The others mumbled their disbelief while shaking their heads.

  “I don’t understand,” Caireen whispered. She sat behind them but had her arms folded on Leera’s backrest, chin on top. “Why don’t they just snatch us right now?”

  “They think we’d rise up,” Augum replied. “They’re actually surprised we haven’t thus far. Called us sheep.”

  Caireen slumped back in her seat. “Well, that’s depressing.”

  “At least we know where everyone’s being put to work,” Haylee muttered. “Yeah, they’re strewn about the kingdom, but it’s a start.” Then she frowned. “Except it’s only a matter of time until the Canterrans find out some of their own are missing.”

  They sat brooding for a bit.

  “How about you all, what’d you come up with?” Leera whispered as they waited for the ceremony to start. It was running behind because of the lineup at the entrance.

  Jengo, who sat beside Isaac and Caireen in the row behind, leaned forward. “Cai and I registered with the constabulary, which was a ball of fun. Who would have thought there were so many Solians around with enough spare time to heckle us while we waited in line? They took to The Path as if they’d been waiting all their lives for it.”

  “I was in line with them,” Isaac threw in. “And let me tell you, there are some vile people in this kingdom. Really opened up my eyes. I’ve never wanted to punch so many people in the face all at once before.”

  “Being called demon-skinned we can deal with,” Caireen chimed in. “It’s the registration that was worrying. They already knew almost everything about us—”

  “Like what degree we are,” Jengo said, “what element, where we live, even the names of our families—not that they had much on Cai, her being a war orphan and all. Anyway, you know what they wrote on our profiles?” He pointed at himself. “ ‘Dark-skinned Sierran, foreign barbarian.’ ” He jabbed a thumb at Caireen. “ ‘Dark-skinned Tiberran, foreign barbarian.’ Even questioned Isaac for being with us.”