by Sever Bronny
Jez’s brows rose in mild surprise.
“Come to think of it, maybe you should ask him out on a date and then change his oafish mind.”
Jez smiled roguishly. “Change his mind about what?”
Augum withdrew the leather pouch with the key and placed it on the table between them.
“What’s that, Stone, chocolate?”
“Not exactly,” and he quietly explained his plan to snatch the Dreadnought armor and haul it into the academy through the old sealed coal tunnels. “And we’d need The Grizzly to get the key for the other end,” he concluded. “But like I said, we have a map and a man on the inside of the Royal Armory already. What we need is a high-degree warlock or two such as yourself to spearhead the effort.”
Jez’s mouth was slightly agape.
“So, uh, what do you think?”
“Well it ain’t chocolate, is it?”
“Come on, what do you think?”
She stared at him, chin resting on her fist. “You know what? I’m speechless.”
“Impossible.”
She flashed him a Yeah, well, there you have it look.
“I—we—can’t do it without you,” he said.
“Oh, I know.”
“Then what is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on, Jez.”
“All right. I’m just … you continually surprise me, is all.” She looked at the leather pouch. “Hmm, those tunnels are laced with tracks. I suppose we could use them to arcanely push along a train of coal carts stuffed with the armor.”
“That’s … actually brilliant.” It also meant they might get it done in way fewer trips, depending on how many carts they found.
“That’s because I thought of it.” Jez winked, flicked a finger and the pouch slid toward her. She loosed the strings and turned the pouch over. A key wrapped in parchment thudded onto the table. She unfolded the parchment. “A runic password for the key and instructions on how to get the guards to stand down.” She looked at him. “You really believe in this plan, don’t you?”
“I do.” He nodded at the key and parchment. “And those are courtesy of the Lady High Inquisitor.”
“You’re a terrible jester, Stone.” Then her eyebrows rose. “Wait, you’re serious.”
“Well, the package originally came from the king, but yes.”
“Gods be merciful, I bet she’s loving this.” Jez shivered, face mired in disgust. “Ugh, I won’t have to rethink my opinion of her, will I?”
Augum shrugged.
“So you want me to spearhead this little quest?”
“Yes.”
Jez released a long sigh as if it were a chore, but then smiled wryly. “All right, Stone,” and while Augum smiled his gratitude, she stuffed the instructions and key back into the pouch, then put them away in her pocket. She resumed watching him with that wry smile.
“What?
“That lunatic still teaching Survival?”
“Paranoid Pedworth?”
“That’s the one.”
“Wait, you took Survival? I didn’t know that. And nobody I know takes that course.” Then he added in a mutter, “Except Katrina.”
“Absolutely. I loved that course. How do you think I survived two wars?”
Right, Augum thought. The Narsinian War and the Legion War.
“Paranoid Pedworth.” Jez fondly gazed off into the distance. “He was … interesting, to say the least.” She leaned forward and idly traced a finger on the table. “There was this one time he wanted to prove it was possible to survive underground without taking anything with him.” She double-tapped the table. “And so he lived deep in the catacombs for three quints, eating nothing but moss and licking the walls for water.” Her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, lest Leera woke up. Augum couldn’t help but join her. “Fifteen days of licking the walls and eating moss. When he emerged,” she went on, softly snorting between laughs, “he looked like a featherless chicken. And you know how he walks, right?” She folded her arms into chicken wings and bobbed her head back and forth. “Like a dumbstruck chicken.”
By then, Augum had a hand over his eyes, elbow on the table, as his shoulders also shook from quiet laughter. “Yeah, he walks like a chicken, all right,” he snorted. “That stupid chin wag too.”
“Oh, gods, the chin wag.” Jez imitated it, adding in a ridiculous eye pop, and Augum about lost it. He had to hold onto the table while covering his mouth. Behind him, Leera stirred.
“Shh, quiet,” Jez said, putting a finger to her lips. “Stop being funny.”
“I’m not being funny, it’s you,” he hissed through his hand.
Jez took a few deep breaths to calm herself. The wind continued to rattle the windows and the fire crackled on. Then she whispered, “Does his eye still wander?”
Augum burst a suppressed laugh into his hand and nodded.
“So that hasn’t gone away, huh?” She placed two fists underneath her eyes and wonkily stuck a finger out from each hand. “Because it only happens when he gets really into what’s he saying. So he’d get all riled up on some kooky conspiracy theory, and, lo and behold …” A finger wandered while the other one remained straight.
Augum was in tears, quietly slapping his knee and frantically pleading with his other hand for her to stop.
“I swear the man was an actual chicken in his past life.”
“Stop,” Augum wheezed. “Please, enough.” He wiped his cheeks with the back of his sleeves. “We shouldn’t be laughing like this after what happened tonight.”
“I know.” Jez sighed affectionately as she watched him. “I know …”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Augum asked, suspicious.
“You know you three annoy the living hell out of me most of the time, right? What with your endless naivety, your nattering questions, your disgusting need to never offend people, your incessant ingratitude for my sacrifices, and especially your constant doe-eyed—” She made her hands attack each other like pigeons fighting. She shuddered. “Gross. Well, that’s obviously you two only.” She nodded at Leera. Just as Augum was about to protest, she held up a finger. “But …” The corner of her mouth curved upward. “But, I’m proud of you. I’m proud of all of you. You’ve gone through some of the most harrowing experiences anyone could go through, and look at you three. You’re wonderful young man and women grown. Well, growing, at least.” Then she added, “Albeit perhaps a touch on the immature side still, and horribly, painfully naive. But you’ll figure it out. I know you will. And you know what? I’m awfully proud to be your mentor. Don’t look so sheepish, I am. And you know what else? I complain about you lot, but I’m here, aren’t I?”
Augum tilted his head and smiled warmly at his mentor. “You are.” And for the first time, he realized he genuinely loved her like he had loved Mrs. Stone, like how he imagined loving a mother was like.
Jez recoiled. “All right, now you’re looking at me a certain way.”
Augum raised his hands and relaxed in his chair. “You’re right, we don’t ever thank you, do we? So … thank you. I mean it, Jez. You didn’t have to take us on. You could have told Mrs. Stone to shove it when she asked you to look after us. But you didn’t, and like you said, you’re still here. So … thanks, Ms. Jezebel Terse.”
Jez swallowed as her eyes watered, making Augum look away, embarrassed for her and for himself. This was way too much talk about emotions and feelings and the like, and he was definitely not used to it, nor did he want to make it a habit. It was too awkward.
He crossed his arms and watched the flames. For a time, neither of them spoke. They just listened to the wind whistle through the cracks, to the crackle of the fire, to the quiet night.
“I have Survival first thing in the morn tomorrow,” Augum finally said.
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Sure, I memorized all your schedules.”
“But I thought you said—”
&n
bsp; She waved dismissively. “That was just to get you talking.”
Augum shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I am.” Jez nodded at Leera. “Look at her. It’s ridiculously unfair that she can sleep like a log. Damn teenagers.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You two haven’t broken your promise to me, have you?”
“Jez, really?”
“What? You don’t have parents, you just have me. If it wasn’t for me, you two would be—” She did that pigeons-fighting-each-other thing with her hands again. “—constantly. Constantly.”
“Jez, really now.” He melted in his chair, mortified. Gods, just please stop talking about it.
“I know you’re embarrassed, but it’s something we need to discuss. You don’t have a father figure in your life to teach you these things. And they certainly don’t teach them at the academy, do they? So where will you learn it from, huh? Where? From whom? Exactly. Exactly.”
“Jez—”
“Hey, this ain’t no picnic for me either, mister,” she said in a country twang. “Believe you me.”
Augum rubbed his forehead, searching about for something to slither and die under.
“All right, all right.” She sighed. “Tell you what, I’ll have a talk with your girlfriend sometime.” She made a face like she wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.
“Ugh.” Augum squirmed in his chair.
“Fine, fine. No more on the subject, I promise … for now.” She leaned back, crossed her arms, and tapped her elbows with her fingers. Then she straightened. “Enough dawdling. Come on, wake your girlfriend up. Go on. In fact, wake everybody. We’ve got work to do. We’re going to address that scroll and then do some serious planning and training. And you’re going to tell me everything about what happened in detail. I want to be brought up to speed. Move it, monkey. And let’s start by getting some tea on the boil.”
Ashes
“But isn’t it, like, super dangerous to drink and teleport?” Haylee asked.
“ ‘But isn’t it, like, super dangerous,’ ” Jez mimicked. “You little weasel.”
“I’m not a weasel, Jez.”
“I know. And let’s just say it’s not exactly advised.”
“You can get expelled for it in the academy.”
“Lucky for us, we’re not in the academy, are we? Besides, the food and tea have sobered me up. What? They have. Now clam up, blondie, and hold hands.”
Augum, Leera, Haylee and Jez were outside Haylee’s house in the freezing wind and snow, wearing their winter coats. They had already discussed the day’s events in detail and sketched out a preliminary plan on getting the Dreadnought armor to the academy, the entire endeavor delighting Jez. She and the girls had also assuaged Augum’s guilt over Eric, explaining it was Katrina who had betrayed her cousin, not Augum. Then they had pored over the scroll and what it meant while Billy and Charles had fixed them a late meal consisting of roast chicken, buttered potatoes, asparagus, and strong Tiberran tea. Now they were on their way to the location Augum had chosen—with a little help from Jez—as the most suitable when it came to his former father and the Memorial Ceremony.
“Everyone ready?” Jez asked after they’d linked hands. When they nodded, she concentrated, then said, “Impetus peragro grapa lestato exa exaei.”
There was a thwomp and Augum felt his body get yanked. The somersault sensation ended shortly thereafter, when they appeared in waist-high snow amongst a village of snow-covered burnt ruins. The night was thick and cold and cloudy. Snow blew about in a gentle wind. Trees swayed and creaked.
“Shyneo,” everyone said, and hands lit up with water, ice and lightning, bathing the area in cool blue light.
“All right, you three do your thing,” Jez said. “I’ll prep the fire. Where’d it happen, Stone? I’ve only been here once before.”
Augum pointed toward a dip in the snow and Jez set off.
“I hate coming back here,” Leera mumbled as she tromped toward the graveyard.
Augum and Haylee mutely followed. The memories of what had transpired here in Sparrow’s Perch during the war crashed through Augum’s mind like a tidal wave. He could almost hear the echo of screams. But those screams were juxtaposed with a few precious happy memories too. He recalled he and the girls feasting after a village naming ceremony. They’d discussed Augum attending their impromptu warlock school. It had been such a happy moment, when Augum had made true friends for the first time in his life. And it was when he had met Leera too.
But it’s what happened after that defined his life, and his relationship with his former father. And as his shadow—backlit from Haylee’s palm—fell over the marker of Leera’s parents’ graves, he thought of the quest ahead. He needed to accept that what the man had done was part of the Arinthian line’s legacy, whether Augum wanted it to be or not.
Leera dropped to her knees in the snow before the markers of Oscar and Matilda Jones. “Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad. Miss you. Miss you lots. Um …” She reached up and grabbed Augum’s lightning-lit hand and dragged him forth. “I wanted you to meet my boyfriend. You remember him, right? Dad, you never got to meet him because I forgot to introduce you last time he came. So, uh, here he is.” Tears rolled freely down her cheeks. “I hope you approve of him because I love him very much.”
Augum squeezed Leera’s hand.
“So say hi to Dad, Aug.”
“Um, hello, Mr. Jones,” Augum whispered.
“Right. Uh, so, uh, like I said, I miss you both so much and I think about you every day.” She released a shuddering breath. “Okay, news! When I came last year, I mentioned we were attending the academy again. Things aren’t going very well, though. The Canterrans invaded the kingdom and some golden-eyed lunatic’s in charge. History sure repeats itself, doesn’t it? Except I guess things are different because this is a foreign kingdom and they want revenge for past wrongs or whatever. Oh, and you’ll never believe it, but, Dad, you remember how you said you would have been fine if I’d chosen to become an arcane blacksmith? Even after all the girls made fun of me for not wanting to go after a proper girly occupation? Well, I hope you don’t mind, but we’ve become Arcaners! Yeah, that’s right, all three of us—Augum, Bridget and I. We declared last month. I just haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. Isn’t that amazing? Who would have thunk it? Your daughter, who you always hoped would amount to more than her saddler father, is an Arcaner squire. I’m like a knight but a warlock. So a warlock-knight. I’m sure you know about their history. I guess we’ll be righting wrongs and following a code of honor and adventuring and stuff.” She sighed. “I … I hope you’re proud of me. Anyway, whew, look at me ramble. Bridget says hi, and I’ll pass along your best wishes to the others.” She leaned forward and kissed each marker. “Love you both so much. Now you go on and rest …”
Augum’s chest tightened as he vividly recalled feet dangling helplessly in the air before convulsing in the grip of chain lightning. These markers were his former father’s legacy. It was his legacy—the weight he had to carry for the rest of his life.
Haylee hugged Leera, followed by Augum, who whispered he loved her and wished he had gotten to know her parents.
They silently strolled from marker to marker, Augum and Leera holding hands, pausing before each one to reflect on the person, taking extra time before the markers of Henry and Annette Burns, Bridget’s parents, and her brothers, Oswald and Christopher Burns.
“Bridget says hi, Mr. and Mrs. Burns,” Leera whispered, lovingly caressing the markers. “And she’s sorry she can’t be here. She’s at the academy, recovering from arcane fever. But she’ll be fine, I promise. She misses you very much, and she thinks about you often. She had a boyfriend but things didn’t work out. But she’s doing all right, uh, even though the kingdom’s not doing that well. And we’re working on that. Oh, she says hi to her twit brothers—just jesting. She wouldn’t call you twits. That’s just me. But I do remember how you teased her. I jest, I jest. Anyway, uh, all of you wo
uld be real proud of her. Real proud. Because she’s an Arcaner. I know, I sometimes can’t believe it either. And she’s super smart and loves her studies. And she’s compassionate and kind. Still working on the boyfriend situation, uh, but I guess you’d be totally fine with that. No rush, right? All right, uh, I guess we’ll see you next time. Lots of love.” She kissed her fingers and tapped the headstones. “Bye.”
“Bye,” Augum and Haylee whispered.
Leera allowed Augum to place an arm around her shoulder and draw her in as they silently trundled back toward Jez, who was telekinetically piling frozen logs and clearing snow. While they waited for her to finish, Augum and the girls went over Haylee’s scroll, until Augum had it memorized.
“Nothing like piling wood to finish sobering you up,” Jez muttered, rubbing her hands for warmth. “You’ll have to forgive me as I’m a touch rusty with the spell. Been a while, you know.” She nodded at the pile. “Take your places, monkeys. Let’s get this done so we can get to some badly needed training.”
Augum took a spot beside the pit and focused on the logs, preparing his soul for the ceremony. He was surprised when Leera and Haylee joined him, until he realized why … Eric. The sacred fires of the Memorial Ceremony would help them deal with his loss.
Jez cleared her throat, then cleared it again. “Gods, I’m a terrible singer too. I hear a word about my singing from either of you, even so much as a peep—” She raised a stern finger in warning. “All right, here goes.” She took a deep breath. “I call upon the spirits of the dead to listen to the cries of the living, and to remember those they left behind, those who still breathe the air and walk above ground. Dearly departed, allow us a final goodbye as we mourn your passing from this life.” She raised a hand before the woodpile. It burst with a high fire that soon settled to a guttering blue flame. “Hear the cry,” and Jez began to sing. The tune was harsh and wavering, but soon gained confidence as it soared above the flames, above the snowy trees, and out into the windy night. Her voice was crudely beautiful, like a lone wolf calling out into the night looking for her lost mate.
