Honor's Price

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Honor's Price Page 47

by Sever Bronny


  “So we face numerous obstacles,” Bridget continued in a hushed murmur as Fungal animatedly explained the myriad uses of an 8th degree Glue Rune and how it subtly differed from a Seal enchantment. Bridget listed off the problems. “How to sustain ourselves food-wise while we’re training; how to combat sleep deprivation, which will be a big one; how to fight concentration fatigue and emotional fatigue; how to cover our dues to avoid work detail; how to tackle Arcaner, Rivican and Canterran research; and how to trigger the Arcaner course so we can actually begin it.”

  “All while watching our backs for assassins, Path Disciples and overseers,” Leera muttered.

  “The rest of us will cover the research angle,” Caireen whispered. “You three focus on the course.”

  “You can also leave the money thing to us,” Laudine added. “We’ll coordinate with Alyssa, Ollie and Jez and make it work, even if we have to rob the Black Bank.”

  “For food, you’ll have to stuff yourselves every chance you get,” Isaac said. “And load up on snacks.”

  “I have an idea regarding sleep deprivation,” Augum said, head tilted and a hand covering his mouth to mask his whispering. “We take miniature naps throughout the day.”

  “Now that’s an idea I can get behind,” Leera said. “I love naps. No problem there.”

  “Hey!” Pointy Chin snapped. “Eyes forward or you’ll be separated!”

  Augum’s and Isaac’s heads snapped forward as they continued scratching gibberish onto their lesson parchments. Fungal returned to the lecture as if nothing had happened.

  “I suggest we take the Archives scroll to the Arcaner Studies room at lunch,” Bridget murmured. “Maybe something will come loose from my memory.”

  Augum wanted to chime in but turning his head ran the risk of Pointy Chin noticing, for the man was watching them closely, as were the three overseers tasked with watching over the room. And then there was Katrina, who constantly glanced back like a watchful guard, suspicious of the trio.

  Augum resorted to thinking about the most difficult problem they faced—triggering the course. The solution had to be logical within the framework of the Arcaner order. He thought back to all his studies on the order, the ancient scrolls and tomes and notations and wall inscriptions, searching his mind for an answer. As Fungal reviewed the history of all the major runes they had learned this term, Augum worked on the problem until he came up with a powerful question that might lead them to the solution—if the first test required the person to prove he was a warlock in order to trigger the test, what was required to trigger the dragoon course?

  The question bounced around in his brain for the rest of the lesson without resolution.

  Lunch consisted of the trio eating as much as they could stomach and then stuffing their satchels with more food acquired by their friends—and mostly by Isaac, who enjoyed telekinetically pilfering food from the kitchen while Caireen distracted the cooks with stupid questions. Apples, oranges, fistfuls of sunflower seeds, dried salted beef, bread—anything their friends could get away with snagging.

  Bloated after eating, a lull in conversation came. The trio exchanged a tentative look, for the time had come to tell their friends what they had been withholding from them until after Haylee’s womanhood celebration.

  Augum spotted Cry schlepping past and waved him over.

  “Sure about him?” Leera asked.

  “Like we said, we’ll need allies. This is big. He has contacts. Maybe when the moment comes …”

  The girls nodded their understanding.

  “Got something for you,” Augum said when Cry drifted near.

  Cry examined their faces, seemed to sense it was serious, and sat down at the table.

  “So, uh, we have something to tell you all,” Bridget whispered, shoving aside her empty food tray. She placed her hands on the table and laid out everything they had learned, including what King Samuel had said and tasked them with, and especially about his threat to annihilate a quarter million lives. By the end of it, Caireen had a hand over her mouth, Laudine sat gaping in horror, Isaac stared at his lap, Jengo held his head in his hands, Cry’s usually droopy eyes were wide open, and Haylee looked like she might vomit again.

  “It goes without saying you’ll need to be extremely careful who you tell this to,” Bridget added, making eye contact with each of them. They nodded.

  The friends parted ways with few words, understanding what was at stake. Even Cry had nothing to say for a change, forehead creased in deep thought. The trio headed to the round Arcaner Studies room, while most of their friends went off to the library to do research.

  “Where are you three going now?” a voice sang at the trio just as they departed the Supper Hall. They turned to find Katrina idly twirling her scepter while leaning against the wall, her diamond tiara tilted slightly. Carp was with her like a dutiful stooge, arms crossed, both wearing arrogant grins on their faces. And hovering nearby was none other than Ethios Kamagant, The Butcher. Katrina pointed her scepter at Bridget and Leera. “Drop those piglet eyes, ladies. There’s a Path Disciple present.”

  Leera’s hands balled into fists, but she dropped her eyes, as did Bridget.

  Katrina sashayed around the trio and dragged the scepter across Augum’s shoulders. He shrugged it off, but she only chortled. “So you found a way around my aunt’s rule expressly forbidding you to attend any gatherings.”

  “That rule was for Arinthia,” Leera hissed.

  Katrina strolled to stand before Leera. “That’s Princess Katrina to you.” She looked to Augum as she spoke. “What’s the fine for such intransigence, Disciple Fowler?”

  “I reckon ten crowns ought to make it right, Princess.”

  Leera scoffed. “You aren’t getting a single castle from us.”

  Katrina snorted a laugh. “She’s so daft she doesn’t realize what she just said. Oh, sweetie, but I did get a single castle from you, didn’t I? The most important one of them all.”

  “A temporary problem we’ll eventually solve,” Leera snapped stiffly.

  “I think I’ll take those crowns from you now, thank you very much.” Katrina stared at Augum as if waiting for him to do something about his woman. “No? Well then I guess one of your friends will be doing some—” She mimed shoveling with her scepter while clicking her tongue once for effect. “—digging. Who will it be? Want to choose for us, or shall we make it a surprise?”

  “We don’t have to listen to this,” Augum said, turning his back, the girls following.

  “Oh, but you do, darling, you do. You think I’m bluffing? See, because you didn’t invite us to your lame party, I never got to deliver my present. How do you think that blonde limping airhead will fair toiling in back-breaking labor, leg of hers hurting the whole way? That will be my womanhood present to her. And I’ll tell her, ‘Well, your so-called hero friends didn’t stick up for you, so here you are. Enjoy your present!’ ” She placed a finger to her lips and looked up. “Although, hmm, not sure she’d be a very good digger. I bet you she can clean floors and chamber pots though.”

  Bridget turned around and marched right up to Katrina. “You’re going to do whatever it is you’re going to do regardless. Why don’t you just do it and stop bothering us, Princess.”

  Katrina pressed Bridget’s pert nose, and she recoiled. “You’re adorable when you’re upset. But you’re so fragile, too. How did you survive all those harrowing encounters you all supposedly went through? Hmm? You’re like a porcelain doll, prone to—” She opened her hand only to crush it into a fist. “—breaking.”

  Bridget turned to stride off with Augum and Leera—but Katrina wasn’t finished. “That castle of yours is generating quite a bit of income, you know,” she said, confirming what Augum suspected—she was selling Trainer access for money. When he ignored the jab, Katrina’s soft sing-song voice returned. “I know what you’re searching for.” The trio froze as Katrina slapped the scepter into her palm. “The. Heart. Of. The. Colossus.” She adde
d a note of condescension by singing the last word in a high pitch.

  The trio turned around. There was no use asking how she’d found out. Darby was the only logical explanation.

  “This is what I want from you. You’ll keep me informed. And if by some miracle you discover what the Heart of the Colossus is, you’ll tell me. Do you understand?” When they did not reply, she took a step forward. “You don’t yet realize how much power I wield, do you? I no longer have to pretend to be someone else. I’m free to do as I please. Look, I even have The Butcher at my back, a privilege even you pathetic lot weren’t granted when you were royalty.”

  The trio glanced at the notorious warlock, who looked rather bored.

  “They done look mutinous to me,” Carp said. “Eyes down, ladies. That’ll be ’nother two crowns The Path’ll be dingin’ your pals.”

  “I sense skepticism.” Katrina swung her scepter in a circle. “All right then, a demonstration is in order. Go on ahead on your little quest like the good lapdogs you are. You pretentious upstarts might be under King Samuel’s protection, but no one else is. You’ll return to find out how much you have underestimated me. After that I will expect a daily report on your progress, and you’ll swear on your shields so I know you’re telling the truth. Remember how I told you Arcaners died out for a reason? You’ll find out why. And Augum … don’t forget you still owe my aunt and uncle money.” That blasted singing tone again. It irritated Augum’s teeth like nails on a chalkboard. Yet it only raised in pitch and mocking sweetness. “Oh and girlies—have you figured it out yet that he’s going to get you and your friends killed?” She nodded at Augum.

  The trio stood mutinous, only for Bridget to turn and stride off, the other two following.

  “She’s even trying to drive in a wedge between us,” Bridget hissed as they marched along.

  “Fates how I loathe her,” Leera muttered. “I’ll bash that chin in with my shield before I swear on it.”

  “She’s anxious to humiliate me,” Augum said. “That arena loss grinds at her, as does the death of her father and grandfather at Mrs. Stone’s hand.”

  “Then I am not surprised conquering the castle wasn’t enough,” Bridget said. “Again and again, she’s proven to be dangerous.”

  “What if we publicly duel her in the old way?” Leera asked. “Any one of us would do. Yeah, we’d risk expulsion, but maybe the arcanists would understand.”

  “King Samuel would never allow it,” Bridget said. “The quest is too important to him. Besides, we don’t have the time or energy for such things. We need to focus, and we shouldn’t have provoked her like that.”

  Augum didn’t tell them how he’d made things worse by provoking her in Survival class.

  “We’ll have to keep our eyes out for her and watch our stuff in case she slips a tracking pebble in again,” Bridget went on. “In the meantime, let’s focus on the Arcaner course.”

  They discussed possible ways to begin the course the entire way to the Arcaner Studies room. When they stepped through the ancient door, the two-hundred-foot-wide tower-like room, with its infinite ceiling, loomed before them like they’d entered the bottom of a great well.

  Augum rooted through his satchel, withdrew the brass hourglass every student was required to have and flipped it over. “We have about half an hour to figure this out before Arcane Army Combat class. Now let’s have a look at that scroll again for the millionth time.”

  They tried everything they could think of. Unconceal. Reveal. Activating what runes they knew. Prodding and poking at anything that looked like a lever. Trying to open stone blocks with lit palms. Even performing the stupid dance steps on the arena floor and singing the cursed lyrics. Nothing worked. And then, with time running out, Augum remembered the powerful question he had thought of earlier in class.

  “Hey, if the first Arcaner test required us to prove we are warlocks to trigger that test, what would the relative requirement be for triggering the course?” He had asked the question while milling about in the center of the sandy arena floor, hourglass resting on the dragon desk.

  Bridget, who was by a wall a hundred feet away, raised a finger, voice floating across the space. “I like this line of thinking.” She strode down the primitive stone bleachers to join him, while Leera joined them from the opposite side.

  “Think back to that moment when you cast Centarro, Bridge, when you put all the pieces together,” Augum said. “What did you see in this dance number?”

  “Why don’t you cast Centarro again?” Leera asked.

  Bridget glanced at the near half-empty hourglass. “There’s no time, and I’m not entirely certain casting Centarro would help. I know I saw something in this dance tutorial, but it came at the very end, when Centarro had all but fogged over my brain. I can’t remember past that fog, that’s why I don’t believe recasting the spell will help. It’s hard to explain, but the memory lies beyond the overdraw boundary. For me to retrieve it—”

  “You’d have to overdraw,” Augum concluded.

  “Exactly.”

  “Yeah, we’re not going through that again,” Augum said flatly.

  “But being here, I do remember one other thing. Our shields. They have to be lit.”

  Augum and Leera exchanged mystified looks before summoning their shields along with Bridget. Golden script flowed along the edge of a watery pond leaf shield; a branch, bark and ivy shield; and a hard crust lightning shield. Then they bounced some more ideas around.

  “Bah!” Leera growled, disappearing her shield. “We’re getting nowhere. Give me that damn scroll.” She snatched it from Bridget. “ ‘A Teenager’s Tutorial on How to Dance to My Song, “Dork’s First Conquest Blocked,” by Headmaster Charles Chauncey the Third.’ What a pile of manure. I’d like to shove this up Headmaster Chauncey’s—” Then she froze. “Does anyone happen to recall the subjects Headmaster Chauncey taught?”

  “Gods, I do—” Bridget blurted. “I mean, I didn’t before, but now that you bring it up, I do. The courses he taught somehow factored into my vision under the influence of Centarro, I know it did. We’re on the right path!”

  “Well, we could be on the path if you’d tell us the bleedin’ course names.”

  “Right. Sorry. Arcaneology, Arithmetic, Cryptography, Runes, Dance Club.”

  “Cryptography!” they chorused.

  “But you checked it over for cryptographic phrasings, didn’t you?” Bridget pressed.

  Leera blinked. “Uh …”

  “You … didn’t check it over, did you?”

  “I mean, yeah, I checked it over, but nothing jumped out. What? How am I supposed to remember every stupid detail we come across? I didn’t recall that he actually taught Cryptography, all right? Yeesh!” Then she sighed and looked back at the scroll. “I’m sorry, I guess I got caught up in it being nothing more than a stupid dance tutorial, rather than trying to see beyond it, just like they teach in Cryptography. See? This is why I’m an awful student.”

  “So what does it mean?” Augum asked, looking over her shoulder at the tutorial. “And you’re not an awful student. You’re just … impatient.”

  “I guess.” Leera squeezed her forehead and then drew that hand through her raven hair. “Well, let’s start with the title of the song. ‘Dork’s First Conquest Blocked.’ The first thing they teach in Cryptography is that the key to a puzzle is usually hidden—” She frowned, tilted her head, then tilted it the other way. Then she shoved the parchment into Augum’s chest and began writing the words into the sand of the arena.

  “What are you doing?” Augum asked. “You see something?”

  “Don’t know yet.” She stepped back from the giant letters. “ ‘Dork’s First Conquest Blocked.’ What an odd title. Almost … suspiciously odd, don’t you think? I wonder if it’s possible that …” She pointed at letters and mumbled things to herself under her breath.

  Bridget’s face scrunched in the same concentrative way as Leera’s. “You think it could be
an anagram, don’t you?” Leera didn’t stop mumbling, so Bridget joined her. Soon all three of them were drawing, crossing out and erasing words in the sand.

  “First block second quest!” Leera shouted, hands raised in triumph. The other two stepped away from their fruitless efforts to join her in grinning proudly. “Fates smack me upside the head, it’s been in front of us the entire time,” she added. “Nothing but a stupid anagram, with a few letters repeating. Now let’s solve the rest.”

  But it soon became evident that the rest was meaningless, or impossible to solve without at the very least casting Centarro, for there were way too many letters involved in the song.

  Leera bit at her thumbnail. “They also teach in Cryptography that there can be meaningless distractions that serve as nothing more than red herrings, or filler.”

  “What are you saying?” Augum asked.

  “I think the lyrics are nothing more than cover. Either that, or—” Leera picked up the scroll again. “Holy Fates, I think I know what it means. First block, second quest refers to a reference point, and the dance steps are where we count from the original stone block!”

  The trio took one look at each other and bolted for the charred block that triggered the first Arcaner quest, a block that once belonged to an ancient Rivican construct that existed prior to the academy. Augum returned to fetch his hourglass, which had now passed the halfway mark. The bell would sound at any moment and they would be late.

  “Of course—” Augum began after catching up, huffing. By then, the girls had begun counting the blocks based on the dance steps in the song. “I distinctly recall reading that the first quest led to the second. I didn’t realize it meant it literally—that the path could be written down anywhere using directions disguised as nothing more than a dance step, essentially creating a map. Come to think of it, Bridge, I think I remember you saying something about a map when you were under the influence of Centarro.”

 

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