Honor's Price

by Sever Bronny

  “Shields overhead!” Bridget shouted, and everyone summoned their shields as debris rained upon them. Augum shielded Arcanist Ordrid so he could finish his work. Throughout, he watched the monster, mesmerized by its bulk and raw power. He was barely conscious of Ordrid grabbing his injured hand to work on the broken knuckle.

  The dragon, its flapping wings scraping the cavern layer by layer, opened its huge maw and roared, a sound much like a thousand deep horns going off. The ground shook from the noise, forcing everyone, Canterran and Solian alike, to cover their ears.

  “Done!” Ordrid shouted, voice barely audible above the din, and he went on to heal The Grizzly, who was a mess.

  But Augum continued to stare in childish wonder at the awesome sight above him. The dragon pumped its wings downward, stirring up such a great wind that people, braziers and debris were swept away like toys—Augum, Ordrid and everyone else in their group included.

  Augum stopped rolling in time to see the dragon rise and, squeezing through the hole, slam into the protective dome. Cracks zipped along the surface. A split moment later, the reverberation hit them and it was more powerful than Vintus Von Edgeworth’s earthquake. The dome wouldn’t hold, but neither would the main cavern once the dragon began pummeling the roof.

  “It’s going to collapse!” Augum shouted in his amplified voice. “The whole thing is going to come down on us! Everyone out!”

  Friends and enemies got off the ground and ran toward the tunnel entrance.

  Augum caught up with the girls, nullifying the Amplify spell. “We have to clear the Canterrans out and turn the academy into a fortress.”

  “Arcanist Pedworth was killed so it’s all up to the headmaster,” Bridget said, referring to the fact the Academy High Committee could only lock the academy down with all the members present.

  “Let’s take point and armor ourselves,” Leera said, and the three of them scrambled past the horde, casting Elemental Armor. A battle raged inside the escape tunnel where the Canterrans had broken through Augum’s improvised Shield Rune wall to fight Solians. The Grizzly was among them, going toe to toe with overseers and wielding multiple earthen whips. Beyond, it looked like the entire Canterran army crammed the tunnel, eager to join the fray.

  While the trio and their friends ran toward the fight, Bridget did something Augum would forever remember. She amplified her throat and threw up a fist. “I, Arcaner Bridget Abigail Burns, lawfully declare war on Canterra!”

  Their side roared mightily. Augum and Leera followed her lead, echoing the same battle cry, eliciting a second roar from the crowd.

  As soon as they came within range, the trio, encrusted with amplified elemental armor, expertly drew the outline of Birth of the Dragon. Three viciously flailing dragons appeared amidst the Canterran ranks and, in the confined space of the tunnel, tore the soldiers apart, splitting the enemy into two groups—those beyond the dragons, and those trapped between the dragons and Solians.

  Augum drew Burden’s Edge as he ran toward the melee, incanting, “Summano arma grau.” It extended into a lightning longsword, primed with seven Slam castings. Bridget summoned her bow, primed with seven Confusion castings, and Leera her shortsword, primed with seven Fear castings.

  The trio plowed into the battle like hurricanes.

  Augum’s blade sang with claps of thunder as he thrust into an axe-wielding brute’s protruding belly, slapped aside a spiked mace, and parried a sword slash aimed at Leera. Each crack of thunder added impact to his blows, deafening those nearby. Enemies were completely unprepared for this sort of combat, flinching from the thunder at inopportune times and making poor guesses—and the trio took full advantage.

  Bridget’s rapidly drawn arrows thunked into leather armor and bare flesh before disappearing, leaving behind gaping wounds and potent confusion that made the enemy easy prey for Augum and Leera. Leera stuck close to Augum, poking, slicing and parrying in support, for her reach was shorter than his. Almost all those she struck screamed and flailed to get away—and they weren’t the only ones. Much of the enemy, seeing the three Heroes of the Resistance join the fray alongside a lethal 18th degree Grizzly, who made pulp of anyone caught in his path, scrambled to get out of the tunnel, most with glassy wild-eyed looks of sheer terror—only to find a grisly death awaiting them at the jaws of the trio’s summoned dragons.

  Their friends supported the Solian rear ranks, lobbing spells at the enemy and working together to keep as many Solians safe as they could, attending to any who needed healing.

  The trio worked in harmony and fought bravely and ruthlessly, emboldened by desperation and fury—warlocks locked in war. The few enemy blows that struck true met amplified elemental armor, doing no damage. They dispensed the Final Valediction upon each fallen foe and defended each other and other Solians as only devoted Arcaners could.

  As the battle raged, a monstrous cracking sounded behind them, and jagged shimmering pieces of the dome fell through the dig hole, slamming into the ground where the siege engine had been dug up. They disappeared after a short time, leaving gaping wounds in the clay. The earth of the cavern reverberated as the dragon slammed into the main cavern roof that, if broken through, would allow it to escape into the city.

  By the time they fought their way to the spot where Augum had cast the Shield Rune, more freed Solians had joined them. These included villagers from Arinthia as well as Solian Ordinaries from Blackhaven and beyond.

  “Shields up, incoming!” Augum called as they ran up the escape tunnel the Canterrans had used that led to the ancient ruins. Canterran soldiers and bowmen were stationed and ready at the mouth of the tunnel, with the bowmen loosing a volley of arrows when Solians got in range. The trio and their allies summoned their shields to block the rain of arrows, all the while pressing forward. Meanwhile, the tunnel shook as the siege dragon continued to slam into the ceiling of the main cavern. It was only a matter of time until it broke through.

  “Birth of the Dragon again!” Bridget called.

  “I’ll cover!” Augum said, getting in front of the girls while they lined up behind him. Dozens of arrows thunked into his raised shield.

  “Summano elementus minimus draco!” the girls chorused, summoning two elemental dragons—one earthen and one watery—amidst the bowmen. Screams erupted as soldiers tried to get away, but it was a bloodbath. The remainder of the troops, having little to no warlock backup, broke ranks and headed for the exits.

  With the mouth of the tunnel clear and the enemy evacuating the ruins, Augum pointed Burden’s Edge ahead, roaring, “Forward!” The cavern filled with that roar as Solians surged forth, spilling out into the ruins and chasing the remaining soldiers fleeing into the catacombs. Distant explosions sounded off as they triggered their own traps, clearing a safe path for Solians.

  Meanwhile, the dragon repeatedly shot up from the dig hole and slammed into the cavern ceiling, sending monstrous tremors that threatened to knock everyone off their feet.

  Headmaster Byron, flanked by The Grizzly and Arcanist Flagon, found the trio in the tumult, shouting as he ran, “The courtyard! We must secure the courtyard to close the academy!” The wild fury and desperation in his eyes mirrored the mob’s struggle to survive. Tears streamed down his cheeks, telling Augum he was thinking of his murdered family.

  “On it, Headmaster!” Augum replied, and the trio raced ahead of their starved and weakened compatriots, leading the chase after the Canterrans through the catacombs and academy corridors, all the way to the snowy courtyard. There, Augum and the girls rested their hands on their knees as they panted, watching the Canterrans flee into Blackhaven.

  The morning was too beautiful for such violence. The sun peeked out over the eastern horizon, and the sky was cloudless and golden. The air nipped with cold, freezing their breath.

  “Shoot, look,” Leera said, pointing well beyond the academy gate, toward where the Canterrans fled. A monstrous army approached from within the city, led by a procession of Golden Panthers sur
rounding a mounted figure—Emperor Samuel.

  A lagging Canterran bowman sprinted by, repeating the phrase, “Don’t kill me, don’t kill me, don’t k—” only to slam into the snow and begin snoring after Augum snapped a Sleep spell at him.

  “Bring him over. We’ll need him as a messenger.”

  “Fine, but where are you going?” Leera yelled as he ran toward the Elements Wing.

  “To fetch Darby. Don’t let Byron close the academy yet,” he called back.

  He ran through the portal and raced through the Hall of Heroes, conscious of the gaping wound where the Orb of Orion had sat. He made it into the infinite lightning room and, huffing, tried to calm his nerves and lungs as he searched the arcane ether for the faint tether that would lead him to Darby. Sure enough, it surfaced, and he set out again, finding Darby at the foot of a tree, bawling like a baby. One leg was bent grotesquely, suggesting he had tried to climb the tree to use it as a vantage point, but had fallen like a fool.

  “You cursed bastard,” Darby hissed, pointing a shaking hand and hissing, “Dreadus terrablus!”

  Augum, reflexes raging from battle, summoned his shield and snapped, “Mimicus.” The Fear spell reflected back onto an unsuspecting Darby, whose bawling turned into a terrified, sniveling whimper. Augum then grabbed his hands like he would a wicked child and slapped the remaining pair of manacles on him.

  “I’ve had quite enough of you,” Augum said, and yanked at his throat. “Voidus lingua.” Darby went mute, but the terror on his face remained. With a tired groan, Augum hauled him over his shoulder like a sack of spuds and carried him out.

  Back in the courtyard, he saw that a massive bulge had formed on a flat and snowy portion of the academy grounds, well away from the courtyard.

  Augum dropped Darby beside Vintus Von Edgeworth.

  “It won’t be long until it breaks through,” Leera reported. Everyone from the academy surrounded her, including Headmaster Byron, who looked to Augum for a signal to begin the ancient ritual that would close off the academy. Augum glanced beyond the gates. The Canterran army was almost at the bridge that led to those gates.

  “Now would not be a good time to dally, Stone,” The Grizzly said.

  “Yes, sir.” Augum found the captive bowman, who was awake but groggy, and brought him to stare at the hostages. “Do you recognize these two men?”

  “Yes, m’lord, they are Count Vintus Von Edgeworth and His Holy Majesty, Prince Darby Sepherin.”

  There was a monstrous rumbling thump and the bulge expanded and cracked, snow sloughing off to reveal dirt and clay. Leera gave Augum a look that said, One more hit and it will be through. Augum waited for the noise to subside before instructing the soldier, “I want you to sprint to the approaching army and tell them that as long as no more Solians are killed or captured these two men shall remain alive. And neither the academy nor Castle Arinthian shall be destroyed. Do you understand?”

  The bowman, no older than Augum, sputtered, “Yes, yes I do, sir.”

  “Off you go then,” and the bowman sprinted away. Augum looked back at Iron Byron and nodded once. “Headmaster.”

  “Be sure not to trap it with us, Cuthbert,” The Grizzly said.

  Headmaster Byron nodded in acknowledgment and began chanting the ritual in the ancient arcane tongue, which would take time to complete.

  All eyes turned toward the bulge. Moments later, the earth rumbled as the dragon’s snout burst through the academy grounds like a hatchling emerging from its egg. Dirt flew skyward, some landing where people had gathered, forcing them to cast shields over their heads. The dragon pried the hole apart with its massive claws and clambered out. Then it reared up on granary-thick hind legs, spread its barn-sized wings, and flew free, stirring up a wind that blew dirt and snow into the stunned faces of onlookers. It soared overhead in a wide and proud circle, gleaming black and deadly in the morning sun and casting an enormous shadow. Its drawbridge-sized jaws opened as it let loose a mighty roar the entire city heard.

  “We have to show her who we have,” The Grizzly said, hauling Vintus to his feet and holding him by the neck before him. Beside him, an angry Flagon hauled a sniveling Darby to his feet and held him by the neck at arm’s length.

  The dragon circled over the city before turning toward the academy, and the crowd instinctively took a step back. Distant screams of terror came from the city. A slew of Canterran soldiers took shelter, though the army as a whole continued its inexorable march.

  “Here it comes,” Bridget muttered. Her hand intertwined with Olaf’s, and Leera took Augum’s hand in her own. Together they watched as the army and dragon neared, all while listening to Headmaster Byron’s chant.

  On its way, the dragon playfully dove, obliterating a building by flying through it. Timbers, tiles and bricks exploded as the dragon emerged and soared.

  Just as the army was upon the gates and the dragon readied to dive at the crowd, Byron concluded the ritual, and a great crystalline dome appeared around the academy with a noise like cracking ice. The dragon veered at the last moment to hover overhead, wings flapping steadily. The Grizzly and Flagon led their captors forth to stand apart from the crowd.

  “So long as you do not harm this academy or kingdom, no harm shall come to your betrothed or your beloved uncle!” The Grizzly roared in an amplified voice at the dragon. “Do you understand?”

  The dragon stared with malevolent barrel-sized eyes before roaring in rage. It flew off to circle around the now halted army and landed near it.

  “They got the message!” The Grizzly announced, and a collective cheer went up as exhausted people hugged.

  Augum pumped his fist before accepting hugs and whispers of congratulations from those around him.

  “Stone. Burns. Jones. Come here, monkeys.”

  Augum let go of Laudine and saw Jez smiling proudly, hands on her hips. “Shut up, everybody,” she said, and the crowd quieted down, though continued embracing and holding each other by the waists and by the shoulders. “I know it’s been a harrowing night. But before we collect ourselves and figure out what we need to do to survive, I just want to announce we have a ceremony to attend. It seems …” Her gaze returned to the trio, eyes twinkling. “It seems that Arcaners from an age past are waiting for our heroic trio back in the Arcaner Studies room, to bestow upon them the Arcaner rank of dragoon.”

  The Crackle of the Fire

  A little later that morning Augum, Bridget and Leera stood on the sandy floor of the arena before seven legendary Arcaners representing all seven primary elements. Among those Arcaners were Atrius Arinthian, Rebecca Von Edgeworth and Trintus Bladeofbright, each with solemn but proud expressions. Beside them was the dragon desk, behind which stood Dragoon Pelagia. And all around, the bleachers were filled with academy students, arcanists, and people from all over the kingdom who had been imprisoned in the catacombs when the academy was locked down. Even The Grizzly was there, after taking the time to post guards around academy grounds and secure Canterran prisoners, which had given the trio a chance to freshen up and change into new robes. Augum also repaired his necklaces and put them on for the ceremony, though he resolved not to wear them to combat again, having learned his lesson.

  “Anyone else nervous?” Leera whispered, hands fidgeting before her. “They’re all gawking at us, and I don’t just mean the Arcaners.”

  Augum tried not to smile too broadly as he glanced around. There was an excited buzz in the air as people giddily whispered to each other and pointed at them and shared admiring looks. A few waved, trying to get his attention.

  “They’re just happy to have a reason to hope again,” he whispered in reply, returning his gaze to the Arcaners, who were standing at ease.

  Bridget glanced over her shoulder at their group of friends, who sat directly behind them. She smiled at Olaf, who proudly smiled back. “They look exhausted,” she said after turning back.

  “And we don’t?” Leera countered. “All I want is twenty hours of s
leep. Is that too much to ask? Wait, better make it twenty-four.”

  At last, Trintus Bladeofbright, with his burning visage and famous Frock of Perpetual Fire, stepped forward. The crowd respectfully hushed and stood.

  “Step forth, Squire Burns,” Trintus boomed. Bridget did so. “Squire Burns, on this historic day, thou hast proven thyself worthy of the Arcaner path.” He opened his hands before him. “Dost thou possess a family blade?”

  Bridget looked back hesitantly. As the crowd stirred, Augum withdrew Burden’s Edge and presented it to her pommel-first. She accepted it, mouthing, “Thank you,” and placed it in Trintus’ hands.

  “Kneel and summon thy shield, Squire Burns.”

  Bridget did as he asked and the crowd rustled with anticipation. Augum saw that her free hand trembled.

  “Squire Burns, swear on thy shield that thou shalt do thy utmost to uphold the Sacred Chivalric Code of the Arcaner.”

  “I swear on my shield that I shall do my utmost to uphold the Sacred Chivalric Code of the Arcaner.”

  Trintus gently placed the tip of Burden’s Edge on her right shoulder. “In accordance with the ancient Arcaner traditions, before these witnesses and before the holy Unnameables—” Trintus raised the sword over her head and placed it on her left shoulder. “—I, Trintus Caduthius Bladeofbright, dub thee Dragoon Burns.” His arm exploded with fire, and that fire travelled through the blade and on to Bridget’s shield, where it settled, burning in a new depiction—that of a golden castle, resting atop the golden motto. “Semperis vorto honos.”

  “Semperis vorto honos,” Bridget repeated solemnly.

  Trintus then kneeled before her and lowered his head, as did all the legendary Arcaners behind him, and solemnly presented her with Burden’s Edge. “Now rise and accept your blade, Dragoon Burns.”