Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4)

by Sever Bronny

  Mr. Okeke glanced toward the door. “Mr. Harvus has to realize this is not Canterra. I have never liked the man. There is something … not right with him.”

  “But without Nana, we’ll need him to get to the library in Antioc.” If he’d even take them there. Everything was in question at this point. They had to solve this Harvus problem, and soon.

  “He is cunning. What does he want?”

  “I think he’s only waiting for Nana to pay him, then I think he’ll quit. Or at least I hope he will.”

  Mr. Okeke pressed his hands together. “Augum, do you honestly believe he will give up the Agonex and the Orb of Orion even after he is paid?”

  Augum bit his lip in thought. Harvus had to know the immeasurable value of both of the artifacts, yet who would buy them from him? Only the Legion, and the man hates the Legion. But surely even he wouldn’t do such a thing … would he?

  “I guess not … err … I’m not sure.”

  Mr. Okeke nodded slowly. “Do you mind if I speak with Albert on the matter?”

  “Of course not, Mr. Okeke.” If only Harvus had a weakness—suddenly it occurred to Augum that he did have one—

  “Wine,” he blurted.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Harvus likes wine.”

  There was the sound of footsteps and talking outside. Mr. Okeke gave a knowing nod and fell silent. Soon the door opened and in spilled the entire throng—Jengo, Mr. Goss, Leland, Bridget, Leera, and lastly, tight-lipped Mr. Harvus, whose beady eyes immediately found Augum. There was a victorious glint in them.

  “Those Legion soldiers are taking a mighty risk indeed, Leopold,” Mr. Goss said, continuing his conversation from outside. “I think them brave men indeed. Perhaps we could all work together somehow.”

  Harvus cleared his throat in a reminding fashion when Mr. Goss had not placed his shoes in a straight manner, something the trio had long learned to do. For a moment, Mr. Goss was taken aback, but then happily arranged his shoes, chortling, “You are quite particular, Leopold, almost as particular as my dearly departed wife, bless her soul.”

  Augum noticed Leera staring at him, but when he turned in her direction, she looked away, cheeks reddening. His insides buzzed like a scion.

  “Perhaps a quick nightcap?” Mr. Okeke offered with a smile.

  “I am afraid we still have work to do,” Mr. Harvus said. “The cabin for Augum and I needs to be built, and I simply cannot do it myself.”

  He could do it himself though, Augum thought venomously, for he was an earth Warlock. Only he didn’t want to risk getting his hands dirty!

  Mr. Okeke retrieved a bottle of wine, readying to uncork it. “Surely one drink will not slow us swarthy men down?”

  Harvus’ gaze fell greedily upon the bottle. “No, I … I better not. Perhaps another time, Mr. Okeke. But a piece of chocolate would be nice, thank you very much.”

  Mr. Okeke’s face fell. His eyes met Augum’s and they briefly shared a look. He put the bottle away and found some chocolate, passing it around to everyone. Augum used the opportunity to stand near Leera, who still refused to meet his gaze.

  “So, uh, how is Haylee?”

  Bridget flashed Augum a strange warning look. It suddenly occurred to him Harvus might have threatened them, and he moved away from the girls, not waiting for a reply.

  They stood around eating chocolate in silence, the tension as thick as porridge. Mr. Harvus was the only one who seemed unconcerned, adjusting his hairpiece—now dry and properly combed—and glancing around the room. There certainly was no joking about that mop of fluff now. In fact, nothing about the man seemed remotely funny at the moment.

  “I have never really noticed these before, Mr. Okeke,” Harvus said, approaching the carved ebony figurines. “What are they, and why are they so … grotesquely malformed?”

  “Sierran nightmare carvings. When a Sierran has a nightmare, he is supposed to carve it into a figurine. He will then not have the nightmare again.”

  “How … superstitious and utterly barbaric, I must say.” Harvus turned. “And I mean no offense of course, Mr. Okeke, I am sure you yourself do not believe in such … peasant fancies.”

  Mr. Okeke’s ebony face flushed. “But are you not a believer in the gods, Mr. Harvus?”

  Harvus stiffened. “I am indeed, Mr. Okeke, but I hardly think believing in the gods is superstition. Such talk is considered heresy in Canterra, and is liable to result in the separation of one’s head from one’s body.”

  “But Canterrans consider warlocks heretics as well, do they not? Witches, in fact, if I am not mistaken.”

  The corner of Harvus’ mouth twitched.

  After an awful silence of the two men glaring at each other, Mr. Goss hoisted Leland with forced cheer. “Perhaps now would be a good time to build that cabin, would it not, everyone?”

  Harvus caught himself. “It would indeed, Mr. Goss. Come, children, put on your shoes, change into your robes, and help your mentor and your elders build a cabin for Augum and I.”

  The group gathered themselves and left, sharing fleeting looks.

  Discoveries

  They built the cabin on the other side of the stream. It had taken a lot longer because Harvus refused to use his arcane powers to help, except to fell some logs. He did not touch anything with his white gloves either, except his hairpiece of course. The trio and Jengo performed most of the labor using Telekinesis and saws Mr. Okeke had brought from his cabin. He and Mr. Goss did what they could, sawing and setting logs into place; even Leland helped, squishing mud between the cracks. It was a hard-won effort that took them past midnight, all to complete a crude one-room cabin with one shuttered window and one door.

  Throughout, Augum had not exchanged a single word with the girls, other than giving them instructions or asking for help. It was as if they were meek servants suddenly, too shy to reply. Even Mr. Goss noticed, once asking Leera if anything was the matter. She immediately said, “Nothing at all, Mr. Goss,” and hurried off to help Bridget.

  At the end of the night, they were tired, sweaty and muddy. Augum’s palm light had dulled with his exhaustion—all he wanted to do was go to bed.

  After the trio mutedly bid Mr. Okeke, Mr. Goss, Leland and Jengo goodnight, Harvus had them wash up in the stream. He then made them watch as he cast a protective spell on their cabins, as well as one more spell on Augum and Leera. Augum thought it another touch alarm spell, except this time it had to do with the cabins somehow.

  “Just in case you get any impure ideas,” Mr. Harvus said with a cold smile. “Now off to bed with you. I will be back soon.”

  Augum retreated to the empty cabin. He watched Harvus depart, taking the Orb of Orion and the Agonex with him. As soon as he was gone, Augum opened the door, finding Leera and Bridget already standing in the doorway of the other cabin across the stream. Both girls placed a finger to their lips. Bridget glanced to the hill and quickly scurried over.

  “Aug, we’re in serious trouble—” she began in a frightened whisper.

  “I know. Harvus took the Agonex and the Orb of Orion as hostage.”

  “That’s not the worst of it,” Bridget said. “I don’t think he’ll give them back even after he gets paid.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “He told us that if we don’t start behaving he’ll teleport both of us to a place no one will ever find us, and I believe him, Augum.” She swept her long cinnamon hair out of her eyes and sighed. “Leera misses you terribly.”

  Hearing that filled his heart with bittersweet joy. “Tell her I miss her too—” He reached out to his friend for comfort but she recoiled.

  “Better not, you know—”

  “Yes, of course.” He fidgeted. “I told Mr. Okeke about it all. He’ll tell Mr. Goss. Not sure what they can do though.”

  “Good.” She paused, glanced at the ground. “I’ve been a fool, Augum. I shouldn’t have been so trusting—”

  “Don’t even mention it.” He smiled.r />
  She swallowed, nodded, and returned a half-hearted smile. “Listen, I was thinking you need to focus tomorrow, really learn Summon Minor Elemental. The words to the spell are ‘summano elementus minimus’. Can you remember that?”

  “I think so. Sunnamo elementus niminus.”

  “No, you’re switching your n’s and m’s. Again—summano elementus minimus.”

  “Summano elementus minimus. And the spell name is Summon Minor Elemental.”

  “Good. Practice it just the way I said it—and make sure to hit the inflection on the last couple letters.”

  “Right. Still a mouthful.” He glanced back at the dark hilltop. “You better go, don’t want you to get in trouble too—oh, and Bridge, stay on his good side if you can. One of us has to.”

  “Good point. Good luck tomorrow,” and she ran back to Leera, who gave Augum a forlorn look.

  “Miss you,” Augum mouthed.

  “Miss you too,” Leera mouthed back, before disappearing inside.

  Soon the light in their cabin went dark and Augum was left alone again. He curled up on the floor and waited, reciting the name and words to the spell, being particularly sure to nail the inflection. Sometime later, Harvus returned with a cozy bedroll, a pillow, washbasin, and blankets, but none of them were for Augum. In fact, Harvus completely ignored him, which suited Augum just fine.

  * * *

  “Time to get up, young man,” Harvus said in the morning. “We have a long day ahead.”

  Augum had slept terribly on the floor. It had been a cold and damp night and he shivered through most of it. His brain was addled with tiredness, something he knew might affect his spell casting—if there was one thing being a warlock demanded, it was getting a good night’s sleep.

  Harvus knocked on the girls’ door while Augum washed up in the stream. At least it was a sunny day. Birds chirped merrily. A light wind stirred the treetops. The snow was almost completely gone, though the incessant drip of snowmelt continued on, mixing with the bubbling stream.

  Soon they were on their way to the Okeke home for breakfast, something Augum was actually looking forward to since Harvus never took breakfast with them, preferring to eat at the inn. Maybe they could come up with a plan together. But when they arrived at the Okeke cabin, Augum was disappointed to see Harvus invite himself in.

  Mr. Goss stood in greeting. “What a nice surprise, Mr. Harvus.”

  Augum exchanged a secret look with Bridget and Leera—that was the first time Mr. Goss had called Mr. Harvus by his proper title and not by his first name. Mr. Okeke had to have told Mr. Goss everything—but what were the two of them up to? They were smiling like a pair of conniving foxes.

  There was a mild look of surprise on Harvus’ face as he took off his boots.

  “How did you sleep, Mr. Harvus?” Mr. Goss pressed, offering a seat to the man. Augum noticed an extra bowl had been laid out on the table—they had obviously expected Harvus to join them.

  “Very well, thank you, Mr. Goss.” Harvus picked some dirt off one of his white gloves. “Though I much prefer the privacy and comfort of the inn, of course. However, sacrifices have to be made for the good of all.”

  “Indeed, for the good of all,” echoed Mr. Goss.

  Jengo took his place at the table, shooting Augum a confused and frightened look. He had obviously not been told anything. Knowing Jengo, that was probably for the best.

  Mr. Okeke poured Mr. Harvus a cup of steaming tea. “Any word from Mrs. Stone?”

  Harvus withdrew an embroidered cloth and placed it on the table. He unfolded it to reveal a golden engraved fork, knife and spoon. “I am afraid not, Mr. Okeke. I truly hope she is all right.” Though everything about his face said otherwise. He gave the already shining utensils a thorough polish.

  Mr. Okeke inclined his head. “As do we all.”

  Augum noticed something peculiar about the flatware—it was engraved with someone else’s initials. Maybe it was bought second hand?

  Jengo helped his father serve breakfast, which consisted of eggs, sausage, potatoes and oatcake.

  “Today is a special day,” Mr. Goss said. “A day banned by the Legion, but we are lucky to have a constable willing to look the other way.”

  “Lover’s Day is a peasant holiday advocating depravity and immorality, Mr. Goss,” Mr. Harvus said, carefully cutting up his sausage. “And the children and I shall not be participating in any of the events.”

  “That is most unfortunate, Mr. Harvus,” Mr. Goss replied cheerily, “because there is going to be a marvelous evening feast, with the finest wine. There will be a dance and games and singing and—” but when he saw the sour expression on Harvus’ face, he quickly changed tact. “Oh but during the day there will be butter cookies, tart cakes, and Canterran chocolate—”

  Mr. Harvus looked up. “Canterran chocolate, you say? I have not had the pleasure of—” He cleared his throat quickly. “Perhaps we can make a brief appearance, I suppose. If all precautions are taken, of course.”

  “Of course. The festivities begin at noon.”

  Augum stole a look at Leera—he had entirely forgotten it was Lover’s Day, and it made not being able to hold her hand that much more agonizing. By the look she was giving him, he guessed she was thinking the exact same thing.

  Harvus glanced up and they quickly looked away, but Augum knew he’d seen by his stupid micro frown. He cursed himself for being careless.

  “Are you going to see Priya and her mother later, Jengo?” Mr. Okeke asked after taking a sip of tea.

  Jengo’s eyes briefly darted to Harvus. “Y-yes, if it’s all right with you, Father.”

  “What kind of father would I be if I were to stand in the way of my own son, betrothed to such a beautiful young woman, on Lover’s Day? Of course it is all right. In fact, I encourage it. Go see Priya and make sure to tell her we look forward to sitting with her and her mother at tonight’s feast.”

  “Yes, Father.” Jengo took a nervous sip of tea before rushing through his food.

  One of Harvus’ brows rose knowingly and the briefest smug expression flashed across his pudgy face, before once again going blank. Augum had the impression Harvus might have something to say on the matter later.

  “Will Haylee be spending the day with Chaska?” Mr. Okeke pressed.

  Jengo paused, fork shaking in his hand. “I … I’m not sure, Father.”

  Of course they were spending it together, Augum thought. It’s just that poor Jengo didn’t want to draw Harvus’ wrath.

  “Do you have any children, Mr. Harvus?” Mr. Okeke asked.

  “I uh, I do not, no.”

  “Ah, that is most unfortunate, for children are the light of life.”

  “Yes, well, I have my duties, Mr. Okeke, and they suit me just fine.”

  “I see you do not wear a wedding ring. No wife either?”

  Harvus froze as if recalling something long past. Then he caught himself and cleared his throat properly. “When I was younger I … but that is long past, I was a sinner then.”

  Bridget gave a warm smile. “How young, Mr. Harvus?”

  “Too young, I am afraid. I was desperately poor and stupid. Now let us not discuss the matter, it is inappropriate for breakfast.”

  Mr. Okeke gathered a potato onto his fork. “Of course, Mr. Harvus, forgive us for our prying ways.”

  The tense meal concluded with honey-dipped almonds and milk, after which Augum, Bridget, Leera and Jengo quietly departed with Mr. Harvus to the cabins, where they resumed their training. Jengo, still working on his 1st degree, was made to study the blue book on arcaneology on his own. Augum now realized Harvus had always refused to give Jengo one-on-one training for one reason or another—even though that is what Mrs. Stone hired him for—and that’s why Jengo was so far behind.

  Augum was running through his spells as usual, slowly developing a minor headache, when Jengo called out.

  “Mr. Harvus, sir! I need some help explaining this part about hand gesture
s for the Repair spell.”

  Harvus, who had been busy critiquing the way Bridget was forming her hands with the Repair spell—a spell she had long mastered—turned to Jengo with a distasteful look. “Augum, would you please take a moment and instruct the poor soul? Mind you are not to touch the book as you have not earned that privilege back yet.”

  “Yes, Mr. Harvus.” Augum hated being so polite to him, but knew it was necessary for now. He strolled over to Jengo. “Which part do you need help with?”

  “This part.” Jengo slid over the book, tapping at a particular paragraph.

  “But this chapter’s on the 3rd degree, Jengo, you’re only on the—” Augum froze, suddenly realizing what Jengo was indicating—the counterspell to Object Alarm!

  “You’re a genius,” Augum whispered. “Think it’ll work against an off-the-book extension though?”

  Jengo stole a glance at Harvus before whispering, “I don’t see why not. The counterspell is an extension in itself.”

  “Right. Keep nodding your head while I read the section.” Augum pretended to point to a few things in the book for Jengo, who faked interest, while he absorbed every word as if his life depended on it.

  “ ‘The counterspell to Object Alarm is far more complex than the average apprentice suspects’,” Augum read under his breath, “ ‘for not only is it critical for the caster to arcanely reverse the spell in its entirety, but the hand motion must be reversed as well, with the caster placing his hands on the object and withdrawing them the moment the spell is triggered. The exact phraseology is equally as important and must be said in reverse, with a reverse inflection. Here below is the exact wordage—’ ”

  Jengo suddenly flipped the book to the chapter on the 1st degree as Harvus strode toward them.

  “How are things coming along, my apprentices?”

  “Excellent, Mr. Harvus. Augum is being very helpful.”

  “Good.” Harvus picked up a nearby branch using Telekinesis and floated it over. With a flick of both gloved hands, he snapped it in two, allowing the pieces to fall to the earth. “Please demonstrate the correct gesture for the Repair spell then, Jengo.”