by Sever Bronny
“I am sure you do, but we shall be seeing Senior Arcaneologist Ning first.”
“Why?”
Watts opened a portal as she adjusted her sharp spectacles. “You shall address me as Secretary Watts. I am certain I have earned the title. In you go.”
Augum rephrased the question. “Why must we see Senior Arcaneologist Ning, Secretary Watts?”
“Ask me again on the other side.”
The trio glanced at the two guards before hopping into the portal.
On the other side, Augum again asked the question. “You shall see,” was the infuriating response.
Watts led them down the hall, the two Legionnaires stumping along in the rear. Watts had a self-satisfied look on her face that worried Augum. He wondered if she had figured out what they were up to.
Watts stopped before the hulking oak doors that led to Senior Arcaneologist Ning’s chamber. She gestured idly at them but they refused to open. She swatted but they still refused to budge. “Oh for—” She strode up to a small gargoyle engraving. “Shyneo,” and placed her icily-lit palm on it. No sooner had she opened her mouth to speak when a voice barked, “Who is it!”
Watts, startled, clutched at her chest. “Dear me! You gave me quite the fright—”
“Stop wasting my time—” There was a fizzling sound.
“Yes, of course, Senior Arcaneologist Ning,” Watts replied in a sing-song voice. “May I please enter? There is a grave matter to be discussed immediately. Uh, hello? Senior Arcaneologist Ning? It’s Secretary Watts—”
Leera tried to keep a straight face as she made a tiny gesture at the etching. “I think you, uh, have to call her again.”
Watts flushed. “Hush, girl!” She cleared her throat loftily. Then cleared it again. She pressed her lit palm to the etching. “Secretary Watts here requesting—”
“WHAT!”
“Your Brilliance, we need to discuss—”
“Oh for the sake of the ancients, get in and stop sniveling.” The doors began to open before Ning even finished speaking.
Watts waved briskly at them to enter first. “Get in! Shoo! And keep quiet.” She and the soldiers followed on their heels.
Senior Arcaneologist Lien Ning was once again floating amongst her books in the vast chamber, enveloped in silence. “What is it now, Watts?”
“An urgent matter, Senior Arcaneologist Ning.”
The trio exchanged looks. She must know something that would get them into serious trouble.
The chair floated down, revealing the grotesquely malformed person sitting in it. Ning’s black eyes flicked to the trio before settling on Watts. “You dare waste my time again with nonsense.” The voice was arcanely projected, for Ning’s curled-back lips did not move.
Watts’ knife-thin brows came together as she made a face that Augum thought looked like feigned hurt. “I do believe I have uncovered a startling truth, Senior Arcaneologist Ning. I caught these three supposed necrophytes snooping. I questioned them on the matter and they told me they belonged to a Commander Sanyika Shaeek, who is supposedly in the field. Naturally, as a good and loyal citizen of the Legion, I took it upon myself to make inquiries. I wrote the Blackhaven Constabulary and they insisted there was no such active duty commander.”
“Indeed,” Senior Arcaneologist Ning said. “How peculiar, because as it so happens, I believe Secretary Klines received a parcel from Commander Sanyika Shaeek just this afternoon.”
Watts’ mouth fell open. “She … she did?”
“I have summoned her. She will be here momentarily.”
“Even so, I … I am certain these three here are the three we’re all looking for—Augum Stone, Bridget Burns, and Leera Jones. They are merely in disguise.”
The trio froze. Augum thought his chest would explode.
“I confess the image of the poster is not that close,” Watts prattled on, “but even their fake names! I dare say there is no way they could be necrophytes.” When Ning merely floated there, unimpressed, Watts blurted, “and I can prove it! Only an ordained necrophyte can possibly cast necromancy spells.”
There was a sigh from the floating chair. “I believe Feign Death is one of the first spells taught, am I not correct?”
“Yes, but they can’t possibly—”
“Miss Leigh Sparrows, please demonstrate a proper casting of the spell.”
Leera swallowed.
“Go ahead, do not be nervous, child.”
Leera lay on the ground and played dead. Augum could barely breathe. As expected, nothing happened. Suddenly, just as Secretary Watts’ stupid face exploded with a triumphant grin, Leera’s own face began to decompose. It was so real and frightful Augum had to avert his eyes.
Watts’ forehead shone with sweat. “But … but I was certain—”
Leera was soon up on her feet, confused. She mouthed at Augum, “Did it work—?”
He replied with the slightest of nods.
The doors silently opened and in clacked the tiny beetle-like Secretary Klines, carrying a parchment-wrapped parcel stamped with a burning sword and the written words From CSS.
“Ah, just the three I was looking for,” she said, handing the parcel over to Bridget. “This is for you, from Commander Sanyika Shaeek.”
“Impossible!” Watts said in her snippy voice. “Which company does he belong to?”
Klines glanced questioningly at Ning. “I am not at liberty to say.”
“What do you mean? I knew it! This is all a sham—”
“—because it’s a shadow company,” Klines blurted.
“A what now?”
“A shadow company. That means it’s a secret company under the direct command of Lord Sparkstone. Those who inquire about the company are to be reported and questioned.”
Watts nervously glanced at the Legion guards, who looked at each other.
“I … I did not realize—but I was so sure these were the three villainous traitors—”
Klines folded her hands before her. “This is the second time you have accused someone of being Augum Stone, is that not correct?”
Watts was stammering now. “That was a simple and unfortunate misunder—”
“A misunderstanding. You declared the boy to be Augum Stone and paraded him about the library, then to the constabulary. Except when they finally took him to the Lord of the Legion himself, it turned out to be some poor farm boy. The story even made the Herald. An embarrassment to the institution.”
“I … I …”
“You were ‘absolutely certain’ then too, were you not? Those were your exact words, is that not correct?”
Watts’ mouth opened and closed like a fish.
“I am afraid Lord Sparkstone will have to be informed immediately. He will be told exactly who is responsible, and I am sure his Lordship will not be as amused a second time.”
Watts went beet red. “That … that surely will not be necessary, Secretary Klines. Senior Arcaneologist Ning, have mercy, I see no reason to escalate a minor blunder—”
Augum enjoyed watching her squirm, and by the look on Leera’s face, so did she.
“Please, I’ll do anything.”
Senor Arcaneologist Ning stared from her chair. Watts shriveled under her expressionless gaze.
Klines took a step forward. “Very few souls have been entrusted with the information of the existence of shadow companies. Do you believe yourself worthy of this information?”
Watts’ thin brows bounced around as she struggled with the question. “N-no, I do not, I suppose.”
“Then, if we never hear an inquiry from you or these guards—I’m sorry, what were your names again?”
“Private Ribbons, m’lady,” stammered one in a commoner accent, snapping to attention. “Private Matthews, m’lady,” squeaked the other.
“As I was saying, if we never hear of an inquiry about shadow companies from any of the three of you, I do not see why a questioning would be necessary. It seems this was indeed but a minor mis
understanding.”
Watts and the two guards visibly relaxed.
Klines nodded at the guards. “You are dismissed.” They snapped to attention before hurrying out of the hall.
Ning’s chair floated closer. “If so much as a sneeze of this reaches the Herald and embarrasses this institution once again—”
“It w-won’t, Your Brilliance!”
Ning glared with her black gaze. “I know about the overcharging as well.”
“I … I …”
“Do you deny charging four silvers a head to out-of-towners when the entry fee is only one?”
Watts gave a toady swallow and shook her head.
“I am placing you on administrative leave. Consider yourself lucky not to be dismissed and put to the question.”
Watts curtsied awkwardly. “Very fair, Your Brilliance.”
“But I do have a task for you to complete in your absence.”
“A task?”
“A penance for your repeated indiscretions. You are to take a horse and deliver a message to the senior arcaneologist at the library in the city of Ironfeather.”
“But that’s … that’s so far! It’ll take me a month to—”
“Indeed. It is a trusted mission. And you have much trust to earn back, I dare say. See me in one hour and I shall give you the message. You will depart immediately. Am I understood?”
“Yes, of course, Senior Arcaneologist Ning. I shall not fail.”
“And Secretary Watts—I wouldn’t mention the shadow companies to anyone if I were you, not if you do not want to be made example of.”
“Y-yes, Your Brilliance.”
“You are dismissed.”
“Thank you, Senior Arcaneologist Ning.” Watts turned on her heel and quickly waddled through the open doors.
Explanations
Secretary Klines waved at the doors. Once they closed, she expelled a long breath. “We’re lucky she’s as daft as she is naive.”
“There’s no such thing as a shadow company, is there?” Augum asked.
Klines waved the matter aside. “Utter fiction. Came up with it on the fly. Wish the story was stronger, but there was little time.”
“How did you know about our fake commander?”
She calmly strode over. “Do not look so surprised. Senior Arcaneologist Ning is one of the few warlocks able to cast a rare off-the-books spell known as Telepathy. She gave me all the details of the accusations as she heard them. I came as quick as I could, labeling the box as I walked.”
“Pardon me, Senior Arcaneologist Ning,” Bridget said, “but how did you make Leera appear undead like that?”
“Genius has its privileges,” Ning replied. “But to answer your question, it was mere illusion.” She floated before Bridget. “The fear is gone from your eyes. You have conquered the cliff, I see.”
“I … I did, Senior Arcaneologist Ning.”
Her chair swiveled to Augum then Leera, but only a grunt was emitted. “You three have found what you were looking for, I presume? Good,” she said before they could reply to the contrary, “then we shan’t have any more trouble, shall we? I expect a quiet and hasty departure. You will, seeing as it will be unnecessary, not attend the tournament, of course. A most pointless and vain idea in the first place, entering a tournament to show one’s arcane prowess …”
Augum opened his mouth to say that that wasn’t why he had entered the tournament at all, and how they could use their help in the coming attempt to steal the divining rod, but instead found himself staring at the bottom of the chair as it floated up and away.
“Give Anna Stone my regards,” Ning’s voice rang out. “Dismissed.”
Klines followed them out of the chamber.
“Uh, Secretary Klines,” Augum began as she escorted them along in the hall, “if we get in a bit of trouble tomorrow—”
“—you won’t,” Klines said, coming to a halt, her giant spectacled eyes focusing on him. “We have taken great risks on your behalf. Do not disappoint us with careless traipsing. You will leave quietly, the sooner the better. Tonight would be best, but if you stay until morning, make sure it is in your quarters, and depart first thing.”
“Right …”
She strode into the portal room. “Be sure not to show anyone that package. It was extremely difficult to acquire. I even had to disenchant the powerful Object Track incantation placed upon it. They should not notice it missing until you are gone, by which time it will of course be too late to do anything.” She summoned a portal. “In you go, straight to your room, no dawdling. Goodbye and good luck.”
They meekly went through the portal. As with Ning, Klines’ brisk manner heavily discouraged rebuttal.
“Great, now what are we going to do?” Leera said as they traipsed along the lush carpet in the dimly-lit hall. “If we go through with it tomorrow, how are we going to get away safely without Klines’ and Ning’s help? Maybe we should just leave now—”
“No,” Augum replied. “We stay. We just need a good plan, that’s all.” A really good plan.
“We’ll have to give this serious thought,” Bridget said. “Though I can’t help but think we should have told them of our intentions.”
“What, so they could call us fools and stop us?” Leera said. “No thank you.”
They entered their room, nearly tripping over a giant pile of clothes.
Leera picked up a frilly dress. “You’ve got to be kidding me. These are all clothes those two stupid stowaways bought!”
“Never mind all this right now, we’ll talk to them later.” Bridget placed the parcel on the desk and unwrapped it, revealing a fine pine box intricately carved with the burning sword of the Legion, along with the words, Duty unto death. The number 005 was engraved into one of the corners. She opened the lid and they gasped in wonder. Fitted snugly into the wood were ten steel rings and a small steel orb. All were uniquely patterned with black swirls.
Bridget picked up a vellum parchment and began reading. “ ‘Congratulations, Commander Emmett Jordan’—”
“—that’s the gray-haired commander who gave that long speech in the Training Room,” Augum said. The hawk-eyed one who sat in front of them at the arena.
“ ‘Enclosed within is your very own Exot set. The communication orb, which you will refer to in the field as an Exot orb, is arcanely connected to ten rings, referred to as Exot rings. The Dreadnought-forged steel artifacts are the first of their kind and strategically invaluable. Your name is associated with this particular set. Do not under any circumstances allow it to fall into enemy hands.’ ”
Augum imagined the reaction of the ebony-skinned commander when he discovered his set had mysteriously gone missing. He wondered how Klines came to acquire it, and suddenly appreciated the risk she and Ning had taken on their behalf. No wonder they didn’t want more trouble from them …
Bridget read on, using a raised finger to accent the important parts. “ ‘Merely a night of sleep with the orb will tune you to its arcanery. Possessing the 5th degree is strongly suggested but not required to wield the Exot orb. The possessor of each Exot ring, however, must be 2nd degree at minimum. You will only hand out the rings to those necrophytes under your direct command. As with the old speaking orbs, in order to reach the recipient, the Exot ring or Exot orb bearer must think of the subject’s appearance and speak the word “contact”, followed by the recipient’s name. The possessor of the Exot ring or Exot orb will hear a voice inside their head and may reply verbally into the ring or orb. Contact may be ceased by either party with the words “cease contact”, or by removing the ring or letting go of the orb. Communication between rings is not possible. Distance may be a factor in voice clarity. As a secondary quality, the orb may be used to track the rings at a 7th degree Object Track proficiency.’ ”
Leera elbowed Augum. “Now this is a cool toy. Let’s try them on.”
“Excuse me, but this is not a toy.” Bridget gingerly withdrew three rings, handing Augum and Leer
a one each. “We’ll wear them after one of us tunes to the orb.”
“These are huge, no way are they going to—” but Leera’s brows arched after slipping hers on. “Neat, it’s sizing itself!”
Augum watched as his ring shrank to fit his finger. “Am I supposed to feel different though?”
Leera examined hers, wrinkling her nose at it. “Don’t think you’re supposed to feel anything.”
Augum gave his back to Bridget. “Which one of us should tune to the orb?”
“Let’s come up with a plan for tomorrow first.” Bridget took the ring from Leera, returned all three to the box, and closed the lid. She placed her hands on her hips. “So, what do we do about tomorrow if—”
“—when Augum beats Robin,” Leera corrected.
“Of course. When Augum beats Robin.”
Augum paced to the window to watch the arena grounds, its flags fluttering in the breeze. “We need to talk to Malaika and Charissa, hear what kind of guards are going to be posted, where the trophy ceremony is to take place, and whatever else they have to say about tomorrow.”
“If they follow through,” Leera muttered. “Anyway, we’ve got a few hours before we have to meet them in the Supper Hall.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Augum said, striding to the desk and fetching a scrap of parchment. “I’m supposed to send Caireen a note. She’s joining the Resistance and I want to give her one of the rings. We’re going to need all the help we can get tomorrow.”
“Good idea.” Bridget withdrew a ring from the box, tossing it to him.
He caught it, dipped a quill into an ink bottle, and wrote a quick note, saying: Put this on, it will come in handy. —A. He sprinkled some drying sand on the parchment and gently blew on the ink.
Bridget bit her lip. “Do you not think it’s a bit risky just … slipping that under her door?”
“She’s expecting a note and told me no one enters her room. She’ll be back from the healers soon anyway.” He placed the Exot ring into the parchment, folded it up, and stuck it in a pocket.
“I suppose.” Bridget nodded at the pine box. “We need to hide that until tomorrow.”
The trio glanced about the room, but there were precious few options.
