Legend (The Arinthian Line Book 5)

by Sever Bronny

  Mrs. Stone splayed her hand over the culprit stone. The corner of her mouth curved in the tiniest smile before she pressed on, not saying a single word.

  The girls both silently pumped their fists. They needed a victory and Augum had just achieved a big one.

  Leera withdrew a cloth from within her robe and swabbed Augum’s nose with it. While Mrs. Stone’s back was turned, she stealthily gave him a kiss on the lips, whispering, “Good work.” Needless to say, a warm glow had settled into his cheeks.

  They followed Mrs. Stone’s steps carefully, ever watchful, ever quiet. Who knew how many traps lay about. Who knew what innocent-looking objects could bring the entire army down upon them.

  The successful casting of Disenchant, only the second for the trio, reinvigorated them, and they became alert, eager to continue making amends.

  “My turn next,” Leera whispered with a wink, reminding Augum of when they traded spell casting with Bridget while exploring Castle Arinthian for the first time.

  “You’re darn right it is. Can’t wait for you to succeed.” He pecked her on the cheek as she quietly squealed in delight. Then he had to let her go—last thing they needed was another disapproving word from Mrs. Stone.

  As they neared the ornate castle doors, Mrs. Stone stopped and stepped aside, gesturing for the trio to proceed while she looked expectantly on.

  Leera seemed like she was going to go first, only to hesitate at the last moment. Bridget rested a hand on her shoulder and nodded for her to step aside. When she did, Bridget carefully opened her palm, swallowed, and evoked, “Un vun asperio aurum enchantus,” the Reveal incantation.

  Augum and Leera, bolstered by her boldness, echoed the phrase and followed close behind, each with their own outstretched hands in search of the telltale signs that an enchantment was present.

  Just as they came up to the hulking doors, Bridget froze, fingers spread wide, hand trembling. That hand traveled around the iron bolt mechanism, settling over the handle. She nodded at it, mouthing, “Trap.”

  Augum raised his brows at Leera, basically asking, Do you want to try? Leera was breathing quickly. She swallowed and shook her head, mouthing, “Not ready. Next time.” Augum and Leera turned their attention to Bridget, who gave a single determined nod.

  Bridget readied for Disenchant, the same difficult incantation Augum had just cast—except she was suffering from a terrible hangover, had slept even worse, and had vomited up her breakfast. She finished taking a series of deep breaths before opening her eyes, brows furrowed ever slightly.

  Augum and Leera held their breath while Mrs. Stone monitored nearby.

  “Exotus mia enchantus duo dai ideum exat.”

  Solid, precise cast, Augum thought. He watched every nuance of her fingers as they wove the air, peeling back invisible layer after layer. Her nose began to bleed much quicker than his though, and her face quickly lost its color. Drops of sweat, already formed on her brow, trickled down to her chin, where they clung along with the blood, wavering, as she trembled more and more. Yet the look of iron determination never left her face.

  Finally, just as Augum feared she would pass out and thus trigger the spell, she suddenly withdrew both hands as there was a tiny sucking sound. A smile played across her lips before her eyes abruptly rolled back in her head and she collapsed—right into Augum’s waiting arms. He laid her down gently while Leera attended to her nose with a cloth. Augum grabbed his own cloth and soaked it with the waterskin, quickly placing it on her forehead.

  A frail old hand drew near the lock, but Augum already knew she had succeeded. Mrs. Stone’s single nod only confirmed it.

  “You did it, Bridge,” Leera whispered. “You did it …”

  Castle Arinthian

  Augum felt a bittersweet pang upon once again stepping into the castle’s entranceway vestibule, with its high vaulted ceiling, empty stone pedestals, and faded murals. For a moment, the foursome allowed the quiet stone peace of the ancient castle wash over them, its coolness a balm from the arid outdoor heat.

  “Never thought I’d see this place again,” Leera whispered, neck craned as she clutched Augum’s hand.

  For Augum, he felt as if a part of him had been restored. It was an unexpected feeling, this connection to his ancestor’s home. And to be holding Leera’s hand … with Bridget by their side … and Nana alive and with them … it was all too much to believe. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying not to get overwhelmed by the emotions bubbling in him like the foam on white-water rapids.

  Leera elbowed him, whispering, “What’s that secret smile about?”

  “Nothing, just … imagining this place filled with life.”

  After a moment of contemplation, Leera also smiled. The thought seemed to be infectious because Bridget smiled as well, and miraculously, so did Mrs. Stone. Augum sensed something nostalgic in her brief smile, as if she had always wanted to see the ancient ancestral home returned to its former glory.

  Mrs. Stone’s grave expression quickly returned as she nodded expectantly at the grand oaken inner doors.

  Augum readied his arm to cast Reveal, only to have it grabbed by Leera.

  “My turn.” She cracked her knuckles, took a few deep breaths, and closed her eyes. After a silent moment of concentration, she splayed a hand before the doors. “Un vun asperio aurum enchantus.” Her eyes shot open then narrowed. She took a bold step closer to the doors, studied the bronze handles carefully, and dropped her arm. “Enchanted with Object Alarm.”

  “Congratulations on your first Reveal cast,” Bridget whispered.

  Augum patted Leera’s back. The thought of a restored castle must have bolstered her spirits.

  Leera inclined her head in acknowledgment. She raised her sleeves, allowing four bright watery rings to flare around her arm. “Attempting Disenchant.”

  Augum and Bridget exchanged looks. Leera had yet to successfully cast the 10th degree spell. And should she fail …

  For a short time she stared the doors down as if they were an enemy in the arena. Then she raised a hand that wavered only slightly. “Exotus mia enchantus duo dai ideum exat.”

  Augum flashed Bridget an excited look. The pronunciation was perfect, and she had great poise. Would this be her first successful casting?

  Her hands began to strip away each invisible layer of the enchantment. Augum readied his cloth. As expected, Leera’s nose began dripping blood. Beads of sweat formed on her brow and her body started to shake. Soon she was as pale as Bridget. Augum braced to catch her, just in case.

  She abruptly withdrew her hands as there came a quiet sucking sound, then giggled to herself victoriously. He gave her a gentle hug, whispering, “Proud of you,” and dabbed her nose.

  Bridget squeezed her shoulder. “Way to go, Lee.”

  Mrs. Stone passed a hand over the doors before surrendering a slight nod, indicating a successful casting of Disenchant.

  Augum pushed on the doors and they swung inward with a creak that seemed to echo through the great castle. Beyond was the grand foyer with its checkered marble flooring and magnificent central marble staircase flanked by two smaller curving staircases. For a moment on those steps he saw his ancestor Atrius Arinthian surrounded by a loving family, as depicted in an old tapestry they had seen in the Library of Antioc.

  Pale dusty sunlight filtered in from up high. There was a particular scent in the air, an all-too familiar stench of death and decay, of old rot and suffering. However, it had not been there before, at least not in the foyer …

  “Now comes the tricky part,” Mrs. Stone whispered. “I challenge you to use your acumen. What lies in wait for us here?”

  Leera winced, whispering, “Ghosts?”

  Mrs. Stone gave a terse shake of her head, cloudy eyes travelling to Bridget and Leera.

  “Walkers,” Augum blurted quietly, remembering movement in one of the windows.

  “Bridget?” Mrs. Stone said.

  Bridget took a moment to think, but she couldn’t s
eem to concentrate, placing a hand on her head before shaking it. She was too tired. They were all exhausted, yet simply had to stay sharp.

  “Then you shall discover soon enough.” Mrs. Stone gestured for them to enter whilst suppressing a cough. For a moment she seemed to waver where she stood. Just as Augum was about to offer assistance, she raised a staying hand, then flicked two impatient fingers indicating he need not concern himself with her. He hesitated but did as she asked, worrying nonetheless.

  Suddenly Bridget hurriedly withdrew her Exot orb, drawing it to her lips. “Yes, I hear you—” A pause. “What? More undead? How many? Haylee? How many—? Contact Haylee Tennyson. Say again, Haylee—” but there seemed to be no response. She blanched as she slowly turned to Mrs. Stone.

  Mrs. Stone’s eyes flared. “You will stay here and disarm as many traps as you can find. I need not remind you to be extremely careful. I shall return as soon as I am able.”

  Leera reached out, “Mrs. Stone, wait—” but there was a mighty THWOMP and she was gone.

  “What’s going on?” Augum asked Bridget.

  “Another undead attack. Seems fiercer than yesterday. Can’t get through to Haylee. She and Chaska are defending, I think. I’ll try again soon.”

  Leera punched the air. “Ugh, wish we were there right now.”

  “Mrs. Stone obviously thinks this is just as important, else she would have taken us back with her—”

  “—shh!” Augum said, jutting out an arm. There was a shuffle upstairs that had started the moment Mrs. Stone’s teleportation sound reverberated through the castle. A shadow, highlighted by the distant sun, passed far above, a shadow that quickly began making its way down. There was a scraping sound that accompanied it.

  “What … what is that?” Leera asked, taking a step back.

  Another sound joined the first, this time from behind the right set of doors that led to the servants’ quarters, kitchens … and crypts.

  Leera seemed to be thinking the same thing as Augum because she suddenly grabbed his sleeve, eyes saucer wide. “Gods … what if Sparkstone raised the crypts?”

  Augum’s mouth went dry.

  “Get ready to defend yourselves!” Bridget cried, now facing the doors on the left. “Sounds like we’re surrounded.”

  “Backs to each other!” Augum said. The girls flanked him, each facing one set of side foyer doors, while he turned his attention on the steps, watching the shadow rapidly approach.

  But what came down the stairs made the hairs on the back of Augum’s neck stand on end. Flat, dead eyes he would never forget stared at him from the top of the landing—except now they were demon black. The face and body were charred, but it was the mustache that gave the being away for who it once was.

  “The Nightsword …” Augum croaked.

  “Gods, he’s a revenant or something,” Leera said just as both sets of side doors flew open. “It’s a Brack brother!” She shouted, slamming her wrists together. “ANNIHILO!”

  “And I have the other here!” Bridget added. “Burning swords! They’re reavers! ANNIHILO!”

  But Augum was focused on one thing … the slow and steady forward creep of the Nightsword, who looked at him with malevolent predatory eyes. He dragged a long steel sword that clanked on every step. There was an almost playful smile on his curled-back skeletal lips. Maggots crawled through his flesh, maggots that would regenerate him if injured.

  The Nightsword growled as he lowered himself … only to spring from the stairs, arcing his blade in a vicious death blow.

  All of Augum’s training instantly kicked in, slicing through his sleep deprivation. The first combo was already on the tip of his tongue. He violently shoved at the air, screaming, “BAKA!” followed by a yanking wrist twirl and the word, “DISABLO!”

  The Nightsword was slammed into the stairs while his sword flew free of his grip, clanking and sliding down the steps to the foyer floor.

  But Augum wasn’t finished. He slammed his wrists together, “ANNIHILO!” flashing a massive bolt of lightning straight into the Nightsword’s chest, blowing a hole through the rusted armor and the rotten flesh beneath. The revenant quivered from the blow and released a raspy gasp.

  Augum checked over his shoulders, but Bridget and Leera, despite being in rough shape from the night before, were holding their own against the reavers. When he turned his attention back to the Nightsword, he saw the maggots were already working on the chest wound. The undead Sir Jayson Quick slowly stood, glaring at Augum with devilish black eyes.

  Augum wondered if, like the Blade of Sorrows, the Nightsword had kept his intelligence and wherewithal after being turned into a revenant. “Can you speak?” he asked. “Do you know what you are?”

  The Nightsword raised his black chin … and charged.

  Augum was ready. “Summano arma!” summoning a lightning long sword into his fist. Almost simultaneously, he summoned his black lightning shield onto his permanently crooked left arm.

  Perhaps at one time in his life he would have cowered before a revenant, a being summoned by ancient and powerful necromancy, but now, after numerous triumphs over walkers and wraiths as well as his arena victory against Robin Scarson, he felt he was more than its match. He charged, shouting a war cry.

  The first sword blow sliced off the creature’s right arm, which was aiming a deadly punch at his head. He raised his shield in time to block a vicious blow from the creature’s left arm—before promptly slicing that one off too. For a moment the Nightsword sprang back in a sort of confused corpse dance, as if stunned by the spry attack from Augum. The only recourse left for this otherwise vicious undead beast was, almost comically, kick attacks … and that’s exactly what he proceeded to do.

  Due to Augum’s lack of sleep, his sword and shield timed out quicker than he would have liked. Luckily, he didn’t really need them. He evaded the first kick with a backward right step and shoulder dodge, then repeated the movement with his left side, before yanking telekinetically on the Nightsword’s off-balance foot, flipping him backward and slamming his skull into the floor.

  “Now you’re just showing off,” Leera said, watching nearby with folded arms. She and Bridget had already defeated the reavers.

  Augum nodded at the two severed arms. “Look at that, they’re trying to get back to the body.” For a moment they watched as the hands feebly clawed back to the Nightsword, who ignored the trio while he calmly picked one arm up, re-attaching it to his shoulder.

  Leera made a disgusted face. “Ugh. Finish it already.”

  As much as Augum wanted to study the revenant further, it would be better to vanquish him just in case anything else came. He ignored the pounding arcane headache that had formed and slammed his wrists together.

  “ANNIHILO!”

  The Nightsword’s head exploded from a vicious blast of lightning that rent the air. The body fell to the floor with a thud, forever dead and still. He knew it had been a particularly powerful cast because the air tasted like tangy burnt copper from the lightning.

  Bridget tapped under her nose.

  “Oh.” Augum withdrew his cloth and dabbed. He hadn’t even noticed his nose had been bleeding. Maybe that’s what he had tasted. He had been pushing his arcanery all morning, on top of his lack of sleep, but he felt battle hardened and didn’t care if he bled. As long as he kept his wits and they were all safe.

  “Your chronocasting is improving,” Bridget said, referring to his ability to keep one spell up while casting another.

  “So is that killer archery of yours. I saw that shove followed by a headshot.”

  Leera pointed at herself. “And this one here, she did a flying leap kick without Centarro.” Her head bobbed. “Uh-huh, that’s right. Fluffy princess I am not.” She made a series of air chops that forced Augum to dodge. He dove in and managed to grab her, drawing her into a hug.

  “Let go, this warrior queen wants to kick butt!”

  He kissed her cheek instead.

  “Cut it out,
you two, now is not the time to joke about,” Bridget said, running a hand through her limp hair while glancing around. “Have to stay alert.”

  She was right, there were too many serious things going on for them to be indulging in fun, especially after their behavior last night. “Check on Haylee,” Augum said, playfully shoving Leera away before she smacked him again.

  Bridget withdrew the Exot orb from her robe and brought it to her lips. “Contact Haylee Tennyson. Haylee, are you all right? What’s the news? What? I can’t … I can’t hear you, speak up. Haylee …?” She listened, but then shook her head. “Lost contact. They’re in a fight, all right.”

  Leera blew strands of hair from her face. “Shoot.”

  “We just have to trust Mrs. Stone in defending the town,” Augum said. “It’s not the Legion though, is it?”

  “Don’t think so,” Bridget replied, sighing. “Let’s remove the corpses then break for lunch. We have a lot to talk about.”

  They telekinetically deposited the corpses a ways in the woods before returning to settle on the landing between the first and second floor, just underneath the massive burnt tapestry, no longer recognizable as to what or whom it portrayed. Leera tore pieces of bread and handed them out, then distributed dried apple slices, some hard cheese, and thin salted dried beef.

  Although they indeed had a lot to talk about, at first the trio said nothing, comfortable enough with each other to sit in silence. They paid attention to the quiet castle, listening for further intruders, watching as the dust-filled sunbeams lazily shifted across the checkered floor.

  “So, uh, what happened last night?” Leera finally asked.

  Bridget groaned while rubbing her face with the heels of her palm. “I don’t believe I did that … I got drunk. And everybody saw.”

  “But you had fun with a certain someone, didn’t you?” Leera said with a wink.

  Augum recoiled. “What? Don’t you remember what happened at the end of the night?”

  The girls gave him blank, tired looks.

  “Please tell me that you remember the … the …” Augum made feeble gestures with his hands but was suddenly finding it difficult to explain.