Legend (The Arinthian Line Book 5)

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Legend (The Arinthian Line Book 5) Page 23

by Sever Bronny


  “Leland!” Bridget shrieked, running to him. Behind her, the soldiers went still as statues. “Leland—!” but he was unresponsive.

  “He over-extended himself,” Augum said, crouching beside her.

  Bridget’s voice was full of panic. “We need to get Jengo—”

  “—I’m … fine,” Captain Leland said behind them in a slurred voice. “Just … need … practice.”

  “Leland Goss!” Bridget hissed, hands on his shoulders. “You are not to push yourself so hard! You need proper supervised training. If you don’t start taking this seriously immediately I am going to your father and telling him everything, and then you’ll be sure to be grounded for a tenday and the Agonex taken away from you!”

  “No, please … you don’t understand … I’m … alive … I … need to … do this. I … promise … to be … careful.”

  She jerked on the Agonex in his hands. “Then teleport them back. Now, Leland.”

  “Yes … Bridget.” There was a still silence then a sudden massive THWOMP, and all the soldiers were gone.

  Leland made a weak moan and Bridget gathered him close.

  “It’s all right, Little Lee, it’s all right …”

  Leland made a series of complex moans, then, perhaps realizing he couldn’t be understood properly, made a long frustrated moan. He pushed Bridget away and stomped off a few paces, one hand clutching the Agonex, the other waving before his body to insure he did not bump into anything.

  “It’s only for your own good,” Bridget said softly. “I made a promise to your father. But don’t worry, we’ll work on it together. Just … at a good and proper pace, that’s all.”

  Leland turned and made a questioning noise.

  “Yes, I promise. No one’s going to take the Agonex away from you. We’ll work together, you and I. All right?”

  “No wonder he’s been spending so much time with it,” Leera said to Augum as Bridget conversed with Leland. “I would too. He gets to be himself again, but even stronger. Sure, he’s a horribly grotesque undead monster inside that armor, but still …”

  “You do know this changes everything, right?” Augum said to her under his breath. “Think about it. He just teleported in thirty soldiers—” He snapped his fingers. “—like that. Think about that on a larger scale. Think about him teleporting in a hundred—”

  “—or all four hundred and twenty-two,” she whispered. “It’s good, but not nearly as good as we’d been hoping for.”

  Certainly not against his father, Augum thought. But great against the general army.

  “I’ll take Leland back so he can rest,” Bridget finally said. “Then I want to train you two on Cron.” She lifted Leland and held him close. “Try not to spend your entire time making out. Get some work done.”

  “Mother’s grumpy,” Leera said, watching her go.

  “Give her a break, she’s been stressed lately.”

  Leera stood in thoughtful silence a moment. “So … want to make out?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Ten Words, Ten Gestures, Ten Visuals

  “How’s it going?” Bridget later asked after returning from the castle, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

  Leera fanned her face with her hand. “Ugh, exhausted from all that casting.”

  “Pooped,” Augum chimed in, resting his hands on his knees and panting.

  “You two made out the whole time, didn’t you?”

  Augum jumped in a little too quickly. “Of course not, what makes you say that—?”

  “We’re not fiends, we wouldn’t do that—” Leera added.

  Bridget rolled her eyes at them.

  “What, it’s not like you and—” Leera made a twirling gesture with her hand. “—what’s-his-face wouldn’t be doing the same thing now that you’ve made up. Yeah, that’s right, I overheard how you’ve been whispering to him through the Exot ring.”

  “Lord Bowlander. Why can’t you remember his name? And no, we wouldn’t. He and I would be responsible.”

  “One, I have no idea why I can’t remember his name, two, I don’t believe you, and three, so you admit you have a deep crush on him and fantasize about kissing him?”

  Bridget reddened. “Let’s just focus, all right?”

  Leera smirked. “I bet you’ll be making out with him by tomorrow evening.”

  Bridget raised her nose at her. “No, we will not. Now can we please get to work?”

  And work they did, choosing a quiet spot closer to the mill. Bridget seemed more resolved than ever to get Augum and Leera to learn the ancient spell. Her confidence, too, seemed indomitable.

  “No, I told you, you’re mispronouncing it,” Bridget said to Leera later in the night. “The ‘x’ is near silent in this case. It sounds like zay. You’re saying gzay. Now both of you say the whole phrase with me again, I want to make sure you’re saying it correctly.”

  “Gennisi xanno aetate reversa tempus potam xaeternum veteri momentus mortem,” the trio slowly chorused with precision.

  Augum worried about the slowness of the spell. Combined with the gestures, it took about four heartbeats to complete the ritual. In order for it to be effective in combat, they’d have to whittle that down to a rapid two or three heartbeats, which would take a lot more practice.

  “Excellent. Just like with Centarro,” Bridget said.

  “The x’s are pronounced as z’s, got it,” Leera said, placing her hands on her waist as she glanced at Augum with disbelieving eyes. “And whoa, was that an actual compliment? Are we making progress here?”

  Bridget ignored her. “We’ve been practicing this spell for months with Mrs. Stone. You seem to know how to say it correctly, but there’s obviously something going awry in your thought process while you speak the phrase. Are you imagining the arcane river of time reversing during the word reversa?”

  “Yup. That part’s easy,” Leera said, nodding along with Augum.

  For the umpteenth time, Bridget quoted the golden book’s instructions from memory in a practiced yet solemn voice. “ ‘Betwixt thy birth to thy death thinketh ye that thy Fates have set thy course in stone, yet thou eyes shall mistake you not as thy time—thee sweetest river be she—reverses thus: always to never, never to always. But hark, oh weary traveler, for yonder count of but the barest breath of one, the shade shall enemy, the ether dagger, and every beat of thy heart maketh taut skin slack, thick bone thin, vibrance dull, hair gray. Hence, brave child, you shall tarry not, for all that is most precious may be lost in scarce nary a moment of neglect, and thou shalt return not young nor spry, not safe in body nor mind, for each beat of thy heart has thus aged thy song.’ ”

  “And by ‘song’ it means ‘life’, we know already,” Leera said. “Look, you can throw those gibberish quotes at us all you want, Bridge, I mean, it’s great that you can recite half the book from memory like an arcaneologist, but I’m near certain Aug and I have all that mental stuff down. There’s something else missing, that’s all, there has to be.”

  Augum was nodding along. “We get that it’s an incredibly complex spell, but we’ve been nailing every part of it—with the exception of the tiniest mispronunciations, something that happens even with successful castings. I agree, you obviously did something differently than us when you cast it right. Like you said, we’ve been practicing the nuances of this spell for months. I’m certain I got the correct visuals and gestures down because I can’t think of anything different to do even with your explanations. Heck, I think I know the gestures better than any other spell. Feels like I’m a mime in some play I can recite in my dreams, that’s how well I know it. I can do them backwards, forwards, in my sleep.”

  “In my sleep too,” Leera said, nodding.

  “Fine, then go over the visuals with me again.”

  Augum and Leera groaned.

  “Just do it. All right, as thou spake the word—”

  “—common, Bridge, speak common,” Leera said.

  “But you might lose ou
t on the nuance—”

  “Nuance can get stuffed. Keep it simple here.” Leera twirled a hand at her temple. “I isn’t so smart, hur, hur.”

  Augum playfully mimicked the same twirling gesture, complete with head bob.

  Bridget’s jaw clenched. “You two are driving me up the wall. Nuance is vital.” She sighed. “But all right, for clarity’s sake we’ll stick with common. Just remember that each visual must be precisely timed with each word and gesture. As you speak the first word, gennisi, you’re thinking—” and she gestured exasperatingly at them with both hands.

  “Birth,” they chorused lamely.

  “And you’re gesturing—”

  “Both hands coming together,” they said, making the gesture.

  “And birth visually translates to—”

  Augum and Leera exchanged a weary look.

  “Something being born, obviously,” Leera said.

  “Could be anything,” Augum added. “A baby. A plant. The sun.”

  “Right, fine, but iron that out, you shouldn’t be changing the visual. Didn’t I mention that before? Don’t you get it? It has to be fluid and perfect. Every. Time. You can’t change it with each casting, you’ll get killed.”

  Leera opened her mouth to start arguing but Augum raised a finger, frowning.

  “She’s right, we have been changing the visuals, haven’t we?” he said to Leera, searching her dark eyes. “I mean, it goes back to that time you and I made a joke about how if only we’d been born with perfect memories …”

  “Huh,” Leera said, biting her lip. “So we have …”

  “And I won’t mention how much of this process the two of you have turned into a joke,” Bridget flashed. “Or instead of studying like you should have, you’ve been sucking each other’s faces off—”

  Augum and Leera gaped at her.

  Bridget clasped both hands over her mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of that.”

  “You’re doing it again,” Leera said in caring tones. “You’re being snippy.”

  “Happens every time you don’t get much sleep,” Augum added.

  “Or when you’re really stressed—”

  “Or when you’re seriously concerned about someone—”

  “Like Mrs. Stone—”

  “Or when you might be seeing things—”

  “—all right, I get it!” Bridget rubbed her face while taking a deep breath. “I apologize. Sincerely. It’s just … I am worried about Mrs. Stone. And don’t forget, I watched you die, Lee. And Cron prevented that. It prevented it.” She carefully curled her cinnamon hair behind her ears. “Again, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. But let’s back up a moment here, how many of the other visuals have you been changing?” She glanced questioningly between the two of them.

  Leera shrugged. “For me, the only other one I’ve been messing with still is the word that means eternity—xaeternum.”

  “But you know the gesture, right?”

  “Yes, it’s a flat hand going off into the horizon.” Leera’s face lit up. “Ooh, that’s it! I’ll think of eternity as the horizon!”

  “Brilliant,” Augum said. “Going to use that one too. As for me, I’ve been changing the visual that goes with the word tempus every few castings.”

  “So you need a visual for the concept of time,” Bridget said, tapping her lips in thought. “What have you got so far?”

  “Well, for some stupid reason the gesture is a fist to the heart followed immediately by quickly opening the hand explosion-like, so I’ve been visualizing time as exploding backwards temporarily, then forwards but staying the same—”

  Leera scrubbed that thought with a dismissive wave of the hand. “No, no, no, you’re complicating it, just use the obvious.”

  Augum blinked. “Which is—?”

  “Seriously?” Leera raised sharp brows at him expectantly. “Come on, they used one at the arena.” When he still didn’t get it, she said, “Hourglass, Aug, hourglass. And picture the sand going back up the glass.”

  “Oh, yeah, that is kind of obvious, I guess.” He tapped a fist to the heart, said “Tempus,” and quickly exploded his fingers while visualizing an hourglass complete with sand particles trickling in reverse. He practiced the move a bunch more times and nodded. “Yeah, that works. Way easier.” Though putting it all together was the tough part.

  “Good,” Bridget said. “Any others you two have been changing?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Ten words, ten gestures, ten visuals. All must be synchronized perfectly. Now let’s practice some more.”

  The trio lined up like they would with Mrs. Stone and began the dance, for that is what it looked like to an outsider—the gestures combined with the wording was so choreographed it appeared like they were readying a performance. But they did it slowly. In reality, during a life and death fight, they’d have to snap the spell off, something next to impossible at their current level of understanding and practice.

  A cool wind had begun to sway the trees, owls began hooting, and wolves bayed distantly, yet the trio practiced on. It was going to be another late night, but Augum didn’t want to quit, mostly for Bridget’s sake. She was absolutely determined on mastering Annocronomus Tempusari. He pushed Leera, who had begun groaning a little about being tired, to keep going. It was Mrs. Stone’s method of training. The path of struggle, hard work, discipline, pain. It’s what set them apart from the students at the school. While one of them may have spent, say, a hundred hours on a spell, the trio would have spent a thousand. And the results spoke for themselves.

  “Are you ready to try the spell for real?” Bridget asked Augum, obviously discounting Leera, who stood with sleepy eyes.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “All right, remember, no more than a few heartbeats. I’ll mimic it with you without investing any arcane energy into it. Take a moment.”

  Augum took a few deep breaths, readying his mental faculties, preparing the visuals.

  Bridget’s brows furrowed. “On three. One …. two … three!” and they spoke the words together while making the gestures and imagining the visuals. “Gennisi xanno aetate reversa tempus potam xaeternum veteri momentus mortem.”

  For Augum, who was giving it all his concentration and effort, the world instantly slowed … and began reversing! But the effect was bizarre to witness—Bridget’s mouth began moving backward, as did her words, although muted. Leera stood motionless as before, but swaying slightly in reverse. Colors became bright and sharp. Everything was stiff as iron, even the blades of grass beneath his feet, yet he himself was soft and free to move about. And there was a rabid electric torrent that he could feel flowing through everything, resisting him, puncturing his very soul. It kind of felt like a thousand tiny needles pricking his insides, his very being, his mind, his core.

  It was the river of time flowing through the arcane ether, and it was trying to scramble his thoughts. He couldn’t shake a cold feeling that a demon’s claws were scraping at his brain. There were odd and dark variations in everything around him. Shadows were longer and seemed to move. Trees were staring at him threateningly. They looked overbearing, as if readying to swallow him whole. The grass beneath his feet was a series of infinite swords trying to stab his feet. Everything seemed like it wanted to murder him. It reminded him of the Fear spell.

  But the strangest thing was seeing his old self. There was a ghostly version of Augum slowly doing things backwards—reciting the spell, doing the gestures, mouthing the words. The sounds were low and long, stretched and difficult to make out. He himself could step around this ghost, watch him, but not interact.

  Oh no, while marveling at the sheer beauty of the spell, he’d forgotten to count his heartbeats! He instantly made the pull gesture, visualizing the world returning to normal, while shouting “STOP!” It was a word that could be said in the common tongue, for all that mattered was the intent.

  The river of time ceased piercing him, causing
him to fall to his knees.

  Leera yelped in surprise. “What the—did you just teleport?”

  Bridget was glancing between the spot Augum had been standing in and the spot he was in now—just behind the girls—and smiled. “He cast it. He must have done it after completing the spell incantations. Eeee—” she squealed, running over and tackling Augum happily. “You did it! I can’t believe you did it! YES, YES, YES, YES!”

  Leera came over, the serious one for a change. “Wait, let’s see the effects. Shyneo.” She examined Augum’s face closely with her lit palm. “How many heartbeats?”

  Augum rubbed his eyes, feeling a little groggy. “Uh … not sure.”

  The girls froze.

  “What do you mean, ‘not sure’?” Leera asked, giving his hands a shake. “Aug, how many heartbeats!”

  “I don’t know, lost track. Maybe … fifteenish?”

  “Ish? ISH?” Leera gave Bridget a frantic look while still clutching his hands. “How’s that going to affect him? Bridge? How’s that going to affect him?”

  It scared him how frantic she sounded.

  Bridget was also inspecting his face seriously, her palm lit as well. “I don’t see any differences, so it couldn’t have been too long. I remember it going very slowly for me, with lots of time to react and stuff. The heart beats slower than one thinks, because I was counting, and it was weirdly slow. Fifteen is how many I had, which is only a month of aging for the body. I think he’ll be fine.”

  While the girls discussed the implications and examined him, Augum’s mind was back in the spell. Now he saw how it worked, now he knew its true power.

  “You have to nail it,” he said to Leera, cutting her off. “Tomorrow. I’ll work with you. We both will.”

  “It’s not enough for you two to know it?”

  “Definitely not. You’ll understand when you cast it.” But there were dangers too, that much was plain. He had felt them inside the spell. The murderous feeling that he couldn’t quite shake.

  He quickly explained everything he could, everything he saw and felt.

  After a thorough discussion, “Let’s hit the sack,” Bridget finally said, helping Augum and Leera stand. “I think we did enough for the night.”

 

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