by Sever Bronny
We sing this song of the Academy
With hearts both proud and strong
Remembering those that came before us
Those who died for a sacred song
Yet here we stand brave and unified
Striving for knowledge and degree
Oh warlock may you never tire
May you stand tall, proud and free
For our traditions are rich and long
Full of sacrifice, wisdom and courage
And arcane secrets we shall pass on
To those deserving, those who belong
May the academy stand for thousands
Thousands of years beyond
May they listen to the mighty echo
Of our glorious and beloved song
Feast, Song, Drama
After the emotional rendition of the academy anthem, the festivities began in full bloom. Village musicians joined Mr. Fungal on the platform. Surprisingly, that included Mr. Okeke, who thrummed a Sierran ebony instrument in the shape of a giant leaf, one he had saved from Milham. All were invited to play games and enjoy the feast tables at their leisure. There was dancing and the promise of a traditional celebratory fire later. The pine branch garlands, being terribly itchy, were promptly disposed of or “forgotten” on tables.
After many congratulatory hugs, handshakes and well wishes, Bridget did her usual check with Caireen Lavo in Antioc, who was unable to attend because of duties on behalf of the Resistance.
“Anything new?” Leera asked her as she grabbed Augum’s hands to dance a spritely tune.
“More undead attacks,” Bridget replied with a sigh. “They’re spilling into the streets. The Legion are supposedly dealing with it, but there’s a lot of chaos in the meantime.”
Leera spun herself around under Augum’s hand in time to the music. “Reminds me of your birthday.”
Bridget’s brows furrowed uncomprehendingly. “The dancing?”
“The chaos.”
“Ha!”
Augum had to chortle, for Bridget’s party had indeed been rather chaotic. She had requested an evening of dancing, which ended up drawing all of Milham. The trio had to eventually flee their own party as the miners got drunk on discounted ale courtesy of Huan the Innkeeper. For her present, they got her a fine Canterran peacock quill and crystal inkwell, which she had promptly accidentally smashed (and repaired with crimson cheeks while Augum and Leera howled with laughter).
Academy robes swung and twirled to lively music. Haylee danced with a decidedly uncomfortable Chaska, Jengo with a tired Priya (she had been looking after her mother while juggling the responsibilities of being Head Cook), and most of the students paired off together—mousy Garryk and equally mousy Kiwi, both red-faced; smiling ebony-skinned and dreadlocked Alyssa with red-haired, freckled, and constantly joking Isaac; always serious-looking Sasha and equally always serious-looking Bogdan; a graceful Elizabeth with beefy Olaf. Prim and proper Mary ended up meekly asking a surprised Devon if he would join her. He stutteringly obliged, as red faced as Garryk and Kiwi. Laudine bypassed a sullen Cry to politely ask Mr. Goss if Leland would take her hand in a dance. This warmed everyone’s hearts, and there was much clapping and whistling as she spun him about.
For his part, Augum could barely keep up with Leera, who was a surprisingly graceful dancer. He would have called her style “cool” even.
“May I have this dance, Princess?” Augum heard Brandon say to Bridget. She snickered at his elaborate bow, which so obviously did not suit his manner.
“If I must.”
Augum glanced around, expecting Bowlander to be nearby. Sure enough, the seventeen-year-old hovered like a ghost at the feast table, chatting with Malaika and Charissa, both wearing elaborate colorful dresses. Yet his eyes flicked to Bridget at every opportunity.
“You know,” Leera huffed while yanking on Augum’s arm and thrusting him across her so suddenly he almost tripped, “I do think Bridget’s enjoying playing those two off each other.”
“Think so?” he asked, concentrating on his feet. “Doesn’t seem like her.”
“You’d be surprised what people do when affections are thrown their way.”
“Would it be wrong of me to root for one over the other?” he whispered.
“Why, Augum Stone, yes it would!” Leera said with a scolding look. Then she giggled. “Though I think I know who you favor.”
Before the song even ended, Lord Bowlander was by Bridget’s side. “May I have the next dance, Princess Bridget?”
“Of course, Lord Bowlander,” Bridget replied, cheeks brightening.
Brandon pursed his lips at Bowlander but nodded politely at Bridget. “Princess Bridget. It was a real pleasure. Please save another for me later.”
“I will, Mr. Summers,” she replied with a wry grin.
Brandon winced. He hated being called by his father’s title, and she seemed to know it.
“She’s teasing him,” Leera said to Augum in a whisper, seemingly enjoying the show. “Our Bridgey-poo might have a real boyfriend soon.”
Some dance partners switched for the next song, the dreamy Lover’s Lure, while others remained. Brandon stepped away to snag a snack at the table and joke around with Olaf, while Lord Bowlander took his place with Bridget. The pair was cordial, though Augum noticed Malaika and Charissa glaring their way.
“What’s going on with those two?” Leera whispered, arms hooked around Augum’s neck as he tenderly held her close.
“I’m trying to figure that out.”
“Those scheming hyenas are up to something.”
He nodded absently. But what?
After the song, Elizabeth boldly approached Augum and Leera. “Can I steal him from you, Jones?”
Augum could tell Leera did not appreciate being called “Jones” by someone she barely knew. Nonetheless, she shrugged and said, “You may, I need a snack anyway.”
Thankfully, the song, titled Sands of Sierra, was a tepid affair and he didn’t have to hold Elizabeth close, only her waist. She had the gentle aroma of vanilla. Her royal blue academy robe was accented by a lavender scarf. She batted her long eyelashes at Augum and pretended to get caught looking at him. But Augum had played these kinds of stupid games with Malaika and was leery. No, these games didn’t interest him whatsoever. What did interest him is what she asked him.
“Summers is a fool, but he’s got a good heart. Think he stands much of a chance with Bridget?”
Augum glanced at Bridget, who was chatting amiably with Brandon at the moment, laughing at a joke of his.
“Of course he does,” he replied, refraining from telling her he hoped Brandon would win over Bowlander, who was wearing the same sullen expression as Cry Slimwealth.
“Will you show me around the castle after, Prince Augum?”
“Can’t, sorry,” he replied a little too quickly. She was looking at him expecting an excuse. For simplicity’s sake, he blurted out a lie. “Uh, I have to do something with Leera and Bridget.”
Elizabeth glanced over at Leera, who was idly watching them while gnawing on a chicken leg. “Indeed,” she only said.
The song couldn’t end quick enough.
“Hey, want to twirl, Princeling?” Alyssa asked with a lopsided grin as she finished practically shoving a surprised Bogdan away. He grunted his disapproval before marching off, apparently missing the joke.
Augum smiled as he gave a polite bow to a seemingly disappointed Elizabeth. “Forget it, Alyssa, I’m stuffing my face.”
Alyssa laughed. She was another one of those students he hoped he, Bridget and Leera would befriend. She seemed fun, non-judgmental, kind, rambunctious, and interesting, without being snooty, or “having airs” as he heard the highborn say often.
The servants served refreshments on silver Haroun platters, much to the chagrin of Mrs. Haroun, who took every opportunity in letting all servants know she was Housekeeper of Castle Arinthian and they were to do as she said. But she also had a sharp thing or
two to say to Huan the Innkeeper, who kept drinking, despondent at losing his tavern.
Leera arched a brow at Augum as he joined her. “Have fun with her?”
He scoffed. “As much fun as being branded.”
Leera’s head bobbed in a self-satisfied way that looked cute to him. “Heh, look at that.” She nodded near the platform where Mrs. Hawthorne was dancing with Mr. Goss. She was holding her beehive bun while he held his spectacles, and both were making awkward hip twists while their knees gyrated in opposite directions.
“What is that?” Alyssa said, joining them at the table and leaning back with arms crossed.
Leera idly waved the bone of the chicken leg she had finished. “I’m going to dub that ‘the corkscrew’.”
Alyssa snorted a laugh so hard she had to stuff her face in the crook of her elbow. “Oh, dear, excuse me,” she said, teary-eyed.
“Having fun, kiddies?” asked a quick and jovial voice.
They turned to see a grinning Jezebel Terse standing with the frowning beetle-like Secretary Prudence Klines.
“Stop calling us that,” Augum said, nonetheless smiling. Her smile was infectious and he couldn’t help it.
“Surprised you two weren’t sucking each other’s faces off out there,” Jezebel added, snatching a plum from a nearby bowl.
“Really, Jez,” Secretary Klines said in her squeaky voice. “You take liberties with them and they will do so with you.”
Jezebel shrugged. “Look at them, they clearly want to.”
“Want to what?”
Jezebel pronged two fingers at them as she took a juicy bite from the plum. “Suck each other’s faces off.”
Time to return fire. “Don’t you have, like, a crate to push around or something?” Augum asked with a grin.
This made Jezebel snort and choke on her plum.
Secretary Klines shook her head. “Warned you, didn’t I?”
“Come on, Prudes, let’s grab a cup of red, I know when I’ve been beaten,” Jezebel said, winking at Augum and Leera in a friendly fashion.
Leera absently floated the chicken bone under the table. “I still want her to adopt me.”
The banter continued as students periodically joined them. Some went off to dance while others went to play games, and the remaining hung around to chat and feast. Those who received their new degree kept flashing their arm rings, admiring them. As a warlock, Augum began to understand how big a deal it was to get a new degree, for not only did it signify that one worked hard enough to achieve that success, but it also meant that person had not hit their ceiling yet.
“Where’s Nana?” Augum asked later as a crescent moon hung overhead amongst a vast field of stars. He hadn’t seen her in a while.
“Mrs. Stone went to take a short nap,” Bridget said, panting. She had once again been dancing with Brandon. He and Lord Bowlander seemed to be competing on who would tire first.
“Actually, that reminds me,” Bridget added, taking a drink of water and wiping her sweaty brow. “Mrs. Stone had something to see us about in the castle when she got up.”
“Good,” Augum replied, noticing that Elizabeth was occasionally shooting him fleeting looks. “Because I made up a story we need to make happen.”
“What? What story?” Leera asked.
Augum explained the Elizabeth encounter.
Leera scoffed. “Fine, but you could have just told her no thank you.”
He supposed he could have, it just seemed easier at the time.
Brandon danced his way over.
“Stop that,” Augum said, wincing as if a foul smell had come near.
Brandon ceased wavering. “Stop what?”
“That nasty shoulder thing you were doing. You’re making the academy brothers look bad with that.”
Brandon chortled. “Like I’m going to take dancing lessons from you, clubfoot.”
Augum smiled. He had been enjoying bantering with Brandon all evening. He got along swimmingly with him, for Brandon did not place him on some stupid hero pedestal, but treated him as an equal, something Augum craved.
“So how’s it going with Bridget?” Augum asked, handing Brandon a bowl of cherries while Leera chatted with Bridget, Haylee and Alyssa.
Brandon absently took a bunch and began slurping them up, spitting the pits out as he went. “She’s playing me like a fiddle.”
Augum almost laughed. “That’s not like her, you know. But I can tell she likes you.”
“Think so?”
“I do.”
“I don’t know, she’s a princess and I’m just a gutterborn—”
“—oh, you don’t want to use that word around her.”
“I don’t?”
“Not if you don’t want her to rip your ears off.”
“Bridget’s not violent.”
“Unless you tease her too much. Then the arm punching begins. Takes practice to get to that level of annoyance though.”
Brandon cracked his knuckles. “I’m good at annoying. I’d rather try something new, like charming.”
Augum shrugged. “You can always take lessons from Bowlander.”
Brandon snorted. “Shut up.”
Augum snagged a cherry. “I’m nervous, you know.”
Brandon allowed a moment to pass as he tossed a cherry in one hand. “About what you have to do?”
Augum slowly nodded as he watched the musicians play and the crowd dance. Felt good to talk about the heavy weight on his shoulders with a friend other than the girls.
“You know the whole kingdom’s behind you.”
Augum gave a half shrug. He wasn’t so sure about that.
“They are, they’re just waiting for the right moment. I’m telling you, they’re ready to full-on revolt. They’ve had it with the famine, with the undead attacks, with being pushed around. But if they don’t have help, well, it’s going to be a slaughter.” He sucked back a cherry and spit the pit. “Kind of already is though, isn’t it?”
Augum said nothing, suddenly conscious of time speeding along. He had to master Annocronomus Tempusari as soon as possible. He glanced up at the looming black facade of Castle Arinthian, bathed in torchlight from below, the windows warm. “We should be training, this is all a waste of time. People are losing their lives as we speak.”
Brandon elbowed him. “It’s not a waste of time, this is why we live,” and with that, he stepped to Bridget and smoothly joined her in an animated discussion, leaving Augum speechless.
Bridget abruptly took out her Exot orb as those around her hushed. “Yes, Mrs. Stone. Right away, Mrs. Stone.” She put it away and glanced to Augum and Leera.
It was time to see her.
Caught
The castle sounded deserted as the trio made their way into the foyer, where they found Mrs. Stone leaning heavily on her staff. She had been watching a shadowy corner, back hunched.
The trio lined up dutifully before her.
“Nana?” Augum prodded delicately.
Mrs. Stone startled and placed her cloudy gaze upon them. “Ah. Yes. There is a reason I wanted you to get to know your future classmates.”
Augum exchanged a look with the girls. Future classmates! That meant Mrs. Stone truly believed in them, in their ability to defeat the Lord of the Legion! It was a heartening thought.
“Please follow me.” Mrs. Stone tried to go up the steps but almost stumbled.
“Please let me help you, Nana,” Augum said, taking her arm. She grunted, but allowed him to help her. She led them to one of the corner battlements on the third floor. It was dark and the girls had to light their palms so they could see. As usual, it worried Augum that Nana was feeling so tired, not even bothering to cast her floating globe of light.
“This castle, as you well know, is no ordinary castle,” Mrs. Stone wheezed. “And therefore, these battlements are no mere battlements.” She let that thought sink in as the trio glanced about at the musty stone and various archer slots. “Each battlement could summon a balli
sta. These ballistae could be manned and used to arcanely attack besieging enemies.”
Augum opened his mouth to ask how, when he realized she was pausing to catch her breath and would consider it an interruption.
“I am able to summon some of the castle’s defensive abilities with the scion, but that is only a partial alert. The full capabilities of the castle can only be activated with the master runeword which, unfortunately, I do not possess. Now, I am sure you recall the gates in the cellar.”
“We do, Mrs. Stone,” Leera said.
“I believe Arinthian hid his most powerful secrets in that dungeon, secrets I believe may help in defeating Lividius. I have attempted to discover what that master runeword is, and I shall continue to do so, but I am old, weary, and burdened with training duties that take up much of my energy. Therefore I challenge you to rediscover the runeword.”
“But Mrs. Stone, can you not simply Disenchant the enchantments on the doors?” Bridget asked.
“Some enchantments are extremely difficult to dispel, especially older ones. In fact, the Castle Arinthian enchantments are so old they have fused with the castle itself, and I would venture to say are impossible to remove.”
“What did you mean by ‘rediscover the runeword’, Nana?”
Mrs. Stone took Augum’s arm again. “Please take me to my room, I dare say I have overtaxed myself today.”
The trio slowly walked her upstairs, Augum leading the way. She spoke as she shuffled up the steps.
“I thought it lost to history, but during my research I stumbled across knowledge proclaiming that the master runeword to any castle is usually woven into the castle itself. This is done in case the runeword is forgotten, as seems to be the case here, allowing descendants to rediscover the runeword no matter how much time has passed.” She stopped briefly to glance at Augum. “I suspect, when it comes to Castle Arinthian, that only a true descendant will be worthy of finding the rune,” before resuming her slow climb. “At first I was sure the runeword was lost to time and had not been embedded into this particular castle … that is until I came across a clue.”
