by Sever Bronny
“You won’t die in vain,” he gasped, “I mean … you needn’t … I mean …” It was all so confusing!
“And what exactly have you accomplished? Why should I die so you could play with baubles, cheap titles, and idiotic infatuations …”
“Don’t know … who I am … or where … or when …”
Leera drew Augum close. “They’re only shadows, Aug,” she kept whispering, lovingly stroking his neck. “Only shadows, my love …”
Augum glanced to Bridget. Her face kept morphing to an old woman’s.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked in a terrified whisper.
“Don’t … cast … Cron … in there,” he only managed to gasp. How tired he was! As if he had climbed a mountain.
Leera suddenly drew back, took his face in her hands and searched his eyes. “How many heartbeats?”
“Seventy … or so …” His body had aged ten months over three castings of Annocronomus Tempusari. And he certainly felt it. His bones ached with brittleness, as if they were trying to push through taut, dry skin. His joints throbbed, and his head … his head hurt worse than all of it put together, as if a bull demon was stomping it again and again, trying to squish out the impurities and many failures.
The spell had pushed his arcane boundary most dangerously.
The shock of adding up that arithmetic showed on both girl’s faces. Mrs. Stone, who rested in Bridget’s arms, perpetually shook with tremors, while Mr. Ribbons quietly stared off into the darkness, muttering incomprehensively to himself.
“You murdered my auntie again,” Robin said in malignant tones. He was so close Augum could smell the stench of rot. Suddenly Robin broke out in a deathly grin. “Hey, want to see something neat?” He raised his fist. “Here, watch this—” and punched Augum square in the face, causing him to instantly black out.
A Name
By the time Augum woke up, the girls had discovered the wall alarm and dispelled it. He lay beside a feeble Mrs. Stone, who was gasping in short breaths.
“Are you all right, Nana?”
She slowly turned her head. “Never … you … mind … me … Great-grandson. Keep … focused.”
“I will, Nana.” A lack of concentration had caused him dearly thus far. He had to really step things up, especially down here. As shadow-plagued and exhausted as he felt, he needed to rally.
Leera knelt by Augum’s side and brushed sweaty hair from his forehead. “Mrs. Stone gave you some light healing, my love.” She glanced nervously back at the dark tunnel. “Ready to move on?”
“Yes.” Augum allowed her to help him stand. His bones felt sharp and his insides hurt, as if having expanded. But that was nothing to the shadows. They surrounded the group like a lynch mob, speaking with hushed voices; cruel, vengeful voices full of malice and hate and revenge, making concentration difficult.
“I swear you’re a little bit taller,” Leera said with a pained smile. She kissed his cheek. “But you look the same otherwise.”
Augum groaned. “I feel like my insides had been chopped up on a butcher’s block before being dumped back into my body.” He flinched as a nearby shadow made a gesture as if it was going to attack, only to back off at the last instant.
“Remember, they’re not real, Aug,” Bridget said, carefully helping Mrs. Stone to her feet. “Mr. Ribbons, will you take her? Mr. Ribbons—?”
“Mmm?” The man was gaping at the tunnel.
“I need your help, Mr. Ribbons. Please.”
Mr. Ribbons glanced to Mrs. Stone. There was nothing behind his eyes, nothing at all.
“Mr. Ribbons—”
“As you wish,” the man said mechanically, reaching for Mrs. Stone.
Smart, Augum thought. It’ll keep him occupied from his thoughts.
The group stepped through the hole in the wall once more. On the other side, Augum snatched a pebble and placed it on a stone in the center of the hole.
“What are you doing?” Leera asked.
“Setting a silent alarm.” He placed his hands over the pebble and concentrated through the distracting shadows. “Concutio del alarmo.”
“Failed casting,” sniped Erika Scarson, slapping the pebble away. Augum watched as it careened into a corner. No alarm sounded in his brain. All he heard was the cursed jingling of Erika’s earrings.
“Aug, you coming?” Bridget asked.
“The pebble. Is it still there on the stone?”
“Of course it is.”
“Ah.” It was in his mind. Yet he still couldn’t see the pebble. To him, it lay in the corner. Erika strolled over to stand between him and the girls. The crowd of shadows closed in a little. They were all Augum could see.
“It’ll all be over soon, kiddo,” Erika whispered with a classic Scarson malevolent smile. She was far more vivid than he recalled. She was wearing her best red robe. Her crooked nose had taken on an exaggerated oafish quality, and her perfume stank of sweet rotten meat.
“Aug! Come on!” called a familiar voice.
Augum narrowed his eyes at the shadows. “You’re not real. None of you.”
Erika shook her head slowly. “Oh my sweet, sweet boy. How innocent you are. I should say were, shouldn’t I? You are now a murderer. You do not get—”
“—shut up!” Augum spat, charging around her. Several of the shadows slapped and punched him as he walked by, but he ignored the pain, telling himself over and over again that it was an illusion, even though it completely felt real. One of them jammed a clawed thumb into his shoulder injury and he screamed reflexively, recoiling away, only to see his dear great-grandfather, Thomas Stone, shaking his head at him in disappointment.
Bridget and Leera were gently pleading for him to focus, to continue. Their soft eyes held no judgment, however, understanding that he suffered from the side effects of a powerful spell. Oh, his friends, his dear, beloved friends! How he hoped they would only survive this! How he hoped they would get back to Castle Arinthian in one piece …
Erika’s laughter echoed in the corridor followed by the sound of many feet. All those shadows were trailing him, mocking, jeering, jesting amongst each other. It was difficult to concentrate. How in Sithesia was he going to put up any kind of fight in this condition?
“Almost there,” he told himself, plodding along. “Almost there …”
The corridors and rooms mostly looked the same. Some rooms were filled with magma, others nothing but plain stone blocks serving as benches. Where the heck was he? Lost, certainly. Lost to time. Yet through it all, the girls seemed to somehow know where they were going, ending up in a voluminous round stone room with a high domed ceiling, at the other end of which was a massive arched door. It was plain, with no handle or ornamentation of any kind.
“This is it,” Augum blubbered, stumbling up to the door, trying to keep the disorientation at bay. Seventy heartbeats. Seventy! “This is where she rests. Here …” Somehow, he just knew it. His mother was behind this simple ancient door.
“Your tomb awaits,” a deep and familiar voice whispered.
Augum glanced over to see Sir Tobias Westwood, that old knight and former mentor, standing beside him, glancing up at the door with a kind of eternal awe. Behind him, dark shadows stood in quiet reverence.
“Everybody dies, Augum,” the man said.
“Please, not you too,” Augum whispered.
Sir Westwood looked over to him with that bushy mustache he sometimes liked to grow out. “I wish you hadn’t let me down, Augum.”
“I’m … I’m sorry, Sir …” he was a simple farm boy in a barren hut.
Bridget, who had been casting Reveal along with Leera at every doorway and on anything remotely suspicious, had cast Reveal upon the door before him, and immediately yelped in surprise.
“Booby-trapped,” she said, gently drawing Augum away from the door. “An extremely complicated enchantment too. I won’t be able to dispel it.” She looked to Mrs. Stone, but the old legend’s head hung low as one hand
rested upon her staff and the other upon Mr. Ribbons.
Mrs. Stone glanced up with a perpetually trembling head. “You … must …”
Bridget gave Augum a pale look.
Augum shared that look with Leera, before pronouncing, “We tackle it together. As a team. I’ll start.” He’d simply have to focus. “That way, should I fail, Leera can cast Cron.” No way was Bridget allowed to cast Cron down here.
Leera nodded. “I’m able, and I barely see the shadows anymore anyway.” She glanced down at her left hand, which was trembling. She immediately stilled it with her other hand, before hiding both behind her back.
Augum reached out to gentle her soul with a touch, only to have it slapped away by her.
“Don’t you dare touch me! We’re through, you selfish jerk!”
For a moment, his heart tore in two, until he realized it had been a shadow Leera. Gods, they were infiltrating his most inner mental sanctums, and he could barely tell them apart.
He closed his eyes and reached out again. This time, a soft hand grasped his.
“It’s all right, my love, you can do this,” Leera whispered. “They’re only shadows.”
Much more than shadows, he wanted to say. They were madness. They did not know what he had seen, what Bridget had turned into …
He opened his eyes and glanced beyond the doorway they had come from. The darkness within that corridor seemed deeper than the night, and much more threatening. It squirmed like a garden of maggots.
“Focus, Aug,” Leera whispered. She was watching him, willing him to succeed with her dark eyes.
He swallowed and nodded before taking precious moments to focus on the complex spell before him. First, Reveal. He mustered his courage. “Un vun asperio enchantus,” and almost yelped in surprise. What lit up before him was the most incredibly complicated piece of arcanery he had ever seen. Strands upon strands layered until they resembled a brain. Worse, the trap glowed blood red, meaning it was explosive. Should any one of them fail in the disarming chain, they’d perish in the explosion. And by the size of the trap, he suspected the explosion would take out a town’s worth of underground tunnels.
In other words, there was no hiding from it.
He refocused and studied it in detail, deciding to treat it like a beautiful work of art while doing his best to ignore the vicious taunts, half of which seemed to came from friends. As the image began to fade, he quickly transitioned to the other spell, the more dangerous one—Disenchant.
“Exotus mia enchantus duo dai ideum exat.” The brain reappeared before him, in even greater detail, detail that was touchable and removable. Now for the delicate surgery. His fingers floated over the tendrils of brain-like matter. With sweat dripping from his scalp, he began the attack by carefully tugging on a particularly thin strand he had identified in Reveal. Much like a ball of slippery twine, it began to untangle. He pulled out the fine, long hair, and tossed it aside, barely conscious of it disappearing. Then he grabbed another one.
Robin’s voice suddenly buzzed into his ear. “Try concentrating through this—”
Augum closed his eyes and simply said, “NO.” His hand remained on the dangerous tendril, fingers trembling slightly. The punch, which he was sure was about to kill them all, did not come. Augum opened his eyes and continued the delicate work, absolutely determined to succeed.
Erika chortled. “How are you going to feel when Leera’s guts are all over the walls? Hmm, my sweet darling? Bet it’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”
Augum pulled a second tendril out, feeling the Disenchant spell already wanting to wane. The stench of Erika made his stomach roil as her deathly lips practically touched his ear. He sensed Robin’s face go near his other side. The both of them suddenly shouted, “FAIL!”
Augum yanked his hand away. Luckily, he had let go of the strand instead of jerking on it, which would have certainly set off the explosion. With some disappointment, he watched as the brain-like trap dissolved before his eyes. He gave Erika and Robin a derisive look before stepping aside.
“Two tendrils down,” he said to Bridget, who was up next. “Pull them gently.”
Because she had already studied the trap with Reveal, she went straight to casting Disenchant. As the shadows taunted Augum, he took another step back, lest they make him do something stupid.
Bridget’s fingers worked away at a faster pace than his. “Three more down!” she declared upon finishing, waving Leera to take her place. Leera cast Reveal and studied diligently before moving on to Disenchant, hands shaking the most.
Augum held his breath and Bridget couldn’t even look. At least if they set off the trap, it’d be so powerful they would simply cease to exist.
Leera suddenly withdrew her hands as there was a loud hissing noise, followed by a pop. She placed disbelieving eyes upon each of them. “I don’t believe it … we did it!” and the trio briefly hugged. Then they turned back to the door.
“All right … now how do we get through?” Leera asked.
“Shyneo.” Bridget placed her lit palm on the door. “Entarro,” but it didn’t open.
Mrs. Stone abruptly shuffled over, Mr. Ribbons still silently helping her. She placed a hand over it.
“Mmm.”
“Nana?”
“Locked … codified … to Lividius.”
“Then we’re done for,” Leera muttered.
“One … possibility … enchanted to … direct bloodline.” Her ancient eyes fell upon Augum, who felt a tingle.
“I’ll try, Nana.” He approached the door. “Shyneo,” and placed his electrified palm upon its stone surface. “Entarro,” but the door did not open.
The girls groaned in despair.
“Wait,” Augum said, getting an idea. He returned his lit palm to the door. “Terra Titan Stone.”
The door rumbled open.
The Call of Destiny
Sunlight streamed into the round room through the open door, making everyone shade their eyes, as if saluting. It made the boiling room feel even hotter. They were deep underground, yet beyond that ancient Rivican entrance was a gently rolling plain of tall yellow grass, much like the Tallows. An epic crimson sun hung in the horizon. But it was what was between that sun and the door that was of interest—a great stone arch, much like the front facade of a temple. And before that arch sat the largest bull demon Augum had ever seen.
When the door had finished swinging open, the great mountain of muscle began to move. It bellowed a massive snort of steam before rumbling to its feet with a grinding noise so deep it made Augum’s innards rumble.
“Mother of the gods,” Mr. Ribbons said, letting Mrs. Stone go to lean against the wall while he fell to his knees. “Mother of the gods …”
Suddenly, “Anna. Atticus. Stone …” said a raspy voice behind them.
The trio whirled about to find a bearded, dark-skinned man standing in the doorway they had come through. There was pride in his smoldering eyes and his stiff rigid bearing.
“Von … Edgeworth,” Mrs. Stone said, promptly descending into a fit of coughing.
“Zigmund Von Edgeworth, my esteemed dear woman,” the man said in his sharply harsh accent. “You defeated my father in a famous duel that has plagued the reputation of the Von Edgeworths for many a year.” He took a single step forward and the trio took one back, but he completely ignored them and Mr. Ribbons, who still sat on his knees, mouth gaping at the distant bull demon.
“Allow me to say, venerable one,” Von Edgeworth continued in patient tones, “that I never dreamed I would have a chance to avenge the family honor. All my life, I have been waiting for an opportunity such as this.” He glanced around at the room, shaking his head in wonder. “The Seers cryptically told me my destiny awaited ‘in the crimson domed heat’. After all this time, I now understand what it is they had been referring to.” He wiped his sweaty, hairy brow, voice low. “It was dishonorable of you to paralyze me without a duel.”
“We … were … not … dueling
,” Mrs. Stone wheezed between coughs, still hunching over her staff. She was trembling and swaying.
Von Edgeworth raised his chin and removed the cloak from around his shoulders. He ceremoniously held it out, showing off the burning sword emblem of the Legion, before letting it drop to the stone floor. “But we shall now.”
“You can’t duel her!” Bridget pleaded. “Please, sir, she is unwell! Look at her!” Tears were streaming down her face as she stood protectively in front of Mrs. Stone. “Look!”
“My young dear, this moment has been in the making for a very long time. And it will be …” He clenched his fist. “… my finest. I shall become a legend for it. The Von Edgeworth line shall be engraved across the heavens—” He painted the sky with an open palm. “—for generations.”
The man leveled his gaze at Mrs. Stone, looking through Bridget. “Today we duel in the old way. Not as servants of others, but as free warlocks. Let us bow, so I may avenge the wound to the Von Edgeworth honor. Anna Atticus Stone, I call on thee to show thy stripes and duel me in the old way! Thou canst refuse an honorable challenge! Duel me!” Eighteen green rings ripped to life around his black-robed arm as he arcanely roared, “DUEL ME!”
Mrs. Stone placed a gentle hand on Bridget, urging her to step aside.
“Mrs. Stone, no, please, I beg you …”
“Conserve … that … strength, dear … Bridget. Your friends … will need it.”
Bridget stepped aside with a sob.
Augum saw that this was going to happen no matter what. And then he remembered something Bridget had said as an old woman. “The vial—” he blurted. “Nana … the vial …”
Mrs. Stone gave him an odd look, then slowly withdrew a small vial of what Augum recognized as Healing Nettle. “I had … forgotten … I … brought it …”
Augum hurriedly unstoppered it for her and brought it to her lips.
“I shall grant you your feeble medicine,” Von Edgeworth declared.
Mrs. Stone seemed to immediately straighten upon finishing the contents of the vial. She turned to Augum, voice brittle but strengthening. “Destiny calls, Great-grandson. You know what it is you have to do.”
