by Sever Bronny
“No,” Leera said. “You didn’t—”
Augum nodded. “I did.” He showed his palm to them, allowing the key with the letter A in the bow to flare blue.
“You’re the Keeper of the Keys,” Leera said in awed tones. “You’re the Keeper of the Keys!” and she embraced him, showering him with flagrant kisses until the audience began groaning.
“Enough, you gross monkeys,” Jez finally said. “We don’t have bread to throw at you. Remember that talk we had about acting like a prince and princess?”
Leera pried herself from Augum. “What talk?” she said innocently, before throwing Jez a wink.
“Oh, Mrs. Hawthorne, the stories were without exaggeration,” Laudine whispered. “They are like a love story of old!”
Jez gave her a revolted look before making a shooing motion at Augum. “Well go on then, let’s see what’s in this place.”
“Don’t worry, it’s just a dungeon,” Leera said.
“I don’t think it is,” Augum countered. He had been thinking about it all morning. He was certain they had only thought it was a dungeon because that’s what the gate looked like. But once more, there was no evidence of that at all, only an assumption.
“What do you think it is then?” Haylee asked.
“Don’t know, but we’re about to find out.” He placed his key-lit palm before the door. “Entarro.” The gates squealed open.
“Look how thick the dust is,” Jengo said, kicking it with his boot.
“Appears to be over a hundred years’ worth of accumulation,” Mrs. Hawthorne said with sharply crossed brows.
“Two hundred, Mrs. Hawthorne,” Augum said. When she gave him a questioning look, he shrugged. “That’s what Mrs. Stone said, that it’s been abandoned for about two hundred years.”
The thought made the lot of them pause, until Jez flicked his ear.
“Ow!”
“Stop stalling, Stone.”
“Some mentor,” he grumbled as he took his first tentative steps into the dark tunnel, palm shining.
“Just you wait,” Jez grumbled back, herding a grinning Leera and a frowning-in-concentration Bridget.
“ ‘Stop stalling, Stone,’ ” Laudine said under her breath before bursting with, “That is alliteration!”
Leera crinkled her nose. “A lot of what?”
“Not now, Cooper,” Mrs. Hawthorne said, waving impatiently for them to go on.
Laudine solemnly raised a palm. “ ‘Onward into the void, friends’. Shyneo!”
“Shyneo.” Various palms lit up in chorus with hers, sending a prismatic display of lights down the corridor. They strode slowly, appreciating how long it had been since souls wandered down this very hall. The walls were roughly hewn, but underneath all that dust, the floor turned out to be made of smooth flagstone.
They soon came upon a set of long and shallow descending steps. They went down about two flights’ worth before concluding at a great pair of towering oaken double doors. Carved into them was an open palm, on top of which rested an orb, within which was portrayed a bolt of lightning among clouds.
“The Arinthian scion,” Bridget whispered reverently.
As if in acknowledgment that it was spoken of, the scion hummed a little louder. Augum hadn’t even noticed it floating near his head, already so used to it. It was as if it had been there all his life, waiting to become a part of him.
The group shared mysterious looks.
“ ‘A great artifact he doth hold’,” Laudine whispered to herself.
Leera exchanged an annoyed look with Haylee.
“It appears there is no door handle,” Mr. Haroun said. It was the first time he had spoken since leaving the dining room. His face was grave. Augum sensed the man was concerned about what they may find. Further, he was an Ordinary and had to rely on others to defend him from arcane attack.
Augum smiled confidently at the man before raising his palm. “Entarro.” He felt the heat of his palm flash as the Arinthian key lit up. The doors clicked before popping open. Augum gave them a Telekinetic push and they opened with an ancient iron squeal. Immediately, a wide circle of torches flared to life.
What they saw made them gasp, for before them lay a vast round room with a magnificently painted domed ceiling, from which hung a great wrought iron chandelier festooned with dragons, each holding a burning torch. The ceiling was meticulously hand painted with various scenes. Some showed the castle in times of war, others in times of peace and harmony. The floor was made of large polished black and white checkered marble tiles. There were three other sets of towering doors, one set on the right, one on the left, and one opposite.
“ ‘For even the Sithesian heavens themselves, clouds and all, kneel before the beauty of the craft of the Unnameables’,” Laudine whispered in reverent tones.
“Magnificent,” Haylee whispered, adding her sense of awe to everyone else’s. Necks craned as people commented on what they saw, fanning out to explore all the marvelous workmanship.
“Look what’s on this set of doors!” Leera exclaimed from the far right. Everyone rushed over to see that it was carved with a man in a prison cell.
“So there are dungeons,” she added. “But let’s see what the other doors look like first.”
They fanned out once more.
“Whoa, look at this!” Jengo said. He was pointing at the left-most set of doors. They rushed over.
“Is this what I think it is?” Leera asked, running delicate fingers over the carving of a sword, a small portion of an elaborate work that depicted all sorts of weapons and armors.
“I am sorry, but what are we looking at?” Mr. Haroun asked.
Mrs. Hawthorne gave him a hopeful look. “The depiction appears consistent with what you would expect on the door of an armory.”
“An armory full of secret weapons and armors from an age long past,” Laudine added in a mysterious whisper, meeting each of their eyes as if trying to squeeze every ounce of meaning from the proclamation.
Augum felt a rush of excitement. If true, it might provide valuable assistance in the defense of the castle. He eagerly raised his palm. “Entarro.”
The doors swung toward them, forcing them to take a step back. Inside, reflecting their palm light, was a room full of—
“Empty stands,” Leera said lamely. “Great, it’s been robbed.”
The room was spacious, with numerous aisles of empty racks. Where there should have been swords there were instead ancient cobwebs. Where there should have been armor there instead stood ghostly stands, dusty and forlorn.
“Oh, my poor heart doth break into infinite pieces,” Laudine cried.
“You didn’t actually expect all that military treasure to last all these years, did you?” Jez asked.
Augum paced the aisles. “This doesn’t make sense …”
“Maybe the last set of doors will be something,” Haylee grumbled, limping off with the others, leaving only Leera to wait on Augum. She looked on after the others, absently beckoning at him.
“You coming, love?”
“I’m telling you, this doesn’t make sense,” he repeated.
“It’s been raided, just like the rest of the castle. Come on, they look excited by that last set of doors.”
“What’s that on the wall behind you?” he asked, striding to her.
“Huh?”
“That.” He reached past her and brushed off a layer of dust, finding an elaborate letter A within a circle.
“Probably turns on the torches,” Leera muttered, standing on tippy toes to see what the others were up to.
Augum, who had a hopeful feeling, placed his key hand on the button. It lit up instantly.
“Gods!” Leera yelped.
“Yeah, it’s a neat color.”
“Not that, this—” She turned him around.
“Whoa …”
Every single rack had been filled with a magnificent weapon or armor. Armors ranged from ornate studded leathers to glimmering st
eel plate. There were axes, maces, flails, war sickles, halberds, great spears, war bows, and all sorts of swords, from daggers to the two-handed variety. Every single piece was marked with an ornate letter A and expertly crafted.
Augum placed his key hand on the A again and it all disappeared once more. “Huh, look at that,” he said, making it visible again so they could inspect it all.
While Leera shouted at the others to come see what Augum had uncovered, he strolled about, picking the objects up with awe. They were not Dreadnought weapons, but they certainly looked majestic and well wrought. He cast Reveal on a piece of armor and found that it had been enchanted with some kind of protective spell.
“It had to be hidden for a reason, perhaps to fool bandits!” Haylee exclaimed.
“Or to fool those who took the Keeper of the Keys under duress,” Mr. Haroun said, shaking his head in wonder.
“That’s the point,” Bridget said, brows furrowed. “Atrius Arinthian must have anticipated a great undead attack before taking on Occulus.”
“What good fortune,” Laudine said. “No, what grand fortune!”
“They’re enchanted,” Augum said to Mrs. Hawthorne.
The academy teacher took the hint and immediately inspected a sword, casting Reveal. “I say!”
They turned to her in anticipation.
She smiled. “They have all been enchanted with anti-undead spells. This entire armory was made to fight the undead.”
“Of course,” Bridget whispered, hand travelling over a finely-crafted woman’s steel chest plate. “History come to life …”
“There is another enchantment present,” Mrs. Hawthorne said, squinting at the sword while examining it with delicate fingers. “A deep, ancient enchantment, practically fused with the steel. Very interesting. It appears to be …”
Everyone leaned forward a little closer.
“… an advanced return enchantment.”
“Forgive an Ordinary, but what does that mean?” Mr. Haroun asked.
“No forgiveness necessary at all, Mr. Haroun,” Mrs. Hawthorne stated absently. She glanced around the room. “Every item here eventually returns to this armory. Perhaps when the soldier dies in battle, or when her life expires naturally, or who knows what …”
“That’s … that’s possible?” Jengo asked.
“Oh yes indeed, but such an enchantment could only be crafted by the most able of warlocks.”
“Atrius Arinthian was a master warlock,” Augum said, indicating his arm. “He had the full sleeve.”
“Ah.” Mrs. Hawthorne was nodding. “That would do it indeed.”
Leera suddenly pointed to the far left of the room, where five wide, flat shapes were covered by old cloth. “Uh, what are those …?”
They rushed over and Augum slipped the cloth off the first one, revealing a giant crossbow etched with runes.
Everyone gasped.
Mrs. Hawthorne immediately splayed a hand over it. “Un vun asperio aurum enchantus.” Her hawk brows furrowed as she studied the ballista in detail before turning to Augum with a victorious smile. “These are powerful siege engines known as ballistae, from an older time.” She began to reveal each ballista by removing the cloth, speaking as she went. “Crafted with ancient and complex arcanery, they are teleportable, but only, it seems to me, by the Keeper of the Keys—” Augum exchanged a wide-eyed look with the girls. “For them to function, they must be manned by a warlock, and thus become infused by that warlock’s element.”
“Oooo let me try!” and before anyone could say anything, Leera hopped onto the back of one. The great iron and wood mechanism immediately morphed into vibrating and glowing water. “Move aside!” she yelled and people dove as she laughed, shouting, “Two, one—FIRE!” She pulled a trigger and there was a great whoosh as a huge sharp jet of water shot across the room, walloping into the opposite wall and drilling a hole into it.
“Enough, Jones, get off of there,” Hawthorne barked.
Leera hopped off, skipping over to inspect the damage she had done. “Woo, not bad, but I expected a little more … punch.”
So had Augum. He wondered why that was. Something told him this wasn’t the end of the story with these things. He suspected he, as the Keeper of the Keys, had some serious studying to do in that regard.
“Once you figure out how, you’ll be able to teleport these ballistae anywhere within the castle,” Mrs. Hawthorne explained to Augum.
“Could defend against a whole army with all this,” Jengo said, turning in place with arms wide. “All might not be lost after all!”
But Augum saw Bridget do something odd—her head was tilted sideways as she approached the far end of the room opposite the entrance. “Bridget—?”
She did not answer. Instead, she drew close to a large dusty curtain, before slowly tugging on it, until it fell from the wall. And what it revealed made everyone gasp once more.
“A vault …” Augum said, immediately realizing it had to be what Mrs. Stone had been talking about.
The rush over to it was practically a stampede.
“Engraved with the letter A for Arinthian,” Bridget whispered.
“No handle again,” Jengo said.
Jez elbowed Augum. “Do your business, Stone.”
Augum took a deep breath, placed his palm on the A, and said, “Entarro.” His palm glowed warm and the vault began clinking as if some kind of ancient mechanism was being undone. At last, it slowly opened toward them … revealing a room full of glittering treasure, armor, and weapons.
The Arinthian Vault
For a long moment, the gathered throng gaped in awe at the glittering treasures before them. The vault was a small square room made entirely of steel. Inside, first and foremost, were gloriously ornate suits of armor matched in his and her pairings. The grandest set, standing dead center, was the king and queen plate armors. They were the color of milk and came complete with illustrious plumed peacock and horsehair helms, gilded gauntlets, elaborate pauldrons, and the full complement of pieces that composed a full plate set. On the chest was the ubiquitous A, with its many ornate loops. Beside each of the armors, on its own stand, was a tapered long sword of exquisite steel, matched with a shield with the A crest. Before the two majestic sets of armors were two tasseled pillows. On top of the first sat a simple golden crown, without jewels or precious stones. On the other sat a simple golden circlet.
The other sets of armors, obviously meant for the princes and princesses of the castle, were of all kinds, from light padded leather to chainmail, each designed for nimble movement, as if for warlocks, and each gilded and crafted beautifully. Further, each was also matched with an ornate steel vambrace and a weapon.
… All except one.
A single empty stand stood before ornate studded leather armor bleached milk white. Beside it was a female version of the same armor.
Augum exchanged a look with Leera. It was obvious she was thinking the same thing. That was where Burden’s Edge belonged. For whatever reason, it had not returned to its place.
There were other items in the vault—assorted cloaks and gauntlets and gloves and helms and shoes. There were ancient spell tomes, stoppered vials of varying colors, a multitude of parchment scrolls wrapped in crimson ribbon, all manner of ancient coins and jewels, gold bars, and a wide variety of boxes.
Bridget delicately withdrew a scroll, unraveling it slightly. “It’s a Slow Time scroll!” She took a peek at some of the others. “Look at that, there’s exactly three of them.”
“This belongs to the Arinthian line,” Mrs. Hawthorne declared. She placed her eyes upon Augum. “And so thus it belongs to you.”
Augum swallowed, not knowing what to say. He paced over to a particularly large tome sitting before the king and queen armors. “ ‘An Arinthian Odyssey’,” he read aloud. There was another thick book below on a separate stand. Its cover was leather, its pages heavily worn vellum. “ ‘Keeper of thy Keys: A Compendium’,” Augum read. He carefully cracke
d the ancient book open. After scanning a few delicate pages, he glanced up at them. “These are instructions to the whole castle and grounds—!”
“Ooo, let me see!” Laudine said.
Mrs. Hawthorne held her back. “No, my dear, that is solely for the eyes of the Keeper of the Keys. We must respect the traditions of the castle.”
Augum barely heard, eyes blazing across the ancient Fentwick-style wording. There was everything he imagined and more: secret runewords, how all the equipment was enchanted and what it did, how it returned to its place—all he need do was call it back with a command. As for why the armory was complete after so long a time, it turns out it all automatically returned upon the Keeper of the Keys’ death, if a proper heir had not been declared. There was detailed information on castle defenses and offenses, even strategies for dealing with certain kinds of enemies, including the undead. There were maps of secret passages—and oh were there many! And it went on and on. There was so much Augum felt dizzy. There was simply no way he would be able to absorb it all in a tenday, and so would have to pick and choose carefully what he spent his time on.
But one particular chapter caught his attention.
“Trainers!” he blurted. “There are arcane trainers in the castle!”
“Yeah, we know,” Bridget said with a smile. She nodded back the way they had come. “The other doors.”
Augum gaped. His mind was alive with imaginative musings of what they looked like. Would they be anything like the ancient Antioc Library? Would there be a labyrinth?
“His Royal Highness is drooling,” Jez said with a snicker.
“I am not,” though Augum quickly wiped his mouth anyway. He glanced around the room, feeling like a little boy who had just found a golden coin.
“May I examine this blade?” Mrs. Hawthorne asked.
It occurred to Augum she was talking to him. “Oh, of course, Mrs. Hawthorne.” The question embarrassed him because they believed this all was solely his, yet he didn’t feel that way really. He felt it belonged to the Resistance.
“This is all Dreadnought equipment,” she declared after detailed study. “Every single piece here has been forged by Dreadnoughts.” She picked up an ornate ironwood box and opened it, revealing seven rings with familiar swirls. “Even these Exot-type rings are made out of Dreadnought steel.” She splayed a palm over them, murmuring, “Un vun asperio aurum enchantus,” and took a studious moment. “Fascinating, the enchantments upon them are so old and ingrained it would be next to impossible to dispel.” She reverently held the box. “These are known as war rings and I cannot tell you how rare they are.”
