by Sever Bronny
It had been difficult finding the stairwell, for it had been covered by grass and moss. The place was adorned with smooth cool stone benches and dim arcane torches. Dirt and dust was everywhere, but he paid it no heed. The wide pool had refilled using some kind of arcane lever mechanism, complete with basic temperature control via more crude levers.
As neat as it was, Augum’s mind was on the task at hand. Ideas bounced around his brain like stones in a hand-cranked rock tumbler, slowly being polished. Although at first he considered Mrs. Stone’s advice woefully inadequate, the more he thought about her observations, the more details he realized he had missed. He had not given her enough credit, for she had outlined simple solutions to complex problems.
For example, Sparkstone would likely use a 15th degree battle spell called Imprison that trapped a person in an invisible cell. All one need do is quickly cast Disenchant—preferably starting before the caster even finished the spell—and tug on a particular arcane sliver found in a corner of the cell. Doing so would efficiently unravel the entire spell, like pulling on a loose thread from a knitted cap. Another most oft-used spell at that degree level was Slow Time. Mrs. Stone suggested the trio cast the spell as well, but using a scroll. Luckily, there were three in the Arinthian vault. Further, many of the most powerful spells required time to cast. In a true battle, where the opponent was under constant attack, they would be difficult to pull off, thus limiting the Lord of the Legion to a selection of potent battle spells.
By the time he got out of the bathing pool, it was dark and windy outside, his brain hurt, and his stomach pined for sustenance. He traipsed back into the castle holding a bundle of books and letters, body at least feeling refreshed from the pool. He had even found some ancient hard-as-rock soap to clean himself with.
“You been sniffing around in those dungeons without me?” Leera asked upon spotting him in the foyer. She embraced him, only to give him a funny look. “Hey, how come you smell like lavender?”
“Bathing pools out back,” Augum replied absently, mind still roiling with ideas. “I’ll show everyone later,” he added when her eyes widened with excitement. “Got to eat something before I get grumpy.”
People kept out of his way, but maybe that was because he was mumbling ideas to himself like a lunatic.
“You’re pacing and muttering to yourself like Bridget,” Leera observed when they entered the dining room. Parchment plans and schedules were sprawled on the table from end to end.
“We’ve been busy,” she added, flicking through the sheaves. “Castle muster drills, group arcane warfare practice, daily Cron training, Leland Agonex training, our 6th degree training, siege defense, countless strategy meetings, evening war games, yadda, yadda, yadda. Even early morning exercise. You believe that? Exercise. In the morning. Anyway, you name it, we’ve got it. Hawthorne, Jez, Bridge, and the two student council elders, what are their faces—Elizabeth and Bogdan—mapped out every moment of every day, meaning we have no lives for the next tenday.”
She blew hair from her face. “I’ve been practicing arcanery under Hawthorne with Jengo and Haylee and the students. Hawthorne’s the tough no-nonsense type. Runs us like an army. Bridget has spent a ton of time with Leland. I think she’s purposefully ignoring Brandon, which I told her isn’t how the whole relationship thing works.” She snickered. “She’s embarrassed about those stupid jokes. Anyway, Chaska’s been training with the Ordinaries, which includes everyone from Milham and the families of the students. Chaska’s also—”
She stopped and drummed the table. “You’re barely paying attention. How did the studying go?”
Augum expelled a long breath through flapping lips.
“That bad, huh? Well, you’re going to have to step it up because all this—” She gestured at the mess. “—relies on us understanding Mrs. Stone’s instructions.”
Augum slumped into a chair and rubbed his face. “Haven’t even really gotten into the compendium yet.” There was so much to do, so much to read.
Leera paced over to him and began massaging his shoulders. Augum groaned, plopping his head onto the table. When she finished, he felt like a limp noodle. She hugged him from behind and kissed his neck, whispering, “You need to learn to ask for help.”
He nodded. She was right. Why was he trying to tackle the letters all alone?
Suddenly he bolted upright, accidentally smacking her chin with the back of his head.
“Ow—!”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, absently squeezing her hand. An idea had come to him, an absolutely brilliant idea. He glanced at all the parchments, the letters, the books. He needed a way to quickly put it all together in his mind. And there was a way, wasn’t there?
Leera tapped his temple. “What’s going on up there, hmm?”
“Uh …” Augum spread out the letters and opened the books. Then he flung off his shoes and jumped onto the table, sitting with crossed legs, smoothing his emerald academy robe under him.
Leera opened her palms questioningly. “Have you lost your—”
“—I need to do this. Can you make sure I’m not disturbed?”
“What are you—” Her mouth hung open a moment. “You’re going to cast Centarro, aren’t you? You lost your mind?” She pointed at the door. “You’ve got supper coming …” Her finger swung to point at the table. “And you’re on the table …” That finger rose to aim at him, wagging. “If Jez or Hawthorne or Mrs. Haroun see you—” She stopped, glancing at the mess, then to the door. “Screw it,” and marched over to it.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Joining you.”
He watched with raised brows as she readied to perform a spell on the door. Before he could say anything, she traced the outline of the door while incanting, “Obdura del boundera sen.”
“You … you just cast Seal.”
“I did.” She dusted her hands and whipped off her shoes, seeming to take pleasure in twirling them aside.
“But … how did you learn it so quickly?”
“Focus is a heck of a thing when one is properly motivated.” She stopped to wag her finger at him again. “If you think I had forgotten what was etched on that tomb at the library …”
Augum recalled all too well how the illusory tomb prophesized she’d die of “ineptitude”.
Then she too jumped onto the table. “You think I spent all day in this room planning? You know how that kind of stuff rolls my eyes into the back of my head with boredom. Told you, I worked with Hawthorne and Jez—and I worked hard.”
“What are you doing?” he asked as she settled across from him, legs crossed.
“What does it look like? I’m casting Centarro with you.”
“But—”
“—no buts. We’ve been working on these plans all day. Well, mostly Bridge. Anyway, we’re a team. I’ll be your sounding board and scribe.” She grabbed the fancy Canterran ink bottle and peacock quill they had given to Bridget for her birthday. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Right. Uh …” He organized the letters and books so that he could access them quickly, before frowning. “You have a plan when the side effects—” but stopped himself when he saw the reproachful look she was giving him. “Sorry, of course you do,” he muttered, before beginning the silent observational technique taught by his Leyan great-grandfather. He took note of the various random scratches on the old leather cover of the compendium, the ancient spilled tea stains on its vellum pages, the neat and loopy script with generations of additions in the margins. He observed Mrs. Stone’s detailed writing in her letters, the choice of plain wording, the immensity of the concepts when thought of as a whole.
“Ready,” Augum said after concluding the awareness practice.
“Ready.” Leera’s dark eyes gleamed with determination.
“On three?”
“On three.”
The pair of young lovers stared into each other’s eyes adoringly before beginning the count in unison. �
�One. Two. Three—centeratoraye xao xen.”
The scion buzzed and flashed with lightning in solidarity with the casting of the ancient and powerful spell. But it did not serve as a distraction, for Augum’s focus was suddenly entirely upon the pages before him, a focus so magnified by the scion it actually gave him a brief dose of dizziness. Leera’s focus, on the other hand, was solely on him. And as he began to quickly leap from idea to idea and parchment to parchment, she kept up, asking sharp and pertinent questions along the way, or clarifying concepts. The exchanges were rapid fire, the bridges between ideas unspoken. They almost became one person.
“The foundation is a gauntlet—” he explained.
“—a trap,” she instantly replied, making a note on a parchment.
“Multi-layered—”
“—with multiple facets.”
She met his gaze. “Initial contact—”
“—would have to appear inadvertent.”
“False flag?”
“Possibly.”
“A betrayal, then.”
“Or an escape.”
She brushed the peacock quill along her lips. “An actor.”
“Yes, that could work.”
She nodded as she scribbled. “Noted. Next.”
“Legion army would focus—”
“—on the front doors.”
“And Sparkstone’s entrance—”
“—would need to be exclusive and hidden.”
“Hmm,” she toned, making a quick note. “Tabling it. Next.”
“Scion ring snuff.”
“Was wondering about that. Solution?”
“Anticipatory triple self-snuff followed by immediate cancellation—”
“—brilliant. One of Mrs. Stone’s?”
“Naturally.”
“Solved.” She made a move along motion with the quill.
“Annocronomus Tempusari.”
“Listening.”
He paused, processing countless ideas in moments, dismissing nearly all with brutal efficiency, finally declaring, “Dry runs.”
A sharp brow rose smartly. “Using logic?”
“Shouted warnings based on cast spells.”
“We would be witnessing each other’s deaths—”
“—which we already anticipated.” The image of Bridget as an old woman flashed across his mind. He saw a brief look of pain cross Leera’s face and knew she had remembered seeing him and Bridget get blown up at his mother’s sarcophagus.
Her face softened. “And the aging?”
“A necessary sacrifice … but minimized if cast strategically.”
“Practice, practice—”
“—practice,” they finished in unison.
The corner of her mouth curved upward as she took notes. “On maximizing advantages. The Arinthian Dreadnought artifacts—”
“—appear to be simple to understand. Their nature is spell amplification.”
She took a moment to think, concluding, “We’re not there yet.”
“We’re not there yet,” he agreed.
She made another note. “Next.”
“Back to the gauntlet. Invisible points of contact in strategic locations—”
“—which carry the greatest risk.” Leera indicated the plans. “Already underway. We’ll set arcane traps—”
“—mechanical as well.”
“Wait, there are—”
“—yes. Mentioned in the book.” He had seen the diagrams. Not many, but enough.
“Bonus. Next.”
Augum flicked his fingers and telekinetically riffled to the pertinent page in the compendium. Leera gave him a double take upon spotting this feat, but said nothing. His eyes skimmed the section on primary Castle Defenses.
“Four must undergo immediate battlement ballista training,” he said. It was amazing how clear the language of the compendium suddenly appeared.
“Requirements?”
“Mere 1st degree.”
The quill sped along the page. “One per tower, each attacking the horde—”
“—excluding the bull demon.” Though there could be multiple.
“Hawthorne?”
“Hawthorne.”
“Noted. Next?”
“Five more undergo training on the moveable ballistae, plus one on well ballista.”
“ ‘Well ballista’? Another compendium discovery?”
“Summonable only by the keeper of the keys.”
“Requirements?”
“Same.”
“Noted. Next.”
“Watchtower. Top bombard. 5th degree requirement.”
“Got it. And Leland—”
“—there as well.”
“Got it.”
“Two battle healers—”
“—Jengo and Kiwi.”
“Young—”
“—and inexperienced.”
“No choice,” they said in unison.
Leera waved the quill. “Next.”
“Gauntlet. Assorted ambush posts in training cavern using teleportable ballistae, which we carry into place for now.” There was a section in the compendium that detailed exactly how the Keeper of the Keys could teleport—and fortify—the ballistae they had found in the armory, but only after achieving what it described as “Spirit Form”. Unfortunately, he had glossed over that particular section for now.
She gave a vague shake of her head as she furiously scribbled away, concluding with, “Further study required,” then made a circle motion with the peacock quill for him to move along.
“Multiple responsibilities for the scion bearer.” Evidently.
“For your study.”
“For my study.”
She bit her lip. “Now consider the siege.”
“First point of failure—”
“—would be the front doors. We’ll make plans. Multiple Seal castings. Speaking of—” Leera blindly pointed over her shoulder just as a servant tried the door handle.
“You sensed that?”
“I have ears.” She flashed a wry, Centarric smile. Her cheeks, sprinkled with fairy dust freckles, were infinitely kissable.
“Next will come the knock,” he said in a kind of trance.
“Next will come the knock,” and sure enough, someone knocked. “Unable!” Leera called before the knock even concluded.
“Come back in a little while, please,” Augum added, trading the slightly inefficient wording for clarity and kindness.
“Yes, Your Highnesses,” came the awkward reply.
“They were not expecting that,” Augum said.
“Focus, Prince. Next.”
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Focus, Prince.”
“Yes, Princess.” He understood he had more time than her due to the powerful influence of the scion. That explained her heightened need for efficiency. Already her eyes began to wander. She winced in an effort to remain focused.
Augum plowed on. “Bathing room as additional sanctuary for those not involved in the defense of the castle.”
The quill scratched across the page, but the writing was uncertain, hesitant. “Noted. Uh … next.”
“A plan to do this again—”
“—daily and with Bridget, or with anyone able to keep up. Next.”
“Aftermath—”
“—irrelevant.” She rubbed her eyes. “Time is running out.”
“Side effects?”
“Side effects.” Her eyes flicked to the scion. “But not for you.”
“But not for me.”
“Carry on when I fog over.”
“I will. On Centarro—”
“—strategic … strategic single battle castings for us—”
“—possibly multiple for me.”
“We must discover … exactly …” She stared at the quill a moment. “Exactly how many … castings you’re … able …” The quill fell from her hand.
“Agreed.” He placed a calming hand on hers and smiled warmly.
“Time.”
She melted into his lap, grabbing his arms and wrapping herself with them.
“Love you.”
“Love you.”
She slipped into the foggy side effects of Centarro, surrounded by a parchment mess of notes. Meanwhile, one of Augum’s hands continued to write furious notes, echoing a brain bursting with ideas. The other gently caressed her cheek, guiding her misty path like a shepherd.
A Focused Tenday
After supper, the trio’s studies continued on well into the night. Together they reread the letters, brainstormed, and contrived new plans. A late night Resistance meeting was then held until everybody was on board.
And so it went as time began to fly. The trio rose daily at the crack of dawn to the cry of an emaciated rooster they had taken to calling Preenie because he seemed to preen like a snob despite his ruffled appearance. That cry usually timed well with the curtains arcanely opening, for the castle was still set to training mode. An iron regimen then yanked them by their robe collars, one that began with physical outdoor exercise headed by a hawk-eyed Mrs. Hawthorne. All academy students were made to take part—but almost everyone, including Augum and Leera, grumbled.
“You believe we’re made to do stretches?” Leera uttered to Augum one particularly dew-ridden morning outside the castle. Her eyes were puffy and she was making a minimal effort at trying to touch her toes. Surrounding them were sleepy-faced academy students and castle residents.
“Tempted to pull rank,” she added. “Princesses shouldn’t have to stretch.”
Augum only smiled. “ ‘Pull rank’. That’s not how princesses talk either.”
Bridget shushed them from behind them, adding, “Set an example, you two,” to which Leera’s nose crinkled. Bridget was one of the few who took morning exercises seriously, along with a suddenly-keen-to-impress Brandon, who was usually found beside her looking very much like old Preenie.
After morning exercise they would stump to breakfast and engage in a comprehensive Resistance meeting, followed immediately by three hours of grueling degree training. The trio trained in the 6th degree with their new mentor, Jez, almost all of which was focused on three spells, Elemental Armor, Mute and Seal, leaving Object Invisibility for a future they had to earn. Jez, as quirky and fun as she could be, was nonetheless relentless.
