by Sever Bronny
“Aug, are you able to keep watch on their movements with that vision power while we sneak up on them?” Bridget whispered.
“I can try.”
The trio crept on. Augum did what he could, but he was a total novice with the strange vision power the tuning afforded. Yet he sensed its potential and couldn’t wait to tap into the rest of those ancient abilities.
They soon reached a fork.
“Did the soldiers turn left back to their camp or walk on around the castle?” Bridget whispered.
Augum closed his eyes and concentrated on seeing. He felt his palm, where the blue key was imprinted, tingle. The scion, floating by his ear and protected by that same shimmering chameleonic cloak, buzzed a little louder. He soon saw a vision of the soldiers talking amongst a larger group.
“Back at the camp,” he said, opening his eyes and feeling a tinge of pride. He was beginning to control the tuning, at least a portion of it.
“All right, we go in,” Leera said. “Careful now.”
Augum nodded, then realized they couldn’t see him nod. “Right behind you,” he said instead.
The trio dipped into the forest, prowling along the path. As they neared the camp, forms took shape. There were fifteen black-armored soldiers in full Dreadnought plate. Each held a burning sword. They stood in a wide circle around two conversing women who minded a fire, one in the same full armor and sword, the other in a black robe and with a face that more resembled a spider’s than a human’s. She possessed two large black eyes flanked by smaller sets of beady eyes, a bald head with a few sprouts of thick tentacle-like hairs, and two clipper mandibles—all indicating she was not just a necromancer, but a Revenant. An Exot ring, worn on a fuzzy hand, caught the light of the fire. The sight of a spider as a person was so revolting Augum swore he saw both girls flinch despite being chameleonic.
The trio took shelter behind the trunk of a large pine that creaked in the wind. The Chameleon spell had allowed them to prowl close enough that they could make out the voices above the wind.
“… allay those suspicions, Lieutenant,” the woman with the spider face said in a raspy voice, poking a skewered rat into the fire. “His Divine Lordship has set numerous traps and alarms upon the castle. If they came through, he would have known.”
“But that’s exactly my point, Commander Predis,” the woman soldier that was her lieutenant replied in a youthful voice. “The castle has been razed—”
“—along with almost every town and village between here and Blackhaven, Lieutenant. And certainly beyond.”
“Yes, indeed, but during the razing would those alarms not have triggered His Divine Lordship’s attention?”
Commander Predis removed the rat from the fire and mowed down on it with her mandibles. Her lieutenant looked away.
“Do you find this offensive, Lieutenant?”
“Just not used to it, Commander.”
“And your choice will be?”
“Bear, Commander. I shall be a great bear when His Divine Lordship promotes me to a revenant.”
“In answer to your unspoken query, how do you know His Divine Lordship has not been made aware of the razing? How do you know he has not seen it with his own eyes and dismissed it? Bandits and roaming undead are beneath his attention, Lieutenant, and one such as he has no time for such trivial matters.”
“You are wise, Commander.” The lieutenant slung her burning sword onto her shoulder, where it sat harmlessly, the flames rippling in the wind.
“That is why I have advanced faster than you. You are a slow fool, and have always been so.”
“I am a slow fool, Commander.”
“Who cannot seem to control her own squad.”
“I am up to ten. I just cannot do all fifteen yet.”
“And when you are sent to the front, you will need to command thirty at a time, or more.”
“Perhaps I should practice.”
“Perhaps indeed. We can stay here for the night while you train, then move south in the morning.”
“I am grateful, Commander.”
As the spider-faced commander finished her meal, the lieutenant unslung her blade from her shoulder and adjusted the grip on her Legion shield. She turned to face the circle of soldiers and called out, “Reavers, hear my call!” but only ten spun to face her, leaving five still with their backs turned.
Augum gave each of the girls a tap, indicating a withdrawal, and the trio backtracked along the path.
“Except for the two women, they’re all armored reavers,” Leera whispered in disbelieving tones back at the fork.
“Just like Occulus’ army,” Augum replied.
“I’ll run and inform them it’s safe to move,” Bridget said.
“We’ll keep careful watch.”
“Good luck, Bridge,” Leera added.
Augum and Leera watched as a shimmering chameleonic Bridget disappeared back down the path toward the front of the castle, then they took up hidden positions by the fork to keep watch. And while they did, Augum continued to experiment with the tuning visions. He glimpsed faces of fear and resolve, faces that waited in the deep silence of the castle, whether they be students manning key defensive positions, or Ordinaries readying to make the run to the bathing rooms. Soon, he saw the first group depart the castle, all while keeping tabs on a Legion lieutenant struggling to command a squad of reavers.
In the Open
Augum and Leera sat in windy silence until his arcane tuning vision allowed him to see that all groups had been safely escorted to the bathing rooms.
“Time to go,” he whispered to Leera. Just as they got up, the Chameleon enchantment flickered and then dissipated, rendering them quite visible to anyone watching.
“Don’t worry,” Augum said to Leera upon seeing the look of alarm on her face. He tapped his temple. “No one’s watching.”
They nonetheless quickly moved back to the castle entranceway, where they were giddily greeted by Brandon, Mrs. Hawthorne, and Jez.
“Everyone’s accounted for except for Elizabeth and Bridget,” Mrs. Hawthorne said.
Jez waved idly. “And they can take care of themselves.”
“Nice to have something go right for a change,” Leera added.
“Summers, back to your station,” Mrs. Hawthorne said.
Brandon hesitated, no doubt wanting to wait for Bridget.
“She’ll be fine,” Leera said.
“Right. See you then,” and he slipped back into the now empty foyer, soon to take up position in his battlement.
Meanwhile, a pounding headache had formed for Augum, indicating the tuning insights actually drained his arcane stamina in a big way. He resolved to give his energies a break after Elizabeth and Bridget’s return, and continued to monitor the exterior as best he could. Like a bird overhead, he watched as two figures slipped out from the hidden grass-covered trap doors, before making their way along the forest edge toward the castle. He flipped arcane views to watch the camp—only to find most of the camp gone, including the lieutenant. He frantically searched about using his arcane eye, finally discovering the lieutenant and a bunch of reavers on a training patrol—and heading directly for Bridget and Elizabeth.
The two groups would spot each other in heartbeats. There was only one option, and that was to try to communicate to the girls using the speaking ability that came with tuning.
Except he had never tried it before.
Extinguishing his vision, he amassed all his concentration, following the remembered instructions on how to use the scion to tap into certain portions of the castle and bailey … and felt his brain want to burst from the effort.
But making speech was much like trying to force a word through lockjaw while having no breath left in the lungs. “Hide … now …” He finally managed to wheeze before his consciousness crashed back into his body. He was disoriented and tripped, smacking the ground hard. For some reason, his eyes were open yet he only saw darkness. And his breathing came in rapid bursts
as if he had sprinted a league. It seemed it was immensely difficult to force tuning.
The others quickly helped him up. He felt something dribble from his nose and curl over his lip. His tongue soon tasted blood.
“What just happened?” Mrs. Hawthorne asked quickly. “Why is your nose suddenly bleeding?”
“Elizabeth and Bridget … headed straight for Legion. Can’t … see … blind.” His head felt like someone was vindictively jumping up and down on it. He had pushed his tuning boundaries and now wouldn’t be able to use those powers for a little while. Even with the scion, the arcane stamina needed was immense for such an ancient and unpracticed ability.
“I’ll get them,” Mrs. Hawthorne said. There was the sound of a door opening and closing.
Meanwhile, Augum bid Leera to allow him to slide to the floor against the wall, where he delicately held his throbbing head. That had been excessively difficult indeed.
Leera slid down beside him, dabbed at his nose with a cloth, cleaned his bloody chin, and placed his head on her shoulder, caressing it gently and whispering, “You’ll be all right, my love, and so will they. Hawthorne’ll get them.”
He hoped so, else everything could untangle awful quick. If the Legion showed up before the tuning was complete, every offensive and defensive position would be visible and thus prone to attack by Sparkstone. It would be a slaughter.
At last, his vision steadily began returning in time to see Jez crouch down before him. “Heck of a power, Stone, even if it’s only limited to the castle grounds. Obviously ancient arcanery. Warlocks in this day and age don’t even know how to craft those kinds of enchantments anymore.”
She adjusted to have a seat on the other side of Augum. Something about her reminded him of his old rugged guardian Sir Westwood, the casualness, the relaxed body language. All that she lacked was a wheat straw in her mouth.
“Interestingly,” Jez went on with languid hand gestures, “the knowledge is written down. The problem is nuance. There are no living warlocks able to cast the spells and thus mentor and interpret the texts. It’s a real problem in arcaneology.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “One your great-grandmother was known for tackling back when she was Headmistress of the Academy.”
After a thoughtful pause, Augum smiled. “Nice of you to keep my mind off things.”
Jez pinched his cheek. “Clever monkey.”
The door creaked open and in slipped Mrs. Hawthorne, Bridget, and Elizabeth. The latter immediately closed the door behind her and rested her back against it, expelling a long breath in relief. She was pale with beads of sweat on her brow.
“Bridget has some amazing sixth sense,” Elizabeth said, eyes on the ceiling. “Saved our lives.”
“Certainly a close one,” Mrs. Hawthorne said, primping her beehive bun. “Beaumont, take your battle station while Ms. Terse and I disperse battle rations.”
“Yes, Mrs. Hawthorne.”
Augum rubbed his eyes as Mrs. Hawthorne, Jez and Elizabeth left. He needed to check where Sparkstone was. He reached for his belt only to realize he had forgotten the rod on top of his bed.
“Shoot,” he said.
“What is it?” Leera asked.
“Forgot the divining rod.”
“You mean you aren’t carrying it with you?”
Augum was going respond when Bridget jerked as if having taken a fright.
“You all right?” he asked her.
“Fine, bathing rooms are hidden well—hidden naturally—so they should all be fine there.” She had talked fast, eyes zipping about. Suddenly she looked past Augum’s shoulder and jumped again.
Augum looked over but saw nothing. Then it hit him. “You cast Cron!”
Bridget swallowed. “Had to. Otherwise they’d have seen us. Rather, they did see us.”
“But did you not hear my voice—”
“—too late. Heard it just as they came into view. There was a fight and I eventually had to cast Cron. Even if we had won against the lieutenant’s squad, that necromancer would easily have found out and informed Sparkstone, and we can’t have him showing up before you tune to the castle.”
“We should have stolen the Exot ring,” Leera said. “Like with the others.”
Bridget rapidly shook her head. “And if that happened again in this area, Sparkstone would immediately know what was happening and teleport over.”
“Right, it’d be a disaster,” Leera muttered.
“How many heartbeats?” Augum asked, watching Bridget carefully. Was it him, or was she the tiniest bit taller? He worried about her. She had a great deal on her shoulders and, like him, didn’t always handle stress well. Leera was the only one capable of easily shrugging things off.
Bridget flinched when she saw something over Leera’s shoulder.
“How many heartbeats?” he pressed.
Bridget placed both hands over her mouth and blurted through them, “About a hundred and twenty.”
Augum and Leera did the same gesture and yelped, eyes wide.
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s complicated. I had no choice. First reaction was to hide, but they saw us and we had a big fight on our hands. Except their Dreadnought armor is partially immune to our arcanery. And inside that armor were reavers. They were tough. Hawthorne showed up a few heartbeats late and took a bunch of them out, but by then I realized we lost the lieutenant, who had to have run to the necromancer, who would in turn immediately notify Sparkstone. So now I had to cast Cron, going back to the moment before you told us to hide, which we did. Hawthorne showed up late but by then the Legion had walked right by.”
Augum’s hands drifted to his face. He watched her through his fingers. “Bridge, that’s eight months. Eight. Months.” Every heartbeat aged them two days. Every. Single. Heartbeat. That was why they had been so careful in only casting Cron for two heartbeats at a time during the last tenday. Now Bridget would be facing horrible shadows while facing the biggest fight of her life.
Bridget rubbed her arms. “I know, my bones hurt like you wouldn’t believe.”
“And the shadows?” Leera pressed.
Bridget swallowed. “I can handle them.” But the true answer revealed itself in her constantly flicking eyes.
Augum shook his head. “We postpone a day, maybe two. Anyway, I need the time to get more acquainted with the tuning.”
Bridget shook her head as well. “No, we can’t, you know we can’t.” She raised a single finger. “The fires.” Raised another. “No food.” A third. “The prophecy.” And a fourth. “We need the opportunity that Legion squad has presented us with. Any other way to reach the Legion would be deemed suspicious.”
“She’s right, they’ll leave in the morning,” Leera said. “Besides, we’re ready. I feel it.”
“And every day that passes more people die out there,” Bridget added, hands wringing as her eyes continued to flick about.
Augum felt nothing but uncertainty. “But the shad—”
“—hey, I said I can handle them,” Bridget repeated.
Augum ran both hands through his hair. “Fine. Fine.” Damn it, he was actually angry, but didn’t know why.
“How much time is that for each of us now?” Leera asked. “Aging-wise. I know I’m at around four months.”
“Ten months,” Bridget chimed in.
“Eleven here,” Augum said. “But the scion reset me.” He flicked at the door. “Let’s just get the divining rod. And we’re not letting you out of our sights.”
Bridget nodded. “Then we come guard the doors.”
Inferno
“Look out the window,” Leera said as the trio reached the floor with their rooms and terrace.
Augum glanced up at the ancient stained glass window depicting a serene, hairless Leyan. Through it, he could see a dark unnaturally crimson sky thick with haze. The castle itself whistled from the wind. Distant windows rattled, doors creaked in subtle breezes, candles flickered.
“Ominous,” Leera whispered,
hand reaching for Augum’s. He took it and squeezed. The anxious butterfly feeling returned to his stomach. They would soon be in for the fight of their lives. All that remained was waiting out the hourglass until he fully tuned to the castle. It could happen any hour, or sometime in the night, or maybe tomorrow. Then they stood a chance. A small one, but a chance nonetheless. However, without that tuning and the ancient arcane protections that came with it, the castle was susceptible to the fires.
Augum led the girls to his room. Inside, the two terrace doors rattled against gusts, the windows aglow with a pink hue. He snatched the divining rod from his bed and stuffed it into his belt opposite the Slow Time scroll, then did an equipment check in case he needed anything else up here. After concluding, his gaze remained on the captured Exot ring, fished out from a pocket.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Leera said, adjusting the chain of his mother’s locket around his neck, which had gotten snagged on his Arinthian armor. “Worth a try.”
Bridget suddenly dove in front of them, shouting, “NO!” only to look about confusedly. “Where’d she go? Where’d that vile witch go!”
“Fight it,” Leera said. “She’s not real. Just illusion.”
Bridget’s gaunt face was beaded with sweat. “You don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s more than real … I see you react too. I don’t … I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t.”
Leera took her hands in her own. “We’re real and we’re fine. Look at me.” She took a gentle hold of Bridget’s jaw and looked into her eyes. “We’re real and we’re fine. Fight it. Look past what you know is false.”
Bridget nodded quickly, yet her eyes continued to dart about. It was evident that such a high number of heartbeats within Annocronomus Tempusari had afflicted her with all-too-real malevolent shadows. She had pushed her boundaries with the spell … and it had cost her.
Leera did not let go of one of Bridget’s hands as she guided her outside to the terrace with Augum.
