Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1)

by Sever Bronny

  “Now, the gesture is important so pay careful attention—both of your hands must pass over the object just so,” and she made her hands rigidly flat, guiding them over something imaginary, “and they must continue to pass over the object until the repair is complete, otherwise it will fail. As you concentrate on the repair at hand, see the cracks disappear in your mind. See two halves become one. Allow me to demonstrate.”

  She placed her hands over a fallen stone globe that once rested at the end of the marble staircase, and in a clear voice that echoed around the foyer, said, “Apreyo.” It immediately began to reform. Even little pieces from the other end of the foyer slid along the floor to rejoin it. The sphere then lifted off the ground and secured itself back onto the banister. Lastly, the cracks contracted and disappeared.

  “Amazing,” Leera whispered, walking over to the globe. “But Mrs. Stone—there’s a tiny piece missing here.”

  “That happens when the piece is stuck or not in range of the spell, which is approximately twenty paces.” She padded over to another broken globe. “All right, let us see you practice on this sphere. One at a time now.”

  And so they began, Mrs. Stone instructing them on some of the many subtleties of the spell and the importance of concentration, especially with larger objects. On more than one occasion, they had to jump out of the way as the sphere crashed back to the floor, smashing anew. The learning was slow as they were still recovering from the morning’s efforts. Thus, it came as no surprise that by the end of a grueling hour’s work, not one of them had successfully repaired it.

  Mrs. Stone’s lips pursed as she once again demonstrated a proper repair on the globe, before herding them to the castle entranceway they had cleared earlier.

  Leera groaned as she stared at the enormous piles of iron, wood and stone. Beyond, the sky quickly darkened. A biting wind swirled snow in miniature tornadoes.

  Mrs. Stone raised her chin expectantly. “You may begin.”

  The trio tried to get the stones to reform into the entranceway while the wind kept increasing and the cold deepened. By the time the wind threatened to steal planks from the pile, not one of them had managed to get anything to reform with the five-foot thick wall.

  “This is a vital lesson in concentration and belief!” Mrs. Stone’s robe flapped in the wind, ponytail lashing like a snake. “Without absolute conviction and concentration, you will fail! One day, you may have to perform such a spell in the din of battle, with plenty to distract you. Cold, hunger, wind, pain, attack—these are all things that you must learn to ignore as you focus. Even a momentary loss of concentration can result in spell failure!”

  Augum recalled using Telekinesis at Hangman’s Rock and how, despite a brutal gale, he had to still his mind in order to find the rope. Staggering for balance, he tried to apply that lesson here. It was futile though—he was simply too tired, the spell too new.

  Snow began blowing sideways, forcing them to avert their faces and draw their hoods. Augum wanted to keep going, to show Mrs. Stone they were capable, but his legs wanted to buckle; and now, glancing at the oncoming storm, he knew they had run out of time.

  “Oh for mercy’s sake—” Mrs. Stone marched over to the rock pile and, facing the wind, spread her hands. “APREYO!”

  The rocks immediately began rolling, bouncing and vaulting back into the entranceway. The trio had to jump aside to avoid being bowled over. They watched in helplessness as the hole in the castle rapidly reformed into massive arched double doors. The rock pile consumed, Mrs. Stone strode over to the wood and iron piles and repeated the process, tackling both at once. Planks, splinters, hinges and nails flew back into the doorway, reforming like a floating puzzle. Her concentration was perfect, never wavering from the task. Upon completing the repair, she flicked her wrist at one of the doors. It flew open and she marched inside, leaving them lying in the snow, gaping.

  Finally, they picked themselves up and shambled in, working together to close the heavy door against the gale. It clanged shut, locking with an ancient iron bolt that Augum slid in place. They exchanged looks. Nobody wanted to face what was surely going to be a very stern lecture. Steeling himself, Augum was the first to step into the dark warmth of the foyer.

  As expected, Mrs. Stone stood waiting, hands behind her back, brows furrowed. Only after they lined up before her, barely able to see in the dim light, did she flick her wrist. Out popped the floating lightning sphere.

  “Shyneo,” everyone said, not advanced enough to do the spell wordlessly. Their hands barely lit up, glowing weakly. Augum’s flickered and extinguished almost immediately. He did not bother relighting it.

  Mrs. Stone’s face was hard as steel. “How eager you three are to surrender. I am disappointed. I daresay I expected greater … fortitude.”

  The trio only stared at their feet as Leera’s light flickered out. A moment later, so did Bridget’s, leaving only the cold sheen from Mrs. Stone’s orb. She merely watched them.

  Augum felt the prickle of shame; the silence was worse than the lecture.

  “I am leaving the castle for the evening,” she finally said. “I expect you to make up for your lack of tenacity by working extra hard. You are to read up on the details of the Repair spell then spend at least two hours practicing it. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Stone.”

  She extinguished her light and marched through the foyer doors, arcanely slamming them behind her. The noise made them flinch. A moment later, one of the newly reformed outer doors opened and closed with a dull thud that reverberated through the castle.

  When the echoes died out, all three collapsed in the near total darkness.

  “I’m sorry, I should have tried harder,” Augum said, staring up at the dim outline of the ceiling.

  Bridget flopped to her side. “Me too …”

  Leera gasped like an old dying woman. “Not me, I was done for …”

  The wind roared distantly, muffled by thick walls. Suddenly Augum did not feel much like exploring.

  Bridget sat up. “Shall we make a fire and study?”

  Leera exhaled a tedious breath. “Might as well …”

  Encounter

  The girl’s fireplace was out of wood so the trio scrounged some from the other rooms. When it burned bright, Bridget brought out the ornate tome from under the bed and the three of them read up on the Repair spell, discussing its finer points. They then read the entire section titled Concentration: Beginning Basics, as well as Introduction to Runes and Runewords, as per Mrs. Stone’s suppertime suggestion. After two solid hours of study and discussion, they felt they were ready to start practicing.

  Bridget closed the book and slid it back under the bed. “Now the only question is on what …”

  Augum’s brain had not fully recovered from earlier arcane efforts, and now with all this studying it felt like mush. His thoughts returned to Mrs. Stone. Where had she gone this time?

  The windows shuddered from a particularly strong gust. Outside, the snow blew horizontally.

  Leera gave the coals a stir with a fire-iron. “We could go upstairs and find something to repair, or explore the second floor, or even the rest of this floor; it’d be neat to find the throne room.”

  Bridget looked to Augum. “What do you think?”

  “Well, if we go down, there’s definitely lots to repair, but if we stay on this floor or go up, we can at least keep an eye on the storm while we practice.”

  “Good idea,” Leera said. “Not quite in the mood for the lower castle anyway.”

  Bridget stood up and clapped her hands together. “Up it is then.”

  Leera’s sharp brows rose. “Ooo, maybe we’ll even find the king and queen’s chambers.”

  “—or treasure,” Augum added, imagination ablaze. “Let’s get my sword and go.” Together they retrieved his blade from his room, arcanely lit their palms, and began their way upstairs. Windows rattled as they crept up the dusty marble steps. Shadows played long and
sharp to the sway of their hands, their lights weaker than usual due to arcane exhaustion.

  Leera glanced at the rattling window between the third and fourth floor. “Storm’s getting worse.”

  Augum grinned. “Looks like a blizzard.”

  “You’re enjoying this too much.”

  Bridget picked up a small scrap of parchment from a stair. “Hey, think the repair spell works on paper?”

  Leera found another scrap by Augum’s foot. “Don’t know, can’t remember the book saying anything about it.”

  Augum also found a piece and handed it to Bridget. “Only one way to find out.”

  Leera frowned. “Don’t see many pieces to work with here …”

  “So who wants to try first?” Bridget asked.

  “You go ahead,” Leera said, “it’s your find.”

  “All right.” Bridget extinguished her palm, darkening the landing. She squinted trying to make out what was on the paper. “Wish I knew how to chronocast …”

  “‘Chronocast’?” Augum asked.

  “It’s when you cast one spell and then another while the original spell is still in effect.” She kneeled, piling the scraps on the marble floor. “It’s something you learn as you go along.”

  “Oh. I thought it meant casting two spells at the same time.”

  “That’s impossible—”

  “No it’s not,” Leera said. “It’s called simulcasting, and it’s extremely difficult but not impossible. From what I understand, there are two rules—the first is you have to be extremely talented, and the second is that it can only be done using an elemental spell and a standard spell. You can’t just cast two standard spells or two elemental spells at once.”

  Bridget’s lips thinned. “Never heard of it—”

  “Well it’s real, Mrs. Stone can do it; my mum told me a story about it from when she was at the academy.”

  Bridget made a dismissive gesture. “She was just telling tales.”

  “Wasn’t a tale, Bridge, I’m telling you, Mum saw it.”

  Augum leaned up against the cool marble banister. “What’s the story?”

  “It happened near the end of the Narsinian war,” Leera began quietly, “when Narsus’ armies marched on Blackhaven. His soldiers raided the academy, killing a bunch of teachers and students, even though Narsus promised to stay away from there. Well as you can imagine, Mrs. Stone—who was headmistress at the time—got very angry; Mum says you should have seen the look on her face—” Leera paused for dramatic effect.

  Augum made an impatient motion with his hand. “Then what happened—?”

  “Mrs. Stone told the students to hide while she made her way outside. Everyone took shelter in classrooms, but Mum managed to peek through the curtains. Well, along with a whole bunch of soldiers, there were these two powerful Narsinian warlocks there, one of whom graduated from the academy. Mrs. Stone just strode right up to them. What happened next is almost unbelievable, even Mum said so—and she saw it with her own eyes. Anyway, Mrs. Stone paralyzed both warlocks and simultaneously cast chain lightning on the soldiers. Those two sorcerers were forced to watch their troops sizzle like chicken, and there was nothing they could do.”

  “But that’s crazy—” Bridget said. “Chain Lightning’s like a 13th degree elemental spell and Paralyze Group—a what, 14th degree standard spell—?”

  “That’s not the end of it—after the soldiers were killed, she let the two warlocks go just to send Narsus a message. She must have known what she was doing because it wasn’t long until Narsus himself came with a lot more soldiers, and we all know what happened next.”

  “She killed Narsus in the dungeons below the academy,” Augum said.

  “And now we know which spell she used,” Leera said. “That off-the-books one she used to collapse her cave. I wonder if she simulcasted against him.”

  “Dare you to ask her,” he said.

  “Forget it, I like my head where it is.”

  Bridget contemplated the scraps of parchment at her feet. “Hmm, well if your mother saw it … Maybe we can ask Mrs. Stone indirectly about what happened sometime.”

  “Indirectly—?”

  “Yeah, by starting a conversation on chronocasting, then ask her if it’s possible to simulcast. Maybe she’ll tell us that way.”

  “She won’t,” Augum said with a shake of the head.

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s Mrs. Stone—she hates talking about herself. But if you insist, you can be the one to ask.”

  Bridget’s eyes flashed. “Maybe I will then—”

  A silence passed as she fiddled with the scraps of parchment while Augum stood red-faced. What had just happened? Why was Bridget angry with him?

  “You want to try repairing this then?” Leera asked in a delicate voice.

  “Ugh, might as well—” Bridget arranged her hands just right and sat quiet, mustering her concentration.

  Leera gave Augum a look that said don’t worry about it.

  “APREYO!” but nothing happened. Bridget sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Augum.”

  “Don’t even give it another thought.”

  “This whole thing is just so … trying and so new … and after everything that’s happened …”

  “I understand.” He smiled.

  Bridget smiled back, straightened her robe and splayed out her hands again. “Apreyo.” The papers moved, turning this way and that, coming together to create some kind of picture. A few more pieces flew from above and below the landing, until the parchment appeared half-complete. Upon finishing, she plopped on the marble floor, pale from the effort.

  Leera leaned forward. “It’s a map!”

  “Good job, Bridge,” Augum said, genuinely impressed.

  “Thanks.” She picked up the map, stood and inspected it. “Looks like some kind of room, but I can’t make out anything else; missing pieces must be out of range.”

  Leera’s eyes brightened. “Could be a treasure room …!”

  “We need to find the rest though,” Augum said. “Let’s try casting the spell in different places.”

  Bridget folded the map and tucked it away. “Good idea. We could take turns, it’d be great practice. Let’s go.”

  They made their way up another flight of steps to the howl of a very strong gust; Augum swore the floor actually shook. He had a vision of something large stomping in the bowels of the castle. Suddenly he was glad they had chosen to go up instead of down—what if they had been in the cellar and lost their light? He thought of the crypt and shivered, imagining a bony hand on his shoulder.

  The fourth floor appeared much like the third, but with refuse strewn about everywhere, from torn scraps of parchment to pieces of furniture.

  “I bet that behind those doors is that room with the round window,” Augum said, pointing at a pair of oaken doors that, if they were one floor below, would have opened into Mrs. Stone’s room. He turned the handles; the doors creaked as they swung inwards. An enormous round stained-glass window greeted them, allowing them to look out into the blizzard.

  “If the castle was a one-eyed giant, that would be its eye,” Leera said.

  “Sir Westwood used to say castles had a spirit, each with its own unique personality.”

  “Let’s just hope this one isn’t evil then.”

  They exchanged looks before inspecting the room.

  On the ground was even more debris—broken furniture and bottles, torn spines of books, ripped scrolls, shattered glass, as well as copious amounts of loose or torn parchment. Bookshelves from floor to ceiling covered all wall space and a thick pile of dust coated everything.

  Bridget shook her head. “Must have been quite the library. What a loss …”

  “Look at all this,” Leera said, picking up scrap after scrap of torn parchment. “This would take years to repair!”

  “Imagine the secrets these books hold though,” Augum said.

  Bridget unfolded the m
ap. “At least it’s a great place to practice.”

  “Whose turn is it?” Leera asked.

  Bridget put the map down onto a clearing she made with her foot. “Augum—want to try?”

  “Guess so.” He crouched, closed his eyes, and spent time envisioning the map repairing itself. Then he flattened his palms out over it. “Apreyo.”

  The map fluttered while a few more pieces flew from the pile, attaching to the parchment. Just when they thought that was the last of them, they heard rustling from underneath a broken desk. Bridget and Leera quickly pushed it aside, allowing one last piece to shoot out.

  “It’s almost complete,” Leera said. “Nice work, Aug.”

  Augum slumped, dizzy. “I thought for sure I was going to lose concentration when you two moved the desk. That’s a tough piece of arcanery.”

  “It sure is,” Bridget absently replied, inspecting the map alongside Leera. “Where do you suppose this passageway starts?”

  “Has to be somewhere in the castle,” Leera said, “but we’ll need this piece here to know exactly where.”

  Augum crowded close. “Think it’s underground, the walls look rocky—but yeah, we need that piece. So, do we want to practice some more in here or move on?”

  Bridget put away the map and glanced around. “It’ll be difficult, but let’s at least try to repair some of the furniture,” and so they took turns casting Repair, advising each other on how to get it just right. They also took turns casting Shine to conserve arcane energy. Meanwhile, the blizzard raged on, caking the giant window with snow.

  After two hours, they had managed to repair the desk, two library tables and eight chairs. They had even cleared the debris off to one side.

  “That should make the room a bit more livable,” Augum said, wincing from an arcane-induced headache.

  Leera collapsed into a chair, dusting her hands. “Now all it needs are some books … who wants to spend the next hundred years repairing a shelf’s worth?”

  Augum snorted.

  Bridget approached the window. “Must have been a great place to study, especially with the view.” She recoiled as a sudden gust rattled the glass.