Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2)

by Sever Bronny

  The warmth was worth it, he told himself.

  The trio then hurried to the iron gate, the girls burdened with three folded blankets each. They soon spotted a group of seven soldiers patrolling the outskirts of the ruins, black armor glinting in the sun. The soldiers seemed more preoccupied with a conversation they were having than being on the lookout, something Augum planned to take full advantage of.

  “Leera, mind grabbing the map out?” he asked quietly, kneeling by the gate. She tugged at the rucksack and produced the sheepskin, splaying it out before them.

  He traced with a finger. “All right, here’s what I’m thinking—we follow the river east a bit then head up north and cut through Blackwood here.” He tapped the bony trees.

  Leera bit her lip. “I wish there was a way to arcanely message Mrs. Stone …”

  “Must be possible,” Bridget said. “Although … I’ve never seen a warlock deliver a message arcanely. Come to think of it, they all used messengers or heralds.”

  “Yeah and they didn’t mention anything at the academy about it,” Leera said. She nodded at the patrolling soldiers. “Let’s just steal their horses.”

  “I think that’s too dangerous,” Bridget said.

  “But we can’t race his father to Mrs. Stone without them.”

  The girls turned to him.

  “It is risky to steal their horses,” he began, “but the way I see it, it’s only a matter of time until the Blade of Sorrows returns with the dogs. I think we need to put as much distance between them and us as possible. That means horses. And for sure there’s no way we’d catch up to my father, who already has a head start, without them. Besides, we can take the river.”

  “I suppose taking the river would eliminate our scent,” Bridget said. “Make it hard for the dogs. All right … let’s do it.”

  Leera rolled up the map and stuffed it back into the rucksack. “Now we just have to find where they tied up their horses.”

  They waited until the soldiers passed from sight behind the ruins before sneaking around the opposite side of Evergray Tower, using tracks made by the guards.

  The sun warmed Augum’s face, something he had missed in Ley. Every branch on every tree wore thick coats of snow. Other than the trickle of the river and a very light breeze, it was winter quiet.

  There behind the tower, they spotted the soldiers tending to their horses. They waited until the soldiers returned to their patrol back around the opposite side of the tower. As soon as the soldiers were out of sight, he and the girls crept up on the horses, some of which whinnied.

  “Relax and stare at the ground,” he said to the girls. He made calm sounds, trying to appear unconcerned, something Sir Westwood had taught him. There were nine horses in all, two of which were the chestnut Bridget named Spirit and the gray he had ridden. The rest were warhorses, powerful chargers that overshadowed the two palfreys. They decided to ride as before, the girls on Spirit, Augum on the cloud-gray.

  They snagged a nearby sack of oats and a waterskin and tied each to one of the palfreys, before quietly leading them away from the chargers, who still whinnied. For a moment, Augum contemplated shooing the warhorses away before realizing how stupid of an idea that was. The horses wouldn’t go far and were likely trained enough to be called by their owners. As it was, it wouldn’t be long before the soldiers returned.

  He climbed atop his horse, adjusting the rucksack. The girls secured the blankets and mounted their palfrey, Leera taking the reins, Bridget holding her waist.

  They cantered down to the river, but it immediately became clear walking along the edge was impossible. The blizzard had frozen the water almost up to the center. If they tried navigating that narrow watery chasm, they risked freezing to death in its depths.

  Suddenly a distant cry of alarm went up.

  “They’re on to us—” Leera said. “Go—go—go!”

  He kicked the flanks of his horse and jolted forward. It was now a race to get out of there. He only hoped the palfreys were faster, though he knew the chargers probably had better stamina.

  “We’re too slow, cut through the trees!” Leera called.

  He turned left over the bank and into a sparsely wooded plain, pushing the palfrey to a full gallop, something that was dangerous in snow this high. The horse could stumble and send him flying.

  “They’re cutting across!” Bridget yelled.

  He glanced over his shoulder and spotted the Black Guard soldiers darting between the trees at full gallop, plumes of snow billowing behind them. He counted six, the seventh probably sent after the Blade of Sorrows’ party. Their powerful chargers had the advantage in deep snow and were gaining fast.

  The strap of the rucksack cut deeper into his shoulder with every bounce. Branches scratched at his face as he ducked under trees rather than going around them, hoping the size of the warhorses prevented such strategy. It proved beneficial, knocking one Black Guardsman off his horse in a spectacular explosion of snow. Five still kept pace about thirty horse-lengths behind. One in particular, a man standing on his stirrups with a long-handled double-edged axe on his back, gained rapidly, leaving the rest struggling to catch up.

  “Faster, Spirit!” Bridget called. “Faster—!”

  Augum looked back beyond the flailing hair of the girls. The soldier was furiously whipping his horse with his reins. The rider was doing a sprint, something he and the girls could not afford, needing the palfreys to go long distance.

  Twenty horse lengths.

  Ten.

  Five.

  The charger foamed at the mouth, looking as mad as its rider.

  Augum ducked under a particularly low-hanging series of branches, hoping the soldier would have to go around. Unfortunately, it accomplished nothing except knocking the man’s helmet off, releasing long graying hair surrounding a large bald spot.

  The Legionnaire threw up a battle cry and unsheathed his axe.

  “Faster, Leera!” Bridget squealed.

  Augum slowed his horse and let Spirit overtake. The soldier was now only one horse-length behind, still standing in his stirrups, axe raised.

  “Die, insurgent!” The soldier swung his axe with a grunt.

  Augum raised his arm just in time. The axe smashed into a coiled lightning shield that disappeared almost immediately. The impact almost knocked him off his horse and caused the soldier to lose a few paces.

  “I’m okay, keep going!” Augum shouted as Bridget turned back, terror on her face.

  The pack of riders fell further and further behind. If he could only knock this soldier off, they might have a chance …

  The rider roared again and pushed forward, his poor charger flaring its nostrils, gushing rapid-fire plumes of steam.

  Augum didn’t know if he could summon the Shield a second time—he had to think of something else.

  He cut the rider off, forcing him to his right side. “SHYNEO!” he called, simultaneously summoning his 1st degree lightning ring.

  “A single ring, ha!” called the soldier.

  “It isn’t for you—” Augum replied, pointing his electrified palm at the charger, who instantly veered aside. The balding Legionnaire flew forward with a yelp, sending up a blast of snow.

  Bridget and Leera shouted a cry of victory as Augum raced to catch up.

  School on Horseback

  The soldiers were now well behind and slowing, probably betting on the stamina of the chargers. The trio reduced speed to a canter only after passing a creek that, along with the other streams and rivers, made up the Creeping Fingers. As the day wore on and the soldiers disappeared out of view, the trio slowed to a trot and rode side-by side.

  “Spirit’s tired,” Bridget said, patting the horse’s flank.

  “We can’t stop to give them a rest,” Leera said.

  “I know … poor thing.”

  “Anyone hungry? Augum asked, removing his rucksack and handing out biscuit beef, dried cherries and journey bread.

  After eating, they e
ach wrapped themselves in a layer of blankets. Augum wished he still had the wolf hide coat the girls made for him. His hands were already freezing on the reins and his turnshoes barely provided any protection.

  The trees thinned and soon disappeared altogether as they found themselves crossing a gently rolling snow-covered plain, lit up by late-afternoon winter sun. The sky yielded only a smattering of clouds. He felt lucky there was only a breeze, as Solian plains tended to rake the land with howling gales.

  “That has to be Blackwood,” he said, eyeing a gangly forest in the distance. He dug out the map and double-checked their position, planning to enter the forest’s east end. He still hoped to lose their tail in the wood, though they had yet to think of a clever way to do this. The snow was just too deep to cover their tracks.

  “What do you think Mrs. Stone is doing right now?” Bridget asked, head resting on Leera’s shoulder.

  “Probably reading by a hearth, or snoozing,” he replied. The idea of a cozy fire appealed greatly at that moment.

  “Hey, Aug, mind digging out that yellow book on elements for me?” Bridget asked. He withdrew it from the rucksack and handed it over. Bridget started flipping through the burnt pages. “Hmm, looks like it’s only on the lesser elemental spells.”

  Augum went through the spell levels in his mind. The first five degrees were called lesser spells, the next five mid-range spells, the five after that greater spells, and the last five were Spells of Legend. Mrs. Stone knew all twenty degrees, whereas the trio only toiled on their second.

  Bridget started repeatedly lighting up her palm with Shine, the glowing green ivy curling around her fingers and wrist.

  “What’re you up to?” Leera asked.

  “Says here I can latch onto things with my vine. Would have been useful to know hanging outside a certain tower.”

  “So it’s kind of like when I shock something with my Shine spell—” he said.

  “It says it’s called an ‘extension’.”

  Leera lit her palm, inspecting the watery blue light. “Extension. Hmm, wonder what mine does …”

  “Let me check.” Bridget flipped through the pages. “Sorry, Lee—burned away.”

  “Bah …” Leera extinguished her hand while Bridget relit hers, trying to manipulate it in various ways.

  “All right, this is hard,” she conceded after multiple failed attempts to entwine the reins.

  “You have to practice,” he said, remembering how hard Mrs. Stone drove him to succeed and how hard he had to drive himself.

  “Now you know why you’re supposed to be paired up with an experienced warlock in your element,” Bridget said. “It’s what the whole apprenticeship thing is based on.”

  “Does it say anything else about mine?” he asked.

  “Nothing you don’t already know—it can administer a small shock, and when you attain a high level, you can create a floating sphere of Shine that follows you. Though it does say, ‘There may be uses as yet undiscovered depending on the warlock wielding the spell.’ ”

  “Probably have to attain mastery or something to do that,” Leera said. “Like Mrs. Stone.”

  “What about the 2nd degree,” he pressed, “what elemental spell are we supposed to learn next?”

  “Sorry, Aug, I keep forgetting you hadn’t gone to the academy. The Slam spell.”

  Leera swatted idly. “You didn’t miss much. Just think of a whole bunch more kids like Haylee and Robin running around. But yeah, I remember the Slam spell. It’s awesome.”

  “What kind of spell is it?” he asked.

  Leera shifted in the saddle. “It’s this huge noise, different for each element. For mine, it’s the sound of water crashing. The better you get at it, the louder and scarier and more real it becomes.”

  “Mine is the sound of a huge tree breaking,” Bridget said, face buried in the book.

  “What’s mine?” he asked.

  Leera’s brow rose. “Well, isn’t it obvious?”

  “Is it … thunder?”

  “Yes,” Bridget said, “and if done right, it’s deafening.”

  “I remember the arcane word to be very guttural, kind of like a growl,” Leera said. “Bridge, remember that one time when that second year kid got down on all fours and pretended to be a wolf while trying the spell, as if howling it would work?”

  Bridget chortled. “Yeah, he was weird. Hey, remember how that one kid—what was his name, Don or something?”

  “The quiet good-looking one with the nice smile?” A dreamy look passed over Leera’s face.

  “Him, yes. Remember how he would try to perform this spell even though we were strictly not allowed to try it?”

  “Yeah I do, and he got suspended and did the spell anyway on his way out the door, this massive sound of exploding fire—”

  “—teachers ran for it thinking the building was going to go …”

  The girls giggled then sighed.

  “Ah, whatever happened to him anyway?” Leera asked. “He didn’t join us at Sparrow’s Perch.”

  Bridget turned somber. “Don’t know …”

  “You miss the academy?” Augum asked, wishing he’d had a chance to go, even if just for a few months like the girls.

  Bridget returned to the book. “Sometimes, but not really.”

  “I kind of like harrowing death-defying adventure,” Leera said. “Seriously though, I’d rather be stuck here with the two of you rascals instead of being forced to study necromancy in the academy. Though I’d have probably run away …”

  Bridget gave a wry smile. “Or flunked.”

  “Hey—”

  “Kidding. Anyway, you two want to start learning the second elemental spell or not? It’s not going to be easy learning it from a book, but I think we should at least try.”

  “We did promise Nana we’d study every day,” he said. “It’ll be a classroom on horseback.”

  “Except we’re the teachers,” Bridget added.

  “And the lesson might mean the difference between life and death,” Leera chimed in.

  The first thing they practiced was the pronunciation: “Grau”, similar to “growl”, minus the last letter, spoken gutturally. To Augum, it was embarrassing and funny at the same time—embarrassing when he tried it, funny when the girls did.

  “Aww, you’re like a playful kitten trying to sound ferocious,” Leera remarked upon Bridget’s attempt.

  Bridget only frowned. “Anyway, the book says you’re supposed to concentrate on the air snapping, whatever that means …”

  It was a line that could have used the explanation of a mentor, a luxury they didn’t have and so had to interpret. Even if they managed to understand a paragraph or two, they stumbled on wordy portions like: The pupil is instructed to discuss these three unimpeachable points with her mentor in order to deduce the substantive application of the spell and its ramifications on arcane stamina.

  Leera made a face as if smelling a most rank odor. “What …?”

  “I think it means we’re supposed to talk about the spell with our mentor and understand how it affects our arcane stamina,” Bridget said.

  Leera flashed Augum a she’s such a bookworm look.

  Bridget smacked Leera’s arm with the book. “I saw that—”

  “Careful or I’ll fall and you’ll get detention.” Leera’s voice took the tone of a snobbish teacher. “Mr. Stone, you’re going to have to discipline this unbridled student here, this is just not acceptable.”

  “I am in full agreement with Ms. Jones,” he said in a nasal voice. “I am duly sorry, Ms. Burns, but we do not permit such barbarous behavior in our fine Travelling School on Horseback.”

  After the chuckling died down, they continued studying, flipping to each chapter—or what was left of it—pertaining to their particular element, and reading it aloud, discussing the points. Some of the concepts were very complex and obviously meant for the mentor to read and interpret for the student. In those instances, they did what they could
, but mostly ended up ignoring or skipping over the section, hoping to work it out later.

  As the sun began to set and the cold chipped away at their morale, they traded studying for food, stopping quickly to feed the horses and munch on salted salmon and dried apple.

  “Think there’s anything in those woods?” Leera asked, stroking Spirit’s neck.

  Augum looked to the twisted forest ahead. “Don’t know.”

  Bridget placed a hand above her eyes and glanced across the vast snowy plain behind them. “We need to figure out a way to lose the Black Guards following us.”

  “You can see them?”

  “No, but I doubt they just gave up.”

  “I bet the Blade of Sorrows has been alerted by now.” He withdrew the map, splaying it across the flank of his horse. The girls gathered near. “All right, I’m guessing we’re right about here.” He thumbed the southeast corner of Blackwood. “They’re expecting us to ride straight north to Mt. Barrow, but what if we lost them in the wood and took a detour, say like east through the plain, or west and up the Summerwine?”

  “We’d lose a lot of time,” Leera said, “and we need to get to Mrs. Stone as soon as possible.”

  Bridget gave a nod. “I agree. I think we should just go straight north, pick up the pace if anything.”

  He tapped his chin with his thumb. “If we don’t lose them in this wood we’ll have to ride through the night. Otherwise they might catch up to us.”

  Leera curled strands of raven hair around her finger. “I think we should ride through the night anyway, it’s something they won’t be expecting. They probably think we’re little brats that can’t push ourselves. Besides, unless we find some unmarked river or another blizzard comes, we won’t be able to just make our tracks—” she made an explosive gesture, “poof, disappear.”

  They traded daring looks.

  “Really up for this?” Bridget asked.

  “Definitely.”

  “Yes.”