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Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2)

Page 43

by Sever Bronny


  Leera and Augum sat down with tired groans, using the cloth to wipe their hands.

  “We need to come up with a plan,” Augum said, watching Mr. Goss pump some water and place it over the fire.

  “I know.” Leera retrieved Mrs. Stone’s blue book, plopping it on the table.

  Augum read the title of the ornate tome. On Arcaneology: A Pupil’s Encyclopedia of the Arcane Arts, and fondly thought of Mrs. Stone and Castle Arinthian. Then he recalled one of the last things his great-grandmother said to them before leaving Ley: “Train and work hard. Practice every day. You must learn to protect yourselves. I will leave you the blue book on arcaneology—use it well. I expect that upon my return you will have a thorough understanding of the 2nd degree. Above all, look out for each other.”

  He sighed. They’d hardly studied from the book.

  Leland felt his way into the room.

  “Want to help us, Little Lee?” Leera asked.

  He nodded.

  “Why don’t you flip the pages for us—we don’t want to get them dirty or wet.”

  Leland moaned and groped his way to the book, running a scarred finger over its ornate cover.

  “Neat, eh?” Augum said, clearing his throat before changing his voice to mimic an old arcaneologist. “Son, what you are feeling there is hundreds of years of hand-written arcane knowledge.”

  Leera giggled and Mr. Goss gave an appreciative nod.

  “It has been passed down from generation to generation,” Augum continued. “The ornate foil is made of gold, the tome itself bound in dragon hide. They say, ‘All who toucheth this book will find happiness in life …’.”

  Leland made a sort of giggle moan as he thumbed through the pages, feeling the coarseness of each one.

  “Now you have to help us find …” Augum raised an eyebrow at Leera. “Wait, what is it we’re looking for?”

  “Mrs. Stone wanted us to learn the 2nd degree, remember?” Leera replied. “So I want to find out what we’re missing.”

  “Funny, I was just thinking we needed to play catch-up,” he said.

  “There! Stop there, Leland.” Leera scanned down the page. “Here we are, 2nd degree spells. There’s Shield—we sort of know that one, though we could use some more practice with it; Push—we don’t know that one yet; and Disarm—definitely don’t know that one.”

  “We also need to practice the Slam spell,” he said.

  “Water’s ready,” Mr. Goss announced, retrieving the ceramic washbasin and placing it near the fire. “So, what did you lot find over at old Tennyson’s house?”

  While Mr. Goss prepared the towels, Augum and Leera recounted the whole adventure, including Bridget’s accident with the stairs.

  Mr. Goss looked horrified. “But she could have very well been killed—”

  “No, but, it was really funny, Mr. Goss,” Augum said with fervent nods from Leera. Nonetheless, he quickly proceeded to the part about the Slow Time scroll and the ancient verse.

  “… So we think that we can make one wish at Hangman’s Rock,” he concluded.

  Mr. Goss carefully removed the steaming iron pot of water from the fire. “I must say I am more than a little concerned. This arcanery you speak of sounds dangerous.” He poured the water into the washbasin.

  “But we have to try, Mr. Goss, we have to.”

  Leland mimic-moaned in agreement, planting his feet and crossing his arms indignantly.

  Mr. Goss gave Augum a searching look and slowly nodded. “I know you do.” He dropped a couple towels into the steaming water, stirring them with iron pincers. “You know, all this talk of Hangman’s Rock reminds me of an old legend about witches being hung from there by superstitious peasants.”

  “Yeah, we’ve heard that one,” Augum said, exchanging a knowing look with Leera. Robin told that tale to scare Leland the night they encountered the claw at Hangman’s Rock.

  “Very well then, but did you hear the one about the three candle sacrifice?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Ah, then allow me to pass on the legend, a favorite for us chandlers.” Mr. Goss removed his spectacles, placing them on the table beside the open tome. “Legend has it that a long time ago, before arcanery was even understood, a coven of witches began exploring arcane sacrifice. They tried all manner of animal and creature, but nothing yielded eternal life. Then one day, they placed an innocent girl amongst three tall candles. After uttering their usual curses, one of the witches killed the girl with a sacrificial dagger. It worked and they became immortal.

  “However, there was a steep price to pay for this immortality—they were banished to a separate plane of existence, where they could roam eternally. From this plane, they used their newfound powers to snatch all manner of innocent creatures from the mortal world, enslaving and corrupting them for their purposes. Over many eons, they populated that plane full of demons and monsters. Can you guess what name we give that plane now?”

  Leera gulped. “Are you speaking of hell, Mr. Goss?”

  “Indeed. Hell is one of the oldest words. Superstition was rampant as people disappeared. Arcanery was branded as evil, setting back arcane learning for thousands of years. Women of all kinds were declared witches and hung, hence Hangman’s Rock. That tale is called ‘The Legend of Three Candles’.”

  ”But why isn’t it called something like, ‘The Legend of How Witches Began’?” Augum asked.

  “It has to do with the arcane number three. Throughout ancient history, the number three has been perceived unlucky and unholy—but also quite powerful. To this day, it is considered very bad luck to come across three candles, especially in triangle formation”

  “—wait, a triangle! So that’s what that is!” Augum hurriedly unfurled the scroll with the verses on it. “Three pointed star refers to the symbol of the witch! It’s what was on Magua’s cloak—that’s the symbol we have to find on Hangman’s Rock!” He read the poem aloud again, every sentence now ringing true.

  “ ‘Thus leans the wickedest stone’, which must refer to Hangman’s Rock—” He skipped on to the other relevant parts. “ ‘So shall ye giveth tooth or bone’, which means this—” and he showed the supposed dragon tooth amulet. “ ‘If ye followed one Lord of Death’—”

  “—except none of us do,” Leera chimed in with a frown.

  “We’ll worry about that later then. ‘Find thy mark three pointed star’, which we now know refers to some kind of triangular symbol. ‘Shout with Shine your wish bizarre’—”

  “Which will be to teleport to Mrs. Stone,” Leera said.

  “Right, and finally, ‘Crush the object against the stone’—”

  “—smash the tooth against Hangman’s Rock!” they concluded together in mutual excitement.

  Mr. Goss’ face grew serious. “Augum, do you mean to say that you will be asking for a favor from a witch in hell?”

  “Um, I guess so.”

  “As desperate as you are to get to Mrs. Stone, I am not sure I approve of this plan.”

  Augum was having second thoughts too. What if they ended up in hell instead of by Mrs. Stone’s side? Yet what choice did they have? His father was well ahead of them and they had already lost valuable time. This was probably their one and only chance to get to her before he did.

  The trap door opened and a soot-stained Bridget descended the steps, padding over to sit beside Augum and Leera. Her eyes were red and her shoulders drooped.

  Leera gave her a squeeze. “Oh, Bridge …”

  Bridget gave a pained smile. “I’ll be all right.”

  “The water should be ready,” Mr. Goss said. “Now if you’ll excuse Leland and I, we have some wood foraging to do.”

  They watched father and son quietly depart.

  Leera poked Augum. “Go away, you mischievous villain, we’re washing up.” He excused himself to Leland’s room, taking the verses with him, overhearing Leera recount Mr. Goss’ story to Bridget in between splashes.

  “… So we think it�
��s the witch’s mark,” Augum called in conclusion from Leland’s room. “And that’s what we have to find on Hangman’s Rock and use Shine on.”

  Bridget’s voice flooded back. “A witch? What if she snatches us to hell?”

  “We think it’s a risk worth taking. You two done yet?”

  “Yeah yeah,” Leera grumbled. The girls soon appeared at the door, looking as fresh as pixies.

  Augum handed Bridget the verses. “I’m worried about this line here.” He pointed to the part that read, And warned ye be it would be best if ye followed one Lord of Death.

  “Me too, let me think on it.”

  Augum boiled some more water and took his time washing up, enjoying the rare solitude, the heat of the water, the crackle of the fire.

  “So I think I may have a solution,” Bridget called from the other room just as Augum finished. He showed up at the doorway, leaning against the frame.

  “Solution to what?” Leera asked absently, concentrating on fixing Bridget’s hair.

  “To the fact none of us follows the Lord of Death.”

  “Oh, right … so what is it already?”

  “Haylee—OW!”

  Leera had involuntarily jerked on one of Bridget’s braids. Augum realized Bridget was unaware of what happened between Leera and Haylee outside.

  “Sorry,” Leera mumbled.

  “As I was saying,” Bridget continued, “if we found a way to rescue her, she could be the one to perform the spell—ouch! Gentle, Lee—”

  Leera grunted. “That’s a lot on our plate. I mean, we’d have to somehow sneak by the Legion, rescue Haylee, explain everything to her so she did the ritual correctly, and then somehow not get thrown into hell or captured or killed along the way. Couldn’t be easier, eh?”

  “And don’t forget we have to get past the walkers and a giant wraith,” Augum added.

  “I don’t see how there’s any other way to get to Mrs. Stone before Sparkstone does,” Bridget said, wincing from Leera’s handling. “We just have to plan it well and study our spells, that’s all.”

  “Actually, we were already thinking of doing some serious studying today,” he said.

  “Good. Are we in agreement then? Rescue Haylee and get her to perform the ritual?”

  “I’m in,” he said.

  Leera sighed. “Fine …”

  They moved back to the kitchen where Augum withdrew Tridian’s map and splayed it on the table. “Haylee placed my father and his men somewhere north of Antioc, here, and since they’re on horseback, that means we should still have a day or two to prepare before they reach Nana in the Northern peaks.”

  “Let’s just get as prepared as possible before going on this crazy quest,” Bridget said, exchanging the map for One Eye’s parchment. “Looking forward to learning Slam properly now that I’m not paralyzed.” They began studying the spell, referencing the arcaneology book, the element book from Evergray Tower, and One Eye’s intricate Slam scroll, but it didn’t take long for them to realize they were in over their heads.

  Bridget tossed One Eye’s loupe onto the parchment and rubbed her eyes. “It just doesn’t replace a mentor. So much I still don’t understand.”

  Leera, who had been trading punches with Augum under the table after losing focus, grunted in agreement.

  “We know enough to try the spell though, don’t we?” Augum asked.

  Leera snorted. “Speak for yourself. And even if we did, we can’t do it outside—too loud.” Bridget gave Leera a haughty look. “Maybe if you’d actually do some studying and stop fooling around—”

  Leera straightened. “What do you think I’ve been doing! Just because—ugh, give me that.” She yanked One Eye’s parchment from the table and stood up to pace with it.

  Augum and Bridget exchanged a secret smile. It was funny seeing Leera take studying seriously.

  Just as Augum was about to jokingly tell her to stop pretending to be Bridget, Leera made a fierce gesture as if flaying the ground with an invisible whip. They heard an enormous volume of water crash around them, so real everyone, including Leera, dove for cover under the table.

  “I don’t believe it,” Leera said through snorts of laughter. “For once I beat you all to it!”

  “Well, I feel stupid,” Augum said as they crawled out from under the table.

  Bridget grabbed Leera by the shoulders. “I. Am. Impressed.”

  “Whoa, Aug, did you get that? Let the record show that Bridge actually paid me a compliment.”

  “Noted on the record,” Augum said with a nod. “Heralds will be sent to all four corners of Sithesia with the news.”

  “And watch this.” Leera strode over to the table, holding her nose exceptionally high. “So a couple things here,” she began in a highborn accent, perusing the scroll with a dainty finger, “as we get better with the spell, we can control its source location, volume, and even the sound itself.”

  “All right, you’ve made your point, Miss Bragpants,” Bridget said with a smile. “Now give us some pointers.

  Leera punched both of them in the shoulder at once. “More than happy to.”

  She turned out to be a surprisingly good teacher. Augum and Bridget went on to successfully cast the spell twice, Leera five times. It was a spell that really required imagination, creativity and concentration, though not as much as Centarro, their favorite spell. Centarro had side effects, however, and Slam did not—other than the usual drain on arcane stamina.

  By the time Mr. Goss and Leland returned with handfuls of branches, the trio were sitting around the table, panting.

  “Come now, arcane warriors, give Leland and I a show! We heard the ruckus and are nothing short of intrigued. Let us see whose sound is fiercer!”

  “You asked for it, Mr. Goss,” Leera said with a mischievous smile.

  And so they showcased Leera’s water crashing, Augum’s thunder, and Bridget’s tree cracking. With each demonstration, Leland squealed with delight. Mr. Goss looked on with fatherly pride, hands over his ears.

  “I think we have a clear winner,” he said at last. “Congratulations to Leera!”

  Everyone clapped heartily.

  “And here’s your prize,” Augum said, handing her one of Leland’s toys, a small wooden duck.

  Leera raised it high like a trophy. “I have won the quacking! Hail to me!”

  “Hail to Leera!” they shouted with a new round of clapping.

  “Now let us break for supper,” Mr. Goss said with a chortle after the excitement died down.

  The trio, cracking jokes and prodding at each other throughout, helped prepare seasoned rabbit (Mr. Goss had traps set nearby and had caught one), spiced carrot and potato stew, salted and buttered hard bread, and, as a special congratulatory surprise, chocolate and cheese for dessert, courtesy of the late Mr. Bawdings. The merry feast eventually concluded with hot tea and a rosy fire.

  Learning

  After supper, Mr. Goss took Leland to his room to change his bandages and administer lessons in arithmetic and history, subjects that made the boy groan.

  Augum glanced through the Orb of Orion. It was quiet above, the treetops glowing crimson in sunset. “Guess we should get back to studying. Push or Disarm?”

  Bridget flipped through the arcaneology book. “Hmm … I think learning either spell without a mentor will be really difficult.”

  “What’s it say about Push?”

  Bridget skimmed down the page. “It’s used to suddenly impact objects and people, very much like Telekinesis, but involving more energy and a trigger word.”

  “Which is?”

  “ ‘Baka’.”

  Leera made a face. “Sounds like a chicken squawk.”

  “Shouldn’t be too hard to learn though,” Bridget said, flipping pages. “We already understand the principles of Telekinesis, and Disarm is similar in theory except …”

  Leera glanced at Augum, mouthing, “ ‘In theory’.”

  Bridget finished scanning the page. “… Excep
t there’s way more subtlety to the spell. Oh, and it drains more arcane stamina.”

  “Is there a trigger word?” Augum asked.

  “ ‘Disablo’.”

  “Push it is then,” Leera said

  Augum and Bridget agreed and the trio began by reading the chapter silently to themselves. Augum found the language of the book to be quite technical and wordy, and longed for a cheat-scroll like the one One Eye had gifted them, something in common terms with useful tips and tricks written in the margins. Noticing the glazed look on Leera’s face, he suspected she wished the same thing.

  “All right,” Bridget said after finishing, tapping the page with a sigh, “I have a hundred questions, but they’re all for Mrs. Stone. Honestly, I don’t get half of this.”

  “I’m finding it a touch difficult too,” he said, though truthfully he barely understood a thing.

  “Don’t look at me,” Leera said, expelling a lungful of air. “I can only perform one miracle a day.”

  Bridget tried reading the tiny script again, but upon completion shook her head. And that is how it went for the next hour—a long slog of trying to comprehend the complex instructions to what appeared to be a simple spell. At one point Leera even joked they might have plateaued; reached their ceiling; come up against an insurmountable obstacle—

  “—all right, we get it, Lee!” Bridget said.

  Augum’s shoulders slumped. “Think I’d rather go back to the iron room.”

  “Why the glum faces?” Mr. Goss asked, wandering in to put a pot of water over the hearth.

  “It’s this spell, Mr. Goss,” Bridget said, gesturing impatiently at the book. “It’s impossible without a mentor.”

  “Might as well be written in Nodian,” Leera muttered.

  “Mind if I take a peek at it?”

  “Are you sure, Mr. Goss?” Leera asked. “Forgive me, sir, but you’re not a warlock.”

  “Leera Jones—” Bridget said in an undertone.

  Mr. Goss chortled. “Of course not, but I do enjoy reading. Perhaps I can help just a little.”

 

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