by Sever Bronny
After much talk and reflection, Mrs. Stone’s coughing worsened to the point she couldn’t hold her cup of tea without spilling it.
“Will you allow me to escort you to bed, Mrs. Stone?” Mr. Goss asked. Mrs. Stone, still coughing, could only nod. “And you too, Leland, come.”
The trio bid them goodnight and gathered closer to the fire, a pinprick of light among the black vastness of the Tallows.
“She really doesn’t sound good,” Bridget said. “I’m worried.”
Leera shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s the most powerful warlock alive, she’s got a scion, and she can heal herself. I wouldn’t worry.”
“Long day ahead tomorrow,” Augum said, idly stirring the flames, not looking forward to the drab journey across the Tallows.
Bridget adjusted a braid. “Lee, can you help me take these out tomorrow?”
“Sure, but you have to help with mine too.” She turned to Augum. “Imagine if we actually find Occulus’ castle …”
He shrugged. “I miss Castle Arinthian.”
“So do I,” Bridget said, washing the cups with snow. Then she stopped. “Isn’t this the first day of Endyear or something?”
“Don’t know, lost track of the days a while ago.” Augum thought of the end of year traditions, the feasts, the games, the dancing and singing. He never got to take part in them much, having been ostracized from having friends or family. Sir Westwood had celebrated with him now and then, but it was still … lonely. Regardless, Endyear was a time of joy and peace and families, yet all across Solia, there was only suffering.
“Ten days of holiday celebrations,” Bridget said in hollow tones.
After a time of quiet, Leera frowned. “Forget Endyear. Think we’ll get our 2nd degree soon?”
“Hope so. Can’t wait to show Nana what we’ve learned.” He glanced up at the dark sky. “What an adventure, and somehow, I feel like it’s only just begun …”
“Same,” Leera said, resting her chin on her knees. Then she snorted.
“What?”
“Can’t believe he got dragged through manure.”
They chortled together.
Leera eventually sighed. “What your great-grandmother said about the good of all. It was … powerful.”
“How did it go again …” Bridget said. “ ‘Sacrifice for the good of all is the greatest strength of the benevolent—and the greatest enemy of the selfish’.”
“That’s why they died,” Augum said. “So many of them. They didn’t just sacrifice themselves for us, they did it for everyone …”
The girls nodded slowly. He glanced at his two friends, their eyes reflecting the low flame, and smiled, grateful for their companionship.
They smiled back. Words were unnecessary. They were together and that was all that mattered.
A Note from the Author
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Acknowledgments
The Arinthian Line has been years in the making, and I couldn’t have done it without the loving support of my wife and editor, Tansy. Thank you to my family, friends, and my readers. This is a wonderful ride. My sincere gratitude for sharing it with me.
As for book 3, it’s already complete and undergoing final editing. But you’ll have to sign up to my mailing list above to receive more hints ;)
All my best to you and those you love,
Sever Bronny
About the Author
Sever Bronny is a musician and author living in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. He has released three albums with his industrial-rock music project Tribal Machine, including the full-length concept album The Orwellian Night. One of his songs can be heard in the feature-length film The Gene Generation. His love of fantasy began with Dragonlance and continues on with Harry Potter. Connect with him at his website severbronny.com.