Valor (Book 3)

by Sever Bronny

  No one was in any doubt as to why so many warlocks hit their ceiling at this spell, for it was the first great leap in difficulty, and only one of many, as Mrs. Stone had warned. In fact, when they reported their success to her, she actually breathed a sigh of relief, as if worried one of them might have hit their ceiling already.

  After those ten grueling days, they were now able to cast every single spell in their arsenal on command, including their extensions, Object Alarm, Object Track, and the First Offensive. Mrs. Stone proudly told them they had squeezed about three month’s worth of academy work in ten days, but at the sacrifice of learning arcane history, astronomy, arithmetic, the spoken and written word, and other essentials of a solid academy education.

  “And when this is all over,” Mrs. Stone added, “do not presume for one moment I will not expect you to study that which you have missed.”

  Leera only shrugged while Augum nodded in agreement, preferring to have a chance to learn so many interesting subjects. Only Bridget seemed depressed about the matter, actually petitioning Mrs. Stone to begin teaching those disciplines through the Orb of Orion. Much to Leera’s relief, Mrs. Stone declined, explaining they had to focus on their greatest needs during this perilous time.

  Raptos, meanwhile, kept them abreast of happenings on the glacier. A second Legion company had marched on the castle, though the Occi managed to repel their assaults. The wolven did not gather any supplies this time, nor did the trio ask him to. Still, he did not demand they hasten to take him to Bahbell. Augum suspected it was because Raptos was actually interested in the warlock process, maybe to report his observations back to his homeland.

  When he asked him if wolven learned arcanery, the towering creature said they only had three innate talents—frost breath, ice armor and ice weapon, apparently making them formidable warriors. Of course, the wolven took great offense when asked to demonstrate these abilities, complaining bitterly about lowland manners.

  Throughout their training, Mrs. Stone reported on the Legion’s advance into Tiberra. Village after village fell, until the great horde had advanced to only two towns away from Dramask, the capital. She expected a siege to take place and resolved to help the Tiberrans in any way she could. Augum’s heart went out to the Tiberran people, for he knew all too well what it was like to have one’s town razed to the ground.

  Yet most of their thoughts were on one thing: the journey into Bahbell, for the day had finally come when Mrs. Stone deemed them ready.

  Setting Out

  The next morning was cool and bright, frosting breath into icy plumes. The trio stood at the cave entrance wearing winter furs, rucksacks bulging with supplies, waiting for Raptos to finish packing.

  Augum’s eyes travelled the jagged Muranians, glittering in the morning sun. He felt fresh and rested. He had gained back the weight he lost from the journey to the Occi; had shaken off the fever and the cough that seemed as if it would never go away; and his palm no longer needed a bandage, though the scar was quite prominent. He probably should have chosen a better location to draw blood, but what was done was done, as Sir Westwood used to say.

  Augum reflected back on the long days of training. He now knew fourteen spells: Shine and its extension, Telekinesis, Repair, Unconceal, Centarro, Shield, Push, Disarm, Slam, Mind Armor, Object Alarm, Object Track, and the First Offensive. Learning the last one had been a brutal struggle, but knowing he had passed a point where warlocks frequently gave up filled him with pride. He hoped he didn’t have a ceiling to hit; he hoped he’d learn all twenty degrees like his great-grandmother, and maybe even attain mastery.

  Leera glanced back at the cave. “What’s taking that earless wolf so long?” She elbowed Augum. “What are you looking at?”

  “Just … admiring the view.”

  “That all?”

  He shrugged. “Guess I’m wondering if we’ll come back here.”

  “We’ve already seen more places than most common folk do in a lifetime,” Bridget said. “We are very fortunate.”

  The wolven stepped out into the sun, a rucksack dwarfed on his back, his long fur waving like grass in the wind. “I shall lead the way.”

  “You know where the portal pillar is?” Leera asked.

  Raptos stared down at her as if addressing a petulant child. “You insult me once again, raven-haired lowlander, this time by assuming I do not know my own territory.” He dropped onto all fours and began pacing through the powdery snow.

  Augum and Leera’s old path had long snowed over completely. Raptos took a new route anyway, a sharper one with steeper inclines. He had to stop frequently, waiting for their comparatively tiny legs to catch up. Bridget, scared of tumbling to her death, asked to be tied to someone. Augum volunteered, though he almost regretted it. Sometimes she clawed at him like a cat if her foot slipped even one iota. At other times, she’d shriek, suddenly yanking at the rope. Leera didn’t help matters by making jokes of her predicament.

  The day eventually settled into a rhythm as the slopes gentled. The trio diligently practiced their spells as they went. They stopped throughout the day for quick meal breaks, but kept up a good pace until late in the evening, when they setup camp on the side of a mountain. The wolven dug a hole and curled up in it, undisturbed by the winds or cold, while the trio setup the largest tent, having left the other behind. Thoroughly exhausted from the day, it wasn’t long until everyone was asleep.

  The morning proved windy, the sky filled with fast-moving gray clouds. They ate breakfast, packed up the tent, and continued. By early afternoon, they were at the bottom of the rocky wall, now encrusted with ice and snow. The obelisk was only a ledge above.

  “Blizzard had a good go at it,” Augum said. “Going to be a trickier climb.”

  “The wraith fell right here.” Leera pointed to a slight dip in the snow. “You should have seen Augum and I—” she made the Push gesture, “—whoosh! And over it went.”

  “How did you two climb this thing anyway?” Bridget asked, looking peaked as she glanced up.

  Augum shrugged. “We just climbed—”

  “—we raced,” Leera corrected.

  Bridget had to steady herself against the wall.

  “I find little interest in your lowlander drivel.” Raptos dug his paws in and began climbing the wall as if it was nothing more than a minor obstacle. It was the first time since they departed that he spoke to them.

  Leera made a face as she watched the wolven climb. “Do we really have to take him along?”

  “Yes,” Augum said. “We promised.” He turned to Bridget. “So how are we going to get you up there?”

  “I’m not climbing it. No way, not ever. In fact, I think I need to sit down a moment …”

  “What if we used Telekinesis?” Leera asked. “We’re much better at it now, and if we combined our power, maybe we could get her all the way up.”

  They glanced skyward. Raptos was already halfway to the ledge, scaling the thing like a squirrel zipping up a tree.

  “Would you be willing to try that, Bridge?” Leera pressed.

  Bridget swallowed but nodded, her breaths coming fast. “Since the rope’s too short, we have no choice, do we? Just don’t drop me …”

  “So now we have to decide if we pull her up from the top or push her from down below,” Leera said.

  “I think pulling her from up top would work better,” Augum said, unable to fathom doing it the other way. “Let’s go one at a time then, and if one of us slips, be ready to catch that person with Telekinesis.”

  They began the hundred-foot climb, Leera first, later followed by Augum. This time, they didn’t race. In fact, Augum couldn’t imagine why they had done it in the first place—seemed needlessly reckless now.

  Augum finally joined Leera at the top. A ways off, the wolven studied the obelisk.

  “No help at all from him,” Leera muttered. “Useless mountain goat …”

  “Hey, he’s big at least,” Augum said. “Probably be good in a fight
.”

  Leera scoffed. “We’d have to trade our souls for him to help us.”

  “Let’s concentrate here,” Augum said. They stretched out their arms near the edge of the cliff. Suddenly the bottom looked a great distance away. He visualized Bridget being picked up, but after a few moments of intense concentration, nothing was happening.

  “I think we’re out of range,” Leera said, glancing back at the wolven, who was now pacing towards them on all fours.

  “You lowlanders are slower than Canterran molasses.”

  “Well you’re more than twice our height,” Leera said, “and you scale like a rat.”

  “One more insolent remark like that and I shall put you on the frying pan, lowlander.”

  Leera retreated a step and said nothing more.

  Raptos watched her with his wolf eyes while removing the horn from his belt. He put it to his snout and blew. The note echoed distantly.

  “Not this thing again,” Leera muttered.

  “I see it,” Augum said after a while, pointing northwestward. A harpy flew straight for them, fighting the winds.

  Leera snorted a laugh. “You’re going to get that thing to bring Bridget up, aren’t you?”

  “At no charge. Although it would be amusing to watch you struggle with the problem at hand, it is not worth enduring the wait.”

  Augum glanced down at Bridget. “I’m not sure she’s going to appreciate this very much …”

  The harpy landed before the wolven, bringing with it the stench of death and dung.

  “Bridget’s going to kill us,” Leera said. “It’s almost safer to leave her down there …”

  Augum gave her a look.

  “Well I was obviously kidding.”

  Raptos pointed at Bridget while talking to the harpy. “Pick her up and bring her to us.”

  “Here we go.” Leera elbowed Augum. “You can tell her.”

  Augum cupped his mouth. “Uh, Bridge! Bridget! We’re, uh, sending a harpy to pick you up!”

  There was a shriek.

  “She sounds enthusiastic,” Leera said.

  “A harpy, Bridge! Just let it pick you up!”

  “Are. You. Mad! I’m going to—GET OFF ME YOU FILTHY—” Bridget began screaming and flailing wildly.

  Leera tried to keep a straight face. “It’ll be fine, Bridge! Just, uh … relax!”

  They watched as harpy feathers flew.

  “Wow, she’s actually putting up quite the fight,” Leera noted as Bridget wrapped the harpy’s neck with her vine extension. Eventually though, the ugly thing began flying their way, Bridget still flailing and screaming in its claws.

  “Don’t fight so much or it might drop you!” Augum called, feeling awful for the whole affair but also trying not to laugh at the spectacle.

  The harpy unceremoniously dropped her on the ledge.

  Leera winced.“You all right, Bridge?”

  Bridget, hair disheveled and face apple red, calmly brushed herself off before yelling at them at the top of her lungs, not a single word distinguishable. Augum couldn’t remember ever seeing her so angry; she was a hornet. They all had to take a step back.

  “—SCARRED FOR LIFE!” Bridget finally finished, making a rude gesture before marching off to the obelisk.

  “Wow, didn’t think she had it in her,” Leera muttered.

  “That was most intriguing,” Raptos said, as if nothing had happened. “The harpy even picks up those it once considered enemies.”

  “Is that thing going to follow us around everywhere now?” Leera asked, still pinching her nose.

  “It is kind of putrid, Raptos,” Augum said, holding his own nose.

  The wolven made a bit of a show of sniffing the air with his snout. “I consider my sense of smell to be far superior to your lowlander one. Yet note how I am unperturbed. Self control is a source of pride in the highlands.”

  “I shall do as I please, lowlanders.” The wolven walked off to the obelisk.

  The harpy flapped its wings at Leera. “Die …” it hissed.

  She kicked snow at it. “Shut up.”

  It clicked its beak a few times before waddling after its new master.

  “They make a fine pair,” Leera muttered, watching the backs of the two creatures. “We better make sure Bridge is all right.”

  “If she’ll ever speak to us again,” Augum replied as they followed along.

  When Bridget saw the harpy approach, she ran away screeching like an offended owl.

  “I don’t think she’s going to come until you get rid of it, Raptos,” Augum said. “And if she doesn’t come, none of us go.”

  Leera nodded in agreement.

  “So be it, lowlander.” He turned to the harpy. “I want you to fly over the glacier and report what you see when I call on you.”

  “Master …” It unfurled its wings and took to the air. After a few more moments, they were finally able to take a normal breath.

  “It’s safe, Bridge, come on!” Leera called.

  Bridget walked back, arms folded, eyes slits.

  Augum gave an unsure wave. “We hope you’re not too—”

  “—don’t even think of talking to me.” She stabbed a pointed finger at both of them. “Either of you.” She marched past and waited by the obelisk. “Well?”

  They exchanged glances before making their way over, joining hands. Augum, who had taken Bridget’s hand, felt her nails.

  “Ouch, Bridge—not so hard,” Leera said.

  She only tightened her grip.

  Raptos ended up taking Leera’s hand at the end of the chain. She hesitated but took his great furry paw.

  “You do it, Aug,” she said.

  Augum studied the portal pillar, locating the runes. “You’ll have to lift me up to hit the last one,” he told Raptos.

  The wolven flexed his jaw but said nothing.

  “Everyone ready?” Augum asked. “Because we’re about to enter a very old and dangerous castle.”

  Bridget gave a terse nod, while Leera grinned. The wolven stood still.

  “Shyneo.” Augum began tapping out the correct runic sequence. “Now!”

  The wolven, one paw holding the others, wrapped the other arm around Augum’s waist and boosted him up. Augum smacked the final rune, a skull with a triangular roof over it, and felt his body get yanked.

  Surprise

  They appeared in total darkness, coughing and groaning from the teleportation. Even the wolven yowled in sickness. A fiercely cold wind was shooting past them, oddly, from below. The sound was an echoing roar, as if they were in a gargantuan tunnel.

  “Shyneo,” Augum said when he had recovered enough. His blue light revealed they stood on a circular pedestal only about thirty feet across, made of smooth black stone, with the obelisk in the center.

  “Shyneo,” Leera said.

  Bridget clung to the portal pillar. “Please tell me we’re not up high again …”

  Augum crept close to the edge. If there were walls, his light could not reach them. The wind ruffled his hair and hood as he stared down into that unfathomable depth. It reminded him of the well in Castle Arinthian’s cellar, except much larger and darker. Guardrails absent, nothing prevented the wind from snagging him and pulling him over, so he took a step back.

  “Uh, best you not look down, Bridge,” he said.

  “It floats!” Leera said. She was on her knees pawing underneath the pedestal, hair flying. “There’s nothing underneath us—we’re floating!”

  “I can see cavern walls about four hundred paces in every direction,” Raptos said.

  Leera sat up. “How can you see that far in this darkness?”

  “Your hands provide enough light for my superior night vision to see that far.” He paused as he glanced around. “This is a most peculiar cavern. I cannot see the bottom or the top, but there is a great door in the wall.” He pointed. “It has a mark in its center—a skull inside a circle. Its forehead has three dots in a triangular pattern.”
/>   “That’s Occulus’ mark,” Augum said. “Now how do we get to it?”

  “This I do not know. I would think that as warlocks, you would, however.”

  Augum shrugged. “We’re just apprentices.”

  Leera crawled away from the edge before standing. “There’s got to be some arcane way to get there. Maybe there’s a secret password or something.”

  “Occulus was a very powerful necromancer,” Bridget said, still clinging to the obelisk. “He had to have some kind of system so only those that he wanted to come in actually got across.”

  Augum bent low, hand shining over the polished black basalt. “Maybe there’s a secret sign.” But after much examination, they found nothing. He plopped down against the obelisk alongside Bridget, rubbing his head in frustration.

  “Try the orb,” Leera said.

  He dug it out of his rucksack and put his ear to it. “Nana, are you there?” but heard nothing. She didn’t wear the pearl openly as Erika had, so he couldn’t hear what was going on. Maybe she was helping wounded Tiberrans and didn’t want them to hear their agonized cries. He wondered how many villages had burned by now, and how many souls his great-grandmother had saved.

  “Yes, Augum?” came the late reply.

  “Nana, you’re there, great! We’ve made it to the entrance to Bahbell, but we can’t go any further.”

  “Let me see.”

  Augum walked about with the orb, explaining their situation.

  “Place the orb on the ground. I shall try something.”

  He did as she asked, securing it on his rucksack. They stood around waiting until the floor abruptly lit up with a circle of blue runes running along the edge of the floating island.

  “It is as I thought. These are instructive runes. Show me all of them.”

  Augum slowly walked the circumference of the platform with the orb. When he finished, he and the girls gathered around the orb and placed their ears to it.

  “I am afraid this entrance requires a live sacrifice in order to gain entry. You must—” but she was cut off by an implosive crunch. The platform suddenly mushroomed with five black-armored soldiers—a squat balding man in a black robe fringed with gold; a man wearing sleek steel armor with a horribly burned face and scalp; and two boys and a girl wearing necrophyte robes.