Valor (Book 3)

by Sever Bronny

  “Sacrifices have to be made for the betterment of the Legion, boy. Do not worry, I shall make it quick.”

  “N-n-n-n-n-n—”

  Bridget suddenly stopped struggling. “The vial …” She frantically dug around in her robes and brought out the rest of the Golden Vitae.

  “But where did—” Leera began.

  “I grabbed it along with the map, but never mind that, we can save him after; we’ll just have to be quick—”

  “Face me, boy!”

  “N-n-n-n-n-n—”

  Horrick shuffled near Garryk. “Dost thou refuse, Unworthy?”

  “Face him or you’ll both die!” Temper said.

  “N-n-n-n-n-n—” Garryk was shaking head to toe now. His books slipped from his clutches and his spectacles fell to the floor.

  “Just lop off his head, Commander!” Robin called.

  “Thou shalt duel or thou shalt both perish, feckless loafer.”

  “He’s choosing not to fight …” Leera said in an incredulous voice.

  “Face me or we both die!” Tridian roared.

  “N-n-n-n-n-n—” Suddenly Garryk stopped shaking and gave Tridian a serene look. “No.”

  Nefra’s tongue rattled. “I shall not be deprived …”

  “Stupid boy!” Tridian raised his blade.

  At the same time, Augum shot his hand out. “Disablo!” The blade yanked itself from Tridian’s grip and came clanging to the ground between them.

  Tridian shot Augum a murderous look.

  Temper screamed and began jumping from foot to foot.

  “Rats!” Spiller called. “Everywhere!” They streamed in from the darkness, squealing and sniffing at the air.

  Robin sent a rat flying with a kick of his boot. “Commander—watch out!”

  Torrents of them lunged at Tridian and Garryk, though the vast majority fell on Tridian. The trio ran to help, using kicks, punches and every spell in their arsenal to get them off Garryk. Robin, Temper, Raina and Spiller did the same for Tridian, who in a rage had begun running blindly into the darkness, his entourage in pursuit.

  At last, they managed to clear Garryk of the rats, but he had been bitten all over his face, neck and hands, and was gasping, eyes unfocused.

  Augum jumped into action. “Put pressure on the wounds!”

  “He’s losing blood fast,” Bridget said. “We have to be quick. Here’s the Golden Vitae. Leera, find a dish. Aug, grab me that dagger, I’ll slice my hand like you did—”

  She froze. “Mr. Spigot, did you say something?”

  Mr. Spigot lay near in a bloody mess, still clutching his belly. His voice was barely audible. “You have … Vitae?”

  Bridget quickly nodded, hands pressed tightly on Garryk’s neck. “Yes,” Mr. Spigot, we have it right here, but … but we do not have enough to save you both.”

  He winced and offered his blackened arm. “For … Garryk.”

  Leera shot over with a wooden bowl. “Are you sure? This’ll mean—”

  “Do it …”

  “Thank you, Mr. Spigot.” Leera lined up the bowl underneath and sliced his arm with Boots’ dagger.

  “Hurry, hurry …” Bridget said, blood gushing between her fingers. The sight instantly transported Augum back to holding Mya’s throat, trying to prevent her lifeblood from draining. Concentrate, he told himself. He tore strips of cloth from a linen shirt sticking out of one of the rucksacks and began binding what wounds he could find on Garryk’s body.

  “Stay with us, Garryk, stay with us!” Bridget yelled.

  “Almost got it, Mr. Spigot, hang in there!” Leera said.

  “My … girls … I’m … sorry …” Mr. Spigot’s eyes remained open, but he was gone. Behind them, the doors remained closed. Apparently, Nefra needed one more death for them to open.

  “His heart stopped pumping—!” Leera said. “I don’t know if I have enough!”

  Bridget used one hand to quickly unstop the vial with her teeth. “Bring it, bring it quick! Augum, help—”

  As soon as Leera hurried over, Augum poured the Golden Vitae into the bowl.

  “Hurry, feed it to him!” Bridget said, holding up his head while pressing on his wounds. Augum placed the bowl to Garryk’s lips and slowly tipped it.

  Leera readied more strips of cloth. “I think they’re coming back—”

  “This is it,” Augum said. “This might be our only chance. I say we take Horrick and destroy that recipe—”

  “Agreed,” Leera said. “I’ll get the orb and the books.”

  “Hand me those strips, Aug,” Bridget said once she was done feeding Garryk the concoction. She hurriedly began binding his wounds, starting with the boy’s mangled neck and face.

  “Go go go—!” Leera said as she grabbed what she could.

  Augum and Bridget hauled Garryk up, putting his arms around their necks and dragged him along.

  Horrick!” Augum called. “Open that door!”

  “As ye wish, vile usurper.”

  “Hurry …” Leera was saying, running ahead to the closed bronze doors.

  Horrick shuffled along.

  “Quickly, Horrick!”

  “As ye desire, useless unworthy,” but his pace barely changed.

  Augum looked back to see two shining hands in the darkness moving quickly toward them.

  Horrick stepped up to the doors and waved them aside. They immediately began to rumble open. Leera and Haylee squeezed in first followed by Bridget and Augum, Garryk hanging between them.

  “Get in here, Horrick!” Augum called. “And close the doors!”

  Horrick stepped inside as a blast of fire hit his back, doing no damage. The ancient armor turned around and waved the doors closed. Augum lowered Garryk to the floor and pointed his wrists at the opening. “Annihilo!”

  The soldiers, Robin and Temper jumped aside as a lightning blast shot through the crack of the doors. Just before they closed, Augum saw the bolt smash into the Blade of Sorrows, his rotten face twisted with malice.

  The Laboratorium

  Augum leaned against the doors, panting, feeling muted thuds from the other side. There was no time to relax though—Tridian and the others would find a way to get through, even if they had to play another one of Nefra’s games to do it. Too bad the Blade of Sorrows survived Nefra’s rat attack. Augum had no illusions that his First Offensive did any damage either.

  He shone his palm light around. Before him was a long dusty table, on top of which sat scores of odd-shaped beakers and decanters. Shelves stood tall, crammed with books, scrolls, and exotic ingredients. Nearby, a large stone mortar and pestle sat on its own carved stand.

  “Oh no, I forgot his spectacles—” Bridget said, tying up the last of Garryk’s wounds. The boy was unconscious, face pale.

  “We’ll just have to manage,” Augum said.

  Leera dropped her rucksack and withdrew the Orb of Orion. “Damn spell still hasn’t worn off …”

  “Do we have any provisions?” Augum asked.

  “No food or water,” Leera replied, “but I managed to nab our two books. Couldn’t get Garryk’s in time though.”

  “Guess we’ll worry about that later then.”

  “I wonder why Nefra didn’t stop us from coming in here,” Bridget said.

  Leera shrugged. “Who knows, though I bet it’s more fun for her this way. Now she can pick us off twice as fast.”

  Augum looked into the darkness ahead. “Let’s get to the other side of this room. We can leave our things there while we search for the recipe, that way if they get through, we’ll just move to the other room.”

  “Good idea.” Bridget snagged the first book she got her hands on off the table.

  “What are you doing?” Leera asked.

  “Making an alarm in case they get through.” She leaned the book up against the crack of the doors and kneeled, laying open palms on the book. “Concutio del alarmo.”

  “All right, let’s go,” Augum said when she was done. “Horrick
, follow us.” He lifted Garryk, placing one of the boy’s arms around his neck. Bridget quickly came to support the other side, and they hauled the unconscious boy off, necrophyte robe dragging. Leera, carrying the rucksacks, lit the way while Horrick shuffled along behind.

  “Spooky in here,” she said as they passed large stoppered jars with deformed creatures floating within. At least one of them looked like a human baby. Suddenly she let out a shriek. “One of those eyeballs moved!”

  “It was just your imagination,” Bridget said, huffing. “Place hasn’t been used for fifteen-hundred years.” Though Augum noticed she kept her gaze averted.

  They passed a stack of barrels that had leaked a dark oozing liquid over the centuries.

  “How are we going to find the recipe in this place?” Leera asked. “It’s huge …”

  Augum awkwardly shone his light at the ceiling, but it was too high up. The walls were also too far. “I don’t know, maybe with Unconceal?”

  “This is Occulus we’re talking about here.” As she passed, Leera shone her light at a large array of flasks linked together. “I doubt he’d just hide it normally. If anything, it’d be protected by layers of arcanery.”

  Augum spied a long row of potions in the darkness, glittering like stars.

  “Stop—” Bridget whispered, breathless. She nodded ahead. “What’s that?”

  Leera raised her palms. Two eyes reflected her light back from the darkness.

  “Who are you?” Augum called out, but whatever it was did not move. “Let’s just keep going, but slowly.” Maybe it was a statue …

  They took one step at a time, until Leera’s light revealed a beast of unknown origin. It had mangled limbs and cat eyes, but its head was like a misshapen bear’s.

  “I don’t think it’s alive,” Augum said. “Let’s keep going.”

  The thing did not move as they warily pushed past it. They snaked their way through a maze of strange obstacles—large cubes appearing to be made of flesh; curving walls with bone arms that stuck out; and rows and rows of wooden cabinets full of oddly-shaped teeth, bones, skulls, and what looked like rolled skin.

  At last, they found another large pair of bronze doors depicting a figure rising from the ground. They gently lowered an unconscious Garryk to the floor.

  “Is this really our only way out of this room?” Leera asked.

  Augum nodded. “That’s what the map showed. Horrick, is the recipe in here?”

  “Mine villainous unworthy asks an unanswerable query.”

  “He’s like Fentwick,” Leera said. “Simple questions only.”

  Bridget raised her palm. “Shyneo,” and a shining vine curled around her fingers and wrist. “Let’s just hope that recipe is in here.”

  Leera placed the rucksacks near Garryk. “I hate to say it, but the only way to search this place quickly is to split up.”

  They exchanged tentative looks, perhaps each hoping the other would demand they go as a group. No one spoke up. Augum knew she was right—they simply had to take a calculated risk.

  Bridget glanced down at Garryk lying motionless. “Will it be safe to leave him here?”

  “Horrick, guard this boy,” Augum said.

  “As my unworthy fouling wishes.”

  “Shyneo.” Augum’s palm lit up with crackling lightning. “If anyone gets in trouble or if you find the recipe, call out.” Wishing each other good luck, they went their separate ways.

  Augum picked the near wall and began searching shelves, lecterns, cabinets and chests of drawers—all without success. He refrained from opening any sarcophagi, of which he found more than a few, some disturbingly small. He used Unconceal often, but nothing panned out. He’d often catch one of the girls’ lights out of the corner of his eye, searching distantly like beacon fires. Judging by the dead silence, they weren’t having any luck either.

  After pushing aside a large barrel with Telekinesis, he spotted a pair of shining eyes again. This time, he approached without hesitation, finding a hulking man-like beast with a pointy horse head. Its arms and legs were massive, making the torso appear small by comparison. As he examined it closer, he spotted seams at the joints, sewn together rather crudely, though the hide was real. A thick bronze chain hung around its neck, a runic emblem on the pendant.

  His eyes took note of a fat bronze ring sitting on a table amongst a sheaf of vellum. It had the same emblem as the collar. On a hunch, he picked it up, took a few steps back from the beast, and slowly placed the ring on his left hand. The ring was so large he had to make a fist to prevent it from falling off.

  There was a strange ethereal tug similar to casting Unconceal coming from the beast. His finger tingled, though he didn’t know if that was from the cold bronze or from something else.

  “Do something,” he told the beast. “Lift that barrel,” but it only stood there. Ring had to be broken, he thought. Or maybe it worked with certain commands. He glanced at the barrel. Or maybe …

  He imagined the beast picking the barrel up. The moment the thought concluded, the thing strode past him and picked the barrel up.

  “Awesome!” He imagined it throwing the barrel at a nearby table. The beast did so, and the barrel splintered, coughing out a slew of animal bones.

  “What’s happening!” Bridget shrieked.

  “Oh, it’s fine—I just found a new pet!”

  “What!”

  “You’ll see! Keep searching!”

  He turned to the beast standing completely still before him. “I think I’ll call you Osbert,” the name he had given the first horse he learned to ride with Sir Westwood—and because Horsehead was a dumb name.

  Augum kept looking, though his attention was somewhat divided between commanding the beast and keeping an eye out for the recipe. He was clumsy with it at first, upending tables and knocking over shelves, though he soon learned he actually had to imagine it stepping over or going around obstacles.

  In another time and place, he pictured some wicked pranks he could play with it.

  “I think I found it!” Leera waved her lit arm. “Over here!”

  They quickly converged at her location.

  Leera immediately pointed behind Augum. “What is that!”

  “Osbert. He’s our new pet.” He held up his left hand. “I can command it with thoughts using this ring. Maybe he can help us somehow, especially with defense. Anyway, never mind him, what have you found?”

  Leera light up an area behind her, revealing a great podium on top of which sat a highly ornate black oak desk. “Let’s see what it is—” but she froze the moment she placed a foot on the steps, face pale, pupils dilating. Her mouth steadily opened and she began screaming, louder and louder.

  Augum and Bridget yanked her back and she fell, shivering. “It was … horrible. Horrible …”

  Augum helped Leera stand.

  “It’s been cursed with Fear.” She gestured vaguely at her head. “Couldn’t block the spell though. Too powerful.” She glanced at the podium while holding herself, still shivering. “I saw myself …” She looked to Augum, face as white as snow. “I saw myself burning alive on that step. It was … it was so real …”

  He gave her a quick hug. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  Bridget reached out a hand and arcanely tried to pull the desk, but it didn’t move. “Telekinesis doesn’t work.”

  Leera nodded at the horse beast. “What about that thing.”

  “Osbert, come here,” but it didn’t move. “Oh, right, it’s not like Horrick.” Augum imagined Osbert walking up the steps, then watched as the beast did exactly that, all the way up to the desk. He imagined it gingerly picking the desk up and slowly bringing it to them. Its muscles strained as it ripped the desk from the floor. Bolts tumbled as he paced back down, seemingly unaffected by the curse.

  “I think I want one of my own,” Leera said as Osbert dumped it before them.

  On top of the desk was a black iron tablet engraved in an unfamiliar language. The con
tours were smooth and sleek, with golden ivy adorning the borders—but it was the symbol at the top that captured their attention.

  “That’s the Helix!” Bridget said. “The symbol for Ley. This has to be it—this is the recipe!”

  Augum reached for it, but Bridget grabbed his arm. “Don’t—it could still be enchanted or cursed or something.”

  “I’ll get Osbert to do it.” He imagined Osbert picking up the tablet. The moment his unnatural hands touched it, a series of huge thin blades swung across the podium, some from the floor and some from the ceiling, built to miss the desk but slice anyone standing near it.

  “Classic,” Leera said dryly.

  “Occulus would have cast Object Alarm on it,” Bridget added.

  Leera snorted. “Yeah, well, too bad he’s dead.”

  Augum imagined that skeleton back at the Occi camp suddenly getting up from his throne. He worked up the courage and plucked the recipe from Osbert’s grip, waiting to be struck down by something.

  But nothing happened.

  It felt heavy and ice cold. He glanced around. “Should we, you know … destroy it now?”

  They thought the matter over silently.

  “Yes,” Bridget said at last, taking the tablet from him. “We’re going to destroy it anyway, right? Might as well do it now.” She ran her fingers over the carving. “Seems kind of a shame though, it’s so full of … history.”

  “No, we’re not giving it to the academy to study, Bridge,” Leera said.

  “Of course we aren’t! I was only saying how important an artifact it is—”

  “What if there are copies?” Augum asked. It was a simple question, but one that gave them pause.

  “We can’t worry about that,” Bridget said. “Now how to destroy a piece of iron …”

  “A forge,” Leera replied. “It’s the only way.”

  Augum glanced at the far wall. “There was a smithy on the map next to the Laboratorium, but the only way to get there is through the Legion.”

  “But then there’s the challenge of firing it up,” Leera said, “and a forge takes a long time to heat up.”

  “Unless it’s arcane,” Bridget said.

  “Right, so there’s that route …” Augum took a breath. “Or we can take our chances through the spawnery. I remember the map showing a back passage that returned to the sentinel room.”