by Sever Bronny
Bridget picked up the tablet. “Even with Osbert, it’s too risky to fight the Legion, especially with Garryk injured. We have to go through the spawnery. Maybe it’s dormant or something.”
“Let’s go then,” Augum said.
“I think I’d have preferred a fight,” Leera muttered as they made their way back to Garryk. The boy greeted them with glazed open eyes.
“You’re awake!” Bridget said.
He swallowed weakly. “What … what happened …”
She explained everything while changing some of his bandages. Most of his wounds had healed, though not all, especially not the one on his neck.
“Thank you for … saving me …” Garryk said when she finished. His eyes wandered to the iron tablet. “What’s that …?”
“We think it’s the recipe.” Augum held it near. “It’s really important, but can you confirm it?”
Garryk was already out of breath. It was obvious it also hurt him to talk. “Need … spectacles …”
“I’m sorry but we left them behind,” Bridget said.
Augum held the tablet closer.
“Ancient Tiberran … Yes, it is … the recipe …”
They exchanged relieved looks.
“We’re going to go through the spawnery,” Augum said, “and loop around to the smithy.”
“Hurry then … Lord Sparkstone … is coming …”
Suddenly Bridget’s head whipped around to stare back into the darkness. Her voice was full of quiet urgency. “The alarm … they’re inside.”
She and Augum lifted Garryk while Leera commanded Horrick to open the doors to the spawnery. They rumbled open, sending a hot blast of steam in their direction.
“Get in,” Augum said, hearing shouts from the back of the room. He imagined Osbert following.
The sleek stone floor gave way to rock slabs, and then, ahead of them, squishy moss. The air here was strangely warm and moist.
“Close the doors, Horrick,” Leera commanded in a whisper.
“As mine vile unworthy witch commands.”
The rushing of warm air died down as the great bronze doors rumbled closed.
Leera pinched her nose. “Putrid. Stinks like a bog in here.” The moment she stepped on the moss, there was a muted groan. She recoiled as the moss began to move. A hand shot out and gripped the ground, pulling itself up.
“Undead!” Bridget cried out, pulling Garryk back along with Augum. They lowered the boy and lit up their palms. The thing gurgled another moan, spitting up dirt. Its flesh was black and rotten and wet with debris from the earth. Bones were visible through its rags. Its ancient breastplate had the crest of a jousting knight.
“A walker,” Augum said, mentally commanding Osbert to come forth.
Bridget backed away. “The crest … he’s Canterran.”
“Scion … war …” Garryk gasped from the ground.
Osbert grabbed the walker by its bone arms just as it freed itself from the ground. The walker flailed, jaws clacking, but was not strong enough to escape Osbert’s iron grip.
“How do we kill it?” Leera asked.
“Fire …” Garryk replied. “Or strong … arcanery …”
Leera slammed her wrists together, palms open. “Annihilo!” A powerful jet of water slammed into the head, blasting it apart. The walker fell to the ground in a heap of bones. “That … that worked!”
Augum ran to the walls and began examining them.
“What are you looking for?” Bridget asked.
“A torch rune.” All along the walls, human rib cages covered what had to be torches. He quickly found what he was looking for—a depiction of a torch above a rune. “Here! Is this it?”
Bridget ran over. “Yes, but did we ever figure out the trigger word for torch? I can’t remember.”
Leera dropped her rucksack. “Let’s check.” Bridget ran to her side and the pair began rifling through Mrs. Stone’s blue book on arcaneology.
Augum saw movement behind Osbert. “Another one’s rising!” He imagined Osbert grabbing it and squeezing the walker’s head. Osbert did as he was commanded, snatching the flailing thing by the head. There was a crunching sound and the walker fell to the ground in a heap. But there were echoes of distant noises now. Inhuman noises …
“Horrick, defend us against the walkers!” Augum called as another walker rose where Leera had been only moments before.
“As mine vile unworthy guest commands.” Horrick stepped between them and the walker, releasing his wooden practice blade. The moment the undead thing was free of the earth, it sprinted forward. Horrick met it with an expert blow to the shins. It fell on top of him and the pair fought.
“I got it!” Bridget tore away to the rune and slammed her palm against it. “Firemente!” but nothing happened.
“Don’t forget to envision it!” Leera said, hurriedly packing the book.
“Oh, right—Firemente!”
One by one, torches burst into life, quickly circling the room. As the darkness was beaten back, it was replaced by hundreds of forms, and every single one was moving. Some of these forms were gargantuan demons, so large they had to duck below the vaulted ceiling. Some had mangled wings, others malformed limbs. Every one of them looked like it had crawled up from hell.
Bridget went pale as death. “Gods help us … We have to go back!”
Leera was steadily retreating. “They’ll get the recipe though!”
Augum saw a sea of movement. Moss quivered and trembled as more things began to dig their way up from the ground. “I don’t believe it … it’s an entire army!” They had no choice now. “We have to go back!” Behind him, he could hear muted thumping on the doors, with an echo of rattling laughter. Tridian and Robin had to be just on the other side.
“Lee, help me pick up Garryk!” Bridget called.
The undead throng began running their way, the walkers—the fastest among them—leading the charge.
Augum made the shoving gesture. “Baka!” and the walker that was pinning Horrick to the ground flew off him. He then slammed his palms together, aiming at the next closest walker. “Annihilo!” blasting a leg off with a shot of lightning. It rabidly continued crawling toward them though.
“Horrick, open the doors!” he shouted.
“As ye wish, unworthy and uncouth scoundrel.”
“Just hurry!—”
Horrick shuffled along before making a motion at the doors. They rumbled open.
Augum heard a flurry of activity behind him, but his focus remained on the surging army. Suddenly a terrible rush ran up his spine with the realization that Horrick wouldn’t get the doors closed in time once they were through.
“Augum, the recipe, they’re com—!” but Leera’s voice was suddenly muffled, as if someone had grabbed her mouth.
Augum did the only thing he could think of—he flung the iron tablet as far as he could into the horde, before bringing his hands together.
“Annihilo!” In the space of a moment, he focused the surge on the advancing walkers. He pushed his boundaries, tapping into every last reserve of energy he had. His heart thundered as the arcanery peaked—and broke through. He felt as if his insides were sucking inwards and being propelled through his palms—and he couldn’t stop it. His entire being exploded electrically and uncontrollably—he glimpsed moss being flung along with the first wave of walkers, before his palms exploded, sending him flying back. He felt a sickening thud and all went black.
A Hard Decision
“He’s still out cold,” Augum heard Temper say. Her foul breath had been enough to wake him. “Got to admit, that was some spell.” When he heard her trundle off, he opened his eyes.
He lay on his side on a cold stone floor, hands tied behind his back, breath fogging. His head throbbed and his body ached. Torch fire rustled within ribbed cages nearby, illuminating a tall corner with two royal crimson settees. A marble bust on a pedestal stood in between, depicting a man with an iron stare. Bridget and Leera sat tie
d on one of the settees, mouths gagged with cloth, fur coats scorched.
Leera subtly elbowed Bridget and they glanced Augum’s way.
“When’ll the commander return with His Lordship you think?” Temper asked absently. She was behind him, and apparently picking at her nails.
“When he’s good and ready,” Raina said in clipped tones.
“Place gives me the creeps.”
Raina made no reply.
Temper spat on the floor. “Do you think we’ll at least get some reward?”
“You disgust me. If you were my daughter, I would have given you the throttling of your life for such a show of disrespect.”
Temper sighed. “I only spat on the floor. Wow, it’s not like it’s the end of the world or anything. Don’t be so serious.”
There was a tense silence as Augum imagined Raina glaring at Temper. He strained his peripheral vision, trying to see around without moving. A muddy foot lay near. Was it Garryk’s?
“This is boring. Why can’t we just kill them?” Temper went on.
“You thick little brat. Would you prefer to be the one killed in one of the witch’s games? We’ve lost enough soldiers. Now we have to wait until His Lordship arrives.”
Temper leaned over. “He took a bunch of them, but did you see him almost explode himself doing it?”
Augum twitched from the memory of a powerful blue flash emanating from his palms, so powerful it had sent him flying back.
“He’s awake,” Raina said. “Drag him up.”
Temper grabbed Augum’s shoulders and roughly sat him up, cackling to herself.
He spotted Garryk and gasped—his eyes were closed and he was wrapped in new, blood-soaked bandages.
“Oh, don’t like your own work?” Temper said with an evil smile. “You should be proud—even questioners wish they were that good at pain while keeping someone alive.”
No no no no no no … Mrs. Stone had warned him how dangerous wild arcanery could be, and now he’d done something so horrible it made him woozy. Temper shoved him back to the ground, but all he felt was an overwhelming nausea that churned his stomach. He had hurt poor Garryk, hurt him terribly.
“We should end his misery,” Raina said.
“Robin wants him alive for questioning. You better do what he says, because one day he’ll be your commander. You know, he doesn’t look right without his spectacles, does he? Kind of dumb.”
Augum barely heard what they were saying—the blood shooting past his ears was deafening. What had he done? It was unforgivable …
“Drag him back up,” Raina said. “We have to question him too.”
“This’ll be fun.” Temper yanked him up. He was limp in her arms, mouth hanging open, silently cursing himself a thousand times over. Bridget and Leera were moaning through their gags, no doubt furious with him.
Temper made an impatient sound with her teeth and let Augum fall back to the floor again. She strolled over to the girls, grabbing a handfuls of raven and cinnamon hair and sharply tugging.
“Shut. Up. Get it?” Temper gave one more yank before letting go. She marched back to Augum and dragged him to a sitting position.
Raina paced over and kneeled before him. “They said you threw the recipe into the horde. Is this true?”
He tried to focus on her, but all he saw was Garryk’s blood-soaked bandages. That’s what wild lightning does, that’s why it’s so dangerous. Now you know, fool. Now you know …
Raina’s hard jaw flexed. “Are you going to make me repeat myself?”
“Hit him!” Temper said. “You’ll see it feels good.”
Raina spoke through gritted teeth, still focused on Augum. “He is the lord’s son. The lord is on his way here now. Think. Use that oafish carrot brain of yours.”
“Yeah, but Robin said—”
“Enough!” She gave Temper a cold glance. “I will do the talking. You will keep an eye out for the witch. Is. That. Clear?”
Temper gave an annoyed grunt. “Keep sitting up.” She maliciously pinched Augum’s sides before standing, arms folded.
He barely felt the pain, nor did he care about her little amusements. He had done a great wrong, a wrong no one would ever be able to erase.
“Now, boy, did you or did you not throw the tablet into the horde?”
“You just repeated yourself,” Temper mumbled, but Raina ignored her.
The soldier slowly grabbed Augum’s coat and brought him near. He got a subtle whiff of scented berry oil and roasted meat. “Just because I do not think it wise to harm you, does not mean the same for your …” she glanced at the girls, “… friends.”
“Yeah, that’s right!” Temper kicked Leera, who surrendered a muffled gasp.
“Don’t you touch her!” Augum struggled in Raina’s iron grip.
“Then answer the question,” Raina said in a deadly whisper.
“Yes, I threw it into the horde! And you’ll never get it out.”
“You are a fool.”
Suddenly Augum remembered a beast with a horse’s head. Was Osbert still back in the spawnery? And the ring—was it still on his finger? He couldn’t tell because his hands were numb from the rope. There was only one way to find out—he envisioned Osbert walking from out of the darkness, grabbing Raina, and throwing her against the wall.
“What are you looking over there for, look at me when I’m talking to you!” Raina grabbed his jaw and yanked it back. She glared at him, features as chiseled as the hard bust in the corner. “Where’s that crone of yours? Can we find her with the orb?”
No, he thought, but she can find you as soon as that Sphere of Protection spell wears off …
“Maybe it is time your friends suffered for your silence—” but suddenly a great pair of hands clamped around Raina’s neck and pulled. Augum witnessed the veins bulge on her forehead before she was sent flying against the wall, slamming into it with a dull thud and crashing to the ground, still as pond water.
“Baka! Baka! Baka!” Temper screeched, flailing her arms in a windmill pattern. Predictably, the spell had no effect, as she hadn’t performed the correct gesture. Augum envisioned Osbert slamming an open palm into Temper’s stupid face. A moment later, there was a tremendous smacking sound and she was sent sprawling with a yelp. Augum then envisioned Osbert picking her up with one hand and gagging her with the other. The task was clumsily done the moment the thought concluded.
Bridget and Leera were struggling while he sidled his way over to Raina’s unconscious body. He turned himself around and grabbed her dagger, using it to cut through the rope. Once he was free, he did the same for Bridget and Leera.
“Aug, you didn’t do it!” Leera was sputtering.
“She lied—” Bridget added quickly.
“What are you talking about?”
“Garryk—it was Robin that cast the First Offensive at him.”
Augum didn’t know how to feel. There was a sense of relief, but it didn't changed the fact that poor Garryk was suffering horribly and again on the brink of death.
“I wish we still had some Golden Vitae,” Bridget said, kneeling by the boy’s side.
“We need to get out of here,” Leera said. “Aug? Concentrate.”
“Right.” He glanced at Raina’s still form. “Where are Tridian, Robin and the other guard?”
Leera and Bridget began tying up Temper, who struggled in Osbert’s powerful grip, a giant hand clamped over her mouth. One entire side of her face was beet red from the slap.
Meanwhile, Augum tied up Raina.
“Spiller’s dead,” Leera said. “He got locked in with the horde. And Tridian and Robin went back to the doors with Horrick. I think they want to try to get the recipe. They could be back any moment though.” She nodded at Osbert’s hands clamped around Temper’s mouth. “Make him let go so we I can gag her.”
Soon as Augum gave the thought commands, Temper gave Leera a head butt, only to break her own nose doing it.
Leera rubbed her head fr
om Temper’s clumsy attempt, smirking all the while. “Serves you right.” She shoved a cloth in Temper’s mouth and tied it around her head.
Augum spotted Leera’s rucksack. “The orb—is it in there?”
“Yes, still enclosed though.”
“We have to make a decision—we go for the recipe before my father gets here or make a run for it.”
“We have one injured already,” Bridget said. “Garryk needs help as soon as possible, and we don’t know how long it’ll be before the Orb of Orion is free of that spell, or even if Mrs. Stone can get us out of here. Though if your father gets that recipe …”
Augum glanced between Bridget and Leera. Dark circles ringed their eyes, their faces were gaunt, and they had to be at least as thirsty and hungry as he was. Yet Garryk fared much worse—his forehead was red and he was shivering, perhaps from fever, and the bandages were dripping blood. A decision had to be made …
He grabbed the other rucksack and handed it to Bridget. “You two take Garryk through the throne room and on to Occulus’ quarters. There might be an escape portal there. If not, hide and wait for Sphere of Protection to expire. I’ll come as soon as I can, but if you run into trouble, don’t wait for me. There’s one closed door to go through, and you know what that means …”
Leera stood. “No, we face them together. We stand a better chance that way.”
“And leave Garryk here alone? What if my father comes? They won’t harm me, but you two …” He left it unsaid. “I can do this.”
“He’s right, Lee, we can’t risk it,” Bridget said.
Leera gave him an angry look. “Have to play hero, do you?” and stormed past to check on Raina’s bonds.
Bridget gave him a sympathetic smile. “We’ll do our best, Aug. How will you find us?”
“I’ll cast Object Track on the orb like you did.”
She helped him withdraw it from the rucksack and he went through the motions and imagery associated with the spell. “Vestigio itemo discovaro.”
“Leave … me …” Garryk wheezed when Augum finished. “My … family …”
