Valor (Book 3)
Page 52
“I said, enough, Jengo! Fetch more cloth and replace the water basin. Now, if you please.”
“Yes, Father.” Jengo gave Augum a look that promised more news tomorrow, but did as he was told.
“About the quest …” Mr. Goss began. “Were they … was the recipe …”
“It was destroyed,” Mrs. Stone replied, delicately wringing Bridget’s hair. “They are victorious. A great evil has been prevented.”
“Most marvelous news indeed!”
Mr. Okeke and Mr. Goss congratulated each other with handshakes and hugs while Jengo pumped his fist in the background.
But the look on Mrs. Stone’s face was as troubled as ever. “I am afraid I cannot stay. I risk Milham more with every visit. I shall return briefly in a tenday, when they have sufficiently rested. Please keep me informed of their wellness through the orb.”
“They managed to save that too?” Jengo caught himself and quickly bowed his head. “Yes, Mrs. Stone.”
Mrs. Stone worriedly glanced over Augum, Bridget and Leera one more time before standing. At her age, constantly being on the run was obviously taking its toll. There were more creases on her face and her posture was more stooped than Augum remembered it.
“I shall return,” and she teleported off with a THWOMP.
* * *
The trio slowly recuperated over the next tenday. They regularly received visits from Jengo’s betrothed, Priya; as well as Leland of course, who was as spritely as ever; and some notable others, such as Hanad Haroun and his daughter, Malaika, whom Augum had danced with; and even Panjita Singh, who did nothing but complain about the trio’s ridiculously dangerous quest. They were also visited by Haylee and Chaska, who seemed more distracted by each other than anything else. Haylee indeed did walk with a limp, but as long as Chaska was near, had not a care in the world. The two were an odd couple, but Augum was happy to see Haylee in a warm place in life.
The trio also heard all about the cruelty of the new mentor brought in by Mrs. Stone, but had yet to meet him as he was currently away on an errand.
Jengo pried the adventure of the castle out of them, every juicy detail, expressing not only incredulity but also a gratitude that he had not come along, for if he had, he would have certainly met a most untimely end.
As they rested up, their faces took on color and rounded out again. Leera’s insatiable appetite for sweets even abated somewhat. They slowly began studying and training. Much to their surprise, they discovered—talking to Mrs. Stone via the orb— that the crystals Leera had taken from that deep underground cavern were rare “reflecting prisms”. Mrs. Stone promised to teach the trio a difficult 6th degree off-the-books spell that paired with the crystals, a combination that, once mastered, would allow them to reflect a spell back upon its caster once daily, for they were Sun-tuned. It was something that made them squeal in delight. However, the crystals had to be carved into a mirror shape first by a special arcaneologist, something that would take time. She also expressed great interest in the golden tome and the Agonex, but said she would wait until her next visit to study them better.
News soon reached them in the form of the Blackhaven Herald. Bahbell had been declared a “historical treasure now under the guidance of His Esteemed Lordship.” Robin Scarson was trumpeted as a boy hero for trying to stop “a most villainous and heinously treasonous trio of criminals.” There was a portrait etching of him and Temper, noses notably crooked, faces resentful.
To their great relief, there was a brief mention of Garryk, thanking him for being “cooperative with the cause”. There was no mention of Peyas or Nefra or any of the other goings on, except a new addition to The Great Quest—and that was the search for the Agonex, raising the trio’s infamy level to new heights and thus placing the village of Milham in even greater danger.
At long last, Mrs. Stone returned for a brief visit one evening to give some critical personal arcane tutelage. The Agonex she decided to take with her for further study, but when she got around to opening the ancient golden tome, she gave an audible gasp.
“What is it, Nana?” Augum asked, nursing an arcanely-induced headache with mint tea.
“Merciful spirits, it is real …”
Those words instantly made everyone crowd around the tome.
Mrs. Stone turned the golden pages delicately. “This is Annocronomus Tempusari, otherwise known as Cron, an ancient off-the-books Rivican spell arcaneologists deemed to be myth. It long predates the Founding. There are legendary stories of its use in duels. But it is mostly known for the price it exacts on the caster.”
“What does it do, Mrs. Stone?” Bridget whispered.
“If the stories are true—and mind you, we are talking about more than three thousand years ago—then this spell allows the caster to travel back a short length of time, making it particularly lethal in battle.”
“And the price, Mrs. Stone?” Leera asked.
“Each casting ages the warlock …”
“By how much, Nana?”
“That I do not know, but there are stories … one of note tells of a man repeatedly casting the spell for the purpose of gambling, only to shock his wife and children upon returning home.”
Solemn looks were exchanged around the table.
“Perhaps it is not a surprise the spell had been banned at the Founding.” Mrs. Stone suddenly froze mid page turn. “I understand now …”
Leera swallowed. “Mrs. Stone?”
“I had not understood the Seers’ meaning before, but now … now we have found the path.” Her eyes were glassy and distant, voice the barest of whispers. “I daresay I struggled with the problem … ”
Jengo had to steady himself against a chair. “What … what problem, Mrs. Stone?”
Mrs. Stone let the golden page slip from her fingers. “The problem of youth.” Her gaze washed over the trio before settling on the fire. “How could ones so young and inexperienced face an impossible challenge such as this … but now it comes together in simple beauty. Of course … A destiny entwined by a single strike of lightning … and thus three would fight and learn as one … at the sacrifice of their youth … perhaps more … and when the fires burn from east to west … and the blind lead the dead … then, and only then, may the battle begin.”
“We don’t understand,” Bridget said, voice wavering slightly. “Sacrifice of their youth … what does that mean? We don’t understand—”
Mrs. Stone continued as if in a trance. “The history of it. The enormity of the challenge. A battle repeated through countless eons. Sometimes lost. Sometimes won. Always different, for the lessons have not been learned. Lessons lost to time … Every sacrifice … all to reach this point … and go further.”
Augum’s breathing intensified. “Nana, what are you saying?”
Mrs. Stone’s countenance hardened. “This will change everything.”
“What … why—?”
She slowly turned her blue-eyed gaze on him. “Because the three of you must attempt to learn this complex spell, Great-grandson … for it may be your only hope against the Lord of Death.”
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Acknowledgments
The Arinthian Line has been in the making for years, and I couldn’t have done it without the loving support of my amazing wife and editor, Tansy.
Thank you to my family, friends, my ART team, and my loyal readers for supporting my work.
Thank you for reading, and I can’t wait to reveal what happens next!
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 severbronny.com.