Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1) (16 page)

Mrs. Stone ambled over to the fireplace. With a flick of her hand, the wood roared to life. The trio dropped their rucksacks and raced to warm up by the fire.

“Augum, please unroll the blankets, we are going to sleep by the fire tonight,” Mrs. Stone said after they had warmed up a little.

“Yes, Mrs. Stone.” He made the bedding as comfortable as possible while the girls stared into the flames. He knew what was on their minds.

“I know it has been a very trying day,” Mrs. Stone said as the trio tucked in, “but I want you to know that you are safe now. Tomorrow is a new day and a new beginning for all of you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Stone,” they chorused.

Mrs. Stone stood watching the fire for some time before she too retired. As exhausted as he was, Augum had a hard time falling asleep. Judging by how much everyone rolled about, he guessed he was not the only one.

Questions

Augum awoke to a sharp ray of sunshine in his face. He sat up and looked around, yawning. Bridget and Leera were still asleep, Mrs. Stone notably absent. The fire had reduced to glowing embers, yet the room retained some warmth. He clambered out from under the blanket, stretched, and stumbled over to a window.

A sparkling ocean of snow blanketed everything, reflecting sunlight through the towering windows, painting the ceiling with prismatic patterns. Something else flashed below. He squinted through the brightness, finding Mrs. Stone hunched in the clearing, right arm ceremoniously waving about.

What was she up to?

He left as quietly as he could, the castle silent and frosty, freezing his breath. Sunlight reflected down from somewhere up high, dimly lighting the cold marble steps. Augum tiptoed through the dark foyer, pushed open the massive doors to the vestibule, and made his way outside, climbing over the rubble pile.

After carefully descending the other side, he got his first good look at the castle, glistening black in the sunlight. Arrow slits pierced the two battlements. The entire front face shot up four floors, the top two of which had windows. The six windows to their room sat on the third floor. The fourth floor had one enormous circular leaded-glass window, flanked by two pairs of arched windows. Above that was a terraced keep rising four more stories, each story smaller than the last, culminating in a sharp watchtower. Rooms, balconies and minarets jutted strategically from the facade.

Mrs. Stone stood near the snow-covered fountain, its top crowned by two warlocks frozen in an epic duel. She muttered while her hand made a complicated gesture. He crunched over and cleared his throat, hoping he was not disturbing an important spell.

“Mmm—?”

“Good morning, Mrs. Stone, I was just curious what you were up to.”

She turned to face him, wrinkles catching the morning sun. “I have just concluded adding one last protective enchantment. Have the girls woken?”

“I thought it best to let them sleep.”

She nodded. “Prudent. I expect you to continue to be sensitive; they lost their parents, friends, and almost everyone they knew—whereas you gained a great-grandmother and a father responsible for those deaths.”

“Of course, Mrs. Stone.” She needn’t have even mentioned it.

“But you will need their friendship too, as they will need yours.”

He nodded, wondering exactly what that meant. Did she expect them to stay? He shielded his eyes from the sun. “Mrs. Stone—?”

“Mmm?”

“I have a lot of questions.”

“I expect so.”

His words tumbled like logs over a waterfall. “Why didn’t you tell me that I was your great-grandson? Why was I left with the Pendersons? Who is my mother—?”

She closed her eyes and turned to the sun, soaking in its warmth, hands behind her back. “Difficult questions, ones perhaps best answered if we continue the story about your father.”

“My father …” He still could not believe the Lord of the Legion was his father—
his father!

“At fourteen years of age, Lividius began his first year at the academy and officially became my apprentice. I took a closer hand in the boy’s upbringing, thinking a strong arcane focus was just what he needed.

“But Lividius hadn’t changed. Instead, he learned to use charm to manipulate people. Dark rumors soon reached my ears, none of which I could prove, for he became secretive. He began to seethe with quiet jealousy. My famous pursuits and duels in the arcane community were intolerable for him. Further, his schoolmates held him to a higher standard simply because I, his guardian and mentor, was also headmistress. I only made matters worse by focusing my attentions on the problem of a young necromancer by the name of Narsus. Looking back, I think that was when it began.”

Augum blinked. “What began?”

“Do you recall the horse your father sat on?”

“Yes, it was sort of … dead.”

She raised her index finger. “Or rather
undead
. I believe your father is, and has been for some time, learning necromancy
in addition to the lightning element.”

“But … why?”

“A deeply rooted fascination with fear, death and power. I suspect that with his talent in the lightning element, he endeavored to surpass the most powerful necromancer known—Occulus. But I knew nothing of his exploits then—I still hoped for a change in his heart. At twenty-one years of age and in his seventh year at the academy, I thought that change had finally come in the form of a young lady.”

“My mother …”

“Yes.” Mrs. Stone gestured ahead. “Walk with me.”

They began pacing around the yard, slowly circling the fountain. The sun shone brightly overhead, though the air remained sharply cold. Two small winter birds started a chortling conversation in the forest.

“Your mother was the opposite of your father in many ways—she was giving, trusting, caring and emotional, with a radiant smile she would eventually pass on to her only child.”

Augum unconsciously touched his cheek.

“Somehow, she reached your father’s soul. For the first time in what felt like years, I remember seeing him laugh without malice. She was a joy to be around and single-handedly restored my hopes in him.”

“What was her name?”

“Terra Titan, of the Titans of Sierra, growers of Titan grape and makers of Titan wine.”

Those grapes came from his mother’s family? He could almost taste that sweet and sour flavor on his tongue.

“The Titan clan was a fierce tribe of lightning warlocks, whose blood flowed rich with talent. It was that talent, her beauty and vibrancy that drew Lividius like a moth to flame. One year later, in his eighth and what would be his last year at the academy, they married.”

“Did she know about his necromancy?”

“I shall get to that. After they married, Lividius renewed quarreling with me about the scion, using the wedding as leverage. By then, Terra began to see her husband in a new light and spent many a night crying on my shoulder. This infuriated Lividius. At last, perhaps finally understanding he would not receive the scion from me, he cut me out of his life and disappeared with her. For nineteen years, I heard nothing other than rumors of his travels in distant lands, performing strange rituals. Think of that—
nineteen years
. What darkness had he been up to during all that time? What had poor Terra witnessed? One thing is certain, and that is that he continued his studies in necromancy, also achieving his 20th degree in the lightning element, a most difficult and rare feat.”

“What did you do all that time, Mrs. Stone?”

“I tried to move on with my life. I occupied myself with the Narsinian war, took on new apprentices, managed the academy, and continued my own studies, striving for the most difficult and elusive goal in all of arcanery—mastery of my element. After defeating Narsus, I used the opportunity to retire from the world. I had no inclination to deal with the fame that I knew would come from my accomplishment. Besides, I was eighty-five years old, having spent thirty-five of those years as Headmistress of the Academy of Arcane Arts. I was simply exhausted.

“I spent the following years exploring Sithesia’s more distant lands, finally achieving that life-long goal of mastery in the lightning element. I also built a cave into the side of Mt. Barrow, believing Solia would forever be my home. There I would spend most of my days, enjoying the crisp mountain air and quiet solitude. You are fourteen, therefore you were born soon after my withdrawal from the world, and since I still had not heard from Lividius, I knew nothing of you.”

Augum imagined the famous landmark overseeing Blackhaven, the capital of Solia. “He said I was born in the Black Castle …”

“Yes, during Lividius’ ascent to power. It was then, sometime after your birth, that I believe something terrible transpired.”

“What do you think it was?”

Mrs. Stone stopped to peer at him, half her face in shadow and half in the sun. “I believe your father tried to involve your mother in the necromantic arts. Or, after twenty years of putting up with his possessive nature, she had simply had enough. After all, she had a toddler—you—to think of by then.

“Regardless of the reason, she took you and ran away. Your father, whose following had greatly grown by then, had your mother tracked down. They found her alone. When your father demanded your return, she told him you died as she fled. As you know, I recently went to Antioc to procure provisions. On a hunch, I stopped at the ancient library there and checked the archives. It turns out the Penderson family owed the Titan clan a debt that had been marked as paid sometime after your birth. I suspect that in exchange for that debt, they were to raise you as one of their own.”

Augum scoffed. “One of their own …”

“Consider it a better fate than ending up by your father’s side.”

He sighed. “My father didn’t believe my mother when she told him I had died, did he?”

“He did not. In fact, your father immediately suspected me of taking you, perhaps thinking I wanted an heir to pass the scion to other than him. In that last regard, he was quite correct, only it was an idle dream for me, for of course I did not yet know there was a new heir. Further, he never truly believed I died fighting Narsus—he thought I was too strong. In that, he was also correct. Your father sought me out and found me on Mt. Barrow, the only one to do so.”

She continued pacing, the snow crunching underfoot. “Our meeting, however, was … unpleasant. He accused me of harboring you and once again demanded the scion. It was only then I discovered that he had a son and that I was a great-grandmother. So you see, I learned about you from him.”

“I was born because he wanted the scion, wasn’t I?”

“An astute observation, Augum, and one I agree with. Perhaps he thought I would bequeath it to him if he produced an heir. When he found out I did not have you in my possession, it nearly broke him. Only then did he truly think you were lost. The years that followed were supposedly his darkest. I, too, believed you gone forever, until eleven years later, when I found you on the mountain, clothes burnt to a crisp yet you yourself unharmed.”

He recalled flying over fields of yellow grass … a bright flash …

“Perhaps it was fate,” she continued, glancing skyward, “perhaps providence, or just sheer luck. In any case, there you were, safe and in my care.”

“But how did you know it was me?”

“By your uncanny resemblance to your parents, but you confirmed it when you spoke your name. The fact you survived the strike of raw lightning was additional proof. Remember who you descend from, Augum. You have the same ancient blood I do.”

He tried to think of the name of his ancestor. He knew it was someone important, but too much new information stuffed his mind; besides, he had other questions he wanted answered first.

“Why didn’t you say anything right away? Why did I have to do those tests?”

She adjusted her long silver ponytail. “Knowledge can be dangerous, Augum. That is why, for your safety, I chose to withhold certain facts. As for the tests, I did not want you to study the lightning element just because it ran in your family, but rather that you had a passion for it—”

“—I do, Mrs. Stone, I really do—it’s what I want!”

“After seeing how hard you worked on that mountain, I know that now. However, I also did not tell you because I needed to know the content of your character. I could not mentor someone—”

“—unworthy,” he said slowly, remembering rescuing the injured little bird, a test his father had failed.

She said nothing as they walked, her finely embroidered robe glittering in the sun. The blood on it was dry and browning.

“So what happened to my mother? Where is she?” Just the idea of meeting her made his insides buzz.

Mrs. Stone stopped and sighed, turning her face to shadow. “I heard this from one of your father’s followers as he lay dying—when Lividius recaptured your mother, not only did she swear you had died, but she also dared to say she was leaving your father forever. He flew into a rage, and …” She trailed off.

Augum dropped his head and closed his eyes. Even though he did not know his mother, nor had any memory of her, it was difficult to hear.

Murderer …

In that moment, he truly hated his father.

“We must be free to make choices in life, Augum. Possessive attachment is a terrible thing. You would be wise to heed its lesson. Your mother knew your father’s heart. She understood it was only a matter of time until he tracked her down. That was why she put you up with the Pendersons. She saved your life, perhaps even knowing hers was forfeit.”

“So my father murdered my mother, and now he wants me just for the scion.”

“That appears to be the case.”

Augum was the one to resume walking this time. “Mrs. Stone, what did you mean when you said that I’ll need my friends later?”

She placed her arms behind her back as she walked. He had a momentary glimpse of the headmistress she once was.

“There will come a day when I am not around to protect you. That is when you will need your friends most. Care for them. Learn with them. Respect them. All the while, be on your guard, for your father will do anything to take possession of the scion simply
because
it is the family heirloom. Further, his feelings of betrayal know no bounds, for he believes I stole you and the scion from him.”