Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1) (23 page)

Bridget closed the book and slid it back under the bed. “Now the only question is on what …”

Augum’s brain had not fully recovered from earlier arcane efforts, and now with all this studying it felt like mush. His thoughts returned to Mrs. Stone. Where had she gone this time?

The windows shuddered from a particularly strong gust. Outside, the snow blew horizontally.

Leera gave the coals a stir with a fire-iron. “We could go upstairs and find something to repair, or explore the second floor, or even the rest of this floor; it’d be neat to find the throne room.”

Bridget looked to Augum. “What do you think?”

“Well, if we go down, there’s definitely lots to repair, but if we stay on this floor or go up, we can at least keep an eye on the storm while we practice.”

“Good idea,” Leera said. “Not quite in the mood for the lower castle anyway.”

Bridget stood up and clapped her hands together. “Up it is then.”

Leera’s sharp brows rose. “Ooo, maybe we’ll even find the king and queen’s chambers.”

“—or treasure,” Augum added, imagination ablaze. “Let’s get my sword and go.” Together they retrieved his blade from his room, arcanely lit their palms, and began their way upstairs. Windows rattled as they crept up the dusty marble steps. Shadows played long and sharp to the sway of their hands, their lights weaker than usual due to arcane exhaustion.

Leera glanced at the rattling window between the third and fourth floor. “Storm’s getting worse.”

Augum grinned. “Looks like a blizzard.”

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

Bridget picked up a small scrap of parchment from a stair. “Hey, think the repair spell works on paper?”

Leera found another scrap by Augum’s foot. “Don’t know, can’t remember the book saying anything about it.”

Augum also found a piece and handed it to Bridget. “Only one way to find out.”

Leera frowned. “Don’t see many pieces to work with here …”

“So who wants to try first?” Bridget asked.

“You go ahead,” Leera said, “it’s your find.”

“All right.” Bridget extinguished her palm, darkening the landing. She squinted trying to make out what was on the paper. “Wish I knew how to chronocast …”

“‘Chronocast’?” Augum asked.

“It’s when you cast one spell and then another while the original spell is still in effect.” She kneeled, piling the scraps on the marble floor. “It’s something you learn as you go along.”

“Oh. I thought it meant casting two spells at the same time.”

“That’s impossible—”

“No it’s not,” Leera said. “It’s called simulcasting, and it’s extremely difficult but
not
impossible. From what I understand, there are two rules—the first is you have to be extremely talented, and the second is that it can only be done using an elemental spell and a standard spell. You can’t just cast two standard spells or two elemental spells at once.”

Bridget’s lips thinned. “Never heard of it—”

“Well it’s real, Mrs. Stone can do it; my mum told me a story about it from when she was at the academy.”

Bridget made a dismissive gesture. “She was just telling tales.”

“Wasn’t a tale, Bridge, I’m telling you, Mum
saw
it.”

Augum leaned up against the cool marble banister. “What’s the story?”

“It happened near the end of the Narsinian war,” Leera began quietly, “when Narsus’ armies marched on Blackhaven. His soldiers raided the academy, killing a bunch of teachers and students, even though Narsus promised to stay away from there. Well as you can imagine, Mrs. Stone—who was headmistress at the time—got very angry; Mum says you should have seen the look on her face—” Leera paused for dramatic effect.

Augum made an impatient motion with his hand. “Then what happened—?”

“Mrs. Stone told the students to hide while she made her way outside. Everyone took shelter in classrooms, but Mum managed to peek through the curtains. Well, along with a whole bunch of soldiers, there were these two powerful Narsinian warlocks there, one of whom graduated from the academy. Mrs. Stone just strode right up to them. What happened next is almost unbelievable, even Mum said so—and she saw it with her own eyes. Anyway, Mrs. Stone paralyzed
both
warlocks
and
simultaneously cast chain lightning on the soldiers. Those two sorcerers were forced to watch their troops sizzle like chicken, and there was nothing they could do.”

“But that’s crazy—” Bridget said. “Chain Lightning’s like a 13th degree elemental spell and Paralyze Group—a what, 14th degree standard spell—?”

“That’s not the end of it—after the soldiers were killed, she let the two warlocks go just to send Narsus a message. She must have known what she was doing because it wasn’t long until Narsus himself came with a lot more soldiers, and we all know what happened next.”

“She killed Narsus in the dungeons below the academy,” Augum said.

“And now we know which spell she used,” Leera said. “That off-the-books one she used to collapse her cave. I wonder if she simulcasted against him.”

“Dare you to ask her,” he said.

“Forget it, I like my head where it is.”

Bridget contemplated the scraps of parchment at her feet. “Hmm, well if your mother saw it … Maybe we can ask Mrs. Stone indirectly about what happened sometime.”

“Indirectly—?”

“Yeah, by starting a conversation on chronocasting, then ask her if it’s possible to simulcast. Maybe she’ll tell us that way.”

“She won’t,” Augum said with a shake of the head.

“How do you know?”

“It’s Mrs. Stone—she
hates
talking about herself. But if you insist,
you
can be the one to ask.”

Bridget’s eyes flashed. “Maybe I
will
then—”

A silence passed as she fiddled with the scraps of parchment while Augum stood red-faced. What had just happened? Why was Bridget angry with him?

“You want to try repairing this then?” Leera asked in a delicate voice.

“Ugh, might as well—” Bridget arranged her hands just right and sat quiet, mustering her concentration.

Leera gave Augum a look that said
don’t worry about it
.

“APREYO!” but nothing happened. Bridget sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Augum.”

“Don’t even give it another thought.”

“This whole thing is just so … trying and so new … and after everything that’s happened …”

“I understand.” He smiled.

Bridget smiled back, straightened her robe and splayed out her hands again. “Apreyo.” The papers moved, turning this way and that, coming together to create some kind of picture. A few more pieces flew from above and below the landing, until the parchment appeared half-complete. Upon finishing, she plopped on the marble floor, pale from the effort.

Leera leaned forward. “It’s a map!”

“Good job, Bridge,” Augum said, genuinely impressed.

“Thanks.” She picked up the map, stood and inspected it. “Looks like some kind of room, but I can’t make out anything else; missing pieces must be out of range.”

Leera’s eyes brightened. “Could be a treasure room …!”

“We need to find the rest though,” Augum said. “Let’s try casting the spell in different places.”

Bridget folded the map and tucked it away. “Good idea. We could take turns, it’d be great practice. Let’s go.”

They made their way up another flight of steps to the howl of a very strong gust; Augum swore the floor actually shook. He had a vision of something large stomping in the bowels of the castle. Suddenly he was glad they had chosen to go up instead of down—what if they had been in the cellar and lost their light? He thought of the crypt and shivered, imagining a bony hand on his shoulder.

The fourth floor appeared much like the third, but with refuse strewn about everywhere, from torn scraps of parchment to pieces of furniture.

“I bet that behind those doors is that room with the round window,” Augum said, pointing at a pair of oaken doors that, if they were one floor below, would have opened into Mrs. Stone’s room. He turned the handles; the doors creaked as they swung inwards. An enormous round stained-glass window greeted them, allowing them to look out into the blizzard.

“If the castle was a one-eyed giant, that would be its eye,” Leera said.

“Sir Westwood used to say castles had a spirit, each with its own unique personality.”

“Let’s just hope this one isn’t evil then.”

They exchanged looks before inspecting the room.

On the ground was even more debris—broken furniture and bottles, torn spines of books, ripped scrolls, shattered glass, as well as copious amounts of loose or torn parchment. Bookshelves from floor to ceiling covered all wall space and a thick pile of dust coated everything.

Bridget shook her head. “Must have been quite the library. What a loss …”

“Look at all this,” Leera said, picking up scrap after scrap of torn parchment. “This would take years to repair!”

“Imagine the secrets these books hold though,” Augum said.

Bridget unfolded the map. “At least it’s a great place to practice.”

“Whose turn is it?” Leera asked.

Bridget put the map down onto a clearing she made with her foot. “Augum—want to try?”

“Guess so.” He crouched, closed his eyes, and spent time envisioning the map repairing itself. Then he flattened his palms out over it. “Apreyo.”

The map fluttered while a few more pieces flew from the pile, attaching to the parchment. Just when they thought that was the last of them, they heard rustling from underneath a broken desk. Bridget and Leera quickly pushed it aside, allowing one last piece to shoot out.

“It’s almost complete,” Leera said. “Nice work, Aug.”

Augum slumped, dizzy. “I thought for sure I was going to lose concentration when you two moved the desk. That’s a tough piece of arcanery.”

“It sure is,” Bridget absently replied, inspecting the map alongside Leera. “Where do you suppose this passageway starts?”

“Has to be somewhere in the castle,” Leera said, “but we’ll need this piece here to know exactly where.”

Augum crowded close. “Think it’s underground, the walls look rocky—but yeah, we need that piece. So, do we want to practice some more in here or move on?”

Bridget put away the map and glanced around. “It’ll be difficult, but let’s at least try to repair some of the furniture,” and so they took turns casting Repair, advising each other on how to get it just right. They also took turns casting Shine to conserve arcane energy. Meanwhile, the blizzard raged on, caking the giant window with snow.

After two hours, they had managed to repair the desk, two library tables and eight chairs. They had even cleared the debris off to one side.

“That should make the room a bit more livable,” Augum said, wincing from an arcane-induced headache.

Leera collapsed into a chair, dusting her hands. “Now all it needs are some books … who wants to spend the next hundred years repairing a shelf’s worth?”

Augum snorted.

Bridget approached the window. “Must have been a great place to study, especially with the view.” She recoiled as a sudden gust rattled the glass.

Augum eyed the frame, wondering if it would hold in this storm. He imagined it abruptly crumpling and all of them getting sucked out into the night. “Let’s move on, my concentration’s shot anyway; don’t know if I can repair another thing tonight.”

Leera massaged her temple. “I second that.”

Bridget moved to the door. “We did get a lot accomplished already; I think we’re getting the hang of the spell.”

“We’ll see if that’s enough for Mrs. Stone,” Leera added as they left.

They explored the rooms flanking the library—more broken bookshelves, desks, chairs, glass and torn paper. Bridget pronounced them study rooms. Too tired to do anymore repairing, they left everything as is, though they did find a few more examples of the letter “A” carved into the furniture.

Then, as they passed the staircase, there came a metal shuffling sound from within the southwest battlement.

The trio froze. Something moved at the far edge of their light, deep inside the battlement.

“Who’s there?” Augum asked, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He unsheathed his sword.

“Wouldst thou fancy a duel, mine lord?” asked a nasal voice from the darkness.

Bridget shrieked, Leera covered her mouth and Augum nearly dropped his sword. They scurried back to the staircase.

“A duel—?” Augum asked.

“Indeed, mine lord. What setting dost mine lord beseech of me—defender, beginner, intermediate, advanced, or expert?”

Augum exchanged mystified looks with Bridget and Leera.

A gust of wind sent windows clattering and the trio instinctively took a step downstairs.

“Come forward so we can see you!” Augum said in the most menacing tone he could muster.

Something advanced, clanking and clattering. The trio took another step downstairs. A suit of dented child-sized armor limped to a stop just at the edge of their light. It held a wooden practice sword in a gauntleted hand.

“Thou hath besought, thus hither I come,” it said in that nasal voice.

Leera snorted a laugh before slamming a hand over her mouth. She took a few steps closer, lit palm held forward. “Who are you?”

The suit of armor rattled as it bowed. “Fentwick at thine service, mine lady—trainer, defender and sparring partner to thee young princes and princesses of ye castle.”

Augum could hardly believe what he was seeing. “Are you a ghost?”

“Nae, mine lord, merely an arcane suit of armor. Dost mine lord care to duel?”

Augum sheathed his sword, noticing he had been able to keep his hand lit throughout the ordeal, and the same went for Leera and Bridget. They were getting better at Shine.

He took a cautious step forward. “How long have you been here?”

“Long, mine lord?”

“Yes, how—long—have—you—been—in—this—castle?”

“He’s not stupid, Augum,” Bridget said. “It’s probably just not the kind of question he could answer. Interesting how he speaks in the old tongue though.”

Fentwick rattled to life again. “Mayhaps mine lord or mine lady wouldst care to duel? I canst set mine self to defender, beginner, intermediate, advanced, or expert rank as befits thou needs.”