Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1) (26 page)

Leera’s shoulders sagged at the sight of it.

Mrs. Stone raised an eyebrow and picked it up. “Most interesting …”

“Is it arcane—?”

Mrs. Stone placed the dagger back on the table and suspended an open palm above. “I daresay it is.”

Bridget leaned in close but did not touch it. “What does it do?”

“I have not the faintest idea; you would need to consult an arcaneologist.”

Bridget’s face fell. “Oh …”

“What’s an arcaneologist—?” Augum asked, hoping it was not a stupid question.

“Somebody who studies the arcane arts in detail and identifies arcane properties in objects,” Bridget replied glumly.

Leera frowned. “They’re expensive to hire.”

Mrs. Stone fixed her gaze on Bridget. “You wish to know if you can keep it.”

Bridget put on a bracing expression. “Um … can we?”

“You were wise to bring it to me. It may be cursed, or an instrument for necromantic work. However, if you accept the risks, you may keep it.”

Augum and Leera’s mouths fell open; he thought for sure she would confiscate it immediately.

Bridget reached for the dagger then hesitated. “But what if it
is
cursed?”

“Then you will suffer the consequences, will you not?”

Bridget glanced between Leera and Augum. Leera mouthed, “Keep it,” while he made a non-committed gesture, though he thought it would be neat to discover its powers together.

Mrs. Stone leaned forward and watched Bridget over steepled fingers, dagger resting between them all.

Bridget’s shoulders slumped. “I think I … I think I better give it to you for safe keeping, Mrs. Stone. Until we know what it does.”

“A wise decision, young lady.” Mrs. Stone removed the dagger, hiding it in her robes. Bridget nodded, avoiding Leera’s exasperated expression. Just then, a muffled banging sounded below.

“My word, I do believe our guests have arrived.”

Guests

“I can’t believe you gave it up—” Leera whispered as the trio followed Mrs. Stone downstairs.

“You’re not helping,” Bridget said through her teeth.

Augum gave her a friendly elbow. “Don’t worry, Bridge, better safe than sorry, eh?” though part of him still wished she had kept the dagger.

Bridget only grunted. The banging at the door came again, louder this time.

“Yes yes—” Mrs. Stone said, opening the chunky foyer doors with a wave of her hand. The gesture simultaneously produced a globe of blue light that lit their way.

Augum exchanged a quick look with Leera. Had they just witnessed an example of simulcasting?

After entering the vestibule, Mrs. Stone made a rising motion with her hand. The latch rose on the newly repaired outer doors, one of which opened. A gust of biting wind sent a pile of snowdrift cascading into the hall.

Three figures stood against the bright snowy landscape. The first was a tall armored man with gray hair, bushy eyebrows and steel-gray eyes. A shield hung on his back, longsword by his side. The second man was short, balding and fat, with an anxious look on his face. The third was a sullen-looking boy of about Augum’s age with neatly combed red hair. He wore a bearskin coat, reminding Augum a little of Leland.

“Mrs. Stone—what a great honor and pleasure,” the armored man said with a deep bow, fog billowing from his breath. “I am so very glad you came to our aid in such a manner. Please, allow me to—”

“Sir Eldric Gallows,” Mrs. Stone said with a somewhat weary voice. “Perhaps introductions ought to be made indoors, lest the boy freezes.”

Sir Gallows looked like he was going to protest but entered instead, followed by the fat man and the boy in the bearskin, both panting. Once inside, they proceeded to brush the snow off themselves while Mrs. Stone arcanely closed the massive door with a subtle gesture. It clanged shut with a thud that reverberated through the castle.

Sir Gallows gestured ceremoniously. “If I may introduce the heir to the Kingdom of Solia, His Royal Highness Prince Sydo Ridian the Fourth—and his minder, Lord Boron.”

Lord Boron gave a slight bow.

The prince gawked at Mrs. Stone’s lightning orb. His face contorted in a scowl. “How is it that you cannot produce such an effect, Lord Moron?”

Augum wondered if he had misheard the prince.

Lord Boron flushed. “Heh heh … now, Your Highness, I—”

“—so this is the benevolent heir to our great kingdom,” Mrs. Stone said, “the son of Wise King Ridian.”

Prince Sydo gave her a withering look. He opened his mouth to say something when Sir Gallows hastily interjected.

“Your Highness, may I introduce Mrs. Anna Atticus Stone.”

“
The
Anna Atticus Stone that all of Sithesia searches for, the one with the scion?” The prince whipped around on Lord Boron. “Ignorant fool, why did you not inform me? You have made me appear daft!”

Lord Boron sputtered while fiddling with his fingers.

“Mrs. Stone is in need of discretion, young prince,” Sir Gallows said. “For good measure, I made the decision to inform you only upon arrival.”

Sydo glowered at the knight before turning to Mrs. Stone. “Show it to me!”

The trio exchanged looks—Sydo was about to get the dressing down of his life.

“Your Highness,” Sir Gallows began, “that is most unbecoming—”

“I do not care, I want to see it! Show me the scion; show me what everyone searches for!”

Sir Gallows stiffened. “Mrs. Stone will certainly
not
show you the scion. You will stop asking for it immediately!”

Prince Sydo turned purple shaking with rage, but said no more.

Mrs. Stone made a tactful gesture at the trio. “May I present Leera Jones, Bridget Burns, and my great-grandson, Augum Stone.”

They bowed at the call of their names, as expected when in royal company.

Sydo smoothed his hair. He looked them over as if just noticing them. “I thought they were the help.”

The trio stirred, but under Mrs. Stone’s watchful gaze did not dare reply.

“Interesting choice of robes,” Sydo continued, making a face like there was a terrible stink in the air. He then proceeded to remove his bearskin, revealing a finely embroidered red doublet over a pristine white silk shirt and black velvet pants. “I find it so …
barbarian
… to wear this thing.” He threw the bearskin at Lord Boron, who barely caught it, a look of exasperation on his round face.

“It was for your own protection, Your Highness,” Sir Gallows said. He stepped past the prince toward Augum, snow falling from his shoulders with each stride. The tall knight bent a knee, fixing him with those steel-gray eyes, bushy brows crimping. “So you are the Lord of the Legion’s true son.”

Augum felt his spine tingle. “Not by choice, Sir.”

Prince Sydo suddenly appeared beside the knight, red hair quivering. “Your father murdered my father! He is a villainous traitor and I shall have his head on a spike! A branch
never
falls far from its tree—”

“Augum isn’t a traitor!” Leera said from Augum’s left.

“He certainly isn’t,” Bridget added from his right, “and Sparkstone murdered Augum’s mother.”

Augum looked to Leera and Bridget in surprise then back to Sydo. He crossed his arms. “Well, you got the villainous part right.”

“How
dare
you speak to me without deference, peasant scum—”

Bridget gasped.

“That is quite enough, Your Highness,” Sir Gallows said in a patient voice, as if this kind of thing happened all the time. He raised a thick gray eyebrow and turned his gaze to Mrs. Stone. “Is it true they are that different?”

“It is true, Eldric. Lividius seeks his son, but the two are as different as a puddle is from an ocean.”

“Lividius?”

“Lord Sparkstone as you know him.”

Sydo looked mutinous but said nothing. Sir Gallows gave a curt nod and stood. “Please do forgive our rudeness, Mrs. Stone. The journey has been long and fraught with peril. We are grateful for the hospitality and thus in your debt. If you hadn’t chanced upon us in our distress—”

Mrs. Stone made a dismissive gesture. “I hardly think it worth mentioning, Eldric. We must work together for the good of all. Perhaps now would be the time to tell the young prince what we have discussed.”

“Indeed, Mrs. Stone.” Gallows turned to Prince Sydo and Lord Boron. The prince’s fists clenched; Augum surmised he was not accustomed to being kept in the dark.

“It is my duty, as the Royal Guardian to the Crown, to secure shelter and safety for the heir to the throne. We will henceforth take shelter in this castle.”

The prince’s shoulders slumped as he peered at the barren walls. “You cannot mean what you say—this rotten shack? I hardly think it fit for royal blood!”

Lord Boron made a nervous chuckle. “Heh heh … I’m sure Your Royal Highness will find it amply adequate upon seeing the accommodations.”

Sydo smoothed his hair and flexed his jaw. “Oh, stuff it, Lord Moron.”

Augum exchanged looks with Bridget and Leera—the prince was a spoiled ass!

“Perhaps it would be best I see to the entourage,” Sir Gallows said. “We have horses, the royal wagon, four servants and another six men.”

“I recall last we met you had many more, Eldric.”

“That is true, Mrs. Stone, however the Legion surprised us; cut twenty of our men down before we could organize. We even lost our healer, though I count us lucky it had been the Black Guard and not the Red; I fear we would have been much the worse for it. There was one who was particularly dangerous though, a sorcerer with a black robe of lightning who slew most of our men, including Sir Matthew Silvers, the Havensword.”

Augum felt himself stiffen.

Mrs. Stone frowned. “From your description I would guess him to be Commander Vion Rames.”

“You know of him?”

“Indeed, he was once my apprentice, before joining Lividius.”

“She trains our enemies too?” Sydo asked.

“Manners, young prince,” Sir Gallows said. “Mrs. Stone, are there stables where we can see to the horses? I fear we also have injured that need attending to.”

“Behind the castle, but they are buried in snow and damaged from the years. I will come with you to repair them and see to your injured.” She pulled the hood of her robe over her head, tucking her long ponytail in before turning to the trio. “Can I trust the three of you to show our guests to the great dining room?”

“Yes, Mrs. Stone.”

Sydo snorted.

For a moment, Augum thought Mrs. Stone was going to deliver a most withering reproach, but she only pursed her lips.

“Is there a place to leave the wagon?” Sir Gallows asked.

Mrs. Stone arcanely swatted one of the outer doors aside. “Yes. Allow me to show you where,” and she departed with Sir Gallows. The door clanged shut behind them, drenching the vestibule in darkness.

“Got away with one there,” Leera muttered.

“I beg your pardon—”

“You’ll see. Shyneo.” Her hand rippled to life. Augum and Bridget lit their palms as well, lighting the vestibule with blue-green light.

“Shyneo,” Prince Sydo and Lord Boron chorused, their right hands lighting up with fire. The prince’s light was the weakest of everybody’s, flickering like a candle. Lord Boron’s fire was brightest of all, but only mildly so. The prince scowled when he spotted Augum’s lightning palm.

“This way, um, Your Highness,” Augum said. He led them to the marble steps.

The prince kept making snide remarks as they ascended. “And there, Lord Moron,” he would say, pointing at the giant shredded tapestry behind the landing. “Look at what they did to the tapestry—!”

Augum had to keep from saying something rude; yeah, as if he and the girls were the jackals that had torn it up.

Lord Boron mopped his brow, each step a wheezing trial. “Heh heh … I believe the castle has been abandoned for some time, Your Highness.”

Sydo dragged a finger across the banister and held it before his eyes. “Disgusting. This is what happens when you leave a castle in the hands of gutterborn—”

The girls gasped.

“Your Highness,” Lord Boron whispered, “that is a most base and uncouth word for a royal to use.”

Sydo shrugged. “What is the name of this so-called castle anyway?”

Augum extinguished his palm, the others doing the same. “We don’t know actually.”

“Then I shall title it. It shall henceforth be known as … Castle Dirtclod!”

“Heh heh, a most intriguing name, Your Highness.”

Leera turned her head so quickly her hair whipped Augum’s face. “That’s the stupidest name ever—”

“
Exactly
.” The prince flashed a triumphant grin.

Leera was going to say something else when Bridget elbowed her.

Upon reaching the third floor, the prince abruptly stopped, pointing at the child-sized suit of dented armor standing by the girls’ door. “I say, what is that—?”

Bridget waved a nonchalant hand. “Oh, that’s just Fentwick. He’s an animated suit of armor.”

“You jest with me!” Sydo marched up to Fentwick, who immediately sprang to life.

“Wouldst thou fancy a duel, mine lord?”

Sydo recoiled. “Gods, it speaks! But how can it be so?”

Fentwick bowed, joints squeaking. “I art nothing more than an arcane suit of armor, mine lord. Mine sole purpose is to train and defend thy young princes and princesses of ye castle. Wouldst thou care to duel, mine lord?”

“You shall call me prince, you sorry gathering of rust!”

“What setting dost mine lord beseech of me?”

“I said
prince
!”

“It’s no use, Your Highness,” Bridget said, sauntering around Fentwick. “He doesn’t understand. We don’t know much about him, but we’re sure he’s ancient arcane—probably been with the castle a long time; quite harmless anyway.”

Prince Sydo smoothed his red hair and began examining Fentwick, poking at the helmet and even giving him a cagey push.

“So it only wishes to duel with me—?”

Fentwick rattled to life again. “Indeed, mine lord, wouldst thou care to duel? What setting dost mine lord beseech of me—”

“And you say he trains the princes of the castle?”

Bridget shrugged. “I think he spars with whoever wants to spar. We actually haven’t tried yet.”