Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4) (15 page)

“Of that there is no doubt. A historical figure of great import I pride myself to be associated with.” Harvus took a sip of wine. “And she is quite clever, I must say. Did you know she enchanted the Orb of Orion with a powerful version of Object Track? She did the same to the Agonex. She also cast some kind of anti-teleport spell, giving permissions to certain people to bypass those protections. I have only heard tales of such rare off-the-book spells—and of course we know of the 15th degree spell Sanctuary—but still, it is quite something to see the practical application.” He cackled.

Mr. Goss chuckled along. “I am sure I understand,” though his perplexed face said otherwise. “But why the books, Leopold?”

“Oh, I was merely trying to understand how the spells functioned—for academic purposes of course—but have had little luck. Her level of knowledge is simply too great, her arcanery too complex. But what a wonderful challenge it is to … you know, attempt to understand them.” Another sip.

“Well she
is
the only living master. She even has a statue at the top of the stairs at the Academy of Arcane Arts.”

“I am sure the Legion has torn it down by now, Mr. Goss. And she perhaps
was
the only living master. We have not heard from her in a while. I fear the worst.” He sighed. “We must be brave—for the sake of the children.”

“For the sake of the children.”

Augum hated the way Harvus spoke about Nana. Nonetheless, the man’s plans were as clear as day now—he was trying to remove Nana’s protective spells on the artifacts so he could sell them.

The two men sat on the log, chuckling in reflective mirth between sips of wine. Mr. Goss finally leaned over. “What are you going to do if Mrs. Stone does not return?”

Harvus stopped smiling. “Well, I am owed a great deal of coin, you see. My time is most precious these days, and it is not easy training such incompetent brats.”

“I am sure it cannot be easy at all.” Mr. Goss poured Harvus the last of the white wine, though Augum noted he himself was still on his second glass, which remained half-full.

Mr. Goss gestured at the Orb of Orion, nestled in the grass beside them. “These objects must surely be worth some coin.”

Harvus smiled. “They are worth far more—” Suddenly he stopped smiling and sat back. He looked down at the basket and back at Mr. Goss, face contorted with suspicion. “Mr. Goss, are you trying to get me drunk?”

Mr. Goss swallowed while adjusting on the log bench. “Heavens no, Leopold, I—”

Harvus placed the glass back into the basket and hastily stood. “I do not know what I have been saying, Mr. Goss. I fear myself slightly inebriated. I do not have any intention of selling these precious artifacts. I am afraid I must ask you to take the basket and leave. The children and I have important training to do.”

Augum thought that if Harvus kept calling them children, he would develop his own facial tick.

“But Leopold—”

“It is
Mr.
Harvus.” There was no mistaking his tone now.

Mr. Goss pushed his spectacles back up his nose and nodded. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Harvus. I hope we can do it again sometime.” He turned to leave, conveniently forgetting the basket full of treats and wine. He stopped halfway up the small forest valley. “Mr. Harvus, if I may, will you consider allowing the trio to have supper? It is getting late. Perhaps they may still be able to join the tail end of the feast—”

“Impossible, Mr. Goss, good evening to you.”

Mr. Goss nodded somberly. “Good evening.” He cast the trio a last pitiful glance and left.

Beaten

It was dark and cloudy when Mr. Harvus watched Mr. Goss depart, shifting his weight from foot to foot while wringing his cotton-gloved hands. His beady eyes kept flicking between the pumpkin-sized Orb of Orion and the bottle of Titan wine sitting in the basket of sweets.

The trio watched him like hawks.

Choose the wine, Augum kept thinking, choose the damn wine!

At last, Mr. Harvus took a seat, mumbling to himself, and picked up the blue book.

Augum fell back against the tree trunk in defeat. If only he could get the man’s attention back to the wine somehow … He bit his lip in thought, eventually deciding to try something simple—he subtly raised his hand and, concentrating on the wine bottle, made it move a little.

Harvus lowered the book ever so slightly to stare at the basket. After a moment of apparent indecision, he suddenly tossed the book aside and snatched the bottle of wine. He scrambled at the cork like a drowning rat, before using Telekinesis to pop it off. He tipped the bottle to his lips and sucked greedily.

Augum was leaning forward in gleeful disbelief, as were Bridget and Leera.

Harvus slowly put the bottle down, staring at it with invigorated eyes. He stood, cleared his throat, and said, “Shyneo.” Glowing green vine wrapped itself around his palm. He placed the bottle and books into the basket, picked it up, and scooped up the Orb of Orion.

“You are not to move until I say so,” he said, glaring at each of them in turn. “Focus on your studies.”

Bridget raised her hand just as it began to rain a little. “But Mr. Harvus—”

Harvus made a bizarre barking sound like a tiny dog. He stared Bridget down before marching to the hastily erected cabin, where Augum heard another long gulp of wine.

The rain graduated to fat drops that lingered on the needle branches. Augum drew his hood, as did the girls. They sat in hopeful silence, listening to every sound from inside the cabin. Harvus’ distrustful face repeatedly appeared in the window. His light pulsed and his face was as red as the wine. After the umpteenth appearance, he burped and fell back with a thud. The light inside the cabin instantly went out.

For a moment, the trio sat there, stunned. At last, they crept forward as if readying to commit some great robbery.

“I think he’s out,” Augum whispered, crowding around the window with Bridget and Leera.

“A bottle of Titan will do that,” Leera said. “But there’s only one way to find out for sure.” Her large eyes bored into his. She held up her hand. Augum matched it with his own and they slowly closed the distance, until their hands touched. A burning sensation immediately emitted from Augum’s palm and he recoiled, Leera doing the same. Together, they checked on Harvus. He moaned and turned, snoring. The alarm that would have gone off in his head after they touched had not woken him.

Leera kept glancing between the loaf of a man on the dirty floor and Augum, her face wet with rain. “Screw it,” she said, and drew Augum near. The burning was intense as they kissed, both wincing through the pain. They had to let go quickly after, both holding their lips but smiling.

Bridget’s voice melted. “That … that was so romantic.”

Leera smiled. “Missed you, Aug.”

“Missed you too.”

“Hurts like I’m on fire though.”

“Maybe I can help.” Bridget grabbed them both by the hands and marched them back to the girls’ cabin across the stream. The rain plonked on the roof boards as she sat them down on the floor.

“I’ve been practicing the pronunciation and gesture almost the entire time. Wish me luck.” She placed her hands on Augum first. He could just make out her form in the darkness of the cabin. “Omrala led oitucnoc,” she said, removing her hands at the last moment. The inflection was perfect, as if she was actually speaking backwards.

“I didn’t feel anything,” Augum said, worried.

“Hold on, let me do Leera.” There was a pause. “Omrala led oitucnoc.”

“Did it work?” Leera asked.

“Shyneo.” Augum’s hand rippled to life with lightning, turning the cabin blue.

“Shyneo,” Leera echoed, glowing water lapping around her palm, throwing a cooler blue light around the cabin.

She raised her palm, as did he, and they both winced as they drew them together. Their fingers intertwined without any pain. The two of them threw up a cheer and embraced, dragging poor Bridget into the hug as well. She protested that she could barely breathe and they were being too loud, but Augum and Leera did not seem to care. When they drew apart, their eyes were only for each other.

“Can’t thank you enough, Bridge,” Augum said, lit fingers still interwoven with Leera’s.

Leera was all smiles. “You did it, Bridge, you really did it.”

“I know it’s Lover’s Day, you two,” Bridget began, “but we have some things to take care of first.”

Augum nodded. “Right,” but he could barely think. All he wanted to do was hold Leera in his arms and spend time with her.

Bridget rattled off what they needed to do on her fingers. “We need to get the Orb of Orion, we need to cast Object Track on Harvus so we can track him, we need to recover the Agonex, we need to get in contact with Mrs. Stone, and we need the blue book—oh and by the way, I think I can learn the counterspell to Object Track too.”

“You’re a marvel, Bridge,” Leera said absently, though she was staring at Augum.

“Focus, you two! We don’t have all night.”

Augum reluctantly let go of Leera. “No, we don’t. All right, let’s do this.”

They extinguished their palms and quietly filed out of the cabin. The rain pelted the forest in a great cacophonic symphony, plunking into the stream and deadening all other sound. The door to Harvus’ cabin squeaked as Augum opened it. He paused, but the snoring continued unabated. He crept inside and kneeled by Harvus’ feet. While the girls silently collected the books and the Orb of Orion, Augum placed his hands on Harvus’ embroidered leather turnshoes. “Concutio del alarmo,” he whispered.

“Wrong spell—” Bridget hissed.

“What?”

“You want to cast Object Track, not Object Alarm.”

“Oh, right.”

Leera helped herself to a pastry from the basket while Bridget wasn’t looking.

Augum prepared himself before casting the spell. “Vestigio itemo discovaro.”

“I’ll cast it too,” Bridget said, scooting over beside Augum. “Just in case.”

When she accidentally touched the shoe, a loud alarm rang in Augum’s head.

“Can you counterspell it first?” he asked. “Don’t want my head ringing every time Harvus touches his shoe.”

“Doesn’t work that way—you only get one alarm. Watch.” She touched the shoe again, but no alarm went off in his head. “You have to get better at the spell for it to ring more than once.”

“Get on with it,” Leera hissed, licking her fingers.

“Right,” Bridget said. As she readied to cast Object Track, Augum spotted Leera carefully peeling Harvus’ hairpiece off his head.

“What are you doing!” he mouthed.

Leera finished removing the hairpiece with a final yank, making sure Bridget had not seen, and stuffed it into her robe. She had a determined but mischievous look in her eye. “Revenge,” she mouthed back with a wink.

Maybe not the best idea, but he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t have done it himself.

When Bridget finished, they grabbed their stuff and scrambled to the Okeke cabin, arriving soaked from the rain. There were unfamiliar voices inside, but the trio barged in, only to freeze.

There before them stood the obese Constable Clouds, leaning on his cane, flanked by his two guards dressed in shining black Legion plate, both holding their pot helms under their arms. A sword hung on one man’s hip, a battleaxe on the other’s. For a moment nobody moved. Augum’s mind buzzed with spell incantations, heart thundering in his chest.

Finally, Mr. Goss ran to the trio. “Dear me, I am so glad to see you! Is he out?’

“Sorry?” Augum managed to say, still eyeing the soldiers, who made no move.

“Harvus—has he passed out?”

Augum focused on Mr. Goss for the first time. He had a grave look on his face. “Yes,” he blurted.

“Splendid.” Mr. Goss paced back to the group. Augum was finally able to see who was in the room—Haylee leaned on her cane near Chaska, who held onto his war bow. His Henawa war shirt was tearing at the seams, revealing a snow-skinned belly. He was slowly growing his milky hair long in the Henawa way, and wore a necklace of harpy wing bones. Priya and Jengo held hands in the corner, Priya holding Leland protectively before her. Mr. Okeke was standing in a somber pose, absently rubbing his beard, Mr. Hanad Haroun—the town elder—beside him.

“What’s going on?” Augum asked, ready to bolt or strike. “Why is the Legion here?”

Mr. Goss held up his hands. “It is all right, Augum. This is Constable Clouds and his guards, Lieutenant Briggs and Sergeant Cobb. They are on our side. I assure you.”

Constable Clouds turned to face Augum. The effort made him wheeze. “It is an honor to meet you, Augum Stone. A great honor.”

Augum gaped, not sure what to make of this. Leera’s fingers secretly found his and their hands curled together with a squeeze.

Bridget finally strode forward. “It is nice to meet you, sir. I’m Bridget Burns and this is—”

“Leera Jones,” Lieutenant Briggs finished for her. He had flaming red hair trimmed close to the scalp.

“Daughter to Oscar and Selma Jones,” continued Sergeant Cobb. He had the same haircut, but as blonde as the sun.

“Do not be alarmed,” Constable Clouds said. “We mean you no harm. We know much about you, as do all Legion officers, for we are taught every detail about your lives so that it may aid us in the hunt.” He glanced over at Haylee, who had a determined look on her face. “We even know that that is Haylee Tennyson.” Clouds fumbled for a cloth and dabbed at his sweaty forehead. “My men and I serve the Legion, but our hearts are in opposition.”

“You’re part of the Resistance!” Leera blurted, smiling. “It’s not just us!”

“I am afraid there is no resistance, my dear young lady,” Clouds huffed. “Not yet at least. The truth is we went in search of such a resistance. It seems that we have found it here, in a small, out-of-the-way mining town.”

“Constable Clouds and his men put their lives and the lives of their families at great risk aiding us,” Mr. Haroun said, striding forth. “We are grateful. It is invaluable to have men on active duty in the Legion ranks. And now we can indeed start a true resistance, with Anna Atticus Stone as our leader.”

The trio exchanged disbelieving looks. It has begun!