Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4) (39 page)

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’re fine,” Leera said, though she winked at Augum, whispering, “If we’re lucky they’re rotting in a Legion prison by now.”

Augum forced a smile, but sincerely hoped not. That would be a disaster. He doubted they’d survive much less resist a questioning. “So what do we do now?”

Bridget watched the city. “Well, regardless of what we do, we can’t keep going out without better disguises. You heard what that boy said. We still look too much like the poster. Just too risky.”

“Hey, we’ll be able to see the night portion of the ceremony!” Leera said, walking to the window with Augum.

The trio looked on as a ring of large braziers burst to life at the tournament grounds.

“Ooo,” Leera said, entwining her arm around Augum’s elbow.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go down there,” Bridget said.

Leera flashed her a surprised look. “What? I thought you didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks—”

“I know, but I mean if we found the right disguises. I read the ceremony will go late. We probably want to investigate the grounds, how many guards there are, and so on,
before
Augum competes.”

“
If
he competes. They still have to pull through for us.”

Bridget suddenly turned to Augum, gazing at him searchingly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

A sly grin spread across her face. “I have an idea for the disguises.” She shared a knowing look with Leera.

“That could work,” Leera said, giggling. “Yes, that could definitely work. But we have to do all of us.”

Augum wiggled a finger between the two of them. “I don’t know if I like what you two are up to.”

Leera positioned herself before him and grabbed his arms, announcing, “Augum, we’re going to give you a makeover—don’t give me that look! It’ll work, it’s perfect!”

Bridget was trying not to laugh at his attempts to squirm away. “We just have to … pluck your eyebrows a bit, change the shape of them—”

“ ‘
Pluck
’
?
” Like a chicken?

Leera snorted. “They’ll grow back, don’t worry. We’ll mash on a wee bit of make-up—”

“ ‘Mash on’?” What were these horrible words?

“Maybe some putty,” Bridget added with a devilish smile.

“You two are having way too much fun with this.”

Leera reached to his head. “Dye your hair, you know, that kind of thing.”

Bridget was nodding. “Yes, it’s perfect. And don’t worry, we’re going to work on each other as well.”

“I’m worried. I’m nervous. I’m rethinking the entire quest—” but the girls were ignoring him completely.

“I always wanted blue hair,” Leera was saying.

Bridget shook her head. “We can’t stand out. Anyway, why don’t you and I go find some makeup from a shop and leave Augum here to wait for the stowaways?”

“Works for me.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Augum said, finally managing to squirm away from Leera’s grip. “I mean, I don’t want to look like a … buffoon.”

Leera smirked. “You’re so silly, it’s not like that at all.”

Bridget was already striding to the door. “If we’re going to do this, we should go right away.”

“Absolutely. Going to be all right all by your lonesome, Aug?”

“But—”

“Great. See you later—” Leera gave him a peck on the cheek and took off with Bridget, the pair still giggling.

Augum watched them go and sighed to himself. Girls …

Making Plans

Augum sat on the deep ledge of the window, watching the colorful ceremony from a distance. Besides the countless other obstacles in his mind, he needed to figure out what to do with the stowaways. The problem turned itself over and over in his brain until he suddenly realized something—Malaika and Charissa wanted to help, didn’t they? So why not let them? Why not
assign
them things that will help the Resistance?

He sat up, drew his knees in, and placed his necklace between his teeth, eyes trained on the silent celebrations but mind elsewhere making plans. Arcaneologist Ning’s words floated through his thoughts much like her chair.
Direction—that is what you require, for you are lost
, he remembered her saying to Malaika and Charissa. And then he recalled her asking him,
Do you believe yourself capable of this?
Had she been hinting at what has been at the back of his brain for so long? That he needed to take charge of his life and … perhaps the Resistance itself? Was this also what Mrs. Stone had been hinting at so long ago, when she turned to him at Castle Arinthian and asked him if he needed to be as strong as his father to beat him? Was she alluding to the Resistance too?

He adjusted the necklace between his teeth. Well, if there ever was a time to step up, this was it. At least, he might as well try.

Time wore on. He focused on idea after idea, discounting the ones that didn’t make sense, until he finally thought of how he could ask Malaika and Charissa for help.

As dusk slowly settled over the city, the door finally opened behind him. Augum turned, expecting to see the girls, only to be surprised by the sight of Malaika and Charissa, who carried a basket with something steaming in it. Both were grinning victoriously.

Augum jumped off the ledge. “You did it, didn’t you? You got him to drop out of the tournament.”

Malaika was nodding her head. “We left the ceremonies early even, just so we could tell you the news. Brought a feast to celebrate.”

“At first she and Jens Madis
whatever-that-weird-surname
is got into a
huge
argument,” Charissa said, one brow raised dramatically. “But then they made up—”

“I offered a stipend toward his education at the Academy,” Malaika said, crossing her arms, a smug look on her face. “On behalf of the Harouns, which I shall have Father forward as soon as he receives the letter I sent explaining everything. And don’t worry, I was
discrete
.”

“Good, well done,” Augum said guardedly. He could smell the scent of roast chicken and had to ignore his rumbling stomach.

Malaika’s ebony features turned scarlet and she even gave a little curtsy. “Thank you, Mr. Westwood. Also, I took the liberty of bribing the registrar to make sure there weren’t any questions about the switch.”

“You did?”

Malaika shrugged. “You learn a thing or two living around merchants.”

“You have to show up first thing in the morning to register,” Charissa said. “And I mean, first thing. They’ll be expecting you,
Augustus
.”

“And you’re dueling in the early afternoon,” Malaika added.

Augum felt his heart skip a beat. Suddenly it all became real. He was actually in the tournament! He was going to duel someone before an entire crowd! In that giant arena! Then he felt a little weak. What had he been thinking? In front of all those
people
?

Malaika adjusted the cuffs of her necrophyte robe. “So … what did
you
get up to today, Augum?”

He shoved aside the idea of thousands of faces watching him and flexed proudly. Four lightning rings burst to life around his arm.

Charissa and Malaika squealed with delight, gripping each other.

“Wait,” Charissa said. “You had three before, right?”

“Of
course
he had three,” Malaika replied, smacking her arm lightly. “I swear, you can be so daft sometimes,” but the pair giggled.

“Bridget and Leera passed the test too.”

Malaika immediately made a foul face before quickly correcting herself. “Anyhow, this calls for a celebration.”

“Maybe some other time. I have something important to ask of you.” Now was the time to change things up. “Look, I know we haven’t always been getting along,” Augum began, choosing his words carefully and glancing between the two of them, confidence boosted by his recent success with the 4th degree, “but I think we have an opportunity here. You came to help the Resistance, right?” It was important he framed this correctly, otherwise it might not work.

Malaika brought her hands together pleadingly. “Of course, we only want to be of service!”

“Good, because we do need your help.” Augum began pacing, channeling Bridget, and maybe a little of Mrs. Stone and Sir Westwood. He stopped briefly to lock eyes with Malaika and Charissa, who he noticed were paying rapt attention. “It’s dangerous so you’ll need to be careful. I need you two to watch the judges and the guards. We need to know what kind of force we’re up against. I want to be fully informed of their number and strength. I also want you to find out who I’m going up against in the tournament—and I want a report every day, with plenty of time to prepare.” He made a vague gesture. “Use your social skills … or something … to dig up what you can.”

Malaika and Charissa wouldn’t let go of each other now, dancing and singing, “We get to be spies! We get to be spies—!”

“Ooo, we’ll watch them as they practice—” Malaika added, stopping the dance but still holding firmly onto Charissa’s forearms. “And we’ll listen in on their conversations! Oh, this will be
so
much fun!”

“I know!” Charissa squealed, flashing her a
Can you believe this is happening?
look. “And we’ll get to do some …”

“
Shopping!
” the girls sang.

“I also want you to keep tabs on Robin Scarson,” Augum continued, hands behind his back, feeling like a general commanding troops—albeit fickle and crazy ones. “I want to know how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, and especially—”

“—his weaknesses,” Malaika finished. She brought her feet together and awkwardly saluted, voice comically deep. “We shall have it done, sir!”

Charissa giggled behind her pale hand. “You’re so silly, Mal.”

She turned to Charissa. “This is so perfect for us! And we get to see the tournament! How exciting!”

Augum smiled to himself. That’s exactly why it was going to work. It was the only way to keep them in line, and who knows, maybe something would come of it. At the very least, it would keep them out of the trio’s hair. And now to close the deal.

“We have to work together,” he said, gesturing with a closed fist like how he envisioned a general would. “There will be dangers—neither of you can get caught, and you can’t tell anyone who you’re really with. No matter what. Even if you get captured.” He took a step closer to them. “Even if they drag you into an iron room. Should you get captured, know that your families lives would be put at stake.”

Malaika and Charissa swallowed but nodded gravely.

“We’ll also have to come up with alibis, warning signals, the works.”

“We’ll get on that right away,” Charissa said. “Promise. Ooo, this’ll be so much fun!
We’re spies!
”

“All right, enough silliness, let’s eat!” Malaika declared. “We’re starved—” but just as she finished speaking the door opened once again, and in walked Bridget and Leera, the former carrying a linen bag. Leera’s mischievous smile curdled the moment she spotted Malaika, and vice versa.

“Good news,” Augum immediately said, and explained Malaika’s accomplishment with getting him into the tournament. Then he quickly changed tact and made a small speech about how they were going to work together from now on, and how he had given Malaika and Charissa a very special task. Bridget took to the plan immediately, flashing Augum a secret, disbelieving look he translated as
Great idea!
By the look on Leera’s face, he could see she was going to need some convincing—but after everything that Malaika had done to them, he hardly blamed her.

“Uh, sorry we took so long,” Leera managed to say to him. “Guess we missed the opening ceremonies.” She held up the linen bag with a roguish grin. “But at least we got what we need for the makeovers!”

Malaika jerked her head back. “Makeovers?”

Augum groaned. “Yeah, they have a plan.”

“That’s nice and everything,” Charissa whined, stomping her feet like a child, “but can we please talk it over while we eat? I’m starved.”

Augum rubbed his hands together. “Definitely.”

Supper included roast chicken, salted and buttered potatoes, carrots and bread. And as the five of them savored every bite, they used the rest of the dwindling evening to flesh out a detailed plan, expanding upon what Augum first laid out—scheduling meet times for reports, background stories, secret warning signals and code words, and so on. Even Leera had to admit the sense of it—making the two stowaways part of the Resistance would make everything easier, and might even be a help, though she was profoundly skeptical of their spying abilities.

They resolved to do the makeup at first light, before Augum had to register, and went to bed early.

Augum, tired from the long day, slept better than he had in some time.

Antioc, Day Two

The next day Augum and Leera were woken early by a yawning Bridget, who had once again slept poorly. She had deep-set rings under her eyes and mostly communicated in grunts.

“She’s devolving,” Leera whispered to Augum with a snicker, watching Bridget numbly prepare the makeup.

“Wake them,” Bridget said, voice cracking from weariness.

Leera glanced over at the sleeping Malaika and Charissa and made a face like something stank. “I don’t want to do it.”

“Well neither do I,” Augum said, mirroring her face because he thought it was funny.

“Oh for the love of—” Bridget threw down the linen bag and marched over to wake them.

“Let’s not get on her bad side today,” Leera whispered.

Augum fervently nodded in agreement.

There was a buzz in the air as everyone prepared for the day. Hot sunlight streamed in through the window. It was a cloudless and bright day. After washing up, Malaika and Charissa quickly excused themselves, excited for their spy quests. Augum was up first for the makeover, followed by Leera, though the girls somehow managed to work on each other at the same time. To start, they dyed each other’s hair—Bridget’s long cinnamon hair was changed to black; Leera’s raven hair to dark brown. Augum’s umber was changed to black as well. He found the whole thing fascinating, especially the way the girls preened and hummed and hawed about finicky details he couldn’t make sense of. At least Bridget lightened up a little, even giggling now and then at how they all looked.