Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4) (56 page)

“Mind attack?” Augum asked.

“Strong one. That actually stung.”

“Looks like you beat it though.” All the balls had disappeared and a new inscription lit up on the wall, along with a fresh ball in the top hole. Further, a new hole appeared where there was none before. Leera carefully returned, navigating the puddles, to read the new inscription. “ ‘Thither this here ball, alarmed it thus be, finds itself, thitherto thou goest, and open thine door, but before thy bell in thee head ringeth true. Hearken thy spirit, for thenceforth through thy door a most wicked fiend awaits’.”

Leera grimaced. “What gibberish did I just read?”

Even Bridget had to re-read the inscription to herself several times. “I think you enchant the ball with Object Alarm, then a door will appear. As soon as the alarm goes off in your head, you’re supposed to open the door.”

“Which means something will have picked it up,” Augum said.

“And we’re supposed to fight it.” Leera sighed. “Hence the First Offensive use. Fine.” She placed her hands over the new ball. “Concutio del alarmo.” She took a breath. “Might as well see if I can follow it too.” She concentrated another moment. “Vestigio itemo discovaro,” before releasing it into the new hole. They followed the sound as the ball slowly rolled along inside the walls, being sure to avoid the puddles. At last, it thunked against the foot of a particularly flat area.

“It’s just behind here,” Leera whispered, inspecting the wall. “I see grooves.”

“There’s the handle.” Augum pointed at a jutting rock. “Don’t pull on it yet though, wait for the alarm.” He braced himself, ready to cast his First Offensive. Bridget joined him in an attack posture.

“I smell smoke,” Leera whispered, hand pressed against the rock. “And the wall’s getting hot.”

“Look at the seams,” Augum said, watching as a red glow formed the outline of a door.

“Getting hotter,” Leera said after placing her palm on the handle. “Get ready …”

There was a flaming groan from the other side.

“Now!” she shouted, and flung the door open. The trio was immediately greeted by what appeared to be a wall of fire, except it
moved
! The thing roared flame that nipped at their sodden robes.

They stumbled backwards from the heat of the fire. Augum immediately felt his mind under attack as he stepped into puddle after puddle. He had to be sharp to ward off the multiple mental incursions. Bridget, who had struck her head on a stalactite, was not so fortunate—she suddenly stretched out her arms. “NO! I’m blind—!”

“Don’t move, Bridge!” Augum slammed his wrists together. “ANNIHILO!” A thick bolt of lightning struck the towering inferno creature, but it seemed to do no damage at all
.
The beast started coming for them, each step evaporating puddles with a hiss.

Leera slammed her wrists together. “ANNIHILO!” A jet of water shot at the thing, snuffing one of its arms with a loud hiss. Embers and coals fell to the ground as it roared, a guttural sound that sent licks of flame shooting out of its black soot mouth.

Augum shoved at the air before him. “BAKA!” but the fire beast took only a small step back. “Leera—hit its legs!” he shouted as he made his way to Bridget.

Leera slammed her wrists together. “ANNIHILO!” The fierce water blast instantly snuffed out one of its legs with a hiss. The thing toppled to the ground with a guttural roar, but continued to crawl forward. “ANNIHILO!” but she happened to have stepped into a puddle resulting in a wild miss that nearly took Augum’s head off. Wincing from a mind attack, she backtracked to avoid the creature’s fiery swipe—right into another puddle. “Gah!” she said, holding her head with one hand.

“I gotcha, Bridge!” Augum said before grabbing her. She had been hunkering in her blind state, arms sweeping like insect antennae.

The fiery beast tried to lunge but slipped, unsteady with one leg missing.

Leera slammed her wrists together once more. “ANNIHILO!” but nothing happened—she had run out of arcane stamina.

“I can see, I can see!” Bridget hollered in Augum’s arms. “What can I do?”

“Telekinesis—” Augum said. “All three of us—we drag it over the puddles!”

They extended their palms and began dragging the beast. While the smaller puddles evaporated, the larger ones snuffed out more and more flame.

“It’s working!” Augum called through gritted teeth, watching the beast hit a particularly large puddle and wither in a hissing roar, until it was nothing but smoking coals and embers. Amidst the pile were three shining gold coins.

The trio collapsed against each other.

“Bet you the fire trainer has a water elemental,” Leera blurted with a laugh.

“Your nose is bleeding,” Augum said.

She wiped it with her sleeve. Her accumulated arcanery was taking its toll.

“Let’s go before the door shuts,” Bridget said, scooping up the coins before suddenly jerking on Leera’s sleeve, stopping her from going first.

“Oh, right.” Leera waved them by. “Now that would have sucked.” The door shut the moment she stepped through.

Augum could still smell acrid smoke. “Hey, at least we’re a little drier.”

“All right, it doesn’t matter what’s in this fourth room, we have to find the passage to the fountain,” Bridget said as they walked the narrow rock tunnel.

“Can you two believe these dumb rooms go all the way to the 10th degree?” Leera said. “Why would anyone risk their lives for them?”

“There’s probably some kind of reward at the end,” Bridget replied, navigating a series of boulders that had come loose from the ceiling. “Besides the gargoyle coins that is. Maybe an artifact that compliments your element, or an ancient tome detailing a rare off-the-book spell.”

“Or maybe you get to join an elite warlock club,” Augum said, giving Leera a mischievous look.

Leera stopped, eyes magnifying. “Ooo, and you learn a secret handshake that identifies you to other members, or you have a secret mark only they know about, or you get new awesome robes.” She resumed walking, an extra bounce in her step. “Well … I guess those
would
be worth it. Hate these stupid necrophyte rags.”

They stopped before a granite door with a gargoyle emblem and four etched strikes.

“The fourth room.” Leera placed her lit palm over it. “Entarro,” and the door swung inwards.

It was a damp and dark room with an arched masonry ceiling, from which hung ancient rusted iron candelabras. Three simple tombs sat in the center, each overgrown with tendrils of ivy and moss.

“Hmm, could be more of the founders,” Leera said, pacing over to the stone tombs.

“Let’s stay focused,” Bridget said, searching the walls, “we need to find the passage to the fountain—” but she was cut off by an alarmed squeak from Leera, who was suddenly backing away from the tombs.

“What is it?” Augum asked, hurrying to her.

Leera nodded at the sarcophagi. “Look.”

Augum glanced over and what he saw made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
His
name
was etched into one!

“These are our tombs—” Leera blurted to Bridget.

Bridget gave the tombs a nervous glance. “It’s just arcane trickery, never mind them, come help me look for the secret passage—”

But Augum had to take a second look. He got on his knees and brushed aside the ivy, reading the inscription aloud. “ ‘Augum Stone, of the Arinthian line, died fighting the Lord of the Legion, Lividius Stone, while trying to save Leera Jones’.”

“What—?” Leera shot over. “I’m confused … how can it …” She frantically brushed aside the ivy on her tomb. “ ‘Leera Jones, of the Artemesia line, died of ineptitude while facing the Lord of the Legion, Lividius Stone’.” She stared at it, hands covering her mouth, before suddenly beating her fists on the stone. “No, no, no, no …!”

Augum slumped onto his tomb, suddenly nauseous. He knew he’d save Leera at the cost of his own life without even a second thought. The only other option would be to never face his father.

He slowly ran his fingers tightly through his hair. The blood in his ears was a raging torrent. But it was his destiny to face his father. He had even convinced himself that’s what he wanted!

He shivered, feeling cold and alone. His throat felt dry and his head swam in confusion. He hadn’t even heard Bridget speaking until she angrily waved a hand before his face.

“Aug! Stop it!” Bridget grabbed him and Leera by the wrist. “Both of you, stop it. It’s your
fears
, get it?”

Leera jerked from her grip and slowly backed away. One of her hands was bleeding from pounding on the stone, but she did not seem to notice. Her face was contorted in utter agony, and she, too, began running her hands through her hair, slowly shaking her head.

Bridget tilted her head and sighed. “Lee, you’re being silly—”

Leera stopped her by raising an open palm. “Don’t. Just … don’t.” She backed into a wall and slumped down against it, drawing her knees in and burying her head, shoulders heaving as she wept quietly. “I don’t want him to die …”

Bridget sighed. “Augum’s not going to die.” She gave Augum a meaningful look to help her with the situation, but he only stared back, mouth slack.

They were going to die facing his father.

Bridget pursed her lips. “Look, you two are both being utterly ridiculous, and to prove it—” She marched over to her tomb and jerked at the ivy, muttering, “Completely absurd … like children sometimes …” She sighed loudly and quickly read the inscription. ‘ “Bridget Burns, of the Demeteria line, died—’ ” but suddenly she too froze, face going ashen.

Leera’s head slowly rose. “Died from what? Died from
what
, Bridge—!”

Bridget slumped against her tomb. “ ‘Died from falling off a cliff in the Library of Antioc …’ ”

Prophecies and Predictions

For a while, the trio just sat there in the room housing their three tombs, tombs that were inscribed with predictions of their deaths. At last, Leera schlepped over on wobbly legs to stand at the end of her sarcophagus, staring at it.

“I’m not going to let Augum sacrifice himself for me.”

Bridget glanced up, face pale. Her hazel eyes were dark and unfocused, as if she was reliving a nightmare.

Leera turned to Augum, lower lip trembling. “Do you hear me? I’m not going to let you do that, and I
know
you would in a heartbeat.”

Augum’s mouth was too dry to speak.

“We’re through, you hear me?” Tears trickled down her cheeks.

Augum had to steady himself on his tomb.

“Through,” Leera repeated softly, chin quivering. She was breathing rapidly while staring at Augum. “Well aren’t you going to say anything—?”

Augum’s head was swimming. He felt bile rising in his throat and a vertigo-like nausea in his stomach that forced him to shakily lie back on top of his own sarcophagus. He wished he was inside it already, gone and done and unable to feel anymore. Feeling hurt too much. So very, very much …

It was Bridget’s voice that broke the icy silence. “You don’t mean that, Lee. I know you don’t.”

But Leera said nothing, and neither did Augum.

Bridget glanced between the two of them, wiped her eyes, and marched to the wall.

“What are you doing?” Leera asked in a shaky voice.

Bridget angrily turned over an earthen pot, accidentally smashing it in the process. “What does it
look
like I’m doing?” She searched behind it. Finding nothing, she moved on along the wall.

Augum sat up, body as numb as if he had been swimming in an ice bath. Leera would not look at him. He would not look at her.

Leera took a step toward her. “Bridge, now you’re the one being—”

Bridget whirled, pointing a stern finger at Leera, as if to say something. Instead, she returned to violently searching.

Leera’s head dropped. For a moment, she just stood there. Augum was painfully aware, with every fiber of his being, of her proximity to him. He missed her so much already it hurt.

After a while, Leera walked over to a portal etching on the wall. “Shyneo,” she said in a quivering voice. Her palm flickered to life with a weak watery glow. She placed it against the etching. “Leigh Sparrows.” The portal burst to life, blowing wind at her soggy hair and necrophyte robe.

Bridget ceased what she was doing and Augum stepped down from the tomb.

Leera stared into the black abyss of the portal. Somehow, Augum knew if she went through it, he would never see her again. Never. She would hide from him, and she would do it to save him.

Bridget, who at first wavered and looked like she was going to collapse, took a firm step forward and balled her fists. “Leera Jones, don’t you
dare
go through that portal. My destiny is
not
to die in some stupid, dark dungeon falling off some ridiculous cliff. My destiny is to die old, maybe a little fat, and surrounded by family. Do you understand? And I’m going to
prove
it to you. I’m going to survive that damn cliff, with or without you!” She glared at Augum. “With or without
both
of you!”

Leera whirled on her, the portal still howling with wind. “You’re not going near that cliff!”

Bridget stood as strong as iron. “I. Am. And I am
not
going to die.”

Augum glanced between his two very best friends, one of whom meant even more in so many ways. Each had her strengths and weaknesses, her tempers and desires and pains and fears. Each had lost her family, murdered by his father. Yet each, against all rational odds, had come along with him, to help him, on probably the most foolhardy and idiotic, the most dangerous and impossible quest in the history of quests.

And there Bridget proudly stood, even having dyed her hair black so that she wouldn’t be recognized; having sacrificed her sleep, possibly her sanity, and now threatening to
once again
put her life on the line to keep this impossible quest alive.

And opposite stood Leera, sacrificing just as much, her raven hair now dark brown, her cheeks wet with tears. And how she suffered …

Even
if
somehow everything worked out;
if
Bridget didn’t die in this hovel of a dungeon;
if
Leera came back to him, it guaranteed nothing, for they might grow very old in a short period of time from an ancient spell, all just to defeat his father.