Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4) (57 page)

It was ridiculous, and perhaps in another life, Augum would have laughed, called them both fools, and walked away from the whole absurd mess. But walk away to what? What life was there beyond chasing one’s dreams? Beyond chasing one’s perceived destiny? Which, the more he thought about it, were really his dreams. How would he ever be able to look back with dignity, with pride? How would he be able to live with himself knowing he gave up? Knowing he turned his back on a slim hope, a hope an entire kingdom seemed to be resting its future upon? How many lives could be saved if he could indeed—
dare to
—defeat his own father, the Lord of the Legion, the Lord of Death, and the Lord of Dreadnoughts—?

Augum clenched his jaw, straightened, and strode toward Bridget. “And I’m coming with you.”

Bridget, who had been in a staring showdown with Leera, glanced at him as if seeing him for the first time. She finally nodded, the color returning to her cheeks. “Right. Help me find the secret passage.”

The two of them set to searching, both ignoring Leera.

The portal howled for a little while longer before suddenly going silent.

Augum froze, unable to peek. Had Leera just gone through it? Had she deserted them? Would he ever see her again?

But then he heard the most comforting sound in the world—that of a third person rummaging, helping with the search.

The Cliff

At long last, they found what they had been looking for—a secret door, hidden behind a ragged old tapestry depicting a bunch of people merrily enjoying an ancient dinner party. Interestingly, behind them sat a spiral fountain.

He almost turned to Leera to say, “Huh, look at that,” before realizing they hadn’t looked at each other or spoken a word the entire time they had been searching for the secret entrance. What was there to say? She was coming along for now, but that only meant she was doing it to stop Bridget. And he couldn’t speak to her either. It felt impossible, not to mention it would be fake and painful. Suddenly his birthday necklace felt awfully heavy around his neck.

Insides roiling, he forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand.

Bridget, whose jaw was firmly clenched, cast Unconceal to find a crude handle, which she used to open the secret door. Augum stepped inside the musty passage first, palm lit, trying not to think or feel. Bridget told him to focus, and that’s what he was going to do. He was going to ignore Leera; ignore the cacophonous turmoil in his very being.

Bridget followed, Leera close behind in the rear. They said nothing as they traversed the tight passage that forced them to duck. It smelled of old earth and possessed a faint scent of death, reminding Augum of the crypts in Castle Arinthian. Part of him was curious what was inside them, but no way in all of Sithesia would he have dared open his own sarcophagus. For all he knew, he’d be attacked by an undead version of himself.

The passage meandered down crude rock steps, all the while constricting until they were hunched over. At long last, Augum pushed on a rocky door that opened into a vast cavern. The air smelled of sewage and musty old rock. Tall masonry walls surrounded them with passages scattered about—they were in the maze.

Before them stood a magnificent spiral fountain. It was made of marble, decorated with figural depictions along its flanks. At the very top was a gargoyle holding a staff with a coiled snake around it, its other hand pointing a single raised finger. It stared proudly ahead, chin high, wings folded smartly behind. Water had long stopped trickling from its mouth, leaving a dark stain. Once upon a time, that water would have traversed the spirals like a miniature waterfall, perhaps making the marble glitter.

Beyond the fountain was a marble staircase flanked by towering walls and two mighty pillars carved with neatly stacked books and scrolls. Augum knew that was the way because the breeze blew toward it. He strode over to the staircase. The workmanship was so intricate it appeared the shelves had once been made of real books, but had petrified over eons of time.

Or maybe he was over-thinking things just to keep his mind off what had happened in the previous room. He refused to glance behind him at the girls. He refused to look at Leera. Instead, he climbed and climbed. It seemed to go on forever, so much so that he was gasping by the end of it, when the staircase abruptly stopped at a great set of double doors made of black oak and studded with massive strips of iron. There were no handles, only an inscription.

Bridget, huffing, finally caught up to him. She began reading in a solemn voice. “ ‘Horror, horror of horrors, hailed from a hallowed hamlet known thus as Hyona. Begat she Hal and Heather and Heath and Haleema, but what, hearty human, was
her
name?’ ”

She glanced between Augum and Leera, who stood apart. “So, uh, any thoughts, you two?”

Neither of them replied, keeping their eyes averted. Last thing Augum was in the mood for was another stupid riddle.

Bridget sighed, thought about it some more, then tilted her head up to the doors, proclaiming in a clear voice, “Her name was Horror.”

The doors groaned open. The wind immediately increased to a howl and was sucked down, for directly before the doors was a drop-off into nothing, as if the staircase and doors floated above a gaping abyss. Far, far on the other side was a small perch and another set of doors just like this one.

Bridget began breathing rapidly, backed away, and dropped to her knees. She had turned ashen and was shaking like a leaf. Her dyed black hair whipped her face in the wind.

Leera grabbed her firmly by the forearms. “You’re
not
doing this.”

Bridget’s voice was faint. “I dreamed this. This is my nightmare. This is where I fall again and again—”

Leera shook her. “That’s exactly why you’re
not
doing this.”

For the first time Augum glimpsed a haunting sight—he saw a shivering young girl mocked for being broken.
Broken Bridget
. That was the nickname other kids had teased her with. He glanced over the cliff. It seemed to have no bottom, no sides, and no end. There was no way to get across. “She’s right,” he said, feeling hollow. “It’s over.”

There was a moment during which the only sound was the howl of the wind.

“Like hell it is—” Bridget suddenly jerked away from Leera, stood and thrust her hand out. “Un vun deo,” she spat. A stone block at the very edge of the cliff lit up with a crimson inscription.

“ ‘Believe in thyself’,” Augum read in a whisper.

Bridget clenched her teeth … and marched straight for the edge.

Augum grabbed her right arm, Leera her left.

“What are you doing—” Augum said while Leera cried out with, “Are you
mad
?”

Bridget glanced between the two of them. “What, you think I’m going to let our own stupid fears get in the way of our quest, a quest more important than either of you realize?” She was practically shrieking, an unnerving sight to behold. “You think I’m going to let our fears ruin what you two have together!”

Augum and Leera held firm. For a moment they shared a fleeting look before glancing away.

Bridget stared ahead. “I love you two both so much, but you have to let go.”

“No way—”

“Forget it—”

“Please. I
have
to do this. I won’t live the rest of my life with that nightmare. I won’t live knowing I never
tried
, that I let myself down, that I let
us
down. That is not life. That is death—”

“Don’t you remember the tower—?” Augum pressed in a panicked voice.

“Evergray Tower,” Leera added. “You’re terrified of heights, you’ll fall—”

Augum squeezed her arm firmer. “There’s nothing bridging the gap! It’s a one-way trip to the bottom!”

On the other side, Leera shook Bridget’s shoulder, tears falling freely now. “Bridge, you’re being stubborn and stupid and—”

Augum saw Bridget’s jaw flex before she suddenly did something she had never done before—lash out arcanely at them. She made a savage throwing gesture at the ground, shouting “GRAU!” The air tore with the sound of a massive tree splintering, the loudest she had ever cast the spell, so loud that, even though Augum and Leera were used to her training with it, they flinched. Bridget used that flinch to twirl away from them, shoving violently at the air and shouting, “BAKA!” Augum and Leera were
both
sent flying.

Augum got up just in time to see Bridget staring at them, before taking a step backward into the abyss.

In Thyself

Bridget’s face registered the shock Augum felt rippling through his body, for the step she had taken over a fathomless abyss did not see her plummet. Instead, she seemed to have stepped onto an invisible bridge! She took another step back, chest heaving, face ashen but firm. She didn’t look down. Her night-black hair and matching robe whipped around her, wind threatening to throw her into the depths of nothing.

Yet she continued to walk backward, step by measured step. Augum and Leera watched speechless. Somewhere in the middle of the yawning abyss, Bridget turned around with a yelp, steadying herself, arms jutting out for balance.

“Come on, Bridge, you can do it,” Augum whispered. He hurried over and felt for the bridge—but his hand fell right through—there was nothing there! Her sheer will, sheer
belief
was holding her up!

Leera quickly joined him. “I don’t believe it,” she mumbled in a voice full of awe.

Soon both of them were shouting encouragements at her, tears running down their faces.

“Eyes straight and level!”

“That’s it, Bridge, you’re doing it, you’re doing it—!”

Bridget Burns strode confidently over the last few steps, making a final hop to the perch on the other side. She turned, raised her arms, and let out the most joyous, triumphant cry Augum had ever heard a person utter, before dropping to her knees and sobbing.

Augum and Leera instantly hugged, jumping up and down and shouting celebratory cries. Bridget hadn’t died from that stupid tomb prophecy after all … which could only mean—

Suddenly the pair stopped dancing and stared at each other’s eyes.

“It didn’t come true,” Leera said, sniffing.

“No, it didn’t.”

She grabbed the back of his head and brought his lips to hers.

Augum’s heart exploded with joy. They were back together. All was well again. The world had not ended. Their quest continues. But for now, he allowed himself the sweet pleasure of kissing the girl of his dreams.

Bridget must have been feeling particularly generous, for she let them snog for some time before finally shouting, “Oh for the love of—anytime now, you two!” but she was smiling throughout.

Augum and Leera stopped to giggle. He hugged her gently, wiped the tears from her freckled cheeks, and kissed her forehead, before turning toward the abyss.

“Together?” he said.

She nodded and smiled.

They took a moment to harden themselves with belief. Then their hands clasped and they took the first heart-leaping step—and found solid, albeit invisible, ground. And while Bridget shouted encouragements from the other side, they walked hand-in-hand, together, over a black abyss. They did it confidently, without wavering, without falling, and without fear.

Though, truth be told, Augum dared not look down, and he noticed neither did Leera; and his legs trembled and his stomach fluttered, though that might have been from regaining her once again.

By the time the pair stepped onto the perch on the other side, Bridget was clapping and shouting. She enveloped them in a great big jumping hug, until she almost lost balance and took them all over the edge.

When she let go, it was to wipe her face. She was staring into the black abyss, standing close to it.

“I do believe Bridget may have conquered her fear of heights,” Leera said to Augum.

“I’m going to sleep like a baby too,” Bridget said. “I know it.”

“That’s great and all, but you’re kind of close to the edge. I mean, even
I
wouldn’t stand that close.”

Augum agreed and gently grabbed Bridget’s sleeve, tugging her back toward the doors while keeping a hesitant eye on the chasm. “Enough staring down the abyss. You done beat it good,” he added in a country twang.

Bridget placed her hands on each of their shoulders. She glanced between the two of them and gave a firm nod. “I’m proud of us. And, uh, sorry about that back there—”

“It’s fine,” Augum and Leera blurted simultaneously, laughing.

“We deserved it,” Augum said.

“For not believing in you,” Leera added. She looked at Augum. “For not believing in each other.”

He nodded in agreement, never feeling so happy to have these two wonderful people as friends.

But boy was he glad to be with Leera again!

“Stop grinning like that,” she said. “You look like a fool.”

“What, I’m grinning cause you’re grinning!”

“Pshaw.”

They turned toward the massive doors. Bridget placed her lit palm on a gargoyle etching. “Entarro.” The door swung inwards, revealing a dark and spacious hall with a dusty marble floor.

Bridget’s arms shot out, blocking Augum and Leera from stepping in too far. “Something’s over there,” she whispered.

“What? I don’t—” but Augum was cut off by a loud hiss, followed by a series of all too familiar clacking noises.

“Shyneo,” Augum and Leera said at the same time, adding their lights to Bridget’s.

Up ahead in the hall stood a looming wraith encircled by six walkers. Every one of the walkers was clacking its jaws. They held rusty swords and wore old beaten chest plates. But it was the wraith that made the trio freeze—a monstrously disfigured giant skeleton stinking of rot and decay. Wet rags hung in strips from gnarled limbs too large for its body. Black goop drooled from its gaping and hissing maw.

The wraith inclined its head and made a single loud clack. The walkers immediately bolted at the trio, who instantaneously slammed their wrists together, shouting, “ANNIHILO!”

Unfortunately, they all aimed at the same walker, blowing it into thousands of bony pieces that slid across the polished floor.

The other five charged on.