Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4) (72 page)

Malaika crossed her arms. “Excuse me, but we’re not going anywhere.”

“Excuse
me
,” Leera said, crossing her arms too, “but you’re leaving first thing.”

Malaika narrowed her eyes. “You don’t have the right to boss us around. We do and go where we please.”

Charissa joined her friend by her side, wrapped in a blanket too. “Just because you’re a warlock doesn’t give you the right to bully us!”

“I wasn’t—”

A tired-looking Bridget stepped between them. “Please, Malaika, you’re in great danger. Both of you are. You need to leave as soon as possible.”

“What about our clothes?” Charissa asked, gesturing at the giant pile. “You’re going to—” She made an awkward waving gesture. “—magic them back to Milham for us, right?”

“We’re not going to ‘magic’ anything for you,” Leera said through gritted teeth.

Bridget shifted the box under her arm so she could place a gentle hand on Leera’s shoulder. “Give us a moment, Lee.”

Leera threw up her hands. “Ugh,” and marched to the window, muttering to herself.

Bridget gave Augum a look that meant he should join her.

“Excuse me,” he said, and strode to Leera, necrophyte robe rustling softly along the carpet.

“If anyone’s going to get us killed,” Leera grumbled, staring out at the twinkling city, “it’s those two morons.”

He placed his arm around her waist. “Just take it easy. We’ll get through this.”

She leaned against him, whispering, “I’m so tired.”

“I know. So am I.”

They listened as Bridget quietly spoke with Malaika and Charissa.

“That’s. Not. Fair!” Charissa said, accenting each word with a stomp of her foot.

“Please, it’s for everyone’s good,” Augum overheard Bridget saying.

Leera was about to turn to say something, but Augum stopped her. “Leave them to it.”

“Fine, I’ll let Attyla handle this one,” she muttered.

The corner of Augum’s mouth curved upward. Behind them, the argument continued, until—

“All right, we get it!” Malaika finally said.

“Yeah, shut up already—” Charissa added.

Leera grumbled she was about to summon her elemental. It took a lot to keep her from whipping around and following through on the threat.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Bridget said. “Will you at least tell us about what you’ve learned—”

“Are you kidding?” Charissa turned her back on Bridget and jumped into her bed. “Leave us alone.”

Malaika scoffed. “You want us to help you, after all this? You don’t even appreciate what we’ve done for you! You have
no idea
how hard we’ve worked to get you information!”

“Yeah!” Charissa added from the bed. “No appreciation!”

Malaika flicked her wrist at the clothes. “Look at all of Daddy’s money that you’re wasting! Do you know how hard he worked for it?”

Leera broke free of Augum’s embrace. “No one asked you to buy clothes, you stupid—”

“SHUT UP!” Malaika yelled at Leera. “I’m so
sick
of you!” She flashed Augum a mournful look. “All of you.”

Bridget pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I can’t handle this, I’m just too tired. Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

Malaika stabbed at Bridget’s chest with a finger. “You can go to hell for all I care,” and she twirled away and stomped to bed.

Bridget stood there, barely visible in the dim light. Eventually she padded over to the window, clutching the box as if it was all she had left in the world. She glanced past Augum and Leera at the silent city.

“They said they’d leave,” she murmured, “but I don’t believe them. I have a bad feeling they’ll get caught after the reveal. They’ve been seen with us in the Supper Hall and on the streets. Even
if
they don’t get caught, someone might figure out where they’re from. We’re in trouble.”

“They’re not going to do anything of the sort—” Leera said through gritted teeth, but Augum and Bridget stopped her from starting the argument anew, or turning them into Leera’s personal practice dummies.

“Let him talk to her,” Bridget said, still holding her and nodding at Augum. “He’s the only one they’ll listen to.”

Leera’s jaw flexed.

Bridget drew Leera a little closer, voice a bare whisper. “We
need
to know about that trophy presentation. We
need
to know as much as possible. Lee, it’s important.”

Leera’s shoulders slumped. She nodded at Augum. “See what you can do.”

Augum sighed heavily. He didn’t want to talk to Malaika or Charissa. He’d prefer to have nothing to do with them. Ever. Not after all those ridiculous, manipulative antics. But he straightened his robe and paced over, taking a seat cross-legged on the floor between Malaika and Charissa’s beds. They had removed the folding divider between them, as best friends do.

“Can I talk to you a moment?” he asked Malaika softly. He chanced a peek at Bridget and Leera, but they were talking to each other in low tones by the windowsill, ignoring them.

“What do you want?” Malaika blurted in a shaky voice, back turned away. It was then Augum realized she was crying, and his stomach sank. Great, this is the last thing he wanted to deal with right now. Stupid, pointless drama …

“Hey, it’ll be all right,” he said. “We
do
appreciate what you’ve done for us, we really do, we’re just … really,
really
tired.”

Malaika was shaking her head. “You have no idea how much we’ve learned, the risks we took.”

“Then … can you give me an idea?”

She turned to face him, ebony face wet with tears. “Why, so you can tell us to go away after? And just …
throw
those clothes out? So what if we don’t want to look poor—?”

Augum rubbed his face. Clothes. Stupid. Clothes. The kingdom was in peril, they were about to risk their lives in the most foolhardy plan ever concocted in Sithesia’s history, and they were discussing a pile of clothes. He wanted to keep rubbing his face until sleep came. He wished he could just rub all this craziness away.

“I’m going to be in the biggest fight of my life tomorrow,” he said through his hands. “I don’t know how it’s going to go. Probably not well, to be honest.” He glanced up at her. “But if I win … there’s a four hundred gold coin prize. If you leave first thing, and
if
I win, I’ll give all the money to your father.”

Malaika opened her mouth to say something but just froze. Finally, “You’d … you’d do that?”

“Of course.”
If
he lived.

She sat up, whispering, “Give me your hand.”

He almost groaned—he didn’t want her touching him. But he knew that if he didn’t play along, she might not tell him what they so desperately needed to know. He tentatively gave her his hand, and she clasped it between her own.

“Brave Augum Stone. Know this—Erika Scarson is going to have the divining rod tomorrow—”

His heart did that excited flip thing. Thank the Unnameables!

“—and the trophy ceremony is going to be held right after your fight on the judge’s platform,
with the loser in attendance
.”

That meant he could lose the fight and still snatch the divining rod! Yes! There was a chance now!

Malaika sighed, closed her eyes. “One last thing. Your father—”

“—is going to be there,” he finished, slipping his hand from hers. His mouth went sand dry. Somehow he knew it, but didn’t want to admit the possibility to himself.

Malaika bit her lip. “He’ll be the one presenting the trophy. He’ll be surrounded by something called the ‘Red Guard’ or whatever, not to mention a whole bunch of warlocks.” Her hands went to his shoulders and she squeezed. “Don’t go. Don’t do it.
Please
. You’ll die, I know you will—”

He took her hands off his shoulders. “Thank you for everything.” He stood up. “Will you leave first thing? Please?”

She withdrew from him, stared at the floor. “I … I wish you’d let us watch …”

“
Please
…”

She wiped her eyes with a finger. At last, she nodded. “I’ll go.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you …” and quietly paced away.

Antioc, Day Five

It was a tremendous risk sleeping in their room, yet they were simply too tired to do otherwise. Augum was the first to wake. Malaika and Charissa were gone, but most of their clothing pile remained. He noticed they also left their necrophyte robes behind—a smart move, all things considering. They would be safer looking like normal people.

He quietly padded over to the washbasin and splashed cold water on his face. Then he strode to the window as Bridget and Leera slept on, entangled in blankets.

The biggest day in his life to date was windy and dark. The clouds hung low, brooding. He could feel the tension of the city below in the common folk as they hurried this way and that. Busy ants trying to avoid their doom. Or maybe that’s how he felt about himself …

His eyes flicked to the arena. Crowds clapped to a performance brimming with fire dancers. That meant it was past the first afternoon bell. Soon the finals of the 1st degree would begin. There would be ten duels today. Ten trophies. Ten degrees. He was fourth up, and his heart was already buzzing in that nervous and all-too-familiar way. They would have to get going soon.

But not just yet …

Augum sat on the window ledge, back against the thick wall. He removed his birthday chain and placed it between his teeth. It grounded him, made him remember people cared about him.

Malaika was right. He should turn away. The odds of snatching the divining rod—let alone getting out of there without being captured or killed—were remote at best. He knew that. The girls knew it.

He sighed and drew his legs in, placing his chin on his knees. Yet so much rode on this day, so very much. And he dared to hope, for it might—just
might
—turn the tide. If he could only beat Robin somehow, then … yes, what happened next, how he behaved himself, how he reacted, would give him that precious chance he needed to do one desperate maneuver, the one maneuver he was truly banking on.

But would it work …?

Of course, now that he knew the loser stood on the platform as well, as long as he survived the duel, he should have a chance, no matter how remote. Although what it meant for the Resistance was another matter. And then there was the
other
question … should he reveal his identity? And if so, when? See how you feel in the moment, Bridget had said … see how you feel in the moment.

“Hey,” came a whisper.

Augum turned to see Bridget sleepily shuffle over, clutching the Exot orb. He adjusted to sit cross-legged again. She slumped across from him in the windowsill, eyes puffy.

“You like chewing on that thing, huh?” she said, rubbing her face with the back of her wrist.

“Helps me think.” He tucked the necklace away, whispering, “She still asleep?”

Bridget nodded, swallowed, pulled her legs in. “I slept terribly.”

“Me too.” More like tossed and turned. How he longed for an uninterrupted night’s sleep without worry or fear …

She placed her chin on her knees. “I dreamed I lived in the gargoyle hut on some empty prairie. I was alone. So terribly alone. Missed you guys so much.”

Augum shuddered recalling that experience. “We’re right here.”

“I can still hear the shutter thunking …” She turned her head toward the dark window. “I know you’ll take care of her if something happened to me.”

“Nothing will happen to you a healer won’t be able to fix.”

She patronized him with a half-smile. She was right of course—there were no available healers. Any healing counted on Mrs. Stone.

“It’s just a scroll from a library,” he added. An ancient library with dangerous obstacles that sometimes killed young warlocks.

She said nothing.

He gently drew her in for a hug. “It’ll be fine, Attyla.”

“Hmm?”

“Oh, Lee and I think you might have Attyla the Mighty blood in you.”

She snorted. “Shut up,” and sat back. She took a long breath and exhaled slowly. He had never seen her look as tired and worn out as she did then—her dyed black hair was tangled and frizzy; her eyes half-closed; face pale.

“Promise me something,” she whispered.

“Anything.”

“I know you can be proud. I know you can be angry. I know that you still want vengeance for Mya, for the iron room, for Hangman’s Rock—and everything else. And I know you want to beat Robin for the kingdom’s sake.” She brushed aside a lock of hair, curling it around her ear like she used to back when she cared more how she looked. “But, if you don’t think you can beat him—” She leaned forward, placing a hand on his right knee. “
Bend the knee
. You’ll still get up on that platform. You’ll still have your shot at the rod.”

This time it was him that did not reply.

“You promise me that, Aug.”

He watched her a moment, but eventually nodded. “I promise.”

She sat back, glanced out the window. “I guess we both know the odds anyway.”

He nodded again. It’s all he thought about. Their odds and how to improve them.

“We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?”

He smiled. “That’s an understatement.”

A thoughtful silence passed between them.

Leera suddenly sat up in bed with a yelp.

“You all right?” Bridget asked.

Leera glanced over with a puzzled look as if she didn’t know who they were. “Nightmare. You don’t want to know.” She dragged herself out of bed and thumped over, melting into Augum’s arms. “Can we just stay here forever?” she mumbled sleepily.

He smiled as he stroked her dyed brown hair. It will be nice to see it raven again, but then, she looked beautiful to him regardless.

“Think the tuning worked?” he asked, nodding at the small Exot orb.

The Dreadnought steel orb lifted telekinetically from Bridget’s hand to float before her face. She raised an eyebrow. “Let’s find out.” She snatched it and jumped off the windowsill, grabbed the finely carved pine box, and withdrew two rings, tossing them to Augum. He put his on first, then, with an amused grin, took Leera’s hand and slipped the other on her finger.