Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2) (26 page)

Bridget wrapped it around herself and stalked off.

Leera delicately touched the welt on her head. “She’s mad at you.”

“I know, but I don’t know what to do about it.” He began gathering kindling to start a fire.

“Well, you can wait it out, or … you can just apologize.”

“Think I’ll just wait it out then.”

Leera calmly unwrapped a chunk of biscuit beef. “Your funeral.”

“What do you mean? You just said I could wait it out—”

“Yeah, but I didn’t say it was the
right
thing to do.”

“Oh. Fine, I’ll apologize …”

“Look, I know you don’t want us talking about her, but she was our friend too. You’ve got to stop taking it out on us.”

He slowly rubbed his forehead. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She punched him on the shoulder and smiled. “All we have is each other. Now let me help.”

They gathered wood and kindling for the fire while the cold kept deepening, frost crunching underfoot. It soon became so bad that Bridget returned and curled up in another blanket, trying to warm herself, her expedition a failure.

Augum thought anyone caught in these freezing winds was done for. He was confident they were safe for now, at least from the Legion. The primary threat tonight was the cold.

They built the fire and sat wrapped in blankets. Now they just needed to light it.

“This is bad,” he mumbled through chattering teeth, trying to see if the tiny lightning from his Shine spell would set kindling on fire—it couldn’t. Even the horses stamped their feet trying to stay warm, their nostrils sending plumes of fog into the crisp air. Bridget mercifully threw a couple blankets on each of them.

“We’re going to freeze to death without fire,” Leera said. She glanced to the door. He followed her gaze. Then they looked at each other.

“Worth a try,” he said.

“Definitely.”

Leera drew her hood tighter around her head. “But how are we going to do it?”

“Centarro. It’s the only way. Maybe two of us cast it while the third keeps watch and makes sure we don’t wander off and do something stupid.”

She peered at Bridget, enclosed within a pile of blankets. “We should cast it while Bridget keeps watch. She’s the responsible one, after all.”

“Agreed, we have to do something about this,” Bridget said. “Sleep’s impossible. It’s just too cold.”

Leera and Augum put aside their blankets, allowing the cold to seep right into their bones, and armed themselves with slats.

They had to be very quick.

Bridget positioned herself by the concealed button that opened the door, palm lit, Blackbite in her other hand. Leera and Augum took some time preparing to cast Centarro. He noted the dirty stone floor, the feel of the slat in his hand, and a myriad of other details that may or may not become useful. He ran through the list of other spells he knew—Telekinesis, Shine, Unconceal, Shield, and Repair. As for the side effects of the spell, he was thinking of just sitting down and relaxing.

Shivering, he turned to Leera. “Ready?”

She gave a stiff nod.

“Centeratoraye xao xen!” the pair chorused as Bridget punched the button. The world slowed as he watched the door swing open. The skeleton was indeed right there, shooting forward the moment the door revealed them to its hollow eyes.

Augum noted its awkward steps, judging the best place to strike would be low on the shins. Leera, meanwhile, veered away to the right. He gave cover by raising his arms to attract the skeleton’s attention. He absorbed every nuance—how it placed its feet; the sound of the bones grinding together much like his ribs; the sturdy feel of the slat in his grip; and the rapid beat of his own heart.

As the skeleton drew close, reaching for his throat, he ducked and deftly swung the slat at one of its shins. It smashed through the bone, breaking the skeletons’ leg. He rolled forward, just in time to see Leera smack the skeleton on the back of its head. Pieces of skull flew in slow motion as the thing tumbled, veering towards the horses. Spirit neighed and rose up on hind quarters. The skeleton fell right underneath as the palfrey slammed its hooves on its ribcage, trampling it to pieces.

The trio threw up a shout of victory, embracing each other in a warm hug.

A few moments later the spell waned, and Augum felt a cloud descend upon his thinking. He was vaguely aware of Bridget placing a blanket around his shoulders, though he was still so cold he had an urge to get away and get warm. In some reptilian recess of his brain, he equated descent with warmth. He was barely aware that Bridget chased after Leera, who seemed to be doing the opposite—trying to go outside.

He let the blanket slip from his shoulders, stumbled through the black oaken door, and fumbled down the steps. With a complacent smile on his face, he followed the simple curved wall. The warmth increased and so he continued, forgetting the world above and his place in it. His fingers stroked the roughly hewn stone, guiding him further and further down into pitch darkness …

It wasn’t long until his mind started to sharpen and focus. The dull side effects, like clouds clearing to let the sun shine through, waned and then disappeared altogether.

He froze, the hairs on his neck standing on end.

Where in Sithesia was he? His movements caused an echo that reverberated like in a cavern. The silence seemed to ebb and flow hypnotically. Something was before him, some kind of vast space. He felt its maw open invitingly, like a beast anxious for prey.

Was it alive? Was something there? Best not cast Shine. As his senses sharpened further, he realized there was a pattern to the sound of the darkness—a low, rhythmic heaviness to it, almost like …

Breathing!

Erika

After much hesitation, Augum finally scrounged the courage to move. Ever so slowly, he retreated up the spiral steps, back hugging the stone. He let the tower guide him in reverse, the sound of breathing fading … fading …

Bridget snatched his arm the moment he slipped through the door, making him jump. “Augum Stone, where did you go! I was so worried—”

“Shh! There’s something down there. I heard it breathing …”

She took a hesitant step into the dark passage but he grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t. Trust me on this one.”

She paled, nodded. “Of course.” Then she smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “But you gave me the worst fright. Don’t you
ever
do that again.”

“I’m sorry, it was the side effects—”

“You didn’t prepare enough for them!” She looked to Leera, who huddled in three blankets looking very frozen and very guilty. “And neither did you!”

Bridget marched to grab some more blankets. She angrily threw him one and wrapped the other one around her shoulders. “I’m going up,” and strode through the black door without another word.

Leera tried not to smile. “So you went down to the cellar, eh?”

“Yup. You?”

“Drank snow. Thought it was warm milk.”

He couldn’t help but snort a laugh before extending his hand. “Let’s catch up to her.”

“Yeah, before she gets even madder.”

They lit their palms and quickly caught up to Bridget, who pointedly ignored them as she crept up the steps. Together they prowled past the burned-out level and on to the room the skeleton had come from.

Leera squeezed past a gaping Bridget. “What in the—it’s like some sort of round royal bedroom …”

There was a blue velvet canopy bedstead in the middle, a banded trunk at its foot. A pair of ornate dressers stood side-by-side against the right wall, four bookcases against the left. A curved desk rested underneath a deep window opposite. Iron braziers sat on stands and an iron wheel chandelier hung from a high ceiling.

It reminded Augum of Castle Arinthian. It was odd to see a room so well decorated and unstained by time in a tower where the lock to the front gate had long rusted over. Nonetheless, the trio began searching it immediately. Bridget went for the bookshelves, filled with old tomes and crystals, Leera for the two dressers, and Augum for the trunk—only to discover it locked. A moment later, there was a zapping sound.

“OUCH!” Bridget had sprung back. “The books
shocked
me!”

“And I can’t get these drawers to open—” Leera said, straining.

“And this trunk is locked,” Augum added, seeing a pattern emerge. “Looks like whoever used to live here really didn’t like people snooping.”

“But I want to snoop,” Leera whined.

Bridget extinguished her palm. “I’m going to try Unconceal.”

Leera kicked the trunk. “Why don’t the both of you try, I’ll light for you.”

Augum snuffed his palm. “Sure,” and after a few moments of concentration, “Un vun deo.” He scanned about with his open palm, hoping to feel that very subtle pull. After some time, still feeling nothing, his concentration broke and the spell failed. The same happened with Bridget.

“Nothing,” he said.

Bridget began pacing. “This doesn’t make sense …” Suddenly she stopped. “I think I know why, Mrs. Stone said it herself …”

Leera frowned. “Said what?”

“That Unconceal won’t help you find stuff that’s been arcanely hidden!”

“Oh. Right.”

Bridget turned back to the shelves, tapping her lips with a finger. “For that, we’d need to know the Reveal spell …”

“Might as well keep exploring then,” Augum said. “Shyneo.” His palm crackled to life and he made his way over to the desk.

Leera let herself fall onto the bed, sighing, while Bridget mumbled to herself, poring over the bookshelves with her eyes. Meanwhile, he tried the drawers on the desk, all to no avail. Lacking anything better to do, he dropped to his knees and searched underneath the desk. His hand closed around something cold and thin. When he drew it out, he could scarcely believe his eyes.

“A key—!” Leera said. “But … how? You tried Unconceal!”

He raised a brow and gave a smart expression. “My powers are constantly growing.”

Bridget rolled her eyes. “Please, it probably just fell under the desk. Remember, Mrs. Stone said the
intent
had to be there to hide something, and if it was arcanely hidden you probably wouldn’t just come across it like that.”

Leera sat up. “You know he was joking, right?”

Bridget turned a shade of pink. “Of course.”

He saw his chance. “Look, I’m sorry for being such an oaf earlier.” He winced. “So … think you can stop snapping at me?”

“Oh, that’s some apology, how big of you.” She snatched the key from his hand and stomped to the trunk. He appealed to Leera with a questioning look but she only shook her head, mouthing, “Nice one.”

He scampered after Bridget. “Wait, I really—” but the words stuck in his throat after spotting what Bridget had found inside the trunk—a pumpkin-sized crystal globe on a tasseled pillow.

Leera saw their slack expressions and rushed over. “What. Is. That?”

“Probably some type of arcane orb,” Bridget said.

He chuckled. “Oh, it’s not a children’s ball?”

She gave him a look and just scowled.

Leera shook her head, making a digging gesture.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, wondering how many times he had apologized today.

“I bet Mrs. Stone would know what it does,” Leera said, reaching for the orb.

Bridget grabbed her arm. “Better not. You know, just in case …”

All three of them leaned in and peered closer.

He squinted. “Ever get the feeling that you’re being—”

Suddenly a giant blue eye opened within the orb. The trio screamed, slammed the lid shut, and scurried back.

Leera drew her blankets closer. “All right, who was that?”

“Maybe the person whose place this is,” Bridget whispered.

“Well, whoever it was knows we’re here now,” Augum said, realizing they couldn’t leave even if they wanted to as the storm would kill them.

Sure enough, there was a loud THWOMP, and before them materialized a woman in red robes fringed with black fur. She looked middle-aged, had pale skin, a large crooked nose, and a face caked with too much makeup. Curly auburn hair spiraled past an elaborate crystal necklace.

Upon laying eyes on them, she crossed her arms and snorted. “You’re just kids—!” Large pearl earrings jingled with each bob of her head.

“Uh, hi,” Leera said. “Who are you?”

“Erika, and this happens to be my tower the three of you rabble are trying to loot. And who might you be, freckles?”

“We’re not trying to
loot
anything—” Leera said, before suddenly sneezing. She curled the blankets around her more. “We’re only trying to find a way to make a fire and get warm.”

“Oh, you want to burn the place down too, is that it, sweetie?”

“No, I mean—”

“Relax, freckles, I’m only kidding.” She gave them a saucy look and waved a languid hand. “The Unnameables know someone already tried.” She paced to the braziers, lighting each one with a flick of her wrist.

The trio immediately crowded around one, warming themselves.

Erika placed her hands on her hips. “Like pigs in mud. So, how did you manage to open the chest, my little darlings?”

Augum rubbed his hands above the fire. “I found the key underneath your desk.”

“So that’s where it went—” she sauntered over and stuck out her palm, raising an arched brow. Bridget dutifully handed over the key. Augum got a whiff of some noxious flowery perfume.

“Thank you, missy, and you really shouldn’t snoop around people’s things.”

Bridget stiffened. “We
weren’t
snooping. This tower isn’t even yours, you moved in just like a squatter.”

Erika ground her jaw, marched over, and slapped Bridget—hard. Augum and Leera stood in shock. Bridget gasped, placed a shaking hand to her cheek, and looked away.

Erika’s voice was a quiet hiss. “How
dare
you compare me to a common squatter, you little derelict. You have no idea who I am or what I am capable of, so shut your mouth and don’t be rude.” She straightened. “Now do the right thing and apologize to me.”

Bridget stood there a moment and made to leave, but Erika grabbed her by the elbow and twisted her around. “Apologize. Now!”

“Don’t you touch her—” Augum said, reaching for Erika’s arm just as it exploded with ten rings of fire.