Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2) (28 page)

“I’m not your nephew, and I won’t—”

Erika suddenly shot out of her chair, breaking a crystal goblet on the floor. Rings of fire burst around her arm as her face swelled like a bullfrog. Her head tilted slightly. “Do it. Now.”

He swallowed, fearing she was going to torture one of the girls if he didn’t. “Please bring me a bowl of soup.”

Bridget carried a steaming bowl over giving him a particular look he translated as
just go with it.
Of course, it could also have meant
don’t do anything stupid, she’s crazy
.

“Here you are, sir,” she said, curtseying properly like Mya would have. “And yours is coming right up, m’lady.”

Erika’s brows rose. She seemed genuinely surprised to find rings around her arm and promptly extinguished them. Then she adjusted her dress, giving a nervous chortle. “Oh, my darling … I forget myself sometimes. You must forgive Auntie Erika. And just look at my silliness, I seem to have broken a goblet.” She snapped her fingers sharply a few times.

Bridget bent down and placed her hands over the broken crystal. “Apreyo.” The goblet reformed. She polished it and set it back on the table with a curtsy, keeping her eyes low the entire time.

“Now that’s more like it. I have to say, it’s nice having servants who can actually fix a thing or two around here. I am so oft used to bumbling idiot girls who don’t know the simplest cantrip. Now fetch me my soup, girl.”

Bridget curtsied, hands in front, and returned to the counter beside Leera.

“Well hurry up already, haven’t you learned that a course is supposed to be served at the same time!”

“Yes, m’lady, it’s coming.” Bridget hurried back with Erika’s soup before returning to make the rest of the meal with Leera. He saw her whisper something encouraging to Leera, stopping as soon as Erika raised her head.

“Not bad, though a bit more salt would be prudent. Freckles, did you hear me? SALT!”

Leera jumped and fumbled a fork. It fell to the floor with a clang.

Everyone froze.

Erika smiled kindly. “Oh, you desperately poor thing. It’s all right, Auntie Erika won’t be mean. Go ahead and pick it up.”

Leera slowly picked up the fork, never taking her eyes off Erika.

“Now do be a dear and bring auntie the salt.”

Leera promptly brought a silver bowl of salt to the table.

“Well don’t just
bring
it here you silly goat, put it in my soup! There now, is that so hard? And don’t overdo—THAT’S TOO MUCH!” She suddenly slapped Leera so hard she was sent sprawling to the ground. Augum jumped out of his chair but Leera shot him a halting look, face marked with a new red welt in the shape of a hand. Erika stood glaring, daring her to try anything, arm poised ready to flare up.

Bridget helped Leera pick herself up off the floor, gesturing for Augum to start a conversation or something, anything to get Erika distracted. He actually thought of casting Centarro and doing something crazy, but Erika was too paranoid and dangerous. It was just too risky. He hoped Leera could hang in there and slowly sat back down. His knuckles were white under the table.

“So, uh, what was that orb in your trunk, Auntie Erika?” He had to force a polite tone.

Erika’s face hardened. “You mean the orb you tried to steal earlier?”

“No, we were just—”

“Oh, dear young man, you certainly are an easy mark, I was merely jesting! I’m sure it was nothing but young, unadulterated curiosity.” She cleared her throat and graciously took her seat again. “Ah, to be young again. You know when I was your age I got into all sorts of trouble. First year at the academy and all that.” She sighed, eyes misting over, before glancing back to him. “Sorry, hon, what were we talking about—?”

“The orb, Auntie Erika.” He’d rather swim in a rancid sewer than keep calling her that.

“Right you have it, kiddo. It’s a seeing orb, kind of like a speaking orb, but
better.
Neat little thing I … discovered once.” She flashed a twisted smile, giving him the impression she stole it, and didn’t care too much if he knew that.

“It’s quite the clever and amusing artifact, really. Set it up anywhere and you can see and hear through it. It’s indestructible, locks in place so no one can carry it away, and for fun, you can let the people know you’re watching, as you yourselves experienced.”

He remembered the way a giant eye opened inside the orb, almost lizard-like.

“I once amused myself by watching a merchant road with an unsavory reputation. Lo and behold, a group of imbecile bandits took interest in the orb. You should have seen it—there was this great big fat oaf that just wouldn’t let it go. He tried everything, using sticks, rocks, and even a monstrous cudgel.” She tapped at her temple. “Not the sharpest blade in the armory. Anyhoo, the entire time the bandits talked, and I heard every word of their plans. Hours of entertainment I tell you, not to mention a nice payoff in the end.”

Bridget served a sliced loaf of hard bread and curtsied, face, hair and apron stained with flour. When Erika spotted the apron, she just shook her head. “Filthy servant squirrel … hey, you know what, dear nephew? That’ll be her name—Squirrel. So we have Squirrel and Freckles. How quaint.”

Bridget’s face reddened. “Will that be all, m’lady?”

“You watch your tone, princess. And no, that will not be all. Fetch me a glass of Titan wine and squeeze out some juice for my waiting nephew here.”

“Yes, m’lady.” Bridget curtsied and returned to the prep area, before abruptly turning around. “Pardon, m’lady, but, where are the oranges and the wine?”

“Oh, for—oranges in the basket under the table, wine in the corner cabinet!” Erika shook her head, earrings jingling, before turning back to Augum with a sweet smile. “I really have no patience with incompetence, something I’m sure we share, dear nephew.” She played with her empty goblet, watching him, while Bridget uncorked a bottle of wine and poured Erika a glass.

The wine made him think of his mother. Before she wed his father, she was Terra Titan of the Titans of Sierra, hot lands of the south. That side of the family made wine from giant grapes and owned a vineyard. One day, he hoped to visit it, see if there were grandparents or cousins he could get to know. Strange how there he was, in the middle of nowhere with some crazy woman, and she drank wine that had a connection to him.

Erika brought out the silver mirror and began fussing with her hair. He wondered if now was a good time to ask which route was best to take on the way to the Northern Peaks, presuming she’d even let them go, something he tried not to think about.

After a while of Augum failing to supply Erika with a steady stream of conversational material, her look soured. She raised the goblet of wine, swished it a while and drained it, gesturing impatiently for Bridget to pour her another. She drained that one too, the veins of her crooked nose reddening along with her cheeks. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Augum.

She began tapping the table. “What’s on your mind, cupcake?”

The room went quiet.

“Nothing—I was just thinking about how nice this—this dining table was—”

Erika stopped tapping a moment before her words tumbled forth in a rush. “Don’t make a fool of me, boy, I’ll flay you raw—!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Erika’s chair kicked back as she shot out of it, charging over, pleated dress billowing like her reddening cheeks. She put her face right into his. He held his breath from that ghastly perfume. “You aren’t thinking of escaping my little domicile, are you now, sweet nephew?”

“No, it’s quite comfortable here …” He was always a terrible liar, and this time was no exception. Erika’s face hardened and she slapped him hard, not once, but thrice, each time grabbing his jaw and returning it forward, so he stared into her eyes while she did it again. With each strike, Bridget and Leera gasped. He felt himself getting hot all over as involuntary tears welled from the sting. The beginnings of wild electric arcanery stirred within. He noticed her hair statically stiffen a little. If she had just slapped him one more time, something might have happened, but as it were, she let go of his jaw with a spiteful jerk, took a step back, and crossed her arms.

“So you want to leave, do you? After all the courtesies I’ve shown you? After everything I’ve done for you, bringing you in from a murderous storm and
feeding you—?
” She dabbed at her dry eyes with a cloth, batting her lashes. “I hope you know that hurt me more than you. Such ungrateful little brats …”

She made a show of sniffing while he touched his tender cheek, trying to calm down and not say anything that would make things worse. When her gaze returned to him, it was ice cold.

“You listen carefully, kiddos. You—are—not—going—anywhere. You’re going to work hard for me, oh, yes you are. I need servants to cater to my needs—the floors need scrubbing, shoes need stitching, china needs cleaning, shelves need dusting, and there’s certainly plenty to fix around here. When you’re done, this will be a proper noble tower fit for a queen, and I will make proper servants of you, by gods I swear I will.”

Her hands straddled the arms of his chair as she leaned into his face.

“Don’t think for one moment I’m going to let you just mosey right out of here. Nobody knows you’re here, understand me? Nobody! And no one’s going to miss you either if you should suddenly, let us say, disappear …”

He stared into those ice eyes, knowing she meant every word of her threat.

Her voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. “Now are you going to be a good boy and work hard for Auntie Erika, or will you force your poor aunt to do something she might … later regret?”

He hesitated just a moment before nodding. “I’ll work, I’ll work—”

She ruffled his hair. “That’s a good boy,” and slithered back to her chair. If by then Bridget and Leera did not see how dangerous the situation was, they certainly saw it now. He spotted them exchanging looks before hurriedly getting back to preparing the final course.

It was almost worth taking their chances out in the storm. The way she looked at him though, it was as if he was an open book to her. He suspected she could read every traitorous thought that went through his head.

She’d make a fine pairing with the Blade of Sorrows …

Erika gestured for her wine to be refilled, took a swig, and began sipping at her soup. Augum picked up his spoon and mechanically did the same, tasting nothing, mind frantically working away.

Erika finally shoved away the empty bowl. “Next serving, you little wench. Well come on, hurry it up, Freckles!”

Leera, apron as dirty as Bridget’s and a welt on her cheek, hurriedly did as she was told. Augum indicated she should take his too, purposefully leaving it half finished so they could have it. Leera saw it and mouthed, “Thank you,” before taking the bowl away.

Erika’s eyes narrowed as she watched the girls work. Suddenly she raised her arm, pointed it at Bridget, and said, “Flustrato.”

Bridget, who happened to be working with a fork, suddenly brought it up before her eyes. “What’s this for?”

Leera gave her a look as if she had lost her mind.

Erika slapped her knee and wheezed with laughter.

Bridget turned around and looked at Augum. “Do you know, I think I like pie. I do, I really do. It has to be pumpkin pie and only mother is allowed to make it.” She blinked. “But she can’t make it right now, she’s too busy.”

Erika snorted a loud pig-like laugh. She put a hand on her chest and took a few deep breaths. “Now that was exactly what I needed.” She waved idly at Bridget, who gave her an odd look, glanced down at herself, and quickly resumed working beside Leera.

“Do you know what I love about the Confusion spell, my handsome nephew? You can control the intensity of the victim’s befuddlement. Superbly useful. Sometimes quite hilarious too.” She flexed her jaw. “But I suppose you won’t enjoy that one until you reach your 4th degree. Too bad, I’d love to watch you confound these little harpies.”

He didn’t reply, having no idea what he should say to that.

The girls served the main course, featuring arcanely roasted lamb, potatoes and dark gravy, roasted sweet leeks, salted peas and spinach, and buttered mushrooms. As good as the food looked and smelled, he could barely taste it. His cheek still stung, but that was nothing to the pain in his chest, not to mention the buzzing anxiety in his stomach.

His mind kept drifting to the pet in the basement, wondering what it was. If they escaped, they’d have to do it in such a way that the thing couldn’t come after them …

Erika’s plate sat mostly untouched, her goblet empty. Her cheeks were now apple crimson, eyes glassy. “Squirrel, Freckles—by my side!”

Bridget and Leera scampered to her and curtsied, hands folded before their soiled aprons. “Yes, m’lady?” Bridget said.

“You did well. Take one slice of hard bread, not more. My treat. Now off with you, stand in the corner until you’re summoned, and eat
quietly,
understand me?”

“Yes, m’lady.” Bridget and Leera curtseyed once again and retreated to the corner, grabbing a slice of stale hard bread in the process.

Augum’s heart knotted knowing his two friends had to watch him eat such a luxurious meal. He wished there was something he could do. Centarro ran through his mind once again, yet should it fail, this murderous woman might just kill them all, and her arcane skills easily outmatched them, even with Centarro.

Erika cleared her throat. “Is anyone forgetting anything?” Her crystal goblet sang as she flicked it with a long fingernail.

Bridget immediately brought the wine, mumbling, “I’m sorry, m’lady.”

Erika watched her pour with an ever-increasing acid face. “You need to learn to be mindful, my pets. Now put the bread on the floor beside me.”

“M’lady?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Squirrel, or you’ll rue the day.”

The girls exchanged nervous looks. Bridget gathered their measly slices and placed them on the floor beside Erika.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Erika asked.

“M’lady—?”

“Eat. It. You too, Freckles. Eat the damn bread off the floor. Now.”