Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2) (30 page)

“Ready?” Bridget asked, hands shaking.

He and Leera nodded.

“APREYO!”

The activity started immediately. The wall reformed before them one stone at a time, the gaping hole shrinking. It was a battle, and despite the raging wind and the painful freezing cold attacking their poor fingers, they managed to repair most of the damage. The remaining barrel-sized portion must have been out of range, probably down below with the remains of the top of the tower.

Upon finishing, they collapsed.

Augum’s head pounded and his stomach roiled nauseously. The spell had taken every ounce of his energy, leaving him gasping as if he had run for leagues. If the repair had failed, they would have been too tired and cold to attempt another.

He coughed, the action sending sharp pain through his broken ribs. Still dizzy, he helped Bridget and Leera stand. The wind mostly gone, it was much easier to get warm huddling around the brazier.

After a good long rest, they once again gathered to perform arcanery, this time using Telekinesis on the brazier. They took it off its iron stand and placed it on the ground. Then they lay down around it, keeping as close to each other as they could to preserve warmth.

As Augum fell asleep, he only hoped the brazier didn’t go out.

The Attempt

Augum heard a distinctive jingling in his dream before someone’s cry of pain suddenly woke him. Erika loomed over them, looking pale, wearing a red winter robe finely embroidered with roses. Bridget was writhing at her feet from an apparent kick.

Leera quickly came to her aid. “You okay, Bridge?”

“She’s fine, she’s just exaggerating. Now get up, you lousy wenches, and make breakfast for me and my nephew.”

Augum winced, having slept badly on the cold stone floor. His ribs throbbed and he felt like an icicle. A thin shaft of pale sunlight filtered in through the remaining hole in the wall, piercing their foggy breath. At least the blizzard had died. Now if they could only escape somehow …

Erika folded her arms. “Aw, quite proud of ourselves, aren’t we? I watched it all, you know, and let me tell you, it was superbly amusing. You three are no end of entertainment. I’m glad you stumbled on my little doorstep.” She sauntered over to the wall and inspected it closer. “Since you’re so determined to repair the tower, why stop here? You can start on the rest after breakfast. I could use some more room.”

She herded them downstairs, humming to herself all the while.

“Start on the bread, Squirrel,” Erika said upon entering the dining room. “I’ll show you how to finish it quickly using the arcane method. Freckles, I want you making porridge. Well, hop to it you nasty little things and stop leering at me like lost deer.” Erika threw the pink aprons in Bridget and Leera’s faces, gesturing impatiently to don them.

The girls were soon hard at work while Augum had to wash and polish dishes, no talking allowed. Meanwhile, Erika hummed obliviously, painting her nails. They worked for some time, breakfast almost ready, when suddenly there came a loud banging from below.

“Who in the—” Erika began, before focusing on the trio, “Were you followed? Tell me!”

“We don’t know—!” Bridget said, raising her hands defensively as Erika’s arm rippled to life with flaming rings.

“Get. Up. Stairs,” she said through gritted teeth. The trio didn’t need telling twice. They zoomed up the steps, Erika marching right behind while the banging grew louder down below. She locked the door behind them, warning, “I’ll be watching.”

Bridget angrily ripped off her apron and threw it aside, followed quickly by Leera. The trio wrapped themselves in blankets and sat silently around the still-smoking brazier, its coals extinguished, trying to ignore the orb.

Augum hoped it was his great-grandmother downstairs, or even Cled with an army of former prisoners here to return the favor of freedom.

Their breath fogged in the morning cold as they squirmed to catch the shaft of sunlight coming in through the hole. Time passed. What was happening down there? Who had come?

Suddenly Leera froze. “You hear that?”

Augum perked up. “Hear what? I don’t—”

“Shh! Listen …”

They sat listening. Sure enough, there
was
some kind of sound, some kind of tinny, quiet echo.

“I think it’s coming from the orb—” Bridget stood and cautiously approached it.

“Wait, what are you doing—?” he asked while she put her ear up to it. Her mouth fell open and she gestured for them to hurry over, a finger to her lips. When he placed his own ear against it, he was astonished to hear conversation. It was a bit distant and echoed, but he could distinctly make out Erika’s voice.

“—oh no, my dear lord, this is all for me,” she said in sugar sweet tones, finishing with a girlish laugh. Her ears jingled loudly in comparison to other sounds. He deduced from those sounds that a slew of other people had to be there, and by the creaking armor, some had to be soldiers.

“No—? And what about the horses, are they both yours as well, my dear?” asked a deep skeptical voice Augum instantly recognized. Flashes of an iron room paraded across his mind as his heart threatened to hammer a hole in his chest.

“Oh, aren’t you a suspicious thing … why, yes of course they’re mine, sugar.” Erika’s voice was much louder than Commander Tridian’s. She had to be wearing whatever it was that allowed communication with the orb.

“A lady of my stature requires variety, you understand. Now please, will you and your men not join me for a most delicious breakfast?”

“That would be fine, we shall speak over breakfast then,” Commander Tridian replied. Augum had the distinct impression the Blade of Sorrows was just playing a game. He knew exactly what was going on, likely even that the trio were hiding upstairs.

“Sergeant, inform our young necrophyte he may join us.”

“Yes, Commander.”

That had to be Robin they referred to …

There were some fussing noises that sounded like she was in the kitchen. “Please, noble sirs, sit. Why, just look how handsome you all are in that shiny armor. Now come come, do sit now, I have a fine table and chairs that don’t bite.”

Chairs squeaked as large men sat down.

“Let me, uh … just fix the bread here …” Erika said, humming a little quickly, the soldiers sitting silent in the background. Augum imagined the soldiers staring at her from her own table.

He wondered if she knew they were listening to her. Perhaps she was too distracted to look through the orb, or maybe it takes concentration, much like a spell. He wished they could see too, just to see her sweat …

“That is quite a lot of food for a lady all by her lonesome,” Tridian said.

Erika gave a nervous chortle. “Blizzards always do make me hungry the next day—so what brings you fine bunch of gallant men this way?” and gave a girlish giggle.

“Deserters.”

There was the sound of something clanging to the floor. “Oh, dear me, I’m such a klutz, you must forgive me, good sirs.” She picked it up, trying to get back to a humming rhythm, though now the hum turned into a kind of nervous gurgle.

Augum wondered if the stirrings in the background were the soldiers covering their ears. He imagined them wincing and exchanging disgusted looks.

“Ah, our honored necrophyte joins us.”

A silence, followed by, “Auntie! What are you—”

“Unnameables … my sweet, dear, wonderful nephew!” Erika swept forth and no doubt embraced him, as there was a tremendous scuffling and squishing noise. “Oh my darling,
darling
Robin, how good it is to see you again—!”

Robin Scarson was her nephew? Augum exchanged incredulous looks with the girls. He couldn’t believe she had mistaken him for that evil snot.

“But Auntie Erika, I thought you were, um, you know, on leave from the, um, academy …”

“Oh. Oh yes! Yes indeed, my dear nephew. I am on leave to, uh … to investigate the, uh … the surrounding wilds and, uh … and confer back with my report.”

Even Augum cringed with how badly this was going.

“So, my young apprentice … this is your Aunt?”

Augum would have done anything to see Robin and Erika’s faces there.

Robin cleared his throat lightly. “She is, Commander.”

There was an awkward pause. “Perhaps my lady would like to serve some tea?”

Now Augum had no doubt whatsoever that the Blade of Sorrows, a master questioner, had seen right through Erika’s measly little attempt to obfuscate the fact she herself was a deserter. The question now was, when pressed, would she turn the trio over or attempt to keep them for herself and deny their existence here? If Tridian or Robin told her the trio’s importance, he hadn’t a doubt as to what she would do, especially if there was a reward attached.

“Not good,” Leera mouthed with a shake of her head.

He silently agreed, wishing he had trained harder and knew more spells. On the other hand, what seems impossible may only appear unlikely under the influence of Centarro …

There were noises he interpreted as taking the kettle off the fire, which Bridget had set earlier, and the sound of water being poured.

“This tea is quite … unusual,” Commander Tridian said. “I do not think I have had the pleasure of tasting it before.”

“Isn’t it simply divine? I got it from a merchant who travels regularly to Dramask.”

“Is my lady aware that the Legion has cut all trade with Dramask?”

“Oh, uh, yes I am, I acquired the tea beforehand though. But enough about me—let me hear about my precious nephew!”

“Auntie, I’ve become an honored necrophyte!”

“So I hear, dear nephew, so I hear.” A nervous chuckle. “This is most … fantastic and wonderful. I have nothing but respect for the Legion and where it’s going.”

“And I used my new necromantic spells to help capture escaped prisoners in Tornvale!”

“Really now? You were always so brave, my precious little—” there was a sound like hair being ruffled.

“Oh, yes Auntie, those filthy prisoners were set loose on the poor population of the town, killing and maiming at will. I made sure they suffered for their crimes though.”

“Now now, apprentice, it is unbecoming of an honored necrophyte to gloat,” Commander Tridian said in a fatherly way.

“Yes, Commander. Oh, and Auntie, guess what?”

“What is it, honey pie?”

He guffawed. “For my efforts I was awarded my own healer! Sure, she has zero arcane talent but she can get the job done. I have her with me at all times, mostly in chains.”

Augum thought he was going to throw up. The snot had to be talking about Mya! He instantly knew he had to save her. Bridget and Leera were looking at him, as if trying to guess what he would do. He stared back at them and mouthed, “Mya,” then the word, “rescue.”

Leera exchanged a look with Bridget, but Augum couldn’t decipher what it meant and frankly didn’t care—he was concentrating on what they were saying below.

“—and you deserve many more servants at your beck and call, Nephipoo.” Erika prolonged a chortle, earrings jingling.

“Aw, Auntie, stop that.” Augum imagined Erika pinching Robin’s cheek. Then there was the sound of an embrace. “And don’t call me that right now,” Robin added in a whisper.

There was the sound of a glass placed on the table. Tridian cleared his throat. “Let us talk plainly, my lady. The Lord of the Legion is not in a good mood, and if my great lord is not in a good mood, I am not in a good mood. Do you happen to know
why
the Lord of the Legion is ill-tempered at the moment?”

A high-pitched giggle. “Oh, my sweet lord, I’m sure I haven’t the faintest clue …!”

“Well let me make it clear.” Augum imagined him giving her a perfunctory smile. “The great lord is angry because it has come to his attention that should he achieve the goals of his Great Quest—that is, attain all seven scions—he would destroy himself in the process. Now, that isn’t to say our lord is not trying to find a way around this …
limitation
… but as you can imagine, it is not a pleasant turn of events.”

“Oh, yes of course, I understand.” Erika sounded relieved.

“I am afraid that is not all …” There was a pause as someone tapped the table rhythmically. “The Lord of the Legion is also unnerved by additional news supplied to him. This news, or rather knowledge, shall we say, is dangerous and contrary to the cause. Would you happen to know what news I am referring to, my dear?”

Erika clucked like a hen, a laugh not shared by anyone else. “I’m sure I don’t, my dear commander.”

“Let me say this, my lady—a Leyan man left the plane of Ley recently—”

“—oh, but we don’t really believe in children’s tales now, do we my lord?”

“I’m sure what my aunt is trying to say is—”

“—as I was saying,” cut in Commander Tridian in a voice rapidly losing patience, “a Leyan man had departed Ley with four youths and one healer. Now as it turns out, one of the boys in this motley gang turned out to be none other than the son of the Lord of the Legion.” The finger drumming increased in loudness. “The Lord of the Legion’s son. Could you believe such a thing?”

Erika swallowed. “My sweet lord—”

“—Commander,” Tridian corrected.

“—of course, forgive me, Commander.” Erika’s voice wavered. “It’s just that the news is so incredible I seem to have lost my composure.” There was a hurried wafting sound Augum interpreted as Erika fanning herself with her hand.

“And that is not even the treasonous, undermining knowledge I speak of,” Commander Tridian continued in a quiet voice. “You are fully aware, I am sure, of the Great Quest, in which our lord promises eternal life to those that serve him, are you not?”

“Of course, my sweet—err, commander. Why, every woman knows of the Great Quest and her duties for the cause.”

“Do they now?” A pause. “You see, the crux of the matter is the Leyan that came with the children died. He did not die in battle, or from some disease, or from falling off some cursed cliff. No, he died simply
because
he left Ley. You can see the implications if this kind of knowledge became known to the common peasant, do you not?”

“Commander, you should not have told me this, oh please, I did not hear you say such a thing, it is
treasonous
.”