Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2) (32 page)

I will learn the arcane tongue …

A jolt of recognition.

He shot his arm out and beckoned, summoning and applying everything he had learned with Telekinesis, every ounce of arcane strength he possessed—and then reaching beyond, into the arcane unknown. Unconsciously, his 1st degree ring erupted around his forearm, a miniature bolt of lightning spiraling brighter than it had ever before.

He knew it was possible, though at a much higher degree, to move people. He
knew it.
Yet could he himself conjure that power well before he was ready?

He willed Bridget to stop falling and float to him. He felt his arcanery grip her, and amazingly, her fall slowed—but not nearly enough.

“Leera—help!” he called through gritted teeth, for he was arcanely
holding
Bridget, and if he wasn’t careful, she would rip him right off the ledge. She kept falling, screaming, pulling at him like a sack of potatoes on an invisible rope.

Leera, without even having to look up, reached out and beckoned, groaning from the strain, a band of watery light vibrantly coming to life around her forearm.

Miraculously, Bridget’s fall arrested—
and reversed
.

The concentration and energy required, however, was so much beyond what he had ever attempted, he felt death loom its voracious head in the frantic beating of his heart. The pain of this arcane push was scorching, as if a hot brand was being applied to his very being, but he forced himself to endure its searing sting.

His head felt like it was going to explode, every pulse a vicious hammer blow to the brain. Yet if he so much as blinked, Bridget would fall, and there was no way he would have the strength to try the spell again.

She slowly hovered toward him, wide-eyed and gasping, until at last she was within arms’ reach, and just in time too, for he sensed he only had one last precious moment of concentration left. He simultaneously let go of the spell while snatching her out of thin air. They fell backwards onto snow-covered stone, the wind sweeping over them in cool waves.

The consequences of pushing his arcane limits were immediate. Bridget was saying something but he couldn’t hear through the hissing rush of blood in his head. The pain was piercing, like an icicle through his skull. He couldn’t help but scream and hold his head.

He tasted the iron tang of blood on his tongue, felt it drip from his nose. The pain built to an excruciating climax—he considered flinging himself off the tower to end it. Mercifully, the walls of blackness, the final defense against such blinding agony, closed in, enveloping him in deep unconsciousness.

***

When he came to, Bridget was holding him in her arms, gently stroking his hair. Leera sat beside her, face pale, nose bloody.

Bridget put a finger to her lips when she saw him open his eyes, gesturing that someone was coming.

For a moment, he didn’t know where they were, thinking they must have gone outside Castle Arinthian to hide from Mrs. Stone or something. The fog in his brain refused him context. The thought seemed perfectly plausible until he heard the growling voice of a man, just to the other side of the ruined heap of wall they hid behind.

Then it slowly came back—the tower, Erika, Bridget falling … the voice had to be a Black Guardsman searching for them.

The tracks—did someone cover their tracks? He tried to raise his head but Bridget held him firm, pleading with her eyes.

“I can tell you they certainly aren’t up here!” said the voice before making its way down, the sound of creaking armor following.

At last, she let go. He winced as he raised his throbbing head, and peeked around the corner. The tracks had been swept—maybe by Bridget or maybe by the wind. In any case, there was zero evidence of them walking, or in his case, dragging their way across the snow.

“I tossed our aprons and blankets down to get them off us,” Leera murmured when he had scuttled back. She held her head and kept her eyes closed.

Bridget gripped his arm, eyes moist. “Aug—”

“—I know.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

“You saved my life. Both of you. It was … unbelievable …” Suddenly she drew them into a tight hug. His ribs ground against each other, but he ignored the pain. It was nothing like what he had experienced earlier anyway.

Bridget sniffled before letting go. “Thought for sure I was going to die. How did you do it though? To move an actual person around with Telekinesis … I mean, who knows what degree level that even is—”

They shrugged. He sat beside Leera, grimacing. “Guess the motivation was there.” He thought about what happens to him when he gets cornered, how a wild lightning charge sometimes coalesces and erupts, and wondered if it was the same principle. He now understood how someone could die performing arcanery. If he had pushed himself like that with his element as opposed to a standard spell, somehow he doubted he would have lived.

The trio took time to recuperate, cleaning blood off with snow, catching their breath, and waiting things out.

Meanwhile, plenty of distant yelling came from within the tower, mostly about the trio and where they were. Did Erika lie? Did she have them hidden? Was she thinking of cashing them in to Sparkstone herself to get some kind of reward? Was she aiding the insurgents? These questions and more were barked into her face from both her precious nephew and, more dangerously, from the Blade of Sorrows, who was utterly incensed, promising a joyful stay at the Tornvale prison.

Augum didn’t feel one bit sorry for her as she was dragged shouting and weeping down the steps by guards. Although he somehow wasn’t surprised, he wondered why she didn’t just use her arcanery to teleport away.

Commands were thrown out to continue searching the place and look for a trail outside. The trio judged it best to stay in their little hiding spot for now, tucked behind a partially destroyed wall and a pile of rubble. Despite the sun being out for a change, it was still very cold and windy, so they couldn’t stay here for more than a couple hours at most. Then they would have to make their move, and it was for that that they planned.

“Why don’t we sneak back down,” Augum began in a whisper, “to the room we had been imprisoned in? They wouldn’t think of going back there.”

“No, the orb’s probably still there,” Leera said.

Bridget glanced to the edge. “Well we’re definitely not climbing down.” This drew quiet chuckles.

“We could charge down the stairs and barrel over anyone in our way,” Leera said, still holding her head and wincing in pain.

He smiled. Saving Bridget made the world seem a lot easier to deal with, knowing she was by their side to enjoy it with them, and that they were capable enough to save her from falling to her death.

A reflective hour passed with no consensus reached as to what to do. Luckily, the throbbing had at least diminished to a manageable level.

I’m going to scout a little,” he said.

“No, it’s too dangerous—” Bridget said.

“Let him go, Bridge. We have to get out of the cold eventually.”

Bridget gave a reluctant nod. “Just please be careful.”

“I will, promise.”

He crept downstairs as quiet as a mouse, ready to bolt back up at the slightest noise. The door to the room that once confined them was ajar, while the door leading to the lower portion of the tower was closed.

He peeked around the doorframe and saw that the orb now sat in the middle of the room. For a horrifying moment, he imagined himself spotted, until he thought about it some more. The orb was away from its original spot, almost as if it had broken free of its mooring and rolled in that direction. This was odd because Erika had arcanely locked it in place.

So did it mean the orb was ‘off’?

Trusting his instincts, he tiptoed up to it. It appeared cold and dead. He poked it, yet no eye opened from within. Finally, he picked it up. It was stone heavy. He carried it back to the girls, who almost jumped out of their skin.

“
Augum Stone
, have you completely lost all sense?” Bridget asked.

“You sound like Nana.” He thought he’d have some fun and shook it.

The girls gasped.

“I think its link with Erika is broken or something.” He put his ear to it. “Can’t hear anything.”

“What if it’s only turned off for now?”

He hadn’t thought about that part. “Um, well, don’t think it is, but I suppose that’s possible.”

Even Leera, who usually had his back in these kinds of things, was looking at him as if he had lost his mind.

He groaned. “Fine, I’ll go put it back …”

“Wait—” Bridget ran both hands through her hair. “Maybe … maybe we could use it. If we can figure out how to tap into its power somehow, it could be useful.”

“I think it’s worth trying,” he said. “And honestly, I don’t think it’s off temporarily or anything like that.”

Leera took it from him. “I command you to, um, to meld with me.”

He raised his brows. “ ‘Meld with me’?”

She ignored him. “I command you to be my eyes—”

“Oh, give me that—” Bridget said. She gave the orb a hug, to which both Augum and Leera had to hold back from laughing. It just looked so weird. After she tried a bunch of different variations, all to do with hugging for some reason, she gave up and returned it to him.

He watched it, grimacing.

“Trying to win a staring contest?” Leera asked.

“No … I’m thinking. Just give me a moment.”

She folded her arms and sat back to watch, a smug look on her face.

He thought he’d try something neither of the girls had—arcanery. Although his head still hurt from earlier, he was nonetheless able to perform the spells at a basic level. First, he tried the Unconceal spell, though that didn’t do a thing, the globe looking as dull as ever. Next, he tried Telekinesis, bobbing it up and down in the air, which also didn’t do anything except maybe make his head hurt more and widen Leera’s smirk. Then he tried Repair, but as Bridget casually pointed out, “It doesn’t look broken to me …”

“Only one possible one left. Shyneo.” He placed his lit palm directly onto the globe—and it instantly lit up. On top of that, he was able to
see
through it for a moment, though the glimpse was as brief as blinking.

“Whoa—” Bridget edged away from it. “You did that, right? I thought I saw an eye open for a moment there.”

“I think that was me, yeah.” He extinguished his palm. Now, how to see through it?

A genuine smile replaced Leera’s smirk. “All right, you win. Good job.” She picked it up. “Hey, why isn’t it locked in place?”

“I think I have to lock it down or something.”

She revolved it in her hands. “It should come with a parchment of instructions. Can you see through it now?”

“Nope.”

Bridget shivered and drew her robe tighter. “Maybe it needs some kind of command word.”

“Again, instructions …”

Although it was warmer than the day before due to the sun, they were slowly freezing, and the only real alternative to Mrs. Stone miraculously showing up out of the blue to snatch them to safety (as Leera hoped would happen) was to descend the stairs and somehow sneak by the guards.

When he peeked over the edge of the tower earlier, there were a slew of Black Guards searching for them. He peeked again, this time hoping to catch a glimpse of Mya, whom he was still planning on rescuing. Only about a dozen milled below now, chatting idly as if taking a break. A little ways off in the forest, he spotted men on horseback searching the ground.

He retreated from the edge, disappointed he had not seen Mya. “They’re still there.”

Bridget blew on her hands. “We’re freezing. I say we go down.”

He grabbed the globe. “I’m ready.”

They followed him to the stairway door just below their former prison room. He placed his hand on the handle and his ear against the door, hearing nothing. Was there no one left in the tower? There were three rooms below this level—Erika’s dining room, Erika’s bedroom, and that burned-out room, but it was possible someone could be in any of them without him hearing. There could even be guards on the other side of this very door. If that was the case, they were most likely doomed.

He went with his instincts again and twisted the handle.

The passage was clear.

They descended quietly. When he was sure the dining room was just around the bend, he stopped and listened.

Nothing.

He took his first step toward the dining room when the screech of a chair had them freeze to the spot.

“Ugh, I’m so sick of waiting for the search party.” It was Robin’s voice. “I’m telling you, we should be out there practicing our craft. It’s so stupid that we have to sit here with nothing better to do than stare at each other.”

“What, am I not pretty enough to look at?”

And that was Haylee’s voice!

The trio exchanged looks. Haylee Tennyson had been their enemy back in Sparrow’s Perch. Her grandfather had been the central figure in orchestrating the whole raid by the Legion in the first place, a raid that took the lives of Bridget and Leera’s families and friends.

Augum remembered Haylee well—long-haired blonde with cold blue eyes and a small pointed nose, walking around the village like she owned the place, a clique of girls and boys (Robin included) always in tow.

“You know what I meant,” Robin said.

Haylee breathed an exasperated sigh. “Better to be warm in here than freeze out there.”

“Guard, what say you?” Robin said. “Think we can go soon? Obviously the lowborn rats have escaped.”

“I do not know, my lord, but we have orders to keep you here until relieved by the commander.”

Robin drummed the table.

“Stop that already—” Haylee said. “You’ve been driving us crazy with that for hours now.”

He stopped, making a sound like he was sucking on his teeth.

“Really, Robin, you can be so crass
sometimes. Anyway, you were
supposed
to be teaching me about the fundamentals of being a necrophyte. I mean, that’s why I’m here, right? Practical experience in the field and all that?”

“Yeah yeah, I don’t feel like it right now, okay? Maybe later.”