Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2) (38 page)

Bridget examined her vine-lit palm anew.

“Shyneo.” Leera frowned at her own palm. “Sir, is there some fancy trick I can do with my Shine spell? Augum can shock, Bridget can entwine things—so what can I do?”

One Eye gave her a lost look.

“Oh, right—I mean
Brett
can shock and, um,
Grundvelda
can wrap things with her vine—so what is it that I can do?”

He scratched his beard while considering Leera’s light with his good eye. The water glistened as it slowly revolved around her hand and wrist, as if perpetually trickling downhill. “To be perfectly honest, I do not remember, though you must understand it is not my element.”

Leera extinguished her hand, a sour look on her face.

“My stableman, Fargswabe, has some training in the water element. Perhaps you should inquire with him.”

“Farzwabay?” Leera repeated.

Augum could tell she was skeptical about the name. He was too—it sounded made up.

“Quite right, quite right.” He raised his goblet to his lips, cheeks as red as the wine now. “I do say we could use a bit of music here. Do you three like music? I personally fancy the flute. Odo, please fetch that fine instrument of yours.”

A thin dark-haired servant with a pointy nose and a resigned look on his face bowed and left, returning shortly with an ebony flute. He stood at the far end of the table and played calm melodies. One Eye relaxed in his chair, pouring himself another cup of wine. He stuck in his ear trumpet.

“Such a wonderful talent should be playing in one of the great concert halls.”

Judging by the look on Odo’s face, that exact thought appeared to be running through his mind.

One Eye swished his goblet. “War is coming, you know. That is why we travel south, though I suspect there shan’t be a place far enough to hide from Lord Sparkstone’s ambitions.”

“You mean war with Tiberra,” Augum said.

“I fear Tiberra is but the beginning. Lord Sparkstone strikes east to test his armies, build up his forces. The Blackhaven Herald reports nothing, but rumor says he has Dreadnoughts at his command now. If that be true, they will have already begun forging the finest weapons and armor.”

“It
is
true, sir,” Bridget said, sweeping a braided lock from her eyes. “A Dreadnought came along with Sparkstone to Tornvale. We were listening in through the window of Commander Tridian’s headquarters. We heard him speak but didn’t see him.”

One Eye chuckled and took a sip of wine. “Now that is quite bold. You remind me of my younger days.” He sighed wistfully. “Commander Tridian—or the Blade of Sorrows as he has come to be known. I dealt with him before, you know. A very tough bargainer. He has no arcane talent but is one of the most ruthless men I have ever had the misfortune to stumble across.”

“Sir?” Augum hoped to get One Eye to elaborate. Funny how the man could remember certain details about people but completely forget others.

“Well, last we met, I talked my way out of him taking my men for the Legion’s cause, arguing that Lord Sparkstone encourages and needs people like me and that I am a vital trading link between the cities. I told him I bring in precious supplies and emphasized the fact there is a famine in some parts of Solia. He said I was, what did he say now, ah yes—he said I was merely an ‘entertainer’. Cost a fortune in wines and ale just to keep him on my good side. I hope to never lay my good eye on him again.”

Odo played on as the other two servants cleared the table and brought in dessert, which consisted of lemon sugar pie and candied ginger. Barely able to take another bite, Augum nonetheless forced himself to eat a whole slice and a piece of ginger. At the Penderson farm, he had picked up the habit of eating quickly, perpetually unsure of when he would next eat a proper meal.

He lay back in his chair with a groan, content but bloated. Bridget and Leera had not eaten nearly as much, having left most of their food on the plate. Now they slowly picked away at dessert, enjoying it bite by bite.

“One of my wagons is a private quarter for guests,” One Eye said after taking only one bite of pie. “Truth be told, it is really for bribes. In any case, I will have someone prepare it for you. Feel free to mill around camp until Bartholomew returns, just be sure to keep your ears open for a call from the watch. You did, after all, leave quite an easy trail to follow. Should a call arise, it would be most wise to hide.”

The trio thanked One Eye for the delicious meal and staggered to the door, leaving him to his music and wine. At the last moment, Augum turned around with an idea. One Eye reached for his ear trumpet.

“Sir, we’ve been trying this new spell and, um, I was thinking maybe we could get your help with it. It’s kind of difficult to do without a mentor.”

One Eye smacked his lips, bleary-eyed with wine. “And which spell might that be, young sapling?”

“The Slam spell, sir.”

“Ah, another elemental spell …” His face brightened, though it could have been from the wine. “I suppose I could give you a few pointers, though I cannot even remember the last time I mentored someone.” He gestured to one of his servants. “Strong coffee if you please, Norda, and take the wine.”

Norda, face impassive, cleared the wine and left.

“Come see me after my coffee then.”

The trio understood themselves dismissed, thanked One Eye once again, and left.

“That was a good idea to ask, Aug,” Bridget said. “We need the help.”

Leera looked around. “So where is this Fardabie, anyway?”

“It’s
Fargswabe
,” Bridget said.

“Whatever, I bet you it’s not even his real name. Anyway, let’s find him.” Leera walked past wagon after wagon, asking servants and workmen where Fargswabe was, constantly getting the name wrong. She received amused looks, leaving Augum to wonder if this person even existed. At last, an older man pointed them to a wagon that appeared to be a stable on wheels, full of horses and hay, with drop-ramps across one side. A tall youth a few years older than them was tending to a large stallion. He had close-cropped black hair filled with bits of hay, a small face, and wore loose trousers. He looked bored mechanically brushing the horse.

“Um, excuse us but, we’re looking for Fazabie,” Leera said, checking with Bridget if she got the name right. Bridget just shook her head, not bothering to correct her anymore. Leera reddened as the youth frowned.

“Curse that white-eyed lunatic, still thinking I’m someone I’m not. It’s
Justinius
, not Fargswabe.”

“Oh, um, sorry, didn’t mean offence. If it makes you feel any better, he mixes ours up too.”

“It doesn’t, actually.”

Leera chuckled anxiously. “So, um, why is he calling you by that name?”

Leera’s acting funny, Augum thought.

Justinius shrugged. “Some old Sierran stableman of his I apparently remind him of. I don’t care, I don’t exactly plan to stick around long. So what do you want anyway? And I know I’m supposed to be tending to your horses. I’ve sent a boy to retrieve them already.

“Oh … no, it’s … it’s nothing like that. We’re just—well it’s really me that is, um, that needs, well … you know—” She played with her hair, trying to find the right words, a silly expression on her face that annoyed Augum for some reason.

Justinius wiped his hands on a dirty cloth. “Spit it out already, I don’t have all day.”

“She needs help with the Shine spell,” Bridget said, a small smirk playing across her lips. Leera gave her a quieting look before turning back to Justinius, forcing a toothy smile.

Justinius snorted. “Forget it, freckles, I hate performing any kind of arcanery. I’m destined to become the finest soldier in all of Solia. Besides, I don’t train babies.” He turned back to his horse.

Leera stood gaping.

“Forget it, Lee,” Bridget said, taking her arm. “Guess he doesn’t need the money—”

“Whoa there, you didn’t say anything about money—”

Bridget took her time rummaging through the rucksack, flashing Augum an
are you all right with this?
look. He shrugged. She paused a moment, brow raised, before he assented a reluctant nod.

“How much?” Justinius asked, eyeing the pouch Augum had snagged from Tridian’s quarters.

Bridget turned her back on him and counted out the coins—15 silver, 29 copper in total. “Ten silver?”

Justinius scoffed. “I’m not going to train some little girl the Shine spell for ten measly silvers.”

Leera looked like she was either going to slap him or cry, Augum was unsure which. “I don’t need training on the
entire
Shine spell,” she said. “I just want to learn the extension, that’s all. I already know the main part. Shyneo!” Her palm lit up, the gesture coming across as rather rude.

“Just the extension, huh?” He took the silver. “Fine, but I don’t have much time. The water element extension for Shine is simple—you can extend the light from your palm into a small body of water.”

Leera’s mouth hung open.

“Trying to catch mosquitoes in winter?”

“What—?”

“Never mind.”

“No, I mean … that’s it? I can extend light to water? That’s useless—!”

Justinius shrugged. “To be honest, it kind of is. I’ve never even used it except to show off for a girl.”

“Aww, can’t be that bad, Lee,” Augum said, trying to keep a straight face. “I’m sure it’d be a neat trick to do for celebrations … or something.”

Leera’s eyes narrowed. “That’s exactly my point. It’s just a stupid trick! It’s like plain magic—totally useless.”

Augum, annoyed she had been giving this rude youth so much attention, turned back to Justinius. “So why do you hate performing arcanery, anyway?” He wondered how anybody could possibly hate spell casting. To him, it was the most awesome thing in the world.

“Father forced me to go to the academy but I hit the ceiling at the 2nd degree and dropped out. It was a big embarrassment, but Father never understood that all I ever wanted was to become a swordsman, not some weak warlock like him.”

“You talk like you’re from the city,” Bridget said. “How did you end up here?”

Justinius’ eyes flicked to the pouch again. “I’m from Blackhaven. My father was a stablemaster. Convinced One Eye to take me on as stableman, though I don’t think he needed much convincing—soon as he saw me he thought I was this Fargswabe person and asked me where I’ve been all these years. Nothing I said or did could convince him otherwise. Anyway, Father figured that if I joined the caravan, it would get me out of the Legion’s army. Been right so far, though to be honest, I think I’d have rather joined up. Bored to death here.”

Bridget glanced up from putting away the pouch. “How can you say that? The Legion is a bunch of murderers, they killed our families—”

“I’m sure it was just a terrible misunderstanding. Lord Sparkstone is a leader with vision. One day I’m going to track down a scion just so I can personally give it to him.”

The trio gaped at him.

“This life sucks. I hate this stupid caravan and I hate that old fool. I need a sword in my hand and a cause to fight for.” Justinius’ eyes wandered to the horizon. “The Legion is glorious. Duty unto death. That’s me, that’s what I should be doing. Fighting the good fight, helping forge an empire.”

“Are. You. Serious?” Leera asked.

“The eternal life thing is a lie,” Augum blurted, trying to keep calm in the face of this brainwashed young man.

“You’re just ignorant. Of course it’s true, there’s already been one example— Lord Sparkstone himself paraded the man who liberated the third scion through the streets of Blackhaven. It was in the Blackhaven Herald even. He’s first in line to receive eternity. Our great lord argues we should all have the right to live forever. Eternal life shouldn’t be just for the gods. And I would be careful if I were you, your kind of talk is treasonous.”

Leera’s face went from cherry red to purple. “ ‘Our great lord’? What, did you already sign up—?”

“You know what? I don’t think I’m going to show you how to cast the extension after all, you little brat.”

“Then you can give us back our money—!”

“I don’t think I will. I don’t deal with traitorous runaways.”

“What! You thieving—”

“Thanks, but we have to go now—” Augum grabbed the girls’ arms and practically dragged them away. “Let it go, you two. We have to keep quiet until Bartholomew returns. If the Legion came by asking questions …

Leera glanced back with a venomous look. “The nerve of that thieving barn boy …”

“Ugh, if there was ever a time I wanted to—” Bridget made the motion to strangle someone.

Leera and Augum gave her a look—it took a lot to get Bridget that upset.

“Sorry about the money,” Leera mumbled.

He waved it off. “Forget it. Come on, let’s go see if One Eye is finished his coffee.”

When they returned to the red and orange supper wagon, One Eye was using a loupe and meticulously inspecting a piece of parchment with a large black splotch on it. Upon closer inspection, however, the black blob turned out to be tiny writing.

Without looking up, the old man took a shaky sip from a nearly empty mug of black coffee. “Welcome back, saplings. Did Fargwabe tell you what you need to know?”

“Sort of,” Augum replied, taking a seat at the table and giving Bridget and Leera a sidelong look. Bridget pulled up an elaborate chair and sat smoldering, while Leera angrily cleared her throat. “Sir, did you realize Justi—um, I mean Fungusabwe—wants to join the Legion?”

One Eye jerked so suddenly he dropped his loupe to the floor, which Odo the flutist promptly picked up as if used to doing so. For a moment, Augum thought One Eye was choking, before realizing he was actually laughing.

“Don’t be absurd, Stephanie. Fargswabe would never do such a thing. He is a noble young man.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Leera muttered.

One Eye reached for his ear trumpet. “What’s that now? Speak up girl—”

“She—a—greed!” Odo shouted into the battered ear trumpet.

One Eye jumped and dropped the thing. Odo sighed, picked it up and placed it on the table, a fresh dent on its rim.

The old man grunted, returning to the blotchy parchment. “Now then, I have just been studying up on Slam, and find myself delighted to rediscover the intricacies of this complex little spell.” He looked up from the parchment, the loupe still stuck to his eye, giving him the appearance of a deranged owl. “Did you know that the spell was originally thought up during a thunderstorm? Makes it quite adequate for a lightning warlock, does it not?”