Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2) (9 page)

When Mrs. Stone concluded the conversation, Thomas and Oba departed the grove without another word.

“Let’s find out what’s going on,” Leera said.

They joined Sydo and Mya at the table, now full of food again. When Mrs. Stone sat down, she only stared at the overflowing bowls—obviously something was on her mind. Augum decided to give her a moment and addressed Sydo instead.

“Just want to apologize again for … for what I did back there. I really wasn’t thinking clearly.”

The prince gave him a cold look.

Mya leaned closer to him. “Your Highness, perhaps—”

Sydo cut her off with a hissing whisper. “I do not require your advice on the matter,
servant
.”

Augum held his tongue. If Sydo wanted to play it that way,
fine
—what did he care anyway? He turned back to Mrs. Stone, who had not taken notice of them. There was a lot to go over, so he thought it best to start simple.

“Nana, what became of Attyla the Mighty, did the besieged castle return him his son?”

“Hmm …?”

“Attyla’s son, did they—”

“—no, they did not return him his son.”

“So … how was Attyla defeated in the end?”

“Legend says by the love and sacrifice of his wife.” She glanced at him. “You need not concern yourself, Great-grandson, I shall not hand you over to your father in hopes it would pacify him. Nor will I hand over the scion, for it would mean death on a scale we have yet not seen. Maybe even the end of Ley.”

All right, she wasn’t going to give him or the scion up. He felt a wave of cool relief. “And how old is Krakatos? Is he at least fifteen hundred years old?”

“I believe so. It is said he is the oldest millennial ever to have lived.”

The oldest millennial to have ever lived. Augum suddenly thought his next question was rather tripe and barely mumbled it. “I just thought maybe we can ask him how Atrius defeated Occulus … or something.” “What’s the point?” Leera muttered. “Couldn’t understand a single word he said back there. It’d be like conversing with a textbook.”

Mya looked up at the roiling clouds, her delicate features contorting with worry. “Mrs. Stone, when will we be departing for the Northern Peaks to meet the Seers?”

“I must go alone.”

There were audible gasps. Augum promptly forgot about all the other questions he had for her.

“The journey is too dangerous,” she added.

“But, Mrs. Stone, how long will you be gone?” Bridget asked.

Mrs. Stone filled her bowl with exotic fruits. “That I do not know.”

“But … can you not just teleport there and back?”

“Teleport only works to places you have already been. Further, it does not allow cross-plane travel. It will mostly have to be a journey on foot.”

“When will you depart?” Leera asked.

“As soon as possible, child.” She gestured skyward. “As you can plainly see, the question of how to defeat Sparkstone cannot wait. The more scions he gains, the greater the danger for all.” She then peered around at them, her brows crossing. “Oh for mercy’s sakes—it is not the end of the world. You will see me again. Now
eat
.”

But to Augum those clouds certainly
looked
like the end of the world.

The group reluctantly started pawing at their food. Augum played with something akin to a blue pomegranate a while before deciding he wasn’t very hungry. “What’re we going to do while you’re gone, Nana?”

“Continue training with Thomas and Oba. They will be your guardians.”

“What about this penance thing they keep talking about?”

Mrs. Stone arranged her bowl a moment. “If I am not mistaken, Leyan penance is usually nothing more than meditation.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Leera mumbled.

“Be mindful, for Thomas and Oba broke the vow for you. Train and work hard. Practice every day. You must learn to protect yourselves. I will leave you the blue book on arcaneology—use it well. I expect that upon my return you will have a thorough understanding of the 2nd degree.” She sighed, imparting a ghost of a smile. “Above all, look out for each other.”

They only nodded. For a time nobody said anything.

“Mrs. Stone, how will you leave Ley?” Bridget asked finally. “All the exits are now blocked, except for Castle Arinthian, and the Legion
might still be there.”

“I will not be returning through the castle. Thomas will be of assistance.”

“Please allow me to get this straight,” Sydo began, taking a juicy bite of a purple peach, seemingly the only one unconcerned she was leaving. “You are departing to ask the Seers if there is
another
way to kill the Lord of the Legion, other than giving up Augum and the scion?”

The group froze as Mrs. Stone surveyed the prince. Augum thought Sydo was in for the tongue-lashing of his life. Instead, all she said was, “A question of that nature, yes.”

“And what if the Seers said there
was
no other way—”

Mya leaned toward the prince. “Your Highness—”

“How many times must I tell you to be quiet! You are nothing but a servant dog in need of a good whip—” Sydo stopped himself, realizing everyone was glaring at him. “Uh … I seem to have once again fallen prey to the Song of the Wastes.”

Just then, Thomas emerged from the trees holding something small in his fist. “Anna. I have it. It is best we depart immediately.”

Mrs. Stone pondered the prince a moment. “Prepare yourselves, for you shall accompany Thomas to the underground city.” Her eyes lingered on him before she left the table.

Bridget gave the prince a look.

Sydo smoothed his hair. “What? It was the song, I say.”

“Excuse me—” and she went to prepare the rucksack.

Leera scoffed and left to help Bridget. Mya stood, curtsied quickly, and went to gather her herb pouch.

Sydo watched them a moment before fixing his gaze on Augum. His lip curled. “If I were you, I would give myself up to my father to save everyone.”

Augum opened his mouth to return a blistering rebuke, but instead found himself just gaping.

“That’s all he wants, isn’t it? You and that stupid scion?” When Augum still did not respond, Sydo shook his head, stood up, and left to join the others, leaving Augum sitting alone, thoughts broiling. The question was inescapable—what if he was meant to find his father and somehow talk him out of the destructive path he was on? Isn’t that what the millennials were getting at with their story? Or something like that? If only there was more time to think things over, to ask more questions … and actually get some answers.

Leera returned. “The brat hasn’t changed one bit, has he?” She gave Augum a playful punch on the shoulder. “Hey, you all right?”

“Yeah … ‘course.”

“Come on then, time to go.”

The group gathered around Thomas while Mrs. Stone stood apart. She took a long moment glancing at each of them in turn.

Bridget suddenly dashed forward and wrapped her arms around her.

“Goodness me—”

Leera soon joined, followed by Augum and Mya.

“Now now, that is quite enough.” Mrs. Stone gently pushed them away. “I will see you in good time.” Reluctantly, they padded back to Thomas. Mrs. Stone took a deep breath before giving her husband a grave look. “Thomas, should the penance come to pass in the old way—”

“—I will do what will have to be done, Anna.” They stared at each other for a moment, eternally young husband and his old wife. Thomas finally opened his palm, revealing an engraved metallic cube. He then began speaking arcane words that repeated and elevated in volume. A strong wind kicked up as a bright light began emanating from the object, so bright they had to shield their eyes with their hands. Suddenly there was an implosive crunch. When things died down, Mrs. Stone was gone.

Augum stared at the vacant spot where his great-grandmother had stood a moment before, wondering if he will ever see her again.

Absalon

“Augum Stone, Mya Liaxh, Sydo Ridian, Leera Jones, Bridget Burns—listen to my voice as you walk with me. Prepare yourselves.” Thomas’ arm flared with fire. He pointed it at the grove, which started sinking back into the ground with a loud grinding noise. The grass disappeared first, forcing them to hold each other for balance, replaced by desert sand and rocks. The table and beds followed, then the braziers, and lastly the great oaks sank as if in quicksand. Without the protection of the trees, the wind was soon upon them, scratching at bare skin. Augum, Bridget and Leera hid in the hoods of their robes, while Sydo and Mya had to make do with holding their arms over their faces.

Thomas immediately started with his sermon that somehow kept the Song of the Wastes at bay. “… knowing that we mean no harm, our spirits calm, the winds of anxiety doing us no injury …” He carried on as they walked, until the sound of the wind changed. Augum peeked out from his hood and spotted a massive boulder, not unlike the size of Hangman’s Rock, directly ahead. Thomas led them right to it before stopping. He placed both hands on its face and the surface instantly disappeared, revealing a staircase descending into darkness.

They piled in after him, the entrance closing after the last person, engulfing them in darkness. Thomas cast a small floating fireball, illuminating a dusty tunnel crudely hewn from solid rock, the steps worn down from use. The wind roared outside the rock, muted and distant. It was as if they were listening to a hurricane, but they were safe in some ancient shelter. Thomas wordlessly began descending, everyone hurrying to catch up.

“Shyneo,” Bridget said, echoed by Augum and Leera. Their palms lit up with their respective glows.

“Shyneo,” the prince said, face contorting in concentration. His hand lit up with a tiny fire. Suddenly Bridget blew it out, giggling.

“What is the meaning of—oh, you jest with me. Most amusing.” He gave a nervous chortle.

“Aww, you didn’t have many friends back in Blackhaven, did you?” Bridget asked, mindful of her steps.

Leera turned to roll her eyes at Augum.

Sydo scoffed. “I had plenty, thank you. Excuse me now … Shyneo!” but his palm failed to light. “I say, turn around and stop staring, this is hard enough as it is. And I shall have you know the court held me in high esteem.”

Augum was baffled. Sydo was being rude to Bridget, had been rude to all of them—and there she was laughing with the brat! He poked Leera and they shared a look that said
could you believe her?

“You
were
the prince,” Bridget said. “What else were they going to do? But I mean, how many close friends did you have?”

“Well, I …” but he fell silent.

“Oh, I am just awful! I apologize, Your Highness, I did not mean to pry. I’m sure you had plenty of close friends—”

Leera put a finger in her mouth and pretended to gag.

Sydo cleared his throat most properly. “Bridget …”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“I find you … acceptable.”

“Um, thank you, Your Highness,” Bridget replied in a halting manner.

Augum had to turn away from the comically horrified look Leera flashed him.

When everyone quieted down and the only sound was the gentle echo of their footsteps, Augum decided to ask a question that had been on his mind for a while now.

“Great-grandfather …”

“Yes, Augum Stone?”

“Can you tell us about the Vow of Isolation?”

“I can. The Vow of Isolation is an ancient promise that took form after the creation of the scions. It was a pledge of abstinence from mortal affairs, put in place so the mortal world would not covet our powers, as had happened with Occulus and many before him. All swear this vow upon becoming Leyan. Since the time of the vow, we have become minders of mortal knowledge, and nothing more.”

“But the vow has not stopped my father from wanting Leyan powers.”

“Most accurate, Augum Stone, and what is a library for if the books cannot be read? This is why I break the vow—I do not believe it wise for Leyans to continue down the same path if the results are no different than before.”

“Sir, how old is Krakatos?” Leera blurted.

“He is … very old, some say eternal.”

Augum couldn’t resist. “So he knew Atrius Arinthian!”

“He did.”

“Great-grandfather … do you think we can speak with him?”

“This I cannot know. Krakatos the Ancient is not one for idle conversation.”

They descended for quite some time, the passage always straight, unchanging. At last, the stairs stopped in a room with a stone arch at the other end. The floor was made up of great slabs, each square as long and wide as a man was tall.

“Welcome to Absalon,” Thomas said.

Mya pointed at the apex of the arch. “M’lord, if I may ask, what is that symbol there?”

Augum had to look closely to make out a circle with a pair of overlapping ovals inside, a dot at the center.

“That is the Helix, the ancient symbol of Ley. It represents the eternal moment within which we dwell.” Thomas let the thought settle before walking on.

The stone slabs sprawled out beyond the arch into darkness. Augum sensed a great space, as if they were in a massive cavern, the ceiling and walls too far to see. The air smelled very old, reminding him of castle Arinthian’s crypt.

“Where are the others?” Leera asked.

Sixty-seven, no less nor more, Augum recalled.

“Some are already here, others have yet to come,” Thomas replied, his floating fire a beacon in a sea of darkness.

They arrived at a very wide set of long and shallow steps, so wide its edges were lost to darkness. The stairs led them to a plateau, where they finally spotted buildings across from each other, forming an alley in between. They were simple ghostly works of functional stone, unadorned and uncolored, two-storied, windowless.

“So this is it?” Leera asked slowly. “
This
is the ancient city of Absalon?”

“It is, Leera Jones.”

“Not what I expected at all. Kind of … drab.”

Augum had to agree with her. He thought it would be much … grander.

“Sir, where are we going?” Sydo asked, his fire sputtering.

“To a home better suited for mortals, Sydo Ridian.”

They soon stopped at a windowless two-story home with a slanted shingled roof. There was a plain wooden door with a bronze doorknob, flanked by a pair of stone pots, ancient remnants of soil still inside.