Honor's Price

by Sever Bronny

  Bridget and Augum flashed Leera a look, but she was unmoved, knowing Jengo wouldn’t believe her. And sure enough …

  “No, seriously, what happened? Isaac said Darby took you three away. We all feared the worst, but then I heard they caught the three—” He threw up air quotes with his fingers. “—drunks. Their story supposedly checks out too, because they got let go to sleep it off.”

  “That doesn’t matter because we found out what they’re looking for. It’s an artifact called the Heart of the Colossus.”

  “Never heard of it. How do you know that’s what they’re looking for?”

  “King Samuel told us.”

  “You’re such a jester.”

  Leera gave Augum and Bridget a deadpan look that said, See, no one will believe us.

  Bridget sighed. “Nonetheless, would you two mind looking into it? See if you can dig up anything on this Heart of the Colossus?”

  Jengo jotted down a note. “Heart of the Colossus, got it. Hey,” he said to Haylee, “didn’t you say you found something colossus-themed?”

  Haylee looked up from her scribbling. “I did.” She beckoned and an old tome slid before the trio. The book was open to a silk bookmark.

  “What are we looking at?” Bridget asked, shoving aside her tray and frowning at the book.

  “I was going to show you this anyway, but now I think it’s particularly pertinent.” Haylee reached over and tapped a paragraph with the end of her quill. “It’s this part here.”

  Bridget read the portion to herself. “This is out of context. I don’t understand it.”

  “I know.” Haylee flicked a finger and another open book slid before Bridget. She tapped another paragraph, which Bridget dutifully read.

  “They say opposite things,” Bridget said.

  “Now check what books they are.”

  Bridget checked the covers on both. One was titled A Comprehensive Historical Account of Ancient Times, the other The Definitive Recorded History of the Kingdoms Pre Founding.

  “They’re titled differently.”

  “Right, sorry. I meant for you to look inside.”

  Bridget flipped open the covers and looked between them. “One’s a Solian history book and the other is Canterran.”

  “Exactly. Now look at the difference between the two passages I pointed out. Guess which one’s Canterran?”

  Leera prodded Bridget’s arm with her fork. “Hi. Your friend Leera here. Think you can fill the rest of us in? Bridgey? Hey, hello—?”

  But Bridget raised a finger as she read each passage again in detail.

  Leera, mouth full of mash, gave Augum a sardonic look. “She’s frowning in concentration. It must be good.”

  Augum plucked at his food while keeping an eye on Bridget. At last, she looked up. Augum and Leera stopped eating.

  “Well?” Leera said. “What’s the story, bookworm? Better be good news for a change.”

  “Remember learning in History class about the Rivican siege engines?”

  “Ugh, how could I forget. Soooo booooring.” Leera pointed at a boiled carrot and telekinetically sent it hurtling at her fork, skewering it in the air. “Gotcha. Wait, I did forget, because it was that boring. Who cares about a bunch of siege engines that were destroyed, what, four, five thousand years ago? That was, like, cavemen times.” She shrugged. “Well, not literally, but you know what I mean.”

  Bridget shoved Leera’s tray aside.

  “Hey, I was eating that—”

  And replaced it with the Canterran tome, tapping at a specific paragraph.

  Leera blew strands of hair from her face in annoyance and read it aloud, fork and carrot waving about with each word. “ ‘Sometime around six hundred P.F.—’ ” She looked up. “That means Pre Founding, right?”

  Bridget nodded in exasperation and Leera returned to the text.

  “ ‘—a Rivican Lord of Dreadnoughts combined the alchemical and arcane knowledge of the Rivicans with the arcane blacksmithing knowledge of the Dreadnoughts, creating three great siege engines. The Rivicans used those engines to wreak havoc upon the kingdoms, for they believed they possessed the divine right to rule all lands and all peoples.’ ” Leera looked up again. “We know all this.”

  “Keep reading, will you?”

  “All right already, yeesh. ‘For thousands of years, scholars and arcaneologists of all kingdoms surmised that these engines were destroyed prior to the extinction of the Rivicans. But Canterran historians believe there is evidence that one siege engine survived.’ ” Leera looked up in alarm.

  “Now you get it?” Bridget said. “That’s the Canterran version you just read. The Solian version declares them all destroyed.”

  “So not only are they looking for the surviving siege engine, but they’re also searching for its heart to make it work again. I mean, that’s what the Heart of the Colossus obviously refers to, right?” Leera flipped her fork onto her tray. “Yeah, we’re doomed.”

  “You three are a morose bunch,” Jengo muttered whilst riffling through three old books at once. “This is all speculation at this point. Unfounded fragments of history. And Heart of the Colossus could mean anything. It could be metaphorical, for all we know.”

  As Jengo and Haylee got back to work, the trio sat in sullen silence, processing what they had heard.

  “The Archives scroll—” Augum blurted. “Please tell me you made headway, Bridge.”

  “Oh, right. Well, the problem is my memory got foggy at the end there. I can’t really make sense of the scroll I picked out. Whatever connection I made is kind of … beyond the horizon, so to speak. I pushed myself at the cost of my memory.”

  “And health,” Leera muttered.

  Augum blinked. “Can you rephrase that to say something like, ‘I know exactly what we have to do with it’? Lie to me, Bridge, for the love of the gods, just throw us a bone.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, we studied that scroll thoroughly in both morning classes, but it really does look like nothing more than a song and dance number. Maybe with time something will lodge loose from my memory. Oh, but there is one thing—and I can’t explain why I know, I just do—but the course is most definitely possible. We can take it. We just … need to figure out how to trigger it.”

  “Great!” Augum elbowed Leera, smiling falsely. “She almost died for a song and dance. Hey, but the course is most definitely possible.”

  Bridget looked like she wanted to say something else, something more consoling, but hung her head. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  Leera elbowed him back. “Don’t be a sarcastic jerk, Aug. That’s my field of expertise.”

  Augum rubbed his forehead. “You’re right. I apologize, Bridge. I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” but she remained glum. He perked up and forced cheer into his voice. “Oh, hey, bit of good news, you two,” he said to Jengo and Haylee. “No more of those pointless afternoon sermons.”

  Haylee stopped writing. “Thank the Unnameables for that. Such a waste of time. Maybe I can even squeeze in getting my hair done before you lot surprise me with the par-tay of my life, am I right or am I right?”

  “Sure,” Augum mumbled as he pointed at Bridget’s tray, which sat off to the side, and telekinetically nudged it in front of her. Anything to distract her from thinking about that unfathomably vast number.

  She sat in total thought, unaware of the tray. Augum telekinetically flicked her ear. She looked up with tired, hopeless eyes. “Eat,” he said. When she didn’t move, he mimed eating with his fork. “Eat. Nom, nom. Food good. Mmm.” He elicited a primitive grunt. She snorted a weak laugh, plopped her head onto a resting hand, and returned to dully picking away at her meal.

  Augum elbowed Leera. “You too,” and slid her tray before her. Leera, whose thoughts had also wandered, crinkled her nose in disgust but resumed tormenting her food with her fork.

  “Hey, birthday girl,” Augum prodded, resuming eating as well. “What are you two research
ing, anyway?”

  “Poring over the tomes Isaac, Laud and Caireen dug up for us,” Haylee said, eyes never leaving the parchment. “Everything Rivican we can find, we’re absorbing. They’re in the library digging for more. We were here waiting for you. And I sincerely hope you all are readying a killer party for me tonight because I plan to get completely cross-eyed.”

  A figure appeared behind them. “Happy sixteenth, Haylee.” Everyone looked up. It was Brandon. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Bridget.”

  “No,” Bridget said. “No, you do not get to apologize.” She returned to eating, determined to stab her sausage into oblivion.

  “I know.” He lingered awkwardly before blurting, “The Canterrans are sleeping in the catacombs. Behind an arcane barrier near the primary entrance. Might be more to it, but I’m not allowed down there.” When Bridget did not respond, he added in a whisper, “And they’re searching for an artifact, something called the Heart of the Colossus. No idea what it is.”

  Bridget remained fixated on her unfortunate sausage. Brandon lingered a moment longer before departing with a crimson face.

  “Bridge?” Leera said gently.

  “What? What do you want?”

  “Pretty sure it’s dead already.” Leera nodded at the massacred sausage.

  Bridget ceased the slaughter. “Oh. Right.”

  The trio finished the meal in silence, not broaching the Brandon subject or telling the others how much danger the kingdom was truly in.

  * * *

  The trio walked into 7th degree Sword and Sorcery, located in the Hall of Evernight in the Elements Wing, feeling morose. Their spirits were only buoyed by the sight of The Grizzly, standing with his arms crossed, watching his students file in. Everyone was back in class. Those few who had been snatched on the first day looked tired and traumatized but otherwise alive. There was only one notable absence, that of Eric Southguard. And it seemed as if the students collectively realized he was never coming back, for a pall descended upon them like a black veil; eyes fell to the floor and idle chatter ceased.

  Four high-degree overseers watched The Grizzly. Path Disciple Jessop was also there, pointy chin protruding menacingly. The man was an Ordinary, yet carried the clout of self-righteousness. Katrina’s notorious Black Eagle bodyguard, Ethios Kamagant, stood by the door, arms folded as if mocking the former Lord High Commander.

  Augum badly wanted to talk to The Grizzly, but found no opportunity to do so. Instead, he watched for any secret signs or hints or messages that The Grizzly perhaps wanted to pass on. The man was stoic, launching straight into a practical lesson with the usual, “Eyes on me, everyone.” Instead of making them line up, as was his habit when he had been the Lord High Commander, he simply said, “Cycles!”

  The class broke out in smiles, not because people particularly enjoyed casting every spell from every degree, one at a time, back-to-back, but because it was something to do.

  The Grizzly twirled a thick finger. “Circle up.”

  The class dutifully obeyed, long used to him barking commands at them. They dumped their satchels against the walls and formed a great circle in the center of the large room. An eternal ceiling yawned high overhead, giving the impression they were outside under a field of stars. The walls were a moving painting that depicted a nighttime windy meadow in the middle of summer. At the base of those walls sat a wide assortment of battered wooden practice shields, swords, spears, armors, stuffed pads and mats, and other training equipment.

  The Grizzly strode to the center of the circle of twenty-one students and turned in place, gazing at each person, subtly nodding with pride. It seemed he had tired of his previous sullenness. He concluded his inspection of the circle after seeing a sour-faced Katrina, a bored Carp, a restless Elizabeth, and a downcast Brandon. The four overseers had tensed during the formation and stood by the door in attack formation, while The Path Disciple had his hand on the doorknob, holding his breath, eyes squirrel-wide. Only Ethios Kamagant stood at ease, watching The Grizzly with detached interest.

  Fools think we’re going to attack them, Augum thought amusedly.

  The Grizzly raised a hand and made a dividing gesture between Katrina and Elizabeth. “Make a space,” he said. Katrina’s eyes narrowed with anger as her side shuffled one way, and Elizabeth’s the other, making a space between them. The Grizzly stared at the empty space, as did everyone else. The silence grew, for that empty space represented the loss of a thoughtful yet persecuted young man. And as that silence deepened, tears rolled down cheeks. Carp, dressed in his white robe, smirked. Katrina merely rolled her eyes, while Elizabeth at least had the decency to drop her head.

  “Carp, lower your head in respect,” Elizabeth whispered.

  “Don’t tell him what to do,” Katrina hissed, and Elizabeth’s cheeks reddened as Carp sneered victoriously.

  Nonetheless, they all stood in silent reflection. Augum paid Eric the respect of remembering him in his brightest moments, when the budding commander had succeeded with a spell in class, brought something thoughtful to the table in a discussion, or especially, when he spoke honestly to the trio after they had become allies. He had imagined Eric becoming their friend, and mourned the loss of possibilities, as well as his life.

  “Flash ’em,” The Grizzly said at last, breaking the sorrow.

  Seven bands exploded around each arm, representing all the elements—earth, fire, lightning, ice, water, air, and healing, with the latter excusing themselves from offensive castings, focusing instead on support and defense spells. Eighteen vibrant leafy rings hovered over The Grizzly’s black sleeve. He bowed, and the students bowed back. When Carp tried to shove Elizabeth over to close the empty space, The Grizzly whirled on him with such a dark look that Carp veered the other way, tripping over his own feet. Satisfied, The Grizzly flicked a finger at a wall. A huge spear twice the height of a man launched into the air, landing before him on its end, where it floated. “Equip,” he said. Simultaneously, every student snatched a weapon or piece of armor or some other piece of equipment and floated it before them. From there, the commands came quickly.

  “Telek. Flip.” Every item rotated once, stopping precisely in place. “Flip.” The items rotated the other way. “Quad.” There was a collective whoosh as items spun rapidly four times in one direction. “Precision, Martel,” The Grizzly warned Mary, whose prim cheeks reddened at being called out for her sloppiness. “Quad.” The objects spun the other way. “Ten.” Items launched ten feet up. “And hold.” A moment later, “Twenty.” The items launched to twenty feet. “And hold.” The Grizzly maintained his spear at height while glancing around the room. Every student had to keep an eye on their item, everyone, that was, except for Augum, who had long trained himself to keep his satchel floating in place while he focused on other things.

  The Grizzly took note of Augum watching him with the slightest nod. “Forty.” Students groaned as this was the limit of telekinetic reach for those attempting an 8th degree lift. For the trio, who had honed their Telekinesis in war, it was no trouble. “Sixty.” Students ducked and dodged as objects fell left and right, leaving only the most proficient, which included the trio, Katrina, and Caireen. “You could have pushed it, Cooper.”

  Laudine nodded. “Yes, Lord High—er, Arcanist Brewerson.”

  The Grizzly, surely knowing they could go on, instead said, “Return and drop.” The objects returned to the ground at their owner’s feet. “Break.” People broke and snapped off pieces of their equipment. “Repair.” Incantations of “apreyo” sounded.

  And so it went, spell after spell, degree after degree. They used each other for offensive castings, summoning their shields defensively, or used their Mind Armor for mind spells. An hour later, they had completed two full cycles of thirty-two spells each, which was eight elemental spells and twenty-four standard spells, leaving extensions out. By the end, everyone but the trio, who regularly trained like this with Jez, were exhausted, hands on their knees, panting. And that�
�s when The Grizzly pushed them.

  “Duels.”

  Muffled groans rang out.

  “Don’t even think it, people!” barked The Grizzly. “If I hear a single note of complaint again, from anyone venturing to be lazy, you can get the hell out of my class. I want focus! Get me?”

  “Yes, Arcanist Brewerson!” the class shouted, though there was more than one “Lord High Commander” uttered and quickly corrected.

  “Mats.” Everyone snagged a straw-filled burlap mat from a pile and telekinetically floated it to an empty spot—no one dared drag it, lest they got called out for being lazy. In The Grizzly’s Sword and Sorcery class, one used arcanery even when one didn’t have to.

  The Grizzly then paired people off, ending with, “… and Cooper, you’re with Lavo.” People glanced around to look at the pairs. There was one notable exception, for there were twenty-one students in the class. And sure enough, Katrina had been left without a partner. She stood with folded arms, lower lip protruding petulantly, tiara glimmering.

  “Take the dummy, Von Edgeworth,” The Grizzly said coldly, interestingly choosing to use her paternal family name.

  Katrina flashed him a hateful look before telekinetically snatching a dummy from a wall and dumping it before her. It seemed even she had limits, for despite having a slew of overseers and an infamous Black Eagle watching her back, she did not dare give The Grizzly lip.

  Augum and Leera, who had been paired together, gave each other a knowing look. Katrina was humiliated, but it was the least the traitor deserved. Heck, Augum was surprised Her Highness bothered to come to class at all.

  “It’s a big space, people. Spread out and make use of it.” After they did so, The Grizzly went to a chalkboard with a predefined chart and said, “Practice tournament rules apply. Flash ’em and bow.” He telekinetically used chalk to write everyone’s name, stopping to look back at the tense students who stood gawking at him. “Well, what the hell are you waiting for—fight!”