by Sever Bronny
“Is it really that dangerous to be a warlock in Canterra?” Bridget asked.
“I assure you it is, my dear. My mentor ended up getting betrayed to a gang of witch hunters just after I finished my studies with him, forcing me to flee.” He cleared his throat lightly, quickly adding, “but otherwise it is the finest kingdom in Sithesia. Unlike Tiberra, with its rowdy, disheveled and dirty people.”
“But Tiberra is a very different culture from Canterra, Leopold,” Mr. Goss rebutted. “Tiberrans are naturally loud and messy and colorful, with great big hearts that fill the size of a room.”
“Then perhaps they should use those hearts to hire street cleaners. I find them simply disgusting.” His eyes flicked to Leera, as if she reminded him of those streets. “Young lady, are you sitting on that filthy floor wet as an autumn dog?”
“Fine, I’ll get changed,” Leera said. She snatched her new blue robe before striding to Jengo’s room.
Augum gave her a You got into trouble too expression as she passed, recalling how Leera once tried standing up to Mr. Harvus only to be run over by a barrage of phrases like, “What an absurd and immature thing to say!” and “You will regret speaking to me in such a manner, young lady.” Mr. Harvus then proceeded to have Leera, a nearly fifteen-year-old girl and almost a lady, stand in a corner with soap arcanely stuck in her mouth. The man managed to make even Mrs. Stone look lenient.
“Bridget did very well today,” Harvus went on. “She reduced Jengo to a puddle of confusion and fear in back-to-back castings.” He gazed fondly at Bridget as if she were his very own daughter.
“Jengo did very well too, Mr. Harvus,” Bridget said.
Harvus barely attempted a smile. “I am sure he did.”
The door opened and in walked Kwabe Okeke, Jengo’s father, wearing a gold and scarlet tunic. “Greetings, everyone,” he said with a slight Sierran accent, flashing a tired but genuine smile that disappeared the moment he laid eyes on Mr. Harvus. It was no secret Mr. Okeke did not like Harvus, though he would never outright say so.
“You’re home early, Father,” Jengo said, standing to take his father’s coat, a practice he had begun since his father consented to Jengo marrying Priya.
Mr. Okeke’s thick brows gathered with worry. “I closed the mine early. The news of Dramask hit the men hard.”
“Can we afford that, Father?”
“There are more important things than money, Son. Some of the men have family in Dramask and departed immediately. None of them believed the city would fall.”
“Well you certainly tried warning them, Father. I told them the place would burn to the ground. In fact, I forecasted it three tendays ago.”
“You also said Antioc would get swallowed up by a giant earthquake,” Leera added dryly, returning to the room wearing her new robe, “and that Blackhaven would get annihilated by a comet, and—”
“Yes but this is different—”
“Because you finally guessed right?”
Jengo sighed. “I should see how Haylee, Priya, and her mother are doing. They must be in an awful state at the news.” He put on his boots and coat before leaving.
Bridget pursed her lips at Leera.
Leera shrugged. “I’ll apologize later. Anyway, too bad you’re scared of heights, Bridge, the platform has a heck of a view.”
“I’m sure it’s the view you were looking at the entire time.”
“Oh, I almost forgot, Bridge—” Augum quickly interrupted as Leera turned a bright shade of pink. “Nana has a big quest for us.”
Bridget took a seat at the table. Mr. Goss gently handed her Leland, as he often did, perhaps enjoying seeing him being so loved. She placed him on her lap with a cooing smile. The blind boy had a tight hold on the Agonex, which looked giant in his tiny hands. He constantly held on to it these days, and always seemed to know where it was. Mr. Goss was at first greatly worried about him handling it—until Mrs. Stone had a private word. Leera theorized she was hoping it would unlock some hidden potential in the boy, something Bridget found utterly preposterous, claiming such an ancient artifact needed no end of complex training to use.
Harvus frowned at the Agonex. Augum had overheard the man privately make his opinion clear to Mrs. Stone how inappropriate it was placing an artifact of such import in a “blind and unfortunately daft” boy’s possession, but she had dismissed his worries with a terse but quiet reproval Augum wished he had heard.
Bridget smiled at Leland as he squealed from the bouncing he was receiving on her knee. “A quest?” she asked. “What kind of quest? Must be serious.”
Augum turned over his wet shirt by the fire. “It is, but we can’t go on it until she thinks we know what we’re doing with the 4th degree.”
“Not to mention the Reflect spell,” Leera added with a tired groan.
Mr. Harvus straightened in his chair. “Why have I not been informed of any of this? What sort of quest?”
Augum ignored Harvus, well knowing how much it would infuriate him. “Nana wants the three of us to go to the library of Antioc,” he said to Bridget. “We’re to do it during the warlock tournament there, wearing a necrophyte disguise to blend in.”
“Preposterous—surely that is not what she meant,” Harvus said, looking to Mr. Goss and Mr. Okeke for support, but both were fixated on Augum.
Mr. Okeke rubbed his gray-streaked beard with a veined and bony hand. His dark skin tightened with each tug. “Mrs. Stone has a lot of faith in the three of you.”
Mr. Goss pushed on his spectacles. “Oh my, this quest sounds frightfully dangerous.”
Augum shrugged. “Can’t be more dangerous than Occulus’ castle.”
“Mind your manners when speaking to an elder, Augum Stone,” Harvus said.
“Yes, sir.” Augum could barely conceal the contempt in his voice.
Leland moaned.
“I’m afraid you can’t come along on this one,” Bridget whispered into the boy’s mangled ear, giving him a light cuddle.
“Well I insist on having a word on the matter with Mrs. Stone,” Harvus said, standing. “Hardly a fitting venture for children.”
Augum felt his blood quicken. He hated to be called a child. But he chose to ignore the remark. “Mrs. Stone says she failed to understand the Agonex,” he said. The room stilled. He knew what they were thinking—if the legendary Anna Atticus Stone couldn’t figure out how to use it, what hope had they?
“That’s not all.” Augum turned his wet trousers over on the mantle, keeping his back to them. “Sparkstone found the sixth scion.”
There were audible gasps. He knew this news was almost graver than Dramask falling. Even Harvus took a seat again.
“Oh my.” Mr. Goss absently took Leland from Bridget and began rocking him slowly on his lap. “Oh my …”
Bridget got up to pace, as was her habit. “What will Mrs. Stone do?”
Augum played with the golden rope around his waist. “Don’t know. She seems pretty bent on learning … that spell.” It also infuriated Harvus whenever they referred to Cron, the secret spell no one but the inner circle was to know about. Mr. Okeke, Mr. Goss—even Leland—knew about Annocronomus Tempusari. But not Harvus. Leera was particularly deft at torturing the man with this, sneaking in a reference to Cron whenever she thought she could get away with it. None of this has endeared them to Harvus. And lately, the rift has only been widening.
Bridget kept pacing. “They’re going to throw everything at her now. She can’t run forever. And with her pushing herself so hard lately …”
“That’s why we must succeed,” Augum said. Especially with training, if they were to have any hope of learning Cron later.
Mr. Harvus stood in a huff. “This is unacceptable. Children doing the work of soldiers. Where is the orb? I shall have a word with Mrs. Stone immediately.” Before any of them could answer, Harvus’ eyes found the basket and he strode over, picked up the Orb of Orion, and headed to Mr. Okeke’s room, slamming the door behind him.
Leera acknowledged the point with a nod while sneaking over to the door. “This should be fun,” she whispered.
“Leera Jones, get away from there,” Bridget hissed.
Leera shrugged and stepped away. “Whatever, guess we’ll know soon enough how it went down.”
The door opened again. “Excuse me, how does one work this thing?”
“I’ll help, Mr. Harvus,” Bridget volunteered, and disappeared into the room with him.
Mr. Okeke filled a large copper kettle with water and placed it over the fire. “Mrs. Stone believes this … undead army … powerful enough to stop your father?”
“I guess so, Mr. Okeke,” Augum replied.
“It’s Occulus’ army, Kwabe,” Mr. Goss said, “armed with Dreadnought weapons and armor. From Augum’s earlier descriptions, it sounds like there are thousands of them.”
“Tens of thousands, Mr. Goss,” Leera said. “If not more. Occulus used to teleport them right into the heart of a city, using the Agonex.”
Mr. Goss swallowed. “Perhaps it would be best if we all hid in the country.”
“I will not leave my son, Albert.” Mr. Okeke removed his tunic and folded it onto a chair, straightening his silk shirt. “Jengo would never leave without Priya, and Priya would never leave without her mother.”
“We all know what might happen if my father discovers us here,” Augum said, referring to one of the darkest days in his life, the day his father slaughtered an entire village before his eyes. Leland and Mr. Goss were one of only a handful that had survived that day—and Leland only barely so. His father had murdered Mr. Goss’ wife, Bridget and Leera’s parents, and all their friends and relatives. That infamous day, Augum gained a great-grandmother and a father while his friends lost everyone.
Standing there in the Okeke home staring at the hearth, Augum once again saw the flames of Sparrow’s Perch and Willowbrook leaping tall into the night sky. Then he saw Mya’s throat being cut by his nemesis—a boy his age!—and had to shake the thoughts away. He could not change the past, though his worst nightmare now was the same thing happening to Leera or Bridget.
He glanced at Leera, only to find her gazing at him with—was it fear, bittersweet affection, or both? He broke the gaze, cursing himself for liking her so much, wanting to spend so much time with her. What kind of danger was he putting them all in? His father did not care one spit about anyone here—all he wanted was Augum, and that was only because through Augum, he could get the scion.
And who could save them? When not spending precious few moments with them training, Nana was constantly on the run. Now she was even asking the trio for help with a dangerous quest! And Sparkstone’s armies surely were only increasing in strength. He had to agree with Mr. Goss. If he had it his way, he’d evacuate the entire village of Milham.
Feeling the world closing in on him, Augum had to take a breath.
After a hushed conversation, Bridget and Mr. Harvus emerged from the room, the latter as pale as a sheet.
“It seems there is no changing the great archmage’s mind,” Harvus said, numbly handing the orb over to Bridget. He slumped back into the armchair, hairpiece slightly askew.
“It’s late, I know,” Bridget said, placing the orb into the basket, “but I think we should study a bit. You two up to it?”
“Definitely,” Augum replied.
Leera flashed Augum a mischievous smile. “It was polite of Mrs. Stone to stop practicing the spell to talk to you, Mr. Harvus. Guess we got some work to do now that the quest is on.”
A Foolish Attempt
It was dusk when the trio set out.
“Shall we snag Haylee?” Leera said.
Augum nodded, admiring how far Leera and Haylee had come together since rescuing Haylee from the Legion. They weren’t exactly best friends, but Leera no longer went out of her way to needle Haylee, an accomplishment in itself. Haylee, for her part, had developed a grudging respect for Leera, even occasionally asking for advice on arcane matters.
The Singh home was at the far end of the village, shaded under large pines. It was a two-story affair made of brick and mortar, with ornately carved shutters in the curving Tiberran style.
Bridget was about to knock on the door when they heard shouting from within.
“The one-legged witchling will not pick Panjita’s flower petals while reciting some heathen verse!”
“Mother, stop it!” It was Panjita Singh’s daughter, Priya, and she sounded exasperated. “That’s a flower Chaska gave her. It’s her flower.”
“While things are inside this home, they belong to Panjita. Things will be respected, especially living things. And Priya will not speak to her own mother in such a scandalously callous way. This is Panjita’s home, and if witless bags of earwax cannot fathom such a simple concept, they can find another home to drool in. And how many times must Panjita insist on not hearing that grotesquely inflated savage’s name! They’ll see him from Blackhaven if he gets any larger—”
“He is not a savage!” Haylee cried.
Leera snickered, whispering, “But he is kind of … fat.”
“Leera Jones,” Bridget said.
“That’s two in the space of an hour. Come on, admit it, Bridge, Chaska’s widened a step or two. It’s not like it’s hard to spot.”
“You’re incorrigible, Leera, really.”
“That was pretty mean,” Augum had to add.
Leera crossed her arms. “You two are no fun.”
Augum sighed. Not too long ago, Chaska was beefy strong. Now, he had filled out, even grown a belly. Augum suspected it was a number of factors, not that they were any of his business—Chaska was struggling with the stress of living with his father even though Henawa culture dictated he should be living on his own now that he had completed his nemana, a spiritual quest signifying his ascent to adulthood. It did not help matters that his father did not approve of Haylee in the least, insisting Chaska find a proper Henawa woman.
For Chaska’s part, it also wasn’t easy being in love with someone like Haylee, who tended to go on about buying a giant house with servants, or dressing in fancy clothes, or obsessing about getting revenge on Robin, something she insisted a decent man would do for her. And then there was her leg, which she constantly complained about.
“Not true at all, Ms. Singh!” Haylee went on within the house. “He is a sweet, caring—”
“Maybe we should go,” Bridget said.
Augum rapped at the door loudly. “Nonsense, we need to save her.”
Leera rolled her eyes. “Here it comes.”
“Who is the imbecile knocking at Panjita’s door at this frightfully late hour! It better not be the son of that dastardly devil! WHY IS THAT GANGLY DEMON OF AN UNSUITABLE REACHING FOR THE DOOR AS IF HE OWNED THE PLACE—”
The door yanked open, revealing a flushed Jengo. “Uh, sorry, bit of, well, you know—”
“You two want to come train?” Augum asked as if nothing untoward was going on within. He had grown up with so much chaos at the Penderson farm this drama was minor in comparison.
“I’d love to, but, uh, I’m going to stay inside and try to comfort Ms. Singh. She’s a little upset about Tiberra falling to the Legion.”
“Good luck with that,” Leera muttered.
“I’m game,” Haylee said through gritted teeth, swiftly hobbling by with a cane, already wearing her burgundy apprentice robe. She was used to training late with them and had probably expected their arrival.
“Good luck, you four,” Jengo said, gently closing the door as Ms. Singh began shouting about Jengo trying to engulf her house with his evil “unsuitable” presence.
“You all right?” Bridget asked as they walked.
“Believe her nerve,” Haylee muttered to herself, sweeping aside long l
ocks of blonde hair. “The stuff I have to put up with. And this stupid leg … ugh.” Her round face was chronically pale these days from trying to avoid the sun. Apparently she did not want it ruining her skin.
“Where’s Chaska?” Augum asked.
“Probably getting yelled at by ‘Achishi Zafu’.” The last words—which meant “honored elder” in the Henawa tongue—were said with dripping sarcasm.
“For what this time?”
“Probably the usual. Not that it isn’t all undeserved. He needs to get off his lazy butt and find work. I can’t live with her much longer. I don’t care if he builds us a hut with his bare hands.”
“Sure you do,” Leera chimed in.
“You’re right, I do. Better be a grand hut.”
“Do you think it’s wise to move out so quickly?” Bridget asked delicately.
Haylee stared ahead as she hobbled with determination. “No choice. I’ll kill her otherwise.” She caught Bridget’s mortified look and rolled her eyes. “I was obviously jesting.”
The group strolled to a shallow valley in the woods where Mr. Okeke and Mr. Goss had built them a small plank cabin so the trio could have their own space. They often slept there, exhausted after a long evening’s training session. It was protected by Mrs. Stone’s enchantments, but best of all, was well away from Milham, serving as a nice getaway where they could focus on their training. It sat near a trickling stream surrounded by towering spruces, pines and firs. Patches of snow still sat in spots untouched by the sun’s rays. Birds chirped during the day; at night, owls hooted and wolves howled. Since it was dusk, crickets chirped in symphony.
Mr. Harvus of course disapproved of them staying there alone, but did not dare contravene Mrs. Stone’s wishes. He did however routinely express how he thought she was far too liberal with them. Luckily, Mr. Harvus retired early tonight citing an upset stomach, though Augum thought the real reason was resentment for not being able to convince Mrs. Stone of abandoning the library quest she had in mind for the trio.