by Sever Bronny
Augum felt a cold sweat—Harvus was on to them again. But Jengo surprised him by simply spreading his palms over the stick and saying, “Apreyo,” his pronunciation perfect. The two stick ends joined seamlessly.
Harvus’ thin brows rose up his forehead. “Are you telling me, son, that you have been having trouble with the gesture, yet you know the spell?”
“Well that’s what Augum helped me fine tune, sir,” Jengo quickly replied.
“I see.” Harvus’ eyes flicked between the two of them. He presented a gloved hand. “The book please, Jengo.”
Jengo dutifully handed it over. Harvus immediately began scanning through it, looking for guilt. After a time, his lips thinned and he returned it to Jengo, evidently finding nothing. “You may continue, child. Augum, follow me please.”
Augum thanked Jengo with his eyes before following Harvus to a spot away from everyone, catching a pensive look from the girls as they practiced shooting the First Offensive at a stump.
Harvus turned around. “Are you sorry for the way you acted yesterday?”
“Yes, Mr. Harvus.” Lying with a straight face was hard.
“You are what, Augum?”
“I am sorry for the way I acted yesterday, Mr. Harvus.” Really hard …
“Good, I am very happy to hear it. I trust in the future you will think twice before slandering my good name or cavorting in an unwholesome manner.” He raised his chin, hands behind his back. “You have been making progress, Augum. Now, if you can tell me the name of the 4th degree elemental spell and correctly pronounce its verbiage, you may begin learning it.”
“The name of the spell is Summon Minor Elemental, sir, and …” Augum formed his thoughts together—he had been practicing the pronunciation to himself half the night and morning. The problem was the trigger words were a tongue twister and despite Bridget’s warning, he still kept accidentally switching the n’s with m’s. “And the trigger words are … summano elementus minimus.”
Harvus’ face slackened. Augum knew he had been expecting him to fail that little test. Probably had a fine punishment lined up too. It gave him satisfaction knowing he had foiled the mangy-head’s petty plans.
Harvus’ shoulders drooped. “Good,” he said tonelessly, sighing. “I suppose it is a waste of time training each of you separately. Bridget, Leera—come here please, girls.”
Bridget and Leera walked over, blue robes swinging.
“Everyone here has now earned the right to learn the 4th degree elemental spell.”
When Harvus had his back turned, Augum mouthed “Thank you” to Bridget for helping him with the pronunciation the night before. When Harvus turned to Augum to make some boring point, the girls smiled proudly in response from behind the man’s back.
“… and since everyone’s pronunciation is passable,” Harvus droned on, “let us begin with the gesture, which will be the most complex for you thus far.” Harvus rubbed his white-gloved hands together. “Watch my hands now.” He drew a five-pointed star in midair, his two hands precisely mirroring each other’s movements, coming together at the top. “As you will note, I have just drawn the outline of a small man—”
Augum dared the quickest glance at Leera who, as he suspected, had a mischievous look in her eye. Small man. He wanted to guffaw with her but was careful to keep a straight face, as was she.
“—you start from the abdomen and draw the legs,” Harvus continued, “being careful to keep your hands exactly mirrored. Once you have drawn the outline of the legs, you draw the arms and then the head. It is important to finish speaking the last syllable of the spell the moment your hands touch at the head. As well, your arcane energies must reach an apex at the same time. Understand?”
“Yes, Mr. Harvus,” they chorused languidly.
“Now observe.” Harvus started drawing, beginning the phrase “Summano elementus minimus” halfway through, and finishing the last syllable as his fingers touched at the head of the invisible drawing. An earthen elemental about the size of small child immediately ripped to life, landing on its feet between them and Harvus.
The trio took a couple steps back, wary of the strange creature made of rocks, twigs and earth.
Harvus pointed at Jengo. “Elementus—attack!” and the little monster sprinted at Jengo, who yelped, tossed his book aside and ran for his life.
“Elementus—halt!”
The creature stopped.
“Elementus—here!”
The small earth elemental strode back to them as fluidly as Fentwick, the animated ancient suit of armor from Castle Arinthian.
“The duration of the spell depends on your concentration and typically increases with every degree.” Harvus casually paced around the tiny elemental as Jengo warily made his way back. “The real trick of the spell is doing it precisely in battle. It is difficult as is, but during the heat of combat—well, let me just say that many a warlock has hit their ceiling with this very spell.”
There was a glint to Harvus’ eyes, as if he was betting on just that happening to Augum.
Harvus waved idly and the elemental disappeared with a pop. “Now let us practice the gesture together. If you all do a good job, I may allow you to attend this evening’s feast.”
“But Mr. Harvus,” Leera began, “what about the afternoon’s festivities and games?”
“I do not want to hear any whining, my dear child. We have more important things to do. As I said, if you work hard and focus, I may allow you to attend this evening’s feast.”
The trio couldn’t help but groan.
* * *
They trained and trained, yet the spell truly was difficult. As Harvus had said, it was particularly challenging drawing a precise gesture while timing the words of the spell with the arcane energies. Thus it was no surprise that when noon arrived, none of them had found success, for juggling three very different concepts all at once was simply beyond their current capabilities.
“I am disappointed,” Harvus said as they lay around gasping, exhausted from their efforts. “I do not think you have won the privilege to attend lunch at a festivities table. I shall have Mr. Goss bring some sustenance here. Please sit in silent reflection while I am gone.”
Harvus left them alone, glancing back once from the top of the valley. As soon as he was gone, Jengo hissed to get their attention.
“Harvus hasn’t told you the entirety of the spell. I’ve been reading up on it, suspecting something like that.”
“What? He would do that?” Bridget asked.
Leera sat up to glare at Bridget. “Are you kidding? Where have you been?”
“He’s leaving out the part about visualization,” Jengo continued. “You have to envision the elemental being alive and stuff.”
Leera groaned and fell back to the ground. “Great, the spell’s hard enough.”
“Of course! All we had to do is remember Mrs. Stone’s teachings,” Bridget said. “The spell demands all five precepts of arcane competence—visualization, pronunciation, arcane manipulation, gestural precision, and timing.”
Leera, splayed like a defeated warrior on the grass, stared skyward. “Well I wish she was teaching us the spell instead of Harvus.”
“This spell is complex,” Bridget admitted, “and I suspect it would usually take at least a month to learn at an academy—”
“But … we can learn it quickly, right?” Leera interrupted.
“There is no ‘but’. We train with it all day, every day, until we get it. At the academy, we have other classes. At the academy a day ends in the afternoon. But here, we can focus.”
“It’s going to take a lot of practice obviously,” Augum said, “but we can do it, I know we can. Oh and by the way, Jengo discovered something. Jengo, can you flip to that page again?”
Jengo gave a furtive glance over his shoulder. “All right, but make it quick, I don’t want to get in trouble.”
The trio hurried over, Augum and Leera careful not to touch each other accidentally lest they receive some
kind of shock.
“The counterspell to Object Alarm,” Bridget mumbled. “Can’t believe I haven’t thought of that before …”
“I’m not allowed to touch the book,” Augum said, “but you are. Think you can learn the counterspell and teach it to me and Leera?”
“I’ll try.” Bridget looked to the forest. “We better break this up.”
They scurried back to their places and lay down.
Mr. Harvus soon returned with Mr. Goss, who was holding a basket. Mr. Goss placed the basket before them and adjusted his spectacles. “I am sorry you are unable to join Leland and I for lunch, but I am sure we shall see you at tonight’s feast. Good luck everyone! Work hard!”
They ate quietly, Augum and Jengo together, Bridget and Leera separately, and Mr. Harvus inside the cabin, swatting at flies.
“Look at him,” Jengo said under his breath, “it’s like he exists just to cause us misery.”
“I don’t want to look at him,” Augum said. “Might not be able to finish my lunch.” Mentor or no mentor, Harvus had a particularly punchable face, and Augum was not ashamed to think it.
Jengo smiled. “Where do you think he hid the Agonex and the Orb of Orion?”
“If we’re lucky, in his room at the inn. If we’re unlucky, well … I should’ve cast Object Track on both when I had the chance.”
“Spell would have expired anyway—you’re not practiced enough yet.”
Augum ceded a grunt and took a bite of the sandwich Mr. Goss had provided. “You’re really taking arcanery seriously, aren’t you?” It was interesting to watch. He wished he took as much pleasure studying the yellow and blue books as Jengo did.
“I dream of it, Augum. All the complexities, the nuances. I dream of performing them precisely and successfully. But the healing element is hard. I have to memorize all these internal body functions and stuff, not to mention weird names. Tibia. Femur. Those are names of bones!”
“Huh.”
“It’s ridiculous. Though lightning is more dangerous, Bridget told me healing is three times harder to master than any of the other elements. And I love that book. I’d spend all my time reading it if I could. Can’t actually put any of it into practice yet, but I’ll get there.”
“You’d make a great arcaneologist.”
“You really think so?” Jengo brightened before suddenly lowering his head as Harvus peeked out of the cabin suspiciously. When he disappeared, Jengo, while pretending to fiddle with his burgundy robe, whispered, “By the way, I know you didn’t get that far, but the counterspell verbiage to Object Alarm is just the reverse.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you literally say the words to Object Alarm backwards, inflection and all, every letter.”
“Are you jesting? How am I—”
But Jengo shushed him as Harvus’ face once again popped out from the cabin.
“No talking!” he snapped.
They finished in silence, Augum’s mind racing for a way to learn the verbiage backwards. His brain couldn’t do it though. Then it came to him rather suddenly—all he had to do was write the words out backwards and read them. The inflection was the tricky part though, and without someone trained telling him how to say it, he didn’t even know where to start. Luckily, that was exactly the kind of thing Bridget was good at.
The afternoon was even more grueling, with Harvus demanding they cast all the 4th degree spells, even though the trio wanted to focus on the Summon Minor Elemental spell. He made Bridget and Leera square off, casting Confusion, Deafness, and Fear on each other, while Augum was made to cast the same spells on Jengo, who proved a most susceptible opponent. Augum felt so sorry for him constantly stumbling about blubbering like a fool, that he purposefully bungled the spell when Harvus wasn’t looking.
Yet the more success they saw with the spells, the stricter Harvus became, until his twitch returned. What he failed to realize, Augum thought in satisfaction, was that he was their primary motivation to learn—they would succeed out of spite.
“Unacceptable, you sun baked beanpole!” Harvus sniped when the boy had failed to locate a stone Harvus hid halfway up a tree. “You must concentrate!”
Bridget had gasped and was about to say something but held herself in check at the last moment, probably remembering one of them should stay on the demented mentor’s good side.
Jengo meekly stared at his feet.
“Jengo?” came a soft voice from the trees.
Jengo glanced between Harvus and the forest. “Priya! Ms. Singh! You should not be here, we are training—”
Priya, a thin, sienna-skinned woman with very long black hair, gracefully helped an old woman down the slope, who Augum recognized as Ms. Singh, Priya’s temperamental and quirky mother. The old woman had gray hair wrapped in a tight bun and was hunched over a cane. Large clunky spectacles dangled off her nose. Both women wore ornate coral cloth wrapped around their waists and draped over their shoulders.
As the women shuffled forward, Harvus straightened.
“Jengo, why have you not come to the festivities?” Priya asked in hurt tones. “I have been waiting and waiting.” Jeweled studs piercing her lips and nose caught glints from the sun.
Jengo cast a sidelong glance at Harvus. “Priya, my love, please—we have been training.”
Harvus cleared his throat in a perfunctory manner. “It is rude not to introduce people, Jengo.”
But Augum swore Harvus knew exactly who they were, as he had undoubtedly seen them in the village, not to mention heard talk of them numerous times.
Ms. Singh swung her cane Harvus’ way. “Panjita certainly agrees with the pasty toad.”
“Mother that is very rude—” Priya quickly turned to Mr. Harvus. “Do please forgive us, Mr.—?”
“—Harvus,” the man said as his twitch renewed. “Mr. Harvus.” He was glaring at Ms. Singh.
“Mr. Harvus, I am sorry, Mother has a way of—”
Ms. Singh smacked Priya’s hand. “Daughter will not condescend Mother!” She turned her unruly gaze back to Harvus, who actually matched her height. “Is the pasty marmot from Canterra? Is that why he holds himself in such stiff bearing, as if a stick were jammed—”
“Mother, please!”
Jengo quickly cut in. “Mr. Harvus, this is my betrothed, Priya Singh, and her mother, Ms. Singh. And this is my—our—mentor, Mr. Harvus.”
Ms. Singh turned to Jengo. “Will the tall brute who has stolen Panjita’s daughter please explain why there is a dead animal on the pasty marmot’s head?”
Harvus turned a dull shade of pink. A second twitch joined the first, the two firing off at different times and from opposite sides of his pudgy face.
“Uh, we really ought to get back to training, Ms. Singh,” Jengo stammered, wringing his hands.
Ms. Singh glared at him. “As is right! Lazy dogs need to learn how to work hard! That is how Panjita has earned her way through life—with hard work! Now Panjita must put up with all these asinine Solian customs, and out of courtesy she is forced to escort her silly daughter every—”
“We’ll be going now,” Priya said, smiling lovingly at Jengo. “It is Lover’s Day though, my love. I guess I’ll see you at the feast? There is a dance after, and music.”
“Y-yes, sure.” Jengo did not dare to look at Harvus, who Augum suspected was concocting other plans for Jengo, if not for all of them.
They watched the two women amble back up the shallow valley. Augum chanced a glance at Leera, who was staring at him, expression full of sorrow. How he longed to hold her then. Above all, how he longed for them to be rid of this cursed man.
Plans
After the Singhs left, Harvus snarled terse commands for Augum, Bridget, Leera and Jengo to sit apart in silent study, though what they were supposed to study was not clear as Harvus had forbidden them access to study material. Meanwhile, the man patrolled in a slow circle, muttering under his breath. The facial twitches worsened, with one of his eyes joining
in now and then.
He’s coming undone at the seams, Augum thought, watching the man snap at Jengo as he passed. Jengo immediately sat up straighter, back against the tree he had been assigned to—as they all had, in opposite corners of the small clearing. They were not to look at each other or communicate in any way. The whole encounter with Ms. Singh must have really set him off, though to be fair, she did have that effect on people.
Augum glanced at the clear sky, wondering how much of the feast they were going to miss. Probably the whole thing, he surmised, tearing a blade of grass and placing it in his mouth.
“Take that out of your mouth,” Harvus barked when he strolled by. “You are not a cow.”
Augum spat the grass out with a scowl.
Harvus stopped walking. “Correct your attitude, Augum, lest you find yourself without a mentor of any kind, trading stolen goods with bandits to get by.”
Augum made his face blank but Harvus still stood there. What an odd thing to say. Then he recalled that golden flatware of his and how the initials did not match up to his name. Was it possible Harvus had stolen the items? No, couldn’t be …
Harvus stared at him with his nasty little eyes. “You know, the more I look at you, the more I am convinced of your inevitable failure. You are a useless child with a banal talent. Maybe you should think about joining one of those bandit camps as an outlaw, the gods know you would certainly fit right in.”
It took a lot of self-discipline for Augum to keep his face blank. It paid off though, for Harvus smacked his lips together before finally strolling away.
Augum leaned back against the tree. It was like being imprisoned all over again. He worried about Nana. She usually contacted them at least once a day to check in. Though without access to the Orb of Orion, there was no way for him to know if she had been trying to contact them.
The fact Harvus had claimed the Agonex and the orb made Augum’s shoulders tense up. After catching a glimpse of Bridget, with her legs pulled in and head resting on her knees, he realized he was wasting time. He decided to mentally rehearse all his spells, especially the newer ones from the 4th degree. When Harvus was not looking, he even moved objects with Telekinesis, summoned his shield, or quietly repaired a stick. Before long, the others were doing it too, but always behind Harvus’ back, playing a daring game of cat and mouse.