by Sever Bronny
Augum felt his ears grow hot. Malaika had visited the trio with her father after their ordeal in Bahbell. She had this odd way of making him feel uncomfortable. “Malaika danced with me at the Star Feast,” he blurted to Leera.
Leera gave him an odd look. “Uh, I know.” She slipped her hand under his elbow. “He’s an awful dancer, isn’t he?”
Malaika giggled, eyes solely on him. “He is, yes, but I very much enjoyed teaching him.”
“That’s my job now.” Leera looked around at the exquisitely carved doors, the octagon-patterned inlay work on almost every wooden surface, and at the fine tapestries hanging on the walls. “Place is a palace,” she mumbled.
“It is true that Father has done well as a merchant, but his generosity has cost the estate a great deal. I fear him giving too much to charity while keeping little for his family.”
Augum and Leera opened their mouths to speak when a pale man with pinkish eyes and wearing a black servant gown appeared. “Please follow me, everyone,” he said stiffly, leading them into the parlor. He was middle-aged, with milk-white hair and a bearing that had him carry his hawkish nose high.
“She has no idea how much people are suffering in the countryside,” Leera whispered to Augum, watching Malaika rush to speak with an auburn-haired girl. “We’re all lucky not to be starving right now.”
Augum caught Malaika and her friend watching him as they whispered to each other behind their hands. They immediately giggled, shoulders hunkering, but resumed whispering and exchanging wide-eyed and mischievous glances.
Leera’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.
Haylee had a distant look on her face. “I lived in a place like this once …” She kept straightening her already rigid-straight blonde hair with her free hand. “I wish I was dressed for the occasion.”
Chaska was glancing around with a sneer. “Looks like a bunch of flashy junk to me. Nothing useful for a warrior.”
Haylee, using her cane as leverage, slowly turned to give him a scathing look that took in his new girth. “Warrior, huh?”
Chaska reddened and glanced down at his belly.
“Hey,” Bridget said to Haylee and Chaska, glancing softly between the two of them. “Be kinder to each other, you two.” The sorrow of what the trio had seen showed on her gaunt face, in the dark circles under her eyes, in the tightness of her pressed lips. Haylee and Chaska must have noticed because they dropped their heads, cheeks reddening from … was it shame, perhaps?
Suddenly there was a commotion at the entrance. Augum turned to see a cane fly at Briggs’ head. The man caught it deftly, receiving a stubby kick to his armored shin instead.
“Unacceptable!” cried a voice. “Panjita will not be denied her right of entry as an elder of this village! The tall carrot-head shall stand aside, as will his banana-headed companion!”
“Mother, no—!” Priya said, running to the hall.
“Father, do something, it’s that ghastly woman again!” Malaika called.
Mr. Haroun sighed before striding to the entrance, watched by a gaggle of snickering and gossiping faces.
“I am afraid Ms. Singh and Mr. Haroun have never quite seen eye to eye,” Mr. Okeke explained to Mr. Goss. “Or rather Ms. Singh has not quite approved of Mr. Haroun’s leadership. The last time Ms. Singh was allowed into his home, she denounced Mr. Haroun as a devil-worshipping ingrate who did not know his bottom from his ankle.”
“Dear me,” Mr. Goss only said.
“Though you can imagine her wording to have been a touch more … creative.”
This came as no surprise to Augum. There was not a soul in all of Sithesia Ms. Singh seemed to approve of.
“The so-called ‘town elder’ believes himself superior to Panjita!” Ms. Singh spat after finally being allowed entry. “Perhaps Old Haroun might stoop himself to recall that Panjita is a valuable and necessary part of the elder council of Milham.”
“Please forgive me, Ms. Singh,” Mr. Haroun said in a voice straining for patience. “Follow me.”
“Oh, so Haughty Haroun now thinks of Panjita as a follower, does he? Why is Panjita not surprised in the least?”
“Mother, behave yourself—” Priya hissed, leading a grumbling Ms. Singh to the parlor, where the elder Singh proceeded to give the servant a whack on the shins for not immediately offering her a glass of wine. Jengo could only sheepishly watch as his betrothed tried to exasperatedly manage the situation.
“… and the milky vermin will bring red wine, not wash water!”
“Ugh, why does she always have to come to our meetings?” Malaika loudly said to her auburn-haired friend, just as Priya drew near. “She’s hardly fit to serve and should retire from the council.”
Priya pretended to fiddle with her chartreuse shawl, though her cheeks reddened considerably.
“Try living with her,” Haylee muttered.
Soon a servant boy and girl of about the trio’s age or a bit younger appeared with trays of wine, both just as pale as the older servant and with the same milk-white hair. Their pinkish eyes would frequently land on the trio, though both looked away when caught. Augum wondered if they were related to Henawa.
“My lady,” said the servant boy, appearing near Leera. “Would you care for a sweet?”
“Now you’re talking.” Leera snagged three sugared biscuits.
“Lee, don’t be rude,” Bridget whispered.
“Nonsense, we’re the guests.”
“I don’t think—”
Leera frowned. “Let me ask then. Excuse me, uh—”
“—Gabe,” the boy said with a hint of a smile. He had the same high cheekbones and hawk nose as the middle-aged servant.
“Right, Gabe, uh, all right if I have a bunch of these?”
“My lady may have as many as she pleases, for she is prettier than—” Suddenly his eyes grew wide as he spotted someone behind them.
Augum turned to find the older servant glaring at the boy.
“My apologies, my lady,” Gabe quickly said, shuffling off.
“Please excuse my wayward son,” the elder servant said. “He is still an apprentice to service. There is much he has yet to understand.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” Leera said, mouth full with a biscuit. She turned to Augum after the man left. “I feel bad for getting him into trouble.”
“He likes you,” Augum said, feeling an unfamiliar prickle in his chest.
Leera waved the matter aside dismissively, readying to stuff another treat in her mouth.
Haylee watched the boy and girl work the room with quiet, nostalgic fascination.
“Strange to see servants in times like these,” Bridget said. “I wonder if they had aspirations beyond the service life.”
“They are lucky to have steady employment,” said a cool voice nearby. The trio turned to see an ebony-skinned woman wearing a maroon dress with a square-cut neckline. A brilliant ruby hung around her neck, catching the candlelight.
Malaika drifted to the woman’s side, taking her bejeweled hand in both her own. “Mother, this is Augum Stone, the hero I was telling you about.”
Mrs. Haroun extended a hand palm down. “Charmed.”
Augum shook it awkwardly.
One of Mrs. Haroun’s brows travelled far up her forehead and Augum already knew he had broken protocol—he was supposed to have kissed her hand or something.
“These are my friends,” he quickly said. “Bridget Burns and Leera Jones.”
“Indeed.” Mrs. Haroun swept the girls up and down with her eyes. Bridget and Leera curtsied, though the latter barely so.
Malaika flashed Augum a fawning smile. “Augum is famous, Mother. His poster is everywhere.”
“Uh, well, I’m not the only one on it,” he said, searching his mind for an excuse to get out of there.
Mrs. Haroun’s jowls hardened. “For all the wrong reasons, Daughter. His father is a prolific murderer, a monster of the first order.”
“But Augum is nothin
g like his father. He comes from good breeding. And besides, his great-grandmother is Anna Atticus Stone.”
Augum felt Leera tense up beside him.
“Indeed,” Mrs. Haroun said.
“I have found breeding isn’t everything,” Haylee said. Chaska was beside her, absently eating a cake portion he had pilfered off a silver tray.
Malaika’s eyes slowly travelled to Haylee, then to her cane. “And who might you be again?”
“Haylee Esmeralda-Ray Tennyson, of House Tennyson, the Rose Quarter, Blackhaven.”
“Ah. Well, I am sorry, but breeding is everything. Always was, always will be.” Malaika took a moment to inspect Chaska. “And he’s with you?”
Haylee hesitated, but then she straightened. “He is.”
“We’ve met plenty of times, remember?” Chaska said between mouthfuls. “Big place. Could house ten families.”
Mrs. Haroun was glaring at Chaska’s filthy hands. “Not as big as some of the people in here, it seems.”
Haylee reddened, opened her mouth to speak, when Malaika’s auburn haired friend appeared by her side.
“Malaika, you simply must introduce me,” she gushed. Her sapphire necklace matched her embroidered blue dress, and she had very fair skin.
Malaika hooked her friend’s elbow with a devilish smile. “Augum Stone, meet my very best friend, Charissa Graves. Charissa, this is the Augum Stone.”
Charissa extended a pale hand in the same manner as Mrs. Haroun. “Charmed.” She had a round simple face and wide-set eyes.
Augum took her hand and awkwardly gave it a tap with his lips. He turned to present Bridget and Leera. “And these are my—”
“—he really is a warlock,” Charissa said to Malaika. “And he’s so …” She gave her a meaningful look.
“I know, right?” Malaika replied with a mischievous smile, before growing serious. “Now settle down, we don’t want to appear rude before such distinguished company.” Her eyes flicked to Chaska. “Well, mostly.”
Bridget was staring at Malaika, Charissa and Mrs. Haroun with a mixture of horror and shock, but she said nothing.
Charissa gave Malaika’s elbow a tug. “Are you going to have him recount some heroic tales? Bet you he gets into all sorts of trouble.”
Leera turned to Augum and loudly declared, “Don’t you love it when people talk about you as if you’re not there?”
Bridget curtsied. “Forgive us, Mrs. Haroun, Miss Haroun and Miss Graves. We have had a very trying couple of days.”
Mrs. Haroun, who had swelled to the size of a bull, nonetheless raised her chin a little. “I certainly hope you will recover your manners soon. Come, Malaika.”
Malaika gave Augum a longing look but obeyed her mother. Charissa lingered only a moment before following.
“What was that?” Augum asked after the women left. He was more curious than offended.
Leera shoved a third biscuit into her mouth. “Welcome to high society.”
Haylee watched them go. “My old haunt.”
“Snobs,” Chaska said. “I don’t like them.”
Haylee grabbed his elbow. “Agreed. Come, let us eat.”
Augum raised a brow at Leera. “Why did Mrs. Haroun ignore you?”
Leera rolled her eyes. “You can be so daft sometimes.”
“You’ll get used to it, Aug,” Bridget said with a sigh. “Lee, we’re guests here. Can you at least try and be civil?”
“Forget it. I just survived hell like, a thousand times, so if any of those vipers so much as hiss, I’m going to cast Confusion on them all. Then I’m going to sit back and stuff my face while they make mules of themselves before the entire town.”
“Ugh, please just don’t make a scene again.”
Augum flashed Bridget a wry smile. “What, you mean it’s happened before?”
Bridget folded her arms. “Don’t remind me.”
“Long story short,” Leera said, “bunch of snobby girls played head games I didn’t like.”
Bridget covered her mouth as she quietly spoke. “She poured stinkroot into the tea and the spirits at an academy supper party.”
Leera chortled to herself. “It was worth it. Should have seen them all hurrying to the lavatory.”
“You almost got expelled though.”
“Then I would’ve learned wild and blown myself up.”
A bell rang from the dining room.
“Please, everyone, do take your seats,” said the head servant.
“Finally, I’m starved,” Leera said, and dragged Augum and Bridget to the table.
Supper at the Harouns’
As guests of honor, Augum, Bridget and Leera were seated to the right of Mr. Haroun. His daughter Malaika and her friend Charissa sat to his left. Charissa kept giving Chaska, who sat beside her, horrified looks. Haylee, meanwhile, sat stiff as a board beside him. The table was long and covered with fine white cloth. Places were set with shiny silverware, fine porcelain, and crystal.
“What are all these knives for?” Augum whispered to Leera, feeling uncultured.
She shrugged. “Ask Bridge.”
Bridget leaned in. “That one there is for cutting bread, that one for cutting meat, and that one is for oysters.”
“Of course, oysters are very hard to come by this far from the ocean,” Malaika said loudly, “but we do try. Only the best for the town hero.”
“I, uh, I really haven’t done much,” Augum said. “Bridget and Leera though—”
“—would you like something to drink, Augum?” Malaika interrupted with a cheery smile. Before he could reply, she snapped her fingers at the servant girl. “Annelise, bring Augum and I some youngling ale, right away.”
The pink-eyed girl curtsied. “Yes, my lady,” but she flashed Malaika a hateful look soon as her back was turned, before disappearing to what Augum assumed to be the kitchen.
“Such a peculiar lot,” Malaika said to Charissa.
“You are braver than I to hire such … ghosts,” her friend replied.
“Father insists on his charity, but I really don’t care for the way they spook the guests.”
“Do not be rude, my dear child,” Mr. Haroun said after finishing a conversation with Constable Clouds. The latter was helped to a chair by his son Devon, who could not keep his eyes off the trio.
“We are extremely fortunate, Malaika,” Mr. Haroun continued, washing his hands in a basin of warm water, “far more fortunate than most, especially in these times. And if it were not for the demands of your mother, I would have us live … far more modestly.”
Malaika rolled her eyes. “If you had your way, Father, we would be living in squalor. I would be wearing rags and never find a suitable match.” Her eyes drifted to Augum with a flutter.
“Ugh, could she be any more obvious?” Leera muttered to the ceiling.
Ms. Singh picked up her bread and threw it at the elder servant. “Panjita is to be served the same bread as the host, not this peasant rat food older than she!”
Priya quickly glanced around the table before whispering, “Mother, if you do not behave, I will take you home.”
“Daughter will not speak to Panjita in such a manner if she wants to survive this so-called ‘feast’.”
“Mother, please—”
The servant picked up the bread with two fingers. “I shall rectify the problem immediately, my lady.”
“I hope Daughter hears how to properly address an elder,” Ms. Singh said to the table as Priya shrank in her chair. “Priya should be very kind to Panjita, as Panjita is still recovering from the nearly mortal blow of hearing her daughter betrothed to an unsuitable. A tall-as-a-beanpole, dark-as-night unsuitable. Look at him.” She waved a wild arm. “Look!”
“Really is quite the scandal,” Malaika said to a nodding Charissa.
Jengo only smiled and nodded his hello to the table, apparently taking it all in stride.
Priya, on the other hand, suddenly stood up. “He is not an unsuitable!” She grabbed
Jengo’s hand. “Come, Jengo,” and stormed out, taking the tall Sierran with her.
“How rude,” Malaika said to her friend.
Ms. Singh adjusted her thick spectacles, chin held high. “Panjita’s daughter is ungrateful and spoiled. Panjita has a good mind to cast her out of the house.”
Mr. Haroun wearily rubbed his forehead as Gabe took the bowl of water from him, promptly returning with a fresh bowl and cloth, handing it to Augum.
“I am sure you find all this wealth … unnecessary, Augum,” Mr. Haroun said, watching him awkwardly wash his hands and face. “I assure you I quite agree. People are dying across the kingdom while I play the rich merchant.” He leaned closer to Augum. “I will give up my wealth—and there is a lot more of it than what you see here—the moment I see a worthwhile investment. Right now, the only thing I want to invest in is seeing the downfall of the Legion and the end of war.”
It was a moment before Augum found his voice. “We have something in common then, sir. My father is …” In a flash he recalled an entire group of people lifted from the ground, feet twitching as they burned alive with lightning.
“Augum, are you all right?” Malaika asked with a look of fawning concern. “Please, may I get you something—where is that careless girl? Annelise!”
“I’m fine, thanks.” He returned his attention to Mr. Haroun as Malaika kept snapping her fingers for Annelise. “My father is a murderer. He murdered Bridget and Leera’s families. He murdered their friends. He even murdered my own mother. And he surrounds himself with murderers.” Robin Scarson, for one …
Suddenly he saw an elderly warlock crumple to the ground, followed by a separate violent image of Sal’s head exploding. The buzzing in his ears was so loud it took him a moment to realize Mr. Haroun was speaking to him.
“… has slaughtered many, and also risen many with his necromancy.” Mr. Haroun accepted a glass of wine from the elder servant. “Thank you, Clayborne. Now as I was saying, Augum, I am a man of fortune, but even more importantly, I believe I can persuade other merchants to invest in a campaign to overthrow the Legion and return the rule of law. Secrecy would have to be paramount of course, as it would be quite dangerous.”