Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4)

by Sever Bronny

  Augum did not know what to say. Being talked about, fame, infamy—none of that mattered to him. What mattered was the downfall of the Legion. What mattered were his friends.

  “I came here for vengeance,” Caireen went on. “To make Mother and Father proud of me … but it’s just a dumb tournament. My kingdom burns as we speak. You don’t … you don’t know what they’re doing. They’re raising the dead … they burn the villages but raise the dead—”

  He made a quick gesture for her to stop—she was getting too loud. But that was an interesting point. Raiding kingdoms and making troops—of course! Now it all made sense. And the more necromancers, the more troops raised. Walkers, wraiths, they all needed bodies. How come he hadn’t realized that before? The war effort would self-perpetuate. Every enemy slain is another added to Sparkstone’s ranks …

  It was diabolically genius, and just like his father.

  “Sorry,” Caireen mumbled. “But tell me you’re doing something about it. Tell me someone is. Tell me there’s something beyond this stupid tournament—”

  He made the slightest nod. “There is … a secret resistance.”

  Her face lit up with a glimmer of joy.

  “Where are you staying?”

  “The library. Room 1478. Send me a note after the fight. Don’t worry, no one enters my room. I’m supposed to report to a Legion constabulary after the tournament is over and sign up as a necrophyte.” She shuddered at the thought. “I’d rather die.” She paused, gave a furtive glance around before smoothing her robe. “You’re here for something important, aren’t you?”

  He gave the slightest nod.

  She looked at him searchingly with those wild orange eyes. “You’re here to get to the end of the tournament—”

  He nodded again.

  Caireen’s wild eyes turned to steel. “Let us make that happen.”

  “Get ready, you two,” Secretary Sharma said, striding into the room.

  “Run the glass,” Caireen blurted, getting up.

  “What?” Augum was trying to process what she had just said.

  Secretary Sharma made a jerky wave. “Over here, you two. You’re about to be introduced. Move it—”

  Augum and Caireen followed Secretary Sharma down the exit tunnel, lining up at the mouth to the arena. The noise from the crowd here was loud and oppressive.

  Augum’s blood raced. He was going to face Robin. Caireen was going to throw the match and he was going to face Robin! But what had she meant by run the glass?

  “And now, a very special and rare battle,” Giovanni was saying as attendants once again wheeled out stands filled with practice weapons. “Folks, for the first time this year, we’re about to see two lightning warlocks duel.” The crowd clapped and cheered. “May I introduce, from the newly-liberated Kingdom of Tiberra … a sixteen-year-old who learned her 1st degree wild before finding a mentor … you’ve seen her speed, witnessed her arcane intelligence … she can split stones with a flash of her hand … Caireen ‘Blitz Bolt’ Lavo—!”

  Caireen furtively glanced over her shoulder at Secretary Sharma, then at Augum. “Run the glass,” she mouthed, before a push sent her jogging out of the tunnel.

  “What?” he mouthed with a shake of his head. Then it occurred to him. The hourglass! He wanted to smack his forehead. He could be so daft sometimes.

  “The next opponent you’ve already come to know as an inventive, strong warlock … possessing a heart almost too big for his fifteen years … they write about him in the Herald … a necrophyte hailing from the tiny town of Everscale … the elusive … the mysterious … Augustus ‘The Hood’ Westwooooood!”

  Augum strode out to a chorus of cheers. He caught a glimpse of a clapping Bridget and Leera, and not too far away, a sneering Robin and Temper.

  Giovanni pulled the two combatants close to face each other before running through the usual set of rules. Caireen wore an expression of … was it peace? It was hard to say. As Giovanni pulled away, she gave Augum a secret wink. He gave her a grateful smile in return.

  “Combatants please observe the ancient battlefield tradition!”

  Augum and Caireen’s arms flared with four lightning rings each as they bowed deeply to each other, except Caireen’s were on her left arm, meaning she was left-handed.

  Giovanni pointed at Caireen. “Are you ready?” She nodded. He pointed at Augum. “And are you ready?” As soon as he nodded, Giovanni chopped at the air. “Fight!”

  Caireen slammed her wrists together, her voice amplified. “Annihilo!” Augum noticed she had done it a bit slowly, giving him ample time to raise his shield and block the bolt, which packed an arcane punch that made him take a step back from the force of the blow.

  He did the same spell and she blocked it too.

  “A bit of a slow start,” Giovanni was saying in the background, “they’re obviously feeling each other out, testing for strengths and weaknesses … now they’re circling, trying to decide how to attack. Meanwhile, the hourglass is trickling …”

  Augum used Telekinesis to throw wooden practice weapons at her from both sides. She saw them and made a limp effort to dodge, stepping aside from one but taking the other in the back, making a theatrical “Ow!” gesture.

  “One point for The Hood!” The crowd clapped, but was already starting to shout for them to go at it harder.

  Caireen gave Augum a meaningful look he interpreted as Attack me already! But how was he to attack her in a way that didn’t hurt? Arcanery was combat-oriented, offensive and painful and—

  Exasperated, she shoved at the air. “Baka!” but he again raised his shield. She gave him that same look.

  All right already, might as well give the crowd a show. Augum traced the air with a finger and Caireen promptly did the same. “Summano elementus minimus!” Two lightning elementals sizzled into existence before the combatants, Augum’s slightly larger.

  “Elementus, attack!” Caireen and Augum chorused, and the two elementals charged at each other. The crowd loved this and began cheering.

  Meanwhile, Augum made a gesture aimed at Caireen’s ears. “Voidus Aurus!” He wasn’t sure the Deafness spell worked until she suddenly blurted, “WHAT?”

  The crowd laughed at the unusual outburst.

  “Looks like a successful Deafness casting,” Giovanni said. “Kind of useless if you ask me, but it counts as a point. That’s two-nothing. What an odd fight. Not much imagination here.”

  Yeah well pretending to win fairly was harder than it looked, Augum wanted to say. He grit his teeth and slammed his wrists together again. “Annihilo!” but, seeing Caireen was distracted by the elementals, purposefully missed. Even knowing there were healers present didn’t help, it seemed. He just couldn’t knowingly hurt her.

  “A poor attempt at best,” Giovanni narrated as the crowd began to hiss and boo. “And that hourglass trickles on … are we going to see a fight here?”

  Caireen threw at the ground. “GRAU!” and the crack of thunder boomed over the arena, wowing the audience.

  “Another impressive but useless gesture,” Giovanni said, frowning. “And the judges agree, refusing to award a point.”

  Caireen pointed at a spear and flung her arm at Augum. The spear hurtled toward him, barely missing his head as the crowd gasped.

  “That’s a little better!” Giovanni said.

  She and Augum threw various weapons at each other, all either missing or lamely plonking off their summoned shields. Augum felt a prickle of embarrassment. Their fake attacks must be so obvious that the fight was going to be stopped soon. He had to change tact. Maybe arcanery wasn’t the way to go …

  He summoned a wooden practice mace to his hand and charged. Luckily, Caireen took up the challenge, grabbing a short sword.

  “Look at that, we have some hand-to-hand combat here, folks! How unusual!” But after a while of watching, Giovanni added, “Maybe I’m being silly, but they seem to mostly be aiming at each other’s shields—” The crowd went from se
mi-enthusiastic cheering to booing and hissing again.

  Augum let a sword strike hit his shoulder, just to liven things up a little. They had listlessly been draining the hourglass.

  “A point for Blitz Bolt, but the Hood is still in the lead at two-one—”

  Caireen followed up with another strike that Augum accidentally forgot to block. It hit him on the other shoulder.

  “Two-two, we have a tie, folks!”

  Caireen gave Augum a frustrated look before shoving at the air, shouting, “BAKA!” Augum did not expect it and was sent flying back.

  “It’s three-two for the Tiberran! And the hourglass is almost done—” The crowd was on its feet now, booing and urging Augum to do something, anything.

  Oh no, Augum realized, still lying on the ground—he only had moments to score two points. Caireen must have realized the same thing because she stood there awkwardly, giving him an important look. He knew what she wanted but he was terribly afraid of hurting her.

  But he had no choice now, and he only hoped the healers would help her in time. He saw the hourglass finish just as he slammed his wrists together. “ANNIHILO!” concentrating on purposefully weakening the strike. Unfortunately, weakening his First Offensive was something he hadn’t practiced much. The powerful bolt struck her in the stomach and she was blown back with a horrifying scream.

  “Get the healers!” Augum immediately shouted, before she even hit the ground.

  “A knock-out, the fight’s over—” Giovanni was saying as black-robed warlocks rushed into the arena. “But did the hourglass run out before the blow was struck—what do our illustrious judges say on the matter … will it be the Tiberran or the Legion necrophyte?”

  Giovanni glanced to the judge’s booth, where the bald Martus the Black argued vociferously with a smug Erika and a sneering Vulica. “It appears we have quite the deliberation going on—”

  At last, Martus the Black threw his hands up in the air in exasperation before punching his voting lever.

  “And there we have it, folks, by a vote of two-to-one, with Vulica Vaneek and Erika Scarson voting for and our guest judge from Canterra voting against, our winner … Augustus ‘The Hood’ Westwooooood—!”

  Giovanni strode over to raise Augum’s arm in victory, but Augum ran to Caireen instead, asking the two healers, “Is she all right?” forgetting his voice was amplified still.

  “He’s an honorable fellow, isn’t he, folks?” Giovanni said as he followed Augum. The crowd agreed with polite clapping. “And there we have the signal from the healers that Miss Lavo will survive.” Giovanni had a firm hand on Augum’s shoulder as the healers carried her off. “Come, my boy, and let us discuss this odd—but in the end, somewhat satisfying—victory. Now, it certainly wasn’t the best or most interesting fight. It seemed you two were testing each other throughout most of it. What was the strategy there?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Augum cringed. He wanted nothing more than to get out of there. He had nothing to say.

  “Almost seemed like the match was a fix, wouldn’t you say?” Giovanni chortled along with the crowd. “I jest, I jest, you can relax, my boy. But seriously, we need to see a better performance. You can’t compete like that in tomorrow’s finals now, can you, son?”

  “No.”

  “Because as Mr. Scarson aptly demonstrated for us, he can be a deadly foe.”

  Augum only nodded.

  “Well there we have it, folks, a man of few words. Our winner, advancing on to tomorrow’s historic finals … Augustus ‘The Hood’ Westwoooooood!”

  Suspicions

  Augum had a lot of explaining to do to Bridget and Leera on the way back, both of whom were mystified by the performance, as was the crowd, for they had lots of colorful things to say on his way out—

  “Loser—!”

  “It was a fix!”

  “You suck, Hood!”

  “What happened out there, you piss yourself?”

  “My grandma could’ve fought better, and she don’t even know arcanery!”

  “Ouch,” Leera said after the last one.

  “Tell us what happened,” Bridget said after they finally broke free of the arena and made their way through the bustling cobbled streets of Antioc.

  Augum explained everything, even including how the Legion was raising troops in Tiberra.

  “Why didn’t you come up with a better plan at least?” Leera asked, fending off an exuberant beggar promising to allow them to raise him as the undead in exchange for meat. “You know, one with a bit more … theatricality?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t have time. It all sort of … happened so fast.”

  “That’s true, you weren’t supposed to fight so quickly,” Leera said. “They rushed the singers from the arena after the crowd started throwing food. You know you’re doing badly when you get a face full of tomato during a famine.”

  But as expected, Bridget and Leera mostly gave him a hard time about letting a stranger know his true identity.

  “You two need to trust me a bit more,” he said. “Besides, I think Caireen could help us. And you know we need all the help we can get.”

  “She’s a stranger,” Leera said for the umpteenth time.

  He stopped replying after that, instead grabbing her hand and squeezing. She shook her head at him but at least said nothing more on the subject.

  “You two have got to stop doing that, you’re cousins here.”

  Leera shrugged, smirking. “So what? Isn’t that typical of the rural villages?”

  “Leigh Sparrows—”

  “Hey, points for proper full name usage there.”

  “Ugh. Incorrigible.”

  Augum had to interject, using the codeword for the Agonex. “What were you saying about the biscuit before my match, Brie?”

  “Oh, right—” Bridget glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. “You two aren’t going to believe this, but I think I know what’s been going on in Bahbell. It’s Leland! Leland’s figuring out how to use the biscuit—”

  Leera stopped, placed both hands on Bridget’s shoulders. “I know you’ve been under a lot of stress, but there’s no reason to make stuff up. If you need attention, we’re here for you.”

  Bridget slapped her hands away. “Stop it. You need to take things more seriously. Look,” she went on as they continued walking, “I’ve been thinking it over and it all makes sense. It’s actually the only thing that makes sense when you factor in the requirements and complexities of—” She froze. “Stop. Giving. Him. That. Look.”

  “What look?”

  “That look suggesting I’m sleep deprived and going crazy again. You give it to him way too often and I’m sick of it. Worse, you know I’m not sleep deprived!”

  Leera held her palms up. “All right, I’m sorry.” She paused. “I’m sorry, all right? I’ll stop being such a dork.”

  Bridget took an exasperated breath but continued walking. “I did the research and I’m telling you, Leland’s figuring the biscuit out.”

  “All right, he’s figuring the biscuit out.”

  Bridget stopped. “Argh! You’re doing it again!”

  “Doing what—!”

  This time, Augum got between them. “Stop it, both of you. Look, I get it, we’ve been doing crazy stuff together for so long we’re getting on each other’s nerves for dumb things.” He’d been wanting to say that for a while, just hadn’t had the chance to properly articulate it. “But we still have a lot of work to do so you two need to stop stepping on each other’s toes for stupid little things like that and learn to—” He brought his hands together, at a loss for words. “You know, like—”

  “Harmonize?” Bridget said.

  “Yes, exactly. I mean, you’re best friends, for mercy’s sake! That means you need to harmonize and, uh, work well together!”

  Leera grinned at him. “Nice speech.”

  “And you do need to take her a bit more seriously,” he said, adding in a whisper, “just a smidge.�
�

  Bridget sighed and he whirled on her. “And you need to stop snapping so quickly.”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Bridget said. “I’m just really worried about Leland. If he fails …”

  “I’m sorry too,” Leera said in honest tones. “I make light of everything almost all the time. Not always appropriate. And don’t worry about Leland. Something tells me he might actually be perfect for the biscuit.”

  Augum nodded. “And if Leland really is figuring it out—which I’m sure is true, by the way—then maybe that’s a good thing. We need all the help we can get. Besides, I agree with Leigh—bet you he’d be better with it than all of us put together.”

  Bridget strode purposefully on. “That’s why it’s a thousand times easier to start arcanery young than it is to start it old. Still, I think Mr. Goss might kill us when he finds out—”

  “Do we have to tell him, like, right away though?” Leera said. “Maybe we should let him get accustomed to it a little. You know, have Leland kill off some—” She checked to make sure no one was listening, but the streets were packed with busy and chatty people, “—baddies and stuff first.”

  “We’re going to tell Mr. Goss everything right away,” Bridget said.

  “Of course we are, that’s what I meant.” Leera secretly rolled her eyes at Augum, but this time he forced himself to ignore it.

  As soon as they made their way through the library entrance, they were accosted by a young gray-robed attendant. “You’re The Hood, right?” When Augum nodded, the boy handed over a note. “It’s urgent.” The boy strode away. Augum unfolded the small parchment as Bridget and Leera crowded near.

  See me in my office immediately.

  Secretary Prudence Klines

  They exchanged a look before hurrying to the portal room, where they immediately bumped into Grizelda Watts and two Legion guards. “Ah, just the three I’ve been looking for.” She gave them a toady smile, simpering, “This way, dears.”

  “We have to see Secretary Klines,” Augum said, holding out the note.