Legend (The Arinthian Line Book 5)

by Sever Bronny

  Augum and Leera watched Bridget and Brandon banter while herding people inside.

  “They’re cute together,” Leera said. “Maybe they’ll pair up.”

  “Hope so,” Augum replied.

  She raised a brow at him. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. He’s cool.”

  “That’s big of you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just … well … you know you can be a bit big-brotherish.” Then she added in a mutter, “Not that I really blame you.”

  He stared at her.

  “Never mind. Come on, let’s help get everyone inside. Then I’m going to catch up on sleep. If we’re not evacuating, that is.”

  Second Chances

  Once everyone had been herded inside the castle that early morning, and sentiments expressed on how thankful everyone was that Prince Augum was alive and well, an immediate Resistance meeting was called, with a tired Mrs. Stone in attendance. Oddly, Ms. Terse had not arrived with that morning’s Antioc and Blackhaven Heralds, limiting news sources to the Exot orb.

  A soul-troubled Augum stood before the long dining table and explained everything that had transpired in the battle, and what the Lord of the Legion had told him—how the man had somehow overcome the scion limitation with Magua’s help, and that acquiring all seven would lead to the destruction of Ley. Augum recalled all too well how that strange desert-like plane deteriorated every time his father got his hands on a new scion. It had to be utter chaos there now. He wondered how the few remaining Leyans coped.

  “You all right, Prince Augum—?” someone asked.

  Augum startled. He had been staring at a stalking shadow in the other end of the room and hadn’t realized his voice had trailed off. People at the table confusedly glanced in that direction, but apparently saw nothing. Bridget and Leera exchanged a dark look.

  “Fine,” he mumbled, eyeing the shadow while distractedly finishing his story.

  After he sat down, a tense quiet befell the table. All eyes soon settled on Mrs. Stone, who sat idly in the queen’s chair, tapping the table as she thought the matter over.

  “Sparkstone is taunting us,” she finally wheezed. “He wishes and hopes for us to face him.”

  “Then … are you still going to go after him, Archmage?” Mr. Haroun asked from the other end of the table.

  Mrs. Stone’s gaze fell upon the trio. “Absolutely.”

  Augum felt light-headed. He had barely escaped with his life against a necromancer and a small squad of undead. He stood no chance whatsoever against a 20th degree lightning warlock with six scions. And based on their grave expressions, everyone in that room seemed to be thinking along the same lines. When they averted their eyes, he knew they thought they were looking at a dead kid. It did not inspire much hope in him.

  “Do we evacuate again?” Mrs. Haroun screeched in a voice full of dread. “Tell me we don’t have to move yet once more. Hanad? What say you, Husband?” But her husband only sighed wearily.

  By the listless way everyone reacted, Augum could tell no one wanted to run again. And he didn’t either. He was sure his destiny was entwined with this castle, especially when it came to his father.

  “We may not need to,” Mrs. Stone quietly replied. “I have been thinking of a way to obfuscate the castle, and have come to recall an old illusion spells that, with some diligent casting and concentration, might serve our needs.”

  Constable Clouds coughed into a cloth as he wearily leaned forward. “How would it work, Archmage?”

  “I would cast the spell on each occupant and invitee of the castle, so that once a warning has been given, as long as they remain within the area of effect and stood absolutely still, they would be invisible to trespassers. It would be a difficult spell to perform on such a scale, but it is plain we may not have a choice.”

  “Forgive me, Archmage,” Constable Clouds pressed, “but surely you cannot expect an entire village of people to stand absolutely still all day—”

  “They would not need to. A special casting of the Area Alarm spell should give us warning of approaching intruders. Combined with proper training, there should be ample time to find cover and become still.”

  “So this will mean an enemy can walk the grounds of the castle?” Mr. Okeke asked. “Freely, without obstruction, and they will not be able to see anyone?”

  “That is correct. I cannot guarantee what would happen if the Lord of the Legion himself came, but anyone else should be unable to see beyond the illusion. Again, with the proper training of the villagers and some other special illusionary tactics … I cannot see why it should not see defensive success.”

  Mr. Haroun stood. “Then we must get to it right away.”

  As everyone started shuffling out, Lord Bowlander stayed behind in his chair. Augum, too preoccupied with being stalked by shadows, hadn’t even noticed him.

  “Prince Augum, a word, if you please.” He looked sullen, with deep rings under his eyes, eyes that refused to look up.

  Augum had barely noticed Malaika and Charissa in the meeting either. The pair had sat rigidly, without meeting his or the girls’ gazes. Now they shuffled past with averted faces.

  “Please, Prince Augum.”

  Augum leaned back and crossed his arms. “Fine.”

  Bridget ignored Bowlander, but Leera and Haylee, the latter having evidently heard all about what had transpired, narrowed their eyes at him as they passed. Soon they were all gone, the door closed behind.

  “I … I know how much of a disappointment I’ve been of late,” Bowlander began in a halting voice, getting up to pace before the great marble fireplace. “I’ve been told my potion is useless. I let my aunt down, I let Mrs. Stone down, and I let the Resistance down. That doesn’t feel good, you know.”

  Augum said nothing.

  “Uh … I also want to express to Princess Bridget how sorry I am.”

  Augum still said nothing.

  Bowlander stopped to face Augum. “I have repeatedly tried approaching her or reaching her through the Exot orb, but—”

  “—she won’t see or talk to you? Why am I not surprised?”

  Bowlander’s head dropped. “Your sarcasm stings.”

  “Bridget caught you making out with another girl, what do you expect? You’re a rogue. Bridget is practically my sister—”

  “—please, if you would just talk to her so that she could give me one more chance—!”

  Augum got up and strode toward the door. “You’re kidding me, right? She doesn’t owe you anything.” He reached for the door handle, done with the conversation.

  Suddenly Bowlander dropped to his knees, bringing his hands together.

  Augum groaned. “Oh for—”

  “—I beg you, Prince Augum, you’re the only one she’d listen to. It would mean more to me than—”

  Augum squarely faced him. “NO! Do you hear me? No. I know Bridget, and there’s no way you’re going to ever ‘win her back’ or anything of that sort. She’s done with you. Move on.”

  Bowlander began trembling and sniffing. “Please, I love her so. I was drunk and I—”

  “—spare us both. You love the idea of her. Move on.”

  Bowlander wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. “You have a cold heart. How could you deny me love? How? Because you have it? Huh?” He stood, kicking a nearby chair. “You think yourself better than me because you have a castle and an empty title and a girl who … who … who loves you back? Everybody makes mistakes, and people deserve second chances. You think I’ll allow that pesky kid to steal my beloved?”

  The seventeen-year-old angrily shouldered past Augum, but Augum caught his arm and spun him about. For a moment each arm exploded with rings—four air and five lightning. Meanwhile, two shadows appeared in the corners of the room. They stood gleefully watching, waiting. Augum had to consciously ignore them as he grit his teeth at Bowlander.

  “Are you threatening Brandon?” he said.

&n
bsp; Bowlander violently shrugged Augum’s grip off. His face contorted menacingly before he strode out. The moment the door slammed behind him, the shadows swooped in.

  Whispers in the Dark

  “Aug—!”

  Augum startled, dazedly glancing about. He allowed his shield and lightning long sword to disappear. One moment he was fighting desperately for his life against a pair of shadows, the next Leera was gripping him by the arms. He glanced about and saw an empty dining room. Some of the chairs had been knocked down and he was drenched in cold sweat.

  “Were you having a living nightmare or something?” Leera asked tenderly, helping him up. “It’s the side effects of the spell, isn’t it?”

  He rubbed his face. He was going mad. Even now he could see shadows moving. Their features were sharpening too, and he thought he began to recognize some of their faces.

  “It wasn’t Bowlander, was it?”

  “No.”

  “What can we do?” She wrapped him in her arms and squeezed. “Hmm, my love? What can we do to help?” She softly kissed his cheek.

  He squeezed and nuzzled against her. “Nothing, I’m fine.” He did not want to tell her how scared he was—not scared for himself, not scared of the shadows, but fearful of Sparkstone, the confident way the man spoke of defeating them, of gaining the scion. The man was absolutely sure of himself, whereas Augum was filled with nothing but doubt. He felt like that barrel of horsemeat that had sat outside the trapper’s cabin—dead and frozen.

  For a time they just held each other, rocking gently, Leera idly playing with his birthday necklace, and he with her birthday bracelet, until Augum heard a voice in his head.

  “Where are you two?” Bridget asked. “You’re not seriously making out right now, are you?”

  Augum sighed. “Be right there.”

  * * *

  Down in the foyer, as exhausted as everyone was from the night’s search ordeal, they persevered in the very special training Mrs. Stone gave to the entire village of people. Once they heard a certain alarm, which Mrs. Stone demonstrated—it sounded like a great horn blast, which only the enchanted would be able to hear—they were to quickly find shelter and remain absolutely still. Area Alarm was a higher degree spell very much like Object Alarm, but obviously over a larger area. If an enemy should spot them while they moved, they would become visible to that enemy. In effect, the spell turned everyone into chameleons. She then explained how she was going to set a very large boundary for the warning enchantment. Any unauthorized human or undead passing through it would set the alarm off. However, the current perimeter enchantments would have to be disabled, an absolute necessity to avoid suspicion. It was something that caused great concern until Mrs. Stone reminded everyone that once the horn blast went off, all they had to do was simply remain absolutely still and the castle would appear deserted. If they had the time, they could find a hiding spot, but it wasn’t necessary. She promised to combine this spell with other illusion spells, giving the effect the castle was long deserted as opposed to quickly deserted.

  “What about if the undead or a necromancer gained entry into the castle?” someone asked.

  “That would be very difficult to do, for the doors would close immediately after the horn, and only open to those assembled here. Further, to all outward appearances, they would look quite inaccessible,” though she did not elaborate on what exactly she meant by that. Nonetheless, this seemed to satisfy the villagers, though most still felt uneasy about having to stand absolutely still while the undead sniffed about, not to mention necromancers, which could cast arcanery that might actually find them.

  While Mrs. Stone discussed the details, Augum’s gaze drifted to Bowlander, who stood near a quietly pleading Charissa. She was whispering urgently to him while he appeared to ignore her, instead keeping an iron gaze on Bridget’s back. Augum wondered how much he needed to worry about him. Was he going to do something really stupid? It was hard to say.

  One particular shadow whose features had solidified and clarified lately caught his eye—Erika Scarson. Did this mean that he had killed her in the tournament after all? Or was this all in his head? She was calmly strolling around the perimeter of the group, eyeing him, waiting. She was a specter, a gruesome and twisted visage of herself, as if having spent some time buried underground. Yet she still had those blasted jingling earrings. How come nobody else could hear them? Every time he fought the shadows, the wounds were real. They opened and bled and hurt something awful. Yet when the situation passed, he would find himself unhurt. Well, except for his soul, which was a dark cloud right now. It took all of his concentration not to indulge in that darkness, not to feel the fear and anger and chaos that pulled on him. It wanted him to lash out. It wanted him unhinged.

  Leera squeezed his clammy hand. She was watching him carefully. He could sense her worry. He forced a smile and drew her near. He was coming undone at the seams, and Erika Scarson was waiting. They were all waiting, biding their time for his inevitable fall from sanity.

  After much mental and physical preparation that involved consulting several scrolls and the blue book on arcaneology, Mrs. Stone, standing on the landing between the ground and first floors, cast the powerful group enchantment that would make everyone invisible to the enemy. As instructed, the crowd stood motionless for the casting. Augum felt a buzz in his bones and on his skin.

  The spell completed with a sizzle and Mrs. Stone collapsed into the arms of Captain Briggs and Lieutenant Cobb, causing many gasps. But instead of quitting, she righted herself, wheezing while leaning heavily on her staff.

  “Please, Great One,” Mr. Haroun begged quietly, “you must rest—”

  Mrs. Stone shook her head as she had him lead her down the steps, insistent on completing the second stage of casting, the Area Alarm spell. The throng solemnly parted as she shuffled by.

  “Please stay inside until we return, everyone,” Mr. Haroun instructed as he and the guards escorted her out of the castle.

  The crowd stirred uncertainly. The spell would take a couple hours to cast. Some retired for a nap in the two large communal servant rooms, others went to work on the inside of the castle, while still others loitered nervously in the foyer. To Augum, their fears were plainly written on their faces—was the Legion on their way this moment? Would the Lord of the Legion appear suddenly? Did he already suspect where they were?

  “You all look exhausted,” Augum said to Bridget, Leera, Jengo and Haylee. “Been a long night for you, why don’t you take a long nap? I’ll wake you in the afternoon for training, or should anything happen.”

  Leera rubbed her eyes. “All right, but are you going to be okay?”

  “Of course.” He squeezed her hand and they tromped off to nap.

  “You do not look yourself, Augum,” Mr. Goss said, sitting on the marble steps. Leland sat beside him, deeply focused on the Agonex, obviously practicing something Mrs. Stone had taught him.

  “I’m fine, Mr. Goss,” he absently replied, taking a seat beside him, trying to avoid staring at shadowy Erika Scarson, who he half expected to attack someone. She paced like a stalking wolf. He closed his eyes and strongly willed her to go away, yet upon opening them, found her to have only moved closer, flashing him a devilish grin. He needed to stay vigilant.

  “Prince Stone,” a young village man said, bowing. “Bless your soul.”

  Augum inclined his head and forced a smile, too exhausted emotionally to take up conversation with people right now. The young man lingered awkwardly before finally moving on. Mr. Goss looked on but thankfully did not comment.

  Chaska sat down on the other side of Augum. “Can I have a word?” he whispered.

  Augum tried not to groan. He was having a hard time ignoring that awful shadow.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Haylee.”

  “Oh?” Augum said, wondering if Erika was about to strike a child held in a peasant woman’s arms. She feigned an attack, making Augum suddenly jolt to his feet, only to witnes
s her move on, cackling at him. He tentatively sat back down.

  “You all right—?” Chaska asked, trying to see what he was looking at.

  “Yeah, sure.” They must think him mad. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  “You don’t think it’s haunted either, do you?”

  “Sorry—?”

  “Some of the villagers swear the castle is haunted. But they think everything is haunted. Thought Milham haunted too. And definitely the Ravenwood.”

  “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that.” Not really.

  “Anyway, about Haylee …” Chaska’s snow-skinned fingers twiddled with each other as his voice dropped. “I mean, I really care about her, I do, it’s just … she wants to marry the moment we turn sixteen. And she wants servants and a house and—” He fell silent as Devon skipped over.

  “Hiyas, Augum—I mean, Prince Augum! I’m so glad you’re all right. And hello, Chaska. I know it got cut short, but wasn’t that an amazing party last night? I’ve never actually witnessed a real traditional Advancement Ceremony like that—I mean, I once did, but I was young and distracted and didn’t really appreciate how neat and fun and—”

  “—Devon,” Augum said, rubbing his temples. “Would you give us a little bit?”

  A hurt feeling passed over Devon’s chubby face. “Oh, uh, yeah, of course. Excuse me,” and he trundled off.

  “He’s really loving the castle,” Chaska said, watching Devon start up a new conversation with a most reluctant Bowlander, Malaika and Charissa, seemingly oblivious to their muted drama.

  “Glad to hear it,” Augum said tonelessly.

  Chaska nodded as he nervously shifted his bulk about on the steps. He had been gaining muscle, with having renewed purpose as the castle fletcher, not to mention becoming a corporal for the Resistance, helping his father with the shop, managing patrol duties, and juggling Haylee.

  “And you’re not ready,” Augum said quietly. “To get married, that is.”

  Chaska nodded. “Exactly. I don’t … I don’t know what to tell her.”

  “Just be honest. Tell her you care about her very much but you’re not ready to be married right now.” Seemed simple enough, right? Augum would have normally clapped him on the back here and flashed a cheery smile, but Erika’s shadow was now threatening to slit Devon’s throat. Augum resisted charging over there and blasting her with his First Offensive. He did wonder if she was able to cast spells. Then he remembered the night before, and Corrigus’ horrible, withering spell. He shivered.