Legend (The Arinthian Line Book 5)

by Sever Bronny

  Augum ignored the chunky shadow floating nearby. He was too excited and determined. He carefully flipped through the book. Some of the pages were so old they tore away from the binding, forcing him to arcanely repair them on the spot. He also noticed there were hand-written notes in the margins. It gave him an idea. He flipped back to the diagram of the rectangles, wondering if it was possible that maybe, just maybe—

  “You is guilty of me being dead,” Dap said in his crude country twang. Augum’s mind briefly flashed to that crucial moment back in Willowbrook when Dap had been trying to pummel him, only to suffer a Legionnaire’s mace attack.

  “You is guilty, gutterborn, and you is goin’ to suffer for it.”

  Augum returned his attention back to the book. And suddenly he saw it. What he had mistaken for a tiny ink stain was in fact a tiny X. It was inside the sixth-largest rectangle. Someone, at some point in the past, had used this very book to figure out that very clue!

  “This has to be it,” he said to himself, slamming the book closed and looking at the tiled floor anew. He strode over to a corner and began counting aloud as he stepped along the black and white tiles. “One, two, three …” all the way to, “… twenty-four!” For a moment, he only stood there in disbelief. Then he frantically began counting the other wall. “Eighteen,” he whispered reverently as he stepped onto the last tile. It was a ratio! Three by four perfectly divided into eighteen by twenty-four! But then … which tile was it?

  He closed his eyes in concentration, recalling that the X was in the second-to last square on the longer right side of the runic clue. Factoring for the ratio, that meant it was the twelfth square in. That left only two possible tiles, depending on the orientation of the clue. But since the room was twenty-four tiles across, that meant it was almost in the center!

  Augum glanced between the two longer walls. One was nothing but the back of the room, facing the inner castle, whereas the other had the giant window. He grinned, instinctively knowing which one would have the right tile. He strode over to the window and dropped to his knees.

  “What are you looking for?” Robin cackled. “Spiders?”

  “Dumb gutterborn be searching for his brains,” Dap added.

  Augum ignored them both, excitement flowing through his veins. At last, he found it—a tiny X, etched into the top corner of the twelfth tile, right up against the wall, practically in the middle of the wall underneath the window.

  “But now what?” he muttered, grinning despite himself.

  “Now you kill yourself—”

  “Crash through that window, we want to see you splat—”

  “Smash your head against it, maybe that would help—”

  The last was Erika. She had joined in on the fun. Interesting that they weren’t attacking him. Was it that he was too excited? He didn’t even bother glancing over his shoulder. Instead, he said, “Maybe it’s hidden.”

  “What’s hidden is that stupid oafish brain of yours,” Robin replied, the three of them chortling.

  “I’m certain it’s here,” Augum said. Great, he was conversing with them now. What was next, having long philosophical conversations? Having supper together? He was losing his mind.

  He splayed his hand over the tiny X. “Un vun deo.” Luckily, he was practiced enough with the Unconceal spell to focus through their taunting. Except the arcane ether said there was nothing purposefully hidden here.

  “Nothing non-arcane,” he said to the shadows.

  “Idiot—”

  “Gutterborn moron—”

  “We could kill him now but this is too much fun—”

  “The heir, or descendant or whatever,” Augum continued in wondrous tones, “would know arithmetic and arcanery. But he or she would have to know some advanced arcanery too, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “Shut that hole already.”

  “Shh, darlings, he’s thinking. Give the poor idiot a chance.”

  “Therefore, it’s hidden arcanely,” Augum continued on, tapping his lips. “Reveal, 11th degree. Wish me luck, you jerks.”

  “Choke on it—”

  “How about a fist in the face instead?”

  “Maybe we should kill him now after all.”

  But Augum, who had enough of their taunting, merely closed his eyes and took a series of deep breaths. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked.

  “We’ll kill you when we’re good and ready, gutterborn,” Robin finally replied. Interestingly, there was a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

  Augum smirked.

  “You’re not figuring anything out, sunshine, don’t think you’re so clever,” Erika said, blasted earrings jingling. “You just wait, it’s only just begun …”

  Augum glanced over to give her a mocking grin but there was nobody there. Instead he returned his attention to the tile, concentrating on the complex layers of the spell. Then he held both hands over the spot. “Un vun asperio aurum enchantus.”

  All at once, the inside of the grand window lit up brightly like a beacon fire, except aimed inwards. Amongst the stained glass, an intricate pattern formed, within which was a single word.

  “ ‘Descendi,’ ” Augum whispered reverently. Then he noticed the prismatic and geometric patterns surrounding the word, each bisecting point lit up like a star. But the light faded before he could make out what it meant, forcing him to recast the difficult spell. He then carefully etched the pattern into his mind, knowing he didn’t have the mental strength to cast such a difficult spell three times in a row.

  “Of course you don’t,” Robin sneered, finishing his thought for him.

  “Shut up,” Augum said off-handedly, standing and dusting his knees.

  “Make me.”

  How juvenile. Augum turned. Robin’s shade was near the door. Augum tilted his head. There was a way to solve this. There had to be. He couldn’t go through his whole life tormented by these stupid things.

  “I don’t have time for you,” Augum said.

  “Like I care, you gutterborn moron.”

  “Why don’t you make yourself useful then and help me.”

  “You’re joking, right? I’m not helping you. You murdered me.”

  “We both know that’s not true. Your past killed you. It was karma.”

  The shade watched him coldly. The shadow was near ephemeral, the features twisted. The throat gaped, even bled black blood.

  Augum folded his arms. “Find me a quill and ink bottle.”

  “I’m not your errand boy, gutterborn.”

  “You can’t actually move anything, can you?”

  “Just you wait.” Robin’s shade then vanished.

  “Thought so.” Augum uncrossed his arms and strode off to his room upstairs, taking the Principus Arithmetikus book with him. Sure, the pain of the attacks was real, but something had changed—suddenly, the shades weren’t attacking. Though he suspected that wouldn’t last once he cast Cron again.

  A Knock at the Door

  Later that morning Augum sat down at the desk in his room, withdrew a piece of parchment from a drawer, dipped a raven-feather quill into a shallow ink bottle, and began sketching the second clue from memory. Once the crude illustration was complete, he placed the quill onto the desk and sat back to ponder what he had drawn.

  “Makes no sense,” he muttered, unimpressed. “Bunch of stupid shapes.” And he was pretty sure he hadn’t misremembered the pattern either. The problem was, now that he had some perspective, it just looked … random.

  At least he had solved that first clue with the X. Even Nana hadn’t been able to do that. Now he wondered if he’d be able to solve the rest of the clues before the girls woke up. Wouldn’t that be something! But first he’d have to solve this second clue …

  He frowned at the parchment. Then he turned it around, hoping looking at it upside down would help. It didn’t. In fact, no matter what angle he looked at it from, the illustration made absolutely no sense at all. And even stretching his imaginati
on gave no usable results. It was like looking at a clunky cloud—could be a jumbled puzzle, a cut-to-pieces painting, or a shattered glass object.

  Aggravated, he snatched the parchment just as a knock came at the door. “Aug?” There was a pause as Leera yawned. “Can I come in?”

  Augum tossed the parchment back onto the desk before getting up to let her in. He squeezed her close and gave her a peck on the cheek. Her hair was ruffled a little and she still had circles under her eyes. She stretched and yawned a second time, which made Augum yawn too.

  “Someone napped well,” he said.

  Leera flopped onto the bed and examined her nails. “Saw Mrs. Stone being led to her room. She looked exhausted. Seems she finished the enchantments and stuff. What now? We wait until what’s-his-face comes? Die holed up in this place?”

  Augum closed the door. “My father? We’re taking the fight to him. Black Castle. Soon as possible.”

  “You know we’re not ready, right?”

  “Of course not, but we’re running out of time. Bridget up? Lunch should almost be ready.”

  “No, she’s still snoozing.” Leera arched a mischievous brow at him. “Want to make out?”

  Augum was about to say definitely when he spotted a sneering shadow lurking in a corner. “Err, let’s wait on that. I got something to show you.”

  Leera made a pouty face as he strolled to the desk. “Found this,” he said, holding up the Principus Arithmetikus.

  “Congratulations, you found the most boring book in Sithesia.”

  “Well, never mind. Point is, it led me to this.” He held up the parchment he had drawn the second clue on. “I solved the first runeword clue.”

  “You did? Wow, we fall asleep for a few hours and suddenly you get busy.” But she was smiling proudly. “What is that supposed to be anyway, some kind of mangled spiderweb?”

  He glanced skeptically between it and her. “I’m not that bad at drawing. And seriously? A mangled spiderweb? It looks nothing like that.”

  “Well what do you want me to say? What does it look like to you—?”

  He hesitated. “Uh, well, that’s the point … I don’t know. Can’t make sense of it.”

  “Leering Leera is secretly getting bored of you,” Robin spat from beside the wardrobe, where he was hovering.

  “Shut up—” Augum snapped back.

  “Excuse me?” Leera said.

  “Not you—”

  Leera glanced around the room. “Am I missing something?”

  Augum sighed. “I’m seeing shadows. Like Bridget did that one time in the vestibule. And maybe like Nana. Side effects of the spell.”

  Robin snorted. “I know what spell you’re talking about, moron. All-knowing, remember?”

  Augum thumbed in Robin’s direction. “Did you … you know, hear that?”

  Leera blinked. “Hear what?”

  “Never mind.”

  A knock came at the door.

  “Yes?”

  “Excuse me, Prince Augum,” a meek Annelise began from behind the door, “I am to inform you that lunch will be served shortly.”

  “Thank you, Annelise. We’re on our way.”

  * * *

  Lunch was as tense as the weather. The sky had darkened considerably and the trees swayed to a fierce wind. At the table, nobody wanted to talk about the prospect of a sudden Legion appearance. Meanwhile, Chaska and Haylee must have had another fight because they were ignoring each other. And then there was Lord Bowlander, who ignored a silently fuming Charissa while not so subtly trying to catch Bridget’s attention.

  But Bridget had other concerns. She was half focused on the food and half on the Exot orb. She kept excusing herself from the dining room so as not to be rude, no doubt to talk over the Exot orb. Grave looks were exchanged in the mean.

  “Something’s going on,” Leera whispered to Augum.

  Rain began to beat against the stained glass windows. The whole castle seemed to darken. The candles on the tables flickered.

  Bridget gave Augum and Leera an ominous look as she entered the room. This time, she did not sit back down. Instead, she turned to address everyone.

  “The academy’s under attack.”

  For a moment, nobody spoke.

  “So is Antioc. So is Blackhaven itself.”

  “But … by who?” Devon asked in a weak voice. “All are Legion-controlled, aren’t they?”

  Bridget was pale. “By the undead. Something big is happening, some sort of … purge. It’s obviously the Legion’s doing, but I don’t understand why it’s happening—” She suddenly placed a hand to her ear and her lips to the orb. “I understand. One moment, please.” She lowered the orb. “Excuse me,” and left the room again.

  The table splintered into anxious conversations as the rain drummed against the windows.

  “This makes no sense,” Augum said to Leera. “Why would the undead be attacking the Legion’s own people?”

  “We’ve heard of it happening already on a small scale, haven’t we? I mean, Antioc has had its share of undead problems. Mostly undead roaming wild and stuff, right?”

  “Somebody fetch the archmage—” Mrs. Haroun shrieked. “It is her responsibility to keep us safe!”

  “I am afraid the archmage needs to rest, Wife. The spell-casting, combined with staying up so late, has taxed her most considerably.”

  “Hanad, we cannot protect ourselves here while—” and the two argued back and forth.

  Suddenly the door opened and in strode a bloody and rain splattered warlock in a black robe. For a moment Augum didn’t recognize her. She stared around the table with wild eyes, raven hair matted with blood, chest heaving.

  “The game’s up,” Jezebel Terse gasped. “They’re rooting us out. It’s begun.”

  A New Dark History

  The dining room erupted into chaos after Ms. Terse’s proclamation. People jumped to their feet and began asking frantic questions.

  “What has begun? War—?”

  “Against who—?”

  “The kingdom—?”

  “Why would the Legion attack its own—?”

  “Why would the undead attack its own—!”

  Bridget breathlessly rushed over to Augum and Leera. “They’re asking for help. They want Mrs. Stone.”

  “Who is?” Augum asked.

  Bridget swallowed. “Everyone. The academy. People in Antioc. Everyone.”

  “Gods,” Leera whispered.

  An idea suddenly occurred to Augum. He tore past them.

  “Wait, where are you going—?” Leera asked amongst the chaos.

  Augum turned. “I’m going to ask my father directly. I’m going to ask him what’s going on.”

  The girls exchanged one look before joining him in a sprint upstairs. In the hallways, people had already heard the commotion and were anxious for news, but Augum only told them to stay inside for now.

  Back at his room, Augum hurriedly rifled through his trunk, until finally finding one of the two captured Exot rings. He switched his out, careful to place it in his left pocket, then took a deep breath, listening to rain pelt the windows, and the occasional distant rumble of thunder.

  “Contact Lividius Stone. What are you doing?”

  It took a moment, but his father replied in a voice somewhat out of breath. “Forcing your hand, Son. You have made it difficult to find you. My patience has worn thin. The crone must come, and she must come now. She can find me with the divining rod.” His voice sounded maniacal, as if drunk on bloodlust.

  Augum heard a garbled background scream. “Leave those people alone!” he shouted.

  “Oh, but this is joyous fun, my boy. When one has been elevated above the masses, one need not worry about their laws. I am not burdened by their fears or concerns, their base morals or their shallow attachments. Regardless of how they lived their lives, in the end, they will suffer old age and death, whereas I will go on eternally. I am liberating them, giving them a taste of an eternity more pre
cious than the entirety of their rotten peasant lives.”

  Augum almost didn’t know how to reply to that madness. “How could you kill your own people?”

  “My own people.” There was a derisive snort. “It galls me how naive you are, my boy. You should join me, I shall teach you power and glory and how to rule. You can have Tiberra if you want. Or Solia. Matters not.”

  “We settled this, you know I will never join you.”

  “I suppose I do.”

  “Why are you really doing this?”

  “It is a large world. That calls for a large army, does it not?”

  “Gods …”

  “Oh, but do you not see? There are no gods, my boy. But we could elevate ourselves to become gods with eternity. I will be the first true Unnameable. You are doomed. All of you peasants are doomed. But rest assured you shall serve your purpose yet, yes you will. And you shall be granted the eternal for that service. Now go and tell them. Tell them what awaits them. Tell the crone to find me on the field of battle. We shall see each other soon …”

  Augum yanked the ring off with a curse. He threw the stupid thing into his trunk.

  Bridget and Leera were pale with fear. He told them everything his father had said.

  “I’ll see if I can wake Mrs. Stone,” Bridget said in a weak voice when he finished, and she drifted out of the room in a daze.

  “Death is a sweetness, my dear,” Erika said. She stood behind Leera, sneering a dark smile, dressed in a fur-lined deep crimson robe.

  “Get away from her—” Augum spat, yanking Leera close.

  “You cannot save her. You cannot save the kingdom. You have no idea what’s coming.”

  “You’re scaring me, my love,” Leera said, staring at his face with grave concern, voice cracking. “Are you all right—?”

  Erika’s earrings jingled as she tilted her head. “Imagine a kingdom full of nothing but undead soldiers, undead soldiers equipped with the finest armor known in all of history. Imagine that, my sweet child.”

  Erika glided a threatening step closer, making Augum hide Leera behind him. “What I shall enjoy most, my dear daft boy—” She nodded at Leera. “—is seeing her by my side, tormenting you. Think of that. Squirrel and Freckles drifting about in the hell that is the nether. I will make them do my dishes again, just like before. Oh, what fun we shall have …”