Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1)
Page 9
Augum’s cheeks colored. “Hi.”
Leera extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Augum. Bridget told me all about your adventure together. I simply have to come along next time. Maybe we can explore the ruins of Horren’s Keep, or even River’s End!” She gave Bridget a quick look. “And I don’t care if you think they’re haunted—”
Augum accepted Leera’s hand.
“Oh no no no—! That won’t do at all. Shake my hand firmly, like this—” She seemed to put in extra effort to squeeze his hand while Bridget snickered. “See? Otherwise it shows a weakness in character, at least that’s what Dad says.”
“I thought you’re not supposed to shake girls’ hands hard,” he said. “That’s what Sir Westwood said.”
She waved that idea aside. “We girls can take it.”
Bridget elbowed Leera. “In the city, a man of honor kisses the hand of his lady.”
The girls giggled while Augum felt his face glow so hot he thought it might melt the snow around him.
“Oh, and congratulations on passing that test,” Bridget said.
Augum smiled sheepishly. “Right, thanks—and thanks for your help; don’t think I could have done it alone.”
“Sure you could have.”
Leera raised a brow. “Bridget mentioned you might be attending school with us.”
“Yeah, um, I might be, I guess. Kind of depends on your elders though. Don’t know if they’ll let me study with you,” and he looked to Bridget for news on that front.
Bridget glanced back at the swarm around Mrs. Stone. “Oh, I imagine they’ll let you in now. There were doubts though. Some of the elders—and even a couple of the teachers—didn’t want to let you study with us, saying that lightning was too dangerous. They finally settled on seeing who your mentor was before making a decision, figuring if he was competent enough, they’d let you in.”
“They certainly got more than they bargained for,” Leera said, grinning. “We all did.” The girls beamed at him. He smiled back, trying to stop his stomach from leaping around like that.
Something squeaked nearby. They turned to find Leland doing a celebratory dance, singing, “They have to let him in now, they have to let him in! His mentor’s Anna Stone so they have … to … let … him … in! Hurrah!”
“Hello, Leland.” Augum was glad for the distraction. “How are you? Get into trouble for coming home a day late with Bridget and Robin?”
Leland’s cheeks dimpled as he smiled. “Mama and Papa were mad. They didn’t let me come get you.”
Bridget frowned. “I got in trouble … my parents were so angry. Said I was very lucky. Then my brothers joined in—the twerps—apparently their little sister can’t take care of herself.”
“I’m sorry. You helped me, got into trouble, and I didn’t even say thanks.”
Bridget snorted. “Forget it—it was heaps of fun.”
“And next time, I’m definitely coming,” Leera said, eyes widening at the prospect of adventure. “You have to promise, okay?”
Bridget pressed Leera’s nose. “Okay, I promise.”
“‘Okay, I promise,’” Robin mimicked in a whiny voice, emerging from behind a tree-home. Flanking him were a lanky boy with sunken eyes and a blue-eyed girl with blonde locks.
Leera’s eyes narrowed. “Bored, Robin?”
Robin feigned surprise. “Hey now, Leering Leera found her first friend! Oh, wait—that’s just Broken Bridget. She doesn’t count.”
His cohorts cackled.
“Still hanging out with the Leer, Bridgey-poo?” the blonde girl asked. She wore a pristine velvet blue cloak with embroidered silver snowflakes.
Bridget crossed her arms. “Yes, Haylee, and it’s far better company than you keep.”
“Yeah, because I hang out with six year olds.”
Leland kicked muddy snow in Haylee’s direction. “I’m nine and a half!”
“Hey, watch it, you little snot! Cloak’s worth more than your parent’s dung-filled hovel—”
“Probably more than all the gutterborn hovels put together,” the lanky kid said.
“Don’t you dare use that word,” Bridget said. “If you had any decency at all—”
She went on chastising while Augum had a vision of the Penderson brats surrounding him, taunting and name-calling. His hands balled into fists. “Why don’t you three choke on hog tails and get tangled in a fence!”
Both groups turned to him, mouths open.
That had been one of Dap’s favorite insults. Apparently, they had not heard anything like it before.
“Certainly creative,” Leera said out of the corner of her mouth.
Augum wanted to spit in the snow like Sir Westwood. Considering the company, he thought better of it.
Robin turned to Haylee. “Was that some kind of farm boy insult?”
The pair broke out laughing.
“What did that even mean?” the lanky kid added with a chuckle.
Augum took a step closer. “It means get lost.”
Robin’s eyes caught the firelight. “Why, just cause your mentor is Anna Stone?” He turned to Haylee. “Should have seen this kid cower before the Legion—” He made a frightened pose.
Haylee and the lanky kid cackled.
“No, because, because—” but Augum’s brain froze. He wanted to say something about his fist meeting Robin’s face, but the girls were looking at him and he did not want to come across as some baseborn brute like Dap.
Robin shook his head. “Listen to him stammer. Pathetic. You would have wet yourself if it wasn’t for tiny Leland saving your hide. And fat good it’ll do you having Anna Stone for a mentor, she’s older than dirt.”
“I wasn’t stammering—you’re just playing dumb, something that seems to come naturally to you—” Augum knew Robin’s strategy all too well, and he was not having any of it, especially in front of his new friends.
Robin made his hand yap along while grinning with his cohorts.
“Hmm,” Bridget said, looking skywards while placing a finger on her chin, “I seem to recall it was you that almost peed yourself in the tent with the claw, Robin. I also remember how you couldn’t even cast Shine, pretty much the easiest spell there is. So, in the end, I guess we could say Augum here saved your hide, isn’t that right?”
Robin stopped grinning. “You piece of gutterborn—”
Leera was quicker though, seizing a bristling Bridget and Augum each by the elbow and gracefully turning them away. “All right then,” she said over her shoulder, “thanks for that wonderful chat, Robin, Haylee, Dilbur … never cease to entertain. Think we’ll go and have some chicken now.”
Leland must have made some sort of rude gesture because Robin suddenly frothed with rage, asking the others if they saw, promising Leland would get his just-desserts later.
“Hey you little misfit, come here,” Leera called to Leland with a roguish smile. “Just ignore them. You too, Augum—don’t pay them any mind.”
Augum was not at all afraid of Robin and almost regretted not going nose-to-nose with him, but a stunt like that would surely have jeopardized getting into the school. He could just imagine Robin exaggerating to the officials how wild and crazy Augum was.
Robin, Dilbur and Haylee continued shouting taunts, but Augum only smiled to himself; this was the first time he felt he was in with a group. He listened to Leera agree with Bridget about how stupid Robin looked, how bad Dilbur smelled, and how spoiled Haylee was. Leland, meanwhile, skipped off to play with a friend his age, the dust-up already forgotten.
“… and if it wasn’t for Haylee’s grandpa being Chief Elder and buying her all those things,” Bridget said, “she’d probably have nothing to talk about.”
Leera nodded along smartly. “She’s about as shallow as a dry creek bed.”
They stopped at one of the food tables. Augum helped himself to a candy apple on a stick.
“You know,” Bridget said, waving a crispy chicken leg, “I think that Haylee migh
t be a little jealous we snagged you for our side, Augum.”
“Oh?”
Leera’s fingers travelled over the sweets. “She wishes. Anyway, Robin and Haylee act like royalty, they even have a nasty little clique that fawns over them.” She picked out some sugared ginger, licking her lips. “Robin is the favorite son in the Scarson family and Haylee’s grandpa is Chief Elder. Both families know King Ridian, and Haylee and Robin claim to be friends with Prince Sydo.”
“They were nobles back in Blackhaven,” Bridget said with a tedious look, “so they see most of us as lowborn trash.”
“Gutterborn is one of their favorite words,” Leera added.
Bridget frowned. “Don’t use that word.”
“You get called that too?” Augum asked. “You don’t even look like … well, whatever it is we’re supposed to look like.”
Leera smiled. “Exactly.” She turned to Bridget. “You know, I think he’ll fit right in.”
Augum’s palms tingled. That had to be one of the nicest things anyone had ever said about him.
Leera’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Bridget told me you’re an orphan.”
“Hope you don’t mind that I told her,” Bridget said quickly, “she’s my very best friend and completely trustworthy and loyal—”
“—and brave,” Leera added with a grin, “and smart, and beautiful, and—”
“Oh shush already,” Bridget said with a smile.
“Is everyone playing nice with the new boy?”
Augum turned to see a freckled woman with gray-streaked raven hair.
Leera rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mother …”
“Good. I hope you won’t get him into any trouble.” Leera’s mother extended a tray full of cups with a purplish mixture. “Now who would like to try my very special Naming Day concoction?”
Augum got a whiff of a most ripe odor, much like rotten meat mixed with rank onion.
“Please, Mum, we don’t want to try anymore stinkroot experiments.”
“That was only one time, Leera, this one is different, I promise.”
“Ugh …”
Augum felt bad for her just standing there. “I will try one, Mrs. Jones.”
“You’ll regret it,” Leera said through a cough.
Her mother’s arched brows crossed briefly at her daughter before she smiled encouragingly at Augum. They all watched as he took a sip.
Except for the time Garth Penderson shoved his face in cow dung, the concoction was the vilest thing Augum had ever tasted; he actually heard his stomach plead for pity before gurgling in surrender. It was hard not to grimace in revulsion.
“Very, uh, nice, Mrs. Jones … thank you for that.”
“See, I knew you’d like it! I wish Leera would take your example and try things her poor old mum labored over. One day, when her father and I are gone, she’ll realize just how much she misses her mother’s cooking.” She moved along to offer the mixture to the crowd. Many seemed to have forgotten something in their homes as soon as they spotted her coming.
Leera groaned while rubbing her eyes. “Augum, please, take my parents—they’re free.”
“Her mother’s an ale taster and a brewer,” Bridget said. “She’s really a very nice lady.”
Leera gave an unfortunate nod. “And Dad’s a saddler. Aren’t we a fun family …”
“Are they warlocks too?” Augum asked, wondering if Leera would take offense if he set the drink down somewhere. The smell was making him dizzy.
“Mum hit the ceiling at the 2nd degree and Dad at the 3rd.” Leera reached across and snatched his drink. “And you can stop pretending to like this. That’s right, I saw your face twitch.” She discarded the contents under the table, handing him back the cup. “There, now you’ll be loved for life when she sees you finished it.”
“Mrs. Jones will just give you another one,” said an approaching skinny boy with ebony skin. He had an oval face and wore a ruby-red cloak with fur-topped boots.
“Augum, meet Tyeon Sharpe,” Bridget said. “He’s with us.”
Tyeon extended his hand with a polite smile. “Call me Tye.”
“Augum.”
“Bridge, Lee—how’s it going?”
“We’re recruiting,” Bridget said.
Leera flashed a roguish grin. “Snagged one for our side.”
“Ah, the war continues—Gutterborns versus Snobs.”
“Tye, don’t use—”
“I know, Bridge, sorry.” He turned to Augum. “So the legendary Anna Atticus Stone is your mentor.”
Augum put the empty mug near Leera, who promptly hid it behind a bowl of carrot sticks. “Yes, at least until she loses patience with me.” He forced a smile, though truthfully he felt dumb; he had a lot of catching up to do.
“Are you kidding? If she was my mentor, I’d have taken the Lord of the Legion’s place by now—”
“Tyeon Sharpe—”
Leera rolled her eyes. “He was kidding, Bridge.”
“Correct, Leera, I was in fact kidding. Anyway, I can’t believe she’s alive even. It’s big news. This is great for everyone.”
“I’d love to be there when Lord Sparkstone finds out,” Leera said, reaching past Augum to snag a branch of grapes the size of plums. “Just to see the look on his stupid face.” Her eyes closed as she bit into a grape. “Mmm …” She dangled the branch before Augum, singing, “I know you want one …”
Augum plucked a fat grape. He bit into it and a spicy sweet and sour flavor exploded on his tongue. It immediately took away the nausea of that foul concoction.
“Wow …” he said.
Leera’s brows rose. “Wait, you’ve never tried Titan grapes? And I thought I was sheltered …”
Augum swallowed and reached for another. They really were outstandingly good. “I grew up in a small village.”
“You’re not the only one,” Tyeon said. “I was born in a hamlet in the Sierran deserts. About the only thing we had to do was chase sand snakes and beat each other up.”
“Sounds familiar,” Augum said, “except for the snakes part.” He imagined running up a yellow dune, feet sinking into hot sand. “At least you got to travel, I haven’t been anywhere yet. What brought your family this far north anyway?”
Tyeon gave up trying to swat the branch of grapes Leera kept dangling before his face and plucked one. “My family fled north during the Stormsand uprising when I was six.”
“You remember it?” Bridget asked. “The uprising, that is?”
“The only thing I remember is seeing rain for the first time. Wagon got stuck in mud, but I got to play. Mother called me filthy. Come to think of it, she still does.”
Leera scoffed. “There was a big war around you and that’s all that you remember?”
“Mostly. Why, was I supposed to remember everything I saw at six years of age?”
Leera gaped a moment. “Well, I do. I mean, I remember crawling the streets of Blackhaven, visiting the Black castle with Mum and Dad—”
But Augum’s attention snagged on a short woman with too much makeup, wearing a mustard cloak and saffron boots. She had been jumping up and down, saying “Yoo-hoo!” to Mrs. Stone, when she tripped over her own feet and fell face first into the muddy snow, nearly rolling into the fire. She hastily stood, swirled some of the mud onto her cheeks as if it was rouge, and resumed trying to capture Mrs. Stone’s attention.
Augum nodded at her. “Um, who’s that?”
Bridget snorted a laugh. “Oh, that’s Ms. Drumworm. She’s supposed to be one of our teachers.”
“She’s completely crazy,” Leera said. “As in, eats-leaves-because-she-thinks-they’re-good-for-aging kind of crazy. No idea how she got the job.”
“Friends with my grandma,” Bridget said, popping a honeyed almond in her mouth. “Nana thinks she’s adorable.”
“Both our grandmas are on the village council,” Tyeon said to Augum. “I think they hired Ms. Drumworm just to get more of those anti-aging
tips.”
Leera tossed the remaining branch of Titan grapes back into the bowl. “Ms. Drumworm and your nanas also share similar tastes—knitting, drinking—”
“—and gossiping,” the three of them chorused, chuckling.
Tyeon picked up a plate of goat cheese biscuits, offering everyone some. “So where are your folks, Augum?”
Augum caught a look of concern from Bridget as she took a sip of juice. He picked out a biscuit. “Actually I’m an orphan, but since I’ve never met my parents, I don’t think about them much.” He surprised himself with his candor, but had a good feeling about Tyeon. If Bridget trusted him, why shouldn’t he?
Tyeon dropped his eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“It’s okay, you couldn’t have known.”
“Being an orphan is nothing to be ashamed of,” Bridget said.
“Maybe he’s a forgotten war child,” Leera said. “You know, a survivor from the Narsinian War.”
Tyeon shook his head. “He can’t be, the war ended when Mrs. Stone vanquished Narsus in 3324—sixteen years ago. Forgive me, but you don’t look sixteen, Augum.”
Leera turned to scavenge for more sweets, muttering, “Bookworm …”
Augum helped himself to a honeyed almond. “Fourteen, actually.”
“Look at that, we’re all the same age.” Tyeon rubbed his forearm. “I should feed Warbeak soon.”
“That’s his hawk,” Leera said. “I have a kitten named Skibbles. Bridget’s family has like, fifty dogs—”
“—three,” Bridget corrected.
Leera acted as if she had not heard. “Do you have any pets, Augum?”
Augum thought of Meli dying underneath him, feeling the sting of the lash as it came down again and again and—
“Augum?”
“Huh? What? Oh. No, no pets.”
“Speaking of which, Bridget just got a puppy.” Leera turned to her. “Name him yet?”
“Blinky,” Bridget replied absently, curling a lock of hair around her finger.
“Copper for your thoughts?” Tyeon asked when she did not elaborate.
“I was just wondering how she did it … how Mrs. Stone defeated Narsus and escaped alive. Father said everyone thought he was unstoppable.”
“You should ask her, Augum,” Leera said, plucking a cherry from a cheesecake.