Arcane (The Arinthian Line Book 1)

by Sever Bronny

  Bridget shook her head disbelievingly before reading on.

  “‘Proclamation four: Let it be known that a previously presumed dead fugitive by the name of Anna Atticus Stone, former Headmistress of the Academy of Arcane Arts, has committed treason of the highest order. She has stolen a scion and kidnapped Lord Sparkstone’s very own son, Augum Stone. Lord Sparkstone’s gratitude for the capture of this vile witch, the return of his son, and the retrieval of the scion would be immeasurable.’” Bridget paused before numbly reading the last line. “‘A new era of pride and glory begins. Those that swear fealty to Lord Sparkstone shall reap the rewards. Those that will not are enemies to be butchered like pigs.’”

  A marked silence fell over the room.

  “All of Solia will be hunting us,” Leera said quietly.

  Augum rubbed his face. “This is insane. So my father’s plan is to get all seven scions and then give his loyal followers eternal life with them?”

  “Or so he claims,” Mrs. Stone said. “One thing we can be sure of—Lividius, by subjugating the Leyans, intends on succeeding where Occulus had failed. Whether he shares Leyan secrets with his subjects will remain to be seen.”

  “He’s too selfish for that,” Augum blurted.

  Mrs. Stone looked his way. “This I believe as well.”

  Bridget placed the parchment on the table. “So that’s how he’s gotten so many to follow him!”

  “Indeed, you can imagine how enchanted people are by the idea of eternal life. Already they erect statues in his honor. In the towns that survived burning, word is spreading like wildfire; ordinary folks are taking up the search for the seven scions, the so-called ‘Great Quest’.”

  Augum absently bit at his fingernails. “How many scions does he have now?”

  “He has one, but there is word he knows of the location of another.”

  “Does he know about this castle?”

  “He does, but not that we are in it. Nonetheless, we should certainly be on our guard.”

  They sat in silence a while, each contemplating their own thoughts.

  “On to other matters,” Mrs. Stone said. “In my absence I chanced upon a precious few still loyal to King Ridian’s crown. As per the dictates of conscience and duty, I offered them shelter here with us.”

  “When will they come?” Augum asked, unsure how he felt about this.

  “I expect them today. You are to show the highest courtesy to our new guests.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Stone,” they chorused.

  “Good.” She slapped her knees and straightened. “Now let us continue your training. Thus far, you have practiced Shine, the first spell in your element, as well as the standard spells Telekinesis and Repair. Today, we study the final standard spell required to complete the 1st degree—Unconceal. It allows the caster to find nearby hidden objects.”

  Leera caught Augum’s eye. He was sure both were thinking the same thing—using the spell to search for treasure.

  “Now can anyone tell me the arcane word for Unconceal?” Mrs. Stone glanced around at them all. “Am I to presume that you have not had the good sense to read up on the spell?”

  They stared into their laps, avoiding her gaze. Augum wanted to say they had been too busy practicing the repair spell and exploring the castle, but the truth was, it simply had not occurred to them to study ahead.

  “The lot of you could do with a dose of forethought. I can only hope that one day it will dawn on you just how important your training is. Time is precious. Accelerate your learning and strive to stall your youthful tendencies. I do not presume it easy, but I expect a greater measure of discipline.” She sighed. “Now, the word is—”

  “Un vun deo!” Leera blurted. When she noticed Bridget and Augum gawking at her, she quickly added, “Mum used to use the spell to find sweets I hid around the house.”

  Mrs. Stone’s brows rose slightly as she studied Leera. “That is correct, and your pronunciation is perfect.”

  Leera flushed as if having never been complimented before.

  “Unconceal is about detecting intent,” Mrs. Stone went on. “You cannot find something that has been accidentally misplaced or lost, nor something arcanely hidden—that you will only be able to do with the 11th degree spell Reveal.”

  “Are there any gestures involved, Mrs. Stone?” Bridget asked.

  “The gesture is simple but important. Hold your hand out with an open palm and fingers spread, like so.” She demonstrated, the trio awkwardly mimicking.

  “What you will be looking for is a very subtle emanation, or pull. As usual, concentration is the key, but you will also need to still your mind. You must quiet the chatter and pay attention to faint reverberations of the ether.”

  “‘Ether’—?” Augum said before he could stop himself.

  “How long does the spell last?” Leera quickly asked, diverting Mrs. Stone’s attention just as she was going to reproach him.

  “Thanks,” he mouthed to Leera. She winked.

  “That depends on your ability to concentrate,” Mrs. Stone replied.

  “So … not very long then,” Leera said under her breath.

  “Have any of you heard of the Mountain Monks of the North?”

  They shook their heads.

  “A ‘No, Mrs. Stone’ or ‘Yes, Mrs. Stone’ will suffice.”

  “No, Mrs. Stone,” they said tonelessly.

  “The monks say only a dead man expends all his energy climbing to the top of a mountain whilst saving none for the descent.” She let that thought simmer a bit before standing with a grunt. “Now then, let us learn the fundamentals of the Unconceal spell. I have hidden half a dozen eggs in this room and the hallway. Find them with Unconceal.”

  They practiced for two hours, but in that entire time, only one egg was found, and it did not really count since Augum had stepped on it by accident. Upon spotting the flattened egg, Mrs. Stone shook her head and mumbled something about what a dreadful waste it was, before making him clean it up.

  She even caught Augum and Leera trying to look for eggs when it was evident they were not using the spell at all. That brought a harsh reprimand and then a lecture about honesty, hard work and concentration.

  After those two difficult hours, Mrs. Stone departed, giving them the rest of the morning and early afternoon to finish finding the eggs. At the door, she turned, adding, “It is your lunch you search for, so unless you want to go hungry, I suggest you concentrate.”

  It did not have the desired effect. They did not do as well with this spell as with the others. Bridget kept second-guessing herself and Leera jumped at everything she saw, while Augum kept confusing the ether with drafts.

  It hardly helped that Augum’s thoughts clouded over with his father’s Great Quest and the coming visitors. By noon, to his great frustration, he still had not found a single egg. Bridget and Leera fared marginally better—each found one egg, though Leera confessed she might have found hers by accident.

  When he caught himself staring at an empty picture frame for who knew how long, Augum plopped down where he stood, which at that moment happened to be on the marble staircase.

  “Brain feels like mush …” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

  Leera slumped down beside him. “Mine too.” She fixed her gaze on the child-sized suit of armor standing guard outside the girls’ room. “Maybe we should get Fentwick to help.”

  Bridget leaned over the banister. “Uh, that would be cheating. Besides, he probably couldn’t anyway; it’s too complex a task.”

  Leera cast her eyes skywards. “I was only kidding …”

  “Maybe we can train him to hunt rabbit,” Augum muttered. His stomach croaked like an old frog, reminding him he had left his breakfast half-finished that morning.

  “You two give up too easily, we still have an hour or so before lunch. Come on, let’s keep going.” Bridget disappeared behind the railing.

  He sighed and stood up, thinking it pointless; the spell si
mply was not his strong suit. It required him to connect with his inner feelings, which was like trying to find a squirrel’s stash of nuts.

  Bridget’s voice floated from nearby. “Let’s try the hallway again.”

  Augum and Leera exchanged a weary look and gathered themselves. The two combed over the hallway like tired miners going over the same bit of earth, now and then mumbling the arcane word.

  Suddenly Bridget’s head popped out of one of the rooms. “I think I’ve got something—!”

  “But I thought Mrs. Stone said she hid the eggs in the hallway and the dining room,” Leera whined, blatantly using her hands to search around a hall table.

  Bridget scoffed and disappeared back inside. Augum shrugged and followed, deciding he might as well see what she was up to, especially since his attempts at the spell were leading him nowhere.

  The room was like others in the hall—simply decorated with two carved wooden chairs, a small bedstead, a hearth, two empty bookshelves, and a chest of drawers Bridget kneeled before.

  “I felt a pull; might be something hidden inside …”

  “Let’s take out the drawers then.” He helped her get five of the six drawers out, finding nothing. The last and lowest one refused to cooperate.

  Bridget strained with the handle. “It’s stuck—”

  “Let me try—” but he too had no luck.

  Bridget gave him a questioning look. “Telekinesis?”

  He nodded. They stood back and held their palms forward, concentrating. The drawer rattled but did not open.

  “Leera—give us a hand?” Augum called over his shoulder.

  She strode in wearing a scowl, probably disappointed she had not found another egg.

  “Telekinesis on the last drawer,” Bridget said, raising her palm. Leera nodded and joined in. With the three of them casting the spell, the drawer shook violently and then suddenly flew loose, smacking Augum square in the shin.

  “OW—!” He fell, grabbing his leg.

  “You all right, Aug?” Leera asked, giving him a hand while trying not to snicker.

  “Fine … thanks,” he said through his teeth, rubbing his leg. “Check inside the chest.”

  Bridget did just that, finding nothing.

  “Well that was fun.” Leera turned to leave.

  “Wait—there might be something underneath the chest. Give me a hand.”

  They helped Bridget push the chest from the wall. Again, they found nothing, neither behind nor underneath.

  “It was a good effort, Bridge,” he said. “Might as well try to find more eggs …”

  She sighed, staring at the chest as if being denied the answer to an ancient riddle. They began to leave the room, Bridget trailing reluctantly.

  “I don’t get it, I was sure I felt something there,” she said, still eyeing the empty chest of drawers.

  Augum turned at the doorway. “Let it go …”

  “Ugh—” She kicked the drawer that hit his foot, sending it tumbling end over end.

  “Look!” She kneeled and pried something off. “Stuck to the bottom of the drawer!”

  “What is it—?” Leera asked, craning her neck.

  Their eyes widened as Bridget held up an ornate dagger and sheath. The hilt was ebony, pommel bejeweled with onyx, blade decorated with woven designs. The sheath was made of leather, studded with cut hematite and black diamond.

  “It’s beautiful,” Bridget whispered, handling it like a priceless artifact.

  Leera gave an approving nod. “Beats finding an egg.”

  “Now that’s treasure,” Augum said. “Wonder how old it is.”

  Bridget passed it to him. “Should we show it to Mrs. Stone?”

  He felt its cool steel before passing it to Leera. “She might not let you keep it.”

  Leera unsheathed it and examined the blade like some old expert, even weighing it in her hand. “It’s super neat, might even be arcane.” Her eyes twinkled. “I agree—she won’t let you keep it if you show it to her.”

  “Except if I show it to her and she lets me keep it I’d be able to wear it openly—not to mention it’s the honest thing to do.”

  Leera gave the dagger back. “It’s your decision, Bridge, you know what I’d do—”

  “I’ll think on it. Back to the egg hunt?”

  They scoured the corridors for the next hour, though Bridget was the only one to find another egg, which she promptly gifted to Augum.

  “There—now we each have one.”

  “Thanks, Bridge.” He wanted to turn it down but his stomach would have openly revolted.

  Leera’s chin rose. “I would have given you one too, Aug—if I’d found another one that is.”

  His cheeks reddened. “I know.”

  Mrs. Stone appeared soon after holding a frying pan and a skin of water. When they each showed her an egg, she eyed their acquisitions with a placid face. Any triumphant expressions quickly vanished.

  She gestured at the fireplace. “Well, get on with it,” and began gathering the remainder of the eggs, which seemed hidden in plain sight.

  Augum and Leera wordlessly watched Bridget cook their precious finds on the hot pan.

  When Mrs. Stone finished, she set the extra eggs in the middle of the table so they could see what they would not be eating. Augum knew she was only trying to teach them a lesson, but it still felt harsh.

  Bridget doled out the fried eggs. “Aren’t you going to eat, Mrs. Stone?”

  She sat back, hands in her lap. “Sometimes there are unintended consequences for doing just enough.”

  Augum realized what she meant—she was not going to eat because they had not found enough eggs. He and the girls were about to offer a portion when Mrs. Stone forestalled them by holding up a veined hand. The trio dropped their eyes, finishing the eggs quickly and in silence. They tasted bitter with defeat.

  After lunch, Bridget gave Augum and Leera a meaningful look and cleared her throat. “Mrs. Stone, I … I found this in a chest of drawers today.” She placed the sheathed dagger on the table. Firelight glinted off the onyx pommel.

  Leera’s shoulders sagged at the sight of it.

  Mrs. Stone raised an eyebrow and picked it up. “Most interesting …”

  “Is it arcane—?”

  Mrs. Stone placed the dagger back on the table and suspended an open palm above. “I daresay it is.”

  Bridget leaned in close but did not touch it. “What does it do?”

  “I have not the faintest idea; you would need to consult an arcaneologist.”

  Bridget’s face fell. “Oh …”

  “What’s an arcaneologist—?” Augum asked, hoping it was not a stupid question.

  “Somebody who studies the arcane arts in detail and identifies arcane properties in objects,” Bridget replied glumly.

  Leera frowned. “They’re expensive to hire.”

  Mrs. Stone fixed her gaze on Bridget. “You wish to know if you can keep it.”

  Bridget put on a bracing expression. “Um … can we?”

  “You were wise to bring it to me. It may be cursed, or an instrument for necromantic work. However, if you accept the risks, you may keep it.”

  Augum and Leera’s mouths fell open; he thought for sure she would confiscate it immediately.

  Bridget reached for the dagger then hesitated. “But what if it is cursed?”

  “Then you will suffer the consequences, will you not?”

  Bridget glanced between Leera and Augum. Leera mouthed, “Keep it,” while he made a non-committed gesture, though he thought it would be neat to discover its powers together.

  Mrs. Stone leaned forward and watched Bridget over steepled fingers, dagger resting between them all.

  Bridget’s shoulders slumped. “I think I … I think I better give it to you for safe keeping, Mrs. Stone. Until we know what it does.”

  “A wise decision, young lady.” Mrs. Stone removed the dagger, hiding it in her robes. Bridget nodded, avoiding Leera’s exasperated e
xpression. Just then, a muffled banging sounded below.

  “My word, I do believe our guests have arrived.”

  Guests

  “I can’t believe you gave it up—” Leera whispered as the trio followed Mrs. Stone downstairs.

  “You’re not helping,” Bridget said through her teeth.

  Augum gave her a friendly elbow. “Don’t worry, Bridge, better safe than sorry, eh?” though part of him still wished she had kept the dagger.

  Bridget only grunted. The banging at the door came again, louder this time.

  “Yes yes—” Mrs. Stone said, opening the chunky foyer doors with a wave of her hand. The gesture simultaneously produced a globe of blue light that lit their way.

  Augum exchanged a quick look with Leera. Had they just witnessed an example of simulcasting?

  After entering the vestibule, Mrs. Stone made a rising motion with her hand. The latch rose on the newly repaired outer doors, one of which opened. A gust of biting wind sent a pile of snowdrift cascading into the hall.

  Three figures stood against the bright snowy landscape. The first was a tall armored man with gray hair, bushy eyebrows and steel-gray eyes. A shield hung on his back, longsword by his side. The second man was short, balding and fat, with an anxious look on his face. The third was a sullen-looking boy of about Augum’s age with neatly combed red hair. He wore a bearskin coat, reminding Augum a little of Leland.

  “Mrs. Stone—what a great honor and pleasure,” the armored man said with a deep bow, fog billowing from his breath. “I am so very glad you came to our aid in such a manner. Please, allow me to—”

  “Sir Eldric Gallows,” Mrs. Stone said with a somewhat weary voice. “Perhaps introductions ought to be made indoors, lest the boy freezes.”

  Sir Gallows looked like he was going to protest but entered instead, followed by the fat man and the boy in the bearskin, both panting. Once inside, they proceeded to brush the snow off themselves while Mrs. Stone arcanely closed the massive door with a subtle gesture. It clanged shut with a thud that reverberated through the castle.