Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2)

by Sever Bronny

  “That would be great, thank you very much, Mr. Goss,” Leera replied.

  “That is just wonderful. Good. I cannot believe I am laying eyes on you again …” He shook his head before stiffening. “All right already, let me hush up and fetch the cart.” Mr. Goss jogged off, quickly returning with a two-wheeled cart normally used for firewood, portions of it charred and one side missing. Leera, Augum, Haylee and Mr. Goss carefully placed Bridget inside, before wheeling her back to Mr. Goss’ hut.

  “Managed to save part of the place as you will see, though I have had to be careful, the protective enchantments the elders placed on the village no longer work. Anyone can wander in now.”

  He fell silent as they passed a dark area in the woods.

  “Mr. Goss, everything all right?” Augum asked.

  “Oh, um, yes, it is just that … Annie’s plot is just over there, as well as, uh … the other plots …” He nodded at the woods.

  Augum suddenly realized what he meant. There in the darkness among the lonely pines lay buried the victims of his father’s brutal attack, including Leera and Bridget’s parents.

  Leera’s light extinguished. She stopped, staring into that dense night.

  Augum almost placed a hand on her shoulder but relented at the last moment. “You okay?” he asked instead.

  Her voice was quiet. “Yeah, I’ll … I’ll see them tomorrow.”

  They continued, arriving at a round house below a mammoth pine. It was the least burned of the bunch. They followed Mr. Goss through a hole in the wall where there once was a door. The interior, lit by Haylee’s palm, featured burnt tables, chairs, and household sundries. The odor of charred wood mingled with the smell of winter.

  “I keep it this way to avoid suspicion, in case anyone shows up,” Mr. Goss said. “This way.” He wheeled the cart into the next room before gently setting it down. “There is a trap door here, though I do not know how we are going to get poor Bridget down there.”

  “We can levitate her down, Mr. Goss,” Augum said, hoping his arcane energies had renewed.

  “Is that so? Why, that is just marvelous, you all really must have been working very hard on your craft. It is just a shame I do not have an arcane bone in my body, not one. Neither did Annie, for that matter. Leland has been the, uh … the …” Mr. Goss removed his cracked spectacles and began cleaning them with a cloth.

  Leera reached out, voice soft. “Mr. Goss, could I repair those for you?”

  “You can repair these—? Why, that would indeed be splendid, they have been quite the thorn.” He handed them over with shaky hands. She placed them on the ground, splaying her palms over them. “Apreyo.” The cracked lens reformed. She gave them a thorough cleaning before handing them back.

  “Marvelous, simply marvelous!” Mr. Goss said, putting them on. “If I was only half as useful as you, perhaps things …” He gave a nervous chortle. “I see you have been working hard. That is just great, really great. Right, now do not let me hold you up any further.” He pushed aside a charred carpet and opened a hidden trap door. Beneath was a steep stone staircase. He scampered down the steps and there were moving sounds. “All right, ready—ready indeed!”

  Augum, Leera and Haylee took a bit of time preparing before casting Telekinesis. It was grueling work floating Bridget all the way down and onto a rustic kitchen table. The three young warlocks then collapsed, panting and holding their aching heads, while Mr. Goss draped a Dramask blanket over Bridget.

  He turned to them and swallowed. “I am nothing short of impressed. Your parents would be very proud. I am very proud.”

  At the mention of parents, Leera glanced over at Haylee who, wincing from the same pain in her head, dropped her eyes.

  “I have to warn you, uh, Leland is … he is not the same boy you once knew. I think out of all three of us, he took it the worst. It was a miracle he even survived.” Mr. Goss looked off into nothing.

  When Augum’s headache resolved to a dull thud, he took a good look around. Although the house above was round, the house underground was rectangular, with plank flooring. The walls were made of orange clay, partitioned to make rooms without doors.

  Leera deposited the rucksack against the wall in the kitchen area, where Bridget lay on a harvest table in the center, surrounded by four rustic chairs. There was also a wooden counter, a washing station, a small iron water pump, and shelves filled with pottery and thick ceramic plates. An assortment of hanging ladles, iron pots, and linen towels hung underneath, near a stone hearth. A box of dusty wooden toy animals sat in a corner.

  Mr. Goss began preparing bread at the counter. “It is hard living alone like this, cowering from the Legion, but we get by. An old friend comes now and again to give us a hand with supplies, so we manage just fine, yes we do.”

  A moan came from one of the partitioned rooms.

  “I think Leland is up. Would you like to see him?”

  “Yes!” Leera and Augum chorused immediately.

  “Good, I am sure he will be overjoyed to see you. Just go ahead, it is the second room on the right there.” He pointed before resuming his cutting. “Go ahead now, it is all right.”

  Augum, Leera and Haylee began to walk.

  “Not you!” Leera said through gritted teeth, glaring at Haylee with such contempt Augum could hardly believe it was the same Leera.

  A hurt look passed over Haylee’s face before she retreated to a spindled rocking chair by the hearth. Mr. Goss did not strike up conversation with her as Augum and Leera entered Leland’s room.

  Inside was a plain dresser and writing table, a beaten stool, and a cot, where Leland hid under woolen covers. A second box of wooden toy animals sat dusty in the corner, and a framed needlework hung above the bed depicting a child playing with a kitten.

  Leera sat down on the stool and tugged on the covers. “Little Lee? Hey there, it’s me—Leera—and Augum’s also here. You remember Augum, don’t you?”

  The covers tightened. Leera gestured for Augum to say something.

  “Oh, hey Leland, it’d be nice to see you there, but you’re hiding under the covers …” Leera gave him a perplexed look. He shrugged. Then an idea came to him. “Be right back,” he mouthed, and ran off to retrieve a piece of salted biscuit-beef from the rucksack. Haylee still sat rocking by the fire, holding herself, gazing into the flames, while Mr. Goss was finishing up with the bread.

  Augum returned to dangle the beef above the bed. “I have a small gift for you, Leland. It’s some delicious beef. Brought it all the way from Evergray Tower, the home of an evil witch.”

  The blanket slowly curled back, exposing a wispy scalp disfigured by fire. It took a lot of self-control for Augum not to react, though Leera’s hand shot to her mouth, eyes watering.

  “That’s it, Little Lee, come on, we know you want it …”

  Leland unfurled the blanket the rest of the way, revealing a face that was almost completely burnt, except for a portion of the right cheek, where one of his dimples remained. Linen bandages covered his eyes and arms.

  Augum placed the beef into his groping paw. He squeezed it past his disfigured mouth, making a kind of moaning noise Augum translated as being happy.

  “Bridget’s here too,” Augum said, “but she can’t see you because the wicked witch cast an evil spell on her. She’s paralyzed, and we’re on an adventure to cure her.”

  Leland made a series of moans Augum interpreted as, “Can I come along?”

  Leera suddenly scrambled out of the room, muffling her crying with her sleeves.

  Augum swallowed the lump in his throat. “Maybe, Leland, maybe …” He carefully tucked the covers around him. “Goodnight, Little Lee, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Leland moaned.

  Augum gave Leera a long hug in the hallway before slowly guiding her back to the kitchen.

  Mr. Goss fiddled with the cutting board, voice wavering. “He, uh, he lost his sight, the ability to speak, and uh, his sense of smell, but, uh, but the healer
saved his hearing, so that is good, right?”

  Augum returned Mr. Goss’ nervous smile with a vigorous nod of his head.

  “She said … she said she, uh, she had never seen someone his age burned so badly, and it, uh, it took all her powers to save him—but she managed it in the end, bless her, she managed it in the end …” Mr. Goss’s stood quiet a moment. What came next was barely a whisper. “Though sometimes I wish we had been taken along with Annie …”

  “Mr. Goss, please, don’t say that,” Augum said.

  Mr. Goss startled and forced a smile. “No, of course … I did not mean it.”

  Augum gave him a moment. “Was it an arcane healer by chance that saved Leland?”

  “Why, yes it was, and I will never forget her name—Miralda Jenkins.”

  Haylee stopped rocking. “That’s the family friend! I … I know her—”

  “Oh, that is quite splendid,” Mr. Goss mumbled, unconsciously touching the burnt portion of his scalp. “You know, I am expecting Mr. Bawdings to swing by sometime tomorrow, perhaps I can make an inquiry with him to send for her. If I am not mistaken, she does have the arcane knowledge to teleport, does she not?”

  “I think she does.” Haylee raised her knees back onto the rocker and cradled them. This once popular girl gave Augum the impression she was lost, and probably terrified for her family.

  He had an idea.

  “Mr. Goss, do you know where Haylee can find some suitable clothes? She’s no longer part of the Legion and, um, doesn’t need the necrophyte robe anymore.”

  For a moment, those words just hung in the air. Haylee gave Augum a surprised look, while Leera gave him a furious one. At last, Mr. Goss, who had been standing as if frozen in mid-thought, caught himself and stuttered to life.

  “Oh dear, where are my manners? Why … why yes of course, my dear boy, yes of course I do. Haylee, please have a gander in Annie’s closet. She was a small woman, some of her dresses might fit you. Just down the hall, the last room on your right.”

  Haylee quietly stood up, hands folded in front. Then she actually curtsied, albeit awkwardly. “Thank you, sir, that … that would be very welcome.” She hurried out of the room, head bowed.

  Leera, who had been standing beside Augum, suddenly pushed him away. “Ugh! I can’t … I can’t …ugh—!”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I just thought—”

  “Just shut up—” Then she looked away and took a long shaky breath. “I’m so sorry, I’m being … I’m just sorry, Aug. I know it’s not …”

  He was confused. “Not what?”

  She shook her head. “Never mind,” and plopped down on a chair by Bridget. “A curtsey even … you believe that, Bridge? That priss curtsied.”

  Mr. Goss, pretending not to have heard a word, began serving bread, butter, salt, and some hard cheese on plates decorated with neat floral patterns. “Augum, if you please …”

  “Thank you, Mr. Goss.”

  Mr. Goss paced over to the water pump and began working the handle. “How lucky I feel to have lived around warlocks. I find it simply amazing what they can do. For example, Bridget’s father put this here pump in place, bless his soul, using nothing but arcanery. Simply marvelous.” He glanced to Bridget’s still form, beaming sweetly. “And I am sure she will grow up to be a far more accomplished warlock then her father.” Then he caught himself and returned to pumping. “But you must forgive my ramblings. Please, tell me all about your journeys.”

  Leera and Augum recounted what they could, though it soon became apparent just how tired they were. Mr. Goss, evidently quite attentive to these things, promptly decided they should all go to sleep after the meal. He even devised a way to feed Bridget using a large reed straw. Leera was the one to administer the food, patiently helping her through an entire meal.

  When Haylee returned, she thanked Mr. Goss for the dress, a simple country linen affair, probably very unlike what she was accustomed to wearing, before taking a seat and eating as meekly as a mouse. Leera paid her no attention whatsoever. Augum said nothing either, not wanting to upset Leera, though when he accidentally made eye contact with Haylee, she did mouth “Thank you” before quickly returning to her food.

  A very long day ended quietly. Mr. Goss handed out blankets and pillows then made Bridget as comfortable as possible with two Dramask blankets. Augum and Leera slept near her to keep her company. Haylee, who kept her eyes averted from Leera’s hawkish glare, curled up quietly near the hearth. Before long, Mr. Goss blew out the hooded wall lanterns and bid them goodnight before padding away, leaving them to sleepy darkness.

  Leera and Haylee

  “Let me tell you about Mr. Goss’ place—” Leera said to Bridget over a late breakfast, taking turns with Augum in describing what she couldn’t see, even needling her a little for being lazy.

  Bridget smiled through her eyes, but Augum could tell she was putting on a brave front for her friends. He was so worried for her, and couldn’t imagine how she must be feeling.

  “Any news about the Legion?” Augum asked Mr. Goss, who was flipping bacon in a frying pan.

  “Mr. Bawdings, a dear old friend who has helped with supplies, will visit again soon, and he’s sure to have news. But a few days ago I did do some scouting.” He flashed an adventurous look. “Rather scary thing to wander the woods alone, I have to say, but it had to be done. Nonetheless, I spotted a company of two hundred Black Guard soldiers heading east across the Tallows.”

  “Probably on their way to Tiberra …”

  “I saw something else too. Two large … things … walking alongside the soldiers.”

  Haylee poured the root juice into cups. “They could be wraiths, Mr. Goss, made by the Lord of the Legion.”

  “Wraiths, my dear?”

  “Yes, they’re … horrible. The necrophytes at the academy are to start learning how to make them at the 4th degree, even though it’s an 8th degree elemental spell. And everyone is forced to forget their primary element and study necromancy.”

  “How far along is the training?” Augum asked.

  “It’s only just begun. I don’t think there are any necrophytes beyond the 2nd degree—yet.”

  Augum and Leera exchanged looks. “Then it’s only a matter of time,” he said.

  Mr. Goss shook his head. “What an awful thing to have such an esteemed and ancient institution as the Academy of Arcane Arts corrupted by a necromancer.”

  “Necrophytes begin training on simple stuff at first,” Haylee continued, “like Feign Death and Spoil. Lord Sparkstone is very ambitious though. Necrophytes start training to raise a walker almost immediately, and it’s a 3rd degree elemental spell.”

  “Why would they do such a thing?” Mr. Goss asked.

  She glanced around at them all. “Lord Sparkstone is making an elite army of Dreadnought-equipped soldiers that fight alongside trained necromancers.”

  There was a quiet moment.

  “What degree does a necrophyte have to be to become a full-fledged necromancer?” Augum asked.

  “That depends on the aptitude and bravery of the necrophyte, but usually at least 5th degree.” Haylee stared past them. “It’s called the ‘Torment Trial’—an evil test administered by a powerful necromancer.”

  “My father …”

  “It will be your father, yes, since he is the only necromancer around. He’s also the one who does most of the training at the academy.”

  “You mean there are no other necromancers?”

  “None that I know of.”

  “Please, let us not speak of these dark things over breakfast,” Mr. Goss said, carrying the steaming pan to the table.

  “Of course—sorry, Mr. Goss,” Augum said, feeling a sting of shame. Mr. Goss’ wife was murdered by his father, and here he was carelessly reminding him of it.

  “Not at all, Augum, it is just that I would like to start the day with a good meal and happy thoughts.”

  They ate quietly, Mr. Goss givin
g forced cheery grins.

  After breakfast, Leera pushed her plate towards Haylee. “I’m going to pay my respects to my murdered parents now. You stay behind and help Mr. Goss clean up.”

  The old Haylee would have scoffed. Instead, she dropped her eyes and cleared Leera’s plate.

  Mr. Goss glanced between the two of them with a puzzled look on his face.

  Leera still glared at her. “Care to join me, Aug?”

  “Okay.” Despite the tension, it was the least he could do. His father murdered her parents. He was determined to help in any way he could. This whole thing with Haylee wasn’t going to be solved right now anyway. He snagged the Orb of Orion on the way out, figuring he might as well put it to use.

  It was a cold and foggy day in Sparrow’s Perch. The snow was knee-high, the winter silence broken occasionally by the lonely tweet of a winter bird.

  Leera gave him a look. “Why’d you bring that thing?”

  “You’ll see. Come help me find a good spot.”

  “Ah … clever.”

  They partially buried the globe in a hidden spot where it could look out over the entire village. He then used the pearl Erika once disguised in an earring to lock the orb into place.

  “Now if only the fog would clear,” he said.

  Leera nodded absently, her eyes unfocused in the direction of where her parents lay.

  “Let’s visit them,” he said quietly.

  They padded to the burial ground. He noticed Mr. Goss had carved everyone’s names into the wooden markers. It must have taken ages to do. They stopped at the foot of Annie Goss’ grave. She must have been a sweet woman, and he silently apologized for what happened to her. He spotted the Sharpe family lined up nearby and fondly remembered the amiable and intelligent dark-skinned fellow that was Bridget and Leera’s good friend, Tyeon Sharpe—or Tye as they called him. He would have made a fine companion on their journey.

  Leera took a deep breath and paced on until she came to Bridget’s family—father, mother, two brothers, and her grandmother.

  Augum trailed, resting his hand on each marker, silently apologizing for the horrors of his father, not knowing what else to say or do.