Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2)

by Sever Bronny

“We have time,” Leera said. “Let’s just see what they do …”

  They waited together, watching like hawks, snacking on biscuit beef and nuts while passing the spyglass around. With all the activity in the camp, it was evident the Legion was gearing up for something. As the glass came to Bridget for the third time, she reacted almost as soon as she put it to her eye.

  “I don’t believe it—” She glanced to Augum quickly before checking again. “I think it’s Mya …”

  His heart skipped a beat. Bridget passed over the spyglass. He frantically swept the camp, finally spotting her lithe figure before Robin, who glared at her. She stood wringing her hands, head bowed, wearing a plain red servant dress with the Legion emblem in the center of her chest.

  He saw other girls wearing the same outfit, but paid them no heed. When he glimpsed Mya’s almond eyes, a surge of electricity passed through him.

  “We have to save her,” he whispered. No one replied, but he didn’t care. Crazy plans of rescue rolled through his head. As Mya disappeared to do Robin’s bidding, he felt a sense of loss, and only then did he give up the spyglass.

  “If I may, who is this Mya?” Mr. Goss asked, taking the glass from Augum.

  “She’s Prince Sydo’s old servant,” Leera said, her tone a little stiff. “Augum has a crush on her.”

  Augum reddened as Mr. Goss gave him a playful elbow. “She must be very pretty to get your attention, Augum.”

  “Oh, she’s very pretty all right,” Leera said. “Just too bad she’s five years his elder.”

  “Ah, but age does not stand in the way of love,” Mr. Goss went on, smiling, a faraway look in his eye. “My own mother was seven years my father’s elder and they were very happy together.”

  Leera pursed her lips while Augum thought of ways to change the subject.

  “I think that’s really cute,” Bridget said.

  Leera gave her a dirty look before expelling a resigned sigh. “So what are we going to do now? How can we possibly save Haylee and Mya and still perform the ritual? I mean, the watchtower is directly on top of Hangman’s Rock, right in the center of camp …”

  “It would be helpful if we could hear what they were saying,” Bridget said. She gave Augum a meaningful look.

  “The orb—” they chorused.

  He dug it out of the rucksack along with its accompanying pearl, and studied the area between the forest and the tents. The grass was high enough and the snow just low enough that if he crawled, as long as no one happened to stumble across him, he could reach the southwestern-most tent.

  “I’ll plant the orb at the edge of the camp,” he said.

  Leera grabbed his arm just as he was getting up. “What if they have detection enchantments of some kind?”

  “If there’s no one to fear, why bother putting enchantments in place? Anyway, even if they did, wouldn’t it be better to find out now?”

  “Augum is right,” Mr. Goss said. “They are not expecting anyone to sneak in, and it would be immensely helpful to overhear them.”

  Leera loosened her grip on him. “Just be careful.”

  Augum nodded, handing Bridget the pearl. “Here, warn me if someone’s coming, I’ll keep a close ear to the orb.” He then crawled forward over a snow bank bordering the spruce, and scuttled into the Tallows.

  His nerves jingled crawling up on the camp like that. Should a patrol stumble across him, should there be any protective enchantments, should the man in the watchtower stare too long in his direction—

  “Stop—!” a tinny voice whispered from within the orb of Orion.

  He froze just as boots approached. Two voices bantered back and forth.

  “Imagine the celebration—”

  “Ale for all.”

  “Ale and wenches.”

  “What do you think the servants have been brought here for?”

  They laughed as Augum felt his blood quicken. His resolve strengthened to iron. The boots soon faded.

  “You’re good to go,” Bridget said from within the orb.

  He could almost feel the spyglass on him. He was sure she would be able to follow the slight waving of the grass. After all, there was no wind, which in this case was unfortunate because even a slight breeze would have helped mask his movements.

  He pushed on, making it to the southwestern-most tent without raising an alarm. It seemed the Legion were too arrogant to cast any detecting enchantments after all. The tent was quiet so he crawled forward between it and the one over, right up to where the grass had been cut. He then very carefully planted the orb at the boundary. He judged that, by the lack of light and the way he sat in the grass, he wouldn’t be seen—not unless someone actually walked right up to him and looked straight down.

  “All right, lock it,” he whispered into the orb, gently obscuring it with some snow. Just then, a familiar voice rang out close by.

  “It is most fortunate indeed, Commander,” Canes said. “Now all we need is the boy.”

  “Let us not celebrate yet, Commander,” replied the Blade of Sorrows in a bored voice. “The trap has been set, but it still needs to be sprung.”

  “He knows where she is. He will succeed.”

  “You of all people should know never to underestimate the crone,” Tridian said. “Lord Sparkstone understands this well. That is why he has asked you and Corrigus to join him.”

  “Now—?” Canes asked, voice almost a whine. “But, how can I possibly help our lord? I lack arcane knowledge.”

  “Lord Sparkstone is quite aware of your limitations. However, you have spent much time with her of late in the castle, and he deems such intelligence … valuable. Though if he had asked my opinion, I would have told him you were as useless as a donkey without legs.”

  “Perhaps if you had managed the simple task of holding the boy, none of this would have been necessary.” Canes spat into the snow. “So where am I to go?”

  “Semadon.”

  “Semadon! But that’s—”

  “—yes, it is,” Commander Tridian said, voice edged with glee. “Corrigus will teleport himself, you, and forty of our best men in stages—if his arcanery lasts that long.”

  “It will last that long,” growled a voice.

  “Corrigus—”

  It was amusing yet worrying for Augum to hear a note of fear in the Blade of Sorrows’ voice.

  “Perhaps you should use some of your time training our recruits, rather than sneaking up on the officers.”

  “If Lord Sparkstone commanded me to spare time in training the weak I would do so without hesitation,” Corrigus replied. “As it stands, he deems my time too precious to waste, Tridian.”

  “Commander Tridian,” the Blade of Sorrows said slowly.

  Corrigus gave an amused grunt. “Lord Sparkstone summons us. We must depart with haste. I will be casting Group Teleport consecutively until all of us have departed. Be sure you do not dally, fallen knight.”

  “As you wish, Corrigus,” Canes replied.

  “Oh, it is not my wish, it is Lord Sparkstone’s wish, and I know my duty. Get your men ready and meet me by the rock.” Corrigus departed with a swish of his robe.

  “You know, I do think the old warlock needs the comforts of a wench,” Canes said with a half chuckle. When Tridian made no response, he sighed. “And you? What does our great lord have in store for you?”

  “I am to find the boy. I will be riding shortly. I think he may be trying to get into the crone’s old cave to acquire a Group Teleport scroll.”

  That would have been smart, Augum thought, realizing that although the cave had collapsed, it may have been possible to move the rocks using Telekinesis.

  “Right then. Good luck to you, Commander,” Canes said mockingly.

  “I look forward to hosting you in one of my iron rooms when you slip, Canes,” Tridian replied.

  Canes snorted, turned on his heel, and began shouting commands to his men.

  Augum was glad they despised each other. Now he just needed t
o find out where they were keeping Haylee and Mya …

  “Did you hear all that?” he whispered into the orb.

  “Yes,” came the tinny reply. “Come back now before they discover you.”

  “On my way.”

  He began the return crawl. Midway, the night lit up with a bright flash originating from the camp, instantly followed by an implosive rumble—the first batch of men had been teleported. When he reached the spruce, Leera and Bridget each gave him their blanket to warm up.

  “So let me get this straight,” Leera began, “Corrigus will take Canes and forty men. A whole bunch more will go south with Tridian to look for us—”

  “—and whoever’s left we’ll split further with Mr. Goss’ distraction fire,” Bridget said.

  “Anyone happen to know where Semadon is?” Augum asked.

  Bridget withdrew Tridian’s sheepskin map and gave it a long scan. “It’s not even on here.”

  “It is in the Northern Peals,” Mr. Goss said absently, watching with the spyglass. Another bright flash of light lit up the sky, followed by a low concussive rumble. “There goes another batch.”

  “We need to find out which tent Mya and Haylee are in,” Augum said.

  Mr. Goss passed the spyglass to Bridget. “Once all the men are gone, including Commander Tridian’s attachment south, I shall run north and build a lamp oil fire. As we discussed, we will do two turns of the hourglass. I will start the fire at the end of the second hour. Hopefully it will clear most of the remaining men out of camp.”

  The trio nodded.

  The flashes kept up a steady pace with relatively short intervals between.

  Augum was amazed at Corrigus’ arcane stamina. Such a complex spell, yet he could cast it repeatedly. It worried him this powerful warlock planned to attack his great-grandmother alongside his father.

  “Shh, I think I hear Robin,” Bridget whispered, closing her eyes while clutching the pearl. They anxiously waited for her to hear out what he had to say. “That evil little … they’re keeping Haylee in chains in a tent on the opposite side of the tower. There’s to be a trial when Tridian gets back from the south. Robin was gloating that they’ll probably put her to death.”

  Augum glanced at Leera, who gave a tiny nod as if finally agreeing that they should indeed save Haylee.

  “Here, have a look.” Bridget passed the spyglass over to him. “The one with the guard outside it.”

  He found the tent in short order. It sat on the far side of camp, close to the middle and well lit by torches. Were there guards inside also? If not, maybe they could sneak in from the back, free Haylee, explain the spell, then somehow creep unseen to Hangman’s Rock, where they would have to quickly look for the triangular witch’s mark and perform the ritual. That’s going to be the trickiest part.

  But how to rescue Mya at the same time?

  The more he thought about it the more impossible the plan seemed. There were just too many opportunities to get caught, too many risks …

  When the flashes finally ceased, activity began around the horses.

  “Commander Tridian’s force is departing,” Mr. Goss whispered, glancing at the trio with a grave look. “Are you three ready for this?”

  They each gave firm nods.

  Mr. Goss retrieved his hourglass, Bridget its bronze twin. They turned them over at the same time. To Augum, it was somewhat ceremonial—there was no turning back now.

  “All right, you have two hours. I leave you with full confidence in your abilities. Please give Mrs. Stone my best regards and pass on my wish that we meet again.”

  Augum hardly knew what to say. His throat went dry and there was a hollow feeling in his stomach. Mr. Goss was really leaving them, taking a huge risk on their behalf …

  “Mr. Goss, your spyglass—” Bridget said, voice breaking.

  “Keep it, you need it more than I do. Goodbye and … good luck.” With that, he crawled out from under the blue spruce and disappeared into the night.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Goss …” Bridget whispered.

  For a time the trio sat in silence, watching the particles of sand dribble down the neck of the hourglass. Augum thought of Leland and hoped Mr. Goss returned to him. He’d never forgive himself otherwise.

  “They’re departing,” Bridget reported.

  They began counting the horses together.

  “…eighteen … nineteen … twenty.”

  “Twenty men gone to look for us,” Augum said, spotting Commander Tridian among the departing group, but not Robin. “So including Corrigus and Canes, forty-two had gone to trap Nana, which leaves about forty still in camp. Now we wait and see how they react to Mr. Goss’ fire.”

  “Think he has enough time to build it?” Leera asked. “And what about all the snow—won’t it be hard to light a fire?

  “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I just don’t know …” He hoped Mr. Goss’ plan accounted for that.

  They continued their surveillance as the camp settled down. They even spotted Bridget and Leland’s healer, Ms. Miralda Jenkins, who appeared to be shooing soldiers to go to bed already.

  Augum used the spyglass to check how many stood on watch—a man in the watchtower, a man standing before the prison tent, and one idly patrolling the camp, sometimes stopping to chat with Ms. Jenkins. He wondered why she was still up and what she would do if she spotted them.

  “Almost time to turn,” Bridget whispered, rubbing her eyes as the last sand particles dropped into the bottom of the bronze hourglass. She turned it over, embedding it carefully back into the snow. The time to act quickly approached. Dawn would soon come, and when Mr. Goss lit the fire, they’d have to move fast.

  “All right, let’s go over everything one last time,” Leera said.

  They went over the ancient verses, the Slow Time scroll, and strategized on how they were going to sneak in there, something that depended on how many left the camp to investigate the fire.

  With about half of the hourglass left, Augum pressed the spyglass to his eye. Ms. Jenkins was still up, idly pacing the camp. Strangely, she stopped right where the Orb of Orion lay hidden.

  “Bridge, you have the pearl in your hand? I think Ms. Jenkins might be signaling something.”

  She fumbled around for it. “Got it,” and closed her eyes.

  Ms. Jenkins took a careful look around before making a show of dropping something by accident. When she bent down between the tents, disappearing from his view, Bridget began nodding, eyes still closed.

  “Yes, it’s us. Uh-huh. No, we’re here to save Mya and Haylee and use Hangman’s Rock to teleport out of there. We have to find this triangular mark on—” A pause. “Uh-huh. All right. That’s great … no, but in about half an hour Mr. Goss will light a fire to the north, anything you can do to—uh-huh … perfect, thank you, and what about—”

  Augum shifted back and forth between the Bridget and the spyglass. Suddenly he spotted movement. “Guard coming—!”

  “Ms. Jenkins, watch out—” was all Bridget had time to say.

  He watched as Ms. Jenkins revealed to the patrolling guard the thing she had dropped, then seeming to profess her clumsiness, gesticulating how hard it was to find anything in the snow. The guard chuckled along, adding his own story, and the two moved on.

  “All right, she got away with it,” Augum said, putting down the spyglass.

  “So what did she say?” Leera asked. “And how did she know about the orb?”

  Bridget covered the pearl so she would not be overheard on the other end, just like when they were able to overhear Erika speak to the Legion. “Get this—there were detecting enchantments around the camp, but guess who placed them there?”

  “Ms. Jenkins—” he and Leera chorused.

  “Exactly—didn’t take her long to figure out who crossed the arcane boundary.”

  “What’s she going to do?” Leera asked.

  “Well, she seemed to know about the witch’s mark on the Rock and promised to help when the
time came. Also, she said she’d try to send as many of the soldiers after the fire when it starts.”

  “What about Mya—?” Augum asked.

  “Don’t know. The guard wandered over before I could ask.”

  Augum checked the hourglass, judging about a third of an hour remained before Mr. Goss was supposed to start the fire. Excitement sharpened his awareness as he looked eastward to the horizon, spotting the first blush of dawn. A cold breeze sprang up, scratching at the branches of the blue spruce and shaking snow loose.

  “It’s time,” he said. “I’ll go retrieve the Orb. Let’s meet on the other side of camp, closest to Haylee’s tent. Don’t go in there without me.”

  “All right, we’ll take the rucksack,” Bridget said.

  He gave her a nod. “See you soon,” and began crawling over his previous trail. The wind rustled the hardy grass of the Tallows, helping obscure his movements all the way to the southwestern-most tent, where he stopped to listen.

  Someone snored inside. He edged closer and closer, stopping when the guard on patrol sauntered by. The snoring man coughed and the patrolling guard stopped briefly. Soon the rhythm of sleep resumed, as did the bored pacing of the guard. Deeming it safe once again, he slithered his way to the orb.

  “All right, unlock it,” he whispered, giving it a tug. It didn’t give. He repeated the request but it wouldn’t budge. He cursed himself for forgetting to tell the girls to unlock it before departure. They simply weren’t paying attention to the pearl at that moment, so there was nothing to do but wait. Alternately, he could leave the orb there. The thought was amusing—having the ability to permanently observe the Legion outpost at Hangman’s Rock, as absurd as it seemed, was an idea that could come in handy one day, if not here, then somewhere else maybe. After all, the orb was supposed to be indestructible.

  He peeked out from the grass. He was stuck between two tents, with another one in front obscuring his view. The sound of footsteps had him frantically tugging at the orb again—but it was still locked. Cursing, he slunk back into the grass.

  A shape appeared ahead. It hovered a few moments as if looking directly at him.

  “Lose something else, Ms. Jenkins?” called a laughing voice.