by Sever Bronny
“Have at it,” he said, gesturing at the old dark doors that were decorated with intricate carvings of weapons and armor. “You’ll find that they are indeed forever sealed.”
The tablet-carrying nobles descended upon the doors like feasting vultures, each casting the Reveal spell. Sure enough, the expressions of surprise Augum had expected came quickly after. The inquisitors plunged into murmured discussion. There were many gesticulations toward the doors and even more shaking of heads. Quills scratched at the parchments incessantly.
Augum crossed his arms and amusedly watched before voicing his thoughts. “The enchantments are not just bound to the doors, but surround the entire space within. They are around eighteen hundred years old and sank to permanence probably around sixteen hundred years ago, if what they teach at the academy about permanence is correct. You’ll note the masterful tendril depth, the attention to detail, and the deeply interwoven complexities that are hallmarks of Atrius Arinthian himself. It is, after all, his handiwork.”
The Lady High Inquisitor lowered her pointy chin and drew her brows together. “How can a 7th degree warlock possibly know what those tendrils look like … unless he knows a certain illegal spell, one that could land him in warlock prison?”
Augum did not hesitate, for he had expected the attack. “For the brief time I tuned with the Arinthian scion—before its destruction, that is—I was able to see arcanery as if I could cast Reveal.”
“A convenient explanation,” the Lady High Inquisitor said. She did not bother examining the doors herself. Instead, she placed her cold gaze on Augum. “Please open the doors to the armory.”
“That requires me to be the Keeper of the Keys, which in turn requires the Arinthian scion. When that scion was destroyed, the position of the Keeper of the Keys was destroyed with it. Thus, everything that was locked prior to that moment will stay forever locked. Unfortunately, that includes the armory and the vault within the armory.”
Katrina idly flicked off a stray fiber from the lynx-hide around her shoulders. “If that is true, you are in essence admitting you are utterly defenseless … and utterly useless to His Highness as a vassal.”
Augum glared. “We’re still 7th degree warlocks—”
“That very well may be, but three warlocks are a pittance against an army. And I am sure you are aware that, should the call to arms come, you are expected to show up on the field of battle with a skilled army.”
Augum tensed, for her criticism underscored his ineptness as a castellan. He had put most of his energy into building up the village. With the war over, he had seen training an army as a waste of precious resources. Unfortunately, with the Canterrans rattling their swords, he had been grievously wrong.
The Lady High Inquisitor brought her hands together. “And what other rooms have been sealed in this way?”
Augum hesitated only a moment. “None.”
“So, you are telling this esteemed committee that the only thing locked to time is the armory, and therefore the vault within as well? How convenient indeed.”
“It’s not convenient at all, for we’d very much like to have access to our armory and vault. But it’s just the way Atrius Arinthian set it up. Anytime a Keeper of the Keys died, all the items of the armory were returned, and it locked until a descendent came with the scion and became the new Keeper of the Keys. But since the scion was destroyed, there can never again be a Keeper of the Keys.”
“I see. What an imaginative tale. Forgive me, but I do not believe you. It is plain to me that you simply refuse to open the armory.”
“On what evidence?” Bridget asked.
“That is precisely why we are here—to gather evidence.”
Augum felt a jolt of sarcastic anger. “Well, there’s plenty of evidence showing we don’t possess the scions!” He counted on his fingers. “We’re not vastly more powerful than other warlocks, only more experienced due to the war. You don’t see the scions—” He made a wild wave around his head. “—buzzing around our heads like bees. Not a single soul has laid eyes on them since we vanquished the Lord of the Legion. And don’t you think we would have handed them over to the kingdom?”
Katrina wagged a finger. “Excuse me, but no one ever just … surrendered scions willingly. It simply did not happen. I’ve studied scions in detail. Apart from bequeathment, they’ve always been won through conquest. And you’d be surprised at the extraordinary lengths people went to in concealing them. Bloodlines stayed silent for generations to hide one. The history books are stained with blood shed in wars caused by the search for those artifacts.”
Leera scowled. “You don’t just hide the most powerful artifacts to have ever been forged—and all seven, at that—then pretend you don’t have them. You wield them. You practice with them. You protect yourself with them. Hate to break it to you, but they’re gone for good.”
Augum had to calm his breathing. “Look, the armory cannot be opened. We speak the truth. Until you can prove we have the scions—a sheer impossibility since we witnessed their destruction with our own eyes—your accusation will remain an unsubstantiated one.”
The Lady High Inquisitor hesitated, then smoothed her robe. “The evidence will be presented in a public hearing when the time comes.”
“No, it won’t,” Leera said, crossing her arms, “because the evidence doesn’t exist. Unless you fabricate it, that is.” The Lady High Inquisitor’s eyes flashed, but Leera charged on. “This whole thing’s a farce. You should be spending your time investigating who hired those assassins, not chasing crackpot theories.”
“I would advise you to mind your tongue, Lady Leera Jones,” The Lady High Inquisitor said, steel in her voice. “Inquisitors are sworn to serve the kingdom in good faith. Accusing one of fabricating evidence is a serious charge with serious consequences—”
“You know that’s not what I meant!”
The Lady High Inquisitor placed her attention back on Augum. “If you refuse to cooperate, we have the authority to compel you to tell the truth.”
“Those spells are notoriously unreliable,” Bridget said. “The answers are subject to influence based on the types of questions posed by the questioner.”
“Is this how the new king plans on treating the kingdom’s heroes?” Leera asked. “With phony accusations and threats? Last we checked, the king swore to uphold decent law, not become a new tyrant.”
Katrina raised a finger in warning. “You tread on mighty thin ice talking about my uncle that way, you cheap imitation of a noble. You’re in enough trouble as it is. Maybe you should think about shutting up.”
The silence that followed was deafening. There was no mistaking Katrina’s tone. Even the brown-robed inquisitors milling by the armory exchanged incredulous looks.
“You’re nothing more than a saddler’s daughter,” Katrina went on. “What do you know about investigations? You can barely pass your courses when you’re not sucking his face off—” She emphasized the point with a nod at Augum.
Leera’s mouth opened in shock.
Katrina then placed a dead gaze upon Bridget. “He’s a loser, you know. I could use him and throw him away at will. Nothing more than trash. Disposable. Trash.”
Bridget wore the same slack look as Leera.
“You came here to provoke us, didn’t you?” Augum said before either girl could respond.
Katrina glanced at him with a blank expression. Too blank, in fact. She was trying to hide her feelings. He had caught her out, and she did not like it.
“That’s the only reason you came, isn’t it?” Augum pressed. “It’s also why you messed with Brandon’s head and stole him from Bridget … to cause dissension. You no more love him than you love that lynx coat you’re wearing.” Augum took a single step closer to her, examining her vacant ash gray eyes. He kept his tone as even and dry as a desert. “There’s nothing back there, is there? Everything you are is a construct centered on ambition. You’re completely fake.”
Her lips parted a
nd her eyes went hard. She threw a furious gaze at the Black Eagle, as if about to order him to strike Augum down where he stood, only to stiffen her upper lip and straighten her shoulders. But instead of denying anything, she strode to the ancient armory doors. The stunned inquisitors parted to let her pass. She placed an open palm on the ancient wood.
“Yes, it’s in here, I am certain of it,” she whispered, delicately moving her hand across the intricate carvings of swords, axes, shields and armor.
And that’s when it hit Augum.
Why she was doing all of this.
Why she was actually dueling him.
Gods, it was so simple, so obvious, and she had given it away by using such a simple word: it. She didn’t care about the Von Edgeworth honor. She wanted the Von Edgeworth scion, the one originally given to Rebecca Von Edgeworth. That’s why she so adamantly refused to believe the scions had been destroyed, and it’s also why she wanted the castle. If there was even a chance that the scions were locked in there, she would attempt to open it!
As Augum fought with the rabid desire to call her out on that too, footsteps came from the entranceway. Everyone turned to see Jez striding in with The Grizzly, Cry, and Cry’s father, the Lord High Treasurer Bentley Slimwealth. Augum was surprised to see him, but realized his presence might just work in their favor.
“What is the meaning of this?” Cry’s father asked in a lazy drawl Augum would have mistaken for Cry’s had he not seen it come from the man’s own mouth.
“Lord High Treasurer. Lord High Commander.” Augum nodded to Cry. “Cry. Welcome, and thank you all for coming.” He flashed Jez a grateful look for somehow persuading them to come. She winked, though her gaze soured upon seeing her old nemesis.
Cry’s brows rose at the sight of Katrina. She gave him a thin, cunning smile as she sauntered over to stand by the Lady High Inquisitor.
The Grizzly towered over the other two, chest bulging. He eyed Augum with a curious look.
“This is an inquisition matter,” the Lady High Inquisitor snapped.
“But it’s still my castle,” Augum replied. “Nothing in the writ about not allowing visitors, is there? I have something to tell them.”
“Let’s hear the young man out, Melinda,” The Grizzly said, black eyes gleaming.
She flashed him a cold look.
Augum launched right into it. “A charge claiming we have the scions hidden in the armory has been leveled at us. The inquisition committee came to investigate that charge, but has seen with their own eyes that it is impossible to open the armory. Is that not so, Lady High Inquisitor?”
Her jaw strained before she answered. “That appears to be the case.”
Augum walked up to Cry. “In the name of truth, as an aspiring herald of the kingdom, knowing that people’s lives are well and truly at risk, I ask you, Cry, where did you get your information accusing us of possessing the scions?”
Cry tensed as he stared at Augum. He glanced at the girls and his shoulders drooped. “The source … the source was a well-worded and convincing letter.”
“From …?”
Cry winced. “It, uh … it was anonymous.”
Silence rang out.
“And did you verify the letter with other sources?” the Lady High Inquisitor asked.
Cry looked down at his feet.
“Son?” his father pressed.
Cry rubbed his eyes. “I … I screwed up, all right? Are you happy now? I allowed my resentment of the lot of you to get in the way of my judgment.”
“Let me get this straight,” Jez said. “Someone anonymously fed young Slimwealth here a steaming manure pile of a story, claiming the trio are in possession of the scions, and he bought it without confirming with multiple sources—something I am certain a true herald would never do—and published it because he despises the trio … and now assassins who go by the spooky name Whisper Blades have twice tried to kill Augum. That about sum it up?”
“Son, is that the way of it?”
Cry kept his gaze on the checkered floor.
The Lord High Treasurer put a hand over his eyes and dipped his head. “Oh, my boy …”
The Lady High Inquisitor narrowed her hawk eyes at Jez. “How do you know who the assassins are? That information is sensitive to an internal investigation—”
“We did our own investigation, Melinda,” Jez said with a sneer. “The arcaneologist got so scared off by the clues that he gave us our money back and told us not to mention his name in the same breath again. Speaks for itself, doesn’t it?”
“Watch your tone, Terse. We’re not in the academy anymore, and I significantly outrank you. You’re just a Warlock Protector, basically nothing more than a bodyguard.”
“Actually, I’m a mentor as well, not that you’d have the vaguest clue what it’s like to make a positive difference in someone’s life. All I see is that you haven’t grown tired of overstepping your authority, eh, Malignant Mel?”
“You dare call me that—”
“I do dare, you scheming little witch. I’ll never forget how you tattled your way into trying to get me expelled, all because the boys found you repulsive. Didn’t quite work out though, did it, planting that evidence? How’d it feel to almost get yourself expelled instead?”
“I could have you—”
“You could have me what?” Jez put her hands on her hips. “Want to repeat history and plant evidence one more time? Want to lose your precious job? And what degree are you again?”
The Lady High Inquisitor’s nostrils flared, but she did not reply, telling Augum that Jez’s seventeen degrees outmatched hers.
A silence passed, during which the tension settled back down to a slow boil.
“You might be asking yourselves why someone wanted Cry to question whether we have the scions,” Augum said. “This is where it gets interesting.” And rather unfortunate for him and the girls.
He strode over to the sealed armory doors. The inquisitors warily moved aside. The Black Eagle tensed as if expecting him to open a door, grab the scions, and annihilate them all.
Augum placed a hand on one of the doors much like Katrina had. “What if I were to tell you that the only thing stopping a powerful kingdom from conquering a weaker one is the fear that the weaker kingdom has a great equalizer … in the form of seven powerful artifacts?”
“Preposterous,” the Lady High Inquisitor said.
The Grizzly, stroking his gray beard, asked, “But is it, though? We are the weakest we have ever been as a kingdom. The Canterrans want revenge for a multitude of historical grievances, the most recent example being the Lord of the Legion razing their villages along the border and slaughtering their people. He also happened to be—” He nodded at Augum.
“My father,” Augum finished for him. Another dot connected. He turned and gave one of the old doors a knock. “Perhaps they don’t believe we killed the Lord of the Legion on our own, but that we somehow stole the scions and vanquished him with them. If they believe that, then they also believe we could defend the kingdom from an invasion. After all, if we vanquished the mighty Lord of the Legion …” He gave them all a pointed look before strolling back to Leera’s side to deliver his conclusion.
“Lord High Commander, you taught me in Military Strategy that a cunning foe will flush out any hidden strengths with whatever means necessary … including subterfuge. I purport that the anonymous letter came from Canterra as a means to flush out the scions.” He lowered his chin to make his final point. “But when it comes out that we don’t have the scions …”
“Then they will invade,” Bridget finished on his behalf.
A Hint
“That is complete nonsense,” Katrina said. “It’s wishful thinking. It’s evasion. It’s storytelling at its finest.” She jabbed a finger at Augum’s face. “He’s trying to get out of our duel. And he’s refusing to open the armory. The scions are definitely inside that vault. It’s that simple.”
The Grizzly took a patient breath.
“Lord High Treasurer. Lady High Inquisitor. Inquisitors. A word, if you please.”
The councilors and inquisitors stepped away to confer privately, leaving the trio and Jez to face Cry and a seething Katrina, who strode back to the armory doors, placed a hand on one, and closed her eyes as if communing with the Von Edgeworth scion.
Cry dragged a hand through his unruly hair. “It was clever how they fooled me,” he said, each word a struggle as if they pained him. “I allowed my bias against you three to blind me from verifying the claims. And whoever sent me that letter knew of my bias.” He sighed. “I’ll turn over the letter to the investigative committee. I … I failed in my duty as a herald. It seems I have much to learn.”
The trio said nothing. The point need not be compounded.
Cry met Augum’s eyes. “You do realize that if they believe you have the scions, they could invade to capture them. More than one war started that way … and those were over a single scion. We’re talking about all seven here.”
“So what you’re saying is we could be damned either way,” Augum replied.
Cry nodded. “They’ll find out eventually, if they haven’t already.”
“And then they’ll invade,” Leera muttered. “The kingdom needs to take action before the Canterrans do.”
“The kingdom can hardly stave off bandits, let alone armies,” Jez said. “And for all their talk about The Path, the Canterrans have way more warlocks than we do. We’re weak as kittens after the war. We can’t react. We might have to pretend we may still have the scions.”
Bridget and Leera exchanged alarmed looks before glancing at Augum. Ah, it seemed they realized what that meant. No advertising the Trainers, no raising money. If they did this, they would have to play it coy, placing themselves in great danger, for only the most ruthless warlocks coveted scions. And in the meantime, they’d likely lose the castle to mounting debt.
“This changes nothing,” Katrina said from the armory doors and turned around.
“What are you talking about? It changes everything!” Leera countered. “Your duel with Augum is a distraction that will weaken the kingdom! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in cahoots with the Canterrans!”