by Sever Bronny
Gretchen continued quivering in place.
“I’m afraid the girl has been struck mute, Headmaster,” Leera said, placing protective hands around her and shoving her head into her chest. “There, there,” Leera said, awkwardly petting Gretchen’s scalp.
“Mmm—” Gretchen protested mutely.
“There, there, child, all will be well,” Leera repeated, tightening her hold as Gretchen squirmed. “Poor cousin Gertrude will sleep with the fishes. I mean … because she was a water warlock … from down yonder south.”
Augum wanted to smack a palm to his face as Leera inexplicably slipped into a commoner twang.
Byron glanced at Iguyin’s tear-stained cheeks, his wolfish brows furrowing. “And what about you?”
“Oh, he’s her boyfriend,” Leera quickly offered.
Byron recoiled at the thought.
“Yes, she’s, uh, my girlfriend,” Iguyin blubbered. “And poor cousin, uh, poor cousin—” He flashed Leera a pleading look.
“Gertrude,” Leera mouthed.
“—Gertrude!” Iguyin said. “She just … died. Like, fell over and cracked her skull and her brains fell out and stuff. Totally dead. On the spot dead. Like, dead, dead, dead.”
Leera emphasized the point by sticking a fist to her temple and exploding it open. “Pow, all over the floor. Real ugly mess.”
“Mmm—” Gretchen moaned while struggling in Leera’s grip, which tightened.
“So, uh, yeah, we’re real upset.” Iguyin bobbed his head. “Very upset.”
“Very, very upset,” Leera echoed, nodding along. That nod soon spread to everyone in their group, even Eric. Perhaps in another situation, Augum would have burst with laughter at the ridiculousness of seeing all their heads bobbing like chickens.
“And what are the rest of you doing in here?” Flagon asked, voice cool with suspicion.
“Arguing—” Eric now blurted.
“About what?”
“About who did a better job at the mock battle,” Augum managed to spit out, unsure how it had come to be that he was covering for Eric.
The two senior arcanists glanced at Gretchen, then Iguyin, and lastly at Eric, who was now standing at attention.
“You know what I think?” Flagon asked.
Augum swallowed, and he was sure he wasn’t the only one.
“I think you’ve been drinking.”
Leera snorted a laugh, only to suppress it with a hand. “Sir, no, we’ve definitely not been drinking.”
Flagon sniffed at the air. “I can’t tell. Cuthbert?”
Iron Byron sniffed deeply, only to flash Flagon a foul expression. It was obvious the only thing he smelled was Flagon’s gully-wagon stench.
Iron Byron returned his gaze to the group. “Very well,” he said in a resigned voice. “But Stone, I imagine you should be busy training for a certain duel, not cavorting about discussing pointless inanities, especially considering how you have let the kingdom down so greatly with your poor decisions.”
Augum hardly needed reminding. “Yes, Headmaster, I will be training shortly.”
“You realize you are dueling to the death, Stone,” Flagon said.
“I do, Arcanist Flagon. In fact, Eric and I were arguing over battle and duel strategies.”
“Well, I suggest you keep your voices down, then. Students are trying to study.”
“Yes, Arcanist Flagon,” the group said, albeit perhaps a touch too quickly.
Flagon played with the reading spectacles against his chest while eyeing them suspiciously. At last, he turned his back, muttering, “Let’s have that drink, Cuthbert. And my condolences, young lady.”
“Mmm—!”
Leera petted Gretchen’s scalp again. “Hush now, darling, everything will be all right.”
Iron Byron gave them all a final stern look before departing with Arcanist Flagon.
Bridget gently closed the door and placed her ear to it. After a tense silence, she gave the all-clear with a nod. The trio then hurried to Eric and Iguyin so they could talk in whispers, Leera practically dragging a gasping and wheezing Gretchen along, whom she had finally let go of.
“So the wedding was a farce?” Bridget pressed. “What was the purpose?”
“It was a trap, a lure. The family wants the castle and the estates and fortunes that go with it.” Despair and resignation had softened Eric’s normally cold and hard voice.
Augum snorted. “What fortune?”
Eric gave him a weary look. “Forgive me, Augum, but you are naive. The fortune will come in time from the land and rents … once properly managed, that is.” He raised a hand. “I am sorry. I am in no position to be rude. Please …”
“Did you hire the assassins?” Leera asked.
“Of course not! I’ve heard talk it was the Canterrans. That’s all I know. Father keeps me in the dark on certain matters now. He is … ashamed of me. He … he suspects something is off about me.”
“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?” Bridget pressed. “You’re the only living heir. You must conceive a son.”
Eric nodded. “Yes. I must conceive a son. But now you see how that is impossible, as I have no … attachment to women. I find the very idea …” He shivered. “I am sorry, Bridget, I never meant to put you in such a position. But if you can believe it, I felt like I had little choice. My cousin can be … rather ruthless.”
Iguyin placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. He was thin with refined features. He wore a golden chain around his neck, indicating his family was likely Solian nobility. “My family comes from Sierra. Not only am I still considered a foreigner—even though I was born here—but I am a wayward foreigner. And a warlock! And now that The Path is the official faith … let’s just say that when they speak of ‘undesirables,’ they’re not talking about weeds in a garden.” He hung his head as his voice quieted. “Nobody, nobody outside this room knows what I am. Not even my dear sister. If anybody found out …” He raised his head to look at them, lower lip trembling. “Please, my family is rich. I can give you gold—”
“Ugh, spare us,” Leera said with a groan. “We’re not savages. Mum always said to give everyone the same whack on the back of the head when they spit on your shoe, regardless of birth.”
Iguyin relaxed a little at that.
Eric expelled a long breath. “My father wishes to punish me for not wanting to marry yet. I think he … I think he might even suspect I am a wayward. He is quite astute, you see. Nothing escapes his notice. That is why I appear so cold and detached. I had to learn to be that way. I had to cultivate it so no one could see through to who I really am. The life I lead … is fraught with peril. If my father found out the truth, he would not hesitate to flay ‘the devil’s work’ out of me. Night and day whippings, if that’s what it took, all while saying it was for my own good. And he would believe it, as such information can bring down an entire house, as you can imagine. An entire royal house and lineage.” Then he caught himself and looked up at them. “What is it you want?” His voice was cold again. “You have spied on me, and you have caught me. So I ask again, what is it you want? Gold? Your titles back?”
“Nothing,” Augum said. “We do not blackmail.” He indicated at Gretchen. “I asked Gretchen to follow you because I thought you might be involved in the assassination plot. I was wrong.”
“I know how unfairly you have been treated. I have placed you in a terrible position by not stopping the marriage plot. That is on me. My family wants your castle for the estate value, but I know it is far more precious to you than money. It’s your ancestral burial ground. You swore to maintain it and keep it safe.”
“You know about that?” Augum asked.
“Sure, it was in the heralds a while back. Look, I feel responsible for what happened with Bridget, and I admire how you three stood up for one another. I wish … I wish I knew such openness. Allow me to make a pledge that will ease your anxiety. Will that be all right?”
“Uh, okay, I guess.�
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Eric placed his right hand over his heart. “I so do solemnly swear, upon the sanctity of my soul and with the threat of true eternal karmic damnation, that I will do everything in my power to keep the castle in your name. And if I fail … you may freely tell whoever you like that … that I am a wayward.”
“That’s not necessary,” Augum said. “Your secret is safe with us. I give you my word as an Arcaner squire.” He then summoned his shield. “ ‘Thou shall never break thy word.’ ”
Eric’s brows rose at the sight of the shield. “Semperis vorto honos. Unnameables help me, you are a true Arcaner squire!”
Bridget and Leera flared their shields.
“We all are,” Bridget said.
Eric glanced between their shields, unable to hide his impressed look. “You do realize the power of those shields. Arcaners are held in great esteem by the common folk.” His jaw worked in thought. “I cannot stop my cousin from dueling tomorrow, but you could use your shield as leverage … with the right words. Appeal to the crowd for clemency, use that famous charm of yours they write about in the Youth Herald.”
“That’s precisely the plan,” Augum said. “Don’t know about the charm part though.”
“But there will be a consequence,” Eric went on, crossing his arms and leaning back on the desk. “Declaring to become an Arcaner is one thing, following through without official approval from the academy and the king is quite another. You have all put a target on your backs. Every corrupt noble in all the seven kingdoms, once they hear of a possible revival of the ways of the Arcaner, will want you dead, as you represent goodness, valor, truth and everything that opposes corruption. And I need not tell you that all the kingdoms run on corruption.”
Augum hesitated, but then made an effort to vanquish his childhood superstitions … and extended his hand. “Then let us build a bridge of good faith between us, one that lays the groundwork for honesty. No subterfuge, no trickery. Let us work together to make the kingdom strong, well, and …” He glanced between the two boys. “Tolerant.”
Eric stared down at Augum’s hand before taking it. “Very well. But it will have to be in secret. If my cousin finds out, she will instantly know you found out about me and how much leverage that will give you over our family.”
Leera shifted from foot to foot. “Does Katrina intend on, you know …”
“Yes,” Eric replied, classic coldness returning. “She intends on killing Augum.” He stared into Augum’s eyes. “And be warned. If you kill her …”
“I know,” Augum said, sighing. “I know what will happen.”
“Then how will you get out of it?”
“We’re working on that.” He judged it best not to reveal they knew she was a Von Edgeworth.
“I understand.”
“What about her?” Iguyin asked, nodding at a shaking Gretchen.
Bridget placed her hands on Gretchen’s shoulders once more. “You cannot tell a soul what you saw here, Gretchen. If you do, people will die. Do you understand? Do you want that on your conscience?”
Gretchen sniffed. “No, Princess—I mean, Lady Burns. I don’t. Like, I’m scared though. I’m real scared. I’m not supposed to keep this kind of stuff to myself. It’s bad luck. Really bad luck. I could burn in hell forever.”
“Don’t fall prey to superstition, Gretchen. It’s not bad luck. It’s just being born different, that’s all. Just different colored skin tone or different colored eyes or different body sizes. Different, that’s all.”
“Yes, Lady Burns.”
“Bridget is fine.”
Gretchen smiled sheepishly. “Does this mean we could, like, be friends and stuff?”
Bridget smiled kindly. “Of course it does.”
Gretchen brightened and clapped her hands together.
“With Bridget,” Leera clarified. “You can be friends with Bridget. She would love your company. Like, all the time. You should follow her around and—”
Bridget flashed Leera a stern look. “Lee.”
Leera winked at Bridget before returning her attention to Gretchen. “And don’t forget that you need to be seen with your new boyfriend.”
Gretchen looked Iguyin from head to toe. “Eww, gross! He’s a wayward!”
“Then have a brief courtship and break up. Who cares! Just make a public show of it.”
“We’ll do it,” Iguyin said. “Whatever it takes.”
Bridget never let go of Gretchen’s shoulders. “Now I want your word you won’t tell a soul.”
Gretchen glanced between the lot of them. “All right, I swear on my mother I won’t tell anyone. Not a soul for as long as I live. Ooh, and now that we’re best friends, can I, like, call you Bridge like your close friends do?”
“Uh, sure, I guess,” Bridget replied, her smile faltering. “But we’re not—”
Gretchen suddenly lunged at her with a hug, squeezing her tight. “I’m so happy! I’ve never had a best friend before! Thank you, Bridge. Thank you, thank you, thank you! We’re going to do everything together. Everything.”
“Time permitting,” Bridget quickly threw in, prying herself away from Gretchen.
Gretchen never stopped beaming. “But yeah, like, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
Augum smiled at her. “And that is a far more important quest than the one I gave you. I hope you will not let us down.”
Her cheeks went scarlet as she curtsied. “Your Highne—I mean, Lord Stone.”
Eric nodded at the door. “You lot better go and prepare for tomorrow. It’s going to be a big day.”
“Right,” Augum said, nodding, the cold feeling of dread returning. “Right …”
Gretchen snatched Bridget’s hand. “Come, Bridge, my very best friend! I, like, have so much to tell you about!” And she led a sputtering Bridget out of the room, followed by a snickering Leera. Augum was the last one out and stopped to glance back from the door.
“Hey … that was a good mock battle.”
For the first time Augum had seen, Eric gave a genuine smile.
“Good luck tomorrow, Stone.”
Deviate
After Bridget shook Gretchen off by telling her she had urgent business to attend to and then scolding Leera for her shenanigans, the trio walked back through an empty hallway in the Student Wing, each lost in their own thoughts.
“Bridget—” a familiar voice called to them from behind.
They turned to see Brandon catching up to them.
“Hi,” he said, nervously smoothing his amber robe. The mischievous smile Augum missed from his friend briefly made an appearance before Brandon winced and scratched the back of his head. “Hi,” he said again.
“What do you want?” Leera snapped, folding her arms.
“I was, uh, hoping to talk to Bridget alone.”
“We’re busy,” Bridget said, eyes narrowed. “If you have something to say, say it now.”
“Right …” Brandon gave Augum a pleading look, but Augum folded his arms too, signaling to Brandon that he wouldn’t get any help unless he earned it. Augum knew what kind of apology Bridget expected, and he wouldn’t diminish it by lending Brandon a crutch of any kind.
“All right, all right,” Brandon said. He reached into a pocket and jerked out his bandana, making a show of tying it over his shaggy walnut hair. Then he opened his arms as he flashed a pandering smile. “Ta-da!”
Bridget also folded her arms as one straight brow rose.
“You three look like Attyla’s Gates,” Brandon said with a forced chortle. He wrung his hands awkwardly, but the trio did not break the silence, or smile at his jest, or unfold their arms.
“I’m an ass, all right?” he blurted. “A donkey’s ass. I done goofed. Bad. Katrina hoodwinked me. Talked—” His hand flapped at his ear. “—sweet seductions in my ear.”
“Oh, do go on,” Leera said in a flat tone.
Brandon looked around, but the corridor was still deserted. He leaned closer to Bridget. “Look, I was
vulnerable as, unlike you, she offered to be with me in the night—”
Bridget slapped him. It was not a particularly hard smack, just enough to render maximum insult and leave a red handprint on his cheek.
Brandon’s head remained turned away. “Fair enough. I deserved that.”
Bridget spoke through her teeth. “She promised to share your bed, so that’s why you chose to betray your friends? Betray me?”
Brandon looked at her. He opened his mouth, looking like a fish caught on a hook. Then his eyes, usually so playful and fun, narrowed. “Well, what did you expect! These two over here make out every chance they get, but you don’t even … you don’t even touch me in public! You’re ashamed of me! At least Katrina wanted me in that way!”
“Uh, we’ll leave you two be,” Leera said, snatching Augum’s hand.
“Don’t bother, we’re leaving,” Bridget snapped, turning her back on Brandon so angrily her robe twirled behind her. She marched ahead, with Augum and Leera on either side of her like bodyguards.
“Oh, so is Her Uppity Highness too high and mighty to accept an apology?” Brandon called after her.
Bridget halted in her tracks, fists balled at her sides. Augum and Leera exchanged a brief knowing look. Now he’d done it.
Bridget turned in place. After staring coldly, she marched back to him and thrust her face right up to his. For a moment, Augum thought she might fight him like some schoolyard brawler, which was an absurd thought. They were about the same height, so her eyes bored directly into his. Then she whispered something before marching back to Augum and Leera.
“You … you don’t mean that,” he called as the trio strode away. “How can you say that? We’re not done! We can’t be done! I … I need you! Bridge? Bridge—! Augum, talk some sense into her, would you? She’s being a complete cow.”
“Oh, come on,” Augum said, stopping and throwing up his hands while the girls kept walking for a bit. Augum took a step toward Brandon. “What happened to you? What happened to your dignity? Did our friendship mean nothing? And where do you get off calling Bridget a cow? Seriously? Seriously?”
“What happened to your loyalty, Your Highness? Making best friends with Fry Himself. Ignoring me. Always taking the spotlight. Didn’t even include me in your dalliance with becoming an Arcaner. You self-absorbed, pompous, uppity jackal. You arrogant, cheap traitor.”