by Sever Bronny
He raised a hand to these people who had come so far with him, to these beautiful, fragile people, and mouthed, “Farewell.” They raised solemn hands in return and he stepped through the portal.
Ley
On the other side, Augum was dumped onto hot orange sand. The portal that connected them to Sithesia closed behind him with a whoosh. He shot to his feet, ready for a fight, only to see that the Canterrans had not attacked at all, but stood turning in place as a group, hands shading their eyes as they looked about.
Augum joined his friends, standing nearby with the same expressions of incredulity, and scanned the desert that stretched out in all directions to the horizon. Yet it wasn’t the desert that caught his attention, but rather the sky, for it was unexpectedly stuffed with countless stars glittering in pitch-black heavens—and yet there was a sun! And that sun was so strong he immediately began to sweat, for it was directly overhead. And it was smaller and brighter than he remembered since he’d last been to Ley, when the sky had been constantly overcast with racing clouds and the land scraped by fierce winds.
Now there was not even the slightest breath of wind to cool them, and everyone began removing their winter clothing and drawing their hoods to ward off the vicious heat. Bridget and Leera also took off their Dreadnought breastplates, and seeing their armor caused a pang in Augum’s chest.
Throughout, everyone kept gazing up at the star-filled sky with the strange white sun. The horizon itself was a bizarre sight, for the orange sand starkly clashed with the blackness of the sky like blood on snow.
“It’s like nighttime,” Jengo whispered, gazing skyward, “but in the middle of the day. Breathtaking. Simply breathtaking …”
Augum, for all his wonder, felt little else but the heavy queasiness of a heart drowning in melancholy. Bridget seemed just as troubled, her face distressed, brows crimped with anxiety. She too now carried a burden of guilt.
“I don’t feel that same malice I felt the last time we were here,” Leera noted, throwing her rucksack back over her shoulder.
“You were here before?” a Canterran asked. He was the youngest of the lot, probably no more than the trio’s age. He had a small muskrat face, blond eyebrows and a weak chin. A tempered distrust lingered behind his pale eyes, as if he’d be willing to listen, but only on his terms.
“A few years ago,” Leera replied. “No one believes us, of course. Back then the scions had a grip on Ley. Made the place hostile—or rather intruders hostile against each other. But the scions were destroyed and now it’s kind of … peaceful and quiet here. Used to be windy and cloudy like you wouldn’t believe. And the sun was yellower and never rose more than a few degrees above the horizon. Yet this—” She glanced around, head shaking in disbelief. “—this is something else entirely. What is this? Where are we? What are we to even do?”
“We are to plead our case before the Leyans,” the boy pressed. “Where are they?”
Leera shrugged. “No idea. Guess we have to find them.” She cupped her hands over her mouth and yelled, “Mrs. Stone! Mrs. Stone, are you there! I can’t wait to see her, I really can’t. Anna Atticus Stone, are you there—!”
“You don’t seriously reckon the Anna Atticus Stone is a Leyan, do you?” said another young man with the thickest Canterran country drawl Augum had ever heard. He was around twenty years of age, had a sun-weathered pig-like face, a meaty farm-muscled body, and rough hands.
“You’ll see,” Leera replied between shouts.
“Path shut her up,” Gavinius muttered.
“Don’t you talk to her that way,” Augum snapped back, adding, “murderer.”
“I was defending my future sister-in-law, Arcaner. You would do the same and you know it. How many Canterran lives have you taken, huh? How many? That’s what I thought, so you can shut that hypocritical Arcaner mouth.” He snapped his fingers at Leera. “Hey, blasphemous witch—which way do we go?”
“That’s a compliment coming from you,” Leera countered. “And as far as direction is concerned …” She pointed at the horizon. “You go that-a-way,” and she turned her back on them, grabbed Bridget’s and Augum’s elbows, and led them in the opposite direction. With derisive huffs aimed at the Canterrans, Haylee, Olaf and Jengo quickly joined them.
“They following us?” Leera asked as the group of six friends strode away.
Olaf glanced over his shoulder and sighed. “Yup.”
“What if we ’ported or something?” Leera asked. “I mean, later, when we put some distance between us.”
“Without points of reference it would be extremely difficult,” Bridget replied with a heavy voice. “And I suspect we are meant to stay near them for now.”
They walked on in silence, avoiding exposing any skin to the blasting sun. The twenty Canterrans following about fifty feet behind seemed to be faring better with the heat as their robes were white and they weren’t carrying any rucksacks. To help pass the time and train his telekinetic muscle, Augum floated his rucksack by his side.
“You checked your shield yet?” Leera asked after a while.
“Been avoiding it,” Augum replied. What if it was completely dark?
“Let’s get it over with.” She summoned her shield in support. “Go on and show off that pony. Come on, it’s not going to be that bad.”
“It’s not the dim, it’s what it signifies. I transgressed on the code already. I’m failing as an Arcaner.”
“Oh, hush, someone had to cast that cursed ritual.”
“Don’t dismiss Maxine’s sacrifice so quickly.”
Leera’s face scrunched with hurt.
“I’m sorry, that was harsh and unfair,” he said, and summoned his shield alongside hers for comparison, though refused to glance over at it.
“It’s only half-dimmed,” Leera replied. “That’s not too bad. What? It’s not too bad! You can get it back. You only have to perform a pilgrimage, just like it says in the codex.”
He finally glanced over his shield and indeed saw that the golden words and castle had dimmed about halfway, which meant his Arcaner powers were at half strength too. “That only applies to Sithesia,” he muttered, disappearing his shield.
Leera also disappeared hers. “That’s not true. I’m certain that you can perform a pilgrimage even here in Ley, and that’s because I swear I saw a note on it in the vault or the codex, I can’t remember which. I’ll look into it when we take a break to eat.” She sighed. “Though having your shield dimmed and losing the Dreadnought armor has to rank as one of the lousiest birthday gifts ever.”
“Could have been much worse,” Augum replied dully, thinking of Naoki and Maxine.
“Oh. Right. Of course. I meant physical things though.” She frowned and shook her head at herself, muttering under her breath, “… tactless … stupid …”
“Don’t call yourself stupid,” Augum said in the same dull tone.
She didn’t reply and brightened instead. “Wait a moment, since we haven’t slept yet and the sun is out, this is still yesterday—it isn’t your birthday yet here!” As the others scrunched their faces in thought, she elbowed Bridget. “Bridge? What do you think? Does that not make sense or does that not make sense? Tomorrow is his birthday, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”
Bridget glanced skyward at the horizon and sleepily rubbed her eyes. “I suppose so.”
Leera nodded in satisfaction, and so they continued traipsing on in moody silence, each confined to their thoughts.
The small white sun slowly moved across the sky like a flaming marble. They ascertained that they were walking eastward, toward the night, though what night would look like was anyone’s guess. And still there was not even the barest puff of cloud on any horizon, nor did any wind arise. But for their weary steps and labored breathing, there was no sound either, and the eye had little to feast upon except that miraculous black sky filled with stars they did not recognize.
At long last, bones weary and lips parched, the group of six friends stopped and
sat down to snack. The Canterrans, who had fallen behind, caught up a little before sitting down fifty feet away and looking on distrustfully. By then, their shadows were long and the air had begun cooling.
“The Canterrans didn’t bring provisions,” Bridget said as she fussed with her rucksack.
Jengo placed a hand over his eyes. “Nor water, it seems.”
“Fools,” Leera muttered, making a show of withdrawing a pouch of nuts. “Mmm,” she toned loudly at the Canterrans, snacking on a peanut and dangling the pouch before her. “Mmm!”
“Lee, really now,” Bridget said, withdrawing a skin of water, which she squeezed. After finding little in there, she traded a worried look with Augum.
“Best we conserve,” Haylee said, feeling her own waterskin.
The others agreed and drank sparingly.
Olaf began questioning the trio on Ley, with Jengo and Haylee quickly joining in. The trio told them everything they knew, how last time they had traveled here there had only been sixty-seven Leyans, and how there was an ancient abandoned city named Absalon deep underground.
Conversation eventually petered out and the group munched in silence, each lost to their own thoughts—until Bridget dumped her face in her hands and quietly wept, whispering, “It’s my fault the Canterrans found us …”
Olaf drew her into a hug and rubbed her back.
“They would have found out anyway,” Augum said. “The drawings—”
“No, they wouldn’t have, and you know it!” Bridget countered. “You heard what that foul emperor said—if it hadn’t been for me, they would have never found us in time!” She smashed a fist into her chest. “If it hadn’t been for me! And for what, huh? So that I could put those stupid men in their place? For that?” She looked at each of them in turn. “What is my stupid pride going to cost us, huh? Huh?”
They avoided her gaze.
“Maybe Mrs. Stone will perform a memorial ceremony for us,” Leera muttered. “Like she used to do.”
“I wouldn’t deserve it,” Bridget snapped, sniffing and withdrawing from Olaf. “My hubris is what cost Maxine her life—”
“Now that’s plainly not true,” Olaf interrupted as the others nodded in agreement. “And you know it. Maxine would have had to sacrifice herself regardless, and an enemy would still have had to die.”
“Maybe so, but how many others are going to die now because the Canterrans will be able to summon dragons too?” Bridget stabbed a finger into her own chest. “Because of me.”
Leera held up two open hands. “Whoa, whoa, Bridge, none of that may come to pass, and we’re going to do our best to prevent it.”
Olaf reached over to wipe Bridget’s tears but she slapped his hand away. “No! No, I don’t deserve your pity. I don’t deserve anything.” She flared her shield and looked at it with an angry scowl. “And look! It hasn’t even dimmed. It should have dimmed! And stop looking at me like that! Turn away! All of you. I only deserve your scorn.”
Augum opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He wanted to tell her that he understood what it was like to live with guilt, but he couldn’t think of a way to articulate that sentiment without her exploding at him. Instead he did as she asked and looked away. Olaf, who seemed the most hurt by her, reluctantly did the same, though he remained near, occasionally shooting her a fleeting glance. Bridget sat glowering at the sand as if it were a lifelong nemesis.
And then Leera pointed at Bridget behind her back and wrapped her arms in a manner that suggested they give Bridget a group hug. They grinned at each other and nodded, and Leera enveloped Bridget first from behind.
Bridget began squealing in protest immediately. “Hey, what are you—” only for Olaf to jump in, and then Haylee, Jengo and Augum, until Bridget stopped resisting and broke down crying in their embrace.
“We love you, Bridgey,” Leera said. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Yeah, you did your best,” Haylee said. “And you stood up for all women.”
“They would have found us regardless,” Jengo chimed in.
“It’s not like you intended for them to find out,” Olaf added. “I mean—you know what I mean.”
“Can’t put all of Sithesia on your shoulders,” Augum said. “I tried and it’s impossible.”
She cry-snorted and they slowly let go, patting her back and shoulders.
The gesture seemed to help a little, for Bridget nodded reluctantly, wiping her face but continuing to stew in self-recrimination.
Meanwhile, Leera withdrew her notes on Spectral Teleport and resumed studying. Haylee struggled with some sort of ice element spell in an attempt to cool the air around them, until Olaf weighed in and the pair worked together to cool the nearby area a comfortable amount. Augum and Jengo kept an eye on the horizon, hoping to see Mrs. Stone appear. They also watched the Canterrans, who mostly sat praying or throwing envious or hateful looks their way whilst occasionally muttering about the Solians being blasphemous heathens, that and grumbling about their lack of provisions.
“Look at them boiling with envy,” Olaf said. He glanced over at Bridget before raising his voice at them. “Shouldn’t have given up your native elements in trade for necromancy, should you? I bet you a few of you were ice warlocks. Sucks now, don’t it?”
“Oh, hush, Ollie,” Bridget said. “Let’s not antagonize them.”
“Yes, m’lady,” and Olaf winked at Augum, who suspected his sole intent had been to rouse Bridget from her stupor. If so, he had succeeded, because she expelled a weary breath and began rooting through her rucksack, organizing it.
Haylee turned her attention to the note Cry had given her, quietly unfolding it. After reading it to herself, she sighed deeply and put it away. Augum felt badly for Cry, as it was becoming increasingly obvious that she did not feel the same way about him as he did about her.
After reading the last page of her notes, Leera said, “All right, I’ll start the review process later.” She stuffed the parchments back into her rucksack and took a small swig of water. “On to other things.” She stood, stretched, and turned to Olaf. “Mind throwing up an ice wall for me? I want to riffle through the vault without the enemy seeing. You two don’t mind if our fellow Arcaners can see the vault and stuff, do you?”
Augum shrugged. “I trust everyone here with my life. I can trust them with the vault too.”
“I don’t mind either,” Bridget said without looking up from organizing her rucksack, “but thank you for asking.”
Olaf groaned as he hauled himself to his feet. “I haven’t quite mastered Summon Minor Wall, but I can give it a go.” He was only 6th degree and the spell was 7th.
“Think you can curl it into a C-shape too?”
“Anything else you’d like, Your Highness? Extra cooling? A beverage, perhaps?”
“Now that’s my kind of sarcasm.”
Olaf threw her a lopsided grin, focused, and began the complicated hand motions, incanting, “Summano valla minimus girata barricada,” swooping the line of casting. A C-shaped wall of ice appeared nearby, with the opening facing the friends but out of the Canterrans’ sight.
Leera stepped inside, flared her shield, and whispered, “Summano vaultus Arcanus.” The vault of three bright shields with three dots around each crest immediately appeared. Augum could not help but feel a prickle of shame upon seeing that his central crest had dimmed to match his shield.
The Canterrans shot to their feet, necks craning.
“Just training, that’s all,” Haylee called over, though she, Olaf and Jengo, who had not seen the vault yet, kept stealing peeks.
Meanwhile, Leera opened her shield door, which was to the left of Augum’s, and began riffling through the documents on the three tiny shared shelves stuffed to bursting with parchments and books and flattened scrolls. “I swear I came across it somewhere in here,” she said. “Hayles, give me a hand, would you?”
“I hate that nickname,” Haylee muttered, and hobbled over with her bad
leg.
“Well, you know what?” Leera said as she inspected one parchment only to stuff it right back where it came from. “Until we come up with a better nickname for you, you’re just going to have to get used to it. Besides, Hayles is a nice nickname. Look at mine—Lee. Lee! It’s a boy’s name, yet do you hear me complaining?”
“Fair point.” Haylee began riffling through parchments. “Hayles … I guess it’s okay. Ugh, what a mess. I thought this would look way more, I don’t know—”
“—organized? Tell me about it.”
The girls sorted through the parchments while some of the more curious Canterrans crept in their direction.
Augum pretended to wipe his mouth while whispering, “Hurry up, you two, they’re coming.”
At last, Haylee held up a wrinkled parchment with tiny handwriting. “This what you’re looking for?” She read the title. “ ‘On Account of an Occasion that Forced us to Perform a Pilgrimage in Ley.’ ”
“That would be it,” and Leera snagged it from her. “Thanks.” Then she closed the vault door and whispered, “Vaultus null.” It disappeared with a quiet whoosh just as a Canterran, the meaty one with farm muscles Augum had mentally dubbed Pigface, wandered around to the opening in the ice wall.
“What’re yous all doin’ over ’ere?” he asked in that country drawl. As some of the other Canterrans trailed, his beady eyes danced from face to face. But those eyes held an intelligent malice in them too, telling Augum he was the kind of man who liked to ease his prey into thinking him dumb.
“Had to cool down,” Leera snapped as she plopped to the sand beside Augum, obscuring the parchment in her sleeve. “Come to cool down because you can’t do it on your own?”
Olaf scraped a hand across the air. “Summano null,” and the ice wall disappeared just as the youngest Canterran, drenched in sweat, stepped inside it to cool down, only to sigh in disappointment.