Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2) (31 page)

BOOK: Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2)
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“But that is precisely the point, my dear. It is treasonous and a LIE!” The Blade of Sorrows’ voice suddenly roared across the room accented by a fist being slammed on the table. “You already
know
this knowledge though, do you not! You harbor the Lord of the Legion’s son and two others that will dare to spread these treasonous lies to the common folk!”

The room fell silent as the trio shared anxious looks. They had to find a way out of there, yet Augum simply couldn’t tear himself away from the globe.

“Oh, Unnameable gods, please, I’m innocent, I swear!” Erika began weeping. This time, Augum suspected the tears real.

Tridian’s voice became soft and soothing once again. “My young apprentice, I do believe now would be an adequate time to practice what you have been training.”

“Commander, please, I can’t, she’s my Auntie—”

“The path that you wish to tread, Apprentice, requires fortitude, discipline, and commitment.”

A silence passed.

“Yes, Commander,” Robin finally said in a resigned voice.

Erika sniffed. “I’m sorry, I’m sure I don’t understand—”

“My lady, if you will forgive our indulgence, we must put you to the question. I am sure, since you are perfectly innocent, you will have no objection.”

“I … I …”

Augum could almost see the look of struggle on Erika’s overly painted face.

“Surely my lady would not mind helping her young nephew train in the artful, though necessary skills, of the questioner by presenting herself as a willing subject—”

“My lord, I hardly think—”

The Blade of Sorrows slammed his fist on the table so suddenly everyone jumped, including Augum and the girls.

“That’s
Commander
! I will not correct you again.” Then Tridian switched to a pleasant tone again. “Now, my lady, if you will please sit …”

Erika cleared her throat ever so lightly. “Well, if it should help my beloved nephew …”

A chair creaked as she sat down. Augum imagined her sitting opposite Tridian with his soldiers standing guard behind her. The man would have it no other way, he thought, remembering the way the Blade of Sorrows had manipulated and questioned him. And Robin would be pacing in front, though this time, it would be his own Auntie he would have to question.

“Now I turn over the reins to my young apprentice. Please begin.” Someone slurped tea.

“Auntie—”

“—she is not your Aunt at the moment, Apprentice. Do not address her by name or title. If you do need to address her, use a demeaning title or name.”

“Right …”

Erika summoned her sweetest chortle. “My dear sir—forgive me, I mean Commander—is this really necessary?”

“I am afraid it is, my
dear
lady.”

“But I hardly think it appropriate for a little boy to—”

“Silence!” Robin shouted suddenly.

Erika’s ears jingled as Augum imagined her recoiling.

“Excellent, Apprentice. It is important to establish control, especially when the subject shows an
unwillingness
to cooperate.”

“I most certainly am willing to coop—”

“Quiet—” Robin said in a pleading voice. “Now Aun—I mean—woman, tell me what you know.”

“Oh, my sweet, beloved nephew, I’m at a complete loss here, though it’s quite pleasant to see you again I must say. Please give your father my regards when you next see him.”

“Yes, of course Aun—I mean woman—”

“Not specific enough, Apprentice! And you cannot let your subject manipulate you like some common boy. You are to be cold, firm and hard as iron, regardless of who is before you. Use tricks of the mind if you must. There are
ways
to stick to your principles. Think of wrongs committed by the subject against you, for example.”

“Well, my Aunt never did give me very large gifts for my birthday …”

“Why
Nephew
—” Erika said in a deeply wounded voice.

“SHUT UP WOMAN!” This time, Robin’s voice was filled with real rage. The room was completely silent, and Augum knew then that the commander had won. They needed to stop listening and concentrate on getting out of there. He almost felt sorry for Erika. Had to be quite humiliating to be questioned in such a manner by one’s own nephew, especially for a lady who considered herself in such … high esteem.

He unstuck his ear from the orb and beckoned the girls to join him in a huddle.

“What are you doing?” Leera whispered. “I want to see that evil witch squirm—”

“Look, I went through that, it’s only a matter of time until Erika spills the grain and tells them we’re here, maybe even moments. We have to get out of here, and the only thing I could think of is Centarro. It’s the only spell she hasn’t prepared for.”

The girls nodded.

“All right,” Leera said. “We can try the door. If that fails—” she looked to the hole in the wall. The suicide route.

“Let’s go then,” Bridget said.

They quietly made their way over and began preparing to cast Centarro, agreeing Bridget would perform the spell this time while Leera and Augum kept watch, reasoning two people suffering from the side effects of Centarro was far too risky.

“Centeratoraye xao xen,” Bridget said, kneeling before the door. She took a deep breath before her hands began exploring it, particularly the keyhole. She tried various things, from peering into it, picking it with a small iron shard they had ripped from the brazier, to even stuffing it with ice.

Nothing worked.

“I can’t …” she said at last, eyes already glazing over.

“Spell’s wearing off,” Leera said, taking her by the hand and leading her away from the orb. Bridget was soon gazing about the room like a dull child, a silly grin on her face. She pointed at the orb and was about to say something when Leera clamped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head firmly.

Meanwhile, conscious that time was quickly running out, Augum tried the Unconceal spell, hoping to find something hidden, some key or secret door or something else to pick the lock with—but there was nothing.

He caught a shaft of sunlight in the face, emanating from the barrel-sized hole in the wall they had repaired. He paced over to it and glanced outside. A sharp wind waved his hair about his forehead. The trees swayed below, shedding plumes of snow. Everything was covered by a thick fresh powdery snowfall, sparkling in the sun.

Well, this was their only hope now …

He glanced down. It was a straight drop, maybe a hundred feet, with nothing but jagged rocks below. His breath quickened. It looked like certain death to even attempt going out there.

When Centarro’s side effects dissipated, the girls appeared by his side.

Bridget looked pale. “You’re not seriously thinking …”

He stepped aside. “Just have a look for yourselves, see what you think.”

Bridget vigorously shook her head and retreated.

Leera stuck hers out immediately. “Here—hold on to me.” She leaned out further almost before they could catch her arm. She then looked up and down the outside of the tower, hair whipping about in the wind.

“Pull me in!” They did so. “All right, I have an idea. I think there might be a way to climb
up
.”

Bridget gave her a look as if she had completely lost her mind. “
What
? Why in all of Sithesia—”

“Keep your voice down,” Leera said, giving the orb a sidelong look.

Augum wondered how the interrogation was going. He hoped that, as with him, Tridian was drawing it out.

“Look, trust me on this,” she continued, “there’re these holes in the walls above this spot. We could use them as handholds. We climb to the ruins above then make our way down, sneaking by the guards. Come on, it’ll be easy, like climbing a tree.”

“—and rescue Mya of course,” Augum added.

“Sure,” Leera said quickly.

Bridget glanced to the hole and any remaining color drained from her face.

To Augum’s thinking though, they really didn’t have a choice. The way down was smooth stone, and no matter how clever they were under the influence of the Centarro spell, it was simply
not
possible to live through a fall from this height. They had to risk it, the alternative too grim to consider.

He inspected the outside of the tower and confirmed Leera’s theory. “Bridge, we can do this—”

Bridget took one quick look down from the lip and recoiled backwards. “No way, not doing it, no chance …” She kept shaking her head. “You two
know
I have a fear of heights …”

He rubbed his forehead. He would have suggested Bridget cast Centarro again but since she just cast it, it was too risky. If the spell wore off, or worse, failed midway up the climb … the thought was too horrible to finish.

Bridget took another step back, rubbing her arms, still shaking her head. “You two go ahead, I’ll stay here and wait.”

“No way, Bridge,” Leera said, giving her a firm hug. “You’re coming.” She glanced to Augum, face etched with worry. What do you think, Aug, can she use Centarro again so soon?”

“Already thought about it—way too risky. What if the spell wore off before she got to safety? I’m even worried about us using it. It could expire before we got to the top.”

“Wait, what if me and you climbed first
without
Centarro, while Bridget watched where we placed our hands and mimicked us?”

They turned to Bridget, who took a step back, endlessly shaking her head.

“Bridge, please, this is the only way.” Leera took her hands in her own. “It would work as long as you didn’t look down.”

“You can do it, Bridge,” Augum chimed in.

After a tense moment, Bridget forced a nod. He and Leera expelled a long breath.

“All right, you’ll have to watch very carefully, Bridge,” he said, tossing his blanket aside. He couldn’t afford to get tangled up in it on the ascent. “And whatever you do, don’t look down, okay? It’s just like climbing a tree—”

“But I’ve never climbed a tree before.”

Augum and Leera exchanged looks.

“Never mind that,” Leera said, dragging her to the edge. “It’ll be easy, trust me.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I can do this …” Bridget said, glimpsing the great white expanse beyond. A wind whipped her cinnamon hair across her face. She didn’t bother sweeping it aside, instead holding her hands close to herself and trying to step away from the edge, but Leera wouldn’t let her.

“Look, I’ll go first,” he said. “Stop looking down, would you? Only look up.”

Bridget nodded stiffly, still trying to squirm away from the edge. Leera took over talking to her, calmly explaining what it was she needed to do—they both need to do in fact—and that was to pay attention to where Augum was finding his handgrips.

As he swung outside the tower, dangling over a drop that would certainly kill him, the entirety of his insides felt as if they had climbed up into his throat. He clutched the wall like a spooked cat and took some time to examine the area above.

The good news was that he could see the lip of the top of the tower. The bad news was the wind and cold would be dangerous foes during the climb. Although he had climbed plenty of trees when he was younger, especially when running away from the Penderson brats, this was something wholly different. He had never climbed a wall like this before, especially not in such vicious conditions.

He reached for the first hole in the stone just above him, wincing from the stabbing in his chest, but discovered he had to scrape off the ice first. The next grip was a tiny outcrop of stone, also ice-encrusted, the one after a groove between two blocks, and so it went. It wasn’t long before he developed a rhythm, scraping off a purchase with numb fingers before gripping it. He tried as best he could to let the girls see what he was grasping onto, sometimes shouting an instruction or two about which stones and holes were safest. At one point, however, a strong gust made him lose his grip and he swung out like a loose sail. Luckily, his remaining hand held, though calming Bridget down was another story.

At long last, with frozen and bleeding fingers and nerves strung thin as winter grass, he pulled himself over an icy lip caked with snow. The climb was the most foolhardy thing he had ever attempted, and he had barely made it. He took a brief look around before crouching over the lip to help guide the next person, trying to ignore the horrible buzzing anxiety his entire body felt.

As it turned out, Leera made the call to send Bridget, which he thought was wise, as they could throw encouragement from above and below. If she had gone last, there was a good chance she would not have come at all.

This could actually work, he thought, until seeing Bridget swing out, frantically clawing at the wall like a petrified rabbit. He held his breath, yet somehow she just managed to hold on.

Her small frame, juxtaposed against a long fall ending in sharp rock, was enough to make him sweat, even in this frigid cold.

“Remember, Bridge, don’t look down!” Leera called from below.

“Focus on me and every handhold!” Augum called from above.

Slowly, very slowly, Bridget pawed at the next handhold, looking straight at Augum, tears rolling down her cheeks. He had never seen her so scared. “Come on, you can do it Bridge, that’s it, take your time …” he said, even though time was not exactly something they had an abundance of. He expected soldiers to storm up any moment, and then what would happen?

Yet what came next was infinitely worse. Bridget was halfway up, fingers trembling on a tentative grip, when a powerful gust swooped in. For the briefest moment, he locked eyes with her and they shared a look of surprise, before she was ripped off the tower.

Augum and Leera screamed.

The Seeing Orb

It was a moment Augum would never forget for as long as he lived—a life flashing before his eyes, the entire sequence ending in the death of one of his best friends. Yet at the end of that visual play, where he relived every moment they shared as friends, one particular scene stood out—the time they gathered near a fire in Castle Arinthian and placed their hands on Mrs. Stone’s blue book.

He remembered his words well in that sacred moment: “I solemnly swear, on the ghosts of my mother, Sir Westwood, and on those that my father has slain, that I will learn the arcane tongue. Their deaths will not have been in vain.”

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