Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2) (47 page)

His hopes surged. It had to be Leera!

“I see her,” he whispered to the others. “She’s sneaking around.”

There came a particularly daring moment when she darted across the center of the village while the soldiers searched the far side.

“Crazy girl,” Augum muttered, barely able to watch as she safely snuck through the gaping doorway. He shoved the pearl back in his pocket and raced up the steps, reaching the top just as a light knock sounded. He yanked at the rope that withdrew the carpet before opening the trap door.

Leera jumped inside, helping him quietly close it behind her, before slumping down on the steps, panting but wearing a giant grin. He sat beside her, wearing an equally big grin. For a moment, they forgot everything and hugged. He was so happy to see her he kissed her cheek.

Leera’s eyes magnified.

He reddened like freshly blown coals, in disbelief with what he had just done. “Sorry, I … it was an accident, I didn’t mean—uh, good to see you safe—”

He rushed down the steps, almost tripping on the way. Luckily, it appeared no one else had noticed what happened.

Leera, face as red as wine, descended the steps to sit at the table. She idly fixed Bridget’s braids while whispering something in her ear.

“Hey, uh, want to peek through the engraved pearl?” Augum asked as casually as possible.

She took it without a word and closed her eyes.

“May I inquire as to what that is?” Mr. Goss asked, nodding at the pearl.

Augum pulled up a chair by Bridget and briefly explained, noticing Haylee watching him. He felt his face grow hot again as he wondered if she had seen the kiss. Whatever, it didn’t matter because he was still mad at her. Truthfully though, as angry as he wanted to be with Haylee, he felt horrible for the things he had said to her.

Leera opened her eyes. “They’re leaving.”

“I strongly believe we should stay down here for a while,” Mr. Goss said, “in case the Legion returns.”

“So what do we do now?” Augum asked Leera. As long as he continued to act normal, then the kiss didn’t mean anything, right? Yet his insides were puddles of anxiety. What if she got the wrong impression? Worse, what if she thought him ugly? He had never experienced these kinds of buzzing feelings before, and tried to hide his wringing hands.

Leera shrugged as her eyes briefly met his. A light blush came to her cheeks. “Well, why don’t we study the Slam spell with Bridget?”

“Great idea,” he replied a little too quickly. He had to look away from Bridget’s funny stare. He cleared his throat a bit. “But, um … how?”

“Like always, silly—except we’ll just pretend Bridget doesn’t feel like saying anything. She can listen, though, and I have a feeling she wants to learn it as bad as we do, isn’t that right, Bridgey-poo?”

Bridget blinked heavily once.

“See? She said yes.”

“She hates it when you call her that.”

“Yeah, I know, but she can’t do anything about it. Wonder if she’s ticklish …”

“I could see her rising to kill you for that.”

Bridget’s eyes flitted over to him. There was a gleam there he could easily interpret. Smirking, he punched Leera in the shoulder.

“Hey, what was that for—?”

“That’s from Bridget for trying to take advantage.”

Leera snorted a laugh as he rifled through the rucksack, retrieving the magnifying loupe and parchment One Eye had given them. He tried to ignore Haylee, who sat herself down in the rocking chair.

He grabbed a chair by Leera, who helped unfurl the large parchment. Leland felt his way around the table and squeezed in beside her, moaning. Leera pinched his good cheek. “So you want to learn the Slam spell too, do you?”

Leland nodded.

“Fine, I guess we can let you sit in …” The way she said it was an obvious jab at Haylee.

Augum felt even worse and seriously contemplated apologizing to Haylee.

“You’re taking too long.” Leera stole the loupe from his hand with a roguish grin. “All right, let’s see here …”

Haylee kept stealing glances over at them before finally asking, “Do you mind if I learn it with you—?”

Leera replied without looking at her. “Yes, we definitely mind.”

Mr. Goss, who was cutting up vegetables for the evening’s supper, looked up. “Now that was not very nice, Leera. Why would you not let Haylee learn the spell with you?” He gave her a disappointed father look.

“But—fine then, sit there.” She stabbed a finger at a spot near Bridget’s feet.

Haylee quietly took her place, straightening her plain dress.

Leera glared at her. If looks could vanquish, Augum knew Haylee would have been dead many times over by now. He gave Leera a gentle nudge.

“Oh, right … let me start reading then.”

They began learning the Slam spell, bit by little bit, absorbing and discussing its many nuances, carefully explaining everything to Bridget as they went. Haylee wasn’t allowed to involve herself in any way of course, except to sit there and pick up what she could. Only once did she have a question. Augum, in order to not upset Leera, answered only after Mr. Goss turned around with a kind yet mildly reproachful look.

It was obvious it hurt Haylee’s feelings to be treated like that, yet she put on a brave face and did her best to appear dignified. Despite what she had done to Leera, Augum continued to feel terrible for what he said to her earlier, and tried to think of a way to apologize without offending Leera.

With the Legion lurking nearby, they dared not test the spell, remembering just how loud it could be, instead going through the motions and thoughts without actually casting. They made sure to give Bridget focus time to go through the concepts in her head, blinking once if she got a concept and twice if she did not. Needless to say, there was a lot of double-blinking going on, for the spell was particularly difficult to learn this way, especially without someone like Mrs. Stone mentoring. Without the parchment though, learning anything about Slam from the ordinary text book would have been impossible, underscoring just how important apprenticeship was.

They struggled in this manner, exhausting every word of the dense scroll, until Mr. Goss asked them to break for supper

Mr. Bawdings

Augum dutifully took a turn helping Bridget eat with the reed straw. His mind drifted to the Legion, wondering if the reason they passed through Sparrow’s Perch had anything to do with them. Had the Legion received word from the Blade of Sorrows somehow? It didn’t seem likely as Robin would’ve said they were heading to Antioc. If anything, that’s where they should be searching for them …

As Augum, Leera and Haylee helped Mr. Goss clear the table, there suddenly came a series of taps at the trap door. Everybody froze except Mr. Goss, who smiled broadly while wiping his hands with a cloth.

“Ah, that’s Mr. Bawdings’ secret knock!” He ascended the steps as Leera looked through the orb just in case, nodding her approval a moment later.

Mr. Goss yanked on the rope and opened the trap door. “Hedrick! How good to see you!”

“Why Albert, you’re looking as feisty as a squirrel over nuts,” the man wheezed as if out of breath. “Still alive in this little hole?”

“We manage, but I regret to report that you missed a hot supper.”

“Well, now I am disturbed.” Bawdings huffed his large frame down the steps, dressed in a merchant tunic and turned down boots, a sack over his shoulder. “But how about a touch of whiskey for a weary traveler?” A grimy hand slid through salt and pepper hair that matched his beard.

Mr. Goss closed the trap door and pulled the rope. “Ran out months ago. Would ale suffice?”

“Most certainly.” His head swiveled to Augum and the others. “Taking in stragglers?”

“These are friends of Leland.”

“Not all of us,” Leera muttered, casting an evil eye at Haylee, who squirmed in her seat.

Mr. Bawdings reached into his tunic, pulled out a large silver flask, and took a long pull, letting out a burp after. “Ah … nothing like expelling a wee bit o’ air, eh?”

Leera chuckled while Haylee stared with a look of revulsion.

Mr. Goss gestured to a chair. “How was the journey?”

Bawdings let the sack fall to the floor, stole a chair from the dining table as if he had not seen Bridget lying there, and plopped down by the hearth. “Barely avoided bandits upon departing Antioc, not to mention the Legion.”

Bawdings’ eyes fell upon Bridget at last. He sucked on the flask again, which was starting to sound empty, before scratching the shirt over his large belly. “Girl all right?”

“I am afraid she is not doing so well. She has a back injury and needs the services of an arcane healer.”

“Oh.” Bawdings placed his flask to his eye and squinted. “Most unfortunate,” he muttered, retrieving a second, dirtier flask from his pocket.

“Yes, well, I was really hoping you could help with the matter.”

Mr. Bawdings’ eyes shifted to Augum and Leera as he fumbled with the cap of his flask. “I don’t know, me even being here …”

Mr. Goss began slicing some bread, voice quiet. “For old friendship’s sake, is there nothing you could do? She lost her family here in the massacre, you know …”

Augum and Leera nodded along, trying to look as pitiful as possible.

Mr. Bawdings stood, turned his back, and ran his fingers through his hair. He expelled a mighty breath as if from a wheezing bellows. “I don’t rightly know you realize just what you’re asking me to do. All the healers now work for the Legion. I’d almost have to kidnap one from under their noses.” He stood up and gripped the stone mantel above the hearth, head hanging between his arms. “It’d be the end of me, I say, the end of me …”

Augum and Leera both made eye contact with Mr. Goss, imploring him to push. Leland abruptly pawed his way over to Mr. Bawdings, moaning while tugging on his tunic and vigorously pointing at Bridget lying paralyzed on the table.

Mr. Bawdings kneeled down before Leland. “Is that what you also want, little fellow? You want to see ol’ Bawdings roasting over a spit so the poor girl can have a healer?”

Leland made a few exaggerated nods.

Bawdings’ shoulders slumped. “Kids are going get me killed, I swear it. Well all right then, I’ll give it a go.”

Augum and Leera thanked him profusely.

“Yeah yeah, save it for my memorial.” He picked up the large bag and placed it on the counter. “The supplies you asked for, Albert, plus a little extra.”

Mr. Goss suddenly wrapped his thin arms around his friend.

“All right now, easy there, old chum.”

Mr. Goss let go and retrieved a bag of coins from his room. He placed it into Mr. Bawdings’ hand and enveloped it with both his own. “I wish I could afford to give you more.”

“Bah, don’t mention it. Just try not to get all mushy on me.”

“Mr. Bawdings, is there any news from Antioc?” Haylee asked while Leera stiffened.

Mr. Bawdings pocketed the money and took his seat by the hearth with a groan. “Blackhaven Herald’s about as useful as hog dung. Have to get your news by ear. Legion’s clamping down on the merchants. Food is scarcer by the day. Even heard them magic scrolls are now forbidden.”

“We call it arcanery, sir,” Leera said.

“Whatever, I don’t trust magicians enough to—” He suddenly glanced at them. “Don’t tell me you brats are magicians!”

Leera opened her palms. “We are, but—”

“Unnameables be good, I’m helping a bunch of witches, I am!”

“Sir—” Augum began, trying to form an argument in his head. The last thing he wanted was to offend Mr. Bawdings and have him renege on helping Bridget. “Please, we might be warlocks, but we’re fighting for the same cause.”

Mr. Bawdings took a swig, eyeing Augum like a watchman eyeing a thief. “Are we now, and what might that cause be?”

“The downfall of the Legion, of course—”

Mr. Bawdings let loose a boisterous laugh that bounced around the clay walls. “ ‘The downfall of the Legion’, the boy says. You mark my words, boy, nothing’s going to stop the Legion now, nothing. We’ll all be in shackles by spring. We’re just rabbits running loose, and you know what they are?” He leaned forward in his chair, his breath making Augum dizzy. “They’re wolves. A pack of hungry, vicious wolves. Why, did you even know that right now they’re demanding women produce sons for their future wars? Did you know that, boy? Of course you didn’t, because you seem to think there’s some kind of
magical
opposition to the Legion!”

Mr. Bawdings took another swig, eyes flashing. “Let me set you real straight now, son. There. Is. No. Op. O. Sition! There is no underground army, there is no one fighting the Legion, there is no nothing! And if you ask me, all this is happening because of magicians and their cursed witchery.” He spat into the hearth and leaned back in the chair. “Should’ve all been hanged back in the day, I says.”

This was news to Augum. He was sure there would be armies out there, secretly uniting to fight the Legion. The idea that no one was on their side was … lonely and depressing. He plopped down beside Bridget. She blinked twice. He just stared at her stupidly. She blinked twice again.

“Bridget disagrees,” Leera said.

Bawdings scoffed, taking yet another swig from his flask, which was also starting to sound empty. “The girl that can’t move or talk disagrees.” The chair creaked as he reeled in it, almost falling off. “A shrew’s bottom! I fear I’ve imbibed a bit much and now my tongue’s gone and run off. My apologies, Albert, but you know me …”

Mr. Goss nodded but placed a hand on Augum’s shoulder, whispering, “There is opposition—I am looking right at it.”

Augum spared a weak smile.

Bawdings’ speech began to run together a bit. “But don’t you worry, kids, I’ll try and find your friend a healer. In point of fact, I already have an idea where to find one. The Legion set up a temporary outpost near Hangman’s Rock as a kind of in-between supply station, complete with a healer. I know because I had to get around it without being seen. I’ll head over there tonight and see if I can bribe my way to seeing the healer, maybe slip her a note or something. Night’s best for such a thing as the ones most prone to take coin serve the graveyard shift.”